By the time we got home, Isabel had finished her work for the weekend. She had also started something for dinner, and put it in the slow-cooker where we could leave it for a few hours. She asked how our outing had been.
"It was fine," I told her. "We did like you suggested: visited the Courthouse and then drove up to the old ruins. We got some lunch on the way back."
"That's all?" she asked, smiling.
I said "Yes" at the exact same time that Marie said "No." Then Marie laughed as I got tongue-tied. She went on, "We spent some time kissing in the forest ... and other stuff like that. I think Hosea's embarrassed."
This time I could feel myself blush. Isabel smiled again. "And here I had to spend my day writing learning objectives for next year's undergraduates. Sounds like you had a lot more fun. Did you save any of that energy, or are you all worn out?"
I tried moving my mouth, but I still couldn't make words come out. Marie went on: "Hosea should have plenty of energy left, because he didn't finish. And I'm willing to join in anything that appeals to you two."
"Anything that appeals, huh? Well I think we've tried all the different ways to combine two people. I guess we could go for more of the same, or maybe there's a creative option I'm missing."
Suddenly I saw a practical application to studying set theory back in school. "Actually if you want to count all possible combinations, you have to include combinations with just one person." As I said it, I thought to myself, They're talking sex and you're talking math. How pathetic can you get?
Isabel asked, "What do you mean? Just one person doesn't sound like much fun."
"Well, you could pull out your vibrator ...."
"Oh Hosea, not that again! You always want to watch me with my vibrator. But you never let me watch you masturbate! That's not fair."
"What do you mean? I know you've said that before, but ... why would you want to watch me? When guys masturbate it's just kind of gross. It's something pimply teenagers do. Sure, I still do it now sometimes, but I can't imagine why anyone would want to watch."
Marie interrupted. "Wait, let me get this clear. Hosea, you like to watch Isabel masturbate with her vibrator, is that right?"
I nodded.
"So why can't you see that it's the same thing for her or me, just the other way around?"
"But girls are inherently sexy. Guys sure aren't!"
Marie went on. "All you're saying is that you're not attracted to guys. Fine, I think we already knew that. But Isabel and I are. Doesn't it make sense that we'd like to watch you, even if you wouldn't?"
I opened my mouth but couldn't think of anything to say.
Marie continued. "So listen. I've got a plan that will suit everyone. To start with, I've never used a vibrator before. I've never even seen one up close. So let's all take off our clothes and get in bed. Then Isabel, you start off by demonstrating how the vibrator works by using it on yourself. I'll study what you are doing. Then you give it to me, and I'll use it the same way. You'll let me know if I'm doing anything wrong. Hosea gets to watch both of us, which is what he wants to do. But then he has to masturbate openly to let us watch him. Does that sound like a deal?"
I had one practical question. My voice made a strangling noise from embarrassment, but I had to ask. "Umm ... when guys masturbate it ends in a lot of squirting. Usually I wrap myself in a rag or a dirty sock or something, to catch it. But if you want to watch me, you probably don't want me hiding it like that. What am I supposed to do?"
Isabel said, "Get a towel from the linen closet. Lay it flat on the bed. When you are about to squirt, aim for that."
And that decided it.
We were pretty businesslike about taking off our clothes. Isabel reached into a drawer by the bed and pulled out her vibrator—a simple, battery-operated one I'd picked up at the drugstore. Then she climbed into the middle of the bed; Marie was on one side of her, and I was on the other. She started off with the basics.
"You twist off the end here to put in the batteries. It takes two D-size. Then this dial at the base turns it on. And if you feel"—here she put Marie's hand on the shaft—"the intensity goes up or down as you twist the dial back and forth. So you can have it gentle like this, if you are just starting, or teasing yourself, or resting it on your nipples"—she pressed the vibrator head against Marie's right nipple for a second or two, and the nipple promptly swelled up and stiffened—"or you can crank it up to full strength like this for when you really need it."
"How do you know when to use which strength?"
 |
| It's the wrong kind of vibrator, and the two girls are partly dressed. So the picture isn't exact. It's what I could find online. |
Isabel laughed. "Just do what feels good! It's a vibrator, not a sports car. You can't damage it by using it. Just don't drop it in the bathtub!"
Then she went on. "If I'm in a hurry, I might put it on full strength the whole time. But since I agreed to show you how it works, I'll start off with it soft and gentle like this." She turned it to the gentlest setting, and slowly dragged it up and down across the surface of her slit.
"Now this setting is so mild that I can even do something else at the same time—just not for too long. But sometimes I'll be just starting in when Hosea comes back in the bedroom to ask me a question. So I can just clamp it between my legs like this," she said, suddenly locking her legs together so that the vibrator poked out from her crotch like a hard-on. "Then I can pull the blanket over me. My hands are free, and as long as there's some other background noise to hide the motor, Hosea doesn't even know that he caught me in the middle of strumming myself."
"How often have you done that?" I asked, startled.
"Wouldn't you like to know?"
"I would!"
"Well I'm not telling."
Marie interrupted. "Is that resting against your clit right now?"
"No, not quite, or I couldn't keep talking this long. But it's just a fraction of an inch away, and it's making the whole area vibrate most pleasantly."
"Push it up against your clit. I want to see the difference."
Isabel took hold of the vibrator at its base, and relaxed her thighs. Then she held the tool so that it was lying flush against her upper vulva and flat against her clit.
"When it's here, I can't talk so clearly." And indeed, her breath was already becoming heavier. "Also if I do this ... (breath) ... while it's turned down so low ... (breath) ... it just feels like teasing." She reached over with her other hand and turned the dial. The motor revved a little louder. "Ahh, that's better." Absent-mindedly she began rubbing the vibrator up and down along the length of her slit.
"Then the other thing to do is like this." Isabel's voice had gotten hoarse, and her eyes were unfocused. She shoved the tool all the way down until it found the way in, and plunged it inside. Rhythmically she pulled it out and shoved it back in. Her hips rocked gently in time. Her explanations drifted off into fragments. "Oh yes ... like that ...."
I was transfixed. The only times before when I'd been able to watch her from this close had been when we were both drunk, and my memory wasn't always so clear. But now she was lying right next to me, actively fucking herself with her vibrator. What did I want to watch most?
Here was her hand, plunging the tool deep into that warm, soft cunt that I knew so well, the cunt that grasped me and squeezed me dry, and that was now clutching this hard, penetrating, plastic machine. Her labia glistened with wetness, and her scent carried me away. For the second time that afternoon I was rigid, but I knew there was nothing for it right now. All I could do was watch helplessly.
Up there was her face, in lines of joy: head cocked back, hair flowing, eyes closed and mouth open, wrapped up in the sheer ecstasy of the moment.
In between, her hand danced and slid across her breasts, scratching her nipples and slapping the flesh beneath them.
Isabel tilted the vibrator forward inside herself, and lurched into a spasm. She cried out. Then she pulled it out and lay the head back against her clit while the motor whined at full force. She spasmed three more times and then lay back exhausted, turning off the motor before dropping it and going limp.
Marie said softly, "Oh my."
Isabel struggled to catch her breath, and then handed the tool to Marie. "Here you go. You might want to wipe it off first before using it."
Marie thought for a minute and then said, "No, I think I'd like to use it just the way it is right now. It feels sexier that way." She turned the dial to its lowest setting, and placed the vibrator gently against her outer folds. "So you start like this ...?" Then she gasped sharply. "Oh my." She opened her thighs wider and started to brush her vulva up and down with the tool.
I asked, "Can you hold it between your legs, so it sticks out like Isabel did?"
Marie shook her head a little vacantly and murmured, "Not ... unh ... later ... later ...." Now it was her eyes that were unfocused. Soon, far sooner than Isabel, she had cranked up the power and was rubbing the whole length of her vulva. Then she sat bolt upright, her eyes staring wide but unseeing, and cried out. A moment later she collapsed on the bed.
Isabel asked quietly, "Are you OK?"
Marie caught her breath and rasped. "I'm OK ... but I'm not done .... You said ... use it ... inside too .... Give me a minute ...." She turned the intensity down, and then with her left hand she slowly peeled back all the folds and delicate petals that guarded her portal. When the path was clear, she slid the vibrator inside.
For a minute she just lay there, letting it hum softly in place, making her tummy quiver just a bit. Then she began to push and pull, in and out—only a little at first, not enough to stretch her out or pound her cervix, but just enough to feel the vibrations rub against her inside walls. After a couple minutes she began to pick up speed, thrusting the tool farther inside and rocking her hips the way Isabel had. After another couple of minutes she pulled it out, pressed it back against her slit, clutched around it with another cry, and then lay back satisfied.
When we came to bed, I had brought a towel from the linen closet. Isabel took it to wipe off the vibrator thoroughly, then gave the tool to Marie and pointed to the drawer so she could put it away. Finally she turned to look at me. She caught my gaze, then made a show of running her eyes all the way down my chest until she was staring at my crotch. Marie did likewise.
After watching the two of them fuck so rapturously with an untiring machine, I was beyond hard. I'd been erect for so long I was aching, and I was already dribbling pre-cum. Isabel smiled and said, "Your turn." Then she scooted over so that I could lie down between them, and so they could watch every single thing I did.
How much do I need to describe? Every guy on Earth past the age of twelve knows what this looks like from the inside. If any girls are reading this ... my palm and the four fingers of my right hand curled around the underside of my shaft; my thumb looped around the upper side to join them. Then I slid my hand up and down, up and down, up and down. On the upstroke my hand brushed against the glans—not too hard, because that spot is so sensitive, but just enough to be exciting. On the downstroke my hand bumped against my body, just long enough to change direction.I kept thinking I should slow down ... open my hand more to make it more visible ... do something to make it a better show! But I had been waiting too long. I was too desperate, and too needy, and I couldn't stop.
In a short time, I began to feel the pressure build up inside me. Now was the time to stop for just a minute, to let myself pulse without squirting, in order to make it last longer. Or else now was the time to sit upright, so I could squirt onto the towel. Or else ... but no. It was too late and I was too far gone. I clutched wildly for the towel, and Isabel shoved it into my free hand. I tried to hold it where it could catch most of the mess. And then ... and then ... and then the world exploded, in my head and in my shaft. I was pumping and pulsing and gasping, and the whole world was good. I tried to wipe myself up a little more, and then sank back into the bed to rest.
I think I slept.
No comments:
Post a Comment