She loved watching him masturbate. The way he looked with his hand wrapped around his hard cock, pumping it up and down, never failed to arouse her. Just thinking about it now made her nipples stiffen and that warm familiar feeling of wetness begin between her legs. She shifted in her chair and rubbed her thighs together creating a bit of friction that only increased the dampness in her panties. She was never going to get any work done this way. She stared at the blank computer screen in front of her and tried to concentrate on the report she was supposed to be doing. But it was of no use. The images returned to her mind and seemed to appear on the screen.
She remembered the first time she had seen him do it. She had gone on to bed one night and he had stayed up. He suffered from periodic insomnia and on those nights when he was unable to sleep he would stay up late and watch television. That night she had awoke and got up to check on him. The living room was down the hall from the bedroom and he did not see her approach. The only light in the room came from the TV; the rest was cast in shadows. As she neared the room she heard a sound that seemed to come from the couch, not the TV. She paused in the dark, listening carefully in an attempt to determine what it was. Several seconds of silence passed and she was about to speak to him when she heard it again. Again, she hesitated. It had sounded like a moan. For an instant she felt a panic, fearing that something was wrong with him. But, for reasons, she did not actually understand, instead of speaking, she moved closer, quietly.
The shadows that filled the edges of the room, as well as the fact that she was behind him, kept her from his field of view. Cautiously, she crept closer. With a feeling of trepidation, she peered over the back of the couch. What she saw in the soft glow of light took her by complete surprise. He was lying there, naked with his hand wrapped around his cock. It was hard and swollen and at the very tip a drop of wetness glistened.
To say she was shocked would be an understatement. She had often wondered if he masturbated but she had never had the nerve to ask him. Their sex life had always been fantastic, still she had been curious about whether or not he ever felt the need to take matters into his own hands, as it were. Now the proof was in front of her and she did not know at first whether to feel hurt or not. But as she watched his hand slide up and down his shaft what she felt, instead of hurt, was arousal. It was, she had to admit, an incredibly erotic sight.
She realized that she should probably say something or do something to let him know she was there, but she did not. Instead, she stood perfectly still, barely breathing, and watched fascinated as he continued to stimulate himself with long slow strokes. His cock was very swollen and the moisture at the tip increased with each stroke he took. Her mouth began to water and she felt a tingle in her nipples and a moisture beginning between her legs.
He was pumping with his right hand and with his left he was gently squeezing his balls. The moans that she had heard, she knew now, were his moans of arousal. He had his legs parted and was thrusting his hips a bit with each downward stroke. Occasionally, he would pause and use the palm of his hand to rub the precum around on the head until it was wet all over then he would slide his thumb around the edges. Whenever he slid it along the soft underside of the head, his body would twitch and he would moan softly. That was the spot, she knew, that he liked her to stimulate with the tip of her tongue so much. Without thinking about it, she parted her lips slightly and moved a hand to one of her breasts. She could not believe how aroused she was becoming just from watching him.
His eyes were closed and she wondered what he was thinking about. What was going on in his fantasy? Was she there? Were others there? She noticed that he had a kind of a rhythm going. He would pump himself fast up to a point and then he would stop and pull the skin down tight along the shaft towards his balls. When he did so his cock seemed to swell in his hand and she could clearly see, even in the dim light, the veins bulging just beneath the surface of the skin. Her own hands were not idle either. With her left one she squeezed her breast and pinched the hard nipple through the material of her gown. Her right hand had lifted the hem of her gown and her fingers had found her swollen clit and were stroking it lightly. She struggled to control her breathing, afraid that if she made any noise, he would hear her and stop what he was doing. She did not want him to stop. She wanted to watch him finish. Her legs had begun to feel weak and she hoped that they would hold her up until then.
Again and again he would pump himself to the edge and then stop. She thought about the feelings of pleasure he was experiencing and knew that they must match her own. Her pussy was so wet that she feared that he would hear the soft sounds her fingers were making there as she circled them around and around her clit. But he was lost in his fantasies and in his own pleasure. The moisture was oozing from the tip of his cock now and she watched him use it to lubricate the shaft so that his hand would slide easier. He was thrusting his hips up and down with each stroke and his pace had become faster. She sensed that he was nearing his orgasm and she knew that hers was fast approaching as well. His hand practically became a blur as he pumped his cock fiercely, almost savagely. The rawness of it, the power of it, was almost overwhelming. Her legs were shaking and she stifled a moan as she slipped a finger into her pussy. She moved it in unison, in and out of herself, as she watched his hand. Suddenly, his body stiffened and with a groan he ejaculated. Spurt after spurt of thick cum flew from the tip of his cock and landed on his chest and stomach. She was amazed at the amount of it and with the force with which it shot out. She imagined it shooting inside of her and the thought sent her over the edge into her own orgasm. She bit her lip and fought to remain silent as she heard him groan again and watched as he lifted his hips and pumped his cock mercilessly, his body shuddering each time he ejaculated more cum. There was so much of it. The slightly graying hair on his chest was wet with it and it pooled on his quivering stomach. Thick strands of it covered his cock and hand. No wonder, she thought, she often felt it draining from her for hours after they had made love.
Gradually, his hand slowed and his body began to relax as the force of the orgasm began to subside. For her own part, she was trembling and suddenly realized that she either needed to move or would collapse where she was. Her orgasm had been a strong one yet she was still extremely aroused. Looking at him, lying there, holding his cum soaked cock in his hand, she knew she had to touch him, to have him touch her. Tentatively, on weak legs, she took a step toward the couch and cleared her throat.
