By now, you've read the story that Bob wrote, "Amy's ardent cries and whispers. Rick and I met Bob in Park City, Utah and we have continued our relationship after returning to our homes. Rick and I live in Denver Colorado. We were pleasantly surprised to find that Bob lives in the small mountain community of Idaho Springs, west of Denver.
Anyway, both Bob and Rick felt that a woman's perspective would be both entertaining and exciting. I am not a professional writer like Bob, so you will have to excuse my grammar and syntax.
Let me say, "Amy's cries and whispers" was a pretty extreme story. I was embarrassed when I learned it had been posted to the web because I don't think of myself as that kind of girl. I must admit, though, that Bob let me look it over prior to posting and I was not able to find any exaggeration or alteration of the truth. Despite my embarrassment, I admit I have read the story alone twice and masturbated each time.
So now it's my turn. Bob said to write about myself.
I can do that! I stand five foot six inches tall. I have dark, not jet-black hair, which falls to my waist when it is not braided. Most of the time I wear it in a braid that falls to the middle of my back. I have blue-green eyes, 36 B breasts which have stood up well to the time I have spent on earth. I am twenty-six years old and attend graduate school at CU in Boulder Colorado. I guess my appearance and affect could be termed feminine. I usually wear dresses and skirts and fairly modest blouses and jackets. I don't wear heels under any circumstances. Around home and going to the store and stuff, I favor shorts, tank and tube tops.
When I was younger, I used to hate it when people would look at me on the street. I especially hated it when some guy would position himself so he could see the side of my breast when I bent over in a tank top. As a result, I used to dress in oversized t-shirts and baggy jeans a lot.
Surprisingly, it was not meeting Rick that changed my mind about showing my body as a means of sexual expression. I had become a hopeless showoff long before Rick and I met. Even more surprisingly, it was another girl who started my down this path.
As an undergraduate, several years ago, I attended school in Greeley Colorado at UNC. First year students are required to live on campus and I had a dorm room that I shared with a girl by the name of Carol.
I was in my "Gothic" stage and as I have stated before, favored voluminous T-shirts and baggy pants picked from a wardrobe of almost all black clothing. I guess you could say that I wasn't really interested in boys at that point in my life. I was a pretty dedicated student.
I mean, I wasn't weird or anything. I had had boyfriends before and I didn't hate boys or anything, but at nineteen years of age I was still a virgin and, frankly, failed to understand what the ruckus was about sex. Every once in a while, I would masturbate, usually in the shower, but I didn't think about anything in particular, I just got into the feeling and used the shower head to its best advantage.
Anyway, back to my dorm mate, Carol.
Carol and I got along well. She was shorter than I was, about five -foot four inches, blonde, with a slender build. Carol was more of a jock.She was also far less modest than I was.
We had been in class for about two months and settled down into the academic routine. We would get in from class in the late afternoon, eat, study, maybe watch TV or listen to music and then go to sleep around ten PM.
We had turned in for bed and I had actually fallen asleep, when I woke up out of a dead sleep. Outside, the northern Colorado fall winds rattled the dorm window and aside from a strip of light showing from the outside hall under the door, our room was dark and silent. We slept across the room from each other with our beds arranged to give us a little privacy, but we were really only five feet apart and if we turned our head, we could see one another in bed.
I lie there, listening to the cold autumn wind rattle the building and became aware that Carol was not asleep. At least she was not breathing in the regular fashion of a sleeper. I heard her sigh and then another sound, almost masked by the wind outside.
I could hear a regular, rhythmic sound, muffled by the blankets covering her, but identifiable nevertheless; she was touching herself.
My first instinct was to try to go back to sleep, but at the same time I was intrigued and I might as well admit it, very aroused.
As a matter of fact, I had never become so aroused, so fast in my entire life. My breathing had deepened, my skin tingled, my nipples were so erect that it almost hurt when the fabric of my nightshirt moved against them.
I lay there without moving listening to Carol masturbate herself while my own excitement deepened and grew more intense.
She was taking her time, slowing down almost to a crawl and then speeding up with reckless abandon. I could hear her catch her breath, whimper as her hand would slow and then speed up again. She would bring herself to the brink and then stop while her ragged breathing would slow and become regular and then she would start rubbing her cunt again.
In all my life I had never been attracted to another girl and to be honest, it wasn't Carol or the idea of a girl that was making me so hot. It was the fact of her excitement, her raw sexuality and utter abandon that was making my clit stand up so hard that I felt I was going to crawl out of my skin if she didn't stop pretty soon. It was like her horniness was catching, if you can understand what I'm talking about.
She did not stop, however. She continued for the better part of an hour, teasing herself to a near climax, stopping, regaining her composure and then starting all over again.
At some point in time, I stole a glance out of the corner of my eye at her as she masturbated. Her knees were up under the covers and I could see the other hand moving under the sheet that still covered her breasts teasing a nipple or cupping a breast.
I had, almost unconsciously been caressing my own breasts for several minutes. Actually I had been cupping lightly and squeezing one and then the other. I did not dare to actually touch my nipples because they were so erect and sensitive that I was afraid that I would give myself away.
At the same time I was squeezing my legs together, feeling the slight pressure that this caused send cascades of sensation from my stiff little clit rippling outward through my body. I could feel liquid trickle from my aroused and aching mound wetting my inner thighs.
And still Carol kept touching herself. As time passed, she became more careless of my proximity, whimpering and whispering under her breath. She was not just rubbing her clit. I could hear her insert a finger inside of herself and the wet sounds this made as she moved it back and forth in the dark silence of the night.
How can I explain the agony of arousal and excitement I was experiencing? The little hairs on my arms were standing up as if electrified. As I squeezed my legs together, the smooth skin contacting itself sent such a sensation, as I had never experienced in my life. My breasts, which I had been cupping gently for some time, literally ached with excitement. They felt swollen, somehow larger than normal and each time I lightly squeezed them, I felt more ardent and laid bare then I ever had before.
As I listened, I began to do something I had never before tried. I began to imagine myself doing something that would have the same effect on Carol that her unknowing self-love was having on me.
In my minds eye, I imagined Carol sitting next to my bed watching as I teased my own cunt to orgasm, unable or unwilling through modesty or shame to satisfy her own excitement as she watched helplessly.
I imagined her flushed cheeks, her hard nipples showing through her nightshirt and her smooth legs endlessly crossing and uncrossing as she sat and watched me caught in the same agony of excitement and shame that still prevented me from simply joining her in mutual play.
This line of thought was not at all helpful. If I had been aroused before, my excitement was now tenfold. The images that were now flooding my fevered imagination became even more vivid and unsettling.
I imagined Carol and I both masturbating in front of a group of naked boys who were all stroking hard cocks as they watched us. I imagined first one and then another squirting gobs of white come into the air. I imagined Carol going into the group and sliding her slippery cunt onto one of the rigid cocks while the other boys and I watched her fucking the lucky guy while we all continued masturbating and watching.
I pictured myself sitting between two guys, rubbing my cunt while they stroked their cocks, lost in watching Carol as she slid up and down on a hard dick. I imagined one of the guys sitting next to me getting up and approaching Carol while she slid her slick and dripping cunt up and down, up and down.
In my minds eye, I saw Carol open her mouth and let him slide his erection into her mouth and before he could even get it past her lips begin to throb and squirt streams of hot cream into her mouth.
I imagined getting up and kneeling before the remaining guy, wordlessly offering my mouth to relieve his pent up lust, all the while teasing my rigid clit, shamelessly ministering to my own excitement, right there in front of him.
I could literally feel the knob of his engorged cock as I slipped my moist and warm mouth over its aching thickness. I could smell his excitement and taste the salt on his skin as I knelt in willing service to his lust.
All this time I had been lying motionless in bed except for lightly cupping and touching my swollen and tingling breasts. I had almost lost track of what was going on in the bed across the room.
Part of the reason I had lost track was because the images filling my mind were a total revelation to me. I had never before experienced such vivid and all encompassing mental pictures. The other part of the reason was that my own feelings of arousal were so intense that I no longer was capable of stopping these thoughts any more than I was able to slow the sensations sweeping my body.
