I was just trying to be helpful.
I guess my intentions weren't entirely altruistic, but my ulterior motives were innocent, I promise. I wanted Mom and Dad's permission to have Emily over to spend the night. We were both 18-year-old seniors in high school, and I didn't really want to spend my last spring break ever just vegging out and watching Fear Factor. And every teenage girl knows it never hurts to grease the wheels when she wants something, especially when it comes to her parents.
I was about to do a load of laundry and I thought that I could pick up a few brownie points with Mom if I threw some of her whites in with mine. Emily spends the night over pretty often, but usually it's on the weekend. This time it was the middle of spring break and I knew that Mom and Dad didn't really like to let me have company on nights when they had to go to work the next day. If I got on Mom's good side by doing a household chore without being asked, I'd have a much better chance of getting what I wanted.
It had been a long time since I'd been in Mom's walk-in closet, and I was a little surprised at how messy it was inside. But then I realized that most of the mess was just dirty clothes thrown all over the floor. I got down and started rooting through them and throwing Mom's whites into a laundry basket. I figured that I had found most of them when I spotted her white nightgown kind of thrown over some other stuff in the corner.
I grabbed the gown, and I was surprised to see that it had been covering a large machine of some kind. It was about the size of a breadbox and shaped like a beer keg cut in half lengthwise, with the cut side resting on the ground. It was covered in smooth dark vinyl, and there was some kind of remote control with two knobs and a logo that said, "Symbian."
I had no idea just what I was looking at. I was curious, but I didn't feel like I had stumbled onto some kind of big secret or anything. It was probably something that Dad used at work, or maybe an old science project from his college days. A pair of blue satin panties was draped over something long and skinny poking straight up from the top of the machine. Curious, I lifted them off.
I gasped with surprise at what I had uncovered. A big plastic penis was sticking out of the top of the machine. An amazed giggle escaped my lips as realized that this machine was some kind of serious giant mechanical dildo. I know that if there was a mirror in Mom's closet I would have seen myself turning sixteen shades of bright pink. I could see how it was supposed to be used - the girl would straddle the machine with her knees on the ground and push the penis inside her. She could slide up and down on it while she used the remote to make it vibrate or move around or something.
My amazement turned to shock when I realized that my own mother had probably used this thing last night, since her nightgown was the piece of clothing that had been hiding the machine. Trust me on this – no teenager likes to think of her parents having anything to do with sex. Never mind enjoying it or, god forbid, having an orgasm. But my very own mother, the woman who raised me and took care of me when I was sick and warned me about boys, had obviously put this penis inside her just because she liked how it felt. The vision of her bouncing up and down naked on it came unbidden to my mind.
Hastily I pushed the picture away. I wished that I had mental fortitude to stop thinking about it. But I couldn't. The whole idea of doing yourself with the machine took root in my head, and I found myself wondering what it would be like to slide my pussy down over that big rubber penis. What would it feel like to have that huge thing inside me? As I pictured lowering myself onto the machine a small jolt of anticipation jerked my body and I felt a tiny gush of pussy juice leak into my panties.
I think I blanked out for a second there, because the next thing I remember my hand was lightly stroking the business end of the machine. It was an unnatural shade of white, and was obviously supposed to look like a real penis. I guessed that it didn't matter too much what it looked like because it was meant to be buried inside a girl where nobody could see it. The rubber was slightly cool and even though it was pliable, it wasn't as soft as a real one would be. At least I didn't think so.
Although I'd done some heavy necking with assorted boys, I hadn't ever actually touched the business end of a boy. I marveled at how the vibrator felt in my hand, at how natural it seemed to have my fingers wrapped around that shape. So this is what one looked like. A guilty thrill washed through me as I wondered what Emily would think if I ever told her about my discovery.
Emily!
I suddenly remembered why I had come into the closet in the first place. If I was going to make some brownie points so that Emily could come over, I was going to have to do something other than wash Mom's whites for her. Mom had been hiding her toy from me, and I just knew we'd both die of embarrassment if she found out that I knew about it. In order to preserve her secret, I couldn't let her know I'd been in her closet. And sure as heck she'd notice if I took all of her whites to the laundry room.
I reluctantly let go of the rubber shaft and put Mom's blue lace panties back over it. Then I tossed her nightgown over the whole thing. I knew even then that I hadn't seen it for the last time. One way or another I'd be back. I took Mom's whites out of the laundry basket and tried to put them back where I'd found them. My mind was distracted with visions of me straddling a big rubber penis when I left Mom's room, the half full laundry basket under my arm and a pleasant throb between my legs. I threw the load of my whites in the washer and resigned myself to my other brownie point option, which was to mow the lawn.
I'd much rather watch some tube and fold clothes than mow, but the real fact of the matter is that mowing our lawn isn't such a big deal. It's a very stylish yard, with lots of plantings, rock walkways, and even a pool in the back – there's just not very much grass. The whole job took me about 20 minutes.
Not that I was concentrating on what I was doing. As I walked around behind the mower I discovered that if I walked just so, I could keep my pussy lips squishing gently against each other, which suited my horny mood just fine. The vibrations from the mower kept my thoughts centered on the vibrating machine in Mom's closet. I couldn't wait to finish mowing so that I could go to my room, throw myself on my bed and relieve the growing tension between my legs. Lately it never seemed to take much to prompt me to think of sex, and with all of the ammunition I had now there way no way for me to think of anything else. I was definitely not considering using the thing myself. But the thoughts of maybe having my very own Symbian machine – now there was an idea a girl could embrace.
When I was done with the lawn I modified my plans. I was feeling kind of sticky and dirty, so I decided to move my self-pleasuring to a more suitable location. I practically ran upstairs to my bathroom.
I kicked off my socks and peeled off my shorts and sticky panties and threw in them in the laundry basket. Would I ever be able to do any laundry without thinking of that machine again? I giggled as I thought of years of laundry and dirty thoughts ahead of me. My breasts popped free as I took off my t-shirt and I gave my tittys a quick rub. I turned on the faucet and let the water start to get hot. Like most teenage girls I kept pretty close track of how I looked, and while I waited I turned to the mirror for some naked self-inspection.
Dad always kidded me that I was too skinny, and I suppose that he was right. But the fact is I was proud of my figure, even if it was kind of boyish. My legs were long and lean, and as I looked at them in the mirror I tried to imagine what they would look like wrapped around some boy. I kind of liked the image. What would it be like to have a man laying on top of me and pushing his penis in between my legs? My pussy throbbed, begging for my touch. I indulged it a little by stroking myself and smearing the wetness around. Gosh, could anything feel better than fingering yourself?
Then the memory of that damned machine popped into my head again. How sexy would a girl look straddling on a Symbian? Watching myself in the mirror, I slowly squatted down on my heels, spreading my knees as I pretended that I was impaling myself on the machine. God, I looked so sexy. I couldn't believe the ache between my legs when I saw my white thighs spread open so that my pussy was exposed for easy penetration. I watched myself as I bounced up and down a little, pretending there was a Symbian machine under me. What would it feel like to have that thing inside you? What did it do when it was plugged in? My breasts bounced a little, and each jiggle sent a shiver of pleasure down between my legs.
I braced myself against the door with one hand, and I watched in the mirror as I reached between my legs with my free hand and tickled my clit. The pent up needs of my slippery lips practically gushed out of me, and I was halfway to an orgasm after a few seconds of wet diddling. My eyes felt dazed and I could barely focus on the mirror. I'd never seen myself like this before – a young girl ready for penetration with her pink lips begging for attention. I was the sexiest thing I'd ever seen, even if I was a girl. I was a little scared at how much I needed sex at that moment.
I didn't want to cum squatting on the bathroom floor. A girl's got to have some dignity, right? Shakily I stood back up and got into the shower. I adjusted the spray on the hand-held showerhead to a gentle massage and climbed into the shower. The warm wet fingers of hot water, the soft susurration of the spray, the gushy throbbing between my legs – I was in heaven. I lathered up and rinsed off, using my ever-so-slippery liquid shower soap with extra moisturizers. Orange blossom and jasmine scented, if it matters. Every once in a while I'd take my soapy fingers and massage my dripping pussy, nudging it back up to that spot where I was only a few strokes away from a good cum. I liked to balance on that edge, stringing it out before I gave myself to that release that every girl likes so much. I kept the drain closed and let the hot water rise around my ankles.
I had been playing with myself for a few years, but it was a pretty recent development to do it in the bathtub. Before I had always been on my back in my bed - the covers pulled up and trying not to moan out loud as I imagined some boy laying on top of me and thrusting his penis into me. But once I discovered the pleasures of bathroom diddling I learned some new things about myself.
One of them was that when I cum my legs tend to get so shaky that it's way too hard for me to stand. And I sure didn't want to have to explain to St. Peter that I had slipped in the bathtub and died because I was cumming too hard while I was playing with myself in the bathtub. I don't think he'd understand. So when I was all clean and it was time to play I laid down on my back, taking the pulsing showerhead with me.
