After that first intimate evening when you masturbated in front of me, we have not spoken about it but our mutual glances across the classroom now have a greater sense of knowing and a total lack of shyness. We can look each other directly in the eye and hold the glance for an extended time, seeming to know exactly what each other is thinking; knowing what we have experienced together in the cozy privacy of your flat. After two weeks have passed, you invite me for a second visit. This time I know what to expect as I mount the stairs-or at least I think I do.
You meet me at the door, still dressed in the clothes you wore to class, and lead me by both hands to the sofa, seating yourself next to me in an open position that seems to reflect a new level of intimacy. I can't tell whether it is intended to convey girlfriend/boyfriend or just 'I'm glad you are here again.' For what seems like ten minutes, no words are spoken; only a deep looking into each other's eyes, as if we are both wondering, 'What am I doing here? What's going to happen tonight? Can I really go through with this?'
Finally, you break the silence: 'I told you I've been reading Solo Touch since the Proaxis days, didn't I? Well, the other day I went through the archive looking for any stories submitted by Ben. I was sure I remembered seeing that name before, and sure enough, I found some that sounded like they could have been written by you. It was around January and February of 2005. That was you, was it not? There was one that really resonated with me about being home alone on a gloomy autumn afternoon. It was so much about what I felt like being home alone in my parents' house after school, knowing I had lots of time to be naked and do anything I wanted to do. I felt like it could have been written by my counterpart in the male universe, a sort of masturbation soul mate. I also came across one about masturbating in front of the girl next door. You did write that, didn't you? You have to confess to me right now that you wrote that. When I read that story, I felt like I knew exactly where you were coming from when you watched me two weeks ago. I felt like 'This is someone I can trust; someone I might be able to fully open up with.' Well anyway, what are you thinking about doing tonight? Are we really going through with this?? I'm excited and nervous and scared.'
I responded that I would love to watch you go through all of your preparations and foreplay, and see you masturbate fully from beginning to end, as if I wasn't even there-or as if you were with your best friend who you could say anything and do anything in front of. This time, I would like to be naked and kneeling between your legs, teasing and touching myself. Not necessarily beating off to a climax, but being there mainly to share your experience. I would like to hear your running commentary on what you are doing, how it feels when you touch yourself, the thoughts and fantasies that are going through your head, what you are thinking about doing next, how it feels to be watched, and what it's like to have me here naked with you.
But first I would like to hear your story of our first experience and the thoughts you have had about it in the past two weeks. Do you remember it happily? Have you masturbated a lot of times thinking about it? I have! Is there anything you do when you masturbate that you would still feel ashamed to do in front of me?
You put your arms around my neck and we exchange a long, warm hug like old friends who are happy to be together again and happy to have each other as friends. Our hug seems to know that this will be our only physical contact until after whatever is going to happen. It knows without words that both of us will respect the other and that neither will take advantage of the situation. In means you can be naked and masturbate in front of me, and I can be naked between your legs while you masturbate, and I will not fuck you. You can jill off as much as you want tonight and make yourself feel really good; have orgasms until you are so relaxed and drained that you can't do any more. You can look at my hard dick just inches from your pussy and imagine how good it would feel to have it in you as you finger your clit, and it can be nothing more than that-an explicit sexual fantasy being played out before your eyes. My hug says that after this is all played out, I would like to hold you for a very long time, just lying together talking about anything and everything. In a moment so private and personal as that, I would like to hear details of your masturbation history, and how you discovered you are bisexual, and what that is like for you. I hope you don't think I'm too nosy!
For the next hour and half, everything we have just talked about or communicated non-verbally happens. Except that in my wildest dreams and most erotic fantasies, I could not have imagined how sexy it would all feel. How sexy it would actually look to be between your long, smooth legs and see your bare, wet pussy, with your fingers going all over it, inside and out. To see your middle finger slip down the crack of your ass and circle the rim of your other hole. To watch the expression on your face as you think about whether to penetrate yourself a little there. ('Would he think I'm too weird if I did that?') I swear that I can read your mind through the expressions on your face, as if you are my masturbation soul mate, right here and now in a timeless moment of sexual animation that feels both raw and restrained.
I think back to watching you in your foreplay and undressing a mere half hour ago. How you stopped as you passed the full-length mirror and watched yourself circle a finger over your still-covered nipples. (I could easily put myself in the same situation in front of my mirror, flicking my fingers lightly over my nipples and thinking 'I wonder if I feel like beating off today?' I've gone through those motions a thousand times, at least. Usually I am naked a few minutes later, watching myself beat off in the mirror.) I loved watching you undress, knowing that I was getting to see exactly how this girl would like to be undressed. I indulged myself in a quick fantasy about what it would look like to see you and a girl friend in this very room, in this very mirror, undressing each other for mutual masturbation and girl sex, but I quickly returned to being present with you in this moment. This moment is entirely sexy enough; I do not need to fantasize. I loved seeing you finally naked, looking at yourself in the mirror and walking around your room as if I wasn't even there; perhaps you were just savoring the thought of how good this was going to feel. I think you might be wondering how long you would tease and deny yourself. Feeling like you can't wait to be rubbing yourself, but knowing that the anticipation is delicious too. I'd like to believe you are thinking about how cool it feels that you can be totally naked in front of this guy and be walking around your bedroom casually preparing to jill off. A little pinch of your hard nipples. A squeeze of your firm breasts with the palms of your hands. A little flick over your clit to see if it is wet, pausing while you are there to flatten your middle finger across the full length of your slit and to feel the wetness, the tingling sensitivity of your lips, the hardness of your clit pressing against the fleshy pad between your first and second knuckles; pausing with your finger there to imagine what it will feel like to fully rub this very part of your body; to imagine what it will feel like to stick one or two fingers into your secret hole that is waiting to be filled up. I love watching this and knowing, from my own experience, what you are probably thinking and feeling. I'm all tingly and trembly. God, I would love to beat off right now. It requires all the self-discipline I am capable of to resist touching myself...or touching you. You are so beautiful. I love a woman's body. I love knowing that women are sexual in almost exactly the same way that I am; that we have the same thoughts and needs and desires.
I wish you would write your own story completing this story in your own words. Think of my story as setting the stage and the scene for you. You are the actor. I would love to hear exactly what you would do to yourself in this moment and what it would look like and feel like and be like for you.