Hardly Daring to Breathe

Posted by: Author: Age: 25 Posted on: 0 comments
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This is hardly the most risque experience, but nonetheless it has lingered in my mind for quite a few years-there is something about the simple eroticism and simplicity that still captures me.



My first girlfriend-we'll call her J-was a beautiful spirit. She had that amazing quality of innocence which seldom outlasts childhood. We were both virgins when we met, and certainly neither one of us had had very much in the way of sexual experience.



I was surprised, though, when she told me that she'd never masturbated-she said she'd never really felt the urge! I told her that she should get to know her body better, in her own time, and that there was nothing dirty about it. She seemed to agree with me, but said nothing at the time.



It wasn't until several weeks later that she confessed she'd tried it for the first time, after reading a particularly erotic section of Like Water For Chocolate. Of course, she loved it, and said so.



So she had begun. Fast forward many months, to a bedroom in the early morning, with the two of us sharing a double bed.



I don't know what it was that woke me that day, but I remember that I was lying on my side facing away from J. I opened my eyes but still hadn't moved or spoke when I felt little movements in the bed beside me. Then I heard a soft sigh, and realised what was happening. For whatever reason, J had woken up and decided to indulge her fantasies, without waking me!



Of course, this turned me on far more than her actually involving me-for I have always been quite a voyeur-and as I'm sure most girls will tell you, the way they masturbate alone is quite different from how they do it with a partner or an audience.



So there I lay, not daring to move or breathe, listening to the tiny, muffled sounds J made as she touched herself, trying hard, obviously, not to wake me. She was so sensual, so unhurried. I felt myself drawn into her desire, feeling her body move against the sheets, the subtle but perceptible movements of her hand. As her breathing became faster, rougher, I had so much trouble to maintain my own equilibrium. Keeping my breathing even was almost impossible, but I fought to control it, not wishing to spoil the moment. At last I heard her sighs turn to soft, restrained moans, felt her hands move faster and finally stop completely at the moment she came, and I felt her body rise and fall against the mattress.



In the erotic silence that followed, I swallowed with a dry throat. Keeping myself totally still, my eyes closed, my breathing slow, even as she leaned over to see if I was awake. She touched my back, as lovers do when they don't wish to wake you, then went back to sleep, no doubt feeling far more peaceful than I.

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