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Friday Night

Posted by: Age: 30ish. Or so. Posted on: 26 comments
14 likes 20 views Category: Masturbation Female Solo Tags: solo, reading, watching, dreaming
On an evening alone, I discover the power of the written word.

It was the first Friday night that found me home alone in well over a year. My husband's employer had him across the country, three time zones away on a project. After seeing him off at the airport on Tuesday morning, our relationship has been by telephone every evening when he gets to his hotel room. The calls are short, just a quick synopsis of what he did that day, how we both miss each other and a promise to call again tomorrow. Then for him it's off for dinner and for me it's a couple hours of tv and then to bed.

But Friday has always been our special night, and I really needed more than a phone call. I wanted so bad to lay against him here on the couch. Imagining how I would be stroking his chest, or how he'd slide his hand between my thighs, I could feel a tingle running through my body. And it dawned on me. I'm horny!

"Snap out of it," I command myself. I try find something on tv to occupy my thoughts. No help. Maybe something to watch online? Google and I begin seeking out different streaming sites on my laptop. Some shows look promising, but maybe some other time - so they get bookmarked. But nothing that really grabs me in the here and now.

And then a mistyped URL leads me to SoloTouch. One of the stories on the home page grabs my attention. Seconds later, I'm clicking "read more" to see how the story of voyeur stroking his cock while watching the voluptuous neighbor masturbate turns out. And I'm drawn into the story, imagining I'm the desirable young lady holding the vibrator next to her clit and that the author cums  while watching me. And my hand is thrust down between my legs, rubbing. I reach the end of the story, but I'm nowhere close to being finished fingering my clit. 

I close my eyes, and replay the story I just read in my mind. This time I'm laying on my bed. I see him watching me, but I don't stop to cover up. The thought of a stranger being turned on watching me drives me to tense every muscle in my body. After a number of replays, I finally reach orgasm.  

Looking back, Mr. Mystery Man must have come a dozen times before I finally climaxed. I think he owes me.

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