She Shows Me.

Emily. 

In bra and panties only, lying on our bed on a thick, luxurious bath towel. She lies on her back, yet her hips are rotated to the right. Her knees bent, and together. Looking at her makes my heart race. 

She looks…..yes, how does she look? It’s so difficult to describe. One moment she looks like a 23 year old siren, the next, just by the subtlest of moves, she looks almost adolescent. Is it her eyes? The way she lies on the bed? How does she do this? 

She looks between her breasts for a moment and then looks up at me her lips breaking into a cheeky grin. With one hand and a single, expert movement, she un lips her ‘front loader’ and it falls away from her breasts….her boobs…her ‘titties’ as she calls them. 

The are beautiful! Larger than mine of course, but then there are gnat bites out there larger than mine! Firm, almost solid, with that ripe cherry perched on a dark brown circle. 

Her expression changes from the smile to something else. The upward curve of her lips seems to slacken and her eyes penetrate mine. What is this? Love? Lust? Desire? 

She rolls sinuously onto her back and hooks her thumbs under the waistband of her panties. As she lifts her bum off the towel, her knees part and I see the wetness. When I was 12, I loathed this almost constant dampness in my panties….for about three months…then I began to rejoice in it. This is sex. This is sexual. This is woman. 

Men have their erections, and we have this exacerbated wetness….and  and erection in the form of an engorged clit. Lucky us. 

Emily slowly spreads her legs. Deliciously, delectably. One hand reaches to her labia, and two fingers spread them, exposing the pink, moist folds within and as she relaxes, I see her hole. I know her so intimately. I know every fold, ever crevice. I should, for my tongue has explored them all so many times. And her hole. I have proved my long tongue deep inside her so often and felt the contractions of her orgasms. How blessed am I? 

She closes her eyes and begins to masturbate. I feel so wet! It is flooding out to me into my panties. It is as if I can feel every touch she makes on herself. My mouth is dry with excitement….with anticipation. 

We do this from time to time…simply watch one another masturbate. Sometimes we tell each other what we are fantasising about, sometimes we don’t. Sometimes it’s each other, sometimes it’s other people, but it doesn’t matter. The privilege of being allowed to watch someone masturbate is often underrated in the headlong rush to have sex. But oh, that’s so misguided. When someone allows you to watch them masturbate, they are paying you the ultimate compliment of trust, and affection, and yes, of love too. 

Emily licks her lips. My vulva leaps in response, but my role here is to be silent. To observe. To share by empathy alone.

She takes a couple of deeper breaths. I think she will speak to me of what is in her mind. 

“The locker room…..you. 13? ….” Always when she talks like this, it is disjointed, but yet the words paint the perfect picture in my mind of what is in hers.

“Girls…..showering….your secret…..your wetness….born of masturbation.” Chronology means nothing either as she slips back in time half an hour.

“Her panties in your hand……smelling…inhaling her…..pussy….vagina….cunt.” 

(Pause)

“Licking…..sucking….tasting….cunt juices…..piss?”

Her nipples are like rocks. Emily always cums quickly when she masturbates…..so do I too. We can both go from cold start to orgasm in minutes if we want to. Her hole dilates and her perineum contracts. Soon, then? 

“Watching her shower…the girl whose panties you used…..smelling her still on you…..watching as she touches…..titties…..bum….cu…..”

She gets no further. Head and shoulders off the bed, she orgasms strongly, her hole contracting visibly and oozing aa milky wetness onto the towel. 

Although she was thinking of another girl, she was participating in my early sex life, sharing wht I did, what I enjoyed, just at that emergent stage of sexuality. 

I ache for her. I want her inside me so urgently it hurts. 

She sits up onthe bed, and I spread my legs, jamming my hand into my slogged panties. I close my eyes, imagining the girl concerned. Miss Brain surrounds me with the reality of the locker room, it’s steamy, female smells, the sound of the showers running, even Sister Margaret standing by  the enormous mixer tap, ready to turn it to full cold after three minutes exactly…..and Helen…..Helen whose panties I'd. used……washing herself….perhaps spending a fraction too long soaping between her legs…..Helen's scent on her panties…..oooooohhh.

I collapse into orgasm, squirting freely into my panties. I squirt heavily, more heavily than Emily can. It amuses her to see it. She loves it when I squirt or pee my panties. 

she asks a single worded question. "Pee?" 

I shake my head. 

"No. I mean, would you like to?"

Damn, she knows me so well!!

wordlessly, she leads me to the batjroom.