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When In Rome, or Bologna

Posted by: Author: Age: 24 Posted on: 0 comments
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If you like this story please let me know and I can tell you about our Spring semester.
My univeristy studies program provided me with an opportunity to travel south for a year of study in Italy. The university there was good enough to help me find arrangements for a flat with a girl who lived less than a kilometer off of the campus. After a few weeks in country and after the first week of classes I noticed two things that seemed unique to that part of Europe: few of the girls bother with knickers and every night there is a wankers only program on telly. I kept these observations to myself, but I noticed that my flatmate watched the telly program every evening (the only telly in the flat was at the foot of her bed but I could see it when I passed by and here it in my own room). What was odd was that the images were all of girls touching themselves, no boys. It wasn't until fall study break time that I broached the subject with my flatmate and she laughed it off saying that the Italian macho man would never dare to allow his woman to see a naked man on telly (and that he'd never want to admit to seeing another's hard penis). So, she said, she and the other girls of Italy had to satisfy themselves with watching their own sex and imagine otherwise. By that I assumed she meant imagining boys watching telly and doing the same. She suggested I join her that evening for the show and I agreed. When the time came I went into her room to find her sitting on one side of her bed on top of the counterpane and so I did the same on the other. Not long into the show I could feel myself getting flushed if not a bit moist and I wondered if she was inured to it all by now. I watched for another 20 minutes or so and then excused myself for the night. Back in my room I changed into my pyjamas and couldn't believe how wet I was. I slid a finger across my pubic hair and could see that the ends of the curls were moist and, looking down, also saw my clit standing nearly straight out amongst my lips. I couldn't help but bring myself to a quick cum, and then another. After watching with her for the better part of another evening I excused myself to go to bed and my flatmate told me that it wasn't necessary to leave to 'you know.' I was embarrassed and said that I felt I should move on. She told me that she touched herself too (I'm sure she didn't hear me last time, I was very quiet) and that I could stay and continue to enjoy the images on the telly. With that, she reached down to her skirt and touched her fingers beneath the hem. Perhaps I now had my answer for why so few girls wore knickers. I felt a tightness in my stomach but also a tingling in my pussy, so I pressed against the crotch of my pants to relieve the feeling. She continued her ministrations and I raised my hips a bit to slide my pants downward. It didn't take long before we both were focussed on our own pleasure and allowing our moans and sighs to spur the other closer to climax. I came first but she began as well before I had time to relax my muscles. I smiled sheepishly and went off to bed. We repeated our activities with very slight variation for almost a month until the weather began to turn a big cooler. My flatmate had a throw over her legs one evening and in order for me to share in its warmth I had to be slightly closer to her than in the past. To be honest the proximity wasn't something I'd even noticed until a short time after we'd begun touching ourselves when she reached her right hand over to flesh exposed by my hip and rested it there. I froze for a moment, perhaps too long because she started to move her hand away. But I said 'no' and rested my left hand on her thigh just below her upturned skirt. She smiled and moved her fingers closer to my pussy until they were just touching my pubic hair. I took a deep breath and attempted to do the same but found that she was cleanly shaven and my fingertips touched the slick moistness of her lips. With that she moved her hand more forcefully to me and begin sliding her finger along my own wet lips and gently over my clit. I turned slightly to give her better access and she did the same as my finger almost involuntarily slipped inside of her. We didn't say a word but we each continued to masturbate the other until our breathing became short and I'm not even sure who came first because each of our moans triggered the other to greater heights of pleasure. For the rest of that Fall and Winter we would join together several nights a week and masturbate one another to the wankers on the telly. Italian men may not want their women to see another man's penis, but they don't realize that instead they're causing them to find the pleasure of another woman's vagina.

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