I’m consistently amazed by how many forms love, sex, and lust can take on. Sex is not just intercourse, obviously, but maybe it’s two people not even touching. I’m talking about mutual masturbation. It can be just as hot, just as arousing, just as sexy as fucking.
(Or maybe it’s called “taking-turns masturbation.” Seriously, what’s the term for this? Serial masturbation?)
Whitman and I were lying in bed, chatting about nothing and everything and sexy stuff in between. (I’m starting to notice that lots of my stories start this way, but I digress…) We weren’t holding cocktails, as we often are, but we were holding cock. Whitman’s cock, to be specific. Not at first, though. We were just having a varied and wide-ranging conversation, bouncing from here to there and back to here again.
We were talking about his upcoming business trip and how lonely I’d be, and how nice it would be for me to have company at night while he’s gone. We watched a video online of a cock being teased mercilessly by a sexy lady. I was also telling him about some of my suddenly-bubbling-over bisexual desires… things like placing my mouth to tits, lips to lips, tongue to ass.
As we talked, I lightly stroked Whitman’s cock, which had grown rock-hard. I used my fingers to swirl the pre-cum all around the head. We kept talking casually, and then suddenly he grabbed his own erection, taking it from my hand. It was like an uncontrollable urge. He stroked and stroked, as I lightly brushed his balls with my fingers. He came in an instant, it seemed. Semen was everywhere, coating his cock and his hand. I hopped up to get him a warm washcloth.
That’s when I felt the wetness that had escaped my folds and seeped down to my inner thighs. I hadn’t moved or touched myself while I watched Whitman. Just from watching him and whispering dirty words to him I was swollen and dripping wet. I stopped in my tracks and returned to the bed. It was my turn to have an uncontrollable urge to touch myself, and my turn to cum.
