Such Stuff as Dreams are Made Ch. 02

"Okay then, party pooper. If you won't tell us what you do when you masturbate, how about showing us instead?" Ben was un-tethered now.

"And if I don't?"

"Well, it's forfeit time, and we have pretty creative minds..."

"Well that's a lie."

"...But we won't need them. Because we all know how much you hate to lose."

He was right, damn him. I looked to Owen for support.

"Let's just stop now, shall we. Amelia's had to do more than enough already today."

It was exactly what I wanted to hear. And yet disappointment flooded me as soon as he said it. I realised how horny I still was. It may have been counter-intuitive. Perhaps even a bit self-abusive. Certainly it shows, looking back, how emotionally vulnerable I was. But I wanted to do it. It might be my last chance to bare myself before my friends. The idea of that brought a tear or two to my eyes. This wasn't just a sexual feeling; it was a need for intimacy that no amount of familial cuddles could fulfil. I wanted my friends to know and accept me for who I really was. I wanted them to reciprocate and, in doing so, find communal relief for my hitherto solo perversion.

I wanted to feel that I wasn't as sexually messed up as I imagined myself to be.

I fixed my face. "I can't just back out now."

"Well then? What's it going to be?"

Cold feet. I looked around in the hope that someone would save me. No-one did.

"I guess I better get on with it. But I'm setting the ground rules, okay?"

"Sure! Whatever you say."

"You don't have to do this, you know Amelia. We could stop now and go watch a movie or something."

"Thanks John, but it's okay. I've made my bed, now I guess I better masturbate in it, so to speak."

He winced.

"What are the rules?"

"First, I want the lights off. You can turn on a small sidelight, and even focus it on me if you have to, but I don't want to be able to see your faces staring at me. It will put me off."

"Sure, no problem."

"Good. Secondly, no talking, for exactly the same reason."

"Check."

"And third, get chairs and sit down. I don't know how long it will take me to cum and I don't want you guys getting bored and shuffling about breaking my focus."

"Yeah right. You are going to masturbate in front of us, and we are going to get bored. Whatever."

"Oh, and finally. I will be under the covers. Because this isn't a porn film and you are not that lucky."

"You can't blame us for hoping."

"You're right, I can't. Now piss off while I set up."

When they were gone I sat down on the bed and sighed. I wanted to do this. But that didn't mean I wasn't scared. A tear bubbled from my eye and I brushed it away. No! I stood up and shut the curtains. I positioned the lights so they focused on the bed. I was almost deliriously horny and at least as much terrified. The arousal was winning. It was like a hole in my stomach, a big empty cavern of desire which needed to be filled. And, despite everything, I felt this was right. It was right that I should do this in front of my friends. It was an affirmation of our friendship. Who else would do this for them? I realised how much I was about to turn them on.

I found a can of deodorant and sprayed it liberally, hoping to freshen the air, but succeeding only in choking myself. I arranged the pillows to provide a comfy nest to lie on, and made sure the duvet would cover me completely.

I undressed.

This presented the first enticing question. Should I enjoy the experience as luxuriously as possible and get completely naked, or simply remove my combats and pull my knickers to the side? Would they expect me to be naked? What would they think of me if I was? I decided full nudity was the best choice. It offered the maximum satisfaction for all of us.

However, when I was stripped down to my bra and panties, I realised it would be best to leave it there for now, and then I could get naked easily enough if I chose to. I climbed under the covers and made myself comfortable. I looked at my hands, trembling. They were freezing, too. I held them together, breathing warm air over them as best I could.

I took a deep breath, and called them back in.

It was clear from the look in their eyes as they entered that they thought they were walking into some kind of Santa's grotto. I was propped up against the pillows, shoulders and bra strap visible over the covers. They each glanced at me as they came by, but quickly made their way over to the chairs I had set up across the room. I wanted to know they were there, and imagine their eyes intent upon me, but not actually see their faces. I wanted to feel completely free to go where my whim took me, without fear that thinking about them would interrupt my thoughts.

When they were settled in, I began. No word of introduction. No movement to suggest that I was starting. I just brushed my hand across my knickers to see how wet I was and was gone. I had to stop myself from going too fast and spoiling it for everyone.

I stopped, breathed deeply, and closed my eyes. My skin was already nearly too aroused to touch. This was no good. I had to get fully naked.

I sat up higher and ached around to remove my bra. I pushed my underwear down and over my feet. Lightly pinching my nipples I let out an exploratory moan to see how it would sound. At the same time, my other hand made its way down to my pussy, where it slipped graciously in and stroked up and down my labia.

In this way I continued for some time. There was just me and my body, and the faceless eyes watching. Such a thrill to know they were out there, such a turn on to imagine what I was doing to them. Were they touching themselves?

I could feel an orgasm deep down inside me, and I focused on keeping it at bay for as long as possible. My middle finger pinioned in and out of me, index and ring finger stroking my labia on either side. With my other hand I circled and cupped and pressed my clitoris. I had slid down in bed so that the duvet now covered nearly all my head. I imagined that Owen was creeping slowly towards me, that at any moment he would lift the covers and give me a hand. I imagined banishing Ben and John from the room, and then giving myself to him completely.

"Ahhhhhmmmppppphhhhhhh" I breathed quietly.

"Mmmmmmmmmmnnnnyeeaaaahhh"

I writhed under the covers, stroking harder, my breath coming in short sharp puffs.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, oh yes, oh yes, oh yes, yes, yes, yes..."

I was close. It was too late to delay my orgasm. The ripples in my body were growing ever more focused around my genitals. I bucked my hips and spread my legs wider. The duvet rode higher over my face so that I was certain my audience could see something of my legs and possibly even my genitals. I tried to shift up a bit so as to recover myself, lifting my legs high up in the air as I did so and completely exposing the top half of my panting body. I reached a hand around for my anus and as soon as I got my finger tip inside the entrance, I felt my body tighten and pull together.

The orgasm ripped through me. It felt like I was contracting: becoming a clitoris and little else. My thoughts and sensations were contained within a small area between my upper thighs and lower abdomen. I clenched my vagina around my invading fingers, squeezed my bum with finger breaking force, clenched my eyes shut, and held my breath like I was trying to crush my lungs from the inside out.

And then wave after wave after wave after wave after wave after wave after wave after wave of pleasure settled upon me. At one point, I am sure I screeched with pleasure, a long loud moan of delight. I let the waves take me.

I don't know what happened next. An indeterminate period later, I opened my eyes and found that I was staring up at the ceiling, with the duvet now squished and folded over my lower body, and my breasts heaving in the open air, visible to everyone. I stayed still, eyes blinking in the spotlight. Their chairs had edged closer to almost within touching distance. Owen in between John and Ben. Three barely concealed erections beyond my reach. I tried to smile. They didn't know what to do. I reached out and took Owen's hand. He just stared at me. I tried to resist it but the tug of sleep was impossible to refuse.

In bed that night, Ben called my name across the room.

"Amelia, are you awake?"

"What?"

"I wanted to say, you are the most awesome sister I can imagine having."

"Thanks."

"And to answer your question: when I masturbate, I fantasise about you doing exactly that."

The rest of the weekend passed pretty normally and before long we were on the train and travelling back to the everyday boredom of London. Ben and I didn't talk much, just sat opposite each other staring at the blurred green landscape outside of the window.

Little did I know that I was about to have that moment of masturbatory revelation, when all the pieces of my sexual discovery jigsaw fell into place, and the idea of a movie became irresistible.

By this stage I was only moments away from coming, and my mind was full of breasts and pussies, cocks and bums, all surrounding me and using me for their own sexual gratification. I had Natalie poised over me, her pussy dripping juice into my mouth. Anna was impaled on my left hand, bouncing up and down as I brought her off. Owen was fucking me. John in my bum. And I was wanking Ben with my right hand. It was ecstasy.

Although I was part of the action, I found that I was also watching it through the lens of a camera. We were in a field and, as I looked up, there was a camera reflecting the scene back to me, its little red LED flashing to say that everything was being recorded for posterity.

I came, hard and fast and unlike anything I had ever known before. There was not a long build up. It attacked me suddenly, catching me off guard.

I still have that moment on camera, and I watch it regularly. I bought an entire set of editing equipment a few years ago that I could make a digital copy of the old tape. You can pinpoint the exact moment I went from everyday masturbation-in-front-of-a-camera sassiness to something else. My eyes glaze over, my back arches so far off the bed that I look like a contortionist swallowing myself. My hand is glued to my clit, rubbing back and forth fast as a hummingbird. I remove my hand from my pussy and bring it up to my mouth, to taste myself while bathed in post-orgasmic comfort.

And, more importantly, while I wondered whether it would be possible to make such a movie...