Masturbate for Me

Masturbate for Me

I couldn't sleep. I lay awake in bed, trying to will myself into a deep slumber, but I couldn't manage it. It was already one in the morning, but my body wasn't the least bit tired. I knew I should be. I knew I'd be tired the next day if I didn't sleep soon. But I had too much energy right now. I sighed. I might as well get out of bed. Staying here wasn't accomplishing anything. Maybe I could find something to read.

I got up, put on some boxers in case my roommate Hannah woke up, went out to the living room, and made my way to the bookshelf. I grabbed a graphic novel off the shelf and sat down with it, the lights on low, letting my brain relax as I read about haunted hotels and amusingly incompetent demons. And yet, my body remained alert. Always when you didn't want it...

I put the volume back on the shelf and slid my hand through the air down the assorted spines, looking for something that might interest me, when something new caught my eye. I pulled the colorful, squat, thick book off the shelf. The multicolored title read, "Hannah's Caribbean Vacation," arching above a turquoise sea, a sandy beach, and tropical fruit emojis scattered about. That's right, she had gone a few months back with some friends, returning smiling and sunkissed. She must have made an album out of it.

I hesitated a moment, wondering whether I should look through it. It felt somewhat invasive, but it was on the communal bookshelf. I carried it back to the couch and flipped it open, my eyes glancing from photo to photo.

There was Hannah on the deck of a cruise ship, something colorful and presumably alcoholic in her hand, a book beside her, as she smiled at the camera. There she was dolled up at the casino, her black hair luscious and sleek, her dark brown eyes twinkling, her lips in burgundy lipstick that matched her dress perfectly. I wondered whether she gambled, putting everything on red at the roulette wheel just for the thrill of it, squealing in elation as she unexpectedly won.

I leafed through the pages. Her at restaurants, at beaches, at little shops. Her and her friends smiling together. Photos of apparently every meal she ate the entire trip, and possibly others' meals, too, considering how many there were.

I flipped the page.

My eyes widened.

My chest tightened.

I blinked a few times, making sure I wasn't seeing things.

There was Hannah, sunbathing on the beach, lying face-up on her towel, wearing a pair of red sunglasses, a beaming smile, and nothing else. My heart raced as I engulfed her naked body, exposed to the sun, the beach-goers, and myself. My whole body felt electrified at the sight of my roommate, my friend, completely naked. Someone I had known for years, innocently, platonically, albeit sometimes idly wondering what she looked like nude, and now suddenly her entire body lay open to my gaze. Those barely-there breasts that she so assiduously covered up at home were round and petite, yet still full and shapely, tipped with small, brown nipples that poked out proudly. Her lithe, tanned body, proof that this wasn't some once off experiment, but a habit. Her pussy, shaved completely smooth, her dark pink lips small and delicate.

I couldn't tear my eyes away, compelled to consume the image before me with my eyes, desperately committing it to memory lest it suddenly vanish and turn to dust. I couldn't believe that Hannah, innocent, good girl Hannah Kim, had stripped naked in public. Hell, she had made a photo album of it. Clearly I had some incorrect preconceptions about her.

I wondered how she had ended up in such a situation. She had only the faintest of tan lines. This clearly wasn't her first time. Had she and her friends stumbled across the beach and decided when in Rome, only to discover they loved it, converting on the spot? Had some of their cruise companions whispered about it at dinner, piquing their curiosity? Had it been part of their itinerary the entire time, a day devoted to a nude beach? The thought of Hannah knowing the entire time that she was going to strip naked and brazenly bare her body on the beach...god, it made my whole body tingle. My hand drifted down to my boxers, my cock hard and throbbing, straining to escape against the fabric. Even the gentle touch of my fingertips along my shaft made my body quiver, the sensation electric.

I turned the page and couldn't restrain my smile at the sight of more of her. Hannah stood on the shoreline, glasses on her forehead, her hair in a sporty ponytail, that same beaming smile as she looked over her shoulder at the camera, her surprisingly round ass just begging for a firm spank, her long back inviting me to caress and massage her muscles.

And on the opposite page, her in the water up to her waist, her dark, berryesque nipples visibly erect, her wet hair cascading down her shoulders like a waterfall of ink as her crescent eyes crinkled in joy. Her pure happiness was impossible to miss. I couldn't see the slightest bit of embarrassment or modesty in her face or form. She looked so purely joyful, like Eve must have in Eden, before the shame of nudity even existed.

I couldn't believe I was seeing my roommate's body so exposed like this. I felt guilt, but my raging cock urged me on, compelling me to keep looking through the pages, overriding any rational thought. I delved my hand into my boxers and pulled out my throbbing cock, my head pink and swollen and engorged, my shaft shining and thick and veined. I began stroking my cock as I stared at Hannah's naked photos, studying the way her prominent collarbones bordered her neck, the way her ribs curved atop her sleek, toned stomach, the way her breasts changed shape as she stood and reclined and ran.

My cock tingled with growing pleasure. Every stroke brought me inexorably closer to an imminent orgasm. I settled on the first photo I had seen of her and focused on her body as my hand gripped my cock tightly and pumped away. I spread my legs and leaned back, my eyes riveted to Hannah, imagining how glorious she would have appeared in person, how I could have watched her nipples stiffen in the ocean breeze, how I could have finagled my way into offering to apply her sunscreen for her, acting as casually as I could as my hands caressed her thighs and ass and breasts, how I would have held her tightly in the ocean, surreptitiously sneaking myself into her in front of everyone.

I knew I was close. I held my cock tightly with one hand and began to slowly rub against the underside of my shaft with the back of my hand, oh so gently coaxing a bigger and better climax out of my body, my breath fast and shallow, my eyes closed, my pleasure growing and growing, pressure building against the dam of my self control, just moments from that moment when it became too much and...

I moaned. My cock spasmed in my hand. My orgasmed gushed out of me, thick and ivory, onto the floor beneath. All of the fantasies and friction I had been enjoying were concentrating into one singular moment of ecstasy, bursting forth from me, overwhelming me. I felt like I might black out as cum spurting out of me, eventually slowing to a trickle and then stopping entirely.

The sudden dousing of my flames of lust left me with a clear head in need of sleep. Looking at Hannah's photos now, I felt some slight chagrin at what I had just done, and a dash of worry at how it might affect how I saw her tomorrow. But it was too late to put that particular sticky genie back in the bottle. I cleaned up my mess and returned the photo album to the shelf, got into bed, and slept peacefully.

I woke up refreshed and reinvigorated. The next day proceeded as usual, until a little after lunch, when I was playing a game on the couch. Hannah walked past, and I couldn't help but mentally remove her clothes, substituting the golden-peach curves I knew lay underneath for the modest and concealing lines of her outfit. I wondered how her breasts jiggled as she walked. They had looked perfectly perky in those photos.

She walked behind me and leaned over the couch, watching me play. After a minute or two, she asked, "Thomas, were you jacking off to me last night?"

I half-coughed, half-gasped from shock. The racecraft I had been piloting on screen smashed into a wall and exploded. "What?! That's...why would you...why would you ask that?"

She looked deep into my eyes, into my soul, it felt like, with an inquisitive look that set my cheeks aflame. "Well I woke up last night and I was going to go to the bathroom, but when I opened my door, I saw you on the couch, and it looked like you were looking at my photo album, and it really looked like you were jacking off, so I just kind of assumed..."

Fuck... "You saw that?"

"Yeppers. You looked like you were enjoying yourself so I didn't want to interrupt, so I just went back to bed and waited a bit. But that is what you were doing, isn't it? Jacking off to me?"

I swallowed deeply. Lying felt pointless. She had clearly seen enough for a conviction. I was already a pervert. Might as well come clean and try to salvage my dignity and hopefully our friendship. I took a deep breath "Yeah. I'm sorry, I just-"

"Can you show me?"

"-lost my head and I know it was a total viol-wait, what did you say?"

"Can you show me?" Hannah asked again, more slowly this time. Her eyes glanced down to my lap and back up to my face. She wrapped her hand into an O and pumped it up and down a few times. "Masturbate for me."

My heart staccatoed like someone had just dropped their marble collection. "You really want to see that?"

"Yep. I'm curious. And I was pretty flattered seeing you go at it last night." She smiled coyly. "I even did it myself after I went back to my room."

"You masturbate?" Innocent Hannah Kim, who had never missed a Sunday of church, masturbated?

"Of course I masturbate, dingus," she laughed, playfully shoving my forehead. "So, can I watch you do it?"

"Yeah, sure. Right here?" I asked, starting to unzip my shorts.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down there, big boy. Can we do it someplace I don't have to sit on? Like your bed? You're totally cleaning the couch later, by the way."

"Fair enough. I can do it on my bed." I got up and walked to my room, Hannah practically skipping behind me. My skin felt hot and prickling. I sat down on my bed.

Hannah sat on my desk chair and swiveled it to face me, learning forward to rest her chin on her bridged hands. Her eyes came to a rest upon my crotch as she smiled and nodded her head encouragingly. "Go on."

My hands trembled as I reached down to my lap and took hold of my zipper, slowly unzipping it, Hannah's smile widening along with the opening in my pants. I reached in and took hold of my cock, swallowed, and pulled it out.

"...It gets bigger, right?" she politely inquired.

"Yeah." What a time for performance anxiety... I started rubbing and squeezing my flaccid dick, trying to bring it to an erection to be proud of. "I just need to get it ready." We sat in silence for an awkward moment as I tried and failed to get myself ready, my cock suddenly bashful.

"Maybe I can help you out," Hannah suggested. She stood up and grabbed the bottom of her shirt, swiftly lifting it up and over her head, revealing a simple, black bra beneath. She reached behind her back and unhooked it, letting it fall to the floor. Her perfect, petite, round breasts suddenly appeared just feet away from me now. She giggled. "This is what did it for you last night, right?" I nodded, unable to tear my eyes away from her brown, suckable nipples and perfectly firm breasts. She slipped her pants and panties to the floor together and elegantly stepped out of them. Her pussy was as smooth as porcelain, freshly shaved, her darkened lips barely parted. She twirled, allowing me an all-too-glance of her round, firm ass before sitting back down in her chair, leaned back, legs spread, a buffet for my eyes. "Wow, that was fast," she observed.

I looked down, following her gaze. My cock now stood rigid, rock hard and thick, jutting towards the sky. "Thanks," I said meekly. I grabbed the hand lotion by my bed, squirted a dollop into my palm, and wrapped my hand around my shaft, the smooth, cool lotion embracing my hard, hot cock, coating every inch of my shaft with the soft lubrication.

"I always wondered whether that was your jack off lotion," Hannah mused.

"I use it for other things."

"Mhm, mhm. Sure. I believe you," she said, sarcasm dripping off every word. "Gotta keep those hands nice and soft. I prefer oil, myself. I oil my breasts every night before bed," she explained, rubbing her soft, small tits with both hands. "Do you think it works?"

"You're doing something right. Your breasts look incredible."

She smirked. "Thank you. You've got quite a handsome cock, yourself." She let her eyes linger on my manhood as I stroked slowly, getting into my rhythm. "Nice, big head. Thick shaft, decently long, nice, big balls. It looks very smooth and clean, too. Very nice," she judged. "Does that feel good?"

I nodded, although her praise did more for me than my hands did. One hand cradled my balls, gently rubbing them. The other gripped my cock, pumping up and down, balancing the line of pleasuring myself and denying myself to last longer. I wanted to give my private audience the best show I could.

"So this is how you masturbate? Very interesting. I've never seen a guy do it in person before. I like it." Her little compliments and comments threatened to send me over the edge, her wide, curious eyes irresistible, even more so than the bedewed slit between her legs that beckoned me, inviting me to slip inside her. Her hand reached down between her thighs and a single, slender finger began circling her clit. "You don't mind, do you?"

"Not at all."

"Good," she said, tilting her head back and opening those juicy, pink lips to release a sensual, seductive moan. I watched, mesmerized. "I just couldn't help myself anymore. That feels so good. Like finally getting a sneeze out that's been bugging you all day, you know? Are you getting close?"

Every stroke threatened to be my last. The knife's edge of pleasure I had been riding became ever narrower, and now, watching Hannah touch herself and rub her clit and caress her stiffened nipples as she watched me stroke my cock, it was too great a force to resist. My orgasm was coming, and soon. "Yeah," I panted.

"Show me."

I quickened my pace, stroking my cock fast, my grip tight, my cock throbbing, every heartbeat pulsating through my hard, thick manhood, my heart racing, my lungs short of breath, my cheeks red and burning, my teeth tingling, the physical, carnal pleasure concentrating from my loins into my cock, intensifying, transmuting into something new and glorious and wonderful.

I surrendered.

Everything exploded outwards, the body shaking, my cock spasming in my grip as my balls contracted and my essence gushed out of me, spurting out like I had shot off a cannon, my orgasm blasting through me in waves, overwhelming me. Somewhere in there, I heard myself moan, "Hannah."

Slowly, the flood of bliss subsided. I panted hard, exhausted.

"Wow." I looked up at Hannah. My jaw dropped. Ivory cum dripped down her breasts, dribbling down her stomach towards her pussy. Our eyes met. "That was incredible to watch. You enjoyed yourself, too, evidently," she observed with a giggle. She grabbed a tissue and began to clean herself up. Once she had finished with herself, she walked towards me and gently pushed me down onto the bed before taking my wilting, satiated cock into her hands and patiently cleaning me up, tenderly and cautiously wiping up my cum with the tissue, as though an errant move might set me off again and make a brand new mess.

She lifted up my cock by the head and bent it this way and that, observing it from all angles before letting it go and giving it a gentle pet. "There we go, all nice and clean, big boy. You must feel so much better after letting that all out, hm?"

"God, yes," I sighed.

"Good." She climbed onto the bed, straddling me. The heat from her hot cunt radiated onto my body. "Maybe now you can help me out."

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