Plain Jane

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Masturbation for the Plain.
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The time had come for a roommate. Whether it the cost of rent, food and the other bills that created this panic or maybe the cost of being alone in the house for too long past due, this was a problem only clearing the spare room could fix. Excitement, but agitation ruled the day-- masturbation on the couch was definitely on a permanent hiatus. Or maybe not, if I am careful enough. Quiet enough. A well planned session perhaps. The roommate is necessary to consider too; a poor sleeper and the whole gig is off. But why these thoughts at a time like this? What do you say to the prospective renter...do you sleep soundly or wake easily? Oh, you know if I decide to twist one off, I wouldn't want to wake you. No, that was madness. Get a grip and deal with the realities of single yet rent sharing situation.

A motley crew of drifters, strangers, and other weird tourists wandered through the obligatory house tour before Jane arrived. Jane was not her name but she had to be Jane to me. Jane was...well, plain. Plain Jane. Not absurdly beautiful or ugly. Not voluptuous or boyish. A Real Woman. Plain or not, I still watched her breasts sway back and forth, to and fro as she took the tour. I eyed her pants, watching her butt cheeks gently rise and fall as she looked over the spare room. Her walk...her walk was the thing: That confident stride, a natural motion that said "Here I am and this is the way my body moves. No offense but deal with it." As though she were naked in her house alone on a liberation kick. This well may have been the case in the not to recent past. Jane told me that she used to live alone but also found the cost unbearable. I felt this would work out. Plain Jane and Plain Shane. Maybe not even our real names but it should have been. A conspiracy against the beautiful and perfect. A shining moment of unity where the Plain rise to the dizzying heights of Normalcy with the Perfects. The beautiful. The Not-So-Plain.

Jane moved in and quickly made herself at home. Literally. I mean some people cordon themselves off to their rooms, understanding that the previous resident has already marked his territory. They don't leave their magazines lying around, introduce strange cuisines to the refrigerator or surgically attach the remote to their right hand. And they sure as hell don't lie around in a short nightie and panties during their free time. Still, I was too amazed to comment, too aroused to complain. Mi couch es tu couch, Jane.

But she was completely above board though. No sneaky pinches of the nipples or rubbing of the knees. Real PG-13. There are no clothes like invisible clothes. Gratefully, she didn't mine my presence in this state but this first time was almost too much. It came on like a flash, a signal that I recognized but not in my ordinary "hanging out with girls" proper existence. This frequency, sent by my brain to my now stiffening receiver rod, was increasing in intensity as I considered Jane's near nudity. I sat in her Lazyboy about as causally as a senior with a bad bladder betrayed by my increasingly hardening cock. Et tu, penis? But enough of this after lunch science class moment. It would show soon... something must be done.

Casually she asked if I wanted to watch anything. I choked as I tried to control my surprised laughter. Besides studying your naked, spread eagle body on my couch...well, what's on Fox? I wanted to devour that possible nymph lying on the couch in total comfort. I was starting to hallucinate her hand slipping below the thin elastic band in those Plain white cotton panties when I heard a voice say "No, that's ok. Watch whatever you want. I have to go to bed soon." 30 seconds or my cock is going to explode in my sweats. Or I am going to explode in sweat, leaving nothing but my rock hard cock, spinning like some perverse top. Whichever comes/cums first.

Staggering, limping. Must reach the safety of the room and relieve this terrible, wonderful burden. My throbbing penis is screaming for caressing. Fondling. Pleasure and release. Gratify this throbbing, urgent hardness. There is no choice. No option for the Horny. Even the Plain must be human. Pull and release. I fell on the bed and slipped off my sweat pants and musty junk bra to reveal its hard heat to the cool evening air. Confusion and horniness overwhelming all senses; I wanted to feel the intensity of orgasm but still prolong the pleasure. Stroking and teasing my way to oblivion. All things in life should be as amazing as stroking my grateful pleasure pole. Five minutes pass. Ten. Twenty. Thiarrrgh!......Blindness. The white light. Nothing. Everything. The Moment of Truth spurting forth in white gobs. Gratification. Sexual feelings are also lost in the stream of ejaculate. Jane is temporarily forgotten as refractory starts. Shame and dejection. Must clean up my mess. Must feel clean again but can't. Not yet. It is too soon after to feel clean.

Not long after clean up, a knock penetrates the empty room. The timing is perfect; it is as though she waited until I was done, cleaned and secure before intruding. Plain Jane is Perfect Jane. Not in the shallow physical beauty monster way. In the Real Way. Enter my room. Come inside and find me. Take me. Love me. "Yes?" Jane is asking me if she can borrow the car tomorrow. Hers is in the shop and she needs to leave early. So early that she couldn't wait until morning. Request granted but what of the timing? Had she heard? Did she know? Could she possibly know? The thought that she was more like me than not refused to occur; blocked by the baggage of a thousand sexless women. No, she could not have heard. She would not think such things. Naw. I felt so foolish. I was alone with my fantasy again.

But only until I heard the low moans and the sound of limbs flailing on my way to the bathroom. Plain Jane. Human Jane. Human Jane who likes to rub herself off. Or using a dildo. Definitely not a vibrator. Unless it were under the covers, muffling the sound. No, there were no covers. I couldn't see it but I knew it. No, Jane would not cover herself. That would be admitting shame. And Jane had no Shame. Shameless Jane. It was then that I loved Jane. Needed her and understood her. We would be united in Plainness and the utter human need to get off. The next Sexual revolution. The Plain Revolution.

I waited and listened. It was wrong but refractory was over. Horniness crept back through my very pores and the Need once more grabbed the wheel. Wrong for so many reasons yet right for the strongest. The lead wolf, fighting off the pretenders to the throne. Walk away. Please God let me walk away. This would not be difficult to explain to the authorities I figured. Really officer, I wanted to walk away, I did. But it was a cock thing. You understand, right? No, I would go to Perverts prison for this. Definitely to take the short trip down the long hall. Unlike this long trip down a short hall. Where is my damned room? I was moving but in the wrong direction. The moth to the flame. My hand to my cock. No, no, no! Yes...hardness at hand and pleasure washed over me again. Quiet, quiet, quiet.

The noise from inside is growing in intensity. Her thoughts screamed out of the speakers in her mind, creating a new scene of shape and form. Lying on her bed gratifying her pleasure center...wet, glistening and absorbed into the private act. She was so turned on from spying on me that relief had to come. Thoughts climbing the erotic ladder. Had to Come. Had to Cum...soon. Sooner and higher. The balloon would burst and what would he think of me then? I can't be quiet...must cum and cum hard. Stuttering and losing all control, sense. Tension and release. And then it was time. A muffled cry. A final call for pleasure and gratification. Oblivion. Jane was cumming up a storm and flopping around like a fish on dry land. Flailing Jane. Still she held back. I could just tell she held back, just a little. Afraid of giving too much and totally giving in to the feeling. Afraid of what Plain Shane would think of her, as she herself the pleasure she desperately desired. Wanted. Needed. Demanded.

I was too close to run but I was too ashamed to cum. This was too intimate, too risky. Must stagger to the bathroom. Must make it before it is too late. But it may already be too late. I was able to escape to the sanctuary of the bathroom sink but how long could I maintain? How long before my Truth knocks on her door like an unwelcome white wash? Or she fails in the ruse. Can't tickle that clit and be quiet enough everytime. What happens when she goes over the edge and I find her on my door, panting and convulsing? This situation will require care and handling. After clean-up of course.

Morning came knocking unusually loud that morning. I held off on my usual morning "cockercise" given the extensive workout the night before. Good to her word, Jane was gone before I got out of bed. An exciting morning of coffee, donuts, and maybe even work awaited me. Or maybe not. You see, I simply had to know. I needed it. Like a drug. The Fix. You see officer, I needed to invade her privacy and sneak into her lair under the cover of borrowing my car. Yep, another cock thing, how'd you guess officer? No, I would not do this thing. I will take a long cold shower, maybe pull one off and leave it at that. In theory. The shower was cold, the orgasm weak, and I still needed to know. Now.

Her room opened up to plush furniture and lacy fabric. She like soft, nice things but kept her space out of view from the outside world with partially closed dark curtains. Like I would. However this morning, Plain Jane had Plain Porn all over the room. Books, magazines, and the occasional DVD. Women's erotica. Men's erotica. Sexual promise on every shelf. I wondered somewhat clinically if she worked in the sex industry. Yeah that's it: Dehumanize her so that the intrusion can be justified. No, I would not disrespect her further. Just because she was horny sometimes and she knew what she liked. There was no distance too far to reach that conclusion. Those naughty panties were now bunched up by her bed, too lazy for the hamper. Enough control not to give into my depravity of sniffing the object in question. No, I was not a panty sniffing pervert. Maybe I would try on her stockings but that was the limit. Stretching on her bed, I looked up at my mirror image. Funny, I don't remember mounting a mirror on this ceiling.

But what of the toys and hidden bonuses that lay waiting to be found? They would not be in plain view but not far enough that one couldn't reach it from the bed. Shelf by the nightstand: Check. Sure enough, a harmless, sexless collection of personal items and knick knacks. Wait...what is that box off to the side? A velvety box that was shaped like a little coffin. Maybe it was a vampire vibrator that could not be exposed to light. I would never be able to explain why her favorite toy was turned to dust. Better close the curtains more for the unveiling.

I carefully opened the box, half expecting something to fly out. The inside also looked like a little coffin but the contents were not supernatural. A dildo of specific size and shape came into view. I would not say it was abnormally large but it was clear that it was a perfect fit into the box. Definitely a custom job. This was really too much. The compulsion to masturbate on her bed was overwhelming but limits had to be maintained. Back goes the dildo. Back goes the box. Back I go to the bathroom for relief. It was going to be hard to complete this time. My penis looked up at me as if to say "You have got to be fucking kidding me! Take a rest horny boy!" The dong was right. Save myself for later. Take a nap, read a book. Write a letter to my congressman. Anything to keep my mind off that damn box.

Jane came home at a Plain Time and settled in for the night. It was Friday night, which is a big night for the Perfect Beautiful, but rarely for Plain Shanes and Plain Janes. Who's getting kicked off the island, indeed. Prior to settling down for my night of televised death, I offered Jane a portion of my pizza. A guilty payoff for invading her privacy I thought cynically. No, I offered her food because...well, it seemed the decent thing to do. I'll even warm it up while she changes. I stayed content with my own generosity for the first 129 seconds. Then it hit me over the head like our rarely used skillet: The Fucking Curtains! I had closed them totally and they were clearly half open when she left them. Oh well. I might as well enjoy freedom while it lasted. I didn't have any use for my anal virginity anyway.

Jane came back into the room dressed in her now typical "I'm still living alone at home look." She was smiling but said nothing as she ate my pizza. She Knew! She knew and yet said nothing. We were entering new territory yet still keeping appearances I see. I looked for a remote place on the couch to disappear into. Failure. Regret. Rapidly disappearing pizza. There is no escape for the wicked. No sanctuary for the perverse. I would have to face the music and confess my sins. Fear was engulfing me yet I felt strangely aroused. The terror of confession was making my cock twitch. Just what I need: Frankenstein's Fucking Monster coming to life, rising up out of my pants as I tried to explain why I was snooping around her porno nest.

She sat across from me and exhaled heavily. It was a good meal and she was letting it all hang out I thought. No sign of needing to talk to me. This is good...maybe my offense was so great she didn't know how to bring it up. Or maybe I am out of my mind with paranoia and she didn't have a clue about my situation. Either way, she asked causally what was on. She's letting me off! But why? She had me and she is letting me go. And she knows it. Deep down she knows it and will make me pay in this fashion. I would not doubt if she understood that the gauntlets were off and soon my own room would be another casualty of our Horny Crusade. Fuck it...I'll even leave my best magazines out for her. Maybe we can swap and compare stories. Sure, this could work out just fine.

Smoothed over with mindless television, we drifted our separate spaced out ways. Jane noticed my position and commented that I looked a little tense. Had I had a hard day? Did members of my family die? Was I losing my Fucking mind? It was obvious that she wanted to help me if she could so I let her in a little bit. I told her about the insomnia. The dance of deadlines threatening to evict me. The cancer sticks. The Life. She came over to the couch and offered to massage my shoulders. I let her. Plain Jane, Nurse Jane. She told me that all people really need in this world was love and acceptance. That and a little head. There was a twinkle in her eye and a slight smile on her face when I turned around.

I loved her and I wanted to kiss her then. But I let the moment pass. I was still afraid, still ashamed. I just back around and leaned back against her, laying on her. I expected her to stop me but she didn't. She looked away while gently stroking my hair. It was impossible to believe but somehow she simply knew I just needed to be held. Loved. I had had enough of cliff diving into the blackness of would she or wouldn't she love me. Would she or wouldn't she accept me. The Perfect Beautiful do not understand this. They are so wanted and admired that the thought that someone might be repulsed by their appearance is impossible. Unthinkable. But Plain Jane knew better. She knew I was human and had needs. I prayed that I would realize the same of her before it was too late.

Darkness now. How had we been in this position her and I? A tangle of limbs and breathing. Jane was asleep and I had unceremoniously used one of her T-shirted yet un-bra'd breasts as a pillow after passing out. I thought to wipe the drool from my impromptu pillow but did not want to wake her. But maybe if I was very careful... I took the edge of my shirt and softly rubbed the now damp spot. Jane gave a little moan and shifted; this might not work. The buds of her nipples hardened and poked through the fabric making an unmistakable impression. I stopped wiping and thought to escape but her legs were crossed around the ankles over my own. Trapped between fiery thighs and hard nipples. Maybe I died and I am in heaven after all.

I marveled at her smooth and oh so silky legs shining in the moonlight. I ran a finger down the side of one and then the other...each reacting and craving the touch. It was as if the flesh was magnetized to my fingers, springing forth for touch and comfort. More moaning and shifting. Toes curling ever so slightly. I wondered what it would be like to give her a foot massage. Her skin was hot to the touch from arousal and even her feet would demand touch. I would move my fingers between each toe and gently massage the fleshy digit and space between. She would lose it fast, grunting and moaning while rubbing her aching hard nipples in earnest. Speaking of hard, my cock was the hardest I had ever felt. I thought it would explode on its own, without even the slightest caress. When it didn't, I was drawn back to her nipples again. Staring at the water in the oasis.

But our peace would be broken. I thought she looked peaceful sleeping and looked up to catch another glimpse of this scene. However, I had not noticed that in the middle of my Nipplefest, she had awoken and was fascinated by the sudden interest I had taking in her naked body. Still, now is not the time to stop caressing her legs. I had been caught and I had to pay the piper. We had this moment where I was looking at her looking at me then we both looked at her nipples and then back at each other. I thought of something to say or do that could possibly begin to explain the absurdity of this moment. From my head to her ears, Jane threw back her head and laughed. We both laughed.

Our laughing slowed down and she gave me a big hug. But what next? Jane got up and shoved a hand to my chest. Apparently, she wanted me to lie down. I started to speak but her finger quickly brushed my lips. Slowly shaking her head...maybe we were past words. A flash of fabric later and she is fully nude and straddling my body. After kissing, caressing, and taking off my shirt in one twisted motion, Jane took my right hand and placed it on her nearest breast. It was warm, sweaty and firm. Young Jane. Kneading her nipples and massaging both now, began to kiss and stroke her body when her hand came back to my chest. She gently pushed me down and I settled back into the couch. She was definitely in control here.

Jane's smiling face lowered to the front of my sweatpants, which were pulled down. My aching phallus had broken out of its cage and sought the touch of its new mistress. Jane licked and kissed my balls as she ran one hand over my dong in a slow jerking motion. She was doing nothing but containing the beast; she would eventually have to either let him go or take him to paradise. Gratefully she opted for the latter, shoving my whole cock in her mouth in an almost professional display. But she was slow and careful once inside. This was a woman who takes her time and does it right. The intensity made it like a minor electrocution where I was being given a regular dosage of pleasure. It will not be long before I either blow or fry.

Jane felt me tense up and stopped playing with me. She looked at me with some gravity and I gave her a slight nod. With that, Jane eased herself in and started to Fuck me. Cowgirl Jane. She was moaning and panting while screwing up her face with an expression that may have been pain or pleasure. She grabbed one hand and pulled it downtown in a cry for more stimulation. I stroked the outer lips and started to rub around her exposed clit. Starting outside and working my way in, I took one finger and ran it over the sensitive member with the slightest of touch and intensity. Slowly increasing my tempo, she started to pant and moan loudly now. This was the real Jane approaching takeoff, not that muted form in the bed last night. Right over the edge she went as violent little death throes caused her body to reverberate as the rapture of her convulsions began. This was the Real Orgasm from Real Jane and there sure wasn't anything Plain about it.

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