I leaned forward and took him in my own hand. He came for me then, his seed seeping over my fist, and I rubbed it back over him until he stopped me with a gasp.

He promised he would, so it was only fair.

When the chores were done and the kids were asleep, I went to bed. Tired and annoyed from the day, relieved to have a few moments to myself, I lay on my back, slowly lifted my nightgown from my knees to my waist, slipped both hands down the front of my favourite panties, and played with myself.

I always liked to watch him, and I closed my eyes and saw him there, his hard cock in his hand. The first time I'd seen him he was still in high school, and he could come quick as a wink, his firm hand rocketing up and down his shaft as he spurted all over the bed. Or the sand. Or the tissues. Or me.

For a while that was all I allowed. He wasn't touching me, and neither was I, at least not with company. I went home and stroked myself alone, in the dark, like I was just now.

After a while, though, I stopped being so shy, and it was a matter of trust between us that this was something neither of us would show anyone else, but that we could do together. I'd watch him slide over the strange skin of his cock, and I'd find the courage to touch my dampness. I'd see his eyes on me. It would be embarrassing, and exciting as well. In the end, I liked him to come first, so that I could finish with his eyes glued to my quickly moving hand, and I could orgasm staring at his lovely face.

Mostly, by the time I'd finished he was hard again, his young cock ready for another round. It was a big step the first time I leaned forward and took him in my own hand. He came for me then, his seed seeping over my fist, and I rubbed it back over him until he stopped me with a gasp.

Eventually, of course, we moved beyond that. I found better places for his cock than in his hand, or in mine. I climbed on him and took him inside me with a force the surprised both of us. That first time he barely lasted long enough for it to count, but then I sat there and showed him how slippery his semen was for my fingers to finish what we'd started.

Though we began to fuck on a regular basis, and both loved the intimacy and heat of intercourse, we never turned our backs on what was the first love for both of us.

I used to tell him about how I'd run home to masturbate after seeing him, and how I'd done it in the car not long after we first went out. I'd parked my father's Honda in a dark spot on the road, made sure the lights were out, hiked up my dress and gone for it, fingers flying until I shook with my climax. I drove home then, my panties soaked, went to bed and did it again.

He confessed to being a chronic wanker long before we met. He especially liked to come in his bed, spraying the sheets before falling asleep. He was stunned that his mother never said anything, as it must have been obvious. He wasn't anywhere near worried enough to stop though. He used to jerk off before a date sometimes too. He'd choose some clothes, climb in the shower, and before washing himself and making his body smell nice for me, he'd take his cock in his wet hand, and spray all over the shower wall. He said he came more quickly getting ready for a date with me than any other time.

As our degree of comfort with each other lifted, we'd engineer situations where one of us could watch the other. He'd caught me pressed hard against the washer in the basement, the corner of the machine vibrating against me, through my jeans. It wasn't actually working all that well until he walked in, but then I got right into it, spreading my legs around the jutting metal, grinding hard against it, and knowing how hard he was getting watching me. I came before he touched me, and then again after he threw me to the floor and filled me.

I walked in on him in bed one day. He had the sheet draped over himself, but I knew what he was doing. Every time I turned away he'd take another couple of strokes, until I turned to him, a wad of tissues in one hand and my drenched pussy in the other. He managed to come in both.

And now here I was, remembering, and stroking. His cock. My soaking, drenching aching need. The time he got himself off while I was driving the car beside him. His hardness inside me. The time he accidentally came in his pants with a former girlfriend, and how he never told her, but told me. The sight of the first burst of come. The sound of his groaning when I got him off for the third time in one night. The look in his eyes when he watched me climax, my fingers flicking quickly over my clit, knees parted, my most private parts on display just for him. The slight bend in his hardness. The feel of my fingers clenched around his solid erection as the leftovers dribbled down over my hand. The aching shock of coming with him inside me...

That's when the phone rang. I was tempted to leave it of course, but I couldn't do that. Bold beyond reason I left one finger inside myself, and picked up the receiver with the other.

"Hello?"

"Well?"

"Oh, God, I'm glad it's you. Typical though."

"Huh?"

"Your timing."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Just ever so slightly too soon."

"Oh. I thought you might have forgotten, dear."

"Hardly."

"Or been too tired."

"Yeah, that one's possible."

"So, uh..."

"What am I doing? That what you want to know, Peter?"

"Uh huh."

"I'm in bed."

"I figured that."

"And I have one hand on the phone..."

"Oh. Pray tell, what is the other doing?"

"It's inside me, Peter. It's slipping back and forth over my clit."

"How far away were you?"

"Were?"

"When the phone rang, Emily. How far?"

"Not very, you bastard!"

"You're still stroking now, right?"

"Uh huh."

"What were you thinking about?"

"You. Your cock. The things you did."

"Anything specific?"

"Yeah. When you... You were stroking your hard-on. Right up close. You leaned over towards me, and while you watched me..."

"Watched you what? I'm stroking it now, too. I can just see you with your black panties over your hand."

"Watched me playing, Pete. You came then, your fingers pulsed over the end of your cock, and you sprayed. You were groaning, and your semen shot out across the bed and made a trail. All the way from your throbbing cock to my clit. You... Oh God... You got me. You sprayed on my hand. How did you know they are black?"

"I was just hoping. The satin ones? What hand, Em? I wish I could now."

"You know. The one on my clit. That stuff slid down from my finger, and I used it to slip my finger faster over myself. Yeah. Yeah, satin."

"I knew it. I'm going to come now, too. All over these hotel sheets."

"And I came. It... was... Oh, fuck... Go on then. It was... almost as good... as this time! Oh, Christ!"

"Yeah... now?"

"Now. Now!"

"Oh, fuck! Em, I think I made a mess."

"I hope so, Peter."

"You are the worst influence."

"No I'm not. You are, Peter. You left me the message. You told me to do it. You made me... Thanks."

"I'll take the blame. Listen, I better get some sleep."

"Not me. I'm wide awake. I might... do it again."

"Let me know."

"Afterwards?"

"Tomorrow."

"Okay."

"Just tell me."

"Of course, Peter. Just you."

"Not your husband."

"No."

Oct 2008
very very good! thank you.

Jun 2008
Though I prefer to either watch or perform directly, or communicate by IM, this wasn't bad for a phone wank.

Apr 2008
loved it.....

Mar 2008
Nicely done

Mar 2008
Neat surprise ending. I would never have thought of that conclusion. An appetizer before bed. Keep writing - it is appreciated.

Mar 2008
Hmm. I don't have too many great masturbation stories, though I did do it while driving a few times on long, lonely trips through the mountains.

Feb 2008
I like this one. There's something about secret sex that always makes me so hard and ready. This is a very unusual story that is very good. Please write more.

Feb 2008
Another fine tale, gentle.

Feb 2008
Gentle, I'm just going to do the shopping, after this, I hope that I remember everything. Loved it.

Feb 2008
surprise ending! i thought all along it was h***** good one, friend! :)

Feb 2008
very interesting surprise ending

Feb 2008
If they are that hot for each other than why arn't they together. If she is married to someone else she should have her cheating ass kicked. Don't like married sluts.

Feb 2008
Better than nothing. I oft recall watching others to get off. or to get moving to getting myself off.

Feb 2008
A GREAT, SIMPLE & EROTIC PIECE OF WORK. ENJOYED IT......