Masturbation 3

“I…….I’ve heard that girls do it too?” Steve’s voice was laden with tension, and yet also hesitation too. The slight upward inflection at the end of his question seemed to say, “Oh God…please let it be true…and please let Anna be a girl who does it.” 

I remember smiling…almost to the point of laughing aloud, but that would have been crushing for him. “Yes, of course girls do it too! What….you seriously think we don’t?” Steve shrugs, but oh wow….his cheeks couldn’t be more red if I’d painted them. The bitch in me surfaces. I know he wants to ask more, but I’m damned if I’m going to help him. 

For a moment, we both just sit there in the moonlight. Summer is turning to autumn and the first tendrils of a chill are in the air. Still, we’re hiding out in the old castle, away from the breeze blowing up the valley. 

“How….(he clears his throat) erm…how do you…..do it?” I’ve already made up my mind I’m going to show him, in a while, that is. 

“It depends. It depends on how I’m feeling and what I’d like to do.” ( Actually, it doesn’t. I am completely at the mercy of Miss Brain who, when I want to masturbate, will direct proceedings even down to the clothes I will wear, or NOT wear, and the images and fantasies in my head.) 

I can see he’s hard. His cock is not just tenting his pants, it’s damn near drilling a hole through them. No wonder they call it a ‘hard on’. The silvery moonlight makes his pants look the lightest of light greys. I decide it’s time.  “Steve…if I show you, you’ve got to promise to just watch…..ok? Nothing more.” If I had asked him to rob the bank right now he would have agreed. He nods vigorously, but I also see a huge gulp as he swallows. 

Slowly, I hitch my skirt up around my waist, put both feet up on the stone bench upon which I’m sitting, and let my knees flop open. Should I talk or not? Hmmm…maybe a little. “When I’m horny, I get wet…like I am now. My clit seems to throb, and it aches to be touched….like this.” I run a finger up the crotch of my panties to my sensitive little nub. Steven doesn’t blink. His eyes are riveted on my crotch. I couldn’t define quite how, but I see disappointment in his face. Of course, he was hoping to see my naked sex. And I have every intention of showing it to him too. Boys really are unable to hide their feelings when it comes to sex. 

I hitch my bum up and slip my panties off. “Here.” I hold them out to him. “You can see there…in the crotch…how wet I am.” Again the bitch in me wags her tail. “It smells nice too…try it.” He brings my undies to his face, but oh, so hesitantly! Then he inhales and Anna pheromones flood his head. Should I add, “And it tastes nice too?” No…maybe another time, unless he works it out for himself. 

My hand travels back up my inner thigh. Time for anatomy for boys 101. “See, these are my labia, and if I hold them apart, you can see my hole…..my vagina….my…..cunt.” He tenses at the word. (You know, I think that was the moment I learned boys like it when a girl talks dirty.) and there is my clit.” 

I begin rubbing myself and as I do, I become prodigiously wet. It oozes out of me, down the crack of my bum (which, years later was helpful when I tried anal sex for the first time.) “Right now, I’m tingling all over. I want something inside me, so I usually use two fingers of my left hand.” ( Or a carrot….or a banana…or my trusty, deflowering purple candle….but I think that would be too much for him.) I carry on rubbing my clit and finger fucking myself, but my eyes have noticed a coin-sized wet patch forming on his pants. Pre-cum! He has leaked through his underpants and through his pants! Way to go, Anna! 

“I’m thinking how it would feel to have ….(I pause and stare quite unashamedly at the fearsom bulge in his pants)…something inside me.” I leave it hanging there. I also notice that he hasn’t blinked….come to that, he hasn’t even breathed for the last five minutes! “And I’m very close to cumming.” 

What triggered me? Possibly the almost tangible feeling of his eyes roaming all over my body. Possibly the sheer power that my body had over him, forcing his sole attention between my legs. Or maybe the fact I’d made him erect and wet without laying a finger on him. 

As the orgasm hit, I knew it would be savage, and I knew I’d squirt. He watched transfixed as I squirted onto the ground. My eyes closed as the orgasm took me, but just at its peak I heard, “Hunh…..hunnnh,” from Steven. I let the orgasm fade into that warm afterglow I was becoming to know so well. When I looked at him again, he looked distinctly uncomfortable….and he wasn’t staring at me anymore. Instead, he was staring at his own crotch. I followed his gaze and saw two distinct twitches. Just two. But I knew what they signified. 

He has cum in his pants.

A wave of power coursed through me…..along with a feeling of meanness. Power, because I had caused him to cum in his pants without even touching him, meanness because I should have touched him! Even though he wanted to watch me play with myself, and I was more than happy so to do, I knew enough about boys then to know that they needed relief. And I mean needed. Plus he had smelled me on my panties. 

Later on, Steven and I would use that tiny little ‘room’ in that ruined castle for a fair bit of exploration short of actually having sex. We would masturbate together, masturbate one another, and in the following summer, I would let him cum on me. I remember I particularly liked it when he slid up and down between my bum cheeks. I wonder if this was a precursor to anal sex? I do remember the tip of his cock pressing against my bum hole just a little and thinking, “Hmm…I could go further with this.” It felt…naughty….nice….nice and naughty. I wasn’t ready for full sex and neither, I think, was he. He was ridiculously easy to make cum. Oh…and I noticed something with him that I was to see in other boys. Before Steven actually ejaculated, there was a tiny little pre-ejaculation….like a little spit. I think I learned that this was how girls get pregnant even when their boyfriends have pulled out. I remember asking him about it, and he told me as did others, that it sometimes happens if he’s trying to hold off. If his concentration lapses, even for a moment, there’s this tiny little spit of semen….and as we all know, it only takes one sperm cell. 

That evening, he watched me. On another evening, I watched him. I learned a lot from watching how he liked to do himself. I have to admit though, Steven became a bit of a panty-hound. He really liked my scent….and I mean really liked it! On one occasion, he was jacking himself off with a pair of my undies against his face, and as he came, he moved them down and wrapped them round his shaft. I was so disappointed. I really hoped he’d cum into the crotch. I was to wait nearly two months before he did that for me.