Amy's Intimate Confession

By now, you've read the story that Bob wrote, "Amy's ardent cries and
whispers. Rick and I met Bob in Park City, Utah and we have continued
our relationship after returning to our homes. Rick and I live in
Denver Colorado. We were pleasantly surprised to find that Bob lives
in the small mountain community of Idaho Springs, west of Denver.

Anyway, both Bob and Rick felt that a woman's perspective would be
both entertaining and exciting. I am not a professional writer like
Bob, so you will have to excuse my grammar and syntax.

Let me say, "Amy's cries and whispers" was a pretty extreme story. I
was embarrassed when I learned it had been posted to the web because I
don't think of myself as that kind of girl. I must admit, though, that
Bob let me look it over prior to posting and I was not able to find
any exaggeration or alteration of the truth. Despite my embarrassment,
I admit I have read the story alone twice and masturbated each time.

So now it's my turn. Bob said to write about myself.

I can do that! I stand five foot six inches tall. I have dark, not
jet-black hair, which falls to my waist when it is not braided. Most
of the time I wear it in a braid that falls to the middle of my back.
I have blue-green eyes, 36 B breasts which have stood up well to the
time I have spent on earth. I am twenty-six years old and attend
graduate school at CU in Boulder Colorado. I guess my appearance and
affect could be termed feminine. I usually wear dresses and skirts and
fairly modest blouses and jackets. I don't wear heels under any
circumstances. Around home and going to the store and stuff, I favor
shorts, tank and tube tops.

When I was younger, I used to hate it when people would look at me on
the street. I especially hated it when some guy would position himself
so he could see the side of my breast when I bent over in a tank top.
As a result, I used to dress in oversized t-shirts and baggy jeans a
lot.

Surprisingly, it was not meeting Rick that changed my mind about
showing my body as a means of sexual expression. I had become a
hopeless showoff long before Rick and I met. Even more surprisingly,
it was another girl who started my down this path.

As an undergraduate, several years ago, I attended school in Greeley
Colorado at UNC. First year students are required to live on campus
and I had a dorm room that I shared with a girl by the name of Carol.

I was in my "Gothic" stage and as I have stated before, favored
voluminous T-shirts and baggy pants picked from a wardrobe of almost
all black clothing. I guess you could say that I wasn't really
interested in boys at that point in my life. I was a pretty dedicated
student.

I mean, I wasn't weird or anything. I had had boyfriends before and I
didn't hate boys or anything, but at nineteen years of age I was still
a virgin and, frankly, failed to understand what the ruckus was about
sex. Every once in a while, I would masturbate, usually in the shower,
but I didn't think about anything in particular, I just got into the
feeling and used the shower head to its best advantage.

Anyway, back to my dorm mate, Carol.

Carol and I got along well. She was shorter than I was, about five
-foot four inches, blonde, with a slender build. Carol was more of a
jock.She was also far less modest than I was.

We had been in class for about two months and settled down into the
academic routine. We would get in from class in the late afternoon,
eat, study, maybe watch TV or listen to music and then go to sleep
around ten PM.

We had turned in for bed and I had actually fallen asleep, when I woke
up out of a dead sleep. Outside, the northern Colorado fall winds
rattled the dorm window and aside from a strip of light showing from
the outside hall under the door, our room was dark and silent. We
slept across the room from each other with our beds arranged to give
us a little privacy, but we were really only five feet apart and if we
turned our head, we could see one another in bed.

I lie there, listening to the cold autumn wind rattle the building and
became aware that Carol was not asleep. At least she was not breathing
in the regular fashion of a sleeper. I heard her sigh and then another
sound, almost masked by the wind outside.

I could hear a regular, rhythmic sound, muffled by the blankets
covering her, but identifiable nevertheless; she was touching herself.

My first instinct was to try to go back to sleep, but at the same time
I was intrigued and I might as well admit it, very aroused.

As a matter of fact, I had never become so aroused, so fast in my
entire life. My breathing had deepened, my skin tingled, my nipples
were so erect that it almost hurt when the fabric of my nightshirt
moved against them.

I lay there without moving listening to Carol masturbate herself while
my own excitement deepened and grew more intense.

She was taking her time, slowing down almost to a crawl and then
speeding up with reckless abandon. I could hear her catch her breath,
whimper as her hand would slow and then speed up again. She would
bring herself to the brink and then stop while her ragged breathing
would slow and become regular and then she would start rubbing her
cunt again.

In all my life I had never been attracted to another girl and to be
honest, it wasn't Carol or the idea of a girl that was making me so
hot. It was the fact of her excitement, her raw sexuality and utter
abandon that was making my clit stand up so hard that I felt I was
going to crawl out of my skin if she didn't stop pretty soon. It was
like her horniness was catching, if you can understand what I'm
talking about.

She did not stop, however. She continued for the better part of an
hour, teasing herself to a near climax, stopping, regaining her
composure and then starting all over again.

At some point in time, I stole a glance out of the corner of my eye at
her as she masturbated. Her knees were up under the covers and I could
see the other hand moving under the sheet that still covered her
breasts teasing a nipple or cupping a breast.

I had, almost unconsciously been caressing my own breasts for several
minutes. Actually I had been cupping lightly and squeezing one and
then the other. I did not dare to actually touch my nipples because
they were so erect and sensitive that I was afraid that I would give
myself away.

At the same time I was squeezing my legs together, feeling the slight
pressure that this caused send cascades of sensation from my stiff
little clit rippling outward through my body. I could feel liquid
trickle from my aroused and aching mound wetting my inner thighs.

And still Carol kept touching herself. As time passed, she became more
careless of my proximity, whimpering and whispering under her breath.
She was not just rubbing her clit. I could hear her insert a finger
inside of herself and the wet sounds this made as she moved it back
and forth in the dark silence of the night.

How can I explain the agony of arousal and excitement I was
experiencing? The little hairs on my arms were standing up as if
electrified. As I squeezed my legs together, the smooth skin
contacting itself sent such a sensation, as I had never experienced in
my life. My breasts, which I had been cupping gently for some time,
literally ached with excitement. They felt swollen, somehow larger
than normal and each time I lightly squeezed them, I felt more ardent
and laid bare then I ever had before.

As I listened, I began to do something I had never before tried. I
began to imagine myself doing something that would have the same
effect on Carol that her unknowing self-love was having on me.

In my minds eye, I imagined Carol sitting next to my bed watching as I
teased my own cunt to orgasm, unable or unwilling through modesty or
shame to satisfy her own excitement as she watched helplessly.

I imagined her flushed cheeks, her hard nipples showing through her
nightshirt and her smooth legs endlessly crossing and uncrossing as
she sat and watched me caught in the same agony of excitement and
shame that still prevented me from simply joining her in mutual play.

This line of thought was not at all helpful. If I had been aroused
before, my excitement was now tenfold. The images that were now
flooding my fevered imagination became even more vivid and unsettling.

I imagined Carol and I both masturbating in front of a group of naked
boys who were all stroking hard cocks as they watched us. I imagined
first one and then another squirting gobs of white come into the air.
I imagined Carol going into the group and sliding her slippery cunt
onto one of the rigid cocks while the other boys and I watched her
fucking the lucky guy while we all continued masturbating and
watching.

I pictured myself sitting between two guys, rubbing my cunt while they
stroked their cocks, lost in watching Carol as she slid up and down on
a hard dick. I imagined one of the guys sitting next to me getting up
and approaching Carol while she slid her slick and dripping cunt up
and down, up and down.

In my minds eye, I saw Carol open her mouth and let him slide his
erection into her mouth and before he could even get it past her lips
begin to throb and squirt streams of hot cream into her mouth.

I imagined getting up and kneeling before the remaining guy,
wordlessly offering my mouth to relieve his pent up lust, all the
while teasing my rigid clit, shamelessly ministering to my own
excitement, right there in front of him.

I could literally feel the knob of his engorged cock as I slipped my
moist and warm mouth over its aching thickness. I could smell his
excitement and taste the salt on his skin as I knelt in willing
service to his lust.

All this time I had been lying motionless in bed except for lightly
cupping and touching my swollen and tingling breasts. I had almost
lost track of what was going on in the bed across the room.

Part of the reason I had lost track was because the images filling my
mind were a total revelation to me. I had never before experienced
such vivid and all encompassing mental pictures. The other part of the
reason was that my own feelings of arousal were so intense that I no
longer was capable of stopping these thoughts any more than I was able
to slow the sensations sweeping my body.

I was brought back to the present by the sound of Carol having her
orgasm.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her shudder under the covers and
gasp as the sound of her fingers rubbing her wet and slippery cunt
intensified. I could hear her mutter something under her breath, a
rapid intake of breath, a stifled sob and then as the slippery sounds
continued, she released the breath she had taken and shook so hard, I
heard the springs squeaking. There was a pause and she rubbed herself
rapidly again, another almost inaudible sob and the bed shook again,
not as intensely this time. For a few moments the silence of the room
blasted into my ears in a soundless explosion of nothingness and then
she relaxed, lowered her legs and lay back down into her bed. Outside,
the wind still whistled around the building as Carol's fulfillment and
relaxation emanated from her side of the room on soundless waves of
mental pleasure.

As I listened to Carol subside, I was more than ever aware of my own
high degree of arousal and excitement. I lie in the dark feeling my
heart pounding and my body tingle and throb. I felt every heartbeat
cause my nipples and clitoris to swell and throb as my overheated
blood reached them.

For a few moments, I agonized, realizing that I would not have the
will power to wait until Carol went back to sleep to deal with my
extreme arousal. At the same time, I also realized that even as
excited as I was, I would be to embarrassed just to start playing with
my slippery cunt while she remained awake in the bed across the room.

As the seconds began to stretch into eternity and I started to wonder
if someone could die from extreme horniness, Carol solved the problem
for me.

I heard her sheets rustle and saw her swing her legs to the floor. She
got out of bed and walked to the bathroom door, opened it and switched
on the light. For a brief second, I saw her slight figure silhouetted
by the light from the bathroom. She was still wearing the boxers and
t--shirt she had gone to bed in. She stepped inside and shut the door,
leaving me in darkness again. I heard the water start up from the
shower and realized that the blessed relief that I sought was at hand.

I reached down and slipped my panties down my legs and let them slip
off my feet at the bottom of the bed. I didn't bother slipping my
night-shirt off, I continued caressing my breasts, now lightly
pinching the rigid nipples as I reached down into my slippery and
swollen cunt to touch my hard clitoris.

An electric shock seemed to course through my tormented body running
from my clit to the nipple I was touching through the hand that was
touching it and around to my clit again.

I immediately began to masturbate with urgent need. The images that I
had pushed from my consciousness when Carol started her orgasm came
flooding back and I was swept away on a rising tide of pure sexual
pictures and situations.

I imagined Carol and I both standing in front of each other, naked and
masturbating with total abandon. I imagined standing in front of a
group of boys, completely dressed, wearing a short skirt that I would
raise so they could look at my cunt while they brought themselves off.
I would be standing in front of them smiling sweetly, just pulling my
skirt up high enough over my long legs to give them a glimpse of my
secret spot while their sperm squirted from their aching dicks. Maybe,
if I was feeling generous, I would grasp one of their hard, slippery
dicks and help them stroke it until it thickened in my hand and then
squirted jets of cream in the air.

I pictured Carol, sitting and watching as one of the guys slipped his
hardness into my lust slick cunt and started fucking me right there in
front of her. Although a boy had not yet penetrated me, my imagination
was more than up to the task. I could almost feel his engorged
hardness stretching the sides of my slick and yearning cunt and
ultimately, filling me with his rigid, throbbing cock.

I imagined her masturbating helplessly as she watched him slide his
dick in and out of my sopping pussy, until, at last, I felt him
stiffen within me and then throb over and over again as he filled me
to overflowing with his hot juice.

I remembered situations that did not seem particularly fraught with
possibilities in the past that now fired my lust and brought me to
further highs as I rubbed my swollen and dripping sex in the silence
of my dorm room.

I remembered being looked at. The feeling as a boy's eyes swept across
my breasts or looked at my crossed legs as I sat primly in a waiting
room. I imagined these same boys at home, in a bed like me stroking
their dicks, remembering my legs or breasts, wanting to touch me,
aching to touch me, imagining me dancing naked in front of them.

And now, here I was imagining myself dancing naked before these same
guys as they rubbed their aching cocks, their eyes glued to my soft
and slightly bouncing breasts. Leaning over to brush the tip of a
straining cock with my soft cheek or kiss the tip with warm lips.
Joining my small soft hand over his large stroking hand, feeling his
cock swell and throb under my touch spilling warm cream over our
joined hands.

I was so lost in my personal lust, I must not have heard Carol shut
the water in the shower off. I was nearing the peak of my passion when
the door opened and Carol stood in the light with a towel wrapped
around her.

I was faced with a terrible choice. Act like she had only caught me
turning over in bed and wait until she had dressed for bed again and
fallen off to sleep before starting again or go ahead and cream right
then.

My finger rested on my erect and throbbing clit and in the microsecond
I hesitated to think, my body decided for me. My finger made three
more little circles around my stiff clitoris, one, two and then,
three. I went over the edge.

I can't remember if I whispered, "Oh no!" as I slid into the most
intense orgasm of my life, or if the words just flashed across my
mind. Shame and embarrassment mixed with my excitement as I realized
that Carol was going to see me come no matter what I wanted to do or
felt about her witnessing such a private and intimate moment.

I did my best to carry on like I had turned over in bed and rolled
over onto my side during sleep. I wound up facing Carol as my orgasm
washed over me. I was unable to stifle a gasp and a sob as the waves
of pleasure swept over my shuddering body. My hand, trapped between my
legs could feel my pussy creaming with no consideration for the fact
that my roommate stood in the door looking on as I came shamelessly
before her.

The intensity of my orgasm caused me inadvertently to flex my legs
together. This slight friction between my hand, which was sandwiched
between my legs and my swollen clitoris sent another cascade of orgasm
washing over my body before the first had even subsided.

I lie there helplessly feeling my pussy pour cream over my trapped
hand yet again as I shuddered and came like a slut, unable to stop or
even slow the waves of pleasure as they mixed with shame, fear and
embarrassment which were flushing my cheeks.

I was still doing it when Carol walked across the room and knelt
beside the bed and asked me, "Amy, are you all right?"

I managed to find my voice as the blood rushed to my cheeks, flushing
them bright red, "Yes", I choked, "I'm OK". My mind scrabbled madly
for something to say that seemed to make sense, "I think I was having
a bad dream".

Real concern was etched on her face as she asked, Do you want to talk
about it?"

As she knelt beside the bed, I could see the water from the shower
beading on her smooth and tanned shoulders and her towel had drooped a
bit revealing the shadow between her modest cleavage. Her shower wet
hair dripped on the floor as I replied, "It was so vivid".

"You poor thing", she cried, dropping the towel she encircled me with
her arms as I felt my treacherous pussy swell and throb once more
pumping warm cream over my slick and slippery hand still trapped
between my legs.

"I've had bad dreams too" she whispered, her breath warm in my ear.
"Sometimes the only thing that helps is for someone to hold you".

The embrace lasted only a moment and then she regained her feet,
grabbed the towel, wrapped it around her and went back in the bathroom
to dress.

I took the opportunity to rearrange myself, wipe my wet hand on the
sheet and find my panties which were wadded up at the end of the bed
and slip them back on as unobtrusively as possible.

She shut off the bathroom light, came back into the room and climbed
into her bed.

"Can you remember what the dream was about?" she asked, her voice
floating in the darkness like a disembodied ghost.

"You were in it", I replied.

Soon the only sound in the room was her regular breathing and the wind
outside.

Now, a nice girl would have spent the rest of the night in an agony of
shame and embarrassment and to a degree that is what I did. Listening
to Carol's regular breathing, I couldn't believe I had acted in such a
manner. When I stopped to think about exactly how I had acted, I
became excited again and ultimately spent the balance of the night
masturbating.