Touching You, Touching Me

I’ve often mentioned that one of my favorite views is looking up at him from below, especially when he has his cock in his hand and he’s pumping it like in contains the last drops of drinkable water on Earth. I find myself in this position quite often at the end of a Clicker Training session, clicker still in one of his hands, his cock in the other, and me on my back on the floor, my own hand circling my clit, dipping inside of me, spreading my wetness across my lips. Sometimes, he will wait for me to come first, and sometimes he just can’t hold back. His come, like a shooting star across the night sky, trails a white splash across my field of vision before landing on my chest and face in a spatter of splats and tiny thuds. When I do come, his eyes watch me intently, taking in every sound, every funny facial expression. We always smile at each other when we are done.

Sometimes at night, his waking cock presses against me, searching for a warm wet place to push into. Half asleep, I reach back and grab it, creating a fuck tunnel with my hand right at the entrance to my pussy, and I slowly gyrate my hips, my hand moving with them as I feel his cock stiffen in my palm. His own hand finds my slit, pressing into its sleepy folds, awakening my desire as he softly rubs my clit with his fingertips. We mime the act of fucking for a few moments, our hands doing the all work, before he rolls on top of me and ditches my hand pussy for the real thing.

In the mornings, our arms create an ‘X’ as we lie on our backs and fondle each other, his hand opens my legs and finds my clit, my hands brings his sleeping cock to life, slowly pumping from base to tip. Usually, we don’t seek orgasm at this time. We simply want to touch and rub and awaken a desire to be rekindled over and over throughout the day, a sexy stew left to simmer and gather flavor.

Often in a new relationship, the first sexual act is with the touch of a hand. Innocent at first, hands touching hands, then more overt, a caress of a denim covered butt cheek. Then the touches venture beyond clothing, a tweak of a nipple, the first time a hand grips the warm skin of a cock or a finger reaches inside to explore the folds of a needy pussy. Our first encounter with Pixie Face ran a similar course, but instead of reaching out to touch her, I asked her to show me how she liked to touch herself. We were laying on the bed, my face on her thigh, watching, inches from where she circled her fingers over her clit. She used the flat part of her finger pads to create a wider area, rubbing back and forth. Much different than the pinpoint approach I use, two small fingertips concentrating on the sweet spot in small vigorous circles. Not knowing if this was a one time thing, I wanted to make sure I knew exactly how to get her off.

I have a fantasy about my husband and I and another woman, maybe Pixie Face, all masturbating together. He stands at the end of the bed, watching the two of us on our backs, knees spread, hands busy between our thighs. He touches himself and occasionally reaches out to help us, adding his hand to me, then to her, feeling our wetness. She and I turn our heads to lazily kiss and nibble a shoulder, or find an open eager mouth, our spread thighs rub and crash against each other as we writhe about on the bed. All the while, he is raining dirty words down upon us, filthy, wet sluts with gaping, hungry cunts. She comes first, clenching her thighs closed around her hand and turning to the side, burying her face into my arm as she cries out, all of her muscles tighten and then release with a huge sigh. She looks at me and laughs because she won the race. Then she straddles me, facing him, and watches as I finish, my fingers moving desperately over my sensitive nub, until I finally succumb, screaming and bucking underneath her. He follows right behind, splashing his come over the two of us.

I used to masturbate a lot on my own before we transitioned to full time D/s, sometimes several times a day. Now, he requests that I do not touch myself without permission. It was extremely difficult at the beginning since it had become almost a habit. Bored? Masturbate! Frustrated? Masturbate! Can’t sleep? Yup! I slipped up one time, and the lecture alone was punishment enough. Now, the only time I masturbate is with him watching. I found it strange at first, not that I’d never touched myself in front of him before, but it used to be something that was just for me. Now it is a shared act, one for both of us to enjoy. I obviously got over my shyness and hesitation pretty quickly and love opening my legs for him to watch every juicy bit!

See who else is touching themselves, and click the lips to find out!