His girlfriend wants to watch him jerk off, but what starts off as a case of simple masturbation turns into a crackling evening of explosive auto-eroticism.

Masturbation is one of life’s most underrated pleasures. I discovered not long ago, however, that it is a lot more fun when you do it with someone you love. This is often difficult for many people to do, because no matter how liberated we may be about other sexual matters, masturbation seems by definition to be something we do alone, in secret. I had trouble overcoming this prejudice. I wasn’t actively hiding the fact that I enjoyed masturbating, and I didn’t try to pretend I didn’t do it; I just believe that everything belongs in its proper place, and that masturbation is private. So I was rather lukewarm about my wife’s initial request that she be allowed to watch.

Nora did not insist. As time went on, however, she made it clear that her interest wasn’t just curiosity. She said that the thought of me fondling myself turned her on. She could imagine me doing it, she said, all naked and hard and oiled up, stroking myself to orgasm. In fact, she said, she frequently fantasized about me masturbating while she masturbated. It was, she promised, a guaranteed turn-on.

The more she described how excited this made her, the more I wanted us to watch each other make ourselves come. She even offered to help. She asked me whether I looked at pictures of women or read erotic books when I did it; I admitted that I did both.

“Perfect,” she said. She could take care of the details. It was, she explained, simply a matter of her slipping into something hot and sexy, reading something erotic to me and then leaning back to watch me do the deed. All I had to do was behave as I normally did, just as though she were not in the room. Or, better yet, as though she were a stranger who had mysteriously appeared to watch. This last did the trick for me, and I agreed to go ahead.

I went to the bedroom and undressed. My cock was getting hard. In a moment Nora came in. She was wearing heels, stockings, a garter belt, crotchless panties and a bra that stopped just underneath her erect nipples. I had no idea she even owned underwear like that. She had a book under her arm. She pulled a straightbacked chair around so that I could see all of her and sat down, crossing her legs. She opened her book and began to read. The book was a Victorian underground classic about bondage and discipline among London’s upper classes. It was deliciously arousing and my wife read it well, lingering over the detailed descriptions of the many humiliations a wealthy young nobleman put his mistress through. As the story got steamier, I got more and more turned on. I spread an ample amount of oil on my hands and began to touch myself. As I did, I noticed that my wife was looking up from time to time as she read and watching me over the top of her book.

As I listened to Nora read, my eyes slid over her curvy body, over her propped up breasts, her flat stomach and her partially revealed crotch. Meanwhile, using just my fingertips, I lightly traced the outline of my erection. It curved against my belly and twitched and quivered when I lightly brushed the tender area under the head. It was stretched to its fullest and pulsing thickly. As Nora read on, I fully encircled it with my slippery fingers. I raised it, aiming it at the ceiling, and began to pump.

My wife managed to continue reading, her eyes darting from me to the book and back again. I got rock-hard as she stole glances at what I was doing. I wanted to fuck her right there, while she read, pretending to be disinterested. Soon I was arching my back in pleasure. Finally she stopped reading altogether, put the book down and simply stared openly at me, at my slowly moving hand, at my rigid cock. She uncrossed her legs, placed her hands on her knees and spread her knees, showing herself completely. I was cupping my balls with one hand and stroking myself faster with other, and as she watched, a smile slowly spread over her face. She delicately moistened her lips with the tip of her pink tongue; her eyes were focused on my cock, which, in that instant, began to spurt come.

I gripped myself tightly in pleasure. I heard Nora sigh happily as she watched me enjoy my intense orgasm. She got up from her chair and came over to the bed. She knelt down and kissed me. Afterward she thanked me with kisses and promised something even better for a future rendezvous.

We talked it over and decided that since she had had such a good time watching me, perhaps I might enjoy watching her. I admitted that despite my earlier doubts, having her watch me had been a real tum-on. I agreed that it might be fun if we were to switch roles. And when I told her how much I wanted her to touch herself while I was jerking off, she agreed that it would be even more fun if we watched each other build to climax. She thought it was such a great idea that she wanted to pursue it that very evening. So after dinner we met on the couch in the living room.

I had put on one of her favorite videos to set the mood. Nora was wearing one of her best outfits, a white bodysuit that is cut very high in the leg and very narrow in the crotch. Its pale fabric reveals her nipples and pubic hair as dark shadows. I was wearing something chosen by her just for the occasion, a tight

G-string of thin flesh-colored nylon that barely contains me and reveals, as she likes to put it, “every line and ridge.” We had some chilled wine and plenty of warm oil standing by. We had also agreed that we could say anything, including talking dirty or asking for some particular action, but that we were to keep our hands off each other no matter what. With that, I pushed PLAY.

We watched the movie-it was very sexy in a slow, drawn-out way: suggestive but not graphic. The performers were young, hard and lean. I became aroused at once, and within minutes I could see, out of the comer of my eye, that my wife had shifted position. She was now lying back in the comer of a couch, one leg outstretched, the other up on the back of the couch and her hands running along the curved undersides of her thighs. I turned away from the movie, focusing instead on my wife; she began to describe the action on the screen. I shifted so that I was lying in the opposite comer of the couch and imitating exactly her position, a mirror image of Nora.

At first she just stroked her thighs as she spoke. Her hands then circled higher and higher and approached her mound. She began to tug at the leg openings of the bodysuit, pulling them higher and higher, which left just a tight, narrow band that barely covered her and left her clearly outlined. Finally she reached down and began to run one finger along the center seam, working the fabric deeper into her and deeper until her plump lips, flushed coral, bulged out around the white, wet material. With one hand massaging her breasts, she began to insert the ring and middle fingers of one hand past the fabric and into her pussy.

Watching my wife make love to herself was an erotic fantasy come true. I had seen pictures of the same thing in magazines, had seen it in x-rated movies as well; this, however, was something special, one of the all-time great turn-ons. In some ways it was more exciting than actually fucking her or having her suck me. For a while, I simply lay back and marveled at the erotic inventiveness of my wife’s mind, but I found that not only was I unable to keep from touching myself, but she began to demand it. And so, with my eyes and consciousness totally focused on what she was doing, I began to imitate her, stroke for stroke.

At first I just fondled myself through the nylon pouch. It was thin and tight, and it held me compactly, almost lovingly. I held myself with both hands and stroked myself through the material. I put all four fingers of my right hand together and placed them over my covered hardon, a strangely erotic pledge of allegiance. I started to move my hand north-tosouth, up and down, faster and faster, holding my erection right against my pelvis. I could feel the beginnings of an orgasm approaching, like the distant whistle of a train a mile away. I started to increase the speed of this action, my right hand going as fast as I could make it go. But when I felt myself coming, I stopped. Nora gasped and renewed her own efforts. I reached over and poured a liberal amount of oil onto my fingers. I quickly transferred it to my cock, coating my member completely, then spreading the remainder down across my balls.

When I was thoroughly lubricated, I began to stroke myself in earnest, using long, slow motions that took my hand from base to tip and back again. As I watched my wife push her fingers into her cunt and wetly slide them in and out, I began to use harder, quicker motions. She watched intently as she rubbed her clitoris with her thumb. Using two fingers, she carefully parted her labia and gradually inserted her long middle finger, easing it enticingly inside herself. We were both moving fast now, our eyes glued to each other’s as we accelerated to a frenzy of heart-stopping delight.

The movie was forgotten; we had become lost in each other. Each of us fed on the sight of the other, forming an endless circle of lust. Movement matched movement; pleasure matched wonderful pleasure.

Finally I began to come, and at the sight of the thick white fluid spurting from the head of my straining cock, Nora was set off as well, her face blushing brightly, the veins in her neck standing out sharply. Her hand was frozen in place now; her thighs were clasped together tightly as her own orgasm crashed over her. T rough it all, though it took some effort, we kept our eyes fixed on each other, neither of us wanting to miss the tiniest part of the other’s explosive orgasm.

The final step in our masturbatory odyssey was, of course, that we would touch each other simultaneously. We decided to make an evening of it, starting with supper. By prior agreement, we dined in loose robes, with nothing on underneath. They covered us completely, but there were many enticing flashes of sex during the meal. Afterward we took chilled wine upstairs and enjoyed a long, lingering shower together. Naturally we helped each other wash those hard-toreach spots, and by the time we dried each other off, we were both highly aroused.

In the bedroom, we began our pleasure ritual, coating each other lightly with massage oil from head to foot, working the knots out of tired muscles and completing the process of relaxation. Finally we began to focus on each other’s body. While Nora lay on her stomach, I concentrated on her plump bottom, rubbing it and reaching down and between her legs, which she obligingly spread for me. I was on my knees at her side, and it was a simple matter for her to reach down with one hand and stroke my cock lightly as I worked. I confess that at this point it was all I could do to keep from spreading her legs further, kneeling between them and shoving my cock into her, but I kept to the program and continued the massage.

Nora turned over, and I transferred my attentions to her breasts, teasing them gently until they glistened with oil and her little nipples were as hard as diamonds. I worked my right hand lower, across her taut stomach, through her crisply curling pubic hair, to her pouting labia. She was hot and open, and my middle finger glided easily from her clitoris to her cleft and back again. She lay back and half-closed her eyes, allowing this to continue for some time while fondling me with one hand. Then she decided to take action.

She sat up and pushed me, hard, back on the bed. I landed on my back and bounced, my stiff cock bouncing too. She moved in close, which brought her breasts into contact with my cock. This drove me crazy; the soft skin of her breasts grazed my erection teasingly. At first, when I resumed stroking her, her breasts simply pillowed me while she ran sharp nails lightly along my belly. She licked her lips, her mouth dangerously close to the tip of my cock, but she only smiled at me and ran the tip of her tongue along my thigh. Tonight her hands were going to do the work.

Nora held me lightly, about midway along the shaft, and began to brush the underside of the head across her nipples. They were erect and begging to be sucked and bitten. As she circled them with my cock, she watched me closely for my reaction. The expression on my face must have satisfied her; she continued with what she was doing, alternately stroking me with her fingers and touching her nipples with the head of my cock. At the same time, I was having an effect on her, because she spread her legs apart and thrust her pussy against my fingers. The massage oil I had used had mingled with her own lubrication, and my fingers glided in and out of her, first up to her hard clitoris, then down and in. Each time I touched a sensitive point, she gasped with delight.

This could not continue for very long; we were going to come. At Nora’s urgent request, I slid the middle fingers of each hand into her and held them there. With the heel of one hand, I maintained a rotating action against her clitoris. That was all she needed. With her thighs alternately clasping and releasing my hand and her hips bucking against me, she began to come in spasms while her cunt gripped my digging fingers. She began to moan and the hand on my cock worked faster. I exploded, streams of semen flying across her oil-coated tits. She continued to slide my cock back and forth across her nipples, smearing them with come. Our orgasms crested, broke and finally subsided. She squeezed the last drops of fluid from me. When we slipped back into our robes, we agreed that the next step was best left unplanned. We fell asleep in each other’s loving arms.