Not Shy Anymore

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I get horny sometimes. I suppose that we all do, but sometimes the desire to bed someone else becomes so strong that masturbating and toys wont do. I can spend hours in bed, fondling my breasts, running my fingers down my stomach to my clit, orgasming, curling up into a ball, and then repeating my actions until I am exhausted and still I feel the need for more. Usually reading some stories, thinking back to lovers-past, and relieving myself can maintain these desires, but once I simply could not quell the want firing in the pit of my stomach. I needed some physical attention.

But I am painfully shy. You would not guess it if you simply watched me on the street. I address strangers. I walk with a proud posture and a slight bounce in my step. But inside, whenever I meet someone new my heart pounds and my throat goes dry. This shyness causes a certain amount of unwanted celibacy in my life. I want sex, in all its varied forms; I just have a really hard time asking for it.

The need for attention and the years of shyness argued in me for a while that night, but eventually I decided that something had to be done. I went online and I found an ad on a local website.

MW4W: Four-Hand Massage

We would love for a young woman to come to our home and be treated to a four-hand massage. No reciprocation necessary. It will be treat enough to pamper your body. All boundaries respected.

Somehow when I read that ad I felt safe and secure, as if I could tell that good people who would do no harm to me wrote it. Besides, my body ached from the running I had been squeezing into the last few weeks before my first half-marathon. Even if it did not turn sexual at all, my body would still appreciate the attention.

I answered the ad with a photograph, and waited nervously, chewing at my bottom lip, for a reply. It did not take them five minutes to send their photograph back to me. They were a cute couple, slightly older than me. They looked to be in their early thirties, both white. The woman was slim with dark, sharp features and a serious smile while the man was a bit taller with a shaved head and looked completely friendly. They were not my definition of sexy. If anything they looked cute and homey, as if they would be wonderful to cuddle with. I definitely wanted their hands on me.

An hour later Bostancı Fetiş Escort I was at their house. I almost turned back before knocking, but the floodlights came on and the man opened the door. He smiled and took my hand in his. His fingers were warm and soft and I smiled back at him. Once inside we sat on their couch and made our introductions.

“I’m Jenny,” I told them, “I’m kind of nervous, I’ve never done this before.”

“Well, there isn’t much you have to do, just lie on the table and keep very still. Do you think you can do that?”

“Yeah,” I said, “That sounds great.”

They showed me to their bedroom where they had low music playing, the heat turned up, and candlelight dancing on the walls. Next to their large, plush bed was a massage table draped with a sheet. They left the room long enough for me to undress and slip beneath the sheet, face down.

They came back into the room and the man adjusted the neck rest for me while the woman lifted the sheet from my calves and began massaging my feet. Her hands were small and tough as they kneaded my sore muscles. When his hands joined hers on my body they complimented the sensation perfectly, feeling warm and soft.

The man started on my back while the woman worked on my legs. Their touch felt wonderful and eventually I was drifting away in a state of relaxation. Their motions were very professional and they kept any part of my body that they were not working on covered.

They complimented my body. I knew their words were true, I worked hard to maintain a nicely toned body, running, hiking, or dancing every day of the week, and ate enough to help maintain muscled curves. But as they told me how nice I was to look at, and how wonderful to touch, I still felt spoiled.

Eventually they switched, the man working on my lower half as the woman worked on my back. The man’s strong hands went much further up my thighs than the woman’s had, and I found myself spreading my legs slightly apart to encourage him to go further. But he did not. Once his thumb brushed my pussy, slowly, but then the man stopped completely and covered my legs.

They left the room again for me to flip over. I did and waited for them to return. This time only the man came back. He started massaging my face and neck. His Bostancı Gecelik Escort fingers were strong and skilled, causing me to release all tension. Eventually his hands crept lower and he pulled the sheet off of my breasts, rolling it down to my stomach. My nipples were hard, and the heat in the room made the cause of their salute obvious.

“You know,” the man informed me, “You can touch either of us, too, if you want to.”

He said it casually, in passing, but as he said it his fingers fluttered over my nipples. This was the moment of truth, I knew. I had to give him some sign that I wanted the massage to turn sexual. But I was too shy to touch him. I glanced over at his pants. He was wearing scrubs and I could see that his penis was semi hard beneath the soft fabric. I groaned ever so slightly, but he picked up on the cue.

His hands, which had been working on my ribs and stomach, moved back up to my breasts and he cupped them, applying a gentle, satisfying pressure.

I rewarded his touch with another, slightly louder groan, and he continued.

My nipples are extremely sensitive. I can orgasm from their stimulation alone, and can rarely orgasm unless they are being worked. I wanted to urge him to pull harder on my swollen nipples, to place his mouth over them, to make me cum, but did not know how to ask for it. I looked up at him and he smiled that friendly grin and then glanced down at his cock, now straining against his pants. I lifted my hand to his groin, rubbing the hard cock through the soft material and he groaned just as I did again.

Quite suddenly I felt a quick, wet sensation between my legs that I was unprepared for. My hips bucked and I looked down to see that the man’s wife had returned and she had flicked her tongue over my exposed pussy. She grinned devilishly at me and then placed her mouth, warm and strong, over my clit, working my slit with rapid flicks of her tongue.

I could not control myself, between the soft, reassuring pressure of the man’s hands on my nipples, and the sharp sting of his wife’s tongue my body began to shake, and I began to orgasm.

She barely allowed me to finish before lifting her head from my pussy and telling me, “I want you to suck my husband’s cock.”

She guided me down onto the hardwood Bostancı Genç Escort floor where my knees dug in uncomfortably, and the man stood before me. She knelt behind me and pulled down his pants. His cock was not big, but extremely hard, which turned me on. I immediately took it into my mouth and his size allowed me to swallow it all the way to his balls.

“What a good girl,” his wife whispered into my ear. She was pressed up behind me, grinding her wet pussy into my ass, forcing me to slowly grind my hips as I sucked her man off. Her cold fingers snaked around my body; the fingers of her left hand rolling my nipples while her right hand found the warmth deep within my pussy.

“I want to fuck her,” the man groaned as I swallowed and released his cock, swirling my tongue around his head until I tasted pre-cum and then burying it deep within my throat, “If her throat feels this good then her pussy has got to be heaven.”

With that the woman stopped finger-fucking me and giggled playfully as she bounced onto her bed. The man pulled me up by my long brown hair and stared into my eyes. He grinned.

“Can I fuck you?”

“Yes.” I knew my eyes were shining in that hungry, submissive way they can get and this made the man laugh.

“Mmm, such a wonderful little slut.”

The woman called me over to the bed. She was laying on her back in the middle.

“Straddle me,” she commanded, which I did, “Now down on all fours. My husband is going to fuck you like a dog.”

I dropped to my hands and knees above the woman, my breasts just barely brushing hers. She wiggled down the bed a little lower and took my nipple in her mouth. I groaned with pleasure. She was a lot rougher with the nipple than her husband had been, biting and pulling as she sucked, and I was nearing orgasm yet again when I felt his cock thrust into my pussy.

He grabbed my hips and I bucked back against him, grinding my clit onto his balls. He began to thrust, hard and fast while his wife reached down and satisfied my hungry clit with her fingers. I was driven to ecstasy, uncontrollable as I bucked back against him harder and faster, my nipples being pulled roughly out of his wife’s mouth by my hard movement.

She bit down, hard, to hold a nipple, and the pain pushed me over the edge. I began to orgasm. My slowed movements and gripping pussy pushed the man over the edge. He pulled his cock from my vibrating pussy and began to squirt cum all over my back.

I collapsed onto his wife, and he collapsed onto me. The three of us laid there in a tangled mess and I thought, “Hell, why would I ever be shy?”

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