In Front of the Kids

My room-mate got dressed up to go out on a date, and he even offered to call a friend. “Make it a double?”

“No, that’s all right, I think I’ll stay home tonight.” I know, it’s weird, and a little oxymoronic, but I’m a bit introverted, and an exhibitionist at the same time. I don’t care about my privacy, but the thought of going out with them, on a date. A double date, it isn’t even the idea that anyone that would be single probably isn’t a real winner.

I like sex, I just don’t want to go out there, to get it. The lockdowns didn’t help, while all the extroverts (Including my room-mate, and her boyfriend) complained about not going out, it was just an excuse to stay home. Being cooped up with her wouldn’t even have been too bad if she didn’t complain about being cooped up with me, so much.

“Huh!” Finally, I was alone, with the whole apartment to myself, and I could keep my bedroom door open. Getting ready for bed, I took my day bra off, and turned a night shirt inside out to put it on.

Then, I saw my underwear drawer open. My favorite bra sticking out, and decided to dress up a little. It’s dark green, but that just compliments the flush spreading across my chest. Above my cleavage, even as I lift, and separate to juggle the girls in their cups.

I’ve read plenty of erotica, of course. Don’t you think it’s a little bit of a turn-off, stopping the foreplay to do math? I like adjectives better than numbers, like Ample. Plenty, I’ve got nothing to be ashamed of, in the chest department.

“Huh!” Since I was warming up, I kicked off my pajama shorts, and pulled the matching underpants out. My dark and curlies never saw the light of day, so the ginger highlights aren’t picked up in the sun, but that’s another thing that the Forrest green lace compliments. Scratching my curls, and slipping a finger down to check for dampness. I can’t remember the last time I had the freedom to just sit around the living room in my underwear.

She’s so modest, and she doesn’t want me to see her in her skivvies, either. There’s nothing homosexual, nor even bicurious in our relationship. We’re roommates, and good friends, but she’s got issues. We all do, and most of them actually compliment each other. She can go out, to buy the Rum, and Coke when I’m not feeling like braving the store. Especially the crowds on a weekday night.

Her modesty, and privacy aren’t really a problem either, but it makes walking around half naked feel that much freer. Too bad, we don’t have a mirror in here, but after pouring myself a drink, and putting the soda back in the fridge. I remembered the patio door, and the one we had back at the house, when I was growing up.

“Like a virgin, hey!” I sung to myself, “Touched for the very first time. Like a virrrrerergin. Feel your heart beat. Sip!” I mixed it pretty strong, so the heat burned down my throat, making my neck even redder. My chest even hotter in the light from the kitchen. Reflected from the patio door, “More like a mirror. Huh?”

I guess it was a cry for attention, if not help. I used to imagine boys, lining up, and trying the patio door. Only to find it locked, while I was rolling around on the floor in a tablecloth. Like Madonna, of course. Grandma had this old tablecloth, she only brought out for special occasions, like Thanksgiving, and Christmas.

It was more like a bedsheet, lets be honest, but it was the laciest thing we had. The trim went all the way around it like a giant doily, wedding dress, in virginal white. “Hey little sister, what have you done?” I just put my feet up on the coffee table, and scooted out on the couch. Remembering how I learned to masturbate, practicing a striptease, just like I saw Madonna do on VH1. “It’s a. Nice day to, start again…” My little brother punching the air in a fauxhawk, thinking that’s Punk Rock.

“Huh!” it worked, I was definitely past moist. Of course, the boys weren’t really climbing over the fence to watch me strip, and masturbate in the back yard. I mean the den, downstairs, but they’d have to be in the back yard to see me through the fence. Their little boners getting hard, and looking over at each other nervously.

“Don’t look,” unzipping their flies, and fishing them out to spank the monkey, and cover the patio door in dripping white squirts of lust.

“Uh! Huh!” I just relaxed. Gave my inner lips a couple more slow gentle strokes, consciously aware of their slickness, from the juiced dipped out. “Huh, huhHhuh!” A few shuddering breaths as the kegel like spasms died down. So, I could slip my fingertip back in the hole, careful about the nail, and slowly penetrate myself.

Without scratching myself, with the carefully polished blunt edge. That just reminded me of my cherry, and how long I teased myself, before I broke it. I waited for my period, and it did help the nasty stuff come out. Allowed me to use tampons so I didn’t feel like I had a diaper in my underpants at school.

Of course, I could also finger myself deeper. Harder, and faster, so the dirty little thrills remembered from imaginary pervert boys lined up outside my back door to watch me play like a virgin built up into a crescendo of pleasure! “Uh ah han! Nh hm!” I felt it squeeze around my knuckle, a few times before I slipped my nail back out. carefully, between the tight twitches to rub the rough lace against my ginger minge, satisfied.

“Whew!” I blinked, and smiled at myself in the mirror. Lit up like Christmas, and took a deep breath through my nose. To fill it with the sexy odor of 2 orgasms, 1 clitoral, and one annular, before picking up the remote, and turning off the lights.

To go to bed, but in the sudden darkness. It was as if I’d turned on the parking lot lights at the same time. Of course, I couldn’t see the dim reflection, over the back fence in the bright room, but now that I could.

“Huh!” For a second there, it was surreal, like waking up from a dream. A wet dream, that I’d been having, for. Well over a decade now. The shadows moving through the gaps, between the fence boards. The tops of heads barely higher than the 4′ high fence. Between my patio, and the parking lot.

I’m 24 now, but I must have been 9 or 10 when i started playing, like a virgin, in front of the patio door. I was a virgin, but it had taken almost 15 years, before my hottest dream came true? I was satisfied, and thinking about a shower and bed, or just bed?

Now, the thrill had returned in a rush I’d never felt before. It was almost like fear, the only thing I can compare it to is leaning back in your chair, so you almost, but not quite fall over and hit the back of your head?

“Huh!” I went to my room, and bent over. Pulling my soaked underpants down, and unhooking my bra to let them hang. Burying my face in my pillow, and only coming up for air when I felt like I was about to pass out. I never even started counting how many orgasms I pounded out, Imagining the boys gathered around, and I’m not going to lie.

It’s a 4′ fence, so if they’re just tall enough to peek over it, then these aren’t grown men. Not even short ones. We’re talking about little boys, not even hair on their balls, I bet. Bald little stiffies, catching their first glimpses of a hot horny college coed alone at home. In my underwear, masturbating in front of the patio door furiously until my room-mate got home.

She just slammed the door, so I caught my breath. Pulled up my underwear, and hooked my bra. Then grabbed my biggest heaviest bathrobe. It was like a beach blanket with sleeves, and a belt, but when I went in to say I was sorry, they were already in her bedroom. I could hear the bedsprings, but of course she didn’t make a sound. I could hear his heavy breathing, grunts, and even hard slaps of skin on skin, but I could just imagine.

“Huh!” I was just exhausted, from the longest sexual marathon I could remember, anyway. I’m honestly a little curious how many I managed to crank out before they got home, but now I really need that shower. Especially since they’re going to want the bathroom to clean up after they get done fucking, but I just put my head down, and let the water drown them out.

“Phwew!”

I wonder if those boys will come back, and whether they’ll invite their friends?

“Hey guys, you want to see a naked lady, with a dildo, and a buttplug, and a vibrator?”

Next time, I’ll have to remember to break out the toybox. I didn’t even think about getting out the dirty DVDs, she doesn’t even know I have, because I didn’t need to. Honestly, all I needed was the apartment to myself, and a real audience sure helped!

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