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All characters are over the age of 18.



There’s a certain kind of feeling you get from waking up with your bare skin against your sheets. A nice relaxing feeling followed by a sense of dread. You’re not supposed to sleep this way. Not sure what judgements people would bestow upon me if they knew, but I’m sure not all of them would be welcoming. It’s a shame we have to spend so much of our lives pleasing those kind of people.

But for now it’s just with me and my blankets, with no clothes to keep us apart. “Fuck dread,” I think. I’m just going to enjoy this. No elastic on my skin here, only the feeling of cloth rubbing against my skin without any constriction. It’s just molding itself to whatever contortions my body may make with no requirements on my part.

Suddenly the blanket rubs against my vagina. It brings my attention to its wetness, and how much more wet I could make it if I wanted to. I move my hand down to feel it. Not doing anything yet, just feeling the warmth of my hand against it. Feels good. I do a tiny little stroke down the centre. Nothing to start me up, but enough to remind myself how good I can make myself feel. Spend a little time on my clit too, cause why not.

But enough of that, there’ll be time for that later. Now to get up. I stand, exposing my nakedness to the morning light of my room. I take a moment to feel the air. Even though I’ve done this before it still feels odd to me. I wish it didn’t. My brain’s still set to worry about what would happen if my parents barged into my room to feel at ease. That’s a shame. I imagine how good it would feel to stand there and feel completely comfortable in my body.

I take a moment to stand in the mirror. I can see how people could see me and think of nothing but sex. There’s my vagina after all. Still, I can’t help but wonder if they’re missing something else. I understand the necessity of clothes. To escape the brutality of nature we created a construction we call society. To support this construction we needed to become a part of it, hence clothes. Yet, there seems to be something to us that’s outside of this construction. Something that can only be embraced without clothes. If only there were more chances for that.

Well, I could stand around being the nude philosopher or I could put on my person uniform. Let’s see which color under the sun should I choose. I’m sure everyone will give a shit what I’m wearing today. Hmmmm, yellow, blue or green?


I lie down in my bed desperately trying to rub one out. It’s very hard to stop when you’ve already started. I wish I could get on with my day already but I don’t want the memory of my hard on tainting the rest of the day. Spending the day recalling the morning wood I chose to vainly ignore, only to have the vestiges of my horniness come in and out of my system as I try to do other things. Better to just take care of it right now. This isn’t a world where sexuality can flow clean through. It has to be compartmentalized, saved for behind closed doors. And this is me compartmentalizing.

I briefly think about throwing my sheets off of me. Cumming is in part a mental game and maybe being laid bare would do the trick? I decide against it, not sure of who could see, there’s no lock on my door. Not that much of an exhibitionist for that I guess. And it has never been about the power of being able to make someone see me like that, it has always been about feeling the quiet acceptance someone can feel when they witness me doing something that others would frown on.

Suddenly I hear my sister Erika opening her door. I wrap the blanket around myself. A little while ago I saw her going from her bedroom to the bathroom completely nude. I don’t know how to feel about my sister being the one who did this, but I sure know how I felt about the action itself. I wanted to know if it was going to be another one of those days, maybe that could be the thing that sets me off.

Unfortunately it was a gray black day, not a nude day. Slightly disappointed, I went back to my bed. Still the memory gave me another pulse through my nether region. Maybe that would be enough to finish what I started.


I spread some butter on my toast. Looks like I won’t be looking skeletal thin any time soon. Judging from what I saw in the mirror though, any guy would be lucky to have me. Maybe if I ever grow a gut I can make like a rabbit and carrot my way through breakfast. Until then though I think I’ll revel in simple pleasures, And I want to eat breakfast quickly so that I can quickly get over to Lizzie’s house. There’s sure to be many a pleasure there.

I do the travel thing and knock on Lizzie’s door. The door opens and simple pleasantries abound. Nothing to stop us from the main course. She goes upstairs, I follow. I guess it’s kind of awkward as we’re both girls, no natural power structure to dive into. But soon we’ll get to the point where power won’t matter.

I enter her room. She closes the door. Words are just an obstacle illegal bahis now. She begins to take off her shirt. I take off mine. She takes off her pants, I follow suit.

We’ve seen each other in the flesh so much that you’d think we could skip to full nudity, but no. We have to get under the covers first. I for one would vote to look at her naked point blank for a bit while she looks at me, I like the view and I liked to be viewed. I can have my face buried in her crotch but I can’t fully see her. Perhaps if I ask, but there’s always the specter of awkwardness. Awkwardness has killed many a relationship, and I don’t want whatever I have going on here to fall victim to it.

It’s never been defined, it just happened one sleepover and hasn’t stopped. We used to talk about all sorts of things, boys, school, hopes. Now we just sort of lick and lie. Don’t get me wrong, I like licking, but one day I hope we can have the best of both worlds.

Still though I just feel defeated, even though I’m about to take her panties off. Who knew you could do that and still feel estranged. With her vagina inches away from me I take a deep breath and do my thing.

I don’t know if I’m good at this. Her sounds seem to say yes but I always wonder if there’s a hint of desperation in them. As a vagina owner myself, you’d think I’d for sure know how to operate one. Yet I’m still an amateur at this. I certainly couldn’t practice on myself so her moans are my only guide.

Hoping I had warmed her up enough, I got to the clit. She once told me she liked circles around it. Maybe my tongue needs to hit the gym a bit because that gets tiring very fast. I wonder if there’s a way to make it so my tongue doesn’t rub against my teeth so much. Or maybe I don’t need to make my tongue so tense.

As much as I may complain, I still like this. It makes me feel like I was growing. I remember thinking about sex when I was 16, now it’s not thinking I do. My thinking could never imagine the smell and taste I feel. It could never imagine the way her hand sometimes goes down to my hair, brushing it before moving away. It’s those things that keep me coming back, the tantalizing possibilities of what sex can offer.

I’m not gay, at least I don’t think so. I’m not even sure I’m bi. As far as I can tell I’d rather be doing this with a man. It’s just I’ve never met the right man. Most are so closed off, even the most macho and brash of men, I look at them and all I see is fear. I don’t want to fuck fear, I’d rather fuck Lizzie. Lizzie may be a little closed off, but at least there was still a person there, not a projection. I was just looking for a person I could explore my sexuality with. Lizzie ended up being that person. Pity exploring her personally didn’t come with it.

Who am I to judge though? Haven’t you heard the parade of neuroticism that’s entered my brain? The thoughts of a coward is what they are, a coward who was able to strike up enough nerve to stick her tongue up her friend’s snatch but a coward nonetheless. I guess it really is easier to fuck a girl than to get to know her.

Finally she was finished. Got my tongue stained with girl cum as a reward for my efforts. Looks like it’s my turn to lie back and feel the ride. I take of my panties and even my bra too, why not? She still chooses to keep her bra on. Don’t know how I should feel about this, all I know is that I like being naked. Can’t say why she won’t join me.

I don’t know why I’m still thinking. I’m fucking living out a wet dream and yet I’m still pent. This very much could be fun, yet I’ve found a way to make it less. Don’t get me wrong, I’m about to get my box licked. I’d give that a like on Facebook if I could. However… Enough with the howevers, maybe it’s time to just lie back and let Lizzie do what she does.

… That didn’t last long. There’s always commentary to be had. Fuck you brain. Maybe I should do meditation, clear my thoughts. If you were wondering what I was thinking, it entered my mind how much more I enjoyed doing the licking. I guess ring around the clitoris doesn’t do it for me. Maybe a strap on could work, but that seems like the penis equivalent of a veggie burger.

I think it has something to do with control, or maybe with learning, or… I don’t know. There’s always a maybe with me. Let me think of an ideal reality for me. It would be me and Lizzie in a field somewhere, all alone. We’re both naked. We move to each other and embrace, maybe we fuck or maybe we’ve already fucked. One less thing to worry about.

Anyway we’re just standing there, hugging, maybe kissing. This is my fantasy, I get to have maybes here. I’m selfish like that. What matters is we’re naked and holding each other, without a blanket to cover ourselves. Our nakedness is not a prelude to sex but rather an end into itself. A scaffold to build trust and intimacy on. I don’t know in details what we say to each other, but it’s nice. Then we withhold our embraces for now, and walk off together to parts unknown.

Instead we’re illegal bahis siteleri in bed and she’s wearing a bra. Maybe I should tell her about my fantasy, or maybe I should continue letting her eat me out. She is getting few gasps out of me though. Gasping is good. I think I should tell her though, but I don’t. As I said before, I’m a coward. Coward’s don’t talk hopes and dreams.

Seems like as good as place as any to stop. I haven’t done my cumming yet but don’t feel like it’s going to happen any time soon. It doesn’t even seem like cumming’s what I’m after. I motion for her to stop. She does so and gives me a little half-assed cuddling. I feel her bra against her skin. I like Lizzie, I really do, and so it really pains me to think that this could be better.

Why not talk to her? Maybe if I get her to talk I can find a place for her in my dreams. I don’t want to lose whatever we have, us being girls could be enough deviation for her as it is. But maybe I could make this better.



“…How was that for you?”

“It was good. You?”

“Very good. Anything that would make it better?”


“You want to take your bra off?”


“I don’t know, I’d just like to see them.”

She takes off her bra and I see it does nothing for me. At least not like this. I no longer know how it could be better. Perhaps it’s time to lay my head on her breast and try to fall asleep for a bit. Sleeping naked builds intimacy I’ve heard, but I don’t know what would make me happy anymore. My head on her breast feels good though.


I go downstairs naked. I have breakfast naked. I watch tv naked. I go back upstairs naked. I do a lot of things naked. Nothing to worry about because there’s no one else here and the curtains are closed. Yet nothing still replicates the feeling I had when I saw Erika. There was a certain purity and bravery about her when I saw her do that. My actions possessed none of those things.

Might as well get dressed. Might as well do my off break assignments, maybe something better will come along that I’ll need my time for.

At around 4 I got a text, it was from my erstwhile-at-college high school sweetheart Amanda. I guess we’re not so erstwhile anymore. We’ve hooked up… why keep count. We’ve hooked up enough while on break. Why not make it more than plenty.

She asks if I can come over at 5:15. I sure can. When the time comes I get in my car, do the requisite travel time and exit in front of her parents place. I come a knocking. She answers and whisks me away to her bedroom.

Not sure how I should feel about her. Don’t get me wrong, I like her just fine. It’s just I could live without her. Not sure if that’s a necessity on her part. In fact I’m not sure a lot of how she feels. Should I?

I just know she likes sex. Otherwise I wouldn’t be here. Our relationship beyond this break is caput. I like her better than most but you know, College. I’m sure she feels the same way, why wouldn’t she? I’m betting captain of the football team is just jonesing to crush her pussy when she returns.

Maybe that’s too vulgar. I just don’t like emotions clogging up my way of thinking, vulgarity helps with that. Can’t be so emotional when you’ve just narrowed it down to penis entering vagina. That’s all this is. I’ve had experiences like this where I’ve brought higher thoughts to the table, hasn’t ended well.

So I take off her shirt, it’s what’s expected of me after all. Take off her bra too while I’m at it. She gives her breasts a little jiggle to add flavor to the encounter. It’s appreciated. I’m a boob man, or at least I’m more a boob man than an ass man. I honestly like both very much but if there was a ranking, boobs beat butts. But really I prefer my girls just completely naked, which I’m glad to know Amanda will oblige.

I take off her jeans, and then her panties. Her panties are a little too tight to do both at once or my fingernails are a little too sharp to finagle that one. But jeans can come down before panties, that’s no deal breaker.

So now she’s completely naked, which is the way that I like her. I think that’s the way she likes herself too, at least when I’m there. So time to get on her level. I push her on her bed while I take my own clothes off.

I stand before her completely nude. She doesn’t do anything but make her smile wider, which is always nice. She’s got a nice smile, really gets you in the mood. I join her on her bed and give her a little kiss or two. The politics of kissing have always been a little strange to me. I’m about to stick my dick into her, you’d think that would triumph over all. Nevertheless, the kissing is what she’ll most remember, so I make sure to give her one or two, no more than three kisses.

See, kissing is a form of communication. It shows how much we care about the other. I don’t know the amount of kissing that’s expected from me but I’d rather play it safe and leave her wanting. No more than two. Well… Maybe canlı bahis siteleri after the fucking is done. Even then it’s only one or two kisses after that. People understand the need to fuck, they empathize with it. We’ve all got needs, a gal is going to understand me wanting to fuck her. They’re going to have a harder time wrapping their heads around why I want to kiss her.

Don’t get me wrong, I like kissing. But it’s just there’s such meaning you’re beholden too. Fucking’s just fucking. There’s an intimacy with sex that can be greater than kissing, but you can hide behind the fact that it just feels good. Kissing, well… You kind of have to keep that connection in mind. Would I have kept kissing her just cause it felt good? I don’t know, cause I can’t know, it’s too connected to emotion. Lip to lip, man, there’s some unconcealed connection right there. Genital to genital, there’s some excuses right there.

So any way, my dick is mighty hard, so hard you can break some balsa wood over it. I don’t welcome that challenge but you can see what I mean. Anyway, it’s at least hard enough to fuck her with it, which is what’s important. So I guess I might as well get to fucking.

She’s on the pill. No need to wear a condom. I’ve gotten my blood tested, so has she. I hate the smell and feel of condoms, so does she. So some good natural barebacking is what the situation calls for.

I situate my penis right next to her entrance, she obliges. She’s on all fours, she likes the doggystyle, why not give her what she wants. I slowly push my tip to her entrance, she’s wet enough to let me in further. And so further I go, burying and burying myself into her being. Soon I enter a place where I can venture no further. That’s good, that means I can pull out and begin a thrusting.

I’m about to go to the place where thoughts are not needed. That’s good because my thoughts haven’t been servicing me today. In an earlier era this is why kids would’ve been born. But in an era of birth control, I’m saved from that fate. In by last brief moments of cognizance I wonder if a chance at mindlessness is what continued our species, but the buildup to my orgasm negates thoughts. It’s hard to be philosophical when you’re about to unload into a girl.

I’m finished and go down to lay on her front. This is nice for me, hope it’s good for her too. At the very least the sex being good for her gives her a reason to keep coming back to me.

I’m lying on my back to catch my breath. Amanda doesn’t have much of that problem. I guess that’s the advantage of taking it. She can just lie on her own. I’ve done my part, why should she matter? Yet she does matter, even though we’re just doing the fuck buddy routine, I know realize we’re important to each other. Can’t vocalize the reason though.

I wait a while, basking in what has just happened. Suddenly, there’s a knock on her door. She doesn’t seem worried though, I guess it’s not her parents. I don’t see how anyone can be that nonchalant after they’ve finished procreating and their parents are knocking on their door. Amanda stands up completely naked, wraps her blanket around her and answers the door. She opens it and I can recognize her brother Tristian’s voice. I can’t hear what he or she says, but I the door closes. She returns back to me, to lie down and rest. Strange that she answered the door to her brother, only wearing a blanket


Once more I feel Lizzie’s bra against my skin. I wish this would stop. I don’t know what to say, I’m fucking nude, why can’t she be? Doesn’t she think I took off my bra for a reason? My genitalia isn’t connected to my chest as far as I know.

Just then though Lizzie finally opens her mouth.

“Hey Erika?”

“Yes Lizzie?”

“Amanda invited me to a weekend getaway.”

Amanda and Lizzie were friends even though Amanda was a year ahead of her. It makes sense old pals would want to connect on break. “Oh.”

“… Would you like to come with me?”

“I’m invited?”

“Yeah, I can get a plus one.”

“I mean, my brother’s still shagging her.”


“So, awkwardness.”

“It doesn’t have to be awkward.”

That’s a little rich coming from her. “… Well… I just thought it would.”

“Well… you can always think that it isn’t.”

“… I’m down.”

“You are?”


“… I’ll go tell her.”

I’m not sure what I’d gotten myself into. Hell, I was no longer sure who Lizzie was. I thought I knew, but I might have been deluding myself. Strange how that happens.


“Hey Michael?”


“Do you want to get away for a weekend?”


“Even if it’s with your sister.”

“…Sure, I don’t hate her.”

“… Just wondering.”

Yet I was wondering. Why was my sister invited? What did Amanda think about us? Did she know about the fateful morning when I spied my sister naked? I hadn’t told her. Did intuition tell her?


So here I find myself, sitting alone with my brother Michael sitting alongside me in the backseat. In between us in the middle is Lizzie, who as you already know, I’ve gotten down and dirty with. Strange contrast her and my brother. Looks Like we forgot to bring normalcy on this trip.

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