Chapter 2: Morning Masturbation Time

Saturday morning arrived before I knew it and I woke up to the dead silence of my apartment. Not even the furnace fan was running and if not for the occasional sound of a car outside in the parking lot, it was like I was isolated from the world. Twisting over onto my back, I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and stretched my legs out, pointing my toes toward the end of the bed while my arms reached for the ceiling far above me. Despite the cold weather, my covers had been tossed off during the night as usual, and I felt little goose bumps rise on my exposed skin as I tried to rouse myself.

Lowering my arms, my hands instinctively fell to my boobs. I cupped myself, one boob in each hand, as my fingers tightened and lightly massaged them. The nipples were already somewhat erect from the cold and I let them slid between my fingers, sending a slight tingle through me. My thighs pressed together tightly in reaction to signals from my pussy that it wanted attention and my hands tightened more on my breasts. My pussy wasn’t taking no for an answer so I let my right hand works its way slowly downward, the fingertips tracing lightly over my bare stomach, causing me to jerk slightly as it tickled me.

Down my hand went until it reached my pussy - which was badly in need of a fresh shave. It was like running my fingers over my dad’s face in the morning before he shaved and for just a moment, my rational mind intruded to remind me that I needed to shave before I left this evening! With the panties and sort of things I was expecting to be wearing, this was not a time for me to have anything but a baby-smooth pussy.

My thoughts of shaving quickly disappeared as my clit sent out a little jolt when my fingertips brushed over it. Damn, I must have been having quite the erotic dream before waking up as I my pussy was already wet - not that it was exactly a surprise. As horny as I felt when I woke up, it would have been shocking NOT to have been soaking wet already.

What is it with mornings anyway? Is it the dreams I have that I don’t remember that leave me feeling like I simply HAVE to have sex from the moment I wake up? Was it that with my body rested and feeling energized my natural sexuality just took over and made me horny as hell in the morning? Whatever the medical or psychological reasoning, mornings have always been my most naturally horny time of day. Don’t get me wrong - it’s not that I don’t get horny all the time most of the rest of the day, it’s just that mornings are like dependable like clockwork.

With rare exceptions, I can count on it as something that is always going to be waiting for me when I awake, waiting for me to regain consciousness so I can provide for the needs of my body. Of course, the BEST was to wake up is with a guy’s dick already in me, or at least making a best effort, but that wasn’t about to happen when you lived alone in your own apartment.

My finger slid down from my swelling clit, down between my wet pussy lips until I felt the opening to my pussy. Resisting the temptation to immediately press my finger inside, I only pushed hard enough to allow just the tip to slip in and then I quickly pulled it out, repeating the process over and over as if I was pumping it with my fingertip. At the same time, my palm was pressing down on my clit while my left hand continued to work on my boobs, pulling on my nipples and letting them snap back. It wasn’t anything urgent, at least not yet, just slow and steady movements that barely caused me to stir on the bed.

As I continued to masturbate, my thoughts wandered from one thing to the next, never lingering for long on any one thought or fantasy in particular. It was like I was channel surfing with the remote control, switching from one channel to another, each time showing something totally different. One moment I was simply concentrating on how good it felt to touch myself, then the next I imagined my finger was my dad’s hard dick trying to force itself into me, then a moment later it was my cousin’s tongue teasing my pussy, her ever-present mischievous grin on her wet face as she looked up at me from between my legs.

A few times I imagined myself at the party I was going to be at later that night, dancing sensuously in front of a dozen women or so, all them turned on and touching themselves through their clothes and even under their skirts behind their white cotton panties. I dreamed that a couple of them even stripped and got on the table with me, licking me and masturbating next to me while the others got even more turned on by the erotic display being played out right in front of them.

Suddenly my finger plunged into my pussy, surprising me as it acted as if it had a mind of its own. As wet and swollen as I was, it slide into me easily and was soon followed by a second finger. Now I needed both hands between my legs so my left hand abandoned my breast and assumed the duties of rubbing my clit while my right hand fucked my pussy. My feet were planted flat on the bed with my knees bent, allowing me to raise my hips up against my hands, eventually bouncing as if I was being fucked by one lover after another.

My first orgasm of the day struck as I imagined one of my lovers starting to cum in me, my fingers pushed hard up inside of me as I imagined they were his stiff dick as it released its load of hot cum deep inside of me. My groan would have easily been heard all through my hushed apartment as my orgasm began to fill my body with the most incredible sensations.

How can I really describe an orgasm to a man? It’s like trying to describe a color to blind man. It’s sort of like the feeling you get when a roller coaster goes over the top of the hill and begins to plunge downward. That momentary feeling you get as your car slides over the leak and suddenly drops out from under you, except in this situation that sensation kept going on and on and on. Oh god it felt so damn good! My left hand manipulated my clit as only a girl can do to herself, sustaining me on that razor sharp edge where my orgasm peaked, yet without driving me so far I would have to scream out as it overwhelmed me or worse, backing off too far to where it subsided before completely fulfilling me.

It’s what I love about masturbation, that ability to know exactly what you need at each instant, to keep yourself cumming and cumming and cumming! Thus as much as I love to be licked and touched by other people, when it comes to making me cum, it’s pretty hard to beat my own two hands - if all I want is to feel good in a purely physical manner. Overall, however, masturbation can never replace the overall experience of being fucked. It doesn’t matter that no man can make me cum by touching me as well as I can do it myself, that’s not the point when you’re having sex with someone.

Nothing can make me feel as complete as to be fucked by a man. It doesn’t matter that the physical aspect isn’t 100% as the emotional side of sex is 80% of the experience and thus easily outweighs anything I may “lose” by having someone else playing with my pussy. To sum it up, I masturbate to make myself feel good but I need sex to feel fulfilled as a woman.

After what seemed to be an eternity, I finally was so exhausted I had to stop. My bare ass crashed to the bed and my feet slipped out in front of me, leaving me lying in bed with both hands firmly cupped over my pussy, which was throbbing like a finger that had just been smashed - but with pure bliss instead of pain. Just the steady pressure of my palm against my crotch was enough to stimulate me at this point and my legs would periodically jerk involuntarily as a random bolt of sexual electricity would escape from between my legs.

Exhausted, I was panting, feeling hot and sweaty from my exertions. The afterglow of my orgasm continued to fill me, keeping my nipples hard and pointed. I could only imagine how flushed I was, my face and chest most likely beet red as if I’d just run a marathon. My eyes were shut but I wasn’t about to fall asleep, not in a million years feeling as I did now.