Masturbate for Me - Cover

Masturbate for Me

by Blowjob Suzuki

Copyright© 2020 by Blowjob Suzuki

Erotica Sex Story: He gets caught while masturbating to her nude beach vacation photos, but she doesn't mind. Not so long as he does one thing for her.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Interracial   White Male   Oriental Female   Exhibitionism   Masturbation   Voyeurism   Nudism   .

I couldn’t sleep. I lay awake in bed, trying to will myself into a deep slumber, but I couldn’t manage it. It was already one in the morning, but my body wasn’t the least bit tired. I knew I should be. I knew I’d be tired the next day if I didn’t sleep soon. But I had too much energy right now. I sighed. I might as well get out of bed. Staying here wasn’t accomplishing anything. Maybe I could find something to read.

I got up, put on some boxers in case my roommate Hannah woke up, went out to the living room, and made my way to the bookshelf. I grabbed a graphic novel off the shelf and sat down with it, the lights on low, letting my brain relax as I read about haunted hotels and amusingly incompetent demons. And yet, my body remained alert. Always when you didn’t want it...

I put the volume back on the shelf and slid my hand through the air down the assorted spines, looking for something that might interest me, when something new caught my eye. I pulled the colorful, squat, thick book off the shelf. The multicolored title read, “Hannah’s Caribbean Vacation,” arching above a turquoise sea, a sandy beach, and tropical fruit emojis scattered about. That’s right, she had gone a few months back with some friends, returning smiling and sunkissed. She must have made an album out of it.

I hesitated a moment, wondering whether I should look through it. It felt somewhat invasive, but it was on the communal bookshelf. I carried it back to the couch and flipped it open, my eyes glancing from photo to photo.

There was Hannah on the deck of a cruise ship, something colorful and presumably alcoholic in her hand, a book beside her, as she smiled at the camera. There she was dolled up at the casino, her black hair luscious and sleek, her dark brown eyes twinkling, her lips in burgundy lipstick that matched her dress perfectly. I wondered whether she gambled, putting everything on red at the roulette wheel just for the thrill of it, squealing in elation as she unexpectedly won.

I leafed through the pages. Her at restaurants, at beaches, at little shops. Her and her friends smiling together. Photos of apparently every meal she ate the entire trip, and possibly others’ meals, too, considering how many there were.

I flipped the page.

My eyes widened.

My chest tightened.

I blinked a few times, making sure I wasn’t seeing things.

There was Hannah, sunbathing on the beach, lying face-up on her towel, wearing a pair of red sunglasses, a beaming smile, and nothing else. My heart raced as I engulfed her naked body, exposed to the sun, the beach-goers, and myself. My whole body felt electrified at the sight of my roommate, my friend, completely naked. Someone I had known for years, innocently, platonically, albeit sometimes idly wondering what she looked like nude, and now suddenly her entire body lay open to my gaze. Those barely-there breasts that she so assiduously covered up at home were round and petite, yet still full and shapely, tipped with small, brown nipples that poked out proudly. Her lithe, tanned body, proof that this wasn’t some once off experiment, but a habit. Her pussy, shaved completely smooth, her dark pink lips small and delicate.

I couldn’t tear my eyes away, compelled to consume the image before me with my eyes, desperately committing it to memory lest it suddenly vanish and turn to dust. I couldn’t believe that Hannah, innocent, good girl Hannah Kim, had stripped naked in public. Hell, she had made a photo album of it. Clearly I had some incorrect preconceptions about her.

I wondered how she had ended up in such a situation. She had only the faintest of tan lines. This clearly wasn’t her first time. Had she and her friends stumbled across the beach and decided when in Rome, only to discover they loved it, converting on the spot? Had some of their cruise companions whispered about it at dinner, piquing their curiosity? Had it been part of their itinerary the entire time, a day devoted to a nude beach? The thought of Hannah knowing the entire time that she was going to strip naked and brazenly bare her body on the beach ... god, it made my whole body tingle. My hand drifted down to my boxers, my cock hard and throbbing, straining to escape against the fabric. Even the gentle touch of my fingertips along my shaft made my body quiver, the sensation electric.

I turned the page and couldn’t restrain my smile at the sight of more of her. Hannah stood on the shoreline, glasses on her forehead, her hair in a sporty ponytail, that same beaming smile as she looked over her shoulder at the camera, her surprisingly round ass just begging for a firm spank, her long back inviting me to caress and massage her muscles.

And on the opposite page, her in the water up to her waist, her dark, berryesque nipples visibly erect, her wet hair cascading down her shoulders like a waterfall of ink as her crescent eyes crinkled in joy. Her pure happiness was impossible to miss. I couldn’t see the slightest bit of embarrassment or modesty in her face or form. She looked so purely joyful, like Eve must have in Eden, before the shame of nudity even existed.

I couldn’t believe I was seeing my roommate’s body so exposed like this. I felt guilt, but my raging cock urged me on, compelling me to keep looking through the pages, overriding any rational thought. I delved my hand into my boxers and pulled out my throbbing cock, my head pink and swollen and engorged, my shaft shining and thick and veined. I began stroking my cock as I stared at Hannah’s naked photos, studying the way her prominent collarbones bordered her neck, the way her ribs curved atop her sleek, toned stomach, the way her breasts changed shape as she stood and reclined and ran.

My cock tingled with growing pleasure. Every stroke brought me inexorably closer to an imminent orgasm. I settled on the first photo I had seen of her and focused on her body as my hand gripped my cock tightly and pumped away. I spread my legs and leaned back, my eyes riveted to Hannah, imagining how glorious she would have appeared in person, how I could have watched her nipples stiffen in the ocean breeze, how I could have finagled my way into offering to apply her sunscreen for her, acting as casually as I could as my hands caressed her thighs and ass and breasts, how I would have held her tightly in the ocean, surreptitiously sneaking myself into her in front of everyone.

I knew I was close. I held my cock tightly with one hand and began to slowly rub against the underside of my shaft with the back of my hand, oh so gently coaxing a bigger and better climax out of my body, my breath fast and shallow, my eyes closed, my pleasure growing and growing, pressure building against the dam of my self control, just moments from that moment when it became too much and...

I moaned. My cock spasmed in my hand. My orgasmed gushed out of me, thick and ivory, onto the floor beneath. All of the fantasies and friction I had been enjoying were concentrating into one singular moment of ecstasy, bursting forth from me, overwhelming me. I felt like I might black out as cum spurting out of me, eventually slowing to a trickle and then stopping entirely.

The sudden dousing of my flames of lust left me with a clear head in need of sleep. Looking at Hannah’s photos now, I felt some slight chagrin at what I had just done, and a dash of worry at how it might affect how I saw her tomorrow. But it was too late to put that particular sticky genie back in the bottle. I cleaned up my mess and returned the photo album to the shelf, got into bed, and slept peacefully.

I woke up refreshed and reinvigorated. The next day proceeded as usual, until a little after lunch, when I was playing a game on the couch. Hannah walked past, and I couldn’t help but mentally remove her clothes, substituting the golden-peach curves I knew lay underneath for the modest and concealing lines of her outfit. I wondered how her breasts jiggled as she walked. They had looked perfectly perky in those photos.

She walked behind me and leaned over the couch, watching me play. After a minute or two, she asked, “Thomas, were you jacking off to me last night?”

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