Mutual Masturbation

I swear that when I talked to Stephanie at work about her current book-list, I wasn't implying something out of the ordinary. I knew she enjoyed books, like I did. It was, in fact, a very innocuous question.

So when she answered that the Fifty Shades of Grey trilogy had caught her eye, I raised an eyebrow in surprise. I knew that Steph usually read only good books, and let's just say that the books in mention left a lot to desire.

"Did you come?" I joked, in reference to every orgasm the female lead had in the book, some of them even by shrugging or raising an eyebrow?

"Well not right now, but while reading the book, I actually did." She replied blushingly.

I stared at this usually quiet young girl. It was the first time I had heard something of this kind from her.

I thought that she was not particularly beautiful or elegant. Steph actually carried some extra pounds on her and was blessed (according to her) with smaller tits. She had shoulder length blonde hair, and usually sported outrageous glasses, which truthfully, not always flattered her image. I usually thought they were hideous, especially with those thick lenses. I liked her a lot however, and we had a lot in common. I grinned and left it at that.

Now I am an avid Literotica fan, and since I had made a few contributions, when I got to my desk, emailed her that I did have a story that was really good. Obviously I didn't tell her that it was mine, since I didn't want her to be embarrassed from me.

She replied that she was always up for a good read. So I just copied half of the developing story into a new document and emailed it to her. I knew that with our panic on a Friday, it would probably be a day or two before she would have time to read it.

Early the following Monday morning, it was a pleasant surprise when my aging PC pinged with an incoming mail message indication. Steph had indeed mailed the story home and read it there. I called her, knowing that since we were there so early, there would be nobody around to hear us talk.

"Hi Steph, it's me Chris. Yeah, nice and sunny today. Listen, did you like the story?"

"God, like it? I practically creamed while reading it. I, uh, actually rubbed one off to it. Who's the author? I got to have the rest of it." She answered.

She rubbed one off? It was time to take the plunge.

"Well I can send you the rest now since I have the second half of it here. I wrote it."

No preamble or mincing my words. I wanted to see where this would take us.

The silence at the end of the line was very unnerving to me at that moment.

"Hello, you still there? Steph?" I asked.

"Oh God, did I just say that I told you that I masturbated to one of your stories? What an embarrassment!" she burbled.

"Come on, it's not as if you're a kid owning up to your parents! What I want to know is if you liked it and want the second part."

"Yes, I did enjoy reading it, and would love the second part. Good thing I liked it huh?" she said.

"Wouldn't bother me none. You wouldn't be the first one. I'll send the other part this morning. I still have some writing to go into it, but hopefully I can finish it by the end of the month." I advised her.

With that we took our leave and hung up. I smiled inwardly. Could this lead to something? I was a confirmed bachelor, but was growing weary of spending evenings on my own or at the pub. I liked Stephanie a lot, and it seemed that we could get to like each other a bit more, if possible.

I mailed the complete story to Steph, and she replied immediately with a short note.

"Thanks, will read it tonight. S. xxx."

I smiled at the little crosses signifying kisses at the end of the note. Alright!

That Tuesday went by like lightning as problem after problem had to be met and tackled head-on, and it was late afternoon by the time I eventually sat at my desk. I took a look at the mailbox, but apart from the sundry mails, did not find one from Stephanie. I shutdown the computer and made my way home.

Home was my bachelor's pad slap-bang in the middle of the town nearby, a cluttered building hemmed in by high-rise buildings. Although well-furnished with all amenities, I always looked at it as a temporary solution, which solution I had naturally never found. A microwave dinner (I was an expert), a shower, and an early night in bed with a good book completed my ritual for that day.

The final chapters of the book kept me up late, so it was with a shock to wake up and find that it was already past seven. This meant that I had to skip breakfast, and take my bicycle to work. It was already gridlocked by that time, so the bike was the quickest option.

I punched in just in time (although in reality I had no need to be careful, being on flexi-time) , and after locking the bike to a railing, made my way to the office. The computer took its time booting up, and when the mail program finally loaded, I was rewarded with the top line indicating a message from Stephanie.

I looked at the screen apprehensively before clicking on the header.

"OMG Chris. It's incredible. You had me gasping all throughout. I need an ending now. S. xxx."

Those three little crosses again.

Clicking on the reply button, I answered her.

"Thanks for liking it. I still have to come up with an ending that will satisfy readers and make sense of it all yet."

I sent the answer, the little envelope gliding away. Barely a minute had passed before I got an answer.

"Would you consider collaboration? I have some good ideas on how it should end. S. xxx."

I could hardly breathe as I read the line. I couldn't imagine what dirty deeds Steph could come up with.

"Sure. Mail your suggestions over. Chris." Send.

The answer was prompt.

"Mail them over? Are you mad? Bring your notebook tonight with you. Meet at BHS around 7. Bike. Dinner at my place. S. xxx."

I sighed. This WAS going somewhere else. I asked her whether there was someplace I could lock my bike.

"No worries, we'll bring it up via the freight elevator. See you. S. xxx."

The day passed quickly enough, and soon it was time to pack up and go home. I saw Steph pass in front of my office, blowing a kiss from the palm of her hand. I smiled in anticipation. If only I could play my cards right, I thought. And if only she'd throw away those hideous spectacles.

Half-past-six saw me applying the last of the after-shave balsam on to my face and spreading the extra lotion on my arms. I dragged some gel through my hair, noticing that I needed a haircut. I wore my favorite cargo shorts over sandals and a white Chinese-collar shirt.

I wondered what to take with me, and I decided to take that Sauvignon I had been saving for a special occasion. I figured this was one of them. I checked my PowerBook to see that it held enough charge, decided it would keep for another three hours of work, and packed it in my backpack, together with the wine.

With ten minutes to spare, I wheeled my ancient Raleigh bicycle down the steps and rode it to the BHS, just five minutes away. I noted with surprise that Steph was already there, leaning against a bicycle herself. For some reason, I never imagined her as a biker, but as she hopped on her faded and chipped road-bike, I could see from her stance and alertness that she was an experienced rider.

She greeted me warmly, fluorescent yellow helmet firmly stuck on her head, and sporting a beautiful pair of Oakley sunglasses. I could only guess at what they cost. She motioned for me to follow her.

It was a ten minute ride through busy traffic before we eventually turned into a small lane and up to what I always thought to be a warehouse. Steph dismounted in front of the door, and after unlocking it, we wheeled our bikes through what actually turned out to be a large garage. We made our way to a squirrel-cage elevator, wheeled our bikes inside and rode up slowly to the seventh floor.

Stephanie removed her helmet while we were still grinding our way slowly up, hair tumbling shinily onto her shoulders. Why did I ever think she wasn't beautiful? Where had her prescription glasses gone? I had never noticed how pale blue her eyes were before. I guessed she was wearing contacts. I took my helmet off, ruffling my hair slightly, and took in my surroundings, presently constricted by the steel mesh of the elevator.

"Wow, I never imagined you lived here. What is this place?" I asked.

"Well it was a warehouse, as you can tell, but my father bought it and turned it into a two story holding garage. All the cars you see are new, never been on the road, and belong to the many dealers scattered in this town and the next. As you can imagine, security is extremely tight, and it is very safe here. Dad gave me the topmost floor for my own use. Ah, here we are."

The lift shuddered to a halt, and I stared in amazement at Steph's place. It was a converted loft, with just a huge open space, leading to an open terrace that looked out onto the rolling countryside. After leaving the bike in the lift, I made my way to the open terrace, mouth open. The terrace was easily larger than my apartment, tiled in terracotta, plants dotting the perimeter, and with an open hot-tub sheltered by one side of the walls. A small table with four chairs and a large sofa-swing completed the terrace. It was extremely private, and very quiet. I would kill for a place like this.

I turned to take in the rest of the place. It was absolutely stunning. A small kitchen adorned the opposite wall, with clean and simple lines, everything built into the units. A small table, seating four, but presently set-up for two lay just a ways from the kitchen area. A huge TV took up another bit of wall, with a large sofa and beautiful all-glass table in front of it.

The sleeping area was a raised platform halfway up the wall, reachable by a short flight of steps. The bed was a strange affair, probably motorized. I noticed that a small TV was mounted opposite the bed, and halfway up the ceiling. Various openings in the wall held hand-creams, lotions and a number of bottles, presumably perfume. What woman would be without perfume?

All in all the whole apartment inspired quiet confidence and calm.

"This is absolutely beautiful." I finally muttered to no-one in particular, but knowing Stephanie would hear me.

"Good to know. Now chop-chop, go wash you hands, dinner's ready."

"It sure smells good. I am, truthfully, famished." I said, handing her the wine.

"Goody, my favorite. Sauvignon." Stephanie smiled as she shooed me towards the bathroom.

I washed my hands and face, fixing my hair in the mirror(who said we men weren't vain?), and fluffing my shirt a bit. The short bike ride had elicited little sweat from me, so there was no real problem with body odor.

I went out into the direction of the kitchen area, and offered to help her, but Stephanie refused, instructing me to just sit down and enjoy the cocktail already on the table. In a moment she was back with a small bowl of soup. I loved soup, and I especially loved pea and potato soup. So it was with no little pleasure that the first course was exactly that. We usually talked a lot between us at work, so I was pretty sure that she knew my preference beforehand.

Stephanie brought two plates and ladled some of the thick liquid into mine, and some into hers. A little salt and pepper, and we were all set. It was heavenly, and we ate in silence while we looked at each other over the dancing candle lights.

This date (if you could call meeting to write steamy erotica a date), was getting weirder every minute. Naturally, I was enjoying it, but was absolutely not what I was expecting. Who could have imagined little old Steph having such refined tastes?

Soup over, the second plate was a good old rib-eye steak, oven-cooked with carrots, peas and roasted potatoes. Definitely carb-heavy, but with all the biking I did, it was not a problem.

"Thanks, this is lovely." I assured her.

"My pleasure." Steph answered, as she put a basket of piping hot crusty bread on the table.

More carbs. Great.

We made some small talk during the meal, but nothing that would detract from the pure pleasure of well-cooked food. Finally I sighed as I pushed back my plate, fully satisfied.

"That was absolutely brilliant. Many thanks. I sure needed that. Been pigging out on too many TV meals or at the canteen lately."

"I simply love cooking." Stephanie replied with a smile. "The pity is that I don't get to do too much of it. Sometimes it's just not worth the effort when you're eating alone, with only the company of an old cat."

"Yeah, well, whenever you feel the urge to cook, just send a message, and I'll come over to help you share the food." I pointed out slyly.

I'm sure she took the comment well enough. I went on with another question.

"Are you wearing contact lenses? And are they colored? The color is extremely different to what I see you in usually."

"Oh, these. I am wearing contacts in fact, and no, to your second question, I'm not wearing tints. They're natural. Somehow, and I cannot explain why, the color loses itself behind glasses."

I wasn't satisfied and asked her another question.

"Why don't you wear contacts to work? I honestly hate those awful specs you wear. No offense." I told her quietly.

She answered that she was afraid that men would pay more attention to her and make her uncomfortable, and that she felt safe in the knowledge that nobody took notice of her.

"Except you..." she said quietly. "You're my only friend there."

I reached across and took her hands in mine.

"Listen to me. No, don't just listen, look at me."

Stephanie raised her head and just as her eyes came into view, I nearly melted.

"Steph, listen to me. You are beautiful. You are absolutely beautiful. I have never noticed it before, especially when you tie your hair in a bun and hide behind spectacles. But more importantly, your heart is beautiful. You have nothing to be wary of at work. I am, and will be, your friend forever."

I let the meaning linger as I grasped her hand in mine and pressed it gently.

She smiled at me, and the flutters my heart was doing would do justice to a decent butterfly.

"Let's clean up." I told her.

"We just need to chuck them into the dishwasher. No big deal. You take the glasses and the wine onto the terrace. Here, use these sliders." She said as she handed me three cork flat squares.

I sauntered over to the open-air terrace, set the glasses and the wine on the sliders, and gathered my notebook from my bag. As I set it down and booted it up, I walked to the railing and leaned on it, savoring the fresh country smell wafting over from the Eastern part of town, as the sun set over the day. I was still deep in thought and did not even hear Stephanie as she walked up beside me and leaned over the railing too, her head resting on my upper arm.

"Isn't it beautiful?" she asked.

"It sure is." I sighed in response, although in truth, I was looking at the top of her head.

She must have caught my meaning as she lifted her head, and in that brief moment of realization, blushed deeply. I never wanted anything more beautiful or sensual than this girl standing beside me during the sunset.

I raised my hand over her shoulder, and then, when she did not protest, laid it behind her neck and pulled her head to me.

She closed her eyes in anticipation, and as our lips met, an electric current flew through me, setting all my zones on fire. I felt woozy as the emotion flowed back and forth between us. We embraced, letting our unspoken wanting to manifest itself in such a simple act as a kiss.

Finally we drew back, breathless, both from lack of air, and from the bevy of emotions running through us.

"Wow!" I breathed.

"Yeah...wow! You are a good kisser." She replied.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to...uh... you know. It just seemed the natural thing to do." I tried to explain.

"Don't be sorry. I'm glad it happened. Super glad."

We hugged each other again, fiercely this time. Finally she led me to the sofa-swing, and we fell onto it in a frenzy, hugging and kissing each other as if there was no tomorrow.

I swear I have no idea how it happened, but suddenly I found that my palm was cupping her left breast, my thumb grazing her taut nipple, while she moaned in my mouth, pulling me to her via my hair. I took this as encouragement, and continued my ministrations on her beautifully shaped breast. Finally she pushed me away.

"Oh God. Stop. You almost made me come." She panted.

"I apologize, I don't know what came over me. I lost all control. I better leave." I said quietly.

"The only way you'd leave here now, would be in a casket, or over the railing. I only asked you to stop so we can be more comfortable." Steph explained.

She flipped the sofa back, turning it into a double bed, and locked the swing from the top. Finally she doused the lights, leaving only the God-given light of the twinkling stars over the night.

Eventually, she turned to me and started unbuttoning her shirt before I stopped her.

"Let me. Please." I begged.

I raised my hands and fumbled at her shirt, removing the buttons one by one, letting my hands roam over the silky flesh, nipping a kiss here and there, while she practically became putty in my hands. Finally all the buttons were undone, and I slipped just the top part over her shoulders, raining little kisses all over, before finally exposing her braless left breast and suckled on her nipple, hardening it and turning her skin into goose bumps. She shivered and pulled me closer, willing me to her other breast.

I slid my way lower still, down to her sweatpants, hanging below her navel. I pulled her pants lower and lower, with not a hair disturbing a most beautiful body. Finally her little shaved slit appeared, all glistening and wet. I slipped out my tongue and made contact with it.

Her body arched sharply, while she hissed like a snake about to attack an enemy. I pulled the rest of her pants down and over her ankles, and as I threw them aside, I took a sharp breath as I saw her body. She was absolutely beautiful. Flesh in the right places, all curvy and feminine.

Steph spread her legs wide and guided me to her secret place again. I raised her legs upwards, and licked from the bottom upwards. She squealed in delight. I explored her deepest folds, glistening with sweat and fragrant oils. I nibbled at her clitoris, small but hard, before sucking it in between my lips.

I'm sure that this was what pushed her over the edge as she locked her legs around my head and bucked with the intense pleasure of her orgasm, screaming loudly. I swear I nearly died from lack of air, such was the length of her pleasure.

Finally she slumped back, legs splayed unashamedly open, eyes wide, tears streaming down her face, and panting with exertion.

"Thank you thank you thank you. That was marvelous. Oh God. How is it possible to have so much pleasure?" she mumbled.

I crawled over her, still fully clothed as I kissed her deeply, drinking from her soul.

Raising her hands, she opened my shirt and I took it off, throwing it somewhere along the terrace floor. Stephanie rubbed her hands over my hairless chest before grasping both my nipples, making me gasp. They became instantly hard, and she was onto them in a flash, nibbling and licking, turning my legs into jelly.

A moment later she was opening my shorts button and zippering down. I kicked off my shoes, and the shorts, leaving me only in my boxers, with no hope of hiding anything.

The boxers were off in a flash, and she exclaimed as she saw my tool, not excessively large, but good enough to do the job.

"Oh my God, it's beautiful, and just the right size." She cooed over it, tentatively licking at the head.

I was sprawled over the sofa, all kinds of emotions running through me. Stephanie licked and slobbered all over the shaft before taking me in her mouth. She was a good cocksucker, insofar as much I knew about cocksucking. Well, she was pleasuring me most expertly.