We went to bed, but Lo was unsettled. She was restless. She had a lot of nervous, pent-up energy that she needed to expel. It was already a quarter of twelve and the next day it was back to the work-a-day-world. But she couldn’t fall asleep. She reached over to grab her trusty sleep-inducing tool — her favorite one — and after a while of fondling my sleeping giant to an erection, she began touching herself next to me. Honestly, though my flesh was willing, my mind was dosing. She brought herself to climax. But she wasn’t done. She took out her phone and watched a video, stimulating herself with her hand till she came again. That made two. It was now twelve-thirty. I was in and out of sleep, but couldn’t fall into a deep sleep due to the rhythmically rocking bed. She began texting and masturbating till I heard her moan in ecstasy again. That made three. I finally fell off to the world of dreams. The next morning she admitted that she came a fourth time after I was fast asleep.
Later that day, when I checked our joint e-mail account, I realized, she hadn’t been texting. She was using her phone to chat with Sylvia as I slept. The chat went something like this:
- You awake? I see you’re on line. . .
- I thought you’d never get back. Where are you?
- We’re home. HH is asleep next to me. I’m so randy.
- Me too. Lo I missed you so.
- I haven’t been this randy in ages. I just can’t get enough.
- Same here. Tell me a bedtime story.
- What do you want to know?
- Something about you and another woman.
- Hmmmm. Ok, I’ve got sort of a story for you.
- I can’t wait!!!
- When I was in high school I was a naughty girl. I remember at one point in the year we had a mandatory swimming class and all of us girls had to get naked in the locker room and put on our bathing suits. There was one classmate of mine, Brianna, who drove me wild. I was a quiet, introspective, nerdy student and she was your typical popular, long blond hair, cheerleader type. She actually was a cheerleader. I used to dream of getting up under her short cheerleading skirt and having my way with that golden fleece of hers. And then, lucky me, in my junior year, she was in my gym class. So, for this swimming component I got to see her get undressed — her perky little breasts, her sweet little ass, her well-groomed goldilocks below. I remember watching her among all the other naked girls and it was as if they all faded out of focus and a spotlight was fixed on Brianna. She glowed. She glimmered. She glistened. That first day when I saw her naked there I couldn’t move. I was frozen. Paralyzed with bliss. My heart pounded and palpitated as I stared at her. . . until I became so self-conscious of my gawking that I turned away and stared directly at my locker. I felt myself tingling and growing wet as I stood there, stunned, thinking what to do. I sat down and turned to the left to watch her put on her bathing suit. I knew I couldn’t possibly go swimming, so I spoke to the gym teacher and said I had my period. She excused me from class that day. After everyone cleared out of the locker room, I stayed behind and went into the stall where I pulled down my soaking panties and fondled myself until I came. I tried to stifle my voice, but I just couldn’t. I screamed and it reverberated through the empty tiled room. I pulled up my panties and my jeans and went to exit the stall when, who should I see waiting outside in the locker room but my gym teacher! She looked at me and I panicked for a moment, but just a moment. I grew flush, but my wits were about me and I grabbed my waist and said, “My cramps are killing me today.”
- Did she know?!
- I don’t know, but I knew that moment I could never be on a sports team.
[Excerpt from the story, “Caught in a Cliché,” from the blog: mysexlifewithlola.com]