Masturbation fiction (Post yours!)

I love exploring fantasies by writing about fictional characters and their sexual experiences (usually masturbation). Haha.

But I find it's a good thing to do because you're not comprising anyone's privacy, yet it's still enjoyable.

Here is my first real piece of masturbation fiction. It's about a young, troubled lesbian or possibly bisexual girl.

Please also let me know if you find this wrong or offensive, as the whole point of it was to be sexually satisfying/exciting but without invading anyone's privacy or being "wrong".

Ashlee sat cross-legged on her desk chair and with effort pulled off her tightly laced Converse. She slid off her studded belt and cringed at the obvious sound it made as it clinked and clunked on the floor. Ashlee double-clicked and the familiar Search page appeared, cursor blinking. She clicked on images and then rested her hand on the keyboard for a moment. Ashlee turned and looked at the closed door behind her, and the light that came from beneath it. Her younger brother Michael was still up, in the lounge room along the corridor. She bit her lip as she stayed completely silent listening for any movements in the house. It wasn’t as though she hadn’t ever caught Michael doing this before. In fact, he probably knew the best places to look.

The computer made a noise and Ashlee’s heart began to race as a single Instant Message appeared on the screen. “Suppppp?” It was her friend Sarah from Drama. Ashlee typed “Heyyy, nothing. You?” She wriggled her toes in their white socks as she waited for an answer. A big block of text appeared on the screen at once.

“Umm I’ve been doing our periods in drama assignment. It’s so lameee! Ahh. I was wondering if I could come to your place in the morning, we could do it together? Up to you =)”

Ashlee squeezed her ankles as she thought about it. She adjusted her light weight on the chair as she typed “Yeahh, sounds fine. What time?”

“Umm, is 8:00 too early?”

Ashlee looked at the computer clock; 10:48 flashed over to 10:49. It’s only Monday! She thought, a discouraged tone in her head.

“Nah that’s fine. Cya then =)” she typed, and then she unbuttoned the black jeans that clung to her legs.

“K thanks a lot. Byeeee =)” blinked the computer screen. Ashlee signed out and closed the internet browser, so that only her rainforest desktop stared back at her. She had changed her mind.

Ashlee double-clicked “My Pictures” and the folders appeared. She went into “New Years 06” and found the familiar photo.

Sarah’s drunken but youthful face beamed at her, the expression inviting as she sat lazy-legged, her skirt not even reaching her knees. Her pale underwear was visible in the bright flash of the camera.

Ashlee slid her right hand down her jeans and underwear as she stared at the point of intersection of Sarah’s thighs on her computer screen.

Ashlee caressed the familiar folds. She pinched lightly her skin and covered herself with her hand, as each finger began it’s work. Ashlee rocked back and forth slightly on the chair as she pleased herself. Her eyebrows raised and her mouth opened. She accidently made a small noise in the back of her throat. Her head wheeled around to look at the door, but of course no one had opened it. Ashlee uncrossed her legs and sat on one foot, with her other leg hanging off the chair as normal. She inhaled heavily as she fidgeted on the chair, moving the muscles in her bottom so that the chair creaked ever so slightly, almost to a perfect rhythm.

Ashlee reached over to the mouse with her left hand and cropped the image so that only Sarah could be seen. She zoomed in slightly on her thighs.

Ashlee leant her head back as her eyes became slits, and she inhaled deeply. She looked back at the screen, hair falling in her face. She moved it and bit her lip, eyebrows raising again.

Ashlee violently pulled her jeans and underwear down to her ankles, all in one rough motion. She felt the cold leather of the chare against her bare skin. She removed one leg from her pants and tucked her foot beneath herself again, feeling it edge in to position between her two cheeks. Ashlee moved up and down and backwards and forwards, resting mostly on her foot. Her right hand moved faster and harder now, free from the confines of her underwear. The sticky sound of herself seemed to fill the room, and she tried hard to contain any more noises in her throat or deep exclamations of breath. Her toes wiggled and her hair fell in her eyes again but she didn’t care.

Ashlee leant her head back, the image on the screen already burnt into her eyes, as she accidentally let out one final whimper – which was actually the result of trying not to make any noise at all. Her hand sped up and then slowed as Ashlee felt the warm rush, the movement of the muscles in what felt like all of her body. She squinted and her mouth opened. She noticed her heart beating in her ears as she felt the short, warm trail leaking on to her skin. Her right hand continued slowly and lightly, calming herself back down.

Ashlee removed her foot from under her bottom and zoomed the picture back to normal. She looked at Sarah’s face and felt humiliated, as though Sarah somehow knew what Ashlee had done.

Ashlee closed the picture angrily and turned the computer off. She reached down and removed her jeans completely from her right ankle, and left them where they lay on the floor, beneath the chair.

Ashlee pulled her underwear back up and went across to her bed, not even bothering to wipe herself of the sticky substance. She pulled on her loose-fitting, cartoon character pyjama pants and found a way into the tangle of sheets and blankets that was her unmade bed. She buried her face in the pillow for a moment, then turned to lay on her side, her fair cheek against the cold pillow.

Ashlee had trouble breathing for a moment as she felt the familiar heat rising up her throat, the heaviness and tightness of her face as she began to taste the salt of her tears. She felt her face turn hot and her cheeks darken in the pitch dark, as she shook quietly in the sheets. Ashlee reached down beneath the elastic waist band of her pyjama pants, and into her underwear, but all she felt was sweat and the sticky wetness. It was like touching shame. Ashlee caressed her skin weakly and cried silently as sleep began to envelope her.