Disclaimers: My first attempt at anything erotic. Thanks to Sarah for suggesting the title.
Masturbation is a poor substitute for the real thing. This thought came to me as I lay in bed exhausted after an evening of passionate lovemaking.
I reflected on my years of singleness when the only sexual pleasure I ever got was at my own hands. How could I ever have thought that that was as good as it got? I know it was better than at the hands of the man I married but I didn't think it was far off the real thing.
Man was I ever wrong!
I'm not sure at which point I realised how wrong I was. Maybe it was that first touch of her fingers as they lightly stroked my breasts. Or as they trailed slowly up my thigh? Or was it when she licked my nipple and then breathed gently onto it causing my insides to shiver? Or was it that amazing feeling of naked breast on naked breast? I'm not sure, but whichever point it was I quickly found that all my expectations paled in contrast to the truth.
Lips exploring lips; tongues exploring mouths; fingers exploring skin; it was one huge burning, searing, and mind-blowing experience. I lay there remembering her touch. How my skin goose-bumped in the wake of her fingers as they caressed the length of my body, as she touched and stroked me to orgasm, again and again.
Self-pleasure was definitely nothing like the pleasure gained from another woman loving you.
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