Clothed masturbation Stories

The first was on the hotel balcony, the second on the coastal road in the car, the third at a drive-in cinema, and now here I was in my seat on an overnight flight back home. All I could feel was hubby's fingers inside my shorts and knickers gently stroking my clit. The lights were low, and I had the blanket over my lap. All I could see was the regular movements under the blanket, and all I could feel was my fast-approach...

Your father is taking me to Chicago for a long weekend,” his mother explained. "Cool. You guys will have a blast.” “Will you be ok?” she asked, concerned. “Oh, sure. Is it ok if I go to the movies?” Allen asked. “Yes. Remember, your curfew is midnight. Not one minute later!” She held her index finger up with a warning wag. Mrs. McCall kissed his cheek, stood up, and left the room. Allen popped his headphones back on and r...

The heat radiating off her thigh was unbearable, like standing too close to a roaring furnace. It seeped through my jeans where our legs touched, a silent invitation that screamed louder than words. The room was suffocatingly still, the kind of silence that thickens the air, making every breath feel heavy. Then she moved. Her hand slid down her stomach with surgical precision, disappearing beneath the waistband of those t...