Was I into that? The thought of someone at home while I was working, someone who would be… ugh… in need of attention when I got back? I wasn’t into dating. And definitely not into… all of that. But there had to be a reason that wouldn’t get out of my head. Her eyes and that… that fucking… head tilt. What was it about that gesture?
I’ve been waiting so long…
Yeah, so had I. Clearly too long. Not the… dry spell. Sex was inconvenient to say the least. But the, uh… it had been a long time since I’d… taken care of… myself. I thought I’d matured out of it.
Dammit, dammit, dammit. This was my punishment for not respecting her privacy. I had to… clear my mind. Get this itch scratched and dealt with, handle the situation so that I could focus on work and family, handle what came next, forget aboutthis whole thing. Just one minute to attend to things and help myself… move on.
I let out a shaky breath as I reached down along my body, and I felt a flush of self-consciousness as I touched my thighs, but it was nothing compared to the heat that jolted through me. The sheer amount of arousal.
Itwasn’tfrom Bridget. I wasn’t thinking about her. It had just been her page that had… reminded me I needed to… occasionally attend to these things.
She’d—she’d been using this room as her bedroom before. Had she… taken pictures in here too? Were there pictures on there of herself in this room with her… body… on display?
I’ve been waiting so long for you to get home, baby…
Fuck me, I was going off the deep end. Was it that I liked porn now? I’d tried watching a few videos when I was an overly hormonal teenager, but it was very obviously made for straight men, and I’d never been able to enjoy it. I’d just watched it because it was… transgressive, and I enjoyed the taboo of it. I’d never once felt the urge after that to watch porn. But I couldn’t get the video out of my head, and the frustrating part was that the more it refused to leave my head, the more I… tingled, buzzed, in my… well, between my thighs.
I swore silently as I slipped my hand into my underwear and felt the mess I’d made, and the sheer amount of pleasure and… and…reliefthat flooded through me just at the touch. I moaned quietly, trying to bite it back but there was only so much I could do, as I moved my fingers against myself, and the sight of Bridget in the damn video was impossible to get out of my head.
Okay, I guess, new year new me. It wasn’t the new year yet. I’d always been an early go-getter. Shit. I fumbled out of bed to grab my laptop, and I propped it up on my stomach with my hand settling between my legs, and I existed in a furious state of denial that any of this was happening as I opened a privatewindow and fumbled for words as I searched for… well… I searched for porn. Lesbian porn? Was that less likely to be made for straight men?
I felt like an alien navigating to a video, and I cringed at an ad that popped up. Based on the ad that promised I could, quote,get my dick sucked today,it didn’t seem likely I was the target audience. One minute of the video was enough to confirm that. I felt dirty for having watched it, and I felt like I was losing the mood even though something in me still desperately needed the release. Another video turned out to be just as bad, and I almost gave up before Bridget’s goddamn video popped uninvited back into my head, those fuckingeyes,and that fucking head-tilt gesture.
I’ve been waiting so long for you to get home, baby…
Oh my god. I was never going to get this video out of my head. I had to dosomethingor the curiosity would kill me.
I felt the heat building up instantly between my legs again as I navigated shakily back to Bridget’s page—back to peachykeen’s page, where everyone seemed to refer to her as Peachy and her real name was nowhere to be seen. Why the hell would she use her real name? She didn’t want people she knew in real life to be tracking her down. Didn’t want sick perverts to look at her videos while being friends with her.
I’d barely gotten back onto her page before I was soaking fucking wet, and my fingers felt electric against myself, and I found myself entering that state where I couldn’t really care—the worse the thing I was doing, the better—and I scrolled to the video, my hand shaking as I hit play. I moaned involuntarily as that view came back on—her against the kitchen counter, grinding as she gavethatlook into the camera.
“Oh, fuck,” I whispered, moving my fingers faster. I was… masturbating. Watching Bridget. Shit.
Her lips moved, but she was on mute, and I paused the video—Ineededto hear that line just so I could get it out of my head—I grabbed my headphones, fumbled them in with one hand, and I rewound it to listen to the line.
“Hey, beautiful,” she said, and I felt a shudder run through me. This was just for tonight. From tomorrow on, I’d be normal. This was something I had to get out of my system. “I’ve been waiting so long for you to get home, baby…”
My pulse pounded as the video moved further along than it had gotten before. She hooked her fingers into her panties, hips gyrating in wider circles, and she pulled her camisole up, not enough to show her breasts but enough I couldn’t take my eyes off her.
“I’ve been so horny thinking about you,” she said, and I bit my lip hard. “Did work go well today?” She giggled shyly. “I couldn’t get much done. I was so distracted… I even thought about calling you, but I didn’t want to interrupt you.”
I didn’t think masturbating had ever felt like this before—felt like I’d melt just from the touch, like it was a direct closed circuit from… fromthere,to my brain, to my fingertips, to every pleasurable nerve ending in my body. Bridget’s eyes on the video were hypnotic, so big and so blue and so… so…
“But you’re home now… so… let me treat you for a day of hard work?” she said, pushing the band of her panties down—not all the way, but enough that I broke, and I gasped as I went over the edge, orgasm throbbing through my body and erupting under my fingers. I cried out loudly as I came, my back arching, my hips pressing against my hand without me meaning to—body losing control as I ground against myself, Bridget still teasing on the video—fuck me, I felt like I saw the face of God. I’d never come half as hard in my life.
And I’d never felt half as guilty about it. As soon as I came down from the rush of the orgasm, I felt cold in my face asI stopped the video, closed the window, and I shut my laptop, setting it down by my bed and staring up at the ceiling.
I’d just masturbated to a video of my roommate. The one I was taking to see my family tomorrow.
Shit. There was something very wrong with me.
And the worst part was that I didn’t even regret it the way I was supposed to. I knew I should have, and I felt horrible and I felt guilty, but part of me wondered what else was on her page for nonsubscribers. Wondered if she’d know if I signed up.
“Jesus, Victoria, get a grip,” I said shakily, taking my hand back out of my underwear. Completely covered. Had I been that deprived?
It wasn’t about Bridget. It had just been about… sexuality in general. Seeing her own that sexuality, when I’d been so repressed and shut down about it, had awakened something in me that I’d just now taken care of. That was all.
Just now taken care of. So there was no reason for me to be lying there thinking about that office-worker erotic audio, wondering what she sounded like in it.
