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Amy and Rachel Do ‘That Thing’

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“Really?” Rachel wrinkled her nose and said, “You made a video?” The girls had been casually discussing what Amy referred to as, “that thing,”—masturbating— as they lazed in the hot July sun in Amy’s backyard. Rachel was wearing a purple push-up bikini top, 32B, small, from Victoria’s Secret. The bottom was what Victoria’s Secret called a “Cheeky Hipkini”, maybe because of the amount of cheeks it exposed, or the camel toe, with multicolored horizontal stripes. Her long black hair parted in the middle and framed her pretty features. “Uh-huh. More than one,” Amy said. Her bikini was bright red, “Azalea Rose” actually, with a shirred top, 32B, that she bought online at Land’s End. She wore her blonde hair in a shaggy bob, and bangs almost covered her eyes, like an adorable Skye terrier. Both girls were small-boned, slender, well groomed with clear complexions, carefully manicured nails, and the shapely firm buttocks of seventeen-year-olds, which they were. Rachel, her kaçak iddaa wide blue eyes even wider, touched her lips to conceal a tiny burp, probably from drinking carbonated cola, and said, “Oh migod! What if your parents would see them?” Amy rattled the ice cubes in her Coke, tilted her head back, and drained the glass. Drops of water dribbled off the frosty glass, making little dark spots on her bikini top. “Can’t. They don’t have my password,” she said. The girls, best friends since grade school, sweaty that humid afternoon, stretched out on beach towels on deck chairs, were discussing “that thing” when Amy, the more precocious and usually first to discover new things to try, had described to Rachel how she had been watching herself fingering on her iPad when it occurred to her that she could record it. Rachel was fascinated. Still a virgin, she loved masturbating. She had done it a few times with Amy, and once with another friend on sleepovers, but she would never kaçak bahis dream of making a video. “Want to see some?” Amy knew the rosy glow on her friend’s cheeks wasn’t sunburn—Rachel was slightly aroused. Without waiting for her to reply she said, “Let’s go up to my room.” They picked up their towels and glasses and carried them into the house. The girls were alone in the house. Amy’s parents were at work. As soon as they entered, Rachel felt the chill of the air-conditioning on her skin. She wrapped her towel like a shawl around her shoulders as she followed Amy upstairs. They sat close together on the edge of Amy’s bed. Rachel snickered in anticipation as Amy, resting the iPad on her lap, tapped the Photos icon, and thumbnails filled the screen. She watched Amy scroll the tiny images until she found the one she wanted. Amy tapped it and it swelled to a full-screen image of her, naked, shoulders propped on pillows against the top of her bed, the flowered wallpaper illegal bahis just visible above the headboard, legs spread so wide her feet disappeared off the sides of the screen, left hand frozen at her left breast and the right over her crotch. Amy deliberately extended her middle finger to tap the white triangle that hid the image of her right breast and launched the video. She turned her head to watch Rachel’s reaction. Rachel felt the hot flush spreading on her face and neck and her heart pounding against her ribs as she watched Amy’s image jolt to life. She heard the sloppy wet sounds Amy’s fingers made in her pussy. She heard Amy’s labored breathing between soft grunts as Amy circled the clit with the pad of the middle finger, probed the hole with her middle and index fingers held together, and spanked her pussy, the sharp slaps so loud that Rachel jumped. She heard Amy’s gasps and moans, saw her feet slide into view as she drew her legs up and bent her knees. Felt the heat spread through her body as her eyes drank in the sight of Amy’s clitoris standing proud, of wet fingers pushing through swollen pink pussy lips to thrust . . . oh, she could almost feel the thrusts! .

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