In The Pink

Brenda taught me everything I needed to know about chocolate and orgasms.
We met when I was thirteen. Brenda was only two years older then me, but my parents wouldn’t leave me home alone. I would have resented having a babysitter since I was one myself, if it had been anyone but Brenda. She was cool and didn’t treat me like a child. We both loved chocolate, pink lipstick, pink nail polish, and Rock an’ Roll. We talked about everything, shared our secrets and dreams, and quickly became inseparable, best friends.
When she started dating, I didn’t see her as often; but, we still spoke on the phone daily. The summer I turned eighteen, Brenda received a scholarship to Stanford and moved away.
I was so excited when she called one evening. “Would you like to visit before classes start?”
“I’d love to. What should I pack? Will we be going out?”
“Of course. Bring something sexy.”
I drove up the following Monday, and after we were ready for bed talked nonstop until 3:00.
“Are you serious? You’re dating a musician?” Brenda said musician the way Paris Hilton would say Wal-Mart.
I glared at her, “I think he’s cute, and I only dated him once.”
“I’m only gone a few weeks and already your love life is a mess.” She laughed.
“What love life?” I moaned.
“Speaking of your love life,” Brenda asked, “I heard you earlier in the shower. Do you masturbate often?”
“You did?” I blushed, my cheeks burning from embarrassment. “I’m sorry…”
“Don’t be silly,” she smiled. “There’s no reason for you to apologize. I understand.”
Attempting to free me of quilt she confided, “I do it almost everyday.”
I would have preferred she change the subject, but instead she asked, “Do you own any toys?”
“What do you mean toys?” I replied.
“You know, vibrators, dildos, stuff like that.”
“No, but I’ve read about them. Do you?”
Brenda answered by reaching into her nightstand and removing a slender, pink vibrator.
With a grin she asked, “Would you like me to show you how it works?
“N-no.” I stammered. “I’m kind of tired. I forgot to brush my teeth.” I jumped up and rushed into the bathroom.
Once safe, I leaned back against the closed door thinking:
Why’d I do that? I should have stayed. I wanted to. I just couldn’t.

* * *
I arrived home late Sunday night, to an empty house. My parent’s were in Vegas at a convention. When I opened my suitcase I found a box of my favorite candy. Instead of Swiss Pralines it contained a cherry-pink vibrator, extra batteries and a note:
I know I embarrassed you. So here’s a little ‘I’m
sorry’ gift, I’m certain you will enjoy this more than chocolate.
Call me.
I took a bath after I unpacked and chided myself:
Who am I kidding? I’ve hardly thought of anything else but Brenda’s vibrator. I have the house to myself. This is the perfect opportunity.
I remained nude after I dried myself and laid down on my bed. I drew my knees upwards, pressed them to my shoulders. I parted the already swollen folds with one hand and guided the tip of the vibrator inside with the other.
I brushed a fingertip against my clitoris while rubbing rhythmically in circles. I slowly slid the pink vibrator deep. I was wet with anticipation and it glided in and out so deliciously. The cool, plastic-fantastic ribbing created the most exquisite feelings.
I turned the dial to the lowest setting and the vibrations began.
Oh My God it’s like an orgasm switch.
I exposed my engorged clit and tapped it in sync with the pounding of my heart. I increased the speed of the vibrator. Shockwaves of pleasure swam throughout my body.
I struggled to keep myself from coming. I sensed an electric climax building within me as another surge shivered up my spine. The sensitivity of my clit increased to the point of madness and I was tempted to finish myself off quickly, but didn’t.
My lips formed an Ooooohh and I cooed softly to the feel of the heavenly vibrations. Nearing the point of no return; my sphincter clenched, my pussy spasmed, still I resisted.
I didn’t come. Instead I screamed, “No!”
I clamped my legs shut, and turned off the vibrator.
When I had regained my self control, I turned the vibe to the highest setting and ran two fingers across my feverish, pulsing clitoris. I shivered continuously, my body awash with pleasure, ecstasy loomed ahead. My desire overrode my guilt; all my embarrassing inhibitions were gone. I threw my head back and cried out until I was hoarse.
“This feels so good! Soooooo good!”
A tremor crashed through me, time vanished and my eyes rolled up inside my head. I trembled with wanton fervor, the intensity of my orgasm blurring my senses. I couldn’t distinguish between pulses emanating from the vibrator, and my own, quivering pussy and clit.
I bit my lip, unable to stifle a squeal.
“Oh My God, thank you!”
I continued to writhe as my orgasm intensified; my entire body shook as I came repeatedly. I exploded into a torrent of liquid rapture.
After I caught my breath, I dialed Brenda’s number. Before I could say a word, I heard her giggle, “You’re welcome. It’s even better then chocolate, isn’t it?”

* * *

by Nyna Wolfe
© 2007, all rights reserved

In The Pink

Brenda taught me everything I needed to know about chocolate and orgasms.
We met when I was thirteen. Brenda was only two years older then me, but my parents wouldn’t leave me home alone. I would have resented having a babysitter since I was one myself, if it had been anyone but Brenda. She was cool and didn’t treat me like a child. We both loved chocolate, pink lipstick, pink nail polish, and Rock an’ Roll. We talked about everything, shared our secrets and dreams, and quickly became inseparable, best friends.
When she started dating, I didn’t see her as often; but, we still spoke on the phone daily. The summer I turned eighteen, Brenda received a scholarship to Stanford and moved away.
I was so excited when she called one evening. “Would you like to visit before classes start?”
“I’d love to. What should I pack? Will we be going out?”
“Of course. Bring something sexy.”
I drove up the following Monday, and after we were ready for bed talked nonstop until 3:00.
“Are you serious? You’re dating a musician?” Brenda said musician the way Paris Hilton would say Wal-Mart.
I glared at her, “I think he’s cute, and I only dated him once.”
“I’m only gone a few weeks and already your love life is a mess.” She laughed.
“What love life?” I moaned.
“Speaking of your love life,” Brenda asked, “I heard you earlier in the shower. Do you masturbate often?”
“You did?” I blushed, my cheeks burning from embarrassment. “I’m sorry…”
“Don’t be silly,” she smiled. “There’s no reason for you to apologize. I understand.”
Attempting to free me of quilt she confided, “I do it almost everyday.”
I would have preferred she change the subject, but instead she asked, “Do you own any toys?”
“What do you mean toys?” I replied.
“You know, vibrators, dildos, stuff like that.”
“No, but I’ve read about them. Do you?”
Brenda answered by reaching into her nightstand and removing a slender, pink vibrator.
With a grin she asked, “Would you like me to show you how it works?
“N-no.” I stammered. “I’m kind of tired. I forgot to brush my teeth.” I jumped up and rushed into the bathroom.
Once safe, I leaned back against the closed door thinking:
Why’d I do that? I should have stayed. I wanted to. I just couldn’t.

* * *
I arrived home late Sunday night, to an empty house. My parent’s were in Vegas at a convention. When I opened my suitcase I found a box of my favorite candy. Instead of Swiss Pralines it contained a cherry-pink vibrator, extra batteries and a note:
I know I embarrassed you. So here’s a little ‘I’m
sorry’ gift, I’m certain you will enjoy this more than chocolate.
Call me.
I took a bath after I unpacked and chided myself:
Who am I kidding? I’ve hardly thought of anything else but Brenda’s vibrator. I have the house to myself. This is the perfect opportunity.
I remained nude after I dried myself and laid down on my bed. I drew my knees upwards, pressed them to my shoulders. I parted the already swollen folds with one hand and guided the tip of the vibrator inside with the other.
I brushed a fingertip against my clitoris while rubbing rhythmically in circles. I slowly slid the pink vibrator deep. I was wet with anticipation and it glided in and out so deliciously. The cool, plastic-fantastic ribbing created the most exquisite feelings.
I turned the dial to the lowest setting and the vibrations began.
Oh My God it’s like an orgasm switch.
I exposed my engorged clit and tapped it in sync with the pounding of my heart. I increased the speed of the vibrator. Shockwaves of pleasure swam throughout my body.
I struggled to keep myself from coming. I sensed an electric climax building within me as another surge shivered up my spine. The sensitivity of my clit increased to the point of madness and I was tempted to finish myself off quickly, but didn’t.
My lips formed an Ooooohh and I cooed softly to the feel of the heavenly vibrations. Nearing the point of no return; my sphincter clenched, my pussy spasmed, still I resisted.
I didn’t come. Instead I screamed, “No!”
I clamped my legs shut, and turned off the vibrator.
When I had regained my self control, I turned the vibe to the highest setting and ran two fingers across my feverish, pulsing clitoris. I shivered continuously, my body awash with pleasure, ecstasy loomed ahead. My desire overrode my guilt; all my embarrassing inhibitions were gone. I threw my head back and cried out until I was hoarse.
“This feels so good! Soooooo good!”
A tremor crashed through me, time vanished and my eyes rolled up inside my head. I trembled with wanton fervor, the intensity of my orgasm blurring my senses. I couldn’t distinguish between pulses emanating from the vibrator, and my own, quivering pussy and clit.
I bit my lip, unable to stifle a squeal.
“Oh My God, thank you!”
I continued to writhe as my orgasm intensified; my entire body shook as I came repeatedly. I exploded into a torrent of liquid rapture.
After I caught my breath, I dialed Brenda’s number. Before I could say a word, I heard her giggle, “You’re welcome. It’s even better then chocolate, isn’t it?”

* * *

by Nyna Wolfe
© 2007, all rights reserved