Unknown: Masturbating Little Girls

"Good-bye, dear. I appreciate the invitation," he had said.

And now she thought of that little scene. It brought the slide rule to life. She pretended that Mr. Jeremy had touched it. She pretended that now, even now, it was his muscled fingers and hands that were tracing over her lovely curves, measuring her every twitch, every heave of her turned-on body.

Now he was measuring her tangents. Now he was finding her square roots, located of course in her pussy, her clit and her nipples. He was passing his hands over her logarithms.

She flit the edge of it over her clit, being careful not to hurt herself, and gave in to her own body's rhythm.

"Mmmmmmm," she moaned softly, there in the dark, underneath the blanket.

And a little imagined balloon over her head had Mr. Jeremy sketched in the middle of it, watching her, and getting his own rocks off as he did so.

"Oh, Mr. Jeremy, I love you, I adore you," she said, her groin bumping and grinding to the rhythms of his logarithms. She tried to picture him with his wife. Oh, what did they do? She wondered. And how did they do it? She wanted to do exactly what they did. Oh, she felt so lonely.

Without her Mr. Jeremy, without her Manny, and sentenced to three weeks of hell in the dormitory, able to go out only for classes. Ugh!

Well, she still had her masturbatory techniques, and she still had her slide rule, and she still had an infinite variety of tools of masturbation.

A slide rule is important to my bag of tricks, she thought, feeling the cold steel against her groin and pressing it between the flesh of her soft thighs.

She drew it up then and pressed it perpendicular to her body, across her breasts. She measured the span between her nipples, although she couldn't really see in the dark. She guessed the span to be about seven inches.

She measured the circumference of her tits, and also the diameter. She decided the left one was bigger than the right one. She tried hard to remember the formula for finding the perimeter of her breast, when she knew the diameter. She gave up trying.

The demands of her body were too great. "Ahhhhh," she moaned, feeling the juices of her cunt squeeze out of their walls.

She gave up the ruler just then and used her hand. Her old familiar hand that knew the ins and outs and secrets of her private places better than her ruler did.

She remembered a movie she and Susie had snuck in to see recently. They had seen a woman masturbate. In fact, they had seen two women masturbate. She remembered how they'd done it, and emulated them, emulated the gestures of these two, experienced blond actresses.

She recalled the one lying in bed. The camera was at her back. She could see the hand of the woman jut into her groin, and the other hand wrapped around one tit. The other woman, her companion, had stood in the other room and watched her through the doorway.

The camera had showed her silhouetted against the doorway. The woman in bed jabbed at herself and groaned and spasmed.

Jody had had the funny feeling, then, of creaming and coming herself, right in the seat of the theater.

She remembered that scene now, and felt all horny again. Her hands jabbed away at herself and she felt deliriously happy. Her hands and fingers rode all over her body.

She imagined herself on the movie screen of a theater. She imagined auditioning for the art of the masturbator.

"You masturbate very well," the director would say, "very convincingly," and he would ask her back. There would be five finalists.

He would select her, because of her wealth of techniques and objects, and her sheer will and drive to orgasm.

She would win hands down any time.

And now her hands were going down again. She worked quickly, rummaging all over her twat, inserting her pegs in the right holes.

"Nghnghngh," she moaned, fucking her cunt with her middle finger.

Another finger went down to her ass cheeks and plunged into the hole between them. It completely melted her.

With the other finger working frantically on her clit, she worked herself again into a frenzy of pleasure…

"Ohhhhhhh," she moaned again, thinking of Manny fucking her in the woodshed. "Nghnghngh," she groaned, feeling Mr. Jeremy's imagined hands on her breasts and cock up her twat.

With the two sexy lovers of her imagination working on her, she couldn't help but come with a burst of cuntal fluid.

"Ohhhhhh," she screamed as softly as she could, so Miss Glen wouldn't come running again.

She kept jabbing and rubbing and thrusting her groin up and down till the waves of extreme pleasure subsided.

And the feeling of warmth and peace flooded her, from pussy to tit. And she slept soundly that night while visions of dildoes and slide rulers danced in her head.

There would be more dreams to come!

Jody woke early the next morning. She dressed without masturbating and went downstairs to breakfast. She and Susie ate together every morning.

The topic, as usual, was onanism. That was Susie's favorite word. It was her preferred word to masturbation.

Susie was a robust, pink cheeked brunette with long, silky hair that she could sit on.

And she was sitting on it now, while she ate her pancake. Every morning Susie had one pancake for breakfast. Without syrup. She loved it that way.

"You know," she was saying to Jody, stuffing the single pancake into her lovely mouth, and licking her lips, "you know, boys can stick their pretty dicks through a pancake and really get their rocks off in it.

This thing's pretty doughy. Bet it feels just like a girl's pussy.

"It would be juicier with syrup, Susie," Jody said dryly. "Really, I can't see what you see in those horrible pancakes. They're so dry."

"It takes the cake!" chimed in Susie. Susie liked to pun. It was her favorite sport, next to masturbating.

"Well, test it out on Ricky next time you get him in the hay," said Jody, tossing her blond hair back from her face, as she munched on her crinkly cereal.

"Why should I give him pancakes when he can have me!" she cried. She was easily affronted. "I mean, let him find his own pancakes. I'm not going to help him."

"You should find them for him," advised Jody in mock seriousness. "What if he doesn't find a pancake to help him through the dry spells? He'll find another girl. Boys are like that, you know. By the way, I worry about such things. I'm grounded for three weeks. It's going to be horrible."

"Whatever for?" asked Susie, eyeing the boy waiter that was taking the trays and dishes off the tables. She had an urgent desire to goose him.

"For having my pants down while I talked to Manny on the phone!"

"I don't believe it. What a riot. Who caught you?" she asked.

"Old scum bag herself."

"No! Miss Ellen Glen. Heavens. Weren't you embarrassed?"

"Oh, she was probably jealous. She probably wanted some young cunt for herself. She had the nerve to take my hand in hers and plead with me to be a good girl. I got sick to my stomach. She digs emotional togetherness, but it made me nauseous. Nauseous, I say! Nauseous!"

She yelled it out, and the girls at the tables around her turned, looked and giggled. Jody gave them the horns. They gave her the finger back.

"Hell, old scum bag has no sex life herself," said Susie. "She probably doesn't even have a sex. You know, the equipment. Let alone the orientation." Susie liked big words, as well as puns.

Big words were her favorite sport, next to puns, and next to masturbating.

"Onanism," she was saying. "Onanism; onanistic, onanizer, to onone. Is that the verb, Jody? What's the verb? Like to masturbate. To onanize?

Geez, where can I look it up? I've got to find a sex dictionary, Jody.

Where can I find one?"

"You don't need to find one, darling Susie. You could write one. You know ALL the words. You know words I haven't even heard of before."