My First Time Masturbating With My Best Friend

Oh, honey, this story brings back the heat I felt when I had just turned 18. I swear, every time I remember it, my pussy gets wet, because it was one of those unplanned things that gets branded into your memory.

That night was a regular Saturday, the kind you enjoy to the fullest because you don’t have to wake up early. My friend Daniela, a girl shyer than me but with a look in her eyes that betrayed the same desires, had come over for our monthly sleepover. My parents had already gone to bed, leaving us in charge of the house, with all the snacks we had bought: chips, chocolates, sodas, the full combo for a night of gossip and movies.

We holed up in my room, which back then was my sanctuary, with posters of singers on the walls and a mess that was perfect in my eyes. After devouring half a store’s worth of food, we started looking for something to watch. And that’s, girl, when I remembered that movie I had seen a few days before. A kinda weird one, where the guy had to keep his adrenaline high so he wouldn’t die, which obviously included fucking his girlfriend on a train full of people.

The scene itself didn’t show much, you couldn’t even see the actress’s tits, but it had left my pussy boiling. I don’t know if it was the taboo, the public nature, or the intensity with which the guy was going at her, but that thing had me obsessed.

“Hey, Dani,” I said, trying to sound casual, “do you want to see something kinda funny but also exciting? Something really scandalous.”

She laughed, with that nervous little giggle she always had when something piqued her curiosity. “Okay, let’s see it,” she replied, and right then I looked for the scene.

The screen lit up with the image of the train, the people around, and the two protagonists in their own world, with that desperation only sex can have. Inside, I was already starting to burn. I felt the heat rising up my legs, that delicious tingling that tells you your pussy is getting happy. But, of course, Dani was right next to me, and I couldn’t do anything. I kinda regretted putting it on, because I knew it would leave me wanting more.

When the scene ended, Dani was speechless. “Wow,” she finally said, “that’s crazy… but exciting, right?”

Her reaction gave me courage. “Should we watch it again?” I proposed, and she nodded quickly, as if she also needed to remember every detail. The second time was worse, or better, depending on how you look at it. It wasn’t just the scene anymore, it was knowing that we were both watching the same thing, feeling the same thing. The air in the room grew thick, charged with something we weren’t capable of naming.

After an awkward but delicious silence, Dani admitted what I already knew. “Girl, this thing has me wet.”

I let out a nervous laugh. “Me too, girl. In fact, I regret putting it on because now I can’t touch myself with you here.”

That’s when she looked at me, with those light eyes that seemed to see everything, and dropped the bomb. “We could… touch ourselves. Without looking, obviously.”

My heart skipped a beat so hard I thought it would jump out of my chest. The idea was so forbidden, so exciting, that I didn’t even think twice. “Yes, let’s do it,” I said, and in seconds we established the rules: we’d touch ourselves under the blanket, we’d put a pillow between us so as not to get distracted, and each in our own world.

I played the scene again, lay back on the bed, and slipped my hand under my shorts. Finally, my fingers found my little pussy, which was already swollen and drenched. Uff, the relief was instant. But it wasn’t just the physical relief, it was the madness of the situation: me, there, touching myself with my friend right beside me, both of us watching the same scene that had us on the edge.

Every time the scene ended, I’d replay it, and every time I did, I got wetter. I couldn’t believe how horny I was. And the best, or worst part, was that I could hear Dani. Her soft moans, that gentle panting that crept over the sound of the movie. Knowing that she was in the same state, that her hand was on her pussy, that she was touching herself at the same time as me… that turned me on more than the scene itself.

I wanted to take off my sleeveless shirt, I wanted to feel my tits in the air, my nipples hardening under the touch of my fingers. But I didn’t dare, so as not to make her uncomfortable. Instead, I touched myself over the fabric, squeezing my breasts, imagining it was someone else’s hand groping them.

My mind was racing. I was the actress in the movie, I was the one getting fucked in public, with people watching, with all that risk you always hear about. I felt an imaginary cock pushing into my pussy, big and hard, filling me completely. And in that moment, I couldn’t take it anymore. The orgasm hit me like a wave, a tsunami of pleasure that made me moan and arch my back. I closed my eyes, letting the sensation completely overwhelm me, my fingers kept moving until they had wrung out every last drop of pleasure.

When I opened my eyes, I turned to look at Dani. She was in her own world, eyes fixed on the screen, mouth slightly open, her hand moving frantically under the blanket. I saw her come, girl, it was spectacular. A moan escaped her throat, a sound so rich and so sincere that it turned me on all over again. She threw her head back, closed her eyes, and her body shuddered.

When she opened her eyes, she smiled at me, with that complicit smile that’s only born after sharing a secret. “Girl, I might have to watch this scene at my house to touch myself again,” she said, and we both laughed, breaking the sexual tension that enveloped us. “Thanks for showing me this,” she added, and her gratitude was genuine.

We put on a real movie, a romantic comedy that didn’t require much brainpower, but I couldn’t concentrate. My mind was still on what had just happened. We had masturbated together, side by side, sharing the same air, the same desire. And the most incredible thing was that it wasn’t awkward, it was… natural.

That night marked the beginning of a tradition. Every sleepover, after my parents went to sleep, we’d look for hot scenes in movies, we’d masturbate together, and then we’d watch a normal movie, as if nothing had happened. It was our little ritual, our dirty and delicious secret.

And although many people might expect us to have ended up fucking like rabbits, the truth is, it never happened. Our friendship was stronger than the horniness, and that, deep down, made it even more special. Every time I remember those nights, I smile, because I know it was one of the most delicious and fun stages of my life. And who would have thought that a simple scene from a movie would bring us together in such an intimate and awesome way.