"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 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 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 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! .
. . of glistening white skin rippling as Amy's pussy and ass clenched at the thrusting fingers.
"Oh, that's so nice," Rachel said, unable to take her eyes off the screen. She licked her lips and fluttered her eyelashes.
Amy grinned, proud to be showing herself off in the throes of self-pleasuring. Watching herself, as though she could be watching some other girl doing it, it occurred to her, possibly for the first time that it ever occurred to her, that she became so completely absorbed while masturbating that she was not aware of anything outside of her own skin. She clenched and felt the gush, the hot wetness soaking into the crotch of her bikini. Watching herself always got her very hot; she desperately wanted to get off right that second, but she'd wait for Rachel.
Rachel leaned forward to get closer to the screen. She rested her hand on Amy's thigh, felt the warm skin under her fingers, the muscle yielding under it. She wanted to reach into the video and touch her, help her come. Just as the thought entered Rachel's mind, she saw that video Amy was coming! "Oh migod," Rachel whispered. "You're coming!"
Amy, aware of Rachel's grip on her thigh, pulled Rachel's hand into her crotch, letting her feel the heat and moistness. Rachel didn't seem to notice. She covered her open mouth and leaned closer to the iPad as digitized Amy came, her thighs shaking, quivering, and finally squeezing together to trap her hand. Her hand continued a furtive struggle between her legs, her body spasmed, until her movements gradually stopped and she seemed to sag deeper into the bed. The image froze as the video ended.
"My god, you were really loud," Rachel said, recalling Amy's moans and gasps when she reached orgasm on the video.
"I didn't notice that I screamed before. That was a really good one," Amy said. She set the iPad aside on the bed and pressed Rachel's hand harder against her pussy, her clit so swollen now Rachel felt it through the fabric. Amy looked into Rachel's eyes, read the question in the blue depth, and responded with a kiss.
Rachel's mouth opened to accept the tentative probing of her tongue, her lips closed around the tip, sucked it in, pushed her own tongue into Amy’s mouth, and they fell back on the bed wrapped in each other's arms and legs, and started pulling away the bikini tops that kept their rigid nipples from touching.
Amy sucked on Rachel's nipples as she pushed her bikini bottom down, urged the taut fabric over the fullness of her buttocks, tugged it past her knees, and wriggled out of it. She threw a leg over Rachel and rubbed her pussy against Rachel's thigh, thrusting and twisting her pelvis. Feeling the coarse hair, soaked with Amy’s pussy juice, sliding closer up her thigh toward her open crotch made Rachel groan in heightening desire.
Amy’s naked breasts were close to her face now and she lifted her head to take one, then the other in her lips. Amy slid down, to kiss Rachel’s aching nipples, then down to plant long tender kisses on her abdomen, then down farther, and as her mouth touched Rachel’s flaming parts she thought her heart would explode. She howled, the sound like cats fucking, as Amy licked, kissed, sucked at her while frantically fingering herself.
One of them, indifferent to anything outside of their own bodies, must have brushed a leg against the iPad and knocked it off the bed. Perhaps the impact of its fall to the carpet—mysteriously, improbably, inexplicable to Amy when she discovered it later—activated the video function.
However it happened, the iPad recorded several minutes of the ceiling of Amy's bedroom, a delicate road map of tiny cracks in the plaster clearly visible in the splash of light from a window, and the sounds they made thrashing around on the bed and vocalizing their simultaneous orgasms.
The iPad even caught a few seconds of relieved giggles before fading to black.
