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24 Hours Part One

Two old friends discover a new side to their friendship over 24 hours
Friday, 7:32 a.m.

Clare didn’t even bother going into her office first. She rushed straight to the loo. The thirty-eight year old account director at a leading public relations firm in London was desperate to relieve the ache between her legs that had been building up since the early hours of the morning.

She had been divorced ever since David, her banker husband, ran off with the stereotypical twenty-one year old bimbo secretary. Over the past five years, she had had a number of boyfriends all of whom were great and decent in bed, but nothing more.

Her latest, Simon, was a really kind and nice guy but he always struggled to get her off when they fucked. He was pretty sensitive too and she couldn’t bring herself to have a quick and sneaky masturbate after sex for fear of offending him. Normally, she just waited until she was on her own.

The problem this morning was that they had showered together and the end result was just the same. He came and she didn’t. Without that relief her car journey had been virtually unbearable.

Clare entered the toilets and checked each of the stalls. There was no one about because it was a bit early on a Friday morning for any of her colleagues to get into the office. Friday was a dress down day, but Clare liked to be smartly dressed every day in the office and had chosen snug black jeans, that were cut off just below the knee, a crisp white blouse and flat black sandles.

Clare had virtually pulled her jeans down by the time she entered her stall she was so desperate. She closed the door and pushed her jeans and panties down to her ankles and sat down, the seat cold against her arse. She glanced down at the crotch of her black silk panties and could see a touch of pussy juice there, the tell tale sign of her frustration.

She quickly reached down to her pussy and gently stroked her clit and juicy lips through her dark, nicely trimmed pubic hair. That felt good but before it went to far she reached into her bag and pulled out her iPhone, propping it up on the door shelf in front of her. Carefully she switched on the movie camera and pressed record while adjusting the angle so she could clearly see her face.

This was something she had only just started doing after seeing a website which just showed women getting themselves off on camera. You could only see their faces and Clare had been fascinated and wondered what she looked like as she came. She had filmed herself quite a few times and now had a pretty big collection on her Macbook at home.

She settled down to her mission making sure she kept looking at the screen. As she slipped two fingers between her slippery lips, the pleasure was deep and she knew this would be quick.

As her fingers moved in and out of her pussy, she reached down with her other hand and began to rub her clit with that round and round action she loved. It wasn’t long before that familiar feeling began to creep up on her and her breathing got heavier as her hips began rock against her hands.

As the orgasm hit, a long deep moan escaped her mouth and her stomach clenched hard, her pussy gripping her fingers as she rung every last ounce of pleasure from her pussy. She lay back and gently caressed her mound before sucking on her fingers, enjoying their taste. Oh yes she needed that.

Clare heard the door go and one of her colleagues entered the stall next door but one. Quickly she wiped herself and pulled up her panties and jeans, popped her phone back in her bag and left the stall, washing her hands on the way out. Phew, that was close she thought, as she made her way to her office, conscious of the dampness between her legs.

She reached her office and sat down at her desk and just relaxed. That had been fun she thought and reached down to looked at the film on her phone. There before her was her own face staring back at her, living the orgasm right there and then. She liked what she saw and thought she’d save it for later.

Friday 11:37 a.m.

The phone rang on her desk and she instantly recognized the voice of Dita, her colleague from the company’s Berlin office. Clare and Dita were the same age and had been good friends for years. They both had joined the agency at the same time.

They also shared a love of music and modern art and whenever they met up they usually tried to catch a gig or an exhibition. Dita had also been the rock for Clare during the messy divorce, something she would always remember.

Dita was married, slimmer than Clare with short black hair, small breasts and slim hips. Despite her boyish appearance, Dita was incredibly beautiful and feminine with a style of dress that could only be described as sharp.

Dita was coming to London for a night’s stopover before flying on to New York and wanted to meet up and stay over. It was a quickly arranged trip to see a new Government client in the Big Apple but it was no problem. They had both stayed with each other over the years and it was always good to catch up.

It was agreed that Dita would go direct to Clare’s flat, they both had keys, and see her later when Clare had finished up at the office.

Friday 6:34 p.m.

Clare slipped her key into the lock of her modern, third floor flat and almost got knocked over by Dita who was on her way out for a run. There was a quick exchange of kisses and hellos and back soons before Dita headed out for her five mile run and Clare made her way to her bedroom to change.

Stripping off her bra, jeans and blouse, she made her way to the shower. A quick touch of the front of her panties convinced her it would be a good idea. They were still a bit damp from the toilet adventure and her scent was still in the air as she slipped them down over her arse and ankles and stepped into the powerful shower.

She still felt a bit horny but resisted the temptation for a further round of self pleasure as she knew Dita would be back soon and didn’t want to be caught.

The shower was brilliant and after towelling off, Clare slipped into some jogging pants and a large white t-shirt over a fresh pair of panties before making her way to the kitchen to start preparing dinner.

When dinner preparation was done, Clare pulled out a bottle of chilled Sauvignon Blanc and broke out her Macbook, quickly finding the folder marked "SELF". Inside were twenty-four clips of her face reacting to her own touch as she brought herself to orgasm on her bed, standing up, in the chair, on the floor, on the loo, kneeling and in the shower.

She quickly took a look at a couple of clips, marveling in her own pleasure, particularly the one where she could see her own arm movements increasing in speed until her eyes clenched shut and her mouth opened to signal the beginning of her orgasm.

One of them gave her a particular thrill. It was the one where she deliberately tried to give herself more than one and managed three, one after the other. When they were over, the film just showed her exhaustion for a good five minutes. She was too spent to turn off the camera.

Friday 7:30 p.m.

Dita’s return broke the spell as she bounced into the kitchen in her running gear, a tight pair of black Lycra leggings and a pink running vest. She was gasping after her run and sweating but looked just like the Dita that Clare had known for a long time.

“Hey Dita, here’s a glass of wine, the dinner is on, grab a shower and then we can catch up.” With that Dita grabbed the wine and marched off to the shower.

Clare returned to her own little ‘petites morts’ and as she flicked from clip to clip, she could feel that familiar tingle in her pussy and a return of the dampness. She needed to concentrate on dinner and moved to the stove to finish off the fish and vegetables she had lined up for Dita’s visit.

She switched her attention between the pots and pans and the computer screen, growing more and more fascinated by the different expressions and reactions in each clip. It seemed to her that standing orgasms were more intense and she loved the way she disappeared from the screen, no longer able to hold herself upright as the orgasm took her body over.

Friday 8:16 p.m.

“That’s better,” said Dita reappearing in the kitchen dressed in Clare’s old white towelling dressing gown. “How have you been lovely? It seems like ages since we last saw each other.”

“What was it? Two months ago?” said Clare. “Its always too long and yes, I’m good thanks.”

Clare and Dita slipped into easy chat about all the stuff that had happened since they last met.

“Oh that reminds me, said Clare. “I’ve got you something that I found in a little shop in Bristol last week. Just a moment, I’ll go and fetch it.”

With that, Clare made her way to her bedroom to find the necklace for Dita but when she got there couldn’t remember where she put it.

Ten minutes later, with the necklace found, Clare returned to the kitchen to find Dita at the stove stirring the sauce but worryingly, looking hard at the Macbook on the worktop.

Clare felt herself blush as she realized what Dita was looking at. She was horrified that Dita had found her secret. They were very close friends but hardly ever talked about sex and if they did it was always pretty innocent.

“Oh hi,” said Dita as she turned to accept the present. “That’s lovely but you really shouldn’t have. You’re so naughty Clare.”

“I just saw it and thought it would suit you. Its also a thank you for house sitting in January when I had to look after my Mother,” said Clare.

After the exchange, Clare managed to get back to the stove and start dishing up while Dita laid the table. She kept glancing at the computer but it was now in sleep mode so to avoid any attention she left it as it was.

Dinner was great, a second bottle of wine adding to the vibe and once the table was cleared, Clare and Dita retired to the lounge and sat down facing each other on the large white couch with their legs tucked up beneath them.

“I think you are so cool for making those videos Clare,” said Dita.

“Err, what videos?” stammered Clare.

“Don’t be coy. The ones of you getting yourself off. Or did someone else film them?” inquired Dita.

“Oh you did see them. I thought you were looking at them and now I am so embarrassed and yes it was me behind the camera.”

“Don’t worry about it. We’re mates and its such a cool and horny thing to do.”

Clare then explained to Dita how and why she had started filming herself and that yes she did watch them back and yes she did find them horny, admitting to masturbating while she watched herself get off.

“Right then,” said Dita. “Lets plug your Mac into the TV. I want to see the lot,” she said with a giggle.

By now Clare was feeling quite relaxed and despite being a little nervous about revealing all of herself to her best friend, finally succumbed to the persuasion.

Once Clare had connected the laptop and switched everything on, she simply found the folder and the first clip and pressed play knowing that the clips would play one after the other in one long orgasmic film.

They sat there in silence for a few of clips before Dita spoke first, having to clear her throat in the process.

“That’s so gorgeous. You look as though you are so deep into what you’re doing and when you get off, boy do you get off. Amazing.”

“Well, it something a girl’s got to do and I thought it would be fun.”

“Certainly looks like fun,” said Dita and with that they both returned their gazes to the screen as face after face and orgasm after orgasm passed in front of their eyes.

Clare had realized that she was feeling pretty horny and could feel her pussy beginning to swell and get wet. It was all she could do not to slip a hand down just to have a little stroke to relive a bit of that ache.

She looked Dita, who was fixated by the images on the screen. She noticed Dita had begun to gently bite her lip and had one hand inside the dressing gown, obviously stroking her breast.

Slowly but surely, Dita had begun to part her legs so that her right thigh was on view right up to the edge of her pussy. Clare felt her own horniness begin to grow as she wondered if Dita would go further and reveal all.

As Clare passed her twelfth on screen orgasm, this one standing up, she noticed Dita’s hand move slowly down to the bare flesh at the top of her thigh and move under the white towelling to begin small movements, indicating that she was touching herself.

“I love masturbating standing up,” said Dita suddenly. “I just can’t seem to stay on my feet though,” she giggled.

Clare giggled with her but kept her eyes glued to Dita’s hand which was moving under the robe, each stroke bringing a tiny gasp from her mouth. Clare was so wet and so desperate to touch herself but she daren’t.

“Look Clare, I’m really sorry but this is really horny watching you come on screen like that. I’ve got to do something about it and rather than go to my room or the loo, I’d prefer to watch on the big screen so I don’t have to use my imagination. If you want to go somewhere quiet for 10 minutes that’s fine but I’d prefer you to stay.

“I’ll stay but on the condition that I can film you. Is that a deal?”

Yes okay, but hurry up it won’t take me long,” said Dita.

With that Dita undid the belt on the robe and let it fall open revealing her small breasts, their hard nipples and her nicely trimmed pussy. She slumped into the couch and spread her legs wide. She reached down and slipped to fingers between her lips, sighing as she did so. Clare caught sight of Dita’s juices, catching the squishing sound as she pulled them out.

Clare quickly found her phone and began to film Dita lying there masturbating on her couch. She was as horny as fuck and as she changed position to kneel in front of Dita, she pulled down her sweat pants and her knickers and began to stroke her clit in time with Dita’s fingers which were now fucking her pussy.

Dita was concentrating on the TV screen, taking it in turns to rub her clit and finger her pussy. Clare was knelt beside her, looking at the phone screen while rubbing her clit. Both were getting close to coming.

Almost in unison their orgasms began to approach. The breathing was heavier and louder. Hips were rocking to the rhythm of the hands. You could see each of them beginning to prepare to come. Eyes closed, thighs began to shake and then suddenly, Clare and Dita came together, their moans and cries of pleasure in perfect tandem.

Clare collapsed forward onto Dita as her orgasm subsided. Both were breathing hard, continuing to touch themselves to make sure every ounce of pleasure was out of their bodies.

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck,” said Dita. “That was amazing. I am so wet and I’m still getting those twitches. How are you?”

Clare lifted her head from Dita’s stomach, conscious of the scent drifting from Dita’s pussy and said, “God that was a big one and I think we came together. Now that’s a first.”

They lay there for sometime swapping masturbation stories, laughing, touching themselves gently but never each other and taking sips from their wine glasses. All the while the TV screen replayed Clare having orgasm after orgasm, over and over and over.

Friday 11:30 p.m.

To be continued ?

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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