Mastrubation nature stories
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Absently, I run my fingers along my body, up my sides, across my belly and to my breasts--a lover's touch manifested through my own hands. My legs remain spread wide as the energy of the world sends bursts of wind to explore my bare sex, thrilling me in ways no other lover could. A sharp burst of wind finds its way across me, nearly slapping me in the face, and I can feel the intensity building within me. Independent of thought, my other hand slips behind me, pressing me face down into my pile of clothes on the rock floor, and slipping a wet finger against my pulsing star.
A delicious ache now begins low in my belly in conjunction with a fluttering sensation like so many fireflies beating their wings in a fervid frenzy. Without a thought the fingers of one hand are brought to my lips and moistened by my warm tongue. My spine arches and my tender thighs fall open, exposing the most private part of myself to the nature that surrounds me. Only when I am certain my release will not come too soon do I begin massaging in slow arduous circles, relishing in how even more of my hot essence seeps forth. With two fingers hilted deeply inside, I feel my walls squeezing and pulsating, my hips beginning to rock.