by Night Writer

Ruth Duncan was looking forward to masturbating that evening. She had it all planned out, that she would start at ten-thirty before going to bed. Somehow, scheduling a day and time to masturbate made it more exciting. As she spent the day in her first-grade class, moving among the students and leading them in painting or sing-alongs, the thought of what lay ahead intruded delicately into her mind. By the end of the day, her panties were moist with her excitement.

As Ruth let herself into her house, the emptiness struck her as it usually did. At sixty-four, she was just getting used to the idea that her husband was dead. She was alone, and had been for two years. Ruth hung up her coat, thinking about the few boyfriends she had had in that time. None of them were even close to her husband, although a few had been good lovers. But she hadn't pursued a new relationship in almost a year. She needed to be alone for a while, to cope. But the old urges still came to her, and she had re-discovered masturbating as a release.

Ruth felt very sensuous as she prepared and ate her dinner. She spent some time reading a Mary Higgins Clark novel, pretending not to notice as the clock ticked towards ten-thirty. The anticipation made it even better as she struggled to keep her thoughts off her lower regions. But they grew steadily more lubricated as the night went on.

By the time ten-thirty arrived, Ruth was more than ready. She put aside her book and began to prepare. For a long time, masturbation had been something she just did whenever her desires grew too intense. Now they were a daily part of her life. She had developed a ritual to her solo sessions that made them more exquisite.

In her bedroom, Ruth set the radio to a smooth jazz station which filled the air with light, easy tones. Then she poured herself a glass of her favorite wine. She set the glass on her bedside table, then began to undress.

Ruth made sure to be standing in front of her full-length mirror. She had it positioned so that she could see herself from the bed. But right now, she looked at her body standing, still wrapped in her clothes from school. Ruth smiled as she unbuttoned her jacket.

Ruth peeled it off, then undid her blouse. Drawing it open, exposed her breasts still sheathed in her favorite white-lace bra. She liked wearing sexy underwear under her clothes, even though she was often the only one who saw them these days.

Ruth took a moment to admire her chest. For her age, she was proud to say that her chest had maintained most of its original shape. She unhooked her bra and drew it off slowly. Her round globes came into view. Ruth admired their curves, only slightly sagging despite their size.

She tossed the bra onto a chair, then brought her hands to her chest. Ruth began to trace light circles around her nipples with her fingers. The nipples stiffened at her touch, and watching them grow hard and red in the mirror gave her a shiver of pleasure.

After a few seconds of massaging her chest until it tingled, Ruth unbuckled her belt and dragged off her skirt and slip. She let them fall to the ground, then stepped out of them. Once again, she paused to admire her body.

She was wearing lacy thong panties under her skirt. The feel of the string running up her crack and the thought of what others would think if they knew she had them on had been a source of pleasure throughout the day.

Ruth admired her legs and relatively narrow waist, the result of regular exercise, then slipped off the panties. They clung to her wet slit for a moment before coming off, and that sensation made her even warmer.

Ruth stood and looked at her nude body. She turned around, admiring herself. She forced herself to look at the occasional imperfections and see them as beautiful. She was trying to develop a positive body image and had fairly succeeded. Her body aroused her now just at the sight of it.

Ruth moved away from the mirror to the bed. She ran a finger over the soft sheets, then opened the drawer on the bedside table. Hidden under a stack of romance novels was her vibrator.

It was small, only an inch long, but powerful enough to satisfy her every time. For a moment, Ruth ran her fingers over its length, admiring its shape. She had grown very close to the vibrator over the past two years. It was a source of pleasure that never failed her.

Ruth set the vibrator down on the table, next to the wine, then climbed onto the bed. She lay back on it with a sigh. Lying there on the warm sheets, the air cooling her exposed skin, sensous music playing in the background, gave her a flush of warmth in her nether regions. After years of practice, Ruth had learned that the longer she delayed masturbating the better it was. Tonight was going to be incredible.

She propped up her feet so that her legs were arched in the air. She spread them, exposing her moistened crotch. Ruth was very lubricated and felt a trickle of her juices run out of her slit, down the lower part of one of her buttcheeks.

Ruth reached over and took the glass of wine. She took a sip, savoring the flavor as it ran down her throat. With her free hand, Ruth began to massage her left breast. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the sensations her movements stirred. Then she let her hand slide down her chest, then her stomach. She sank her fingers down into her lap.

Ruth used her right index finger to trace circles around her clit. She took another sip of wine, holding it in her mouth as the pleasure of her manipulations swept through her. Ruth circled her bud again and again in clockwise circles, moving the circles further inwards until she was rubbing her clit directly.

Ruth swallowed the wine. She was breathing harder, loud in her ears as she worked on herself. Her finger grew wet and slick as she buried it deeper into her slit. Her clit swelled, growing rigid against her finger.

Ruth settled back on her pillow. She set the wineglass aside and used her newly-free hand to circle her right nipple. She moved in sync with her other hand, circling her breast and clit at the same time in the same motions. The combination sent a shiver through her body.

Ruth began to press harder with her finger and speed up the circles on her clit. Her head dropped to one side. Her breathing became harsher, a low panting from her open mouth. Then it became a moan.

Ruth pinched her nipple between her thumb and forefinger. It swelled to separate them. She moaned again as her other hand twisted in her lap, drawing waves of pleasure from her tiny erection. The oozing squishy sound of her movements mingled with the jazz music in the air.

Ruth raised her head to look in the mirror. It was positioned so that she could see herself. She could see between her spread legs, the sight of her vagina and her hand buried inside it. Seeing her finger as a circular blur on her clit made her shiver again, harder. Ruth felt herself getting closer to the brink, her muscles tightening in expectation.

She forced herself to stop. Now was the time for her vibrator.

Ruth rolled over and picked up the vibrator still resting beside her glass. She slid it down her body to her slit and moved it up and down, getting it slick from her juices. Ruth pressed it against her clitoris. Then she reached down with her other hand and turned it on.

The buzzing vibration send rivers of intense pleasure flowing over her body. She lay back, clenching her teeth, and struggled to remain still as the vibrator hummed against her clit. Her moans turned into grunts of passion.

Ruth raised her head to look at herself in the mirror. Her vibrator stood out in the darkness, a white shaft pressed against her, glistening with her wetness. The sight of it sent her rushing towards the brink. Ruth waited until she reached the magic moment just before the orgasm hit, then shut the vibrator off. It was too intense for her then.

But she no longer needed it. Ruth's stomach tightened and she threw her head back as the orgasm slammed into her. She groaned loud, almost a scream, as her inner muscles clenched again and again, bringing a tingle with them that flowed from her clit to her entire body.

Wave after wave hit her, again and again, until finally it released her. And Ruth sank back on her blankets. Her legs came together to trap her hands. The inside of her thighs were smeared with her juices as her fingers spread her lips. She rubbed her clit with the vibrator a few times, teasing herself. Her clit was always ultra-sensitive after she came, with the slightest touch bringing pleasure that was almost pain.

When Ruth was done, she got some tissues from a box she kept on her bedside table. She wiped off the vibrator, then her slit. When both were dry, Ruth tucked the vibrator back under her novels to wait for her again.

Ruth finished the glass of wine, then curled up on the bed. She looked at her reflection in the mirror, nude on her bed, and smiled.

As Ruth drifted off to sleep, she decided to schedule another appointment for tomorrow night.

THE END

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