Masturbation at home (they shared with me)

Masturbation at Home Dirty - Erotic Short Story -- How did it come off the wall? Suppress a smile. He's been watching her for a while, weighing the wall of the bathtub, the faucet and its possible solution. He has always been excited by plumbers. Well, handymen in general. Plumbers, carpenters, mechanics... The monkey covered in grease, paint, cement; the sweat circle on his armpits; rough, strong, dirty hands. She's horny. What would happen if he opened his shirt, separated her legs and started masturbating with the rounded cap deodorant? Would she get angry? Would she reject him with a Ma'am, what are you doing!? Or would she observe him penetrating himself with it until it got hard, come out of the shower and eat her pussy kneeling between her legs? Or maybe, he would grab her roughly by the waist, spinning her around, pushing his belly against the sink, lubricating her ass with body oil and screwing her until her knees trembled? So many possibilities... What came off the wall? Fucking my last lover, dear. I was masturbating with the showerhead that you're holding in your hand and he pulled back the curtain. He looked at me and knew what he wanted. He undressed and entered. He caressed my cock and when he begged, I guided him to my pussy. He fucked me from behind while I continued to masturbate with the water jets and held onto the faucet with one hand to maintain balance. Strong, strong, strong, until I came and pulled so hard that almost ripped him off the wall, and we slid down, grabbed the curtain that couldn't support our weight, and fell into the bathtub, hitting against the edges. Do you see this bruise on my hip? You should have seen his back. -- Lady? Ma'am! Excuse me. How did it come off the wall? Play with the belt of her robe. Don't suppress a smile. No, not anymore. Smile and whisper coquettishly: Really want to know? Glamorous, but the paths of desire are inscrutable and, besides, let him who is free of sin throw the first stone. Anyway, I'm sure you'll understand it better if I start from the beginning. I had been dancing all night at the town's parties with a laborer. The firmness of the hand that gripped her waist, the cologne smell that didn't mask the acidic sweat, the sturdy body that pressed against hers, ignited them. They sneaked off to the orchard and lay down among the furrows, hidden by darkness. She needed more tenderness, but the rough and coarse fingers searched for her breasts under the linen dress and her sex, under the cotton panties, while the tongue penetrated her mouth and the teeth nipped at her lips. Such rudeness returned some of her sanity. Was she going to lose her white flower with someone she wouldn't marry later? It would be a shame to her family. She explained it with difficulty, because he was still masturbating her and desire was driving her crazy. He understood with great effort. 'We won't have sex, but we'll give ourselves pleasure. Touch me.' She gave in. She caressed the hard and fibrous cock with clumsiness and he guided her with one hand while pinching her clitoris with the other until they synchronized their rhythm and came with a moan that broke the silence of the night. They didn't see each other again, but that encounter rooted itself in Guillermina's entrails like a bad weed. Every time she went to the orchard, the smell of manure and earth excited her, and although she later masturbated remembering it, her fingers felt inadequate and she felt more and more unsatisfied until one day, while pulling up carrots for lunch, a perversity occurred to her. What if...? She chose the finest and thinnest, washed it thoroughly, and took refuge in the intimacy of her room. She began to caress her vulva with it, slowly, as if it were the laborer's fingers, until the moisture slid her into the entrance. She penetrated herself cautiously, just the tip, then the shaft, and let herself be carried away. When the stalks rubbed against her clitoris, she came trembling with pleasure, muffling a groan in her lips. Despite the delicious novelty, over time, the thin and meager carrots proved insufficient for her, and one afternoon, when she was stripping a corn cob, excitement invaded her once more. There was something erotic about removing the ear of corn and husks, caressing its surface as she had caressed that cock. Agitated, she hid it in the pocket of her apron and at dawn, when everyone was asleep, she caressed her vulva with it, slowly, fantasizing about the member of that lover. The moisture slid into her entrance and she penetrated herself cautiously, just the tip, then the firm, rugged, and smooth trunk, and let herself be carried until she felt its hardness in the depths of her sex and came trembling with pleasure, muffling a groan in her lips. Unfortunately, whether due to the texture of her new toy or the frenzy with which she masturbated with it, she contracted a vaginal infection that kept her sore and painful for two weeks, during which aloe vera and calendula infusions replaced all pleasant play. The bad experience didn't extinguish her libido, although it made her more cautious, and after weighing all possible vegetable alternatives, she settled on a large, rounded, and smooth zucchini, covering it with a condom stolen from her brother to avoid greater evils. Feverish with unfulfilled desire, she took refuge in the stable, lay down in a heap of masturbation, lifted her skirt, removed her underwear, opened her legs, and began to caress her vulva with the zucchini, slowly, fantasizing about the laborer, until the moisture guided it into her entrance and... a noise startled her. The groom who cared for her father's horses had dropped a saddle. Slowly, he emerged from the shadows where she was hiding, stopped in front of her, and looked at her eyes. It goes without saying that, from that moment on... day, Guillermina didn't need more vegetables, only him, his cock, his ring on the finger and..., well, his whip.