Descent into Depravity

I stepped into my bathroom and looked at myself in the floor to ceiling mirror. My sports bra was about half soaked with sweat (normal for a run in our climate in the late spring and summer) but my nipples were engorged to the point of looking like they wanted to tear a hole in the fabric of the bra. I stripped my bra off, pushed my shorts and panties off my hips, and tossed everything into a hamper. Now I was standing naked before the mirror, except I still had my running shoes and socks on. I laughed. What is it I asked myself that I had always found so kinky about a woman naked but for her running shoes. I released my ponytail and let my long dark hair, damp from running like the rest of me, fall about my shoulders. I was in a silly mood and I vamped a bit, pulling a strand of my auburn hair across my upper lip like a mustache. I was leaning back on one foot with the other knee bent and the shoe raised to the toe. Then I broke up laughing at my ridiculous pose.

My mind went back to the porn of last night and I stood, still facing the mirror, but now holding both my C-cup breasts, pushing them out towards the mirror as though to a photographer . . . or a lover. Mmmm. This felt nice. Now I was using my thumb and forefinger to rub the engorged nipples on each breast. The sensation was marvelous and there was something about watching myself in the mirror standing there, naked but for my running shoes, masturbating my tits. "Yes! This is so fucking hot! So nasty!" I said aloud.

I backed away from the mirror until my butt hit the counter behind me. I hopped up on it so I was sitting facing the mirror, my legs spread carelessly and my feet swinging a bit. I pushed my running shoes off so they would stop banging against the cabinet doors and then looked at myself again, now naked but for a pair of short-top white socks.

My bush was glistening with the sweat from my run. Was it just the sweat? I ran my fingers through it and confirmed that it was by no means all sweat. Some of it had the slippery lube feel of a leaking pussy. I pulled my fingers to my nose and confirmed the source by the smell. Then, still clowning and imitating the porn I had watched, I slipped the fingers into my mouth and sucked the pussy juices off of them. Hmm. The flavor was okay. I had never tasted it before. I was watching myself closely in the mirror and I sucked slowly and carefully like I was working on a cock (not that I really knew that much about cocksucking). I was getting more aroused and less inhibited by the minute.

Now I pulled one heel up on the counter and let my knee fall to the side. I used the fingers of one hand to push the thick hair aside and let the other hand begin to masturbate my pussy. As I watched myself masturbate in the mirror I began to talk to myself.

"Oh you are a horny slut, aren't you, Alice? You know it's wrong to watch yourself masturbate like this don't you?"

I slid a finger into my cunt and responded to myself, "Who says it's wrong? Anything that feels this good can't possibly be wrong." I slipped a second finger in and pressed both fingers against that special spot on the front wall. I sucked in air with a hiss as I savored the delicious sensations flowing from my cunt. "Besides," I continued, "How can I be a slut? That implies I'm fucking a lot of different people and I'm not fucking anyone and haven't since before Larry died. Horny I'll admit to. But not a slut." Leaving my fingers of one hand in my cunt, now sliding in and out like a small cock, I begin using the other hand to stroke my pussy lips and lightly massage my engorged clit.

"Yeah, well you would be a slut if you had anyone to fuck," I told myself.

"Ahhh! Ahhh!" I had brushed my clit a bit harder than I should have and almost tipped into a climax. I didn't want that to happen. I was enjoying this too much to just rub out a quick orgasm.

"Well, maybe I will fuck a lot of people," I said, continuing my conversation with myself. "So what! Larry's gone and he wasn't worth much for fucking when he was here . . . Yeah, maybe I should fuck a few people." Now I had both heels up on the counter. I had stripped my socks off because they kept sliding off the tile. My legs were spread as wide as I could get them and I was finger-fucking myself furiously with one hand and rapidly rubbing my clit with the other. The image in the mirror was . . . was . . . "Oh fuck, I can't think of a word strong enough, nasty enough," I said. Finally I told myself I looked "depraved," which was clearly an overstatement compared with what came later.

I could feel myself teetering on the edge of an orgasm. "Oh fuck. Here it comes. Here it comes. Oh fuuuuuuuck!" I screamed as a good solid orgasm ripped through me.

I let my feet drop to the floor and then the rest of my enervated body slowly slid down to join my feet on the cool tile, where I lay, coiled in a sweaty, sticky heap. Eventually I recovered enough to take a shower. The shower was a long one—the water cool at first until my body temperature cooled, and then a hot shower that I let soak away the fatigue of my run and my energetic masturbation.

* * * * * *

I was watching some mindless TV after dinner, when a random thought hit me. "I wonder if there is a way I can hook up Larry's computer to this big TV set." Why? Duh! Because I thought his porn would be so much better on the big screen, and the couch would be so much better to recline on than Larry's office chair while I . . . well, you know.

I spent the next couple of hours fiddling with the TV and the computer and digging through the Internet for solutions, and eventually I made it work. I was tempted to pull up some of Larry's porn, but it was approaching midnight, and I had to work in the morning. Big screen porn would have to wait until Monday night.

Work the next day was good and it was bad.

The only problem came in fifth period when I was minding a class of eighth graders doing self-directed study. I didn't have to really do anything except sit behind a desk at the head of the classroom and make sure that they remained focused on their work. That was when my mind started to wander, not back to Larry but to the porn legacy he had left me. I was just sitting in the classroom and my mind was replaying a specific video I had watched in which a woman lovingly shaved another woman's genitals and then ate her to a screaming climax.

I wasn't focused on the sex. It was the shaving of the woman's bush that fascinated me. I realized as I sat there staring mindlessly at the eighth graders that what I wanted to do was to go home and shave myself as bald and shiny as the woman in the video. I knew that if I were to look at my pussy right now, I would barely be able to see my pussy lips lost in a tangled bush of springy, twisted hair. I wanted my lips to be clearly visible, especially when swollen with lust. From there my mind wandered to things that a man (or a woman) could do to my sex exposed like that.

I became incredibly horny sitting there thinking about shaving my pussy. By the time the class ended I wanted to run to the restroom and bring myself to a quick climax. "No," I told myself firmly and quietly as the last child hurried from the room. "I'm not going to do that now. I have another class to teach starting in five minutes. I'll behave until I get home."

I'd like to say I was 100% focused on my teaching in period six, but that wouldn't be true, and you wouldn't believe me anyhow. We all know that once your mind begins to focus on sex, it's very hard to get it to return to other topics without the benefit of an orgasm and the release it provides. But I did my best.

Once sixth period was over I cleaned up my things and walked quickly to my car. I told myself that I needed to focus on my driving and I more or less did, other than rubbing my pussy through my slacks each time I was stopped at a traffic light. There was one light at which I was waiting along the left side of a cement truck. I knew the driver could look right down at my legs. I laid my hand in my lap and held it still when I thought he was looking at me. If he was looking forward, I was rubbing my sex. Once the light changed I drove quickly away from the slow lumbering truck, almost shaking with fear that he had seen me masturbating.

By the time I got home the only thing my addled mind could focus on was sex. Dinner would have to wait. I stripped off my work clothes, including my now soggy panties. I toweled myself dry and got ahold of an old electric razor of Larry's. It had a beard trimming attachment that I used to trim away the bulk of my pubic hair. As the tub filled with warm water I stood looking at myself in the mirror. My swollen pussy lips stood well above the remnant of my bush remaining after my haircut. I was so horny even my swollen clit was protruding from between my newly liberated lips. Now I just had to take a razor and finish the job. I was so fucking horny. I climbed into the tub and lay back letting things soak in the warm water while I wondered what it was going to be like to go to work with a naked pussy the next day. You're going to wear panties of course," I told myself. "You're not depraved."

"Well, just a little," I whispered in response.

I started with my legs, just for practice. Then I soaped the area I was really interested in, got out a new razor and carefully stripped away all the stubble remaining from what I had done with the beard trimmer. After washing away the soap, I climbed out of the tub, dried myself, and put lotion on the tender new skin I had exposed. Then I donned a lightweight robe I had taken to wearing around the house of late. It was silk and ended well short of my knees. It almost felt like I was wearing nothing at all, especially with the sensation of the air across my newly shaven pussy. Is this, I wondered, what it feels like to be nudist?

"No," I said. "You have to go outside to really be a nudist."

"Okay. Let's go."

I went to the kitchen and poured myself a glass of wine and then stepped out onto our back porch. Our porch was sheltered from the neighbor's view, so there really wasn't any way someone could be looking at me, but that didn't matter to me. I was outdoors on a warm late afternoon and I felt naked, even if it wasn't completely true.

I lay back on a chaise longue, setting the wine glass alongside. After a couple of sips of wine I released the belt on my robe. Now each time I reached down for my wine, I could feel my robe sliding away from my body. After about three more drinks my robe was completely open and my wineglass was empty. "Oh my. I should have brought the bottle," I said.

I hopped up and walked casually back to the kitchen, my robe open and my boobs swinging as I walked. I smiled as I thought about how shocked Larry would be to see this. Returning to the deck with the bottle, I refilled my glass and lay back on the chaise longue enjoying my nudity.

After another glass of wine, I began to softly massage my breasts. "Oh fuck, that feels nice," I said aloud. Then I remembered that even if the neighbors couldn't see me they could hear me. "Naughty, naughty," I whispered.

Now I was roughly massaging my tits and pulling on my engorged nipples. "Oh fuck yes," I whispered. Then I let my right hand drift slowly down to my newly shaven pussy. "Oh, so nasty. No hair. No hair at all. Just my fat, swollen, slippery, wet pussy lips, and . . . gasp . . . my hard, needy clit."

Now I had my legs pulled up so my heels were on the cushion and my knees spread as wide as I could get them. Both hands were busy with my sex now, three fingers of one hand relentlessly fucking my drenched cunt, and the fingers of the other hand lightly massaging my clit.

"Oh, oh, oh. Yes. . . . Yes . . . Oh shit. So fucking good!" Now I didn't care who was watching or listening. I just wanted to get myself off. "How could this get any nastier?" I asked myself. Lying on my back porch my robe thrown open so I essentially naked and masturbating in front of god and everyone.

I let myself just cruise and enjoy what I was doing for a good five minutes or so. And then I realized that I was holding myself on the edge of a cliff. A cliff I couldn't sustain. So I just let myself fly off the cliff with a scream loud enough to have come from any of the houses on the block (at least that is what I told myself later). As I climaxed, my back was arched, my fingers jammed into my cunt and my other hand pressing down hard on my spasming clit. Fuck, what a climax!

I lay on my side curled in fetal position for a long time. Eventually I rolled to my back and stretched. "Yes! Yes! Oh god yes. Life is good again." I kicked my feet like a little kid and I didn't care who heard what. Life was good again.