I slid my hand under the material and then under her panties. I could feel her coarsely haired pussy. I studied her face looking for any indication of...her rousing, there was nothing. I felt her twat slowly (If this didn't get me in the shit I don't know what would) her lips parted easily and I slowly inserted two fingers and worked it open. Then I sank them in and finger fucked her until she was getting wet. The door alarm went and I started terrified. I yanked my hand away so fast the lycra of. I reached across his upper torso and raised myself onto him, still sucking on his cock, which had sprung to life inside my mouth.It was too much, the powerful urges had taken over my slim frame, it was as if nature itself was guiding me, I sat up and moved my lower body over his thighs and came to rest on top of his now very erect manly cock, rose and guided him inside me.I sat atop of this wonderful thing, God's creation for women, and I rocked and gyrated, rose and bore down in equal measures. I thought maybe the problem was with me. I even went to see a psychiatrist that said I suffered from “low libido". She recommended that I masturbate, read erotic fiction, and watch dirty movies. I took her advice. I did all of these things. My body can respond in some fashion, I guess. But my brain never interprets these feelings as pleasurable or compelling. They’re not off-putting or gross. They just feel weird.I even sought out adult companionship online. I met someone I thought was. I sat on the side of his bed and gave him and couple of thugs to get up and he just moaned and said he can’t until I help him unload. I slipped my hands under the cover and grabbed his hot cock on my hand and began slowly jerking him off for what seemed an eternity, he wasn’t going to come this time, not because of what I was doing but because we had no lube left in the room and I wasn’t game to go out of the warm room into the upstairs bathroom to grab some hand cream. I remember spitting on.