15 years ago, I went into my older b*****r's room to grab a porno mag. He had stacks of them all over the place. I wasn't too choosy. I picked the magazine off of the top of the pile that was closest to his bed and went into the bathroom. My usual routine was to open the mag, find a babe, pull out my cock, and have at it. When I opened the mag, my jaw dropped and my dick got so hard, so fast it practically popped out of my pants! I could not believe what I was seeing! It was a gorgeous babe alright, but she had a BIG hard-on where her snatch was supposed to be! My cock was pulsing in my pants,... Continue»
The first part is fun for us both. The dance, the flirt, the eye contact, the chemistry, the surprised look in his eye when he first sees this is really happening. Not the usual bar banter. Me watching from the walls like all my life. She does get turned down but not often. Most often she ends up with exactly who she marched up to and smiled at. When we first started the first part could take all night. She played it cool and coy exactly like when she was looking for love. Now she’s faster. Unless she’ goes slow just to piss me off. The things that can come out of that woman’s mouth. The way she can look at you saying them. It’s discombobulating. She can ask a question that only has one answer. That smile and that body. No-one but the most attached and most faithful have any chance.
The second part is the riskiest. It can happen 101 ways. All of a sudden we’re on the move, as her surprised suitor gets looking for a place to turn this trash-mouthed creature into a conquest. Usually she gets some way to motion me, not always. Usually he feels he’s in control, sometimes he suspects it’s the other way around but doesn’t care. She can make suggestions and do her best to keep me in sight but he’s in control here. He has to find a place. Car back seats of cars of course, restaurant alleys, park benches (my personal favourite), the back row of empty movies, etc.etc. Anything but washrooms, every guy’s first instinct. Washrooms suck. Even if I can get in there without killing the deal all I can do is listen. But you should hear what this woman can say so that can be OK too. She has two rules, no cameras, and no blaming her if things go wrong. I have rules too, mostly about keeping her phone on, holding the keys if she gets in a car, condoms, phone numbers, etc,etc.
The middle part can be easy or scary. For us both. To anyone watching the watcher, I’m a creep at best and probably a criminal. The worst is getting caught by him, he either runs away deeper where I might lose them, or comes straight at me swinging trying to impress her. Luckily he usually has his pants down around his ankles. Lost her twice and she said she had no choice but go through with it, don’t like thinking about that. But we’ve learned to think quick, we can say more in a glance than most couples in a sentence, and I don’t think I’ll lose her again. Watching that woman fuck is worth some level of risk. And the risk becomes part of the fuck. I can’t understand why people watch sports or look for beauty in art, when they could watch a confident beautiful woman fuck. It’s the only reason we’re on this planet that I can see and we can’t watch? It makes no sense to me. She should be watched. And the more she’s watched the better she performs. She can’t cum by any other hand than her own so all of this is theatre. She’ll let him go anywhere he wants if it doesn’t hurt. If he’s slow taking the lead she’ll do that too. She can go places she’d never go alone knowing I’ve got her back if things get messy.
The second last part is the hardest. It’s a vulnerable time for everyone. He’s either bound and determined to get more of this, or has that “what the fuck happened to my pants” thing happening. She’s kinda wondering “that was fun, why don’t I just stick with this one”. I’m kinda wondering, is this really how a man shows his love. But 99 times out of 100, everyone slowly (or quickly) puts their clothes back on and goes back to their real lives.
The last part is the best. For us both. We can be so cranked, we’ll have another go right then and there and I swim in another assholes milk. More often we go home, think, and come back together in it later. It’s fun to talk about. Sometimes she can’t wait to tell me and laugh about things he said or did. Sometimes she’s quiet for a time and those can be scary times for me. But so far it’s worked. She’s moving on – she wants to try two at once soon. I keep thinking it will be more fun re-hashing these crazy stories when we’re old and grey than doing crossword puzzles.