The day after our latest outing I was lounging on the couch watching a Cubs game. Not that I'm a Cubs fan, they just happened to be on TV. I was toying with the idea of hoping in the shower, but I had another couple of hours before I had to get ready for the afternoon shift. I started to get ready for a run when the phone rang.
It was Joan and she was on a break at her job and wanted to shoot the shit. She eventually got around to asking why I wasn't currently dating anyone. She thought with the big motorcycle I was riding, I'd have girls lined up for dates. I told explained that I had high quality control standards and that it wasn't a big deal to me. Then she blew me away by asking what I did to get off?
I stammered for a second. One of my friends' wife's was asking me what I did to get off when I wasn't dating. Well, I can talk to anyone about anything, why should this be any different?
"I masturbate," I told her bluntly.
She breathed into the phone receiver. Was she getting excited? I'm not always the quickest on the uptake when it comes to women, but I got it this time.
"Really?" She asked.
"Yes." I leaned back on the couch and closed my eyes. I might get into trouble, but I was betting it would be a fun journey.
"What do you think about when you. . . masterbate?" She asked in a low, sultry voice.
"I don't know, experiences I guess."
"Not fantasies?" She asked.
"No, not often. Usually I think about something that happened in the past."
"How do you do it? I mean, do you do it in the shower?" Her voice had lowered a bit like she didn't want to be overheard.
"Sometimes," I said. "Sometimes I do it in the living room, anywhere will do."
"Oh," she said breathing harder. "Do you ever think of people you haven't been with?"
"Occasionally," I said suspecting where she was going with her line of questioning.
"Have you ever thought of me?"
I smiled to myself and had to stifle a chuckle. I was going to tease her now. "I was just about to, in fact. I thought you looked great last night."
"Really?"
"Really, really," I said. "But now I have to go for a run. I never cum before exercise."
"Hold on," she said. "Tell me how you do it, I mean, how do you stroke yourself?'
"I'll tell you what," I said. "I'm going to go for a run. I'll be gone an hour. Just come over and I'll let you watch."
There was silence on the other end of the phone. Then she said, "Tempting. . ."
"Up to you, balls in your court." I dropped my shorts. My cock was swollen and thick. I stroked it once and stopped. I didn't want to get that started before my run. My balls were aching already since it had been awhile. "Okay?" I asked. I could still hear her breathing on the other end.
"I'll see what I can do, but today might not be good for me." She hung up.
I laughed thinking I'd called her bluff.
I got ready and did my midweek run, six miles to and around Midway airport. It was hard on the knees with all of the concrete, but it was convenient. I got back to my apartment after an hour and her car was in the parking lot. She stepped out in heels, a skirt and a white blouse. Her auburn hair was down, held back by some kind of fabric ribbon. She was beautiful and had a great figure. She was tall, had a nice rack, not too big and certainly not to small. Her stomach was flat and her legs were long.
"Hi," I said trying not to stammer.
"Hi yourself," she said. "Hope you got some energy left for my show?" She followed me up the stairs to my third floor apartment.
I let her in and she looked around before having a seat on my couch. I closed the balcony drapes and asked if I could get her anything? She shook her head but didn't say anything. I swallowed.
"Are you sure?" I said.
She looked up at me and grinned. "I drove all the way over here didn't I?"
"Yeah, but I didn't know if you were serious. Maybe you're just messing with me."
"Not on your life," she said licking her lips. "I want to see you play with your cock and I want to see you spray."
"What are the ground rules?" I asked.
"Ground rules?"
"Yeah," I said. "Do's and don'ts."
"Oh," she said looking at the floor. She glanced back at me. "You can't touch me. That's not why I'm here. You can only touch yourself."
"Ok."
"And," she kept on. "I can touch you, but only with my hands if I want."
"Okaaaaay." I didn't know if that was such a good idea. "And we're not either one of us telling Don." That was her husband.
"Goes without saying," she said shaking her head. "He wouldn't approve in the slightest." She patted her thighs and wiggled her butt like she was getting comfortable.