My friends from work liked to go out as a group and bring their significant others. That was fine and all, but I was having a bad streak and had gone twice by myself. Not really all that much fun, but what the hell. I got drunk at least. One of my friends' wife was a nurse. She knew I'd been an art major in college before joining the police department. She hung out with me, mostly for pity, at least that was what I thought.
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.

"How are you going start?"
I stood there dumbfounded. This gorgeous woman was sitting on my couch asking me to masturbate for her. Okay, I went to the bathroom and grabbed a towel and moisturizer. I came back into the living room and draped the towel over the coffee table. She didn't say anything but I could feel her eyes follow me intently. I slowly took my sweat soaked t-shirt off. My body was still wet and my muscles were still pink from my exertion. I kicked off my running shoes and left my socks on. I hate my feet, they're ugly.
I slid my thumbs under the band of my shorts and eased them slowly down my ass, then past my bulging crouch. I let them fall to the floor. Her eyes were locked on my bulge. I wore athletic boxers that hugged my muscular legs. My cock, folded over my balls was slowly engorging and trying to push the fabric of my shorts up. I stared at her a moment to see if there was any doubt in her, there wasn't. I could see her breasts moving more heavily than before. Her breath was bordering on ragged. She was turning on.
I hooked my thumbs under the band of my underwear and teased her a little. She held her breath and broke her gaze to look me in the eyes. There was an animalistic hunger swimming in her stare. It lingered on mine for an instant then dropped back to my bulge. I slid the material lower. She could see my flat stomach and the hair that descended into the shorts. Then the swollen root of my cock was exposed, trapped between the material and my skin. As I lowered the fabric further, more of my length was exposed, veined with thick blue cords. Then finally the band passed beneath the swollen mushroom shaped head of my cock as it sprang out and away from my balls.
Joan leant forward, her hand gripping her thigh. Her bottom lip was caught in her teeth as she breathed sharply. My cock throbbed to the beat of my heart, bobbing in front of her face. She looked up at me. Her lips parted. Her other hand rose.
"May I?" She asked.
I didn't trust myself to speak and nodded my consent to her request.
Her fingers wrapped around my shaft and tightened. Her grip was firm and warm. She slid her hand up to the base of my cock's head and then back down to my rigid stomach. The lose skin tightening with new growth beneath her touch. She stroked me all the way until I was fully erect. She licked her lips and I thought for a second she might take me in her mouth. But then she laid back against the couch's cushions. Her hand that had gripped her thigh was snaking under her skirt, worming its way to her pussy. The hand she used to caress my manhood went to her mouth. First she smelled it, then licked it. She moaned and I think her fingers had found their mark. She thrust her hips forward as I took my length in one hand.
I stroked and watched her,
She stared at my cock as I pumped it one handed, the head growing red and more swollen. Her hips moved forward faster and her breathing became quicker. Her face flushed and her thighs spread. Meanwhile I stroked my cock. All the while she watched. I could feel my scrotum tighten.
"I'm gonna cum, Joan." I took the base of my cock with my free hand and began to stroke myself in a two handed stroke. It was tight and rough. The hardness like stone, only hot and alive. I pounded my cock and watched her gyrate on my couch, her pelvis thrusting hard against her own hand. I felt the hot line of fire begin in my balls. "Ahh, I'm going to cum!" I warned.
Joan writhed hard on the couch and gasped air like she'd been punched, then she came. But she kept her eyes on my cock. The fire was erupting up the underside of my cock and I knew it was almost over. I stroked my cock hard and groaned loud as the first thick rope rocketed out, overshooting the coffee table by four feet. Joan leaned forward and brought her hands in front of me, trying to catch my cum in her hands.
I pumped and stroked and my cum blasted out stream after stream. Some made it in her hands, some went into the towel and one spurt hit the wall. I'd never cum so hard in my life. It was like someone yanked my toes through my cock. That was when my calf muscle spasmed and cramped. I half fell on Joan, still stroking my cock with one hand and grabbing at my calf with the other.
I lay on the couch, breathless. The pain in my calf almost gone, my cock half limp hanging against my thigh, still with a dollop of cum hanging on to the tip. Joan licked her hands slowly, enjoying the taste and heat of my seed. I'd never seen a women take such pleasure in my taste before. She played with the last splash and moaned as she finally slurped it in her mouth. I was spent, but still had to go fight crime when I just wanted to go back to bed. She bent over and tongued the last drop of cum from my cock.
Joan stood. She looked down at me. "Can we do this again?"
I nodded and closed my eyes as she smiled. "I'll let myself out."