If I was to ask you to describe a man that wanks a lot, what image immediately comes into your mind? I can only guess that the majority of you out there would stereotype that guy as a feeble, greasy, no personality, loner, not fashion conscious, long coats type of person. Correct? Your forgiven. Although I do not have any of the traits mentioned above, and cannot be stereotyped in that way, I would have a lot in common with that sad individual, as will become evident as you read on.
It all started when James, my college mate, got a job in a different state and had to move out of an apartment we had shared for 4 years. We were close, like brothers and kept no secrets from each other, especially when it came to the girlfriend department. Every detail no matter how sordid or kinky would have been discussed.
James girlfriend Beckey was the current love of his life. They had been going out solidly now for 6 months and she would stay most of the time in our apartment because of the freedom it gave her, compared to the dormitory she would have shared with a multitude of girls. Beckey was beautiful, long straight blond hair, big lips, incredible perky breasts and an overall body to die for. I never took too much notice of her in a sexual way, since she was taken by my best friend. It is an unwritten law that us men adhere to and on that basis, she just never crossed my mind. That is, up until now !!!!
On James leaving, an awful void was left in the house. You could hear a pin drop when I’d come home in the evening. It took me a couple of weeks to get used to my own space again. On one particular evening, when I was preparing myself a bite to eat in the kitchen, I noticed a black lacey g-string lying on the floor beside the doorway to the utility room. Beckey still used the house on occasions to wash her clothes and entertain the odd friend. This didn’t bother me in the slightest, because being on my own, for me, was like solitary confinement. Not sure why I did it, but before I threw it into the linen basket, I gave them a quick sniff. An unbelievable aroma, a concoction of Beckey’s pussy and sweet scented roses filled my nostrils, triggering my brain into overdrive. What surprised me more was the speed of my erection and not just any erection, but a raging hard-on that Viagra would have been proud of. Images of Beckey raced through my mind like never before, her innocent big blue eyes looking up at me, pleading with me, her tongue whipping the head of my penis and sending surges of electricity through my body with every lash. The feeling was so intense and so sudden and in order to relieve the tension that hit me like a steam train, I released my cock from the confines of my trousers and started to jerk off, there and then in the middle of the kitchen. Having taken just 10 strokes, and without even enough time to grab a tissue, I blasted 4 streams of cum 6 foot into mid air, hitting the counter top and almost landing on my dinner. My mind was racing, my lungs heaving, my face flushed, my body in shock. What had happened was a totally new experience, and one that I would not forget.
That night, I couldn’t resist the urge to bring Beckey’s g-string to bed with me. Setting up my laptop on the bed, I loaded pictures of Beckey that I had taken when we had all gone to Niagara Falls for Thanks Giving celebrations, propping up a couple of pillows and borrowed some of Beckeys hand cream I found in the bathroom, I began to stroke my cock. Getting over the initial shock of the coldness of the cream, I began to picture Beckeys mouth once again enveloping my helmet as the cream began to warm up. I then imagined my cock entering her tight pussy and feeling the moistness and warmness of her insides, squeezing all sides of my cock, pulling back and stretching the foreskin as it entered. With very little effort I was erect like never before. Taking Beckeys aromatic g-string, I placed it under my nose and inhaled deeply, once, twice, three times, causing my head to spin and become nauseous. With eyes leering longingly at the pictures as they popped up on the laptop, my hand still stroking up and down in synch with my breathing, all my senses were in overload. Been prepared this time round, I purposely shot my load into her panties. With one heave of cum, followed by another and yet another, I shot my load into my panty enclosed hand. The extent of cum was too much for the flimsy g-string to contain, causing some to spill out onto the back of my hand. Being a day of firsts, I lapped up the back of my hand, and tasted the largest amount of my own cum I had ever tasted before. Not that I would order it off a menu of a respectable restaurant, surprisingly however, the taste was not unpleasant and less salty that I had imagined. That final act of decadence was too much for one night and the emotions I was feeling, the intensity and speed at which things happened that day, knocked me for 10. Sleep engulfed me almost instantly that night until I awoke the next morning. An earthquake would not have made me stir.
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The following day was a normal, typical day and not much thought was given to the escapades of the previous day. That is, until I arrived back to my apartment. Heading straight to my bedroom to change my clothes, I noticed a different pair of panties this time lying outside the door of James old bedroom. These were similar in shape, but with a lace trim and red in colour. Beckey, like the last time, must have dropped them by mistake. Right on queue, my cock swelled instantly, hardened to the same rigidity as the previous day and picking them up was slightly awkward and uncomfortable when bending over to pick them up. The urge to jerk off, overcame me, so into the bedroom I ran, throwing off my clothes without any regard to where they landed, and proceeded to rub, sniff, feel beckeys undies and jerked myself to a shuddering and glorious climax.
Finding Beckeys panties I put down as an accident on her part. It’s not inconceivable to drop something so small and not notice it. As you read further however, this was far from the truth.
The next evening, while relaxing in front of the TV it became evident that Beckeys persona began to change considerably. She came in from college, said her usual hellos and after a few rumblings around in the kitchen/utility room, came over to me with, what I perceived to be a smile on her face. She then proceeded to askif I had seen 2 small items of clothing. Not sure how I prevented myself from chocking on a mouthful of coffee, I somehow uttered that I had no idea whatsoever. Not happy with my response and visibly annoyed with herself for having lost something, she held up a pair of the black lacey undies to show me what was missing. I shrugged my shoulders, portraying the idea that I was not interested. I immediately turned away, hiding my face that had now turned a deep shade of red. Out of the corner of my eye I couldn’t help but notice Beckey’s gaze burning a hole in the crotch area of my trousers where my cock was standing to attention, like an Appollo rocket on a launch pad. I strategically placed the mug of coffee on my crotch, hoping to cover up my erection. However, placing the mug in that position only highlighted my predicament even further. Beckey had noticed everything and was impressed by the size and how it snaked down my trouser leg.
About an hour later, Beckey walked into the sitting room and what met me almost caused my eyes to pop out of their sockets. Wearing a pair of lycra workout shorts, a cut-off t-shirt that was soaked with sweat, and a pair of the trendiest of aerobic footwear, I could see the curves of Beckeys body, and it was mind blowing.
The lycra was, of course, skintight and clung to every curve of her slim hips. I couldn't help but stare at her toned thighs, lean bronzed legs, manicured toes . . . my eye detected a thin line of sweat that had collected between her thighs. The launch of the Apollo rocket was within seconds of blast off.
The t-shirt served double duty, showing off Beckey’s sexy navel, as well as revealing her other . . . assets. I couldn't help but stare. I never saw her in that light before. I didn't realize that I was looking intently at her tits until a slivery thread of saliva actually escaped my mouth, landing on my crotch area, simulating pre-cum emanating from the head of my penis. What an embarrassment if Beckey had noticed. Unknownst to myself, she noticed everything. The fish was hooked and it was now a matter of reeling it in, slow and steady.
"Ben," she put her arm around me, enveloping me in her moist warmth, "I’m going to have a shower if that is ok?”. All I could muster was a mumble.
I could hear Beckey singing in the shower as I walked by the bathroom door. The clothes she wore were thrown on the ground on the landing. I couldn’t leave an opportunity like that pass and quickly picked up the items, sticking my tongue out to taste the saltiness of the wet patches. The aroma was intoxicating, filling my nostrils with her sweet smell. My mind was racing, my cock raging, heart pumping. Lasting only seconds, but so afraid of being caught, that moment was enough to almost cause me to explode without even stroking myself.
As I sat on the bed, I checked the mirror and there as an unsightly bulge in the front of my jeans. For a moment, I considered jerking off to get it down, but that seemed a touch distasteful at the moment and with Beckey next door, the risk of been of been heard was too high. Shrugging into a long, loose shirt, I shambled out of my room and headed for the kitchen, praying my erection would subside.
Not long afterwards, Beckey strolled into the kitchen, softly purring to herself and proceeded to make herself a coffee. She was wearing a tight white tank-top with spaghetti-thin straps that looked to be strained to about their limit. Her hair, still wet from her shower, fell down on either side of her breasts. I could clearly see her nipples harden and darken as the material dampened. With my attention somewhat diverted, I failed to see her cat-like smile.
"So how are things without James ?" Beckey inquired in her best "girly style " voice.
"Uh, fine." I replied. A little flushed, I tore my eyes away from Beckey’s cleavage and sat down at the kitchen table, eyes firmly fixed on the formica top, hiding yet another erection.
"That's good. I surprisingly managing a lot better than I though." she said, and went back to making coffee.
"Do you miss him?" I shakingly managed to say.
"Emmm ……… I suppose I do”. Her tone was submissive and she wasn’t quick enough to answer. Suddenly she reached over, giving me quite a view of the side of one large firm breast, and turned on the stereo which was on the kitchen shelf above my head. Cheesy dance music blared out from the speakers. Images of Beckey gyrating her body to the sounds, flashed through my head. The rhythm of the beat was in time with my heartbeat, pumping blood to all extremities of my body. It was hypnotic . .
"But life goes on. Mustn’t linger too much in the past, mustn’t we Ben”, she said teasingly and smirkingly.
I was taken aback by her abrupt words and her tone. Upto a week ago, you couldn’t keep them apart. Now she was acting as if James never even existed. Beckey kindly placed a sandwich in front of me, giving me a clear shot down the front of her shirt, into the cavernous cleavage contained therein.
