Newsgroups: alt.sex.masturbation Distribution: world Message-ID: 9412080113.aa27392@eddie.mit.edu X-Received: by usenet.pa.dec.com; id AA10501; Wed, 7 Dec 94 22:16:20 -0800 X-Received: by pobox1.pa.dec.com; id AA23812; Wed, 7 Dec 94 22:16:18 -0800 X-Received: from EDDIE.MIT.EDU by inet-gw-1.pa.dec.com (5.65/10Aug94) id AA29033; Wed, 7 Dec 94 22:14:12 -0800 X-Received: from localhost by eddie.mit.edu id aa27392; 8 Dec 94 1:13 EST X-To: alt.sex.masturbation.usenet@decwrl.dec.COM Lines: 76
Yet another "field report" for you, as accurately as I can recall the details. Yesterday I had nice a hot phone chat with a guy, the kind which requires at least one free hand, and I didn't quite make it to the finish line before we had to hang up. I later on wrote him email in which I was going to describe how I took care of business afterwards, but figured I might as well send that part here. Especially since we've had discussions before in the newsgroup on the erotic uses of cotton briefs...
[I had liberally used lube (Astroglide, great stuff) during the phone chat, rubbed all over everything; then:]
I left my cock and balls all wet with the lube inside my briefs, and went home and ate some food and watched a little TV. But my mind was pretty much on my hot member that whole time, and I'd sneak my hand in for a furtive feel every so often. The only person who'd have noticed is my (female) housemate, and she probably wouldn't have remarked on it as long as I didn't whip it out visibly or anything blatant like that. Anyway, a lot of the slipperiness had been absorbed, but things were still deliciously damp and soft, and still downright slick in some areas. I enjoyed caressing the little crevice at the top where my dick just begins to jut out from the pelvis, feeling my still-very-short but now nicely thickened, wet pubic hairs (shaven off a month ago, you may recall) and the smooth dampness all around there, and moving my fingertips up and down, pushing into the somewhat sticky and sexily spongy cock flesh; and also down on the other end, just beneath my balls, where it was equally sticky and responsive to massages. And all these nice naughty bits were delightfully warm from earlier, uh, exercise. Still with the underwear on, which meant that its warm, damp, cotton surface was pressing against the back of my hand. Sometimes I find that NOT being entirely naked around there can be just as nice as baring it all.
After teasing myself this way for the duration of the TV show, which fortuitously featured some languid saxophone jazz that was just right for my mood, I finally went to bed in a pretty hot, hard state. Continuing the wet skivvies theme, I kept them on, lying on my back and pawing myself with increasing abandon, both under the fabric and on the outside. Then, something else I hadn't done in a while: I reached around, pulled up the lower rear edges of the shorts toward the base of my spine and yanked up on the rear waistband quite hard, so that the cloth was now tightly pulled and "thonged" (good quality stuff, didn't rip), pressing firmly against my asshole and providing prostate pressure that's a hell of a rush when you're already well worked up. Flexing thigh and buttock muscles, creating opposing tensions in a number of arousing ways, and best of all: seeing and feeling my now-bulging hard cock straining fiercely against the taut, sensuous cotton in front, its head mostly peeking out above the band actually; rubbing against its tingly underside (which is the upper part in this position) through the fabric with my palm, feeling its hungry, gorged flesh press back and seemingly expand as my palm let up on the pressure, while pulling with the other hand to increase still more the cloth pressure agasint the groin, driving me quite wild, squirms and pawings of now-nicely-curved ass-muscles and leg flexes and buttock flexes and heavy erratic breathing rather on the wild side -- too intense to apply any discplined starts and stops to draw it out further -- and then the approach of the irreversible flood of jism dying for release ... as much postponement of the end as possible, but then total, smile-inducing capitulation: the palm that had been pressing from outside now goes under the cloth, covering the head, just a few hot presses of flesh hard against hard-but-still-giving-and-re- expanding cock flesh, breath tightly held, and GUSH! Not sure, but I think I must have screamed briefly. Mr. Happy and Mr. Happy's helping hand both very well coated, hot and slick.
I found I could not wear those same jockeys the next day ;^)
Happy wanking, all.
Rich / zermelo@eddie.mit.edu