The following is a fictional tale for your pleasure. Don't be shy with ideas, comments or correspondence.
The Stranger ------------
Your heart was pounding harder as you walked up the stairs.
You didn't actually know where you were headed and looking back later you would realize it wasn't any one direct action or decision that had you on this course, but something had compelled you in a way you weren't familiar with and you'd surrendered to the instinct.
Arriving at the second floor you wandered around innocuously looking for it. Not "seeing" anyone else or even noting their presence, your attention was focused only on finding it quickly and in a few minutes you did.
Upon entry, the room appeared empty and you felt relieved for some reason. Perhaps you wouldnt be tested. Perhaps you could "forget" what brought you here. Perhaps it never happened. But you didnt turn and leave. Rather, you kept moving forward as if from inertia, sitting down in the far corner to wait.
In the quiet you eye'd your surroundings, acknowledging that all you'd overheard about it appeared to be true.
..."That's the place to look"...
Contrary to the absolute silence, your heart was pounding as if you'd been running.
Perhaps you had.
Your eyes look up at the sound of the door. Your unable to see anyone, but are sure someone has entered and your breath stop short...waiting..
The still unseen stranger takes a seat next to you and for the first time you touch yourself - reaching between your legs to squeeze your balls tightly! Ahhhhh...the delicious sensations cause you're eyes to close slightly. Precum has been at the tip of your hardon for minutes already.
Then you hear it....that unmistakable sound breaks the silence. You are at the nexus. The point of no return. The defining moment that you'd silently searched out.
Stroking your hardon softly, you bend ever so slightly (since not much bending was required because of the "re-design") and in a moment your able to see and watch a beautiful hardon being stroked ever so gently!
Again you'd squeezed your nuts - only harder! Oh yes....this was quite a sight and the stiffness of your cock, the sharp-eyed focus of your mind gave evidence of your desires.
Slowly, sweetly, your stranger-friend worked his pole - "he must know I'm watching him" you'd thought excitedly. You felt a compulsion to to run your mouth up and down that beautiful shaft...playing him like a harmonica!
"Mmmmmmm..." you'd murmured audibly and his hand quickened. "Yess..." he'd answered softly. The river of precum running out and over his dickhead had you salivating - your own cock screaming for attention and release, but all you did was continue massaging and squeezing your balls like a vise.
Never having actually seen a mans hardon in real life, the sensation in the pit of your stomach told you that this was were your true needs lie. No woman had ever had this overall effect on you. No cunt the object of this attention.
His breathing got got shorter. His hand action more frenzied....moments later, as if with a huff of breath the first jet of cum shot out! "Ohhhhyeahh....." you'd rewarded him. His breathing belied his "distress" as he continued to pump himself dry.
"Very nice....." you'd whispered..."very nice"....
And all too quickly he was "cleaned-up" and gone. No word spoken to stop him - your mind wasn't working very clearly at the time - and you'd concluded later, you'd both gotten what you were after.
You'd brought yourself off in seconds following his departure. The pole of fire that was your cock couldn't withstand much more torture before giving up its wealth - and you'd left as you'd come...but with a difference. You were more confident to look those watching in the eyes, their thoughts less of concern of yours somehow.
You'd repeat this "hand-dance" with the stranger many more times, coming to "know" each other this way and eventually your fantasy would become real...and your tongue would run the length of his delicious shaft as it protruded through the large opening!
Please direct any ideas, comments or correspondence to: aytouns@hotmail.com