2 comments/ 21768 views/ 2 favorites The Wank By: iconisclass My wife is incredibly beautiful and sexy. We are happy and comfortable together and make love regularly. Our sex life is never dull as we both enjoy vivid imaginations and experiment openly with each other's fantasies. There is only one thing my sex life lacks: the wank. As a teenager I masturbated constantly. Even after "scoring" with girls, and even while dating regularly, I enjoyed finding some quiet time alone and pulling my pole. When I confided this to Sharon, she completely understood. She agreed with me that my dick was incredibly handsome. Tall, thick and well proportioned; tan in color and capped by a large soft head, my dick -- if I must say so myself -- is a wonderful specimen. Watching my dick, slick with oil get stroked by my right hand as my left hand stimulates my balls, ass and nipples, brings me incredible pleasure. Indeed Sharon takes pleasure in giving me hand jobs for precisely that reason: watching my beautiful dick reach climax is a rush. Recently I was called out of town on business. While most men would see this as an opportunity to pick up some strange pussy at the hotel bar, I was planning on two days of serious self-indulgence. Sharon fucked me well and hard the night before I left and kissed me on the cheek at the airport. At one point, having confided in her my plan, she patted my crotch and warned: "Don't wear him out, there's a wet pussy waiting for him when he gets home." God I love my wife! The plane was almost empty, and I thought I would have the three seats in my row to myself. But just before takeoff an attractive stewardess came rushing onto the plane and sat next to me. She explained that she was off duty, but being flown ahead to catch a later connection. I sympathized with her for having such a demanding and hectic job. She just looked at me hard for a moment, winked, and said, "it has it's perks." Twenty minutes into the flight and my stewardess companion had fallen asleep on my shoulder. When I shifted at one point, her head fell to my lap and she curled her feet up onto her seat. I read on in my paperback, but was soon distracted by friction near my nether region. The off-duty stewardess was rubbing my cock. No longer interested in my novel, I watched for any sign that somebody had noticed. The plane was silent, people either read or slept. My private stewardess had pulled her blanket over her head and her head over my cock. She sucked me to a beautiful orgasm and swallowed every drop. "Welcome to the mile-high club," she smiled as she brought her head up. I didn't have the heart to tell her that Sharon and I had fucked in the toilet over the Atlantic. "By the way, you have a fantastic cock, where are you staying?" I shouldn't have told her. She found me that night at the bar, just as I was preparing to go upstairs for my wank. "I had to find you, I'm sorry. I kept thinking about the size of your... your... you know. Well I really want it in me. I hate to be so direct, but... well... I did suck your dick earlier." We went to my room and fucked. Don't get me wrong. It was a great tumble. This stewardess had great skin a beautiful face, sporty firm breasts with perky little nips and a most delicious looking cunt. Do you like those cunts with the big lips hanging down? I don't usually, but hers, shaved, was somehow very attractive. I took her from on top, doggy style and let her ride cowboy in a few different directions. I'm certain she had a great time. Towards morning, she sneeked out and I slept in. I awoke satisfied, but sporting a large erection. This was my chance. I pulled out the bottle of oil and spread it on my hands and dick. There were remnants of my cum and her fluids encrusted on my dick and I thought of first taking a shower. But I had already anointed my erection and it looked so sexy, shiny and stiff. Up and down slowly I began stroking my already turgid member. Closing my eyes for just a few moments, I envisioned the stewardess's ass bouncing up and down on me. I remembered watching Sharon get fucked once by four guys. I was working myself up good and horny when I opened my eyes to watch my beautiful cock flex, stiffen and eventually spray. But my eyes fell upon a different beauty. The stewardess had apparently knocked off the "Do Not Disturb" sign during her exit and Camilla the maid had inadvertently walked in on my performance. She looked distinctly unattractive in her black and white maid's uniform (not my fetish guys, sorry). But her pretty face held the most comical and yet hungry expression. One of us had to say something, and with her little mouth puckered in the "O" shape for so long, I guessed it would have to be me. "Did I forget to put the 'do not disturb' sign?" "No worry." "Do you want to come back later?" "Misser, dono get me in trouble, but I's a gotta watch dis. You got one gorgeous pepe." "You got a name?" "Camilla," she answered and then added,"Oh fuck. I gonna get fired and divorced and the Saints are gonna send me to hell fiya, but I cain't look at dat gorgeous tool and not ha some o' dat." And Camilla threw down the hand towel she was holding and then all of her clothes. What damage a uniform can do. Had she asked me for a fuck while dressed, I'd have probably turned her down, but she didn't ask. She just stripped and then this very thin but very heavily busomed lady crawled on top of me. Then, with her melon-sized mammories on my chest and bulbous ass in my hand, she asked me if we could fuck. It was a mere formality as I was already in her at the time. This wench could fuck. Her bubble ass had engines all its own. Her heavy chest smothered my face to my distinct pleasure while her hips flexed and pumped, jumped and humped all over my rigid rod. This maid began cumming and wouldn't stop. Her vaginal walls constricted and released like a boa constrictor in heat. I lay prone. There was nothing for me to do. Morning erections are programmed to pee, not cum, and it usually takes some work to switch the programming. Not with this babe though, her dick massaging tunnel was pulling the jism right out of my balls and I shot a healthy load right into her. She didn't stop. My dick was already semi-limp, but even then it's long and thick. Her pussy was so slick and open she could have fucked a sponge. I just passed my time sucking at her large round breasts while her hip dance continued, making me hard again. "Now yo' turn." Camilla announced once she felt me rigid again. "You now fucka dis bit up m'ass." She rolled off me and got into position on her hands and knees. She really had a bubble ass: two round orbs with a valley between. My dick was still slick with the oil I'd applied and the maid's juices, so poking her anus wasn't so hard. Still, compared to her wide open cunt, Camilla's ass was tight. Now it was my turn to work as I pumped my long pole in and out of her. She used one hand for support, and another to rub her clit and stuff her pussy alternatively. I could feel the ripples of her orgasm rushing trough her, but not with the same intensity as when I was in her vagina. She kept rubbing and I kept pumping and then she screamed, "holy Jesus!" and squirted a load of liquid onto the bedspread beneath us. I wasn't close to cumming, but Camilla had had her fill. She pulled off and began sucking my dick. I was surprised that she'd take my spunky dick in her mouth. Her ass had not been cleaned and I could swear I saw brown streaks on my prick. But she sucked away unhesitatingly and I couldn't help but wonder how well she cleaned bathrooms. Her oral ministrations did the trick and soon I was ejaculating on her fantastic bosom. As she rubbed the cum into her skin she smiled wickedly and asked if I'd let her skip cleaning my room so as not to cause a delay that could bring attention to our rule violation. Feeling good and generous to this stranger who'd given me her body, I acquiesced. Besides, I wanted her gone so that I could shower and dress and still catch breakfast. The conference was starting in 45 Minutes. The day was long. The presentations were interesting, but they were still lectures, leaving me seated for hours at a time, doodling and daydreaming about my eventual wank. Of course, between the stewardess and the maid, I couldn't say I was sexually frustrated, but now I had more food for my fantasies. But food, food, I hadn't had. I only managed a coffee and croissant at breakfast and came into a late lunch starving. Meal times at these business conventions are great times to mingle and get to know new contacts better. I sat with a guy named Todd from Detroit, and Matt from San Diego. Pretty soon the conversation left our trade and turned to sex. Apparently, there were all these hookers scouting the hotel bar and Todd and Matt were comparing the prices of blow jobs. Todd was taking the somewhat moral high-ground and refusing to even consider paying for sex. Matt was saying that the money was a small price to pay for total non-commitment, no hang-up sex, and no threat of word getting home to upset your wife. I told them I could wait three days and catch up on my TV watching. Using desert as an excuse I got up and joined an informal group that had formed in one corner debating some of the issues presented. I didn't know anybody in the group, but didn't need to, these groups were spontaneous and as good a chance to make a contact as any. Then again, as I listened in, I couldn't believe how seriously some of these guys were taking their material. I got bored and went for more coffee. The next session was about to begin anyway. Sitting down in the conference hall, I noticed a tall brunette whom I'd seen in the discussion group by the deserts. She looked just like Sharon, but with darker skin, black hair, and less in the chest. There weren't a lot of women at the conference, and such an attractive one was clearly drawing stares. But during the impromptu discussion group of a few minutes previous, she had been staring at me. Now, she was clearly approaching me. "Mind if I join you?" Could I refuse? We introduced ourselves, and I tried to think of questions that would reveal to me why she chose to sit next me. But the presentation started and I was none the wiser. Ten minutes into the lecture my mind was wandering. This guy spoke English with a heavy Indian accent and I couldn't follow. Inadvertently, I began doodling in the margins of my notebook. First, the doodles were random lines and shapes, but they became, as they often do, reflecting my subconscious, curves and shadows that belong to the female form. As a certain pair of orbs came into form as Camilla's breasts, I suddenly became self-conscious and feared my female neighbor would take offense. As I rubbed the nipples out, Debbie leaned over and touched my hand to stop me. "I saw you doodling in the last session. That's why I sat next to you. You guys aren't the only ones daydreaming about sex during the presentations." I took the hint. Soon I was drawing full-out sex scenes. My notebook was beginning to resemble the kama sutra. I was so absorbed in and pleased with my artistic talent that I didn't notice Debbie squirming in her seat. Later she told me that she could masturbate by squeezing her thighs together and that my pictures turned her on so much that she reached orgasm right there and nearly cried out loud. She told me all that while we were in the elevator up to her room. The sessions had ended and we had twenty minutes before supper. She insisted I come help her choose her clothes, but when we got to her room, she didn't seem inclined to put any on. What can I tell you? My cock had not had so much female attention in weeks. Between the stewardess and Camilla, I had been drained. Now, with all of Debbie's dutiful ministrations, I couldn't even get it up. Debbie was a good cock-sucker, but wasn't getting anywhere. I felt her frustration and pushed her onto the bed and dove into her snatch where I licked her to two and a half orgasms. The half orgasm was what I call it when a woman has climaxed and you keep going, and she keeps going, but asks you to stop because it's too sensitive. It's as if she would cum with two more licks or thrusts, but fears the inner explosion. So, out of respect, I stop, but I count it as half an orgasm. Debbie pulled my head up by my hair and begged me to stop. "I've cum twice already. Can't take any more. Why don't you get yourself hard and fuck me?" "I'm fucked out, I'm afraid.." "Oh, is your wife here with you?" "No, but I spent the morning jerking off." It was easier to lie than explain the whole "do not enter" thing. And wanking was what I wanted to do anyway. "Really?" Debbie giggled. "Not a lot of guys would admit that." "I'm not shy. With a cock like this wouldn't you want to pull your own rope?" "Absolutely! And I still want to pull yours. Will you give me a rain check so I can start you out with a hand job and feel your monster inside me?" "Maybe after dinner." "Can we do it at your place? My husband may call and then I feel all shitty." "Room 410", Sharon would've been pissed at me for fucking a cheating woman. She believed in full disclosure. I would tell her that she's too naive. Plus she had no qualms about fucking married women who hid their lesbianism from their husbands. "It's not the same thing." She'd say, but has yet to convince me. I ate dinner with Matt and Todd. Debbie had a previous arrangement made with some Japanese agents. I was just as happy not to be seen with her. We'd be the talk of the town. Todd was already all over it. "That babe that sat next to you at the last session, d'you get lucky?" "If you mean sex, then no." "She's from Texas. Word has it she's a nympho and fucks guys at every convention." "So go hit on her man!" I encouraged. "She told me her name's Debbie." "Go for it, Todd!" Matt chimed in. "Oh yeah, Matt? Like you and that high-school kid?" Matt, I was then told, had propositioned a hooker in the bar after lunch. Only the woman turned out to be a girl and the daughter of the bar tender. A shouting match ensued and Matt almost took a fist to the head. "The bitch is, I can't drink in the bar tonight." When I got to my room after dinner, I closed the door and smiled. I relished the quiet. Nothing left to do today. I was going to wank! Then I passed through the hall between the closet and bathroom, and frowned. My room was as messy as it when I'd left. I'd let Camilla get out of cleaning my room, and if I called maid-service now, she'd get screwed, figuratively this time. Somberly I set about clearing up. There really wasn't that much to do. No clothes on the floor, and the loose papers on the desk didn't bother me. But Camilla had squirted when I ass-fucked her, and there was a somewhat repulsive stain on the bedspread. The sheets, thankfully, were clean. I made the bed and straightened up a bit, all done in the nude. I was home alone and warming up to service my beautiful cock. As I walked around the room my penis became semi-stiff and bobbed in front of me. Casually, every-so-often, I would run my hand up the shaft or play with my balls. My cock would get stiffer and stiffer. I remembered that I did have to read a 2-page report before the morning session and lay on the bed to read. As I concentrated on the text, my cock jealous for attention, became rock hard, reaching it's full extension. Putting the report aside, and bunching all the pillows behind my back, I looked down at my glorious erection and decided it was time. I spread my legs out to either side and adjusted my ball sack, pulling it up and away from the sheets. Taking the baby-oil bottle in hand, I dribbled some on my cock-head and began rubbing it in. Two or three tentative fist strokes and I took my hands away to rub my thighs and balls, my chest and stomach. My cock was pointing straight at the ceiling and gently rocking with the coursing blood running through its heavy veins. I was just about to start rubbing in earnest when there came a knock on the door. My voice hardly disguised my frustration when I shouted, "who is it?" "Debbie!" Shit, I'd forgotten about her. I debated putting a robe on, but figured I knew what she was here for. I opened the door slowly, making sure it wasn't Matt with a practical joke, and let Debbie in when I saw she was alone. When she saw me and my erect state she smiled eagerly. "Oohh, is that for me?! Oh my God, you're huge! Oh my, oh my, oh oh oh." Her excitement just kept building, in no small part because she was taking off her clothes as fast as she could. There were no sticklers for foreplay here. Debbie lay down naked on my bed and spread her legs. She began rubbing and fingering herself and told me to keep stroking my hard on. "Oh, man, I see you had no trouble getting hard now. You gonna fuck me with that thing?" "That can be arranged." "You gonna cum on me?" "You like it in you or on you?" "No, not in me, never in me. Squirt on my ass or stomach." "What about in your hair and on your face?" "You need it there, baby? You need to spray on my face?" "I need some fucking before I cum." Debbie didn't apparently. I'd been standing in front of her slowly stroking my hard-on while we debated the future placement of my seed. Debbie meanwhile had rubbed herself to at least one little squeaking orgasm. I was standing close enough to the bed for her to put her feet on my chest and the feel of her toes on my nipples had warmed me up to the idea of fucking this woman in lieu of enjoying my Wank. Soon I was plowing Debbie's field while standing aside the bed. Her long legs rested on my shoulders and her head was off to the right. Occasionally she would open her eyes, return to the present and smile at me. I could feel her insides fluttering and knew she had reached orgasm a few times. Sharon has what she calls mini-ohs and maxi-ohs. Apparently, Debbie was enjoying lots of mini-ohs. Even when looking at me, there was a glaze in her eyes and she wasn't saying much. Her small breasts were flat to her chest in this position even though when she'd been standing they seemed prominent. "Your cock feels so good inside me." Debbie's voice seemed to come from out of nowhere. We'd entered a meditative zone with me pumping back and forth in a steady rhythm and she rocking her head from side to side softly while her insides fluttered endlessly. Now though, her gaze was focused at my cock penetrating her bushy cunt. Her chin was on her chest and her hands were pinching her nipples. "Here I cum, baby, here I cum!" It sounded like something I might say and almost made me laugh, but then her vaginal walls constricted something fierce. I continued pumping once or twice more, but I wasn't going in and out, just pushing her whole body back and forth. This vice grip held for a minute or two at least and Debbie was curled up off the bed as if she was doing sit-ups. Then with a heavy sigh, Debbie let go: falling to the bed, hands to her side, and her cunt literally popping off my bat. "Damn!" She declared, regaining consciousness with a bolt and hopping up to sit on the edge of the bed. She put my dick in her mouth for some sucking, but also kept talking, making comments on how good a fuck I was and how deep my cock had entered her, and how thick, and so on and so on. As Debbie sucked my dick, I was trying to psych myself into cumming. Just as I was getting close, there was a knock on the door again. Debbie stopped sucking and looked at me questioningly. I just shrugged my shoulders. "Should I get it?" "Like that?" I asked pointing to her naked state. "No, silly, I'll let go of the cock." And then she was up and at the door. "Who is it?" "Room Service." The Wank "We didn't order any." "It's from Camilla." "Who's Camilla?" "You can open up, Debbie," I called from the bed. I had to smile. All this attention was as incredulous as it was comical. I couldn't believe Camilla was back for more. In fact, she wasn't. Debbie opened the door and a young black woman name Charise introduced herself. She explained that she was a friend and co-worker with whom Camilla had shared her naughty tale of our morning romp. "I waited 'till my shift was over, but promised myself to get a piece of your package." She finished off and shyly giggled. "Is this your wife? Did I mess things up?" I began to explain things, but at the same time Debbie just continued sucking my dick. Charise took off her clothes and took over sucking my cock. I didn't know where Debbie had gone until I thought Charise was choking on my dick. In fact, she was cumming as a result of the tongue lashing Debbie was giving her from behind. Debbie stood up with her mouth glistening from Charise's juices and announced that Charise was wet and ready. We disengaged and Charise lay on her back on the bed while I moved between her legs and began fucking her while standing on the floor at the edge of the bed. Debbie crawled onto the bed and squatted on top of Charise's face where she received a good tonguing. Debbie and I kissed on and off and I let my hands alternate between squeezing each of the girl's tits, but soon I was just thinking about cumming. And then again, a knock at the door. This time it was my turn to answer the door. Unlike Debbie, I grabbed a towel first and paused a moment to look back at the bed and the two beautiful women sixty-nining. Again there was a knock at the door, and this time Matt called out: "Hey, It's Matt! You in there?" When I answered the door in my towel he continued, "Oh, sorry man, pull you outta the shower?" "Not just yet." "Well listen, I heard about a pick-up bar down the road, care to join me?" "Um, Matt?" "Yeah?" "You really want to get laid?" "I had it in mind." "Come on in, then." Matt stood transfixed for a few seconds and I literally had to push him into the room in order to close the door. But in no time at all he had joined the team, got buck naked and began fucking Cherise. His interruption had the benefit of chilling my excitement and allowing me to fool around some more before cumming. Since Cherise had rolled on top of Debbie, Matt entered her pussy and I got my dick sucked at the other end, first by Cherise alone and then together with Debbie who had crawled out from under us three. When I was hard again, Debbie suggested that Matt and I double penetrate Cherise. She agreed, but didn't want two dicks in her pussy. I didn't much fancy that idea either. Instead, Cherise mounted me and Matt took her anally from above. Cherise had me in a glorious hug, her nipples landing right on top of mine and her firm, round breasts rubbed between us in the most erotic fashion. Debbie tried briefly to separate us and sit on my face, but Cherise wouldn't have it, instead we locked into a passionate kiss and I could feel her orgasms rolling through her both in her cunt and on her tongue. Debbie moved instead to work on Matt, licking his ass and balls from behind until he pulled out and shot a load all over Cherise's back and Debbie's face. After that, I saw Debbie lay on her back next to us and Matt kneel at the edge of the bed and begin sucking her pussy. Cherise, tired, rolled over next to Debbie and got up off the bed. Debbie and Cherise kissed a bit and rubbed each other's tits. Matt was munching away, taking a moment to look at me and smile. He tried giving me a high-five, but I missed it. I slowly stroked myself watching the scene and began to think about how I wanted to cum. I decided it would be all over Cherise's stomach and breasts. Moving back onto the bed, and straddling Cherise at the waist, I stroked my cock faster and faster. Debbie leaned up, leaving Matt behind and began stroking for me. Matt, meanwhile, got hard enough again to fuck Debbie from behind while she was stroking me. She didn't even seem to notice. With Debbie stroking my cock and fondling my balls and Cherise pinching her nipples and coaxing me on with all sorts of dirty language, I spewed a modest amount of cum onto her abdomen. Cherise and I then hugged and watched Matt cum on Debbie's ass. Debbie sat up and licked his limp wet dick then excused herself to use the bathroom. Cherise was quick to follow and I found myself wondering for the umpteenth time why women go to the bathroom together. "Dude! That was a fantasy come true. How'd you score that?" "Matt, if I told you, you wouldn't believe me." "Go on." "Honest, Matt, I was just trying to jerk off, but all these women came in to bother me." "You're right. I don't believe you. Would 200 cover my half?" "It's on me, Matt." "Nah, man, you gotta let me thank you." "Consider me for that bid in Denver." "Consider it done." And with that Matt got dressed and left with Cherise. Debbie stayed and slept with me for a few hours before going back to her room. Sharon called, waking us up. I thought it was midnight but it wasn't even ten o'clock. Debbie was shocked to hear me openly tell Sharon of our recently finished foursome. Sharon, it turns out, had fucked the mailman twice. I told Debbie that with her libido and bi-sexual tendencies, she should really consider telling her husband and becoming a swinger herself. But she admitted that she was a staunch Catholic and cherished the dirty sinning feeling and didn't want her fucking around to become acceptable behavior. Whatever. I returned home to Sharon without incident, but also without my self-indulgence. Sharon laughingly pitied me. Or shall I say, pitied and mocked me at the same time. She fucked me and then gave me hand jobs 'till I came. It wasn't bad, but it wasn't the same. Me, I just play with my pecker in the shower and hum the old Joe Walsh tune with that classic line: "I can't complain, but sometimes I still do." The Wankathon LLOYD had been the life and soul of the club ever since he started working behind the bar. A bit of an exhibitionist, attention seeker even, you couldn't quite call him stunning: thin, buck-toothed and with protruding ears, yet he had that certain twinkish element about him which belied his 25 years. Certainly the guys hovered around him like flies around a honey pot, and it wasn't long before I found out why. It seems he's a bit of a goer in the bedroom, and had taken more than a few of the customers back to the little apartment in another part of the building that goes with the job. Tom, even, had been well and truly caught out being jacked off by him in the johns, his groans alerting those passing the door. Tom confided in me later it was the best hand job he'd enjoyed in a long while. And it hadn't cost him a cent. Lloyd had shown little interest in me, however, and I'd have been rather reticent to get to grips with such a goer anyhow, in case I didn't come up to scratch. I'd always been the shy type of guy who kept himself to himself. But his impish grin as he welcomed me most nights of the week did send a shiver down my spine, and a judder to my crotch. So when Lloyd came up with the idea of a wankathon to raise money to send some guy from the club who had a terminal illness on a last dream vacation, I was all ears. Not to mention cock. It seemed he was offering to try to jack off 30 guys in an hour, in the club, if they all contributed 50 euros each towards the vacation fund. At first I'd been wary of being tossed off in public, terrified even, but egged on by the others I soon reasoned it would be OK if there were 29 other guys being done as well. And wasn't it all in a good cause? Anyhow, I'd long been intrigued by Tom's tale of his close encounter with Lloyd, and Tom had been among the first to pledge his 50 euros. So I dug deep and produced the cash, putting my name down on a list of wankees on the notice board that was soon three quarters full. Lloyd was obviously a popular guy, and I was by now seriously looking forward to the event. As the big day approached, with the last few places now slow to fill, Lloyd made a further announcement. He told us if he managed to jack us all off within the prescribed hour, he'd indulge in full sex with the ultimate one to spill his load. That soon did the trick, and within minutes Lloyd had his 30 names and their cash. We all trooped into the dance hall on the day, those being wanked and an equal number of voyeurs just there for the thrill, all wondering how this would all work out. Richie, the club secretary, had somehow managed to get half a dozen old sofas from somewhere, lined up in the middle of the dance floor covered in towels and sheets. Suddenly Lloyd bounced into the room, and announced that a draw would take place to see in which order we'd be wanked. I desperately didn't want to be first, embarrassed by the thought of setting the standard in moaning and groaning as Lloyd worked the magic I'd heard so much about. The names were called out, and I thought I'd missed hearing mine. But there it was, at number 30. I was aghast and thrilled. I really didn't want to wait through all those guys being tossed off before my turn came. Imagine the shame if I got so excited I'd just cum of my own accord. And I'd be so embarrassed if all the attention focused on me and my cock if Lloyd was still on target to do us all in 60 minutes. Then it struck home. Number 30? That meant if he managed us all in that hour, it'd be me who'd be floating off dreamily to that apartment. I'd be the one enjoying a 69 with him, more wanking perhaps, or a chance to put my meat in his ass. Maybe he'd straddle me. Or I'd straddle him. I imagined him lunging at my ass doggie-fashion, pounding away at my love ring. My mind was all in a tizz, and it took some grunting coming from the first sofa for me to realise that Lloyd was already at work. The first guy was still almost fully clothed, but with his T-shirt pulled up over his midriff and the buttons of his jeans fully undone. It didn't seem long before he was ejaculating loudly, and grinned his thanks as the assembled voyeurs and others waiting to be jacked off offered him a round of applause. Oh God, I thought to myself, how embarrassing. Applause! But the guy didn't seem to mind. The squidgy sound of flesh being pumped on the second sofa was already underway as Richie, looking self-important with his stop-watch although he'd chickened out of being wanked himself, announced that the first guy had lasted four minutes. Four minutes! I was horrified. At that rate, Lloyd would surely never toss us all off in an hour. I had visions of the apartment door being slammed in my face. But the second guy was evidently hornier, and only lasted 90 seconds before letting out a strange warbling noise as his cum spurted over Lloyd's hand. That's better, I thought. The next hour or so passed in a dream of screams, groans and gurgles as Lloyd moved down the line at pace, each ejaculation met my loud whooping and clapping from the assembled audience. The thought of being applauded for shooting my load made me come out in a cold sweat, but what the heck, it'd be worth it if it meant getting into that apartment. Just me and him, a pack of condoms and some lube. Then at last, it was my turn. The guy next to me had set Lloyd a stiff challenge and lasted some three minutes, his eyes rolling in his head as he finally succumbed with explosive effect. I'd had my shirt up and flies undone since some three guys earlier, and my dick stood unashamedly proud as Lloyd finally approached. In any other circumstances I'd rather have been dead than display my erection in front of a gang of cheering mates, but I did so much want to get into that apartment. His hand felt strangely cool to the touch as he cupped my knob with his fingers, before clasping his palm onto my cock and weaving it up and down. "57 minutes," Richie announced to cheers. We still had three minutes. Surely this master wanker could jack off me in three whole minutes. That's 180 seconds. He'll surely manage 500 strokes on my cock in that time. I surely just had to cum. The apartment door swung open in a vivid day dream, Lloyd spread out invitingly on the floor, beckoning at me to enjoy his body. Suddenly I heard the chairs being re-arranged all around us, and all the other guys crowding in, as Lloyd worked furiously at my cock. Those who'd already been tossed off sat there with fresh bulges in their pants. Then it dawned on me. Oh no. A dagger of fear struck at my heart. I'd totally misunderstood. These guys were getting ready for the main act. They were getting into prime position to WATCH Lloyd having full sex with me. We were to be a lurid exhibition of flesh and spunk. There'd be no visit to the apartment for me. Lloyd was obviously relishing the thought, but I was petrified. Not in public. Not me. I just couldn't. I mean, a wank is one thing, but being fucked in full public view.... My cock was taking a pounding as my tormentor tried to apply the final touch. "One minute left." I heard Richie's voice through the mist of fear that had descended over me. One minute! Surely I could last just a mere minute. I tried to think other thoughts, to take my mind away from the very live drama I was a central character in. I saw clouds scuttling across the sky, I revisited my childhood. I saw mother baking in the kitchen, father sawing logs. Then the dam burst. I heard loud cheers and I felt warm cum spurting over my midriff in huge spasmic surges. That demented groan I heard couldn't possibly have been me. Could it? They soon tugged off my shirt and pants, my so-called friends, as Richie handed Lloyd some lube and condoms and shook his hand in congratulation. That damned hand that had brought this huge embarrassment upon me. Dropping his shirt and pants on the floor, Lloyd turned to face me, a huge thick pole throbbing between his legs. The guys shuffled their chairs even closer as he stepped towards me, flashing his impish grin as he extracted a condom from its pack... The Wanker Watched This experience happened only a couple of years ago. I was travelling to Stornoway to visit a friend and was staying the night in Ullapool. I had planned to catch the early morning ferry as a foot passenger the next day, leaving my car in Ullapool. I had arrived quite early in the afternoon and it was a glorious day, too good to just sit in the hotel. I decided to take a walk in the hills above the town. But what to wear? The weather had caught me out completely. I had only brought heavy kilts with me as the weather up there is usually grim and, when I had packed in southern England, a week before, there had been no indication on the forecast that it would be so warm. I was wearing my old Colquhoun tartan kilt which was one of the lightest weight ones I had with me. I had a pair of thin green trews as underwear but they were still too hot! I did consider taking off the trews and wearing just the kilt with nothing underneath but then, I thought, why not reverse it, take off the kilt and just wear my trews? But the plain green trews I had on were very short and skimpy and looked too much like underwear. What if I wore my tartan trews? They would look like regular tartan shorts, not underwear at all. I pulled on the trews then put on my hiking boots in place of the brogues that I had been wearing. I had no short socks with me so should I wear the kilt hose up as usual, or down by the ankles? I looked in the mirror and it didnt look right with all that sock bunched up down on the ankle so I pulled them up again. They still had the red flashes and I thought that they added rather than detracted from the overall look. It felt quite sexy to be dressed this way with kilt underwear as an outer garment. So I strode out. Quite a few glances in the hotel lobby as you can imagine but I didn't mind. There was no need to go through the village, only past a few houses, since the hotel was on the edge of the village very near the hill path. It was steep but I managed to climb quite quickly and was soon rewarded with an excellent view across the loch. There were only a few other people on the path, one or two walking dogs, a couple on their own, and that was it. Most gave a double take at my tartan shorts but wished me Good Day as we passed. As I climbed higher there was nobody else and I thought that I had left the walkers behind. Before I left the hotel I had had a thought -- why not have a wank out in the open air? Which is why I had taken a little tube of KY with me Here I was in a deserted area and beginning to feel sexy at the thought of what I was going to do. I had not brought myself off for a couple of days so there was a growing pressure down there. In the previous days I had felt too tired after all the driving then after a good dinner with drinks the urge had left me. At the thought of how exactly I might pleasure myself, I began to feel rising excitement with a hardon growing down the leg of my trews. The forward, backward movement of my thigh inside the tartan leg, as I walked, actually felt very good as my cock was being alternately squeezed and released. I looked down and was gratified to see a good bulge forming. I looked round, nobody about, either ahead of me, or behind me, on the path . I took a little rub at my bulge. Yes, it was growing nicely! I had that nice feeling in my tummy when I start to feel sexy. I continued to rub. Then I sensed that I was being watched. You know how you get that feeling sometimes? But there was nobody around. Then I saw him, high above me in the heather. He blended well with the background. He had binoculars! And they were trained on me!! He was probably a bird watcher, I thought, hence blending in so well with the background. I was very embarrassed at having been caught and turned away. I quickly lost my erection as I moved on. I walked for a few hundred yards and then round the next corner of the path. At least I was out of sight of my birdwatcher! I scanned the hill above me very carefully this time and there was nobody around. I had just started to raise myself again when I saw a movement on the ridge I had passed when I had turned the corner on the path. It was him again! He settled down with his binoculars trained on me. He was a lot closer this time and his binoculars looked heavy and powerful. He must have been able to see everything in considerable detail. I had previously been embarrassed at being caught by him watching me unexpectedly but now he had made a deliberate move to look at me made it all totally different. "Well, if that's the way you want it!" I said to myself. I turned to face him full on and started rubbing the bulge in my trews. His glasses didn't waver. I normally keep my penis hanging down the left leg of my trews and, as it grows, I like to feel the pressure against the tartan material as it tries to come upright. If I am wearing shortish loose trews like the Colquhoun ones I had on then, I can get the glans to appear out of the leg opening. This I did, looking straight at him, or rather at his glasses, since they hid most of his face. I was beginning to enjoy having an audience for my wank. Then I undid the fly, felt around inside the trews, and lifted my penis out. I felt around some more and pulled the balls out too. I was wearing a cock ring behind my balls which makes me feel sexier. So there was all my sex on full view, sticking out of the front of my trews. I was otherwise fully dressed, hiking boots, kilts hose, with flashes, tartan shorts, and a dark green polo top. So all quite modest except for this nice contrast of bare sex parts sticking out.. I must have looked a sight -- an elderly gent in tartan kilt underwear masturbating himself on a deserted path on the hillside. A bit sad, with nobody to do it with, but at least I had an interested audience. I wished that I could have seen his expression. The glasses hadn't even wavered! He was still looking as I got out my little tube of KY and began the gentle business of bringing my penis to full erection. It was already big, but only half hard, sticking out, rather than the curving up aspect when I reach a full hardon. Well, I soon brought myself off, very satisfactorily, spurting semen into the heather. There was quite a lot of it after my abstinence for a few days. It was a great feeling as the orgasm took over with the involuntary pulsing of the muscles as they drained my spunk.. Afterwards I felt shattered, especially doing it standing up. I think it is more tiring that way. When I eventually looked up, my birdwatching friend had disappeared. Just as well, I thought!. I wouldn't really have wanted to meet him face to face after that!!