In my last story I told you how I wanked off a stranger while giving him a massage in the beauty salon I work at in London. It was an incredibly erotic experience, and not something I ever thought I'd do, but afterwards I had time to think about what this all meant to me, and what I was going to do about it.
Read on...
Star Trekking Just Got Fun
Going home night was just ever so slightly weird. My post-not-quite-shag chat with Chris, as his name turned out to be (we did actually get around to swapping names) revealed that he was not actually with his girlfriend, but his sister. He was currently single and had been making do with wanking off to porn for a while, so my spectacular handjob had been the first real action he'd had in a few weeks. While finding it hard to believe that such a monster cock ever found itself redundant, I also realised that I was the only one in the room being less than faithful to their other half.
I wasn't sure how to feel about this revelation on the way home on the tube. I had got away with the deed itself. By the time Chris left the salon with his sister, no one else was any the wiser and a comment from Alison, the receptionist, about me looking slightly flushed was easily deflected with a mumbled comment about the muggy weather. So all I had to deal with were the feelings of guilt. That is, the fact I had none. It was a total blast and I loved it. I knew I should be worrying about my partner, what I'd done etc, but in all honesty all I felt was the return of the familiar itch to get a nice big cock inside me. I needed to fuck.
I got home just after 6, and Greg was already in, collapsed on the sofa watching one of the trash sci-fi series he seems so keen on. What is a Star Trek anyway? Surely you fly between the stars - don't get me started on that one. After almost two year's argument we have reached an unspoken agreement that I won't moan about his TV shows and he stops taking the piss out of the reality TV that I find so addictive. He was a fireman, worked shifts and he'd been home since 2:30. Under the normal living together contract terms and that gave him TV rights until after we'd eaten. However, "I have other plans for you, matey boy" thinks I, dropping my coat and heading into the bathroom to go for a pee.
Refreshed, I sauntered out and leaned over the back of the chair, blowing into his ear. He swatted me away, clearly more attracted to Seven-of-Something-or-Other on the TV rather than the gorgeous, and real, creature (me!) who was blatantly in the mood for some hanky-panky. Not to be so easily put off, I eased myself around in front of him and knelt down between his knees. The miserable sod actually leaned sideways a little so he could around me, unbelievable. I swear he's starting to take me for granted just a little bit too much, and a tinge of annoyance was starting to seep around my horniness. After the very large vote of appreciation I had been given earlier in the day, no way was this guy going to resist me.
I lowered my head so he could see over me, and put myself level with his groin. I was pleased to see from the bulge that he was pretty hard already, and then realised it wasn't for me. I'd only been here a few seconds, and Greg never got aroused so quickly. It usually took a couple of minutes of some good old foreplay to get his motor running. I glanced up and could see he hadn't taken his eyes off the screen. Looking around I saw the screen was filled with a shock of blond hair, "kiss me now" lips, and a pair of unfeasibly large tits in a red Lycra jumpsuit. The bastard was horny for the girl on screen. Had he been wanking himself before I came in and disturbed his fun? I was shocked, and for just a second was considering flying into a jealous, but righteous, rage when I had a flashback of what I'd been up to not so long ago. Maybe this was the solution. Maybe this was how I could balance up the books and justify not feeling the least bit guilty?
Greg looked down and realised he'd been caught out. Looking alarmed, he squirmed back onto the sofa a bit, and started to say something when I reached up and put a finger on his lips to stop him.
"It's OK babe" I said, "she is rather hot"
(I hated to say it, but the bitch even looked good to me), and was rewarded with a confused look which turned curious as I reached between his legs and started to unzip he jeans. I kept looking him in the eye while I slowly undid him and then focused my attention on his crotch and reached inside. His shorts were already pushed down out of the way. So the swine had been wanking off to the Lycra clad bimbo, he must have just yanked his jeans up when he heard my key in the door and then pretended to be all nonchalant. The urge to squeeze his balls just bit harder than necessary passed as I reminded myself of the huge cock that had shot spunk all over my face that very day. I eased his semi hard cock out and as I leaned in to take the head into my mouth it reached its very respectable 7 inch full length in record time.
