Hiking The Springs Pt 02

Relaxing in the spa at my condo complex on Monday evening, bombarded by bubbles that did their best to stimulate every part of my womanly body all at once, and accompanied with a second glass of wine -- surreptitiously disguised as an oversized bottle of diet cola, I wondered what I was doing pursuing a boy with a micro-penis when my vagina is as lonely as the crew of a one-man submarine. Realizing that I was running my hands up and down the stiff contours of the plastic bottle only made further mockery of my situation.

Warm water stirs my passions, and I hoped that none of my neighbors were watching me.

Stubby is many years my junior, isn't pursuing me, and didn't have the good manners to give me his name when we met, even after I first provided him with mine. Moreover, he exposes himself publicly -- sitting naked in a desert hot spring where women constantly berate the size of his micro-wiener, which admittedly is laughably tiny.

A hot spring that plays with my libido like a rag doll, but somehow, doesn't affect him one bit.

And two hours of preening and 'getting handsy' with him didn't bring the boy any closer to getting an erection. Nor did seductively licking the tip of my water bottle, repeatedly, or adjusting the coverage of my top. The boy was entirely naked, sitting at my side for two hours. Is it too much to ask for a naked boy at the apex of his sexuality to sport a stiffy for a woman who is also at the apex of her sexuality?

What was I thinking? What can this boy possibly offer me? Stubby is a pathetic boy, shameless, and is clearly too small to ever satisfy any woman. Certainly, he's too small to satisfy ME. Would I ever want to run the risk of being seen again with him in public? It's also probably too much to ask a boy who goes naked in public to demonstrate good manners.

When we said good-bye, oh how I wanted to slide my adventurous hands down that boy's muscular chest to play with his little acorn that I imagined would soon grow into a mighty oak. To coax his miniature member to adult status. I could have toyed with that tiny todger all afternoon -- to make him grow to respectable dimensions.

Something so large that it would make other women jealous whilst fulfilling my unmet womanly needs. Yes, I have womanly needs.

The bubbles still had another twenty minutes to go and at the rate I was going with this wine, I wondered if I might polish off the whole box tonight. I caught myself running the tip of my finger over the opening of the plastic soda bottle, around and around, then up and down the contour of the bottle's side. "I'm out of batteries," I remembered, looking down at the water's choppy surface, "but oh, what I wouldn't give for a submarine to come around these bubbly waters right about now."

Ashamed, I hoped that none of my neighbors were watching me.

"Otherwise," I thought, "the boy has a good-looking face, a sexy body, and if I was to go 'all in' and make myself a fully-fledged Cougar with this boy, how am I supposed to answer the question -- how did the two of you meet?"

What would people say? It's true that single women keep other women single., given our chilly nature. They laughed at him; they can laugh at him again. It would serve him right if I jerked him off in front of a hundred women. I wouldn't stop 'working it' until the boy ejaculated, no matter how long it took me, or who was watching.

"So you like being naked in front of so many women? How about if I started in on a hand job - one that is probably long overdue - with all these women watching? Would you have any shame? Would you push my hands away or would you be unable to resist the pleasure mounting in that little wiener of yours? We both know the answer to that. Brenda, Caroline, Mylene and Angela -- all the ladies in fact, would laugh and laugh at you."

Public shows like this should be put on all the time -- naked boys jerked to the point of forced ejaculation in front of so many cold, jeering women.

But with the final swig of wine came a new perspective, and I began to consider what Stubby wanted from this relationship. Sure, we just met, but inasmuch as this could become a lasting relationship I should probably start thinking of Stubby in those terms.

And now the plastic bottle was empty.

Obviously, Stubby wanted a hand job -- because EVERY boy wants a hand job, and hand jobs are so easy for a woman to master. I know a thing or two about hand jobs, and the secret to mastering them is that there can't be any shame associated with them, the woman has to enjoy giving them, and she should perform them regularly - regardless of the boy, or more commonly, boys.

In my twenties I handed out hand jobs to cute boys like they were candy. They hook in a boy, and no matter when -- and sometimes no matter where, boys always welcome a hand job. "I have something I want to give you" is the only explanation a boy is ever offered.

'It's the journey, not the destination' is what we woman tell each other. For boys, it's all about reaching the destination -- but ladies, keep their journey a bit unpredictable -- and any woman who carries lubricant and extra hand tissue in her purse will always have a boyfriend.

Yes, I know a thing or two about hand jobs.

Moreover, a second glass of wine nearly plays havoc on my libido as well as does soaking in hot water in the arid desert climate, and funny how I got older but now I am contemplating giving a hand job to a boy the same age as I did at first, this time in a public setting, and I have yet to learn his name.

I always liked giving hand jobs; I admit it. The feeling of power is intoxicating -- completely controlling a boy's sexual climax and release. "Oooh, look how big you're getting." For first timers there's the psychological game of getting into their heads -- building a scenario to feed their imaginations. Not that boys need a scenario; they need a hand job, then another, and then another, and I was overdue in giving these.

Regardless, I had a strategy in mind for Stubby.

Mid-morning on Tuesday I arrived at the parking lot adjacent to the trailhead, finding just one other vehicle parked there. Making the hike to the hot spring, and finally stepping through the coolest pool I detected a noise emanating from the direction of the warmest pool. Then I heard, "Eileen, is that you?"

"Good morning, sweetie," I said, toward the warmest pool. As I rounded the corner of the upper cavern and entered it, Stubby was standing up, the water only at mid-thigh. "It's so good to see you, sweetie. Give me a minute in the changing area, won't you?"

Plopping myself beside him and fully aware that, when wet, my white swimwear would become a bit translucent, I lifted his arm and put it around me, turning my body toward his.

I was about to make-out with a naked boy, in a public place where at any moment someone could walk in on us. "The water is so hot," I exclaimed wildly, before proceeding to kiss him several times on the lips. Tender kisses -- the kind that leaves a boy wanting more. Interlacing my fingers with his, I isolated his fingers - and one by one, slid my fingertips up and down his long fingers.

It was all so romantic, and equally erotic. Why shouldn't nature be erotic, when eroticism is a byproduct of sex, which itself is natural?

In meeting Stubby 'in nature' I felt as though I had stumbled into an Eveless paradise, and of course, with a desire to try to tame it, or him rather, as the boy personifies nature. Society as well has a symbiotic relationship with nature, being both a derivative and simultaneously at cross purposes - an economy of contradictory forces, a battle, that keep each other in check.

My hands worked their way to Stubby's hips, then to his thighs, and back to his chest. I was an octopus, but carefully avoided touching his penis. I repeatedly squeezed his ass and expected that he would grab mine in return. But other than Stubby's breathing rate increasing, he otherwise remained unmoved -- the boy was completely submissive to me.

It was the perfect setting, the perfect moment, the perfect everything. I could do anything I wanted with this boy's naked body - tame the wild animal. My challenge was to grow his penis larger than it had ever been, then guide it in, meeting those womanly needs. Best to add a little unpredictability to this journey.

And if he likes to play the part of the submissive, we can go there. Time to keep my nature boy in check.

I grabbed him by the wrists. "You have the perfect body," I beckoned, looking him straight in the eyes. I gave the boy an icy stare. Between my words I kissed him randomly across his face. "I could make love to you all day, sweetie," I whispered. "I only wish that the ladies in my hiking club were here to watch you." I then recounted the names of the ladies, one by one, between kisses. "Imagine fifty women watching you, and all the things they'd like to do to you."

This boy possessed the perfect sexy body, and I was all over it -- other than for his penis. Occasionally my forearm glanced over it, or maybe the next time it was my elbow. Better to tease him by ignoring the body part that boys so desperately want stimulated, and only touching it by 'accident.' He would get his hand job soon enough. Let's run a detour or two before we drive on to that beloved destination.

"You would be helpless with so many women watching you, and they would all want your penis. You're going to make it big for me, aren't you?" I ran my hands up and down his torso, then back over his hips.

"Baby, I want to give you something," I finally said -- as I forcibly grasped his penis. Under my initial squeeze - and it was sharp - the boy began to stiffen up, and I was still hoping to guide it in. But after several minutes of steady stroking, it wasn't much larger than when I started. Slowing my pace I teased, "I'm in no hurry -- and apparently, neither are you."

Then another harsh squeeze.

We went back and forth, faster then slower, until I sensed that he was getting close, at which point I stopped entirely and then proceeded to kiss him again. Sweet pecks on the lips. This time he kissed back. "Every woman will be watching you."

The hot water continued working its magic on my body, and one by one, I recounted the names of the ladies in the hiking club again, between another barrage of kisses. "Imagine all the things these ladies would like to do to you - every last one of them: Brenda, Angela, Mylene, Patricia, Caroline...especially Caroline." I reinitiated a faster pace of stroking until I felt that he was getting close again, but not getting any larger.

"You're helpless, naked boy. All the women are watching you, and you're unable to resist." I continued the stroking - and the kissing.

It was evident that Stubby was doomed to go through life with a tiny penis and I would never get my penetrative vaginal sex from this boy. Regardless, there should never be any shame associated with hand jobs, and as I felt that he was about to let go, I finished him off.

Then suddenly, Stubby's tender kisses turned into passionate French kissing -- the boy's tongue extended down my throat in a relentless quest to go as deep as possible. I could hardly breathe. The boy was climaxing, and positively insatiable.

It was a long, muscular tongue, and at this point I realized that it wasn't necessary for Stubby to have a large penis in order for me to get the consistent penetrative vaginal sex I wanted, and to meet those womanly needs.