Masturbating For Sandra Ch 01

Most of my stories are extracts from a journal I started keeping some years back, for my own erotic entertainment. I thought I was the only person who did this, until I discovered Literotica and hundreds of other like-minded people. The only embellishments are to make the story more interesting to read.

One other fact is that I am always naked when at home. Lesley insists upon it and I love it. I love the feeling of the air moving against my skin. I love being looked at when I am naked, particularly by women who have their clothes on. Being naked when everyone else is dressed leaves me vulnerable and strangely powerful at the same time. When we have visitors, it is up to Lesley if I get dressed. Originally, I had to be clothed every time someone came over, but over time, that rule has been relaxed. We do not have a full-blown BDSM lifestyle, but I have to be available for bondage, whipping, masturbation, or sex at her demand. I can put in a request for any of the above, but it is within her gift.

* * * * *

Sandra and I have always had a curiously sexual relationship. Not that any physical contact has ever taken place, but sex is never far off the agenda when we converse. My partner is her husband's sister, so I guess that makes her my sister-in-law; indeed, I met Lesley at one of Sandra's parties. This is vaguely irrelevant, although it does explain the relationship, e.g., outrageous flirting and general horsing around with somebody I see frequently, although no contact

One Sunday afternoon, I had returned home from playing golf, showered and as usual, was intending to spend the rest of the day naked. I thought this would be interrupted when Sandra rang to ask if it was convenient to bring something or other over.

"We're here for the duration," I said, "come over whenever you want"

"I'll come straightaway", she said. I moved into flirt mode.

"I'm naked at the moment, should I get dressed or remain naked?"

She thought for a bit. "Mmm, naked I think" Excellent.

I told Lesley that Sandra was on her way over, and tried to make it clear that I did not intend to getting dressed by continuing my mundane tasks naked, trying to gauge the reaction. I remained nude until I saw Sandra pull up outside the house and intended to remain naked. Up until then I was not going to get dressed unless specifically instructed to by Lesley, but my courage failed me, so I gave in and put on a skin-tight pair of shorts and nothing else. Sandra came in and we offered her a cup of tea. While Lesley went in to the kitchen to make it, Sandra and I stood talking in the dining room.

Eventually she said, "I thought you were going to be naked"

I said nothing, but removed my shorts and put them on the dining room table and stood in front of her naked. I then walked past Sandra, and into the lounge to watch the rest of the football. Lesley and Sandra came sat in the lounge with the tea and I made no move to get dressed. That lovely feeling of being naked in the company of clothed women. Sandra made no comment at all about my nudity, but took the opportunity to casually look me over and openly gazed at my cock. I am sure her gaze would have resulted in an erection, but after only a few moments, Lesley insisted that I put my shorts back on. I was disappointed, but I complied. I thought so at the time and I am certain of it now, Sandra would have been quite happy if I had remained naked.

There is a running battle in our house about messages on the answer machine. I believe that you listen to them then delete them, writing down the important bits. Lesley keeps the messages on there as some sort of reminder. One Saturday, in a fit of pique, I deleted all of the messages on the machine, including one from Sandra. As this one was being deleted, Lesley called down the stairs,

"Don't delete the message from Sandra, I don't have a note of the telephone number she left." Too late!

"It's alright, I've written it down" I called.

I immediately rang Sandra, explained the situation, and asked for the number again.

"What's it worth?" she asked.

"If you give me the number, I'll come and do your housework naked, for an hour"

She said, "I'll have some of that" and gave me the number. "Tomorrow morning at ten", she said and hung up.

I arrived promptly the following day. She was in the front garden when I arrived.

"Go in the lounge and take your clothes off, then." She said.

She came in as I was stripping off, and sat on the sofa. Soon I was stood naked in front of her and asked her what she wanted me to do. While she was thinking, her eyes dropped from my face for a second or two and focussed on my cock. I love that moment. Subsequent experience has taught me that, when faced unexpectedly with a naked male, a woman will try and remain cool and maintain eye contact. But as long as you stay calm, curiosity gets the better of them, and their eyes drop to your groin, to assess the equipment. I savoured that moment now. If the eyes stay there long enough, I loose control (although I never have much control) over my cock and it swells to an erection. It was beginning to twitch under Sandra's steady gaze when she broke away and gave me my instructions.

I think a game goes on here. Each person pushing the other a bit further, seeing who will back down first. Sandra could have said no to the naked housework. I could fail to arrive. She could insist on me remaining dressed. I could have not carried out the promise. Neither of us backed down, and I believe we both thoroughly enjoyed the experience. I don't know how turned on Sandra got, I didn't ask. Not because I am selfish, because it would have spoiled the game.

"Make me a cup of tea, and vacuum the lounge, dining room and clean the conservatory. I want you to spend at least thirty minutes making sure the conservatory is clean."

The reason for this last instruction is that the conservatory is fully glazed open to view from both neighbours and the piece of open ground to the rear of her garden – a prime route for the many dog walkers on the estate. Soon Sandra was sat in one of those high backed wicker chairs in the conservatory, watching me sweep the timber floor. It only took a little imagination to consider her as the Lady and me as her naked serf. Again, vulnerable, willing to abrogate the decisions. She began passing comments on activity outside the conservatory.

"Oh look, there's my neighbour hanging out her washing. Don't turn round! What would she make of me sitting here like Lady Muck while a naked man was doing the housework? Maybe you'll have to do her house too, to keep her quiet" If only!

"Here come some women walking their dogs. I think you had better clean that window until they have gone past". So I stood naked at a full height window next to Sandra, wiping it down, waiting to be told it was clean enough, both of us looking out waiting for their reactions. I'd given up responsibility for my actions to Sandra and now had to reap the consequences. I wanted to be seen naked and the thought of being "forced" to do it just added to the thrill.

The first woman came from the left, casually looking over the houses. Eventually her eyes fell on Sandra and me and, once she had registered what was going on, she equally casually looked away until she was well past. Sandra giggled a little bit as we waited for the others to come into range. The second came from the right, watching her dog. When she was level with me she glanced over, did a double take, and hurried on looking down. Again Sandra laughed. The third one followed her from the right. She looked over, saw us, and a huge smile lit up her face. The woman stared at me for some minutes as she slowly strolled past

"She seems to be enjoying the view. Don't move now; let her get a good look at you. Why don't you give her a wave?" I lifted my hand and waggled it at the woman. She waved back! There was no doubt, she was watching me and she continued to watch me until she had to turn away or risk serious injury to her neck. This was too much for my poor cock to stand, and it began to swell. Given, the slightest encouragement I would have dropped to my knees and masturbated.

But there is always housework to be done. Sandra stopped giggling long enough to give me fresh instructions.

"The floor needs cleaning. Get some hot water and a cloth, get on your knees, and give the floor a good scrub. Keep your knees apart."

Fifteen minutes on the floor with my arse in the air, exposing cock, balls, and anus to Sandra's stare. She noticed that as I was wiping the floor, my cock was swinging from side to side in a counter motion. She laughed again.

"I didn't know men could wag their cocks like a tail. I like that. Come on then doggy, wag your tail a bit more for me, let me know you're happy."

So while she sat there laughing and reprimanding me at the slightest reduction in pace, I had to exaggerate the waggle my arse as I wiped the floor so that my cock waved from side to side, like a dog wagging its tail.

I was beginning to learn that it is possible to be humiliated and exhilarated at the same time. Despite my mental efforts, my cock began to harden, meaning I had to wag faster to satisfy Sandra, which caused it to harden more. I tried all sorts of mental exercises to no avail. Minutes later, my rock hard cock was sticking out below my stomach, dribbling onto the recently cleaned floor.

"OK, come and stand next to me while I assess the work". I got up and stood to the side of her chair facing her, my rigid cock about head level. The act of standing there naked and erect made me feel yet more vulnerable, humiliated, and exhilarated. Sandra laughing at me built up the humiliation, the fact that she was not objecting to my nudity and taken part in the action added to the exhilaration. She turned away from me with a mockingly thoughtful expression and did a slow sweep of the conservatory until her eyes came to rest on my erection, inches in front of her nose. She stared at it for a moment, then looked up at me, and said "Very nice".

For that instant, I worshipped that woman. All she would need for my undying devotion would be to allow me to stand naked and erect in front of her, while she carried out a close inspection of my penis, followed by, "Very nice".

But again the spell was broken. "Actually, while you're here, you could help me by loading a few concrete slabs into the truck." As this was outside the front of the house, I had to get dressed and spend a few minutes loading up. By now, it was about eleven, and time to go.

"What are you doing the rest of the day?" she asked.

"Well in the immediate future, I'm going to get home as fast as possible, rip my clothes off and masturbate while reliving the last sixty minutes."

"Oh, well enjoy yourself, won't you" she said, as if I had just announced that I was off for a weekend away.

I got home as soon as I could, taking my clothes off as I entered the house, and fell onto my knees in front of the full-length mirror, my favourite wanking position. Within seconds, I was rock hard and heading towards what would probably have been the world's fastest wank. I was imagining Sandra and the three dog-walkers standing in front of me watching, especially the third one. I used the mirror to visualise what they would see if I was kneeling in front of them wanking. I imagined them with my favourite expressions, in particular Sandra's casual examination of my erect cock. "Very nice".

Just as I was about to reach a satisfying orgasm, the phone rang. I could have ignored it, but Lesley was out and maybe trying to reach me. I stood up and walked into the study, still with one hand on my throbbing member, I picked up the phone and said a somewhat strangled "Yes?" into the receiver.

"Finished yet?" It was Sandra.

"Nearly", was about all I could muster.

"You go ahead then, I'll wait" Two or three strokes later and the first spasm shot cum from my cock and across the floor, accompanied by a throaty grunt into the mouthpiece. The next two spasms were equally as powerful and equally vocal. I began to regain control of my voice box by the fourth and fifth spasms, but not my twitching cock. The seventh and eighth I managed in relative silence (i.e., breathing hoarsely) as the spunk dribbled out my cock and down my legs, and finished off by sinking onto my knees and burbling "Oh God!" into the phone.

"Did you enjoy that?"

"You mean you couldn't tell?"

A giggle.

"The reason I rang..." We had a thirty second conversation about some sort of message. She rang off with "Don't forget to clean up the mess, houseboy."