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.
Many months had past since the previous episodes of this short saga, during which time normal relationships were resumed. Sandra and I kept bumping into each other at various family functions and would occasionally speak on the phone, but for some reason my masturbatory efforts on her behalf were never discussed or even referred to. There were highlights of course. At a drinks party for my birthday at a local bar, Sandra came over to the table where I was sat with a beer she had just bought for me. Nothing unusual in that, except that she was wearing a loose vest without a bra, so bending over to deposit the drink exposed her tits. I donât mean a nice bit of cleavage, I mean I could see both breasts entirely and her naval. She might just as well have been topless.
âNice titsâ I said, with meaning.
âOh ta, do you think so? Iâve always considered them a bit smallâ Sandra remained where she was, leaning on the table, her breasts completely exposed less than a foot from my nose, making absolutely no effort to move or cover herself up. As I was sitting alone with my back to a wall, I was the only one who could appreciate the view.
I continued my casual assessment of her breasts. âItâs a bit of a myth, you know, large breasts. Oh sure, there are men out there who are mad for big tits, but I think most of us men go for something slightly more handleable.â
âI thought all men were after women with big knockersâ
âWell, thereâs no doubt that a large breasted woman across a room will draw attention, but I think youâll find most men are a bit more discerning than thatâ. While talking, I casually leaned forward, placing my elbows on the table. Initially I maintained eye contact, but I soon picked up my glass and took the opportunity for an even closer examination of Sandraâs breasts.
âIn what way?â Sandra asked, still remaining in position.
âAvailability, mainlyâ Sandra sniggered and stood up, as we were approached by some of the other revellers.
Actually, thinking about it, that isnât a particularly ânormalâ relationship.
The point is that there was not a linear development in the naked masturbation thing. The naked housework was one thing, which developed into the telephone calls while I was wanking, which in turn led to a specific instructions for me while she listened. As there had been a considerable hiatus, I think we both thought that the other was backing off a bit, which was probably a good thing.
So when Sandra left a message several months later to ask if she could come over and use our Internet connection as hers had gone down, being naked and masturbating for her was not at the forefront of my mind. I came in from work to an empty house and heard the message I rang her back and invited her over when she was ready. I then went to the bedroom to get the suit off and have a shower.
To be honest she took me by surprise. I was just towelling myself off, when there was a knock on the door. Looking out of the window, I saw it was Sandra. I could have got dressed, put on a robe or wrapped the towel around me, but on a whim I decided not to do any of those. As I walked downstairs, my heart was beating rapidly with excitement. I had already resolved what I was going to do, I just didnât know what Sandraâs reaction would be. It turned out to be prefect. I turned the lock and opened the door naked, stood slightly to one side.
âEveningâ I said.
âEveningâ was the reply as Sandra coolly stepped into the house, making no comment at all about my nudity. Being the perfect host, I offered her a drink. She asked for coffee and we wandered into the kitchen to make it. While we were waiting for the kettle to boil, I leant against the unit while Sandra was across the kitchen by the door. As we were talking, that magical moment occurred again. She had spent some time maintaining eye contact and her cool, but eventually her eyes dropped to my cock. Marvellous.
âI havenât disturbed your evening, have I?â