I am far from unique in the world, but I have recognized the deep-seated aspects of myself and can relate to them daily, and thus, find a pleasure in sharing these incidents and people with the fantasy-rich audience of Avid Reader, who is abundantly populating the erotica boards. There are always going to be Origination Stories behind all epic sagas, and many who have attached themselves to Sabrina in my Ruthless Tease series, or the awakening of her ability to Tease and torment the men in her life, might find interest to learn of the series of events that shaped my earliest experiences with the genre, that of unrestrained, overwhelming cockteasing, at the hands (and body) of a knowing, and mercilessly bratty woman, knowing she is doing it and loving the power and impact it has over whomever she targets.
My own foray into the world of exhibitionism, voyeurism and ultimately the role of witness to and victim of direct, purposeful sexually charged cock stimulation without touch, and resultant embarrassing and sometimes public impact of that effort...began LONG ago. Prior to the age of cellphones, internet and even silicone enhanced curves...my youth was in the ever-free 80's, and it was virtually impossible to see the likes of Playboy Playmates in your average world. It just didn't exist, and there was no venue for it, especially as a young teenage boy to have ANY access to the kind of hyper-sexually intense emotions that would stem from being near provocative, goddess-formed women. I couldn't purchase a Playboy magazine, having only turned 18 a week prior, and carrying the genetic makeup of a much younger teen despite my legal age, or for that matter the more risqué and libido inciting Hustler or Penthouse or High Society or even OUI, if you, Avid Reader, remember some of those names. The later devotion I would attribute to the onset of 'niche' magazines in my life such as GENT, Score or Juggs...would stem from this first event I will relate—forever fixating me on the power of deep, luscious curves and the women who know they inspire erections—be they privately intimate and furious ones...or public and embarrassing and vulnerable events.
I love the very real art of teasing, no question...always have...going all the way back to my FIRST sexual experiences, and I mean that from the view of like EARLY ages, etc...not knowing a damn thing! Just the lusts and wonderings of a young man, partially in awe of every new experience or view for that matter (consider first deep, downblouse cleavage impact, or first hardened nipple under T-shirt without bra), and partially in awe equally with the inevitable impact these visions would cause his body.
Most of these categories of boys would have furtive rubs and squeezes with an equally nubile young hussy in a backseat; others would clench their teeth and grimace to the unexpected boiling of lust over a close slow dance; and still others would be long-acquainted friends with their young cocks by manually stimulating them to excess in bathrooms and bedrooms across America. But my first ever orgasm was in public! Ughh, right? Let me "paint" this picture, Avid Reader, and I ask only that you consider my inexperience and impressionability, and give my young version of me, some slack for the helpless manner I enter the world of sexual stimulation and gratification.
I, as I soon learned, would not be in charge of my own body, that too frighteningly, was all in the hands of a goddess of a late twenty-something young Mom, lounging on a sun chair somewhere in Middle California, circa 1981, on a sweltering day of clear skies, raucous pool antics, and an unassuming young boy/forming man about to cross a threshold not only of his psyche, but absolutely his body, would never forget or be able to handle.
I was at a public pool in my neighborhood, and sweating mundane things like passing my Driver's Test, and whether to ask a girl to prom, etc! But I was out, sunning, swimming with some random friends from the neighborhood, and this woman, a blonde, busty older woman—to me that is at the time-approached, sunhat, long flowing sun drape racily flowing like a neon tail in the wind behind her as she walked, catwalk style with her feet staying in a line only she knew was there, and passed by me, her red floppy bag slung over her shoulder, and after surveying the lay of the land, chose a chaise recliner chair only two away from me to my right.
I started every single thing in life...late. I didn't even learn how to drive a stick shift until a week before my 18th birthday, making my foray into owning a car something to look forward to still. I hadn't had a first kiss, unless you call my hilariously embarrassing attempt to kiss Beth Armstrong, my babysitter one helpless evening after being watched, which didn't even land on skin! No, I managed to delay anything that involved nerves or getting up the courage to beat them.
So too was my woeful ascent to manhood. I knew what I wanted, I seemed to have telltale pajama dampness very frequently, but I had NEVER experienced a conscious, on purpose orgasm, either solo or with a partner. At least not until this fateful day in the life of Everyday Virgin-Me.
I had no clue that my life, and every relationship from then on, and every fantasy for the next ten years, would either be directly related to this woman, or in some portion to the impact she was about to have on my pliable mind and body. She had an impossibly sexy body, and this girl next door look, but she was a vision. Two other women, lovely to be sure, but nothing compared to the other-worldly level of sexual appeal that she had, would join her minutes later, thankfully sitting on the lounges past her leaving space between us.
I could catch small sections of conversation, but honestly, I hadn't yet fully been captured. I knew she was curvy to some extent, and lovely, but I wasn't transfixed, having only seen the entrance...a covered up one at that. I heard her mention something about how satisfying being a mother is, and other tidbits, but she was a MOM. It made her a whole other level of unattainable in my fledgling mind, and an older woman that I barely even registered at that moment. I should have run screaming for help. Let me share more Avid Reader, let your mind travel back to your beginnings and tell me if you would behave better in my place.
She was older, yes, but at that age, that may have been, oh, 28 or 30 I don't know. Easily older than me and so freaking far outside even my ability to dream of...until then! After those rather mundane first fifteen or so minutes of chatting and pulling out sunning supplies and glasses and water, she began what was my irreversible descent into depravity. She stood, her back to me as she was standing next to her chaise, and I glanced over. She was lifting her long strawberry hinted blonde hair out from under the drape, and leaning her head back, and every so slowly began to turn to her right, so now I have a profile. Jeezus.
