I enjoy so much the new “This Made Me Squirt” section Richard has included here on Onania.org. He has such a gift for picking out just the perfect woman for our masturbatory attention. Even just casually clicking through the day’s new entries, I’m caught up by them. I have yet to go to this section and then be able to leave without spilling a load. They are wonderful muses!
This goddess, haunts me the most so far. I, too, have had to jack to her several times since Sunday. Had to! The thoughts that flood my mind about her in particular keep causing me to masturbate helplessly while staring at her.
If she was in front of me in real life how could such a powerful lady be able to sit still and just hold that wonderful pose for me? … even for the few minutes it would take for me to cum, could she ignore her pity for me – a desperate masturbator – on his knees in front of her? Richard’s caption speaks the truth about her “scorn for … ruined manhood and a certain maternal pity.” The scorn is there. But it is less clear to me because when I stare into her eyes her maternal pity is overwhelming. There is no hiding that she is fully aware that her incredible pussy has such a hold on all of us masturbators. This is a no-nonsense goddess mother who knows us and knows why our hands are on our cocks. It makes her sad, I think, but she gives us this gift openly – so openly. She knows we need her. “Look at it!” she seems to say. “I know you can’t help it, you have to masturbate to it.” She knows we desperately dream of fucking her, but instead can only fuck frantically into our hand-pussies. And she likes the attention, anyway.
Perhaps, … oh perhaps … if my own mother had not shown me that same expression so many times as she exposed herself to my young eyes, I wouldn’t be so mesmerized. I might be able to turn away and not jack off so desperately. But I know this lady, this sad look, and how soft her flesh could be. I know how she watches with “scorn … and maternal pity” as I squirt my cum out towards her sweet thighs. I know how she will stand up and turn away with that maternal pity when I am done, yet with a little part of her satisfied with ruining my manhood.
I even know the smell she will leave behind: her perfume, mixed with the musky scent of her beautiful cunt. What drives me to stroke again and again are the sounds I know that follow: the muffled sounds from the next room of her moans as some luckier male – (my dad?) – fills her pussy with his penis, even as I hold mine in my hand and jerk in rhythm to her cries of satisfaction.
Thanks for this one, Richard. Perfect.