Onania Masturbator Forum: Adventures in Masturbating: Aparment Dwelling

In the Onania Masturbator Forum, a Masturbator Wrote:

Ah, the rush, the thrill of stroking my hard cock out in the open, under the sky, and in the middle of the city! I wandered around the rooftop, jacking my throbbing dick and looking around. It was all too exciting and after only a few minutes I gave in to the urge and blasted my hot spunk onto the roof in a knee-buckling orgasm. It turned out once was not enough. I had barely collected my wits from that blinding climax when I felt myself getting hard again. My libido had been spun into overdrive by my rooftop wank and was ready for more. Again I took my tool in hand and some time later I spent another load on the roof.

 


Adventures in Masturbating: Aparment Dwelling

by JOMaster » Fri Jul 06, 2018 11:56 am

I should note that these escapades occurred more than a few years ago, long before the internet and camera phones, the bane of the public masturbator….

Some years back, I lived in a fairly large apartment building, a three-story job built around a central plaza with a swimming pool and other amenities. My place–a second-floor one-bedroom on a corner–had a fairly good view of the pool area. Many afternoons some of the female residents would lay out in bikinis by the pool area. As I was an avid voyeur and chronic masturbator, it wasn’t long before I was at the window, nude and peering at the oiled bodies below. Some of them were quite stunning–aspiring actresses one might assume. 

It took some effort to get the curtains just right so I could see without being seen, but once I had that worked out I spent many a happy time, jacking away to the cuties in their tiny swimsuits. That first time I barely remembered to catch my semen in my other hand as I came, and thereafter kept a beer glass handy to catch my load. Sometimes I would go down to the pool afterward to chat with the women, making small talk while I wondered how they’d react if they knew I’d been masturbating to them moments before. I cast my gaze around the complex at all the windows overlooking the pool and mused that mine might not be the only pair of eyes looking down and the only cock in an oiled fist.

The complex boasted a fitness room and sauna, and I made the latter another masturbation venue. My work hours were irregular to the extreme, so it was not unusual to be arriving home at three or four am, when the sauna would almost certainly be deserted. It was a simple matter to crank the heat up, establish that it was just me in there, then flip off my towel and get to jacking. No one ever interrupted me, though once I went down with masturbatory intent only to walk in on a nude couple. The woman was giving the man a blowjob–For a brief moment, I had a perfect view of her mouth gulping his cock before she recoiled in surprise. I mumbled an apology and retreated to my apartment to masturbate in my accustomed surroundings.

My apartment was the at the end of the building, next to a stairwell leading to the underground parking. It also offered access to the roof, which became another place in the complex where I could have an adventure in Onanism.

First I had to scout the terrain. One day I went to the roof to look around. My masturbation mission would be night work, but I wanted to see it in daylight first. The roof was typical for such buildings–flat asphalt cluttered with air conditioning and other machinery. There were several good spots where I could jack off in relative safety, and best of all only one stairwell with roof access. Only one door to watch. I had the following day off, so I named midnight that night as Zero Hour.

I edged to porn videos (VHS, that’s how long ago this was!) off and on into the evening, to keep my excitement level up. Clad in standard Public Masturbator kit–sandals and loose-fitting shorts and T-shirt, so one can go from dressed to nude and back quickly–I ascended the stairs to the roof at midnight. It was quite dark, as the street lamps were below the roof. I picked my way carefully along, checking to be sure I was truly alone. Once my eyes had adjusted and I was sure of my privacy, I was nude in an instant and fully hard a moment later.

Ah, the rush, the thrill of stroking my hard cock out in the open, under the sky, and in the middle of the city! I wandered around the rooftop, jacking my throbbing dick and looking around. It was all too exciting and after only a few minutes I gave in to the urge and blasted my hot spunk onto the roof in a knee-buckling orgasm. It turned out once was not enough. I had barely collected my wits from that blinding climax when I felt myself getting hard again. My libido had been spun into overdrive by my rooftop wank and was ready for more. Again I took my tool in hand and some time later I spent another load on the roof.

I returned to the roof a few more times in the following months; I once had to retreat to the stairwell as a police helicopter passed through the area. I had wandered too far from my clothes and I found myself on the stairs completely nude. Though the helicopter had passed by, I stayed in the stairwell and finished myself off on the steps.

At the bottom of that same stairwell was the laundry room—just a windowless room with a handful of coin-operated washers and dryers. For some reason, I decided that that the laundry room was the place for my next adventure in masturbating. 

The room was available to the tenants 24/7, so as with the roof, I decided on a late night excursion to minimize the chance of accidental discovery. I chickened out on Tuesday night, but Wednesday night (Thursday morning, really), dressed again in only hiking shorts, T-shirt and a pair of Vans, I descended the stairs to do the deed. I was nervous as I slipped into the laundry room—unoccupied—but the idea of what I was about to do had me hard as a rock. When I was younger, I got a big thrill out of masturbating in places where I might be spotted. Even so, I was still a little surprised at how the mere intent to jack off in public had my cock throbbing in expectation. 

I had brought a small bottle of lube in my pocket; I took it out and set it on one of the dryers, then loosened my shorts and let them drop to my feet. Then the shirt and the shoes, and in less time than it takes to tell it, I was standing totally nude in the laundry room, sporting a hard-on that would easily hold up a bath towel. With an ear listening for approaching footsteps, I lubed myself and started to stroke. The pleasure of my hand sliding up and down my rigid shaft was doubled and doubled again by the crazy fact: I was masturbating in a public place! I hopped up on one of the washers and reclined on the cool steel, still stroking. 

I speeded up and, as I got close to the edge all veteran masturbators know so well, I backed down. I poured on more lube to get a sloppy wet sound as my hand flew up and down—that squishy slap of a hard cock getting expertly pounded. I jumped back down to the floor and grasped my tool with both hands; knees slightly bent, I rolled my hips around in a circular motion, pushing my cock through my clenched fists, in and out, in and out, in and out…was it ten minutes—twenty? I lost track of the time. My excitement grew, my heartbeat throbbing in my ears. I was consumed by the frenzy, nothing mattered but my cock as I masturbated…I jacked off…I pumped my cock… 

I had been on alert for any sign of people approaching, but now, in my frenzy I wanted to be found. I pictured one of my female neighbors barging in with a load of laundry and seeing me there: she gasps and watches in rapt fascination as I piston my greasy rod through my hands. I drove myself over the edge and, with a grunt as if I was lifting a heavy weight, I started to spew. My knees buckled and I sagged bodily against the washers as my cock exploded, jerking and spurting my load of semen. My goo splattered on the dusty concrete floor, leaving ragged, milky puddles. I stood there, slowly milking out the last of my jism from my cock in the afterglow of a really good cum, when I heard the sound of a car entering the garage. A second later, the flare of the vehicle’s headlights entered the room through the door, and I realized that it was parking right next to the stairs; its occupant would be passing the laundry room any second. 

Moments before, in the height of my arousal, I might have welcomed an accidental spectator to my solo sexcapade; post-orgasm, however, was another matter. (Public masturbation is an exciting activity, but it’s also illegal.) The car headlights went out and the motor shut off. There was no way to get up the stairs without being seen. What to do? There was another door in the room, a door I had never seen open—I didn’t even know if it was locked, or what lay behind it. Luckily, the door wasn’t locked and I jumped through to find myself in a storage room which also housed the water heater for the laundry machines. Hiding behind the door, I listened to the footfalls of a pair of high-heeled shoes as they passed the laundry room and climbed the stairs. Once I’d heard the door to the hallway above open and close, I crept back out for my clothes. 

As I picked up my shorts and shirt, I was amazed to feel blood rushing back to my groin. I guess the heart-stopping near-exposure had gotten to me on some subconscious level. I decided that I wasn’t up to another wank in the laundry room, but I did make one final crazy move. Instead of putting on my clothes, I carried them out of the room in my hand, climbing the stairs and going to my apartment nude. 

Once safely inside, I rubbed out another one before I went to sleep. The following day, I was still aroused by the whole experience, and masturbated four times during the day.


 

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