The PeterFiles: A (fictional) clinical study chronicling the activities of Peter, a lifelong habitual masturbator. Copyright 1995-2017 by Onania.Org/asm. Click to Read All Stories in the PeterFiles.
(Editor’s Note: Masturbation is often called “the private vice”, but the compulsive masturbator frequently practices his habit in circumstances that can only invite discovery. The reactions of accidental witnesses may lead either to reinforcement of this dubious behavior or to serious legal complications for the masturbator. In his account below Peter demonstrates this strong connection between exhibitionism/voyeurism and masturbatory addiction. — Dr. Margaret Wilson, Registered Genital Therapist.)
The setting is the sea coast of Northern California. I have gone to a “clothing optional” beach, where nudity is permitted, and men and women are exposing their all to the elements. I am there not from a love of sun and surf, but from a desire to see the oceans of big bouncing breasts displayed to view.
In the spirit of things, I have shed my clothes, and am walking down the beach enjoying the fleshy sights. It seems as if every big-bosomed girl in San Francisco is out showing her endowments today. I notice that several are giving me dirty looks, and one even shoots me the finger and says, “Fuck off, pervert!” I look down and suddenly realize that in response to so many bare breasts, my penis has become quite indecently erect. I think the best thing to do is find some secluded spot to relieve myself without disturbing anyone.
I find a sheltered place among the rocks, where I am hidden but still able to keep an eye on the bosomy sun bathers. I reach for a bottle of suntan lotion in my beach bag, and squirt some onto my stiff penis. I grip the slippery member in my hand, and with a sigh settle into enjoying myself. I am taking my time, but well along the road, when a feminine voice behind me makes me freeze: “Having fun, are you?”
I turn, and there is a gorgeous young woman, grinning at me. She is wearing only underwear, loose-fitting panties and a camisole top, which her voluptuous breasts swell outward. I realize that she must have been there watching all the time, partly hidden behind a large rock. A set of street clothes lying on a beach towel suggests that I interrupted her as she was disrobing. I am speechless with surprise and embarrassment, but my glistening erection in my fingers speaks for me. I try to cover my genitals with my hands, but it must be obvious to anyone what I was doing. I feel a rush of guilt and fear reminiscent of an incident in boyhood, when my mother caught me in the middle of jerking off.
She repeats, “I said, are you having fun?”
I am still nearly paralyzed, standing in front of this busty beauty guiltily holding my organ in my hands. I know it’s futile, but I try to explain, “I needed to take a leak, and I was just…”
She laughs. “Oh sure. I know what kind of a ‘leak’ you were taking. Look, I know what you were doing, I saw you. But don’t panic, I’m not going to scream or anything. I come here all the time, and you’re not the first guy I’ve seen jacking off. Lots of jerk-offs like you come here to watch the girls.” She looks down at my penis, frozen in its erection in spite of my shock. “You’re still pretty stiff, aren’t you? You better finish yourself off now.”
She makes no attempt to turn away or leave. I stammer, “You mean, right here, with you…?”
She grins, “Sure, go ahead, I don’t mind. I sort of get a kick out of watching a guy jerk himself off.” She follows my gaze, which has become centered on the loose-fitting camisole billowing around here enormous bosom. “I bet you want to see my tits, don’t you? That’s what the other jerk-offs usually want.” She quickly undoes the snap in the front, and opens the camisole like spreading wings.
I waste no time now resuming my interrupted activity. She stands there grinning while I stroke feverishly, my eyes glued to her bare breasts drooping heavily down her chest. At last my time comes, and my hips thrust forward involuntarily as my spasming penis erupts. A spurting stream shoots forth, a few drops reaching as far as to splash on her naked foot. Once more I am speechless, but now with exhaustion, and I sink to my knees in the sand, squeezing the last beads of semen from my member.
“Wow! That was really something!” she says, rubbing the drops of my spending with the toes of her other foot. “Say, my name’s Sally. I’ve got to go meet some friends on the beach now, but I’m usually around here a lot. Maybe we’ll run into each other again.” She leaves, her big breasts swinging as she walks away.
* end *