I got daring and pulled my pants down to my ankles. The summer breeze blew through the open truck windows, across my genitalia. The breeze mixed with the scent of my pre-cum smelled so sweet. I looked at Paula’s sexy bare feet, up those pretty legs, across that tummy, past those small but firm and pert breasts to that pretty face, relaxing as if asleep. This masturbation felt so good and I did not want it to stop.
Grover and the Hardware Store Remind Me of My Muse
BY IN LOVE WITH KATE MOSS
It has been a while since I’ve written a masturbation story. I have many I could write; nearly all of them based on actual events and people. The other day I could not make up my mind which direction I wanted to go with a new contribution.
Should I write about a voyeuristic adventure? Should I write about being caught or being watched? Should I write about experiences with other male masturbators? Should I write about a particular muse?
I was doing some work in my front yard this week when my neighbor, Grover, came by. I don’t know for sure if Grover is a masturbator in the sense you and I are. But he is one of my few “civilian” friends who knows I write these columns and am heavily into the masturbation scene. Grover and I often sit and have frank discussions over a beer, and I’ve told him some of my secrets and he’s told me his.
“I need to turn-in another story,” I told him while leaning on a shovel. “I have so many I don’t know where to start.”
Our talk drifted to other things, like what we were doing this day and the fact we both needed to go to the hardware store.
I drove us to one of those big-box hardware places a couple of towns over. Grover and I wandered around looking for what we needed and met-up near the front of the store.
“I need to go down to Millwork and order a door,” I told him.
We walked the aisle in the front of the store near the cash registers. As we approached the paint department, I saw her: Paula. Grover noticed me wave and smile, and her smile and wave back.
“A potential subject for your next story?” he asked with a sly smile.
“Are you reading my mind?”
Paula is in her mid-50’s, a few months older than me. I’ve been acquainted with her for 30 or more years, although these days I only occasionally run into her. In our 20’s we were part of the same loose circle of friends that went to bars and parties together. I’ve never gotten to know her real well, but I’ve always had a crush on her and it’s been largely a masturbation crush.
Paula has always worn her hair short. Kind of a light-brown or dark-blonde (although she’s colored darker more recently). She’s slender, taller than average (5’7” – 5’8”) and has these big, beautiful light-blue eyes. Her pretty smile really lights-up those eyes, and I love staring into them when we speak.
Other than those eyes, I have always loved her slender, sexy legs and beautiful feet, and her nice, shapely ass.
Paula used to teach exercise classes. When we were in our 20’s, she used to come around for whatever reason to where I worked. She would often show up after class in her workout clothes, drenched in sweat. Her leotard would be see-through at that point, revealing her pert nipples and all her curves packed into her sexy body. She always had some excuse to stop by and she always flirted with me. I flirted back but never made an attempt to ask her out.
Perhaps part of the reason I never asked Paula out is that she became such a good masturbation muse. I was so sexually satisfied by wanking over her beautiful face and frame, that I never felt the urge to take the next step.
Years went by, we married other people, and I didn’t see Paula very much over the years. An occasional hello in the post office or grocery store, and that’s about it. Cheryl and I go to a swimming pool Paula belongs to, and we’ve seen her there a few times and we’ve chatted in the pool. Seeing her in her MILF bathing suit always give me some good masturbation inspiration.
Seeing her in the hardware store, however, reminds me of one significant masturbation incident nearly 30 years ago.
It was an overcast day back in late spring or early summer of 1985 or 1986, and I needed to go into town to visit a business at the end of the street where Paula’s parents lived. I think she may have been living there at the time, I really don’t remember. What I do remember is that every time I drove by that house, I would look for Paula and sometimes I would see her.
I turned left off the main road onto a side street. My destination was at the end, and Paula’s parents’ house was about half-way down. As I approached, I glanced over to the right hoping to see Paula. Gray skies of the morning had now cleared into a beautiful, late-summer day. My heart skipped a beat as I saw someone or something laying in the yard a few feet from the house. It was Paula, lying on her back on a beach towel. She had on a skimpy green bikini. Very skimpy.
I struggled not to swerve off the road. My heart raced. The masturbator in me wanted to stop right there, pull out my cock and enjoy the beauty of my muse.
First, I needed to take care of whatever business I had at the end of the street. I quickly drove there, got out and practically ran inside. All I could think of was “I’ve got to get back there and look at her!” My cock stirred in my pants. I finished my business and excitedly headed back up the street.
I slowed as I neared the house. Paula was still there on the beach towel, sunning herself on this beautiful day. My cock was out of my pants at this point, and I drove by slowly as I greedily pleasured myself to this beautiful vision.
The house was on a corner, and I crossed over to the next block and pulled over. I could easily look over my left shoulder and see her. I adjusted the side view mirror so I had a good view of her laying there. This way I could also more easily see if anyone else was approaching. There was an empty yard to my right and the street was quiet, so I had a good opportunity to masturbate uninterrupted.
There was this real sense of adventurous deviance in that I was on a public street and someone could easily walk up and catch me masturbating to Paula. I’m not into exposing myself to people who don’t want to see, and I was in my truck and not in the open. Still it was exciting to be this close to the edge. Even if someone did not directly walk up and catch me with my cock in my hand, they could look out their window and figure out what was going on. This was a thrill. My cock was so hard and felt so good.
I got daring and pulled my pants down to my ankles. The summer breeze blew through the open truck windows, across my genitalia. The breeze mixed with the scent of my pre-cum smelled so sweet. I looked at Paula’s sexy bare feet, up those pretty legs, across that tummy, past those small but firm and pert breasts to that pretty face, relaxing as if asleep. This masturbation felt so good and I did not want it to stop.
Suddenly, Paul awakened and jumped to her feet. She gave a glance in my direction, but I’m not sure she was really looking at me or just looking around. I continued to stare back, pumping my bare cock even harder. She turned around and headed to the stairs that led to the back door. I had a precious few seconds of seeing her beautiful ass in that bikini as she sashayed. As she turned and bounded up those short steps, I started to spray sperm. Orgasm started to sweep over me as Paula’s eyes locked onto mine as she opened the door, then disappeared inside.
“Wow, that felt good,” I thought as the orgasm subsided and I regained awareness of where I was. I looked around to see if I was still alone, and saw no one on the street or peering out a window. In my mind was Paula’s face, looking at me as she approached the door. Had she become aware that I was watching her? Had she realized there was a masturbator jacking himself as she sunbathed? It seemed at that moment she HAD realized she was being watched, and might have been spooked. She did look right at me.
Later I figured that although she probably did notice my pickup truck parked on the next block, she probably didn’t realize it was me or realize what I was doing. It might have freaked her out to have been watched but hey, she’s the one who laid-out in the open in a bikini! Someone was bound to notice and stare.
Paula has never said anything to me about that day. If she did think it was me, she’s kept it to herself. Perhaps she never noticed she was being watch in the first place. Either way this is a hot masturbatorial memory for me even today. I still occasionally masturbate thinking about this incident, thinking about Paula in that bikini. It is always good.
And I still slow down and think of Paula whenever I drive by that house!
Maybe I should go to the hardware store with Grover more often!