A moment of Arousal

On the train, there is a girl standing in front of me. She has blonde hair, a pretty face with nice eyes, a small nose and soft pink lips. She wears a smart, business-like black coat, a black well-fitted A-line skirt, sheer skin-coloured tights (or stockings…?) and a pair of neatly-polished office shoes, with 4″ heels.

She is standing by the door, and has her hand down at her side, and is holding the thick, round vertical handrail. Her hand is in exactly the same position it would be if she was standing next to a man with a stiff cock and wrapper her fingers around it, without turning to him or looking at him.

Gorgeous.

Proxy

Touch your lips with the tip of your finger. It is my mouth kissing you.

Run your fingers through your hair, sweeping aside from your face, lightly brushing your cheek, the warmth of my palm making your skin flush pink. Rub your shoulder, touch the nape of your neck, making the hairs rise up with cool anticipation. You feel the goosebumps against my fingertips as you run them over your skin. Push your collar aside, and twist the top button so your top falls open, revealing your cleavage, exposing the lace trim of your underwear. Undo the next button, and the next, keep working your fingers down the line of small plastic discs until I have undone every one of the fastenings. Pull the garment apart and push it off your shoulders so I can look at you and take in the sight before me. Take off your boots, your finger tracing a line down your calf as I slide the zips down to your ankles. Kick them off, and massage the balls of your stockinged feet, my fingers twisting and rolling each toe in turn, feeling the day’s strain ooze out of them. Reach around behind your back, and let me unhook the clasp of your bra. Move your fingers up to your soft smooth shoulders, and my fingertip traces the line of the delicate laced strap, before flicking it off. Let the small, flowery cups drop from your breasts, as I discard it in a crumpled heap on the floor. Lick your finger, and trace the line around your hard, deep dark red nipples, my digit leaving a trail of glistening saliva over your areola, sending shivers up and down your spine. Cup your breast in your hand, my warm, soft palm savouring the feel of your soft swell against it. Squeeze and caress it until I can hear you moaning with pleasure as your arousal heightens. Stand up, and hitch up your skirt so I can see you panties, my eyes taking in the taut fabric of your soft white thong stretched over your mound. Touch yourself with your fingertip, lightly sensing the moisture soaking through, drawing my hand back up to my mouth so I can taste you. Slip your fingers into the waistband and let me pull your knickers down over your hips, down your thighs and onto the floor. I kick them away – you will not need them again. Flick open the button at the side of your skirt, and the slip the zip down over your hips, my other hand rubbing your firm behind, squeezing and kneading it. I pull your skirt down and let it drop to the floor, leaving you all but naked, your hold-ups covering your legs and emphasising the pale colour of your soft skin. Sit back down on the chair and open your legs, spreading yourself wide for me. Run my finger along your slick wet lips, slipping between your soft pinkness, flicking your hard little button, making you squirm and writhe as I touch and stroke you. Slip your fingers into your cunt, feeling yourself, letting my hand explore you. Thrust in and out of yourself, faster, harder, wetter, deeper, until your muscles begin to spasm and twitch around your fingers, and you release, warm juices running out onto my palm, ready for me to lap up greedily. I cannot be with you, but I am right there beside you. I cannot touch you, but I can reach you. I cannot fuck you, but I will fuck you.

HNT #1

I’ve been feeling particularly good this week, thanks to somebody special. I’ve also been encouraged to think that – with the aid of some clever lighting, a B&W camera and some judicious cropping – my unfulfilled body can actually look reasonably presentable. I also want to test posting an image via my mobile.

So here you are. My first (and possibly last) HNT.

Mobile Blogging doesn’t suck (so much)

Okay, so my previous post should have been “mobile blogger sucks“.

Feeling very comfortable in my new WordPress home, and no need for a PC at all, it seems.

So, now that’s sorted out…where was I?

Hard

My cock is hard.

It’s been hard a lot over the last few days, and particularly when I think about you, read your words and most of all when I picture you touching yourself for me.

I’m hard at work, having to lower my chair as my cock rubs against the underside of my desk, and carrying notepads, jumpers, coats, anything to cover my erection as I walk across the office. I’m standing to attention as my meetings approach, desperately trying to put you out of my mind and let myself soften before I have to stand and walk to the conference room.

I’m hard when I’m on the train, wondering whether others can see the hard outline in the fabric of my trousers. I’m stiff on the tube, as I stand swaying as the carriage rocks its violent passage through the black tunnel, I wonder if the female commuters I’m standing before are looking at my bulging groin and becoming wet. I’m stiff while I drive my car, sometimes unbuttoning my fly and caressing myself as I speed along, wondering if the door-sills are high enough to hide my exposed cock from drivers I pass.

I’m rigid in the supermarket, stopping to adjust myself and nearly dropping my groceries. I’m oh-so-fucking hard in the shower, enjoying the feel of the water running down my shaft, not sure whether to close my eyes and bring myself off to the mental pictures of you in my head, or whether to wait for your next message or picture and wank over that instead.

I’m hard while I watch TV, one hand idly in my pocket, a finger tracing the length of my shaft, unable to touch myself properly for fear of betraying myself. I’m erect in bed, lifting the covers into a tent above my groin, worried that when I sleep my mind will start playing back our fantasies and that I’ll have a wet dream, waking up covered in my own come. Then I’ll wake hard again, my rock-solid cock upright and ready for another day.

I’m hard almost every waking hour, and for some of the sleeping ones. My balls ache, my stomach is stiff as if I’ve been doing sit-ups, the muscle between my legs is tired, and cock tip is red-raw from rubbing against my trousers whilst I try and get on with the things I should be doing, all the while with an erection.

For god’s sake, don’t stop.

Mobile blogging sucks

Blogging from a mobile phone isn’t easy. Blogger doesn’t support Pocket IE at all, WordPress is better but not ideal, and there are a few apps which will run on a phone but none of them allow Blogspot posts to be edited once they’re posted and most are quite limited. So you will have to excuse any typos or formatting cock-ups I make. It’s exacerbated because I can’t access my blog at work or home on a computer to tidy it up….

This also means that for Blogspot blogs, I can’t leave a comment – even if I loved your latest post. I try and email personally, but rest assured, I am reading many blogs…albeit silently…

Self-service

The first thing I feel is your knees against my ribs, and the heat of your thighs against my skin. Then my mouth senses a hard point on my lips, and I instinctively open my lips and begin to lick and suck it.

I open my eyes, and briefly see a blurred figure in front of me, before clenching them shut again to shield them from the pain of too-bright morning sun streaming in through the open curtains. I open them again, slowly this time to protect them from the blinding shafts of light.

You’re above and astride me, hands planted in the pillows either side of my head, breasts pushed into my face, tousled hair hanging down and brushing my forehead. Your hips wriggle above my pulsating morning glory – it seems my cock is eager and ready for action long before I am.

As I kiss and suck your gorgeous breasts, you lower yourself onto me, taking the base of my shaft in your thumb and forefinger to guide me between your already-wet lips and deep into your hungry cunt. Your mouth kisses my ears and you whisper softly, “I’ve been awake for hours, fingering myself and thinking about last night. I couldn’t wait for you any longer, so decided to help myself…”.

Your words cause images and memories of a few hours ago to flash across my mind – your bound wrists pushed across the table, your skirt hitched up and your panties around your feet, your red, roundly-smacked arse glowing and dripping with my come, the taste and feel of my mouth licking my spunk from between your legs and kissing you with it, sharing our tastes on our lips.

Arousing from my slumber, I am invigorated as you take my full length into your hot cunt, and I begin to participate, raising and lowering my hips to ensure you get my full length deep inside you. You sit up, adjusting the angle of my shaft so my cockhead nudges right at your most sensitive spot, and you toss your hair back with your hands behind your head, pushing your tits out for my willing hands to stroke, cup and caress.

As your grind your hips into my pelvis, I hold onto your hips and begin to buck, and now your hands are on my stomach, feeling it spasm and surge as my muscles begin to build up to my orgasm. With a kick and a shudder, I burst, lifting you high off the bed and causing you to climax too, your cunt gripping and squeezing my cock, milking it dry as my warm sticky fluid fills you up.

You fall forwards, breasts pushed against my chest, and kiss me, our lips and tongues entwined as I soften inside you. You grin insanely, buzzing from our early morning wake-up. After a few minutes you slip off me and pad naked across the floor into the kitchen to help yourself again, this time orange juice, coffee and croissants. I drift off back to sleep, recharging myself for when you return, when I will help myself to a delicious breakfast…