‘If you never change your mind, why have one? (Edward De Bono)’, I had intended to post every day, but some of you will know me by now, my post order and self imposed rules change like the wind, anyways here’s a request post………. and I’ll be gone for a day or three, I do think I’ve become a little ‘samey’ (English term), so I’ll leave the masseuse story for another day 4000 words ffs! Anyways err have a laugh with this one!
Oh and be aware the two scrunched up balls of black polyester lingerie now lie deep within the chest of draws from whence they came, mind you I’d bet I’m not the first guy to have worn black stockings, and I doubt I’ll be the last!!
I’ve broke a rib! I can’t get out the house! I’m bored! Hence posts such as this! Normal service resumes soon, promise!
I hope you’ll read my soon to follow post. A thoughtfully written piece where I address the fact I work alongside young females, I’ll share my views as to ‘what is and what isn’t’ appropriate behaviour, do new rules sensibilities and boundaries exist in 2017? Or have men always understood right from wrong in the workplace?
SO with my new found moral respectability in mind, this post is themed observations of women riding bicycles wearing short skirts showing their knickers! I try so SO hard to be thoughtful and serious but (big sigh) sexual themes amuse me. My apologies in advance.
Cheap Thrill (noun) def. Something providing only short-lived enjoyment or satisfaction.
I haven’t written one of my sexy observations of the fair sex posts for a while, time to put that right 😉 The beautiful historic City of Oxford, and you’ll understand where I’m coming from if you’ve ever visited, is a city of year on year eternal youth and a consequence of being a seat of learning each September a new ‘crop lol’ of let’s refer to girls 18+ only, begin their University education, a new intake of female students and young women flood Oxford’s Medieval Streets and yes their sexuality is on show for all to see, 🙂 this could well be my final ‘observation of the female figure’ Post btw. Note Google images only!!
For reasons incomprehensible to my tiny male mind, a fact of life is ladies of all ages wear short skirts, I know not why, fashion? To attract a mate? All female birds and mammals possess a gift for attracting a mate, women are no different, they have the legs so why not show them? The choice is there’s to make and praise the Lord!
Where was I? Oxford a City of eternal youth! And I’ve used that phrase before with applicable posts, this summer on a particularly hot day I’ve seen many many ‘guys and girls’ wearing very little! A young lady will pass me in the Street boobs a jiggling nipples very often set on full beam if a cool breeze is afoot, and closing my eyes this very moment, I recall one attractive young lady wearing a skin tight purple top with massive round boobs, and nipples the mirror image of Scammell wheel nuts (Google!) Damn I’ve drifted onto a favourite conversation piece of mine, BREASTS!
South African professional model whose name escapes me.
Oh yes where was I short skirts. Whichever the season of a year I’ll wander down town of a lunchtime and young ladies cycle the length of ‘blank’ Street, revealing their glorious long legs and shapely thighs, incidentally this very week as the temperatures have plummeted they’ve switched to adding black stockings to their attractive look. I’m unsure as to factual validity but a guy once told me women wear this garment because they have an extra layer of fat to their bodies? No idea!
Over active imagination!
I shouldn’t really admit this but if I happen to be walking a pavement and visually make out the image of a lady on a bike approaching me, I have been known to edge closer to the road kerb, not pervy close mind! And as she’ll cycle past but a couple of feet away and if she’s wearing a short skirt, I may happen to have the briefest of glimpses of a milky white inner thigh, my eye line drawn all the way to the gusset of next weeks washing! And incidentally ladies will smile for they know exactly what us men are up to!
I’m in a lot of pain 😦 , some Readers might just say good! Andrew 😉
Adult themes? I don’t think so, we’ve ALL played with our 😉 ‘willies’ and ❤ ‘kitties‘ since the day we can remember.
“Well do you? I do!”
A tale of playing with myself and dreaming of Amanda! (Erotica)
To answer the question posed in a previous post, the story tale or poem either stimulates the mind and the genitals or it doesn’t, the picture adds to the mood. 🙂
Come late evening, tired verging on sleepiness, I’ll stand beside my bed with its duvet corner pulled back exposing soft linen sheets atop a firm mattress, all the while following my well rehearsed undressing routine, pulling my boxer shorts down always the final garment to leave my body. Then perhaps I’ll pause for a second touching stroking the erogenous areas of my body, parts covered throughout my day, feeling the cool room air against my skin before climbing into bed and laying back with a weary sigh! Rested comfortable sleepy I end my routine by pulling the heavy cushioned duvet up and over my body, and after having reached over switching the bed side table light out, that’s how my long night’s slumber begins.
I was going to say ‘lay prostrate’ similar to that of a deceased body lying on the slab, I won’t, though that’s the vision crossing before my eyes and least I’m honest. It’s times like these before sleep time that one contemplates their own mortality with eyelids wide open staring into inky black nothingness.
Then I’ll draw my right arm across my face, forearm covering my closing eyes, with always my left arm down below and open palm cupped around my testicle sack. A beautiful caring position is touching oneself whichever the sex, and now tenderly holding and rolling smooth balls between my finger and thumb I’ll playful fondle myself to sleep. Oh and I forgot to say gently! Only a guy can explain the sudden sharp stab of pain if he squeezes his balls tooo tightly!
And that’s the way I send myself to sleep every night, every single night, and so much more relaxing than counting sheep don’t you think? I’ll let you into another secret, lovingly stroking and caressing those small egg shaped orbs is a comfort, a feeling of all the days anxieties being gently cleansed from my body, I guess much the same way three year olds send themselves to sleep clutching a soft furry teddy to their breast.
I don’t know why I’m having to justify myself lol, they’re my balls for heavens sake and I love them!!!
Does anyone else send themselves to sleep like this, hands cupping their balls? Fingers inside their warm kitty? Hmm lol don’t answer!
However once in a while, on an evening such as this, I’ll get a hard on whilst picturing our 50 year old secretary from work, a bright vision of sensuality emblazoned against invisible blackness, and let’s name her Amanda! Always at times like this Amanda is undressed to her bra and panties, isn’t the word panties deliciously sexy, rolling of the tongue like honey from the back of a warm metal spoon!
Closing my eyes tight shut, concentrating hard, Amanda’s hands now reach behind her back, dextrous fingers releasing the clip of her bra strap to reveal large milky coloured breasts, sagging slightly and many years since they dripped their final bead of nectar from teats sucked a thousand times. In my dreams Amanda always has drooping pendulous boobs b’cause she’s a mature lady and that’s the way I love her.
Then gazing longingly into my eyes Amanda drops her delicate lingerie to one side giving a soft whisper moments later as it hits the floor. Smiling coyly she places her two hands on her hips, slips two thumbs beneath the elasticated hem of white cotton knickers, so sexy and virginal, before arching her body forward and pulling the sexy garment downwards, its hem riding atop the curve of her hips, its soft fabric skimming down smooth thighs and resting on her ankles. Almost a virgin but not quite!
Standing upright again and never once breaking her gaze from my eyes, Amanda’s pussy is always bald in my dream the slit of her lips quite visible, and because she’s birthed two daughters in her lifetime, the ragged edges of soft labia resembling a slightly parted genital curtain, and best of all revealing a shocking pink vagina contrasting against her milky white skin.
Jeeze now I’ve got a hard on!
But I’m not gonna masturbate, nope I’m not in the right frame of mind to enjoy pleasuring myself! Feeling far tooo anxious after the day I’ve had.
And as I sit here typing, I wonder if she still has a young girl’s mop of pubic hair? Yes she’s an older woman yet still able to look handsome wearing shoulder length hair, unusual for the more mature ladies? However Amanda dyes hers brunette these days, and I know she does b’cause time to time I see the first millimetres of natural grey coloured growth. The comedienne Jenny Éclair said hair down below is the first thing a lady loses after her menopause? Smooth as a babies bottom she said hers was!
Amanda, not a stitch of clothing draped upon her 50 years old pear shape figure, looking gorgeous, and getting me evermore excited as I lay there picturing this middle aged nude before my eyes. Her legs now slightly further apart, an index finger pressed between parted labia lips, is gently circling and pulling at her clitoral skin making her breath quicken panting even.
Incidentally a question to the older woman who lol isn’t going to answer but hey my story, the waves of genital pleasure a woman experiences at age 50! Are they just as awesome and powerful as when she was 17 or is the kitty beginning to tire?
Where was I? Oh yes laying underneath my warm cosy duvet with the bedroom lights out, my eyes tightly closed imagining an older woman called Amanda wanking herself in my nightdream, me with one forearm resting atop my forehead, and the other tightly holding my ‘sack’ caressing fondling my two balls.
Then as my excitement ever quickens the tip of my penis begins to twitch and tingle releasing beads of precum, a males very own wetness which moistens within my foreskin and NOW feeling down right dirty and horny!! Genitals excited into a life of their own, I release the hold on my testicles instinctively curling fingers round the warm sensitive skin of my hardness, my gentle grip pushing upwards then tugging down again. Then with knuckles tensing, gripping my shaft more firmly, I start to wank harder and quicker and quicker still, so making me pant and gulp for more fresh night air!
But I know these warm and gorgeous pleasurable sensations emanating from the tops of my thighs, around my whole groin, won’t last forever, and now with my body still and motionless except for the vigorous energy applied from my hand, I jerk my hand back and forth, my clenched fingers kissing the rim of my bellend now so sensitive it makes my hips raise, and all the while gazing deep into Amanda’s wet vulva!!
Jesus I know I’m gonna cum soon and this beautiful relaxing pleasure won’t last much longer, with that I’ll whip back my duvet, never once slowing the work from my hand, then feeling the semen palpably rise from my balls, and whispering a “omg I’m gonna cum soon”, gazing at a vision of Amanda’s open pussy, her thighs stretched wide apart I’ll imagine her naked body for a few seconds more! ‘Oh I so want to feel myself deep inside her vagina’ I say to myself, a feeling that makes the tip of my penis throb and buck as I try to capture those pleasurable seconds before orgasm. Then with one final jerk of my wrist, my back arches toward the ceiling, and my groin explosively convulses sending a stream of warm sticky cum across my stomach!
“God I needed that!”
Then as my breathing slows and as the shaft of my penis goes limp and soft, after my brief intimate moment of sexual pleasure subsides, only then does it finally dawn on me,
“Damn I’m gonna have to go and shower now……………why the hell did I have to cum?”
Important message. This afternoon I’ve been chatting with my fabulous 9 year old nephew and he tells me ‘The Emoji Move: Express Yourself’ is “absolute pants!” Incidentally Rotten Tomatoes approved tomatometer critics give this movie a 10% positive review, so lol you’ve been duly warned 😀
Oh yes my post Peeing in the shower! Where shall we begin and note there’s NO imagery this is just for fun!
I haven’t published a JFF post for a while, plus I’m feeling a little hmm , so I thought why not write something hopefully ‘entertaining’ yet at the same time make a serious point.
Now hold on before you leave me, 🙂 I know I’m prone to writing ‘unusually themed’ posts, an understatement if ever there was one, but believe me or not ‘Peeing in the shower’ is a serious topic for discussion amongst politicians and public health officials across many Countries, especially if they have water shortage problems.
So with water conservation in mind I thought why not discuss, try and convince you, plus share a few photographs of men taking showers I found along the way, makes a welcome change from seeing naked women. 🙂
JFF and certainly not to be taken tooo literally or heaven forbid seriously……………….. note there’s no hate no nudity (well a little) no pornography and as I’ve written before 🙂 in the unlikely event you’re under 16 why not go and play a computer game, it’ll be more fun than reading this (hopefully entertaining) silliness!
If you’d like to understand how and why this very bizarre post came about ‘click here’, in my opinion a read should help explain all in less than three minutes, then again after reading you may say wtf and not bother coming back 😀 ………………… are you back? Hope so!
I’ll refrain from cross referencing belle’s post and reply to her questions instead, I’ll tell you my own masturbation story in my own words and in my opinion her’s is far better than mine anyway…………..Jeez takes me an age to begin!
……………then again perhaps I didn’t cum in her mouth and this is a fictional tale. I remember sexy times with ladies as vivid images burnt across my mind, I remember conservations as if my brain possessed an old style tape recording machine, mental powers alone able to press a virtual reality play button whilst sitting on a commuting bus, gazing out the window daydreaming and bored………..Jeez there’s so many unforgettable conversations to replay then again some deeply regrettable, perhaps this is a privilege only bestowed upon persons using public transport? I really mean that, an opportunity tailor made for talented bloggers unlike me. (Ahh, but true!)
Yes you did read that right, public transport! It’s a question of time my lovelies solitary boredom feeds a wandering mind! Good that.
Sometimes I glance around people sitting on the top deck going to work, all doing very little, a few talking in hushed tones and not many read or listen to music which might surprise you, perhaps the jolting swaying down country lanes puts people off I know it does me. Most are silent deep in thought gazing out the windows, and I’ll find myself sitting there watching faces so curious, wondering what conversations and life stories they are playing back on their virtual tape machines? Arguments, happy times, last night’s telly or daydreaming sexual encounters they’ve had or wished they’d had, that pretty Sunday School teacher, a large bust so out of proportion for her slender figure, morning worship and I’d sit in the pew behind staring at the back of her bra, fantasies of what wonders the lingerie held up.
How many of you have the opportunity to sit alone each day, calm quiet with only your thoughts for company and if you’re really unlucky, two hours each day. Squandered precious time, Yes of course it is!
The deck of a bus holds forty adults all sexes and ages trapped constrained by passengers sitting next to them, all with important places to go, yes I’d agree if you said self inflicted solitude is dull and boring, if that’s what you’re thinking, but I’m here to tell you commuting to work by bus or train is one of life’s opportunities to let your imagination run riot, here comes the naughty bit.
No word of a lie many a time I’ve been travelling to work on a bus with an attractive young lady sitting next to me, I ain’t no perv mind but if you said voyeur, I am. I have been known to surreptitiously keep half an eye on her legs if she’s wearing a dress or skirt, you see when a lady sits you’ll know her skirt hem slips towards her hips, gliding across smooth black nylon tights revealing her shapely thighs squeezed tightly together, pussy lips closed tightly shut, her hem line resting distance dependent on the skirt’s length to begin with. Inconsequentials such as skirt length can make or break a bachelors day, if the lady works for a bank I’ll see her knees and little else, if she’s a College student (age 16+) chances are her skirt hem stops inches below her soft cotton gusset, knickers filled with forbidden fruit tasting moist and sweet on a guys tongue………………well pussy’s always taste sweet to me!
Where was I? Commuting to work by bus! Hmm before becoming side tracked by thoughts of female legs I hope I’ve explained that far from being boring quiet solitude, the rhythmic side to side rocking of a bus allows one’s imagination to race with perhaps dreams of conquests past……………………or then again what to cook for the children’s tea tonight………. you pays your money you takes your choice……….. and those of you who blog, maybe you’re a little envious? Nah Andrew don’t be silly, the gift of time is ticking away.
Returning to me seated next to a young lady, when opportunity permits gazing at her smooth thighs (student not banker), and bare in mind commuting etiquette necessitates let’s call rule number one, that two human bodies never knowingly touch other, not even the slightest of contact’s……. do and you’ll get an evil glare, slip a hand between her thighs and you’ll get five years inside! ……..I’ll reach the end of this bloody ‘hosiery’ tale if it takes all evening!!!! Time to time I’ll peek at her black tighted thighs, highly erotic and turning me on but not exciting enough to give me a full hard on, the young lady quite oblivious unless she herself looks down aware blood is engorging my groin causing a hump in my jean crotch.
Little does she know, her oh so sexy legs recall memories of pleasant afternoon’s spent in bed with females of my own, my now perfumed neighbour overpowering my consciousness. I wait in eager anticipation when a bus stops hoping for a pretty lady to sit next to me, clutching her handbag drawn into her tummy and if I rest my elbow on the window seal, support the weight of my head via hand and forearm, I can twist my torso slightly and watch her out the corner of my eye without her noticing, I hope, and when the bus rides a bump I see her heavy bust bounce or jiggle if she’s little tits, really lucky if her collars open I may even see the hint of a bra cup, that quickens my breath and makes my heart beat a little faster, a vapour of cheap perfume wafting my nostrils, bras boobs black tighted thighs give rise to a harder phallus…………even came in my boxers once, wonder if she noticed………so ladies if you’re sitting on a train next to a guy don’t assume he’s contemplating the weather! 😉
Got there in the end! Am I a naughty boy? Or am I worse?
I could write a book of tape recorded stories in my brain, oh I already have, they’re all on my first blog LONG ago deleted………….and why is a long story! But in hindsight I’m pleased I kept no copies, so beware all you poets, story tellers and bloggers, keep copies, back up your files!
The heavenly tale I’m soon to tell, remember you still have an opportunity to run, all……..
To be continued, and I ain’t deleting this time! 1000 words done 2000 to go.