‘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!!
A dream of mine, more truthfully a fantasy which could be an entry on my bucket list big sigh, would be to visit the theatre and watch the stage version of The Rocky Horror Picture Show dressed as a woman, or the character Dr. Frank-N-Furter to be more specific.
“Why so Andrew” you may ask? Because the majority of readers to this post 🙂 will be aware men go to watch this wonderful musical at the theatre wearing high heels, stockings suspenders ‘big knickers’ a bustier and of course the obligatory brunette curly wig, all to liken themselves to sexy scientist Tim Curry or as close as they could possible hope to. (Picture left.)
I own very few movies on DVD simply because you soon tire of watching the same movie more than say three occasions in a lifetime, well my collection consists of All The Presidents Men (because I’m a Political animal), The Life of Brian (because Python’s script is a work of genius) and thirdly The Rocky Horror Picture Show because I love both the music and sheer theatrical magnificence, plus I fell in love the first time I set my eyes on the virginal SusanSarandon…… a gorgeous sexy woman and still is!
The first time I became aware men went to watch the stage version looking like TimCurry in drag, was from my sister-in-law (a wonderful woman in every respect) and unbeknownst to me she and my brother had seen the musical in Cambridge and he’d gone to see Rocky Horror suitably dressed in drag……… and further still he’s never once told me, not that he ever needed to mind!
This post is themed women’s stockings and not Rocky Horror.
There’s no excuse for me not going and watching the Stage version in drag is there, but lol you can’t go on your own and no one I know is remotely interested, and anyways I’d imagine University students could pull the look off though I’m not so sure about middle aged men! I should add I love the musical foremost for the fabulous toe tapping songs and memorable hooks and not necessarily the costume wearing.
I am a bit of a closet exhibitionist, by that I mean I’ve posted pictures of me ‘inside’ my Fleshlight sextoy for WordPress only, which incidentally I trashed many many months ago (toy), and there’s a photograph of me wearing new underpants in a post! But most importantly they are photos absolutely relevant to the two posts (promise lol), I would never share them just for the sake of showing off because that’s just plain sad lol!
Where was I before meandering into tales of Rocky Horror, oh yes cross dressing wearing women’s clothes!
There’s a British comedian named Eddie Izard who performs his stand up routine dressed as a woman, a transvestite have you will and he looks fantastic as a woman, but then why should we adhere to sexually orientated dress codes simply because society expects us to? Though don’t go forgetting the fact 95% of men look terrible in women’s lingerie whereas a woman looks sexy and gorgeous, btw the lady doesn’t have to be a size 8 to look sensational. I’ve undressed a woman, in her bedroom I might add and she wanted me to, who was let us say a lady on the larger side. 😉
Well not long after we’d met for the final time I thought to myself ‘Andrew, C. said I had a fantastic looking ass’ whilst she massaged Boots own brand coconut butter into my shoulders, and as you may have seen from my watching Rain photographs I have pretty good legs even if I say it myself.
Like I said after we’d last met and I guess a few days/weeks later, I popped into Marks and Spencer lingerie Department and because I have no shame I purchased a pair of black stockings in my size. Incidentally the young Lady to her credit never once broke into a smile and I should add my heart was thumping beneath my chest, my cheeks were burning red and I couldn’t leave the store quick enough after purchasing.
God knows how I didn’t have a heart attack!
That same evening after I’d returned to the comfort of my own bedroom I shut the curtains sat on the bed and opened the cellophane packet, forgetting to add I clipped my toe nails first. I’ll put you out of your misery reading this silly tale, I slipped off my jeans and gently pushed one foot into a stocking then carefully unrolled smoothed that oh so sexy garment the complete length of my leg. Btw isn’t the elasticated stocking ‘hold up’ a clever design, I mean those rubber strips gently gripping the skin without leaving a mark or slipping down! Learnt something that evening!
Then for half an hour or so I walked round my bedroom, gazed at the reflection of myself in the full length wardrobe mirror, sat on the edge of the bed lol gliding the palms of my hands up and down that shiny silky smooth polyester fabric, finally coming to the earth shattering conclusion I looked bloody stupid wearing ladies stockings. HOWEVER with a bustier and high heals I think I’d look absolutely fabulous at the theatre watching The Rocky Horror Picture Show.
And before you ask, with my underwear curiosity at an end I unfurled those stockings and truthfully have never worn them again, basically for no other reason than wearing black stockings on their own IS a little sad, very sad indeed, and as only ladies can attest to you have to wear the full sexy ensemble to carry the look off.
Andrew. (Before you judge me, I’m not the first guy who’s tried on women’s black stockings and I doubt I’ll be the last! 😀 )
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?”
Hopefully you’ll have read ’email friendships with other bloggers Part 1 if not here’s the linkpart 2 follows directly after this post.
Jen the lady blogger I met in person and the tale of our day together follows in part 2.
NOT that boobs are important to my tale 😀 but you may wish to know I lightly stroked Jen’s bra by accident! You see after our farewell embrace on the train platform, as our two body’s separated, as my arms pulled away from hugging her, my fingers brushed the sides of her bra cups feeling the lacy fabric beneath. You see I’d fallen for Jen but alas she hadn’t fallen for me anyways I’d become a little emotional at the station and I guess that’s why I unintentionally ‘touched her’ 😉 .
Not to worry we both laughed afterwards, in fact she reminded me of this lady below 😉
My erotic tale is sexually explicit (err very but if you know me it’s a happy good natured tale and my favourite ) anyways if you’d like to read then feel free to comment I’ll give you the password and if you wish I’ll delete the comment. 🙂
English summer’s traditionally begin mid June and end early October, I should qualify with a usually lasts that long! So more often than not our summer days of decent weather lasts longer than people overseas may imagine, of course we don’t get months of hot searing heat radiating from white hot suns, no there’ll be few of those, but interspersed they’ll be many more wet windy and cold winter’s days, for example, days such as in this little tale. If you were riding this railway carriage with myself, a day’s excursion on the North York Moors, you’ll hear no end of well known British weather sayings, may even be one such as this,
“Winter’s come early”, said the young lady sitting on a cushioned seat near opposite me, her abruptness waking me out of my contemplative day dream, “pardon miss”, I replied with a shocked start!
“Winters’s come early”, she repeated pushing her arms and shoulders forward, fondly smiling, making out she was shivering and I’d guess pressing clenched hands deep into her lap. I say guess because a large wooden table fixed to left side of the carriage obscured my view of her waist down.
Such a strange involuntary reaction shivering, I wonder if it really helps one warm chilled frozen stiff muscles?
The young lady continued smiling at me, and don’t you find the timespan for a smile represents how greatly a lady likes you, what she wishes from you in return? Too short and she’s forcing herself to make small talk, too long and she’s really into you or is that soppy old Andrew reading too much into feminine flirtations again, when a lady starts to talk to me I fall in love. Happens a lot, I go all submissive puppy-like instantly wishing wanting needing her.
I returned a smile this time going one step further looking into her eyes, and now I’m inwardly panicking having been caught off guard, nervously I answered with possibly the lamest most awful reply known to man, wait for it!
“Yes but the weather man on the radio said it’ll brighten up by this afternoon”, when really I wanted to say something very different, my eyes glancing below her chin for a spilt second then lower still, returning upwards re capturing her gaze.
Oh yes what I really wanted to say to this pretty girl, not beautiful as in a makeup model straight from Vogue magazine beautiful, no she was very much the pretty girl next door type, lovely delightful appealing with curly long brunette hair resting atop her shoulders, ah recalling the actual question crossing my mind. me now feeling the very end of my dick tingle and twitch, shaft hardening to the point of feeling slightly uncomfortable inside tight jeans! what I really wanted to say was,
‘honey why are you not wearing a bra?’
I hadn’t caught notice of the ladies face or her bosom till a little way into our journey, the train had stopped at Gothland Station I clambered aboard, crossing a grubby green carpeted aisle, my legs touching brushing past her jeans on the way, making mental note she’s wearing walking boots, then plonking myself down on the seat by the window! I hadn’t given the lady a second glance really.
Well that’s untrue, seated I looked across for the briefest of moments, enough to see her head was bowed, I assume concentration etched across her face reading a map (hold that thought), then getting my act together I layed my belongings out on the table, sighed rather loudly then gazed out the window watching the incredible scenery pass before my eyes, only then after a couple of minutes did I turn my head in the direction of my female traveller, only then did I notice that her walkers rain coat was unzipped open exposing two mounds of a rather large breasts, within tight navy blue tee shirt I might add!
So of course my attention’s magnetically drawn to her rather prominent nipples pointing through the soft stretchy cotton, oh yes I noticed those two alright! Walking boots and an outdoor coat all indicate she was a hiker and here’s the payoff just like me, I’m virtually dressed the same without hard nipples.
The train pulls away and slowly rumbles its way through beautiful rain sodden countryside, flat and dark green only spongy heather for vegetation. Now comfortably settled with rucksack on the seat beside me, heritage train book and packed lunch an arms length away in front on the table, we rocked and rolled through a picture perfect beautiful landscape that attracts people from across the globe, yet on cold wintry summer days such as these, a low grey cloud, a persistent deluge of heavy rain meant we were the only two souls in the carriage.
Though hold on a second! Listening to a hushed chatter from what sounded like a young woman also muffled occasional squeals of laughter from a child we were NOT alone, a voice of slightly higher pitch making the number five pop into my mind. A girl of five years old, I guess a mother and daughter were seated at the very far end on a day out like us two strangers.
Anyways the change in weather meant only we four travelled today in a carriage pulled by this gruff throaty diesel engine, 1960’s, preserved for tourists in seek of nostalgia.
We trundled our way through rural Yorkshire me time to time glancing across our shared light coloured oak table, and looking about the rail car the whole interior was a soft golden hew, where was I? Voyeurism, every sixty seconds or so out of the corner of my eye I’d glance across at her breasts again jiggling side to side up and down, they were large enough to notice and certainly enjoyable to watch, bouncing higher when a carriage jumped two connecting rails, and I’d say round enough to know they’re more than a handful when holding one up, though now positioned a good couple of inches above her tummy, made no secret this I’d guess age 25 pretty young lady had boobs on the bigger side.
I thought to myself she should really be wearing a bra because they’re just that little too heavy not to be supported, in a few years when she reaches thirty they’ll drop, sag to not far above her belly button, but they’ll still look adorable parting a resting position well to sides of her chest still looking sexy as older woman’s boobs do, I nearly said to her ‘you’ll only ever get sexy cleavage again by wearing a Wonderbra’, I didn’t!
Anyways as you’ll have deduced by now my attention is drawn to her boobs rather than spectacular scenery, then totally out of the blue she looks up from the map she’s interestedly following and beams me such a sweet smile and saying,
A post inspired by a pregnant woman who smiled at me as we passed each other walking along the lane that joins my home to Town. (July 2017)
Also prompted by a News story from America, apparently there was a little controversy (‘noise there’s always noise’ a quote 🙂 ) when a viewer branded anchor woman Laura Warren’s baby bump ‘disgusting’ by voicemail, I know I’m baffled to?
A question for you. In polite society is a guy allowed to say a pregnant lady can look sexy? Or is thinking let alone admitting a definite no no.
I’m not fishing for compliments here, this question genuinely honestly crosses my mind time to time, say as I’m commuting to work on the bus bored out of my mind.
The celebrity pictured below (who?) is ‘with child’ and in my learned opinion she is quite a few weeks in and not long till giving birth? And well I think she has a very sexy figure however she’s carrying someone inside so am I coming across as a little bit pervy? Don’t mean to!
Blog intermission, bit like those ice cream breaks you used to get at the cinema if you’re old enough to remember!
Quick update to my erotica tale, btw there won’t be another, you just DON’T know how much that post took out of me, I finished part 3 and thought OMFG 9 erotic fantasy writers have liked, Jeez, what if my story’s an ‘anti-climax’? Not to worry my erotic tale went ‘down’ well however I won’t be revealing fact from fantasy……….. 🙂 I’ll leave you to guess.
Returning to pregnant ladies, as I’ve told you I was walking into Town along the lane that crosses the Common and not far into my housing estate one sunny July morning all of a sudden I see a lady by herself walking toward me wearing a full length black maxi dress, you know the ones, they’re made like a long sock out of stretchy cotton fabric and it NEVER ceases to amaze me a maxi dress clings to every part of a ladies body as if spray painted on!
My guess is it takes a confident woman to wear one because they show every lump bump and curve of her body, the complete outline of her figure. Anyways she’s coming toward me and I’m sorry but I cannot not take my eyes from staring, not at her boobs hips waist through to the mound of her ‘you know what’ which is very clear to see, probably one of the sexiest dresses known to man, however I wasn’t looking at her figure I was kinda staring at her bump!
……………..became friends, our email relationship had progressed to a point where one sunny afternoon in July, and not so long ago, I found myself in Chantelle’s London Flat ‘boudoir’ standing naked at the foot of a double bed inside her warm cosy bedroom, more precise I’d undressed totally nude only my hard cock to keep me company, holding it’s shaft in my hand a sort of comfort blanket, gently stroking calmed this horny guy excitedly anticipating heavenly pleasures only this voluptuous blonde could give me,
Oh did I say she was age 40!……………..Then through open door she walks this middle aged blonde goddess, with a big bum tight waste pert high round boobs, all dressed up as a nurse (backpage pic) in white mini-dress, her wide open cleavage as you’ve never seen in your life before.
We said hello, exchanged pleasantries and suddenly feeling quite emotional I moved to face her less than a metre apart, then peeking down her plunging neckline I moved closer still unbuttoning her all the way down, opening the white pinafore then slipping the soft cotton fabric backward over her shoulders, I remember standing transfixed dumb founded unable to move my eyes surveying up and down her pink naked body my brain trying to process this vision of beautiful naked womanhood. Chantelle has the firmest roundest most shapely breasts I’ve squeezed in my entire life, high and round about one handful. Then I place my hands above her hips pulling her body to me one final time, we embrace tightly, our heads along side each others, her baby soft cheeks pressing into my twelve hour stubble, her hushed voice saying,
“So Andrew what shall we do this fine afternoon?”
My heart beat slowed to normal, phew I thought to myself ‘we’re going to be ok, we’re going to have fun’ and completely relaxed I replied,
“Well in your email you said I could cum in your mouth and babe that sounds fine to me”, she giggled winked and said “not so fast honey, I want you inside my mouth but first some kissy kissy” and with that she grabbed great handfuls of my plump buttocks, her head leaning back giggling like the little girl Chantelle really was!
Then I kissed Chantelle, passionately, tongues deep inside the each other’s mouth, wet with saliva entwining dancing all you readers being aware there’s no body part more sensitive than the tongue………..we must have kissed for twenty minutes, you think I make this sh*t up? 😀 Nope, our embrace became tighter, bodies touching ever more intimate, my hands moving from hips to squeezing fat buttock cheeks then back to her hips again, we kiss ever more passionately, devouring, breathless into each other’s mouths, even red lipstick smeared across our lips, I thought her face appeared amusing until I saw my reflection in a mirror later.
I’m a boob man through and through, large or small pert or sagging, means no odds to me as long as I can play with them, suckle on a nipple, drink like a new born babe then I’m happy and satisfied. What does breast milk taste of? I’ve bottle fed my nephew with J’s own milk craving to suck just once but I didn’t!
I longed to touch Chantelle’s breasts, but our bodies were tooo close! “Loosen up girl!!!” I said momentarily pulling away!
We continued to kiss, two naked silhouettes drawn together, her arms wrapped less tightly around my waist pulling holding me against her, her warmth touched every part of the front of my body, such an affectionate embrace of two lovers who’d been here before. Aroused, sexually excited I struggled to slip my hand between our bodies so I could grope her firm breasts, but I’d been a worried man when we first cuddled, I could feel my aroused hardness pushing between her inner thighs, the pressure making the base of my purple bell end tingle, thousands of nerve endings electrified and I thought to myself ‘what if in my excitement I’d entered her, my now horizontal phallus pushed deep in to her wet vagina pressing against her womb, throbbing engorged with blood, hell I may have spontaneously orgasmed sticky cum inside, consensual mind, is involuntary semen exchange rape if she hadn’t expected my phallic explosion! But not to worry I missed her pink gash, I don’t much like fucking anyway but all’s well 🙂 my engorged phallus slipped between Chantelle’s warm squeezed thighs, briefly stroking wet labia lips, mind you hers did flap about a bit, we kissed and kissed and deep French kissed some more, many a minute passed before we spoke again.
I guess with tired lips and aching jaws we must have mutually sensed it time to stop the wonderful French, so backing away I moved on to her bed, body sinking into warm duvet and dutifully followed by my mature horny babe her wetness flowing out of her vagina like water drops slipping down glass in a rain storm, and like a reluctant virgin about to be deflowered on her wedding night she lay down beside me. We embraced affectionately then as tight as before, gently rolling over each other for what will be one of the more fantastic afternoons of my life, as for her? She always said she had fun but this time she wanted something different.
So lovely readers 😀 we leave our two lovers for the moment, embraced facing each other kissing on the lips, all very tender and motionless.
For months previous to first meeting we chatted time to time via email, Snapchat FB Twitter and Skype aren’t for me, aren’t for us, todays young internet generation can’t comprehend how two people can ‘play’ without help of social media and tell me where’s the harm daily writing to each other as our forbears would have? Do children today understand that written exchanges between lovers go as far back as Jane Austin times?
Love letters sent between lovers possessing intriguing codes secrets and hidden messages keeping each other guessing even after the letter is returned to it’s envelope, I enjoy email, it f*cking stresses me out mind, many a time I’ll press send then panic with questions of, ‘did I express myself as I intended? Oh God have I offended her? Worse still upset?’ Not to worry, more often than not my replies made her smile even laugh sometimes. Long ago I came to a decision not to on-line date, women have told me the horror stories, explained how scams work, perhaps I’m a cynic, for one thing is sure I know there are lots of lonely ladies out there, perhaps I should give it a try, honesty is one aspect of WordPress that is plain to see, the blogger you are reading is bearing her soul, truthful and trusting, me also because not a single word is a lie………………come to think of it perhaps on my old blog I did say I’d done anal, that must have been some weird dream because I haven’t been there…………..yet, enough and I’m SORRY!!!!!
Returning to naked me and Chantelle our bodies near joined as one tenderly rolling atop her double bed, me luckiest man alive hugging a beautiful mature lady……if a little overweight!
……………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.
After two years of ‘writing’ on WordPress some readers may possibly be aware I have no common single theme on Blog Andrew but I’ve always published with one aim and that is if at least one person enjoys reading whether that be photographs, a silly tale or even a cookery lesson then I’m happy and certainly don’t wish for awards and recognition. (As if 😀 )
Further still over the course of those two years I haven’t reblogged a previous Post which some will be thankful for! However for the first time I’m going to re publish a personal favourite in hope that people enjoy, the incident lol happened a good while ago and has been rewritten in part and this time I’ll be more truthful and say, judge me if you will, but this happened…………… anyways it’s my blog and all that so I’ll post again 😀
But beware this tale won’t be to everyone’s taste. ❤ ……….. and the next will be different again.
‘Where to begin? I’ll set the scene that’s a good place to start…………… One evening a good few years ago I was peeking through my slightly parted bedroom curtains, my body propped up against the window sill gazing out across the fields which lay behind the house opposite, tonight I was watching a truly spectacular thunder and lightening display, this evening I was privileged to witnessing mother nature’s awe inspiring power, raw unbridled magnificent energy, every few minutes I felt my house shake after loud claps of thunder overhead, several minutes further and my eyes would be momentarily blinded by phosphorous white lightening strikes thunderstorms so very specific to English hot summers, then finally tarmac bouncing rain quenching England of all stifling heat and humidity………….. luckily the rain would stay away for a few hours longer!!!
……….. below this display of electric lightening and bedroom rocking thunder a bright light suddenly appeared from the third story room window opposite, an angled rooftop window set against grey tiles, and a white luminance so bright it woke me from my magnificent daydream, so what vision did my focusing eyes see?
There standing before me in clear close view was the silhouette of a slim auburn haired middle aged lady standing waist up behind her window sill………. I knew her to speak to as my neighbour across the Street, a lady called Helen (not really), age 45ish attractive in a yummy mummy sort of way, I fancied her of course and she’s happily married to a lovely guy but I wouldn’t say no if she asked, I’ve seen her picking up leaves in the front garden and she’s a handsome figure of a woman, a young looking sexy 45 year old, even after ‘blank’ children she still has a trim figure.
In a state of nerves and shock, my mind trying to process what the f#ck was happening over the road, I quickly ran and rummaged through a draw for my binoculars, God knows how I didn’t break my neck on the laminate flooring, then quick as a flash I regained my position and with hands shaking drew the lenses to my eyes. I can remember clearly the moment Helen’s bright window appeared, crystal clear and pin sharp, a vision so close now I could make out expressions on her face and the room within, my heart pounding catching my breath I propped my elbows on the sill and watched!!!!! I’d seen breasts down blouses before, by chance mind, but now I was a proper voyeur lol.
I’ve seen and chatted to Helen many times before but seeing her tonight was a whole lot different, I assumed this was her spare room but I’ve no idea it being situated above my eye line and set well back behind Street’s view, no one but me could see Helen and she was safe in the knowledge I wouldn’t be watching however I was, all very Hitchcock’s Rear Window! Well tonight for 25 minutes or so she went about her homely duties, mainly carrying bundles of clothes around the room, folding sheets, putting clean washing in draws? Who knows, just understand Helen was busy and I’m excited, both engrossed and fascinated I watched as she’d paused time to time under the apex of this small cramped space, stopping aside the smallish square open window, blind open, visible waist up, me watching….incredible!
Each time Helen paused her domestic routine I could see she was wearing a skin tight yellow tee shirt so visibly figure hugging I made out the profile of her bosom but the height of the window meant I could see no lower. Observing her was enough and I wasn’t masturbating, she looked so lovely against this bright white light, still calm and deep in thought a side of her I’d never witnessed, a lovely lady and I fancied her AND yes I agree with you I was invading her privacy!
Well after a few minutes of innocent voyeurism all the more exciting because the female recipient was unaware, she paused again and did something so shocking I remember swallowing hard and the binoculars trembling, Helen suddenly pulled up her shirt from the waist moving her arms skywards stripping off the garment over her head, then she held it up to the light (not window) looked at it then folded and threw to her side, at this point I was totally stunned, gobsmacked, omg I couldn’t believe I was actually watching her undress for the first and only time in my life! Jesus a performance like this only really happens in filthy novels and artistic movies. To say I was amazed is a frigging understatement, my mind was alive, my heart was pounding, the tip of my penis quivering, the lady opposite was wearing only a pretty white bra set against her pink naked body, Helen’s gorgeous and I’m partial to naturel small breasts.
Seconds later she reached her arms behind her back, unclipped her bra allowing the white straps to glide down her arms before again tossing the undergarment to her side, minutes ago I’d been watching the approaching soon to be thunderstorm peeking through curtains, and by pure glorious coincidence I now see an illuminated nude like painting of the lady opposite near completely naked and all with my binocular lens centred on her perfect small pert breasts, her pink skin and auburn hair. Nothing below mind but I didn’t care, tonight I was a voyeur intimately watching my neighbour Helen undress and in hindsight I’m at a loss as to why I didn’t faint or have a heart attack. Unbelievable! Incredible! Beautiful! OMFG!!!! Voyeurism is wrong but by God forbidden fruit tastes sweet.
Throughout this striptease performance I’d asked myself ‘what’s she looking at her gaze fixed on something across the room?’ She’d been alone, was it a mirror or picture and I could sense Helen’s mind is distracted by something, then she startled me, she stretched an arm straight up in the air and proceeded to move her other hand below the armpit gently smoothing the palm against her skin, methodically caressing in circling motions a picture of concentration etched across her face.
I should I have turned away shouldn’t I? Closed the curtains and gone back to bed! You must be f&%king joking legally it’s my window sill and the view out is mine!
Of course I kept watching.
Helen caressessed squeezed prodded her breasts with two fingers then switching hands she repeated this now obvious checking ritual beneath the other pit of her upwardly stretched arm, all the while her face a picture of serene concentration, she even held both boobs at once as if pointing squirting sprays of milk at a mirror and now I’m sure she’s looking at her reflection in a mirror opposite? Of course by now I’d worked out what she was doing, I was witness to something very private and intimate, she was examining her breasts in a time honoured womanly routine her wistful calmness so beautiful it touched my soul (true), she’d been of course feeling for changes within her breasts, I hope to God there were none and of course tonight I was a very VERY lucky man.
So a question to any ladies reading and judging voyeur Andrew, remember that definition, I ask if you happened to be watching a neighbour strip naked then feel squeeze examine his testicles what would you do? Close the curtains? Go to bed? Or satisfy your voyeuristic appetite? Come on be honest now, no please don’t, but I have my own idea what you’d all do, one or two would be in bed long before now and the rest would have their hand down the front of their knickers doing the things girls do, remember I’m NOT a nasty man.
So how did your late night adventure end Andrew? Well her breast examinations lasted five minutes then all of a sudden something startled her, perhaps a noise from the Street below or a sudden awareness she was in-fact standing naked in her bedroom, lights on, aside an open window because tonight was so damn hot and humid, who knows? But quick as a flash she pulled a forearm across her chest covering her breasts at the same time leaning forward forcibly pulling down the blind shut!!
Performance over I caught my breath, my heart rate lowered as I climbed into bed and most amusingly of all still holding my binoculars, I woke up next morning with them! Then I slept like a baby totally utterly exhausted and btw at no point did I masturbate myself a middle aged man can only take so much excitement in one evening. Have I ever seen her undress again? NO because I never look out of my window unless there’s lightening to watch thunder to hear, in-fact that statement is absolutely true. So consequently I’ve never seen her undress again or honestly attempted to, yes even on humid warm balmy evenings because I know for fact striptease displays, a naked woman, live breast examinations are coincidences that happen once in a guys lifetime.’
So there you are, last time I published this I questioned ‘is my voyeurism a true tale or fiction? Is my incredibly vivid and erotic memory so etched across my mind only a story? I’ll allow the reader to decide’, well the evenings events as written actually happened, judge me she certainly would, fabulous and all very Jimmy Stewart in Hitchcock’s ‘Rear Window’.
Ladies I’ll leave you with one thought, be careful what you are doing late at night in your bedroom because someone might be be watching! 😀
Shows how long I’ve been away from WordPress, a lady I used to Follow I’ll refer to as P is now a married woman! Yep 3 months ago she was a blogging single mum of five children then yesterday evening I read her most recent Post and she’s sharing photographs of her new wedding, lovely pictures of a happy smiling couple holding hands exchanging wedding rings and she’s dressed in virgin white which would make her smile if she read this. Of course I wrote a sincere comment congratulating her and wishing them both well, truly I’m so pleased because she used to be such an unhappy blogger and seeing her visibly in love really brightened up my day.
Just shows life is too short to be wasting time feeling sorry for yourself (Andrew), you may have guessed the saying ‘seize the day’ came to mind, Wow! lady P is now married, who’d have thought!
A different blogger I still read time to time, a wise middle aged lady named S once wrote something I’ve never forgotten, you know one of those memorable life quotes that stick in the mind probably because they personally resonate, usually applicable to oneself. In fact the quote has resided in one of my Draft Posts for six months. Perhaps I thought one day I’ll write about lady S’s thoughts, well you guessed looking at P’s wedding pictures yesterday brought her saying back to mind. Shall I share? Remember I’ve never forgotten:
A friend ………becomes a lover……..becomes a wife
Such a crystal clear incisive piece of writing don’t you think? Read again and the sentiment therein appears so logical, love’s Holy Grail, the secret to a long lasting blissful happiness and perhaps she conjures images in your own mind, people you’ve known throughout your life, opportunities relationships you may have missed out on ….or ACTED upon 🙂 .
Read a second time and you’ll perhaps agree this lady’s blogged message cannot be transposed in order to work, let me explain. Let us say two lovers become matrimonial husband and wife, HOWEVER imagine they were not friends to begin with, will their relationship last?
Transpose again. First keep in mind sex is a bonding mechanism throughout nature between two mammals. Now our two friends have become husband and wife however they were virgins before marriage and didn’t have sex thereafter, happens! Even though a deep friendship made for a happy marriage would could it fail because of the absence of sexual fulfilment? Especially if one more than the other desperately needed intimacy? Perhaps failure is the wrong word and unhappy marriage is nearer the truth?
…… 😀 by now you’ll have worked out my final math life conundrum. If two friends become lovers however their lustful consummation didn’t blossom into marriage, if two sexually attracted friends (note could be same sex) met only for fabulous f*cking, with no thoughts of marriage, no long term commitment, again would the relationship ever last? Probably not, a relationship based purely on sex seems shallow loveless and bereft of happiness.
So lol do you now understand my preoccupation with an order that cannot be broken transposed? For a relationship to work, ‘a friend becomes a lover becomes a marriage’, is a path you must follow and theoretically the answer is you discovered your soulmate.
Back to Lady’s S’s shared wisdom.
Am I wrong here? Can you understand why I’ve never forgotten this lady’s prophetic words? Ok her reply to my long forgotten comment is a simplistic phrase taken from romantic paperback fiction but I think she’s correct and I’ll never be convinced otherwise.
I’m SO curious? What did I write warranting her reply?
So I hear you ask what has a YouTube video of a young lady playing Amelie on piano got to do with all my nonsense? Nothing 😀 except I’ll tell you I’ve been making a nuisance of myself around YouTube, I have my own little Channel don’t you know.
Well short story I follow a lady pianist because she’s both beautiful and I adore listening to her play people’s requests, and because La Valse d’Amelie is a favourite of mine and the talented lady asks for requests, I suggested this tune and she played it for me……..well I like to imagine just for me either way her piano playing video was at my suggestion plus I’m a sucker for a gorgeous face.