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My Weekend Visitor

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A few years ago, I was a freshly-divorced girl looking for a new romance. I met a cute guy on an Internet dating service, and we started e-mailing, then phoning and exchanging letters with pictures.
After about a month, we made plans to meet. We both liked reggae music, and a well-known Jamaican musical group was playing in my town, so I invited him to go to the concert with me and stay at my apartment for the weekend. I also told him there was a sofa bed in the living room he could sleep on, just so he wouldn't think I was too loose.
The concert was great, and he was so cute and sweet and charming that I almost asked him to join me in my bed, but I resisted. He was disappointed (from the look on his face) but adult enough to accept the sofa bed like a gentleman.
I guess the nightie I was wearing when I deep-kissed him goodnight set him off, because a few minutes after I closed my bedroom door and got into bed, I heard him get up and go to the bathroom.
He seemed to be taking a long time, so I got up and padded down the hall to see if he was OK. The bathroom door was not fully closed, and in the darkened hallway I could peer through the cracked doorway observe him without being seen myself.
There he was, completely naked, standing at the sink, stroking his huge erection, his head thrown back and his mouth slack-jawed in pleasure!
I was frozen in shock! I had never seen a man masturbate himself before, not any of my boyfriends or my ex-husband, for that matter.
As I stood there, watching him, wondering whether to say something or just go back to bed, I started to get excited. I felt my nipples get warm and erect, and wetness start to soak the front of my nightie. I pulled up the front of the gown and touched my middle finger to my wetness, then smelled it and tasted it. I have always gotten so excited tasting my pussy juice when I get horny.
I looked up and watched him pumping the head of his penis, faster now, his face straining with concentration, and I started circling my sensitive clit with my middle finger. Knowing he would die of embarassment if he knew I was watching him was so exciting to me, and I came very quickly, the muscle spasms making me bend at the waist as my knees trembled. Just as I felt my last pleasurable shudder pass, I watched as he shook with pleasure and launched two or three huge streams of white sperm into the sink, then hold on the the edge of the cabinet for support as his knees began to buckle.
As quietly as I could, I backed down the hallway into my darkened bedroom and shut the door, and listened to him clean up and go back to his bed. I slept like a baby that night, then woke up the next morning to the smell of bacon and eggs frying in the kitchen. What a sweet guy he was, making us breakfast after a night of hot (solo) sex! We didn't see each other again after that weekend, but I still ocasionally masturbate to my memory of that incredible voyeuristic night.



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