Inspired by Michelle ('Horniest day of my life)
Recently I had the house for myself for almost a whole day. I decided to live out a fantasy which I've had for a long time: wandering about the house, in broad daylight, dressed only in a dark blue fleece sweater which could cover my cock if needed (only just) and fully expose it if I wanted. Obviously I wanted more than just expose it; I wanted to fondle and stroke the hard rod (shaven and silky smooth), dip my fingers in the little pool of pre-cum at the top and lick it, and all those things in places where I 'might' be seen. Since I live in a suburban area, with other houses not so far away both in front and at the back, this would be daring, tremendously exciting, and an extremely horny thing to do. I should add that the situation was in my favour, as the opposite neighbours were away on holidays. On the other hand, as the living room has an open connection with the dining area at the back in a sort of Z shape, people who walk or drive by can have a clear and unobstructed view right through the house and into the back-garden.
I was very much excited by the prospect of what I was going to do. I stirred up my horniness by watching erotic movies at the computer and reading STstories. Then I went downstairs in my hot outfit and entered the living room, slightly nervous. Pre-cum was oozing out in abundance, wetted my sweater and ran down my legs. For a while I remained in a corner outside the line of sight I described earlier. The street was empty. As I started to slowly masturbate through the fabric of the sweater, I felt my nervousness fade away and a delicious, naughty feeling engulfed me. I became hornier by the minute, continuing to fondle my still covered cock and balls, alternating between visibly masturbating through the sweater and through its pockets. I stopped my movements when a woman came by on her bicycle, but she didn't look my way.
I thought it was time for more and bolder action. I lifted the sweater and my cock welcomed its freedom with a fresh blob of clear fluid, which I took on a fingertip. As the blob became a long thread, I let it land on my tongue. Then I started to walk around the room, the throbbing love wand freely pointing up in a sharp angle. Eventually, standing on a spot where I would be clearly visible for anyone, I lifted the sweater further, completely exposing my pelvis, and masturbated up to the very edge of coming. This lovely exhibitionistic game went on for more than an hour, with periods of 'retreat' to safe places. I kept returning to the 'dangerous' spots, enjoying the thrill of exposing my nudity. It is amazing how the risk of being caught can drive you completely wild. By the way, when I later observed the behavior of passers-by, I concluded that the risk is in fact lower than I thought. Car drivers, even while driving slowly, are too pre- occupied with their driving. To a lesser extent, the same applies to people on bikes. Even pedestrians are predominantly looking forward. But there is of course the odd postman or paper delivery boy.
The kitchen seemed a nice place for the end game. Like the dining area it is at the back of the house and shares with it the large glass sliding doors to the garden. I could still enjoy a modest level of exposure there, but less risky, as the garden is secluded with lots of foliage and views from the street are completely blocked. I set up a digital camera in the record mode and a mirror next to it, making sure that the camera was level and focused on my rod, and adjusted the mirror to approximately the same view as the camera would have. I pressed the record button and the fun could start.
Since I bought the digital camera, I have been recording my masturbation sessions every now and then. In the beginning I was very enthusiastic about the results, but gradually I developed a love/hate relationship with this contraption. I often found the technicalities of setting it up distracting, but more important, when the recording was running, I was partly concentrating on 'making a nice movie' instead of letting myself to become fully involved the act. On the other hand, the idea of recording an orgasm has always been exciting, to such an extent that I never succeeded in making recordings of more than two minutes (the memory allows for 16!).
Now, in this particular session I was again trying to make a nice movie, very much 'directing' my movements and their sequence. One of them was to put my hands on my ass and rock my pelvis, in order to make my cock swing. The mirror told me this was indeed an exciting thing to look at. Maybe that triggered something. Although I was definitely not approaching orgasm (yet), there were two very distinct powerful jets of fluid squirting from my cock. For the moment I interpreted the fluid as pre-cum, but I have never in my life squirted pre-cum with such force. In any case, it very much enhanced the joy of this session, which ended about a minute later in the blasting orgasm I had expected after the build-up of the previous hours.
After reviewing the recording several times, which eventually led to another orgasm, I was convinced that the first two jets must have been sperm, not pre-cum. I'm very curious whether anyone has ever had such a strange experience.