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Thursday

Posted by: SoloTouchArchive Author: admin Posted on: 15 Jun 2003 0 comments
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Thursday by Corvid (Corvid77@yahoo.com)I can't believe I forgot it was Thursday. All I remember was thinking that, hell, I didn't need to be at work so why not get in a few moments of fun while I had the house to myself that morning. It was about 10 or so, warm sunlight pouring through the south windows, and I was in a pretty perky mood. Upstairs, I peeled off my clothes, dug my slender blue probe, which sports an acorn-sized knob, out of my drawer along with the lube and composed myself on the bed. There, down there between my thighs was my prick, soft and short, flopped sideways across my scrotum. I like to start by pulling what's left of my foreskin slowly over the head of my soft cock and kind of holding it closed until my prick starts to get hard. Once the skin starts to get tight, I let go and let the thing will grow all on its own. With each pulse, I can see it get larger. On that particular day it was particularly lively, quickly throbbing and bouncing it's way to a happy erection. I can't remember exactly how things progressed that day, whether I lubed up first and just started stroking away, or if I dabbed on a bit of lube and circled my frenulum with the tip of my finger. I like a variety of things, so it could have been anything. I know at some point I got the urge for something more and rolled over on to my knees with my face on the pillow and my skinny ass up in the air. In this position I can best access my anus, poking in a little lube with my fingertip and slowly sliding the tool of choice toward the pleasure points inside. And so it went on that day, this day I forgot was Thursday. I picked up my probe. With a blob of lube on the end, I slid it slowly in, slightly pushing and pulling as I went, feeling the warm goodness of it spread out from my ass. Surely, my other hand was pulling on my well-greased cock or pulling my balls in a loving fashion. You just can't help yourself in such a position. Anyway, in and out goes the probe. My stomach muscles are relaxing and my ass hole is loosening and I'm starting to sigh and moan. With my eyes closed, I was probably imagining some young waitress in nothing but her apron having at me with a strap-on or some landscaper plying me with his garden tool. At any rate, the dual action stroking and pumping had gotten me to exactly the place I wanted to be: oblivion. It took a moment for that seal of oblivion to be broken once I heard her on the top of the stairs, probably the clack of a toilet bush clanking against the side of her bucket. What she must have seen through the bedroom door was me on top of the bed, naked and moaning, face down in the pillow, ass high, one hand pulling my dick and the other pushing and pulling enthusiastically at my asshole with the probe. I think it was her little gasp that brought me to. I blinked open an eye and, seeing Sharon standing there in sweatpants and sneakers, her bucket dangling from her hand, realized that it was Thursday, the day that she came, reliably, to clean our home. Now Sharon is a nice woman, with two boys in the Catholic high school. She bakes cookies and takes care of her family and works hard. She's attractive, plump, and approaching middle age. This day, as usual, her light red hair was hanging in her eyes. If you'd asked me what I thought she'd do in such a weird situation, I'd have said, "faint." But she just stood there, eyes agog. Our mortification must have mutual for we stared at each other for a long moment. Finally she said, "I'm so sorry, Paul, I usually try to make some noise..." I stared back at her for a moment and then in my embarrassment rolled off the far side of the bed and kneeled, the probe still hanging from my butt. "Excuse me," I offered. After a moment, she said, "I've never watched a man do that before." "Really?" I said. Did she mean jerk off or stick objects up his ass? "My husband is so shy about it." "I'm as shy as he is, I bet." I should have shooed her away and hid, but my balls ached from the load I'd worked up, plus I was strangely attracted to the plump woman who now had somewhat more intimate knowledge of my solitary sexual habits than my wife. Whenever I'd interrupted her work before, she displayed surprise in a way that made me think she liked it, giggling a little and making excuses for not being more aware. I suddenly felt I could do something for her. I pulled the probe out of my hole and dropped it on the floor: that would have been too much, I think. Then I kneeled back up on the bed and displayed my cock. Despite my embarrassment it was still fairly hard and stood straight out, pointing suggestively at Sharon. She didn't flinch. "I'll show you how I do it - come on in," I said. She said nothing but came through the door, stopping just inside the threshold where she put down the bucket. She wasn't going to come any closer. I told you, she's a nice woman. "I think most men do it this way." I took my cock in my right hand and gave it a few long slow strokes, the glans getting firmer and redder with each pull. Sharon bit her lower lip. "Sometimes I like to pull my balls." With my free hand, I grabbed my scrotum and gave my balls a little tug down while I stroked. I worked it like this for a few moments and said, "It feels so hard and tight. I love it like this. See how big it is?" I let go and poked my erection out towared Sharon. She nodded a bit, adding, "It looks like your enjoying yourself." My cock was still slick so I was able to grab its head in my palm and twist. Before long, though, my hips were thrusting involuntarily and I was slowly forcing my slippery stick through a doughnut of my thumb and forefinger. The tip, purple and shiny, curved up toward the ceiling at the end of each stroke. Sharon, staring at my labor, was leaning against the doorjamb with one hand on her belly and the other squeezing one of her big tits through her shirt. I visualized a big pink nipple as hard as a marble. Who knows what she was thinking but even if it was eternal damnation she was going to see this through. Starting to feel the first twitches at the base of my cock. I pulled hard a couple more times. "I'm going to come now. You can watch it," I gasped. Letting go of my prick, I let it stand there on its own. The thought of Sharon standing there was enough to finish the job. The first surge sent a pearly blob a yard toward Sharon, who, still pinching her tit, had her teeth buried in her lower lip. My cock bobbed and shot again, another blob like the first. One more bob and I grabbed the shaft and my balls and milked out the last bits of semen. Rolling back my head, I let out a moan. I wanted Sharon to see my pleasure. She spoke first. "That was nice." "Mmm. I think so," I replied in full agreement. "Does it hurt? It's kind of red." "It's a little sensitive now, but, no, not really." I think she started finding herself again. Reaching for her bucket, she said, "Maybe I should start working now." "Sure. I should get going too." Embarrassment was starting to get the best of me too. I picked up the towel and started to wipe myself off. Sharon backed out of the room. Looking back, it seems funny how we can lose ourselves in moments like that. I think we were prisoners of our curiosity that day. Fantasy rode over our inhibitions. And for a while, I felt like I was giving her something. But now, though, we act like it never happened when I see her. I'm left to wonder if she's gotten to see her husband jerk off yet. That, and I'm only too aware when it's Thursday.