Wit & Nipples šŸ’

A bedtime story…

Creeping down the corridor so as not to wake you, I tiptoe lightly over the wooden floorboards. I’m only wearing an oversized T and short white ankle socks. You had specifically told me to stay on the sofa downstairs, that your wife would know that you’d taken me home even though she was out of town.

I shouldn’t have been here at all. In your house. Not like this. But the tension between the two of us was becoming more than palpable. And it had been easy to pretend I’d been too drunk to drive home. It was always easy, to convince you.

You see, we haven’t fucked. Well not yet anyway, despite eye fucking each other each work shift, you taking me out for Friday night drinks, me always being ever so respectful of your wife. Refusing to so much as hug you for a second too long.

But I couldn’t wait. Not anymore.

The door to your room is open just a little and I see you on your side facing away from door. You’re not asleep and I see the reflection of a phone light. You’re scrolling. Taking a deep breath to steady myself I keep creeping forwards, quietly tip toeing closer and closer.

As I reach your door I can almost what you’re looking at and it takes me a few seconds to work out what it is. My stomach does a backflip and I shove a hand over my mouth to stop the audible gasp from escaping my lips. It’s me. You’ve found my…. Lit account. My heart is racing but, still, I look on and watch as you kick your duvet off with one foot, releasing your cock from beneath your boxers. In the dim light I make out a drop of precum stick to your thumb as you roll down your foreskin, changing positions so that you’re now resting against your pillows.

My breath catches in my throat and I freeze, pressing my back against the wall. I can hear my blood beating in my ears and my cheeks flush from the thrill of almost being caught. A sound plays from your phone and I strain my ears to make out what it is. My red towel video. Fuck.

I lean my head against the wall, parting my legs and quietly slide a hand under the hem of my t shirt. My finger slips easily between the folds of my pussy, sliding down and back up to my clit. I can hear your breath now, hear the bed moving to the rhythm of your hand and I try to match it with my own. Circling my clit with two fingers, the other gripping the wall for balance. I’m so fucking turned on it feels as though my hand is pointless, my body screaming out for something more.

Sliding a finger into myself I dare to sneak another look into your room, your head is leaning back against the bed rest, your phones balanced on the pile of duvet at the end of your bed. Your cock looks so beautiful in this light, so big. I slide a second finger in, stifling a moan, as I notice the way your balls move up down with the motion of your hand. I can feel myself dripping down my fingers as I curl them upwards to get to that sweet spot pushing in and out, in and out, faster and faster to your rhythm.

I can hear you rubbing faster and faster, the hot squelching noises of precum and the tight grip around your cock helping to disguise the noises I was making just outside your door. I can hardly take it and my legs part even wider. I lean the top half of my body against the wall, pressing my shoulders and back against it, pushing my hips forward, my legs entirely apart. Your breathing was becoming faster and more strained, the bed frames squeaking and I could hear a groan building in the back of your throat.

ā€œFuuu-ck…!ā€

Your primal, guttural vocals dragged me over the edge. My fingers curled again, hard, grinding up into that spot until the pressure burst. I bit down on my fist to keep from screaming as my body convulsed, squirting across the floor in hot, violent waves. It splashed against the wood, soaking my thighs, dripping down in messy streams and covering my socks while I shook and gasped silently. Knowing in that moment, watching you watch me, that I’d just come harder than I would for anyone else.

Yours truly,

A naughty little voyeur 🄰
Splendid Bean! Thank you for painting this extraordinary picture for us. Very well written!! ;)
 
Night peops.

Enjoy your bedtime story.

No sleeping without stroking for me?

Pretty please 🄺

Also thankyou to everyone who commented on the thread today. There were so many kind messages and words regarding me taking time off and not being here each and every day. I really appreciate you for getting it!

Sleep & Stroke well šŸ˜šŸ˜
 
This may be AM pics but I can paint a picture with words as well as post my nudes ;)

I’m glad you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing it… 🤭😈

This may be AM pics but I can paint a picture with words as well as post my nudes ;)

I’m glad you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing it… 🤭😈
I definitely enjoyed reading it!
 
A bedtime story…

Creeping down the corridor so as not to wake you, I tiptoe lightly over the wooden floorboards. I’m only wearing an oversized T and short white ankle socks. You had specifically told me to stay on the sofa downstairs, that your wife would know that you’d taken me home even though she was out of town.

I shouldn’t have been here at all. In your house. Not like this. But the tension between the two of us was becoming more than palpable. And it had been easy to pretend I’d been too drunk to drive home. It was always easy, to convince you.

You see, we haven’t fucked. Well not yet anyway, despite eye fucking each other each work shift, you taking me out for Friday night drinks, me always being ever so respectful of your wife. Refusing to so much as hug you for a second too long.

But I couldn’t wait. Not anymore.

The door to your room is open just a little and I see you on your side facing away from door. You’re not asleep and I see the reflection of a phone light. You’re scrolling. Taking a deep breath to steady myself I keep creeping forwards, quietly tip toeing closer and closer.

As I reach your door I can almost what you’re looking at and it takes me a few seconds to work out what it is. My stomach does a backflip and I shove a hand over my mouth to stop the audible gasp from escaping my lips. It’s me. You’ve found my…. Lit account. My heart is racing but, still, I look on and watch as you kick your duvet off with one foot, releasing your cock from beneath your boxers. In the dim light I make out a drop of precum stick to your thumb as you roll down your foreskin, changing positions so that you’re now resting against your pillows.

My breath catches in my throat and I freeze, pressing my back against the wall. I can hear my blood beating in my ears and my cheeks flush from the thrill of almost being caught. A sound plays from your phone and I strain my ears to make out what it is. My red towel video. Fuck.

I lean my head against the wall, parting my legs and quietly slide a hand under the hem of my t shirt. My finger slips easily between the folds of my pussy, sliding down and back up to my clit. I can hear your breath now, hear the bed moving to the rhythm of your hand and I try to match it with my own. Circling my clit with two fingers, the other gripping the wall for balance. I’m so fucking turned on it feels as though my hand is pointless, my body screaming out for something more.

Sliding a finger into myself I dare to sneak another look into your room, your head is leaning back against the bed rest, your phones balanced on the pile of duvet at the end of your bed. Your cock looks so beautiful in this light, so big. I slide a second finger in, stifling a moan, as I notice the way your balls move up down with the motion of your hand. I can feel myself dripping down my fingers as I curl them upwards to get to that sweet spot pushing in and out, in and out, faster and faster to your rhythm.

I can hear you rubbing faster and faster, the hot squelching noises of precum and the tight grip around your cock helping to disguise the noises I was making just outside your door. I can hardly take it and my legs part even wider. I lean the top half of my body against the wall, pressing my shoulders and back against it, pushing my hips forward, my legs entirely apart. Your breathing was becoming faster and more strained, the bed frames squeaking and I could hear a groan building in the back of your throat.

ā€œFuuu-ck…!ā€

Your primal, guttural vocals dragged me over the edge. My fingers curled again, hard, grinding up into that spot until the pressure burst. I bit down on my fist to keep from screaming as my body convulsed, squirting across the floor in hot, violent waves. It splashed against the wood, soaking my thighs, dripping down in messy streams and covering my socks while I shook and gasped silently. Knowing in that moment, watching you watch me, that I’d just come harder than I would for anyone else.

Yours truly,

A naughty little voyeur 🄰
Amazing! Thank you Bean. We appreciate you
 
Posted in: What’re You Thinking.

Right now, I’m thinking about the people I started to connect with here. I miss them, even though I know I slipped into my old pattern of pulling back the moment I felt myself letting someone too close, afraid I’d scare them away. I do that, often. Pull away that is.

Yet, time away from here, as usual, has been healing and specifically grounding in ways I didn’t expect…I’ve had more space for myself….more time for me. For jotting down stories and scraps of thoughts, for letting my mind wander without a single ounce of distraction.

And most of all, walking. Yes, walking. It might sound silly but it’s healing and getting back to it has woken something in me again. Around 16 to 18k steps a day… all before 9am, a stone and a half lighter, my routine finally back in a stable rhythm…I feel like my soul is breathing again. Not to mention the excitement in seeing my body change…changing into yet another version of me that I may enjoy even more šŸ˜.

Yet part of me misses the chaos of being here each and every day….staying up until 1 or 2 a.m., chatting, being turned on, intelligent conversations with sexually stimulating people. laughing…. waking up and checking this place first thing to see if those special few had replied. That wasn’t healthy, maybe.

Regardless.

A lot on my mind.

https://postimg.cc/HrzRqHmd
As others have said, it's all about balance. I feel like interactions here are the same as all other relationships in that the flow of energy needs to be balanced to prevent burnout. You put energy in, you need to get energy back. Sometimes the banter here is restoring and sometimes it's work. When the balance of energy exchange here is off stepping back from here and finding restoration elsewhere is necessary.

What makes your thread enjoyable (well, besides the whole "stunningly beautiful woman causing the shunting of perfusion from brain to more fun places by sharing images of her body with us" thing) is how genuine you are. You're smart, you 're sassy and bratty, you're FUN. It'd be different if you were faking it. It would feel wrong.

I like Bean. You gotta take care of her.
 
šŸ”„ šŸ”„ šŸ”„ story Bean
Thank you it had me stroking all the way to the end
Is the red towel vid still up? I tried searching, but I didn’t cum across it
 
A bedtime story…
I love these kinds of will-they-won't-they scenarios. Denial can be unbearably hot.

Also, this reminds me of just how big of a doof I have been in the past. My early self image was so trash I was notoriously bad at picking up signals. On no less than three occasions have I had girls sleep over at my house where everything was implied and exactly nothing happened because I was mortified at the idea of misreading or overstepping.
 
A bedtime story…

Creeping down the corridor so as not to wake you, I tiptoe lightly over the wooden floorboards. I’m only wearing an oversized T and short white ankle socks. You had specifically told me to stay on the sofa downstairs, that your wife would know that you’d taken me home even though she was out of town.

I shouldn’t have been here at all. In your house. Not like this. But the tension between the two of us was becoming more than palpable. And it had been easy to pretend I’d been too drunk to drive home. It was always easy, to convince you.

You see, we haven’t fucked. Well not yet anyway, despite eye fucking each other each work shift, you taking me out for Friday night drinks, me always being ever so respectful of your wife. Refusing to so much as hug you for a second too long.

But I couldn’t wait. Not anymore.

The door to your room is open just a little and I see you on your side facing away from door. You’re not asleep and I see the reflection of a phone light. You’re scrolling. Taking a deep breath to steady myself I keep creeping forwards, quietly tip toeing closer and closer.

As I reach your door I can almost what you’re looking at and it takes me a few seconds to work out what it is. My stomach does a backflip and I shove a hand over my mouth to stop the audible gasp from escaping my lips. It’s me. You’ve found my…. Lit account. My heart is racing but, still, I look on and watch as you kick your duvet off with one foot, releasing your cock from beneath your boxers. In the dim light I make out a drop of precum stick to your thumb as you roll down your foreskin, changing positions so that you’re now resting against your pillows.

My breath catches in my throat and I freeze, pressing my back against the wall. I can hear my blood beating in my ears and my cheeks flush from the thrill of almost being caught. A sound plays from your phone and I strain my ears to make out what it is. My red towel video. Fuck.

I lean my head against the wall, parting my legs and quietly slide a hand under the hem of my t shirt. My finger slips easily between the folds of my pussy, sliding down and back up to my clit. I can hear your breath now, hear the bed moving to the rhythm of your hand and I try to match it with my own. Circling my clit with two fingers, the other gripping the wall for balance. I’m so fucking turned on it feels as though my hand is pointless, my body screaming out for something more.

Sliding a finger into myself I dare to sneak another look into your room, your head is leaning back against the bed rest, your phones balanced on the pile of duvet at the end of your bed. Your cock looks so beautiful in this light, so big. I slide a second finger in, stifling a moan, as I notice the way your balls move up down with the motion of your hand. I can feel myself dripping down my fingers as I curl them upwards to get to that sweet spot pushing in and out, in and out, faster and faster to your rhythm.

I can hear you rubbing faster and faster, the hot squelching noises of precum and the tight grip around your cock helping to disguise the noises I was making just outside your door. I can hardly take it and my legs part even wider. I lean the top half of my body against the wall, pressing my shoulders and back against it, pushing my hips forward, my legs entirely apart. Your breathing was becoming faster and more strained, the bed frames squeaking and I could hear a groan building in the back of your throat.

ā€œFuuu-ck…!ā€

Your primal, guttural vocals dragged me over the edge. My fingers curled again, hard, grinding up into that spot until the pressure burst. I bit down on my fist to keep from screaming as my body convulsed, squirting across the floor in hot, violent waves. It splashed against the wood, soaking my thighs, dripping down in messy streams and covering my socks while I shook and gasped silently. Knowing in that moment, watching you watch me, that I’d just come harder than I would for anyone else.

Yours truly,

A naughty little voyeur 🄰
Well that made for a lovely Thursday night. ;)
 
A bedtime story…

Creeping down the corridor so as not to wake you, I tiptoe lightly over the wooden floorboards. I’m only wearing an oversized T and short white ankle socks. You had specifically told me to stay on the sofa downstairs, that your wife would know that you’d taken me home even though she was out of town.

I shouldn’t have been here at all. In your house. Not like this. But the tension between the two of us was becoming more than palpable. And it had been easy to pretend I’d been too drunk to drive home. It was always easy, to convince you.

You see, we haven’t fucked. Well not yet anyway, despite eye fucking each other each work shift, you taking me out for Friday night drinks, me always being ever so respectful of your wife. Refusing to so much as hug you for a second too long.

But I couldn’t wait. Not anymore.

The door to your room is open just a little and I see you on your side facing away from door. You’re not asleep and I see the reflection of a phone light. You’re scrolling. Taking a deep breath to steady myself I keep creeping forwards, quietly tip toeing closer and closer.

As I reach your door I can almost what you’re looking at and it takes me a few seconds to work out what it is. My stomach does a backflip and I shove a hand over my mouth to stop the audible gasp from escaping my lips. It’s me. You’ve found my…. Lit account. My heart is racing but, still, I look on and watch as you kick your duvet off with one foot, releasing your cock from beneath your boxers. In the dim light I make out a drop of precum stick to your thumb as you roll down your foreskin, changing positions so that you’re now resting against your pillows.

My breath catches in my throat and I freeze, pressing my back against the wall. I can hear my blood beating in my ears and my cheeks flush from the thrill of almost being caught. A sound plays from your phone and I strain my ears to make out what it is. My red towel video. Fuck.

I lean my head against the wall, parting my legs and quietly slide a hand under the hem of my t shirt. My finger slips easily between the folds of my pussy, sliding down and back up to my clit. I can hear your breath now, hear the bed moving to the rhythm of your hand and I try to match it with my own. Circling my clit with two fingers, the other gripping the wall for balance. I’m so fucking turned on it feels as though my hand is pointless, my body screaming out for something more.

Sliding a finger into myself I dare to sneak another look into your room, your head is leaning back against the bed rest, your phones balanced on the pile of duvet at the end of your bed. Your cock looks so beautiful in this light, so big. I slide a second finger in, stifling a moan, as I notice the way your balls move up down with the motion of your hand. I can feel myself dripping down my fingers as I curl them upwards to get to that sweet spot pushing in and out, in and out, faster and faster to your rhythm.

I can hear you rubbing faster and faster, the hot squelching noises of precum and the tight grip around your cock helping to disguise the noises I was making just outside your door. I can hardly take it and my legs part even wider. I lean the top half of my body against the wall, pressing my shoulders and back against it, pushing my hips forward, my legs entirely apart. Your breathing was becoming faster and more strained, the bed frames squeaking and I could hear a groan building in the back of your throat.

ā€œFuuu-ck…!ā€

Your primal, guttural vocals dragged me over the edge. My fingers curled again, hard, grinding up into that spot until the pressure burst. I bit down on my fist to keep from screaming as my body convulsed, squirting across the floor in hot, violent waves. It splashed against the wood, soaking my thighs, dripping down in messy streams and covering my socks while I shook and gasped silently. Knowing in that moment, watching you watch me, that I’d just come harder than I would for anyone else.

Yours truly,

A naughty little voyeur 🄰
OMG. Im going to have to change the bedsheets now šŸ†šŸ’¦šŸ’¦ Great and vivid imagery. Loved it.
 
A bedtime story…

Creeping down the corridor so as not to wake you, I tiptoe lightly over the wooden floorboards. I’m only wearing an oversized T and short white ankle socks. You had specifically told me to stay on the sofa downstairs, that your wife would know that you’d taken me home even though she was out of town.
Love it and had a picture in my head as I read , would love to continue this with you 😘

I shouldn’t have been here at all. In your house. Not like this. But the tension between the two of us was becoming more than palpable. And it had been easy to pretend I’d been too drunk to drive home. It was always easy, to convince you.

You see, we haven’t fucked. Well not yet anyway, despite eye fucking each other each work shift, you taking me out for Friday night drinks, me always being ever so respectful of your wife. Refusing to so much as hug you for a second too long.

But I couldn’t wait. Not anymore.

The door to your room is open just a little and I see you on your side facing away from door. You’re not asleep and I see the reflection of a phone light. You’re scrolling. Taking a deep breath to steady myself I keep creeping forwards, quietly tip toeing closer and closer.

As I reach your door I can almost what you’re looking at and it takes me a few seconds to work out what it is. My stomach does a backflip and I shove a hand over my mouth to stop the audible gasp from escaping my lips. It’s me. You’ve found my…. Lit account. My heart is racing but, still, I look on and watch as you kick your duvet off with one foot, releasing your cock from beneath your boxers. In the dim light I make out a drop of precum stick to your thumb as you roll down your foreskin, changing positions so that you’re now resting against your pillows.

My breath catches in my throat and I freeze, pressing my back against the wall. I can hear my blood beating in my ears and my cheeks flush from the thrill of almost being caught. A sound plays from your phone and I strain my ears to make out what it is. My red towel video. Fuck.

I lean my head against the wall, parting my legs and quietly slide a hand under the hem of my t shirt. My finger slips easily between the folds of my pussy, sliding down and back up to my clit. I can hear your breath now, hear the bed moving to the rhythm of your hand and I try to match it with my own. Circling my clit with two fingers, the other gripping the wall for balance. I’m so fucking turned on it feels as though my hand is pointless, my body screaming out for something more.

Sliding a finger into myself I dare to sneak another look into your room, your head is leaning back against the bed rest, your phones balanced on the pile of duvet at the end of your bed. Your cock looks so beautiful in this light, so big. I slide a second finger in, stifling a moan, as I notice the way your balls move up down with the motion of your hand. I can feel myself dripping down my fingers as I curl them upwards to get to that sweet spot pushing in and out, in and out, faster and faster to your rhythm.

I can hear you rubbing faster and faster, the hot squelching noises of precum and the tight grip around your cock helping to disguise the noises I was making just outside your door. I can hardly take it and my legs part even wider. I lean the top half of my body against the wall, pressing my shoulders and back against it, pushing my hips forward, my legs entirely apart. Your breathing was becoming faster and more strained, the bed frames squeaking and I could hear a groan building in the back of your throat.

ā€œFuuu-ck…!ā€

Your primal, guttural vocals dragged me over the edge. My fingers curled again, hard, grinding up into that spot until the pressure burst. I bit down on my fist to keep from screaming as my body convulsed, squirting across the floor in hot, violent waves. It splashed against the wood, soaking my thighs, dripping down in messy streams and covering my socks while I shook and gasped silently. Knowing in that moment, watching you watch me, that I’d just come harder than I would for anyone else.

Yours truly,

A naughty little voyeur 🄰
 
A bedtime story…

Creeping down the corridor so as not to wake you, I tiptoe lightly over the wooden floorboards. I’m only wearing an oversized T and short white ankle socks. You had specifically told me to stay on the sofa downstairs, that your wife would know that you’d taken me home even though she was out of town.

I shouldn’t have been here at all. In your house. Not like this. But the tension between the two of us was becoming more than palpable. And it had been easy to pretend I’d been too drunk to drive home. It was always easy, to convince you.

You see, we haven’t fucked. Well not yet anyway, despite eye fucking each other each work shift, you taking me out for Friday night drinks, me always being ever so respectful of your wife. Refusing to so much as hug you for a second too long.

But I couldn’t wait. Not anymore.

The door to your room is open just a little and I see you on your side facing away from door. You’re not asleep and I see the reflection of a phone light. You’re scrolling. Taking a deep breath to steady myself I keep creeping forwards, quietly tip toeing closer and closer.

As I reach your door I can almost what you’re looking at and it takes me a few seconds to work out what it is. My stomach does a backflip and I shove a hand over my mouth to stop the audible gasp from escaping my lips. It’s me. You’ve found my…. Lit account. My heart is racing but, still, I look on and watch as you kick your duvet off with one foot, releasing your cock from beneath your boxers. In the dim light I make out a drop of precum stick to your thumb as you roll down your foreskin, changing positions so that you’re now resting against your pillows.

My breath catches in my throat and I freeze, pressing my back against the wall. I can hear my blood beating in my ears and my cheeks flush from the thrill of almost being caught. A sound plays from your phone and I strain my ears to make out what it is. My red towel video. Fuck.

I lean my head against the wall, parting my legs and quietly slide a hand under the hem of my t shirt. My finger slips easily between the folds of my pussy, sliding down and back up to my clit. I can hear your breath now, hear the bed moving to the rhythm of your hand and I try to match it with my own. Circling my clit with two fingers, the other gripping the wall for balance. I’m so fucking turned on it feels as though my hand is pointless, my body screaming out for something more.

Sliding a finger into myself I dare to sneak another look into your room, your head is leaning back against the bed rest, your phones balanced on the pile of duvet at the end of your bed. Your cock looks so beautiful in this light, so big. I slide a second finger in, stifling a moan, as I notice the way your balls move up down with the motion of your hand. I can feel myself dripping down my fingers as I curl them upwards to get to that sweet spot pushing in and out, in and out, faster and faster to your rhythm.

I can hear you rubbing faster and faster, the hot squelching noises of precum and the tight grip around your cock helping to disguise the noises I was making just outside your door. I can hardly take it and my legs part even wider. I lean the top half of my body against the wall, pressing my shoulders and back against it, pushing my hips forward, my legs entirely apart. Your breathing was becoming faster and more strained, the bed frames squeaking and I could hear a groan building in the back of your throat.

ā€œFuuu-ck…!ā€

Your primal, guttural vocals dragged me over the edge. My fingers curled again, hard, grinding up into that spot until the pressure burst. I bit down on my fist to keep from screaming as my body convulsed, squirting across the floor in hot, violent waves. It splashed against the wood, soaking my thighs, dripping down in messy streams and covering my socks while I shook and gasped silently. Knowing in that moment, watching you watch me, that I’d just come harder than I would for anyone else.

Yours truly,

A naughty little voyeur 🄰
that's really hot, and sooo well written. I found myself holding my breath slightly as if I was trying not to be heard. A special talent to be able to make the reader experience this.
I really need to refer back to this again and again for some of my writing.
 
A bedtime story…

Creeping down the corridor so as not to wake you, I tiptoe lightly over the wooden floorboards. I’m only wearing an oversized T and short white ankle socks. You had specifically told me to stay on the sofa downstairs, that your wife would know that you’d taken me home even though she was out of town.

I shouldn’t have been here at all. In your house. Not like this. But the tension between the two of us was becoming more than palpable. And it had been easy to pretend I’d been too drunk to drive home. It was always easy, to convince you.

You see, we haven’t fucked. Well not yet anyway, despite eye fucking each other each work shift, you taking me out for Friday night drinks, me always being ever so respectful of your wife. Refusing to so much as hug you for a second too long.

But I couldn’t wait. Not anymore.

The door to your room is open just a little and I see you on your side facing away from door. You’re not asleep and I see the reflection of a phone light. You’re scrolling. Taking a deep breath to steady myself I keep creeping forwards, quietly tip toeing closer and closer.

As I reach your door I can almost what you’re looking at and it takes me a few seconds to work out what it is. My stomach does a backflip and I shove a hand over my mouth to stop the audible gasp from escaping my lips. It’s me. You’ve found my…. Lit account. My heart is racing but, still, I look on and watch as you kick your duvet off with one foot, releasing your cock from beneath your boxers. In the dim light I make out a drop of precum stick to your thumb as you roll down your foreskin, changing positions so that you’re now resting against your pillows.

My breath catches in my throat and I freeze, pressing my back against the wall. I can hear my blood beating in my ears and my cheeks flush from the thrill of almost being caught. A sound plays from your phone and I strain my ears to make out what it is. My red towel video. Fuck.

I lean my head against the wall, parting my legs and quietly slide a hand under the hem of my t shirt. My finger slips easily between the folds of my pussy, sliding down and back up to my clit. I can hear your breath now, hear the bed moving to the rhythm of your hand and I try to match it with my own. Circling my clit with two fingers, the other gripping the wall for balance. I’m so fucking turned on it feels as though my hand is pointless, my body screaming out for something more.

Sliding a finger into myself I dare to sneak another look into your room, your head is leaning back against the bed rest, your phones balanced on the pile of duvet at the end of your bed. Your cock looks so beautiful in this light, so big. I slide a second finger in, stifling a moan, as I notice the way your balls move up down with the motion of your hand. I can feel myself dripping down my fingers as I curl them upwards to get to that sweet spot pushing in and out, in and out, faster and faster to your rhythm.

I can hear you rubbing faster and faster, the hot squelching noises of precum and the tight grip around your cock helping to disguise the noises I was making just outside your door. I can hardly take it and my legs part even wider. I lean the top half of my body against the wall, pressing my shoulders and back against it, pushing my hips forward, my legs entirely apart. Your breathing was becoming faster and more strained, the bed frames squeaking and I could hear a groan building in the back of your throat.

ā€œFuuu-ck…!ā€

Your primal, guttural vocals dragged me over the edge. My fingers curled again, hard, grinding up into that spot until the pressure burst. I bit down on my fist to keep from screaming as my body convulsed, squirting across the floor in hot, violent waves. It splashed against the wood, soaking my thighs, dripping down in messy streams and covering my socks while I shook and gasped silently. Knowing in that moment, watching you watch me, that I’d just come harder than I would for anyone else.

Yours truly,

A naughty little voyeur 🄰
I would love the idea of you watching me whil I stroked to your videos and pictures. Watching my hand on my shaft as I slowly started. Sensually feeling it hard in my hand as I rub all the most sensitive spots and play with my precum for you.
Then gwtting in thw zone and stroking faster until I slow down and edge. You are worth holding out for and prolonging my pleasure. Until you say I can cum.
My load would be massive all over my chest and belly.
This would not the be the end as I start to rub it again and carry on until my balls are totally drained.
 
A bedtime story…

Creeping down the corridor so as not to wake you, I tiptoe lightly over the wooden floorboards. I’m only wearing an oversized T and short white ankle socks. You had specifically told me to stay on the sofa downstairs, that your wife would know that you’d taken me home even though she was out of town.

I shouldn’t have been here at all. In your house. Not like this. But the tension between the two of us was becoming more than palpable. And it had been easy to pretend I’d been too drunk to drive home. It was always easy, to convince you.

You see, we haven’t fucked. Well not yet anyway, despite eye fucking each other each work shift, you taking me out for Friday night drinks, me always being ever so respectful of your wife. Refusing to so much as hug you for a second too long.

But I couldn’t wait. Not anymore.

The door to your room is open just a little and I see you on your side facing away from door. You’re not asleep and I see the reflection of a phone light. You’re scrolling. Taking a deep breath to steady myself I keep creeping forwards, quietly tip toeing closer and closer.

As I reach your door I can almost what you’re looking at and it takes me a few seconds to work out what it is. My stomach does a backflip and I shove a hand over my mouth to stop the audible gasp from escaping my lips. It’s me. You’ve found my…. Lit account. My heart is racing but, still, I look on and watch as you kick your duvet off with one foot, releasing your cock from beneath your boxers. In the dim light I make out a drop of precum stick to your thumb as you roll down your foreskin, changing positions so that you’re now resting against your pillows.

My breath catches in my throat and I freeze, pressing my back against the wall. I can hear my blood beating in my ears and my cheeks flush from the thrill of almost being caught. A sound plays from your phone and I strain my ears to make out what it is. My red towel video. Fuck.

I lean my head against the wall, parting my legs and quietly slide a hand under the hem of my t shirt. My finger slips easily between the folds of my pussy, sliding down and back up to my clit. I can hear your breath now, hear the bed moving to the rhythm of your hand and I try to match it with my own. Circling my clit with two fingers, the other gripping the wall for balance. I’m so fucking turned on it feels as though my hand is pointless, my body screaming out for something more.

Sliding a finger into myself I dare to sneak another look into your room, your head is leaning back against the bed rest, your phones balanced on the pile of duvet at the end of your bed. Your cock looks so beautiful in this light, so big. I slide a second finger in, stifling a moan, as I notice the way your balls move up down with the motion of your hand. I can feel myself dripping down my fingers as I curl them upwards to get to that sweet spot pushing in and out, in and out, faster and faster to your rhythm.

I can hear you rubbing faster and faster, the hot squelching noises of precum and the tight grip around your cock helping to disguise the noises I was making just outside your door. I can hardly take it and my legs part even wider. I lean the top half of my body against the wall, pressing my shoulders and back against it, pushing my hips forward, my legs entirely apart. Your breathing was becoming faster and more strained, the bed frames squeaking and I could hear a groan building in the back of your throat.

ā€œFuuu-ck…!ā€

Your primal, guttural vocals dragged me over the edge. My fingers curled again, hard, grinding up into that spot until the pressure burst. I bit down on my fist to keep from screaming as my body convulsed, squirting across the floor in hot, violent waves. It splashed against the wood, soaking my thighs, dripping down in messy streams and covering my socks while I shook and gasped silently. Knowing in that moment, watching you watch me, that I’d just come harder than I would for anyone else.

Yours truly,

A naughty little voyeur 🄰
Once again your writing entices things out of me, that I can't help but smirk about. I loved reading your story. Everything you write is so well written, cannot get enough of it.

Still hopeful we will have more DM'd conversation, because I still want to know you better and better.

Adore you Squirtle.
 
Thankyou Chas! šŸ˜

I always tell people the same thing if they ask about weight loss…walking is going to be your best friend. It’s so healing and helps with so much more than just the physical side! I think I’ve mentioned here before that I have PCOS, so my metabolism is all over the place and my hormones are super imbalanced. (Being a woman is fucking fantastic at times 🄲 ) My weight fluctuates like crazy, which means I have to put in a little extra work compared to some. But it sometimes means bigger boobs for half the year, and well… I’m not
I've struggled in the opposite direction since puberty, my metabolism is just... aggressive. I can't keep weight on if i take it remotely easy. It made me very self conscious for a long time until I found ways to keep it through exercise. It works both ways like that, exercise to lose it, exercise to keep it. There's an equilibrium in there for everybody, and it does not have to mean skinny or fat, just something that feels like you. Some of the worst patterns you can fall in is looking at the world and setting a goal like "I want to look like that person". Spoiler: you can't, ever.

I mostly walk everywhere (thank you walkable hilly city), but the most useful stuff for me has been a rowing machine (water rower) and keeping my yoga/martial arts routine. I did Wing Chun for a decade and it basically saved my self image completely in my 20s. I still keep at the basic exercises if anything just to have an excuse to move - Calisthenics with punching is more fun than just calisthenics.

That excuse can be the hardest part, especially if you have any kind of ailment that makes you just walk around hurting all the time, but there is such a thing as good pain and bad pain. I find when it's earned and self inflicted my tolerance goes up enough to nullify the negative connotations. Choosing pain is a kind of agency, right?

edit: Hoo boy am I sexy. I'm sorry to be such a dullard on here.
 
A bedtime story…

Creeping down the corridor so as not to wake you, I tiptoe lightly over the wooden floorboards. I’m only wearing an oversized T and short white ankle socks. You had specifically told me to stay on the sofa downstairs, that your wife would know that you’d taken me home even though she was out of town.

I shouldn’t have been here at all. In your house. Not like this. But the tension between the two of us was becoming more than palpable. And it had been easy to pretend I’d been too drunk to drive home. It was always easy, to convince you.

You see, we haven’t fucked. Well not yet anyway, despite eye fucking each other each work shift, you taking me out for Friday night drinks, me always being ever so respectful of your wife. Refusing to so much as hug you for a second too long.

But I couldn’t wait. Not anymore.

The door to your room is open just a little and I see you on your side facing away from door. You’re not asleep and I see the reflection of a phone light. You’re scrolling. Taking a deep breath to steady myself I keep creeping forwards, quietly tip toeing closer and closer.

As I reach your door I can almost what you’re looking at and it takes me a few seconds to work out what it is. My stomach does a backflip and I shove a hand over my mouth to stop the audible gasp from escaping my lips. It’s me. You’ve found my…. Lit account. My heart is racing but, still, I look on and watch as you kick your duvet off with one foot, releasing your cock from beneath your boxers. In the dim light I make out a drop of precum stick to your thumb as you roll down your foreskin, changing positions so that you’re now resting against your pillows.

My breath catches in my throat and I freeze, pressing my back against the wall. I can hear my blood beating in my ears and my cheeks flush from the thrill of almost being caught. A sound plays from your phone and I strain my ears to make out what it is. My red towel video. Fuck.

I lean my head against the wall, parting my legs and quietly slide a hand under the hem of my t shirt. My finger slips easily between the folds of my pussy, sliding down and back up to my clit. I can hear your breath now, hear the bed moving to the rhythm of your hand and I try to match it with my own. Circling my clit with two fingers, the other gripping the wall for balance. I’m so fucking turned on it feels as though my hand is pointless, my body screaming out for something more.

Sliding a finger into myself I dare to sneak another look into your room, your head is leaning back against the bed rest, your phones balanced on the pile of duvet at the end of your bed. Your cock looks so beautiful in this light, so big. I slide a second finger in, stifling a moan, as I notice the way your balls move up down with the motion of your hand. I can feel myself dripping down my fingers as I curl them upwards to get to that sweet spot pushing in and out, in and out, faster and faster to your rhythm.

I can hear you rubbing faster and faster, the hot squelching noises of precum and the tight grip around your cock helping to disguise the noises I was making just outside your door. I can hardly take it and my legs part even wider. I lean the top half of my body against the wall, pressing my shoulders and back against it, pushing my hips forward, my legs entirely apart. Your breathing was becoming faster and more strained, the bed frames squeaking and I could hear a groan building in the back of your throat.

ā€œFuuu-ck…!ā€

Your primal, guttural vocals dragged me over the edge. My fingers curled again, hard, grinding up into that spot until the pressure burst. I bit down on my fist to keep from screaming as my body convulsed, squirting across the floor in hot, violent waves. It splashed against the wood, soaking my thighs, dripping down in messy streams and covering my socks while I shook and gasped silently. Knowing in that moment, watching you watch me, that I’d just come harder than I would for anyone else.

Yours truly,

A naughty little voyeur 🄰
An eloquent word mistress šŸ¤“šŸ˜
 
A bedtime story…

Creeping down the corridor so as not to wake you, I tiptoe lightly over the wooden floorboards. I’m only wearing an oversized T and short white ankle socks. You had specifically told me to stay on the sofa downstairs, that your wife would know that you’d taken me home even though she was out of town.

I shouldn’t have been here at all. In your house. Not like this. But the tension between the two of us was becoming more than palpable. And it had been easy to pretend I’d been too drunk to drive home. It was always easy, to convince you.

You see, we haven’t fucked. Well not yet anyway, despite eye fucking each other each work shift, you taking me out for Friday night drinks, me always being ever so respectful of your wife. Refusing to so much as hug you for a second too long.

But I couldn’t wait. Not anymore.

The door to your room is open just a little and I see you on your side facing away from door. You’re not asleep and I see the reflection of a phone light. You’re scrolling. Taking a deep breath to steady myself I keep creeping forwards, quietly tip toeing closer and closer.

As I reach your door I can almost what you’re looking at and it takes me a few seconds to work out what it is. My stomach does a backflip and I shove a hand over my mouth to stop the audible gasp from escaping my lips. It’s me. You’ve found my…. Lit account. My heart is racing but, still, I look on and watch as you kick your duvet off with one foot, releasing your cock from beneath your boxers. In the dim light I make out a drop of precum stick to your thumb as you roll down your foreskin, changing positions so that you’re now resting against your pillows.

My breath catches in my throat and I freeze, pressing my back against the wall. I can hear my blood beating in my ears and my cheeks flush from the thrill of almost being caught. A sound plays from your phone and I strain my ears to make out what it is. My red towel video. Fuck.

I lean my head against the wall, parting my legs and quietly slide a hand under the hem of my t shirt. My finger slips easily between the folds of my pussy, sliding down and back up to my clit. I can hear your breath now, hear the bed moving to the rhythm of your hand and I try to match it with my own. Circling my clit with two fingers, the other gripping the wall for balance. I’m so fucking turned on it feels as though my hand is pointless, my body screaming out for something more.

Sliding a finger into myself I dare to sneak another look into your room, your head is leaning back against the bed rest, your phones balanced on the pile of duvet at the end of your bed. Your cock looks so beautiful in this light, so big. I slide a second finger in, stifling a moan, as I notice the way your balls move up down with the motion of your hand. I can feel myself dripping down my fingers as I curl them upwards to get to that sweet spot pushing in and out, in and out, faster and faster to your rhythm.

I can hear you rubbing faster and faster, the hot squelching noises of precum and the tight grip around your cock helping to disguise the noises I was making just outside your door. I can hardly take it and my legs part even wider. I lean the top half of my body against the wall, pressing my shoulders and back against it, pushing my hips forward, my legs entirely apart. Your breathing was becoming faster and more strained, the bed frames squeaking and I could hear a groan building in the back of your throat.

ā€œFuuu-ck…!ā€

Your primal, guttural vocals dragged me over the edge. My fingers curled again, hard, grinding up into that spot until the pressure burst. I bit down on my fist to keep from screaming as my body convulsed, squirting across the floor in hot, violent waves. It splashed against the wood, soaking my thighs, dripping down in messy streams and covering my socks while I shook and gasped silently. Knowing in that moment, watching you watch me, that I’d just come harder than I would for anyone else.

Yours truly,

A naughty little voyeur 🄰
So hot, love thinking of you watching us jerk as we think about you. Can you imagine the ache, the hardness, as we think about you, about how you make us feel, what we'd like to do to you...
 
Hmm!
So many comments on your words and the lovely images in your mind compared to comments on how you look

Granted! It helps to picture who is spying on us in the dark.

Make sure you are having fun here. Take breaks as needed. I’m thinking ahead to the twenty year olds in the future who will come to love you as a cougar, forsaking any interest in younger women. You need to keep yourself healthy to train all those young minds to worship you … no.. love you
 
Hmm!
So many comments on your words and the lovely images in your mind compared to comments on how you look

Granted! It helps to picture who is spying on us in the dark.

Make sure you are having fun here. Take breaks as needed. I’m thinking ahead to the twenty year olds in the future who will come to love you as a cougar, forsaking any interest in younger women. You need to keep yourself healthy to train all those young minds to worship you … no.. love you
To you and everyone else who has replied!!

Out for dinner.

White wine in hand.

Shall respond lil later!
 
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