Chapter 2
I had to admit that I
didn't. I heard all about it. I've had it described to me and I
know from my husband what it feels like inside of me, but I never
actually watched an ejaculation.
It was their turn to
chide me.
"You mean you never
saw a boy jerk off?" I nodded no.
"Peeked in on your
brother or a cousin?" again the no nod.
"What do you think
they do spending all that time in the bathroom?
"You mean you never
gave your boyfriend a handjob? Oral sex?"
I finally broke down,
"No, no and no! I tell you. I've seen penises, but I've never
seen them ejaculate."
Wendy turned to the two
other women and proclaimed, "Girls, we have to help out our
culturally deprived sister here."
"What are you going
to do?" I asked.
"I have just the
cure for you." Wendy winked. She rummaged through her tape
collection until she found the one she was looking for.
"I got this from
a friend of mine. You can't buy this at a store," she said
as she started the new tape.
The tape started with
a scene of a man entering a room. It seemed like an oversized bathroom,
but it had a bed, chairs and a TV set. The man got undressed, sat
on the bed and picked up a magazine. Although the resolution of
the picture was not all that good, the size of the screen made it
easy to see that it was a Penthouse or Playboy or something like
that.
The man flipped through
the pictures, and started stroking his penis. We watched as he went
through the book and then flipped back to a picture he particularly
liked and accelerated his jerking. I the bed was bouncing and from
the way he was breathing, even I could tell he was close to orgasm.
Linda and Cindy were cheering him on softly, "Go. Go. Go."
At the last moment, he grabbed a basin that looked sort of like
a urinal and aimed his semen at it. We watched as spurt after spurt
landed in the bowl. Then the screen went blank.
Another man entered the
now empty room and went through pretty much the same process, except
he elected to watch a tape on the TV instead.
Dozens of men went through
this act and we soon discussed all kinds of things about the men:
the size of their penis, of course, circumcised or not, whether
it was straight or curved, the technique he used to masturbate,
how fast it took him to come, how far he shot it, and how long he
kept coming. We had Wendy rewind a couple of time so we could watch
some of the better performances over and over.
I had to ask, "Wendy,
this tape is fantastic. Where did you ever get it?"
"A friend of mine
gave it to me. She works for a medical center, and this is the room
where they collect the sperm samples."
We watched a couple of
more men "do their thing" when Wendy announced, "Here's
a good one. This guy is a hottie. Look at that penis!"
We all agreed as we looked
at the penis filling the entire screen. It wasn't the biggest penis
we had seen that evening, but it was well formed and flushed with
just the right amount of red.
"This guy knows
how to play with himself." Wendy announced. "Look at how
he feels it up with his fingers. See how he tickles it under the
head. Now watch this …" She paused to wait for the action
to catch up with her commentary, "see how he gently squeezes
the head to force out a drop of pre-come?" She sighed, "I
must have watched this one a thousand times. If I'm ever going to
do a man, I am going to do him this way."
I watched as the fingers
on the screen swirled the precome around the head of the penis.
He gently coated each ridge behind the head and then went back to
tickling himself; slowly milking out each drop of precome and gently
applying it all over his organ.
"It's art!"
I announced, "It's almost like a dance. Those other guys were
just pounding away. Now don't get me wrong, that's great too, but
this guy has made it an art." I knew I was right. We were already
many minutes into this guy's session and he was still teasing himself.
The other guys were in and out in this period of time.
I hummed, "This
guy has fantastic discipline. Wendy, you are right, this one is
a gem."
I couldn't take looking
at it any more. I don't know how he could take doing it any more.
Just when I thought I would burst, he started stroking. Not the
hard, pile-driving technique of so many other guys, but a slow and
sensuous fluid motion as if he were gently massaging the organ.
Every now and then he would stop to collect precome and go through
his teasing ritual again. I could hardly imagine what he was feeling,
but I did know what I was feeling and I rued that I did not have
a spare pair of panties.
He went through his act
for close to a half an hour before even picking up the tempo. When
he did, the camera then pulled back enough to show how he moved
his hips in rhythm with his pumping. It was a solo dance worthy
of any stage performance. I dared not to blink lest I lose a subtle
motion.
Slowly, but irresistibly
he increased his motion. I knew we were in the final act. So did
the person in control of the camera. She panned back further to
see his whole body and face. I wanted to see that face when he came.
I bit my lip when I saw it. Watching the other guys' faces was fun
but here I was expecting a beauty not seen there.
I was not disappointed.
I could see the purest of male pleasure in it. I am not sure if
the other women caught it. It is difficult to keep one eye on his
penis and the other eye on his face. It was, as I recall, one of
the better comes. And when it was over, we all slumped back in our
seats and sighed. Nobody spoke for minutes until a sheepish voice
spoke up and said, "Can we see that again?" I was surprised
to hear it was me.
We watched that segment
over and over until the sun came up. We finally admitted that we'd
better get some sleep and shut off the VCR. "How would you
like to have him do that for you live?" Wendy asked the group
in general. I blushed. I would. The man was my husband, Bill.
|
