It was late in the evening. I had taken a lot of time for my running that day, so I had decided it was going to be one of those nights where I’d have to stay up late studying for my classes.
The upstairs room was small—tiny, even, and quite bare, save for a window facing the street below, a couple of twin-sized beds (mine was the one by the window; my roommate had the one by the door), a desk beside the window, a ceiling light, a lamp, a small houseplant, and a cup full of pens and pencils. I liked sitting at this desk whenever I studied, the better to feel the cool breeze wafting in through the closed veneer blinds, as we usually kept the window screen wide open.
My roommate was out, and I was alone in the room, my athletic body aching from the efforts put forth earlier in the day. I was always doing my best to stay in shape and pursue the gift of running that was so common in my family. We were always trying to outdo each other, but I always seemed to come in last. Well, no matter. Now I was in study mode. But the soft breeze trickling in between the closed slats of the window blinds, coupled with the soft and pulsating sounds of the street below, made my mind begin to wander…
It took me a bit by surprise when I felt the familiar tension in my crotch—my cock was beginning to fill with blood. Being young and in excellent health from all my running, such occurrences were not at all uncommon. I usually took care of things at least once a day—sometimes more—during one of my two or three showers. Days could be hot in the city where I went to school, and with my athletic pursuits, I had to take extra care to bathe frequently or I would not just look like I spent a lot of time running outside, I would noticeably smell like it, too. But as I felt my body aching for another reason than just the run, I remembered I had rushed through my shower due to my urgency to study. But right now, I was having a hard time studying, in more ways than one.
Well, I thought, I need to take care of this, or nothing’s going to get done around here—as I read the same line in my textbook for the fourth or fifth time. I stretched and stood up. The soft, velvety air felt delicious as it trickled in from the window. I was standing in profile now, framed by the window, the bright lights for studying feeling like spotlights on me. As a devout Christian, I always tried to be careful never to behave scandalously, and I was a very intentional virgin, waiting and praying for a wonderful woman to come into my world someday. Well, she wasn’t here now, and my thin cotton shorts had an obvious bulge as my penis got harder and harder. In my mind, this was the place to take care of business, and might as well get to it before my roommate came home. There wasn’t much room in our tiny room, so I stayed there in profile, the window to my right, blinds closed save for the slats gently swaying from the breeze seeping through the screen. Nobody can see me like this, I assured myself.
I slowly moved my hands up toward my lips, caressing them gently. My penis only got harder. I let my hands wander down to my chest, and I squeezed my chest muscles roughly, then gently and tenderly teased the hard points of my aroused nipples through my t-shirt, which soon came off for better access. I began to get slightly wet, the anticipation building as I tugged at my waistband, slowly and tantalizingly pulling my shorts lower … lower … lower…
My erect penis sprung free and pointed upward, throbbing and dark as my shorts fell crumpled on the floor. My right hand teased the head, grabbed it, then moved to the underside, as my left hand continued to finger my nipples, alternating between the left and the right. I slowed a bit to admire my erect member in the bright lights of the small room. It was taut and full, throbbing with energy, and slightly wet at the tip. I had measured it before and knew it was above average. I longed for the day when I could finally reveal it to someone.
As these thoughts and fantasies played out in my mind, my body began to twitch slightly and my breath caught a few times, uncontrollable gasps and whimpers parting my lips as my fingers automatically took control…
The pressure built more and more until my ears were almost ringing with the intensity of the pleasure coursing through me. My penis shook, my whole body heaved, and a stream of white shot forth, followed by another, and another, and another…
I stood there on unsteady legs and, with an animalistic intensity, licked up and voraciously devoured the semen coating my now-trembling hand.
I was startled out of my trancelike state by a double-honk of a car horn just outside of my window, and the sound of a car pulling away slowly and fading into the distance.
Wait… what?? Was someone parked outside?
I quickly pulled up my shorts and threw on a bathrobe, my half-erect penis still oozing cum, and went outside into the night and hurried out onto the street below. No one was there. I looked up at my window, and to my horror, everything in the room near the window was brightly backlit, silhouettes clearly exposed by the bright lights I had been using to study only moments before. There was the outline of the side of my desk, the familiar cup with pens and pencils, and a small plant I kept nearby. But that meant…
My heart skipped a beat as I realized those weren’t the only, um, “objects” that had been so clearly on display only moments ago—moments when I could have sworn someone gave a meaningful double-honk of their horn before slowly driving off into the night.
I went back upstairs, my mind a flood of thoughts. Did I simply imagine the horn and the car? I still felt woozy from that intense orgasm, and sometimes altered mental states can make a person hear things that aren’t really there. Also, the street could sometimes be busy at night, so maybe the honking wasn’t even directed at me…
But even that last thought made me shudder a bit, as I became fully aware that there easily could have been multiple witnesses to my throes of passion, whether on the street, or through the windows of the low buildings across the street. On the other hand, there was a chance that any passers-by had not even bothered to look up toward the bright window, and the silhouette which had been so clearly framed in that window.
Somehow, not knowing if anyone witnessed my unintentional act of exposure only heightened the sense of excitement and thrill that was building inside me. Generally, I am very cautious, and would be ashamed to intentionally expose myself in any way. But, knowing I did this with a clear conscience somehow shielded me from the intense guilt I would have normally felt, had the deed been intentional.
I admit that my mind began to wander to some dark and naughty places as I stood outside my building. If that car really had been intentionally stopped right outside my window, just what was going on in that car as they watched? It didn’t take much to imagine, and the thoughts only caused my heart to pick up pace once again, enjoying the strange and naughty satisfaction that I might have brought a sort of sexual pleasure—even shared in a sexually bonding moment, perhaps—with a complete and total stranger.
I stood there in the relative silence of the night—save for the general hum of the city and my excited, ragged breathing, until a speeding car whizzed past and broke me out of my sexy daydreams.
“Well, whoever you are… I hope you enjoyed the show!” I whispered quietly into the night, as I sauntered the short distance back to the door.
The post Masturbation for One—Or Was It? appeared first on Married sex stories – erotica – marriage sex blogs.
