Masturbation Monday #7
I have a couple of things to say before I get to the story.
#1 Violet, DO NOT scroll down any further if you’re in a coffee shop, in fact DO NOT scroll down any further unless you are at home. This is because of the photograph prompt that goes with the story.
#2 The photograph. I’ve seen an awful lot of photographs in my life; family photos, landscapes, portraits, sexy photos, dirty photos, erotic photos, and a lot of them are really good. I’ve taken a lot of photos in my life, in all of the above categories, and some of them are really good. But every now and then a photograph appears that isn’t just good, but in every way just takes my breath away.
This is one of those photographs.
My first reaction was ‘Fu-ckin’ ‘ell!’ (In my best Eastenders accent. Photographs like this tend to bring out the London in me 🙂 ) I like cock, I like photos of cock, I think there should be more of them, but I prefer my photos to have more than just a sculpted body with a hard-on attached. Give me some context, something vaguely realistic, something I can relate to (I feel the same about photographs of female nudes) and Oh! My! God! does this photograph have that! Everything – the pose, the setting, the lighting, the edit – OMFG!
Exhibit A I think I’m in lust!
And now I’ve gotten that slightly out of my system on to the story. (And THAT Photograph!)
She waited in the outer office. She’d arrived ten minutes early for the interview and his PA had told her he was running a little late.
‘He’s in a conference call. It’s taking a bit longer than he’d scheduled for.’
‘That’s fine.’ She replied as she sat down. She’d applied for the position seeing it as a step up from her current role in the company, even though technically it was more of a sideways move but it would at least be more interesting, more of a challenge. Plus she’d get to see him more, and that alone was worth it. She’d been with the company for five years and she hadn’t seen him in the flesh until a few months ago although she had seen his photo in company brochures. They hadn’t done him justice. Even seeing him from a distance she’d been struck by his presence, the way he held himself, and even those few brief seconds had lodged in her mind. That night she’d gone home and masturbated as she imagined him fucking her, that night and almost every night since.
She flicked through a magazine as she waited, pretending to read it as she thought about him again. Thought about the fantasy she’d had since she’d found out about the job. Of him calling her into his office, late in the afternoon, of him telling his PA she could go home. Thought about him leaning against his desk, asking her what she had to offer, why she should get the job. She knew it was a cliché, but wasn’t that why things became clichés? Because they were used so often? But as an introduction to her fantasy, it worked. She would walk over to him, put a hand on his chest, struck by the sheer sense of his maleness – strength, power, control. The combination enough to send the heat flooding from her stomach down between her already weak legs, making her cunt wet. He’d wrap a hand in her hair, kiss her, crushing her mouth with his, pull her head back, kiss her throat, leaving her moaning with lust. As she stands closer to loosen his tie, she can feel his cock, hard against her, unbuttoning his shirt, running her hands across his skin, his hands on her arse pulling her against him, she feels her juices running down the inside of her thigh. All she wants is to drop to her knees, undo his belt, unzip his trousers and take him in her mouth, she closes her eyes, can see it in her mind as she waits, his head thrown back as she sucks his cock, she can almost taste him, feel him in the back of her throat as he grabs her head and fucks her mouth. She opens her eyes to find him standing in front of her. ‘I’m ready for you now.’
Click for more Masturbation Monday ( and a bigger version of the photograph!)