“Come on Jack,” she encouraged me softly. “It looks like you are ready to come. Let me see your semen shoot out.”
This gentle suggestion was all I needed to trigger my orgasm.
“Nnngh, nnnghh, here it comes, YESSSSSSSSSSSS…” I hissed.
With my eyes still transfixed on Sally’s heaving hits, my buttocks clenched, my back arched and several ropes of spunk fired from my cock. The first few of these were so powerful that they reached high up on to my chest.
“Oh my God,” Sally shrieked, “I wasn’t expecting there to be so much, or for it to shoot out so far.”
Laying back on the bed, quite literally spent, I looked up with, what I suspected, was a huge grin on my face.
“Actually,” I confessed, that was more than usual. In fact that was almost certainly the most powerful climax I’ve ever experienced.”
“Do you think that was because of me?” she wondered, blushing as she asked.
“God yes, of course,” I spluttered in reply, “that’s the most exciting thing, sexually, that’s ever happened to me… so far at least,” I concluded, with a shy smile.
“Well, I’m very pleased to hear that,” she responded, with her chest (still wonderfully on display) almost visibly puffing at the complement. “It was pretty exciting to watch too,” she confessed. “I’m so glad you let me.”
Bu then I think the enormity of what we’d just experienced started to sink in. So we rushed to get dressed, in an awkward silence.
But, as she was in the doorway, about to leave, Sally looked back. “Do you mind if I ask, but how often do you that?” she inquired shyly.
“Well, most days, I would imagine.” Then, determined to be honest, after what we’d just shared, I continued. “Actually everyday, sometimes more than once a day.”
“Crikey, I thought that might be the case. I’d heard boys liked playing with themselves. But I wasn’t sure.”
After a brief pause, Sally shocked me further. “Would it be OK if I watched you when you do this again?” Once more, blushing furiously. But, this time, she was at least able to maintain eye contact.
Expanding on her thoughts she explained, “I want to get a good sense of what boys like to do to themselves. So that, when I get a chance to do it myself, I’ll have some idea.”
“OK,” I laughed, “so you’d be viewing this as some form of tutorial?”
My confidence had been bolstered enormously by the clear delight Sally had taken in watching me masturbate. And, unless I was mistaken, the appreciation she had for my cock. Plus the interest she had in learning more about the functionality of male genitals (or cock as we were now calling it). And, seemingly, mine in particular. Even if, I guess, a large part of the appeal was the fact I was “on site”, available and as desperately inexperienced as she was.
Over the last few weeks I’d been viewing Sally, very much, as a sexually desirable young woman. In the last half hour or so, it struck me that she was probably viewing me in a similar light.
In a demonstration of this growing confidence and comfort with the situation I made another suggestion.
“Actually, if you want to get some practice in, on a real life male, you’ve only got to ask.”
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