HFO = Hands Free Orgasm.

I often wondered how this was possible, but then someone showed me just how easy it was to go hands free. As humans we have 5 senses that control the better part of our lives. Touch, taste, sound, smell, and sight. What happens when you remove one of them from the masturbation equation? Well, you adapt and figure out other ways to get the relief you desire. Orgasms are a very important part of a healthy life.

5 ways to Hands Free Orgasm relief

• Oral or penetration sex- Imagine sex without the use of your hands. The mouth, penis, and vagina are the only parts of the body allowed to be used. The use of the tongue is a powerful drug. Some master it, and others tolerate. A lot of that can be due to the way a person was raised, or fear of a unpleasant taste. Fear can keep you away from some of the greatest joys in life.
• Humping- Using an object or furniture to stimulate the genitals is one of the oldest forms of masturbation. Remember the first time you brushed against something and a rush of heat filled your body? Cool sheets on a nude body have led to many nocturnal emissions. Don’t forget the arm of the couch, or even slipping between two mattresses. There isn’t a safer sex than humping something that can’t tell all your dirty little secrets.
• Sexual Fantasies- Let your mind be your guide. This includes fantasizing, porn, and audio stimulation. Guess what else can be used? A VR is perfect for this. Plug in and unload.
• BDSM- Blind folds, dirty talk, and spanking are all part of the BDSM game. Nipple stimulation including ice, clamps, and pinching have given their fair share of hands free orgasms.
• Erotic Hypnosis- Erotic hypnosis is similar to guided meditation, where a guide leads you through the experience. One suggestion is to use pre-recorded audio to take you to your desired release.

Remember, with a little help from the imagination there are many ways to achieve a hands free orgasm.

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Define Gooner: “Gooner” is a slang term that can refer to someone who consumes excessive adult content.

All day long you sit there and stroke. Why? Because porn is all you have. You can wish with ever stroke that it’s my hand, but all you get from me is giggles. Sorry loser, I wouldn’t touch that thing even if I had on rubber gloves. Hours and hours of adult entertainment to rot your brain and keep that little thing dripping loser juice. Sometimes I wonder if you’ve ever had a woman, and then I laugh because we both know the truth. You couldn’t get laid in a whore house with a hundred taped to your head.

You don’t deserve it.

You’ll never get a real woman.

Edge – Goon – Masturbate.

Why are you a gooner? So many have different reasons, so why are you one? Is that porn addiction so strong that you can’t go a single day without it? You think about cumming more than anything else. Now ask yourself, do you deserve to achieve that orgasm? No. You’re not man enough to get orgasms daily.

Big Tits

Round Ass

Dry Humping

Did you just twitch? Your cock throbs thinking about women you can never get. None of them really was a man like you. Women want men, not chronic masturbation boys. Jack it. You know you’ve been waiting for me to allow you to touch yourself. Look down at that silly penis. Dripping precum before it’s even touched. Do you imagine that when you stroke yourself that it’s my hand? (giggles) Silly foolish boy. I warned you. I would never touch that thing. I need a real man, not a dripping jack off boy. You’ll need to go hands free and enjoy that orgasm without touch. Whispers of encouragement to cum and ruin that prolonged orgasm.

Penis

Penis

Penis

Go ahead. Touch yourself. No one else will.

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Vanessa was in a state of adulterated shock. Not only did the young novitiate masturbate, but she took her first communion by bathing in the cum of the Priests. Her body frozen in time, Vanessa did not hear the soft footsteps behind her, but she did feel a feminine hand brush through her hair. Knowing immediately who it was, she trembled slightly, fearing that she would face another round of punishment.

“Sister, do you now understand the rules? Were you told the moment you took possession of your new role that we never allow masturbation? It is a sin and a waste,” Mother Superior said. As the older woman brushed her fingers through Vanessa’s hair, she took a single strand to wrap around her finger. Giving the hair a gentle tug will be the only reminder on this subject. Mommy Dearest has nothing on Mother Superior.

“I’m sorry. I know that I broke the rule, but I was weak, and the Devil commanded me to touch myself,” Vanessa confessed.

“Satan has many forms of temptation, but if you are to survive here, you must fight them. Tonight was a glimpse of the damage that you can cause. Do not invite the beast back into the home of the Lord. Do you understand me?” Mother asked.

With a simple nod given, Vanessa understood that she would no longer dip into the waters of the Devil. If it was a sin to satisfy the needs of your body, why was it not a sin for the Priest to jack their cocks all over her face? She would not ask, but it lingered in her mind as she picked herself up from the floor. “I will clean this floor and then shower,” she whispered.

As Vanessa collected cleaning supplies, she stopped for a minute to listen to voices down the chapel corridor.

“Keep her a virgin as long as possible. The more who see her, the higher the donation to the church,” said the male voice.

“I will try, but the child is discovering her body on her own. I caught her tonight touching her pussy,” Mother Superior responded.

A grunt from the male, Vanessa could tell he was upset. What did they expect of her? First, her pussy’s touched for the first time by a doctor. After that Mother Superior came in her mouth, and well then, the Priests covered her with their seed. She might be a nun, but she was still a human being with hormones.

“Take her to the baptismal pool when she finishes cleaning. I will cleanse her, and then she will always sleep in the room with you,” he said.

“My room? Why would I allow that nosy little girl in my room? I have needs as well,” growled the older woman.

The last thing Vanessa heard was a slap to the skin, a whimper, and Mother Superior apologizing for her actions. Taking the cleaning supplies and retreating to the chapel to clean, she did not look up when the good Mother joined her.

“When done, strip off your clothes and join me in the baptismal pool. Father will cleanse, and your room will now be with me,” she said, walking away in a huff.

Vanessa’s eyes widened. All she had on was the robe she wore to the chapel earlier. It would be the second time tonight she removed that soft terry robe. Dropping the clothing to the ground, the young Nun turned, walking to the chapel’s smaller room. The church does total submersion baptisms, but usually, you wear a sheer white gown. The moment Vanessa walked into the room; she found the old Priest fully naked in the water.

“Oh, dear Lord,” she whimpered, her hand covering her mouth in shame. There are people in this world that you should never see naked. She knew that the good old Priest was one of them.

“Come, my child. Join me in the holy waters,” whispered the Priest. “Mother Superior, please join young Vanessa in the pool,” he added.

Both young and old Nun walked up the three steps, stepping into the calm waters of the baptismal pool. Vanessa was shivering the moment she submerged herself in the holy bath.

Father Johnathan held out his hands. One for each girl to accept. As they both walked forward, they knew to kneel before the holy man. As they knelt, he pushed his cock between the two, guiding their heads forward with the palm of his hands. “Take me in your mouths and take the blessings that the Lord has provided for you both,” he whispered.

“Yes, Father,” both women said in unison. They each took one side of the Father’s cock with open mouths, their tongues bathing the shaft in their saliva.

Moaning, Vanessa rolled her tongue up one side, meeting Mother Superior at the tip, both women flicking the pointed tips around the slit of his cock. Saliva poured from their mouths, floating in the blessed waters.

Panting, the good Father looked to the elder Nun, nodding for her to push Vanessa down on his cock, her throat taking the brunt of the depth. Gasping for air, Vanessa felt the first tears run down her cheeks.

“Take it, sister. You must take the blessing of Jesus down your throat. It will bless you after the sins of defiling yourself tonight,” Mother said.

Vanessa cried as she swallowed the cock, her throat stretching to take more inside. She wondered if she was wrong for touching herself. Why were the Priests from earlier not punished for soiling her face? Vanessa learned the hard way there is a hierarchy in the church, and she is at the bottom of the pool when it comes to having rights.

“All of it, Sister,” Father Johnathan said. “Do you take communion tonight?” he asked.

Gurgling, her head nodded back and forth as a warm flow of semen poured down the back of her throat. His cock spasmed, flooding the teen with an enormous amount of hot, creamy liquid.

“Do not spill it. Not a drop,” Mother Superior warned.

Guzzling cum, sister Vanessa swallowed as the elder Nun used her hand to pump the girl’s throat, feeding her the offering. Mother Superior milked the father into Vanessa’s throat until his balls hung empty and low.

As his fingers clutched the side of the pool, the older male cleared his throat, his voice husky, “Do you repent for your earlier actions? Do you want forgiveness?” he added.

As she pulled back, a thin line of saliva still connected them as one, “I do. Please, Father, I am guilty of sin and want the blessings of the Lord to cleanse my soul.”

The older Priest nodded, a smile creasing his lips, “So be it. Return to your room and do not repeat the actions.”

The post Young Novitiate Bathed For Her Sins appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

I don’t even remember the age I started discovering my body, but I know it was young. I’ve heard women mature sexually faster than men do, and I believe it with the experiences I’ve had. The only bad thing is I still live at home, and my parents think that sex is for procreation, and masturbation is a sin. I honestly believe they only had sex one time in their relationship, and that’s when they made me. What’s weird is that both of them are extremely attractive. They work out daily, indulge in personal trainers, and my mother even went away one weekend for a little minor surgery. Oddly enough, her breasts were twice the size when she returned. We never spoke of it, but there was no way you couldn’t notice such a drastic change.

When I turned eighteen, my life changed drastically. I had begun my first year of college and needed to make some extra cash. My parents paid fully for my college, but they gave nothing else. I wanted to hang out with friends, vacation, spring break, and even party, but I couldn’t ask them for more. They were paying for an Ivy League college, and I know that tapped out their finances. The only way I could work was to hide it from both of them. I promised to focus on classes, and they would handle the rest.

Frustrated, my best girlfriend suggested that I go on dates for money with older men. She was doing it and making about five grand a month. The crazy thing was that I was still a virgin, and some of these men wanted sex. Sure, they paid extra for that, but I knew nothing about sex other than what I did to myself nightly. If that wasn’t enough of fear, my father is a cop. What if he found out about what I was doing, or worse, what if he busted me. As nervous as I was, the money was just too much for me to turn down the offer.

My girlfriend Brenda set me up to meet with a client that used her frequently. Brenda told me that he was the kind of guy that loved to spoil pretty girls like us. I’ve heard about sugar daddies, but I never thought I would have one of my own. She also told me that is he likes me, he might be the only client that I will ever need. Have you ever gotten a case of all-over chills? That was the first time for me, and the excitement had me so horny.

Later that night, my pussy needed to be taken care of, and since my parents were out for the evening, I could be as loud as I wanted. I slipped into my bedroom, the door locked behind me. Within seconds all of my clothes laid in the corner of the bedroom. I closed the blinds, sneaking a peek outside before I did. Paranoia always got the best of me when I was touching myself.

My bedroom is still decorated from childhood. The stuffed animals on my bed have seen a lot of my naughty time. Oddly enough, I like to place them on the floor facing the wall each time. It’s as though they will tell on me or worse than that. Judge me for sinning against myself. I pulled back the pink-flowered spread on my bed, put every fluffy animal in the corner, and spread out on the sheets, ready to masturbate my frustrations away.

In my bedroom, there is a mirror on the wall across from my bed. For the first time, I watched as my fingers danced up and down my swollen pussy lips, gasping when they got wet without even spreading them. I almost cried out in quivers of pleasure. I could always achieve little breaths of orgasmic death. I pushed my feet to the edge of the twin bed. My pouty pink slit opened just enough to see my clit. Already swollen, the little bundle of nerves was my greatest find. I remember the first time I came. I hid in my closet for an hour crying because I thought I broke my pussy. How would I explain to my parents that I broke that part of my body if masturbation was a sin?

Dangling a finger above my pussy lips, drops of my fluid dripping from the tips like speckles of rain on my swollen mound. I always did love warm summer rain. Down and in, my slender digits gliding like a paintbrush up and down my soft folds. Only stopping to taunt my clit. A whisper of filth slipping from my lips as the circles are drawn around the tiny bundle of nerves.

“Fucking whore,” I whisper.

My lips quiver as the words of a lover spill, I press my index finger inside, stopping the moment I feel my hymen. God, I want to break it. I want to take away my virginity, but one day will I regret that? The unknown scares me enough to stop and retract my soaking wet finger. If I went deeper, would I pull back and find the sins staining my nails? I am sure I would. For a brief second, I push my candy-coated finger into my mouth and imagine the taste of blood. I’ve never thought about why a Vampire craves blood until that moment.

The ache deepening, my hand follows the warmth as it rushed down my body, slapping hard over my wet pussy lips. The reflection in the mirror tells me that I left a mark. It wasn’t the first time, but god, I want so more. My other hand tugged my erect nipples. I was pulling them from my body until the pain forces me to release them. I didn’t mean to cum, but it wasn’t an accident either. As my finger rubbed over my clit, and my other hand twisted my little buds, I screamed out in waves of pleasure as an orgasm bolted through my body with wicked strikes of painful pleasure. It physically hurt to come that hard, and yet, I’ve never experienced something so beautiful.

As I laid in bliss, thinking about what and how this escort life would be, my phone brought me back to reality. Sliding my slippery fingers over the screen, it was my best friend Brenda sent me a picture. I will never forget the moment I opened it and read the cation.

“I told my sugar daddy all about you, and he wants to arrange a date. I attached his picture so you can see him.”

I think I blacked out for a few moments. The picture was of my father, and there was no way in hell I could ever look Brenda in the face again.

The post Masturbation Memories Erotic Story appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

Let’s face it an orgasm makes everyone feel better. Even a bad one is a good one. I’ll let you in on a little secret. Every night, even if I have fucked, I masturbate myself to sleep. For me it’s natural melatonin and I can rest all night. Weird, right? Not when you are an over thinker and can’t turn off your brain. A good orgasm shuts that right off.

I often get asked about what I think about when I masturbate. If I told you that, you would be shocked. It’s not what anyone would think about me, but for me, it does the job. What about you? When you set that scene up in your head, what trips the switch? I would love to know what gets people off when they fly solo.

Have you ever thought that maybe masturbation is better than real sex? Think about it. The only person that you need to give an orgasm is yourself. It’s a selfish concept, but one that I often wonder about. I cum hard all by myself. Sometimes better than when I have to worry about pleasing a partner. Not that I can’t, but I’m greedy. I want all the orgasms for myself.

Don’t deny yourself an orgasm.

So, here’s the challenge. I want to know what you think about when you jack off. Send me all the details of your favorite little kink. The writer in me is interested, but the highly sexual Goddess really wants to know. For me it’s about making all the dreams a reality, if only for a short period of time. Maybe I will tell your story in my next book, but don’t worry, all names will be changed to protect the deviant. I believe that we all have a story to tell, so how about yours? I want all the orgasm details.

The post An orgasm a day, Keeps the doctor away appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

I love those chronic masturbating sluts. The ones who can’t think of anything else without it going back to sex and porn. I know many, but most won’t admit it. Believe me when I say this, they can’t go a day without thinking about their dick. Everyone has a particular kink, but some are being destroyed by it.

Let me tell you about CM (Yes, that is abbreviated). I’ve known him for a few years longer than he would like to say, but the truth comes out in the bank statement. CM isn’t the normal gooner. He gets nice and drunk and can’t stop himself. Without the alcohol, he is just the normal 6 figure a year businessman. Nice house, lives alone, and has a dog. Not that all that is important, but I just want to give a background that this could be anyone.

A gooner is someone who rapidly indulges in one thing not realizing the outcome until it’s too late.

I met this man in a online chatroom, and studied him before speaking. He is picky when it comes to woman. The one thing that sets him apart from the normal gooner is that he will drop you the moment you show him a nude picture. CM comes from a time where modesty was sexy and a though a woman can be a slut, he doesn’t want that to slap him in the face. No tits and ass pictures for him. Instead I give him women dressed provocatively, but respectfully. With every picture comes a shot. His favorite is Captain Morgan and Cupcake Vodka. I don’t drink so I am guessing these are pretty strong because he gets stupid quick.

The more he drinks, the more I make. Tips are a wonderful thing. He never calls, only tips. We don’t talk about the sexual act, just about how much of a loser he is doing this. The longer we talk, the more combative he becomes. Honestly, I can’t stop laughing when he’s drunk. I never say filth, but he calls me every nasty name he can think of. That’s all okay because that loser is paying me for it all.

A mindless brain dead loser marinated in alcohol.

The longest I’ve spent with CM is about 10 hours. I won’t tell you how much he spent, but most don’t make that on a 2 week paycheck. Poor guy. I almost felt bad, but then I had him pour another drink to settle down the buyers remorse. He was back the next day for more so don’t feel back for this gooner loser.

The post Mindless Gooner Addict Intoxicated By Porn appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

As the sun began to rise, I suddenly remembered why I left the blinds open the night before. Laying next to me was my latest escape. I think his name was Tom, but it could have been Ted. Honestly, I didn’t bother to remember it because I thought this one night stand would end with him leaving in the middle of the night. It wasn’t that I didn’t care for him. I’m not too fond of the early morning awkward goodbye. Something about this man made me want a little breakfast in bed.

As he slept, the outline under the sheet gave me a little hope that he would be dining in as well. His body defined underneath the now ruffled fabric, it was his midsection that caught my attention. Thick, long, and I could even see the large mushroom head of his cock. God, coffee is excellent in the morning, but cock is fantastic.

I traced my finger around his manhood, well, not touching him, but my finger moved as though I was a phantom ghost. Perched on my side, part of the sheet covering my bottom leg, it took all my self-control not to slide over and on while he slept. I was trying so hard not to be rude, but I have never been a sensible woman. Not when it came to men, at least. As much as I wanted him, I allowed this God of a man to sleep in my bed. That right, he would never know he was the first to last all night.

Rolling to my back, my hands refused to obey my mind. I brushed the tips of my fingers over my breasts. My nipples hardened almost immediately. I felt like a naughty teen who was about to get caught touching herself. What if he woke and saw me with my hands in my cookie jar? I’m honestly not shy, but I don’t know my morning lover, so do I care? Not in the slightest.

My fingers traced the pattern of a lover over my flesh, prickles of lust rising in their wake. I imagined his touch on my skin, the way he would take the remnants of the night before the lower he moved. Spreading my legs only a tiny bit, I bit my lip as my fingers teased the source of my heat. Still sleeping, my lover never moved an inch, but I felt as though he was watching me each time I closed my eyes to allow my body to escape into my bed of self-discovery.

As my breathing quickened, my fingers pushed deeper into the puddle of honey between my thighs. My own creation because of the condom wrapper from the night before lay on the nightstand. I might be reckless, but I’m not stupid.

Dipping deeper, I knew that if I was quiet, I could cum without this man even knowing, but wouldn’t it be better if it was him touching me? Too messy to have a second round with a stranger, though I wished for once that I wasn’t so scared of commitment. I was almost panting when the voice to the left of me stopped me dead in my tracks.

“Now, what do we have here this morning? Bad girl playing without me? I really should spank you for that,” he said.

The post One Night Stand With A Stranger appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

In the vast landscape of human experience, there exist realms of fascination that often elude conventional understanding. One such phenomenon that has gained considerable attention in recent years is Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response, more commonly known as ASMR. At its core, ASMR involves experiencing tingling sensations in response to specific auditory or visual stimuli, often characterized by gentle whispering. While ASMR itself is not inherently a fetish, its intimate association with whispering has led to the emergence of what some might term an ASMR whispering fetish.

The allure of ASMR whispering lies in its ability to evoke deeply personal and often intense sensory responses in individuals. For those who are drawn to it, the soft, hushed tones of a whispered voice can trigger a cascade of pleasurable sensations, ranging from tingling in the scalp and spine to a profound sense of relaxation and euphoria. It’s a phenomenon that transcends mere auditory stimulation, tapping into the intricate workings of the human mind and body.

To understand the appeal of ASMR whispering as a fetish, one must delve into the complex interplay of psychology, neurobiology, and human sexuality. From a psychological perspective, the whispered word carries with it an aura of intimacy and closeness. It invokes a sense of secrecy, as if the whispered message is meant exclusively for the ears of the listener. This feeling of being singled out, of sharing a private moment with the whisperer, can be incredibly arousing for some individuals.

Moreover, the gentle, rhythmic cadence of whispered speech has a hypnotic quality that can induce a trance-like state in receptive listeners. In this altered state of consciousness, inhibitions are lowered, and the mind becomes more open to suggestion and arousal. It’s akin to being lulled into a state of blissful surrender, where the outside world fades away, and only the whispered voice remains.

From a neurobiological standpoint, ASMR whispering triggers the release of endorphins and oxytocin, often referred to as the “feel-good” hormones. These neurotransmitters are associated with pleasure, bonding, and social connection, further enhancing the sensory experience of ASMR. As a result, individuals who are predisposed to experiencing ASMR may find themselves irresistibly drawn to the soothing whispers of another person, seeking out that intoxicating blend of relaxation and arousal.

Of course, like any fetish or sexual preference, the appeal of ASMR whispering is highly subjective and varies from person to person. For some, it may be the whispered words themselves that hold the greatest allure, imbued with layers of meaning and suggestion. For others, it may be the physical sensations elicited by the whispered sounds, as tingles cascade down the spine like a gentle caress. And for still others, it may be the visual aspect of ASMR, watching the whispered words being spoken up close, perhaps accompanied by subtle gestures and movements.

In recent years, the internet has played a pivotal role in the proliferation of ASMR content, providing a platform for creators to share their whispering talents with a global audience. ASMRtists, as they are often called, craft videos specifically designed to trigger ASMR responses in viewers, employing a wide array of techniques ranging from softly spoken words to delicate hand movements and the gentle rustling of objects.

For individuals who harbor an ASMR whispering fetish, these online communities offer a safe and welcoming space to explore their desires and connect with like-minded individuals. It’s a realm where whispered words reign supreme, where the boundaries between intimacy and arousal blur, and where the gentlest of sounds can ignite the fiercest of passions.

In conclusion, the ASMR whispering fetish represents a fascinating intersection of psychology, neurobiology, and human sexuality. It speaks to the profound power of sound and language to evoke deeply personal and intensely pleasurable responses in individuals. While the whispering voice may seem innocuous to some, for those who are drawn to it, it holds the key to a world of sensory delights and erotic possibilities.

The post Whispering Fetish; Enjoy some ASMR appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

Virgin desires: My finger curling, calling him forward, only to be met with a flat palm to halt his advances. Can you imagine my laughter from the look on your face? I can! It’s almost a pity to do what I have planned, but then again, he did call me his favorite cock tease. A girl like me has to live up to the reputation of being the biggest threat to erupting manhood. Eww, that word, so filthy. Manhood? What the hell is that? If we have to call it that name, we’re not old enough to use it, now are we?

Does he know the erotic ballet that plays in my mind right now? Of course, he doesn’t, but he is about to be the only ticket holder to a one-woman show.

I point to the chair in the dark corner of the room. It’s nothing special, but for tonight, it’s his time out chair. Tonight is all about my pleasure, not his!

“I will only say this once, so listen to me close. You’re to sit tonight out. It’s all about me this evening. You’re only here for my amusement, not your pleasure,” I said.

A nod of his head, he sits, curiosity has him bolted in place. He knows I will never allow him to touch me. I’ve told him that many times in the past. My sweet virgin pussy is not his for the taking, but tonight, he will see what he will never touch.

An imaginary Virgin.

His trousers tightening as curiosity took hold of all his common sense, the comfort level inside of him is dropping. He’s not the type of man to ever hear the word no, but then again, he’s never had a woman like me. Tugging at the tie around his neck that suddenly feels like a noose, he pulls it out, leaving the fabric to hang in a ruffled mess. His appearance was so different than when he arrived. Even the sweat beginning to grow on his forehead has me intrigued.

“Rules of the game are that you sit there, you shut up, and you watch. You are not allowed to touch yourself or me. If I ever allow my body to cover with the sins of a man, it won’t be you,” I laughed. God, I am such a bitch tonight, but that’s what happens when a man of his age tells everyone that I’m a waste of time.

He nods, his teeth now raking his bottom lip until the soft pillow is clenched between his pearly whites. He knows this might be the one time that he begs for something. A man like him never begs.

I drop the pink silk robe that covered my slender frame. Underneath the clothing chosen for the occasion. A white bra and panty set, stockings that wrap tight around my thighs, the soft lace holding them in place. Oh, and let’s not forget those heels. There spiked with a thin crust of diamonds around the toe. A girl like me looks expensive, but even his bank account can’t buy the toy that he desires.

He will never touch this virgin.

My hands are sliding over my body, touching only the places a lover should feel. My manicured nails circling the small wet spot in the center of my white panties, the look on my face that of surprise, but am I? Of course, I’m not. Tonight is a well-planned takedown of a selfish man. I tap my finger on the growing stain, my gaze moving from your tightening pants to the look of lust in his eyes. As we lock gazes, I almost feel bad for him, but he again brought this on himself.

As I blow out a deep breath, my fingers reach the thin band of my panties, pushing the slender digits inside. I gasp as my finger slides across the sweet seal to my pussy lips. I know he imagines what a virgin looks like, but I doubt I should show him, or better yet, maybe I should. I slide my hands down, pushing the fabric with them. A quick toss of the saturated silk into his lap, he is again reminded that he can’t touch. My aim is good. They land on the front of his pants, almost burning a hole through the expensive fabric. I close my legs the moment his lips begin to move in protest.

“If you continue to annoy me, I will put the robe back on and close down this show for the night. Are you certain you want that to happen?” I ask.

His head is shaking from right to left, eyes boring holes into my flesh. He’s pissed, but not enough to stop this charade.

I slowly open my legs; for the first time, a man has a view of my pristine pussy. Soft lips as bald as the day they were born, skin as pink as a newborn’s first blanket, there is something so sensual the fruit of the forbidden. My fingers are strumming up and down my lips, the skin changing colors where I touch. Once a light pink, the flesh now darkening with desires of lust-filled advances. One finger on each side, pulling the seal apart, my clit swollen without ever having the pleasure of touch.

“Fuck me,” he growled, his words low and deep.

“Sh, don’t ruin this for me,” I whisper, my nail circling my clit, the bundle of nerves beginning to swell with arousal. Pullingmy legs up now, the heels of the stilettos pressing into the crisp white sheet with the threat of ripping it. I don’t care if it’s shredded like that of a beast. My virgin pussy is now in charge of my senses. Spreading my lips farther, the seal of my innocence still in place. One little poke and all gone, but that’s a subject for another day. Tonight is all about self-pleasure. I’ve never masturbated before because all I ever heard was that it was a sin.

“Stop this shit right now,” he demanded as his hands gripped the sides of the chair, rocking back a forth like a disobedient child.

I smirked as my lips pulled to a bow as my head shook from right to left. There was no way I would stop. Not now, at least. I need to cry out for the release that my body has begged for all of my life. Leaning back, looking over as my fingers glide over my clit, touching the button that will give me the happiness I desire. Pants of lust and need fall from my lips, my juices are accumulating between my legs. Holding my hand up to show him, I can tell he’s begging for a taste as a little trickle of drool travels down his chin.

“Please,” he begged.

Again, denial as I bring my fingers to my mouth, sucking each one until there is no taste left. The virgin juices are so sweet that I feel as I have entered Willy Wonka’s confection factory and handed the golden ticket. My breathing quickening, I can’t get my fingers back to my pussy quickly enough. Rubbing, circling, my pussy now a dark shade of pink as I buck my hips against my fingers, careful not to take what I so desperately want. I need to feel a cock inside of me, ripping away my innocence and claiming my bounty as theirs. Leaning back head back and my fingers painting a delicate portrait on my lips, there is a fire building inside that might consume me and drag me to the deepest depths of lust.

His hand twitching, moving back and forth on the wooden chair, is he imagining that his cock is in hand? Yes, he is. He is involuntarily masturbating the chair. “Fucking virgin bitch. Stop this shit right now. I can’t take this any longer,” he cries.

My walls aching, I lift just as my juices spill forth in a river of my sins. Pouring from inside me like a waterfall is the remnants of my first orgasm—the fluid forming a beautiful pool beneath me. I waited for years for this moment. Every year was worth the wait.

Collecting my senses and closing my legs as the opening night’s closing act came to an end.

On my way out of the room, I laughed as his body stiffened, his eyes pleading with me for release. “You can lick the sheets clean, but that’s the only taste you will get of me tonight. Enjoy it because you will never have it again,” I said, leaving.

The post Virgin for the night, seductress forever appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

Sometimes memories from years ago can spring back up and shock you when you least expect it. That’s what happened today when a caller asked for me to tell him about a hand job.

The hand job in question was back when I still had some sort of innocence. Barely legal, well, in some states, I went on vacation with my then boyfriends parents. Just getting to go was shocking. My family isn’t the most conventional type. The trip was only 3 days, but I planned on making it the best three days ever. To this date, it might just be.

A hand job that was unforgettable.

I wasn’t new to masturbation. Sometimes I thought I was addicted to touching myself, but today, it was all about him. During the trip the two of us sat in the very back of his parents mini van. The seats high enough to block view, I knew what I was going to do before he was even hard. A tickle in my palm made me want to stroke him. Thankfully, there was a fluffy white blanket over us.

My boyfriend at the time grabbed my hand and placed in on the front of his shorts. They were thin enough to feel everything, plus he wasn’t wearing underwear. The shorts were the kind with a built in mesh covering. Back then everyone wore quicksilver boardshorts. It was a fashion statement in the surfer community. Pulling the string on the material, I reached in and pulled out his cock. God, was he shocked. His cock being stroked in the backseat of his parents car while they drove almost sent him over the edge right away. I knew how to manipulate his dick to slow him down.

He almost popped 30 seconds into stroking.

As the parents chatted and sung stupid songs, my hand pumped away on his cock. Each time my fingers slickened with precum I made sure to lean down and lick it off each one. Thankfully, they never noticed when I disappeared beneath the seat. Masturbation is normal, but not in the car. The funniest part of this whole thing was my boyfriend trying not to change his expression or moan. A few times he caught himself, but stopped the moment they looked back.

Ten minutes in, he came. Not just came, but exploded all over my hand, the blanket, and his shorts. No worries, I leaned down and licked up all the cum and swallowed the evidence. Well, except for the blanket. That we would need to figure out later. If you want to hear more about this hand job, call or chat me on niteflirt.

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