My name is Mark.
Yes I know it is a really boring name but at least people can’t abbreviate it.
I would hate to be a Stephen and be called Steve or Christopher and be called Chris.
Anyone who dares to call me ‘Marky’ gets what they deserve.
I live in a small market town in rural England, unfortunately still with both my parents. Though I have been in relationships in the past and moved out on a couple of occasions, they never worked out so here I am back at home once more. At least my parents don’t get on my case and I have time to myself when I need it.
The main reason why my relationships don’t work out is although I have been friends and more with each woman and the sex has often been really good what has always got in the way is the fact that I love playng with my own penis so much.
There, I’ve said it now. I love to masturbate. I love it when I am on my own and there is plenty of time to enjoy stroking my stiff prick. I love to feel it gradually grow in my hand, for the ache to start to build in my bollocks – which I lovingly shave until they are baby smooth – until that moment when I can watch my warm spunk shoot out of my cock-head. I love to do this in lots of different ways but my favourite is to be kneeling on the floor supported by my left hand while canlı bahis şirketleri I watch myself stroking with my right hand in front of a mirror. I put something on the floor in front of myself to catch my cum – sometimes a newspaper that is about to go in the bin, sometimes a dirty magazine that I keep behind the wardrobe and sometimes a silky pair of my Mum’s knickers from the laundry basket before I put them in the wash – the smell of them is wonderful too…
The problem with living in such a small town is that because I went to school here too, I know so many people – maybe too many? As I go shopping or – occasionally – out in the evening, everyone seems to greet me with a ‘Hello Mark’. Yes – it can be friendly but sometimes I would like to by anonymous too.
The only ones that don’t pester me are Edith and her sister Margaret. They are two retired ladies who while they do get involved in town life, also keep to themselves when they prefer to. I know them well as we used to live in a smaller house in Foster Street until my Dad got a better job and we moved to somewhere larger at the other side of the town. However, from time to time when I need someone else to talk to, I go over to number 86 Foster Street to see how the sisters are doing.
Edith is the older by four years canlı kaçak iddaa and used to work in the Post Office in the town. Margaret – who is thinner than her sister used to commute to work but I have never know what she did. I can’t count the times I have sat on the sofa in their living room holding a cup of tea or on a cane chair in the conservatory overlooking their garden.
‘So how are you today?’ – Margaret asked today – knowing that my latest breakup was over a month ago so I might be more prepared to talk about it.
For some reason, I was reluctant to talk about it and said so – she seemed content to leave it at that.
‘So no love-life at the moment? Just wanking instead?’
I was shocked. Neither of them had ever spoken like that before.
Edith took over.
‘I’m sorry for my sister – sometimes we get so caught up with our own lives. Isn’t that still the right word to describe how a young man plays with himself?’
‘I know that we’ve never spoken about such things before as we have known you since you were still at school but it seems you’ve been grown up forever now. You may have wondered why we are are both still single and living together – perhaps you sometimes wondered if we were sexually active together but that is not the case. The thing we have canlı kaçak bahis in common is that we both love to the male organ when it is erect. We both love to see men – of any age or background – naked, their hard cocks sticking out in front of them being pleasured until we see their lovely creamy sperm shoot out.’
I didn’t quite know what to say in response to this – I was momentarily stunned. Two older women who make cakes to sell in the church fair telling me what turned them on.
Margaret spoke again.
‘There we’ve told you what we enjoy and there are a number of men who visit us who know of our preferences and indulge us both. We would love you to be one of them too.’
‘We would so love to hear what you enjoy as well’.
Little by little, I opened up as I sipped my tea and nibbled a Rich Tea biscuit.
I told them how I loved to wank and how I I liked to do it. How when my parents had been away for a weekend, I had carefully removed my mother’s underwear and dressed myself up in it with my engorged penis sticking out of the top of her panties. How there was one particular chair that I could sit in with my legs sticking back under the armrests so that I felt restrained as I slowing rubbed my erection as I watched a movie of naked men displaying themselves to women – some voluntarily and some forced.
‘I can see talking about all of that has made you rather excited’, said Margaret looking at the bulge in my chinos, why don’t you just get undressed for us now so we can all enjoy it some more together?’