Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
From: redragon@interserv.com
Subject: The Handjob (MF, mast)
Date: 13 Oct 1995 21:59:45 GMT

				Edith

	Until four months ago, I shared the attitude of many other men
concerning the handjob. It was something to settle for when "real" sex
wasn't possible for one reason or another. My opinion has drastically
changed, thanks to Edith.

	Edith is a nurse and a neighbor. One Tuesday she dropped in to
ask me for some help with her insurance claim. Tuesday is my day off
from my job as a claims adjuster. I had just gotten up, so all I had
on was a short bathrobe. Edith and I sat on the sofa going over her
papers. Her thigh was pressing against mine and the smell of her
recently shampooed hair was driving me up the wall. Before long I had
an erection, which I tried to conceal under the papers on my lap, but
I didn't fool Edith even a little.

	The next thing I knew she was gathering up her insurance forms
and saying, "Look, I don't see how you can concentrate on my problems
in that condition, so let's take care of yours first." She took my
hand and led me into the kitchen, where she unbelted my robe and
whisked it off me. I could feel my face getting hot and red as I stood
there nude, my erection angled up, in front of my gorgeous neighbor.

	She told me to lie on my back on the floor with my hands
locked behind my head and my legs folded Indian-style. I obeyed
instantly, because I didn't want to blow what I thought was my first
opportunity to screw Edith, something I'd been dying to do ever since
I first met her three years before.

	Edith said, "I don't want you to move, okay?" She began
searching the kitchen cabinets until she found a bottle of corn oil.
Then she knelt on the floor by my hip and sat back on her heels. She
filled her hand with oil and began rubbing my belly and thighs with
both hands. Almost automatically I reached out and touched her thigh,
which was covered by tight blue jeans she wore. She also wore a tight
white t-shirt and no bra, so she looked delicious.

	Instantly Edith took her hands off me and said, "Keep that
position and don't touch me again." She was very serious, so I clasped
my hands behind my head once again. Then she resumed her oily massage,
which now included my scrotum.

	As I got more and more excited, I would wiggle my hips, trying
to bring my throbbing erection into contact with Edith's hands. Each
time I'd move even a tiny bit, she would stop whatever delightful
thing she was doing and take her hands away. Finally, at long last,
Edith filled her hand with oil once again and curled her fingers
around my now-purple shaft. I couldn't help gasping when she touched
my cock for the first time. She used one hand or two hands, a tight
grip or loose grip, rapid strokes or slow strokes, even one-way
strokes - just upward or just down. Whenever I was close to the brink,
Edith would stop in the nick of time.

	After about an hour, I was so close I could taste it, so I
thrust just once in an effort to gain from Edith's hands that tiny bit
of extra friction I needed to open fire. Edith immediately stopped
everything and glared at me, saying, "Look, I want you to keep
perfectly still so if you try that again I'll walk out and leave you
like this." Then she resumed the sweet torture for another hour,
during which I nearly went out of my mind.

	Finally she refilled her right hand with oil, gripped my cock
and began purposeful, regular, medium-rate strokes. My mind raced. Was
this going to be it? Was she going to let me squirt? Or was she going
to stop me again at the brink? I had mixed feelings, or course. I
desperately wanted to come off, but I hated to have our scene come to
and end. The choice wasn't mine to make, of course. Edith was in
complete charge, and it soon became evident that she was going to let
me get off this time.

	When I ejaculated it was with a power that scared me. It was
truly brain-busting and seemed to last for many minutes. Edith must
have been impressed by my orgasm, because I could hear her
exclamations as I was shooting. "Wow!" "Oooh!" "Oh my God!"

	I couldn't move when it was over. Edith's insurance forms were
forgotten. She washed her hands and asked me if she could come over
the following Tuesday. Of course I said I'd love to see her. And we've
done the same scene once a week for the past four months.

	Edith stays fully dressed, and I'm not allowed to touch her,
let alone kiss her. On two occasions I didn't get off. The first was
the time I was half out of my mind with lust for Edith, after being
teased for almost two hours. I touched her bare thigh, under her
skirt, which had ridden way up when she knelt down. I immediately
regretted doing that because Edith walked out, saying, "Well, I hope
you have more self-control next week." My begging did no good at all.
Then, just two weeks ago, I couldn't stand it anymore, so I began
rapidly thrusting my hips up and down, trying to get off. Again, Edith
took off, this time without a word, and I didn't come that day.

	I long to strip Edith, kiss her all over and make love to her,
but I know this will never happen. She won't tell me why she will only
masturbate me and why she won't let me budge an inch while she is
doing it. I even begged her to at least undress to the waist while she
is doing it, but no way. All she said was, "Look, if you don't like
what we're doing, just say so and I won't come over anymore.
Otherwise, just relax and enjoy it, all right?" To which I could only
reply, with a sigh, "All right."