Erotic Tales for the Visual Woman

    I like this one, partly because it reminds me of how I was thinking about how you, the viewer, would be watching me while I climaxed.  And wanting me to do it.    And the shiver of excitement that thought gave (and still gives) me.  I also like remembering the feeling of my fist tightly clutching my cock as it pulsed, throbbed and shuddered in my climax - and how it went on and on.   And then the follow-on pleasure of sliding my cum soaked hand up and down my cock.  So smooth and warm and satisfying.       

    zelda's command  I made this post for a friend. But please indulge my posting it here too (I'm doing it on a dare).   Zelda is an artist.   She uses her camera to capture photos and videos of male nudes - often capturing live masturbation scenes.   She has an extensive portfolio of these scenes and as such I was honored when she made this comment  on my "cumming for Cassie"post  https://eroticwomanstories.blogspot.com/2022/10/cumming-for-cassie.html  " Now it’s my turn. Do it for me!". So, this one's for you, Zelda.   I took an afternoon and captured different looks to add to your collection.  

Plan B     such a beautiful  day and I'm not fornicating                    Adilia Lopes   That's my condition as well. I call a female friend  Say I'm horny as hell. she suggests a cold shower.     Crap! Not only was that unpleasant  it fails in its mission. I'm reconsidering her friendship status.   I'm left with plan B.     I hate distance. You meet the best people and they are always so far away.

I am very lucky to know a group of the most sensuous women who have become good friends.  They have formed their own "Woman's Club", which has the most awesome rights and club privileges imaginable!!  This posting is for them. Cinnamon asks me after most Forum nights "how do you feel it went"?  Truthfully I have trouble answering her because while it is always a blast and I enjoy myself immensely, it quite often leaves me sexually frustrated.  Very frustrated!  And it doesn't help that Joyce keeps asking "are you hard yet"?  I want to shout "YES I AM AND IT FEELS GREAT".  I don't say it, but I am usually hard and without immediate relief I am only pushing against air ... and no matter how I twist my body around or swing my dick back and forth, relief is not available.  I usually look like this then: And if I could I would love, love, love  to be doing this in person during our little chats.  But a club performance is not

Storytelling is an artform conveyed in many ways. My friend, Claire Williams likes to write, take photos and create imaginative worlds by altering the images and blending them with her story. She's been a guide for me early on in these writings and I was glad (in fact, eager) to help her out by modeling. Here's her story about Her PonyBoy. by Claire Lady Persephone always enjoyed the horseracing at her local racecourse, but today was something special for her. It was Lady’s Day. Thousands of ladies were packed in the grandstand, many in very fine dresses and other outfits, and excitement was rising as the moment drew near for the Ponyboy Race. In this event the horses were replaced by well built males who had to run naked pulling along their mistresses in small carts. The lady who won the race received a silver cup. Lady Persephone was keen to impress all the ladies in the grandstand, and her close friends in particular, with her new stallion. She carefully

I like to start by bouncing my limp dick in my hand and feel it gain weight as it fills with blood and starts to swell up. I’m a “grower” type so the change is rather pronounced – and exciting. If I whip my hips back and forth, my penis slaps against my thighs with a whapping sound. And that feels good too. At some point, the “swelling up” changes from making my dick larger to making it stiffer. It starts to lift itself up off my hand and point upwards. At this point there’s a disconnect between me and my dick. It feels like it is its own entity. And to a small degree, it takes over. My penis head is getting real sensitive now because it is pulled tight. So if I am lightly holding the shaft with my finger tips and swirling the head around my palm it feels like satin and it further increases its sensitivity. My dick erection will get even tighter and harder if I lightly drag my finger tips from the base of my shaft up to the head and then push back down firmly. It’s lik

One of my creative outlets is cooking. I especially like Italian style dishes. On one of those rare days when I was alone at the house I thought I could take advantage of long preparation times and prepare some pasta and cool it down for use a little later. So that it doesn't clump together after cooking, I like to drizzle a little olive oil over the top, add some seasonings and mix it by hand. Cooking isn't brain surgery so it's a chance to let your subconscious go where it will while to deal with more mundane tasks. My subconscious, as is it's style, goes to thoughts of a sexual nature. For me, sexual thoughts are like the screen saver on your computer. When my brain isn't doing heavy processing, sex thoughts just pop up. And then I tend to "pop up" as well! So there I was with my pop up sticking out and pressing against my shorts, while I'm blending oil and pasta together by hand and it was just so cool, slippery and soothing. And

I feel your gaze upon my skin as it crawls from crotch to chest and back there again. And when it finally rests at the object of its desire I stiffen from its heat. It studies every bump, wrinkle and vein as I unfold, lengthen and become hard. Standing straight up, exposed and unashamed I push against your gaze seeking relief. But for you, controlling my erection using your eyes and a few chosen words, is serious play and you work at it. Relief will come, but not against your gaze "Hanging with Cinnamon" At your invitation, I've stopped by. And as usual, you've insisted that I remove my clothes at the door. It's a little uncomfortable for me - I'm self-conscious in my nakedness, but because it's my friend "Cin" I do it anyway. We have a beverage of your choice and somehow during the next drink or two, I let you talk me into having my hands tied up over my head so that I can't move around or get away. You go into the other room and call L

Jen approached and I could see her eyes appraising my naked body. My hands were behind my back and my feet were spread wide apart. Her eyes traveled from my chest to my thighs and back up to my crotch where they settled. She had a sly grin on her face and her eyes danced with excitement. “Well, JerBear, I think you know what I want for my present, don’t you?” Without waiting for a reply, she reached over and with her left hand lifted my penis up out of the way. Her right middle finger pressed against her thumb formed an “O” and she held this up against my balls and then released her finger and flicked my balls. It made a resounding smack, even though it made me visibly flinch I was determined not to make a sound or cry out. Lisa let out a little gasp but then leaned forward so that she could see what was happening, close up. I glanced at Amy and Arielle and saw grins on both of their faces; they knew what Jen had in mind! “Oh, Mister Hard-on, you’re a tough guy, aren’t you? Well, maybe

I knelt on the pad at her direction and assumed the desired position. I knew from experience that my wait might be minutes or hours in duration – it didn’t matter. What did matter is that she had selected me to provide whatever intimate pleasure she ultimately desired. And it was that thought that kept my penis completely stiffened and on display for her periodic perusal. Her attention, while periodic in nature, was on my erection. She demanded a certain level of elevation and was sharp in her inspection methods. If she sensed a drop, she was quick to require me to provide manual stimulation under her supervision. Her goal, it seemed, was a throbbing intensity that left me pushing against the air and my heart thumping in my chest and beating in my penis.Her preparations, this time, were different. She was clearing the living room and doing something in the kitchen. The mystery was soon solved when the doorbell rang and I heard the sounds of female voices. I became very aware my exposed

A story follows, but first I have an explanation and two caveats: As some of you know, I occasionally write stories or take photos at the request of females on this site. This writing is a product of both. As we've discussed many times, there are many forms of CFNM. This is a female oriented type, so the story may not appeal to all men - it's not intended to. It was written for a female audience. There is a drink recipe in the story. I've never tried it. I prefer scotch, wine or beer. However, if anyone has tried the drink or tries it after reading the story, please report back to us. No promises are made as to how good it may or may not be. *************************************** “Yes”, she said, “it is about the control. I absolutely love getting men aroused and then having them not be able to do anything about it until/unless I give permission. It is a core element of the CFNM belief! Woman in full control.... even deciding when/if a man is allowed to fini

When I’d put on my shades, rolled out my towel and slipped out of my shorts, the intention was to let the hot sun and warm sand relax my body and revive my spirits. Both had taken a real beating over the last few days. My company had hosted a series of seminars, parties and events during an annual trade show and as an owner, I was expected to show up and participate in all of them. It had turned into a marathon of negotiations, parties and drinks and then more negotiations. Although I was beat, I still dutifully brought reading material to the beach with the hope that I’d revive enough to try and catch up. With my back to the sun, my notebooks propped open in the sand and a cool drink nearby, theoretically I could get some work done. Working against these good intentions was the sun -warming my bare buns, the breeze off the ocean keeping me at a comfortable temperature but mostly it was an attractive woman who was making her way down the sand dune – and she seemed to be heading rig