Erotic Tales for the Visual Woman

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

It was my first day on the cape and it was beautiful. A bright sun had cut through the ocean chill and was pleasantly warming my skin as I sat on the deck and sipped my morning coffee. I sent out a mental thank you to my friend Jill, who had offered to let me stay at her summer home for a few weeks while I finished work on my book project. She and I had been roommates in college; after which she got married and had kids and I dated my computer and lived with my writing. My main social outlet was through the lives of my characters. I promised myself that that would change as soon as I got this book turned over to the editors. Jill’s deck faced the ocean, but I could hear car doors closing and motors starting from the front of the house. It was midweek and those who worked in the city were rushing to their cars to get in line on the freeway on-ramp. The deck side view was quite spectacular with a sweeping vista that included a view of the cape where it curves out to sea and a wide expans

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

I paused at the doorway and looking in the bedroom. There Jen was, engrossed in her laptop – and she was naked. She was in bed, lying on her back with the laptop screen propped against her upraised legs. No matter how many times I’ve seen her, each time was fresh and new … and each made my heart beat faster. My eyes traveled along her long, slender legs (I really owe the stairmaster, I thought) and paused for some time at the curve of her delightful bottom. My eyes then darted to her exposed and erect nipple. I find myself licking my lips and leaning forward as my eyes linger there. “What’cha doing”, I asked stepping into the room. “Reading some delightful fantasy” she responded. I tossed my hat onto a chair in the corner and went to her side. “What’s it about?” I asked. “Oh, just some guy who likes being naked for me on the beach” she nonchalantly replied. I sat down on the edge of the bed and inhaled her aroma. “I can tell it excites you” I said, “and I love your perfume

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