The trials and tribulations of being a wanker
- 3 years ago
- 16
- 0
It’s Not Easy Being A Wanker free porn video
Obviously wanking is easy, and if I’ve got in view some girlie loveliness, spunking in my pants is easy too (not so much these days). The problem was always, finding views of loveliness. And when you do, finding ways to watch till ecstasy overcums you, without others noticing.
I’ve always wanked on fully-dressed girls, at school, work, hanging out my window, looking through my fence, out on the street in my wank-mac. I don’t need to see much which means I’ve never had to spy on girls like other voyeurs who want to see nudity or people ‘at it’. But the problem is just seeing lovely girls in normal situations, fully-dressed, sexy-dressed or skimpy-dressed, means I have to wank, and sometimes that’s not easy.
Sometimes it’s nice to be noticed – girls at work soon began to realise that when girlie loveliness was on display, Wanker got his intense staring eyes on Her, unable to look away, like he was mesmerised or something. But in public places it’s a lot more risky, specially if She’s got a boyfriend and you want to look at Her cleavage till cum is spunking into your pants but he’s in the way.
So seeing and being unseen is important, and you get a sixth sense for picking up opportunities to ogle, since they don’t come along every day and unless you get lucky views, you don’t see anything. Like a crowd of people by the riverside and suddenly I saw two girls playing tennis, in those short tennis skirts and white knickers.
Knickers I don’t see every day, or even often – I can’t see anything I want ‘on demand’ as it were, apart from when I buy magazines. So getting an opportunity to ogle while those girls whizzed around, laughing, having fun, and showing their knickers non-stop in front of a crowd of people while Wanker stood up against the wall on the bridge and filled his underpants with cum. Lovely girls to let me see that, all I need for pervert ecstasy.
You learn which places to go to where loveliness might be on display, where to stand so that when She makes you pants-spunk no-one sees your convulsions or hears your moans. You learn which street corners to stand on in your rainmac come rain or shine and girls walk by with such skimpy loveliness on display that try as you might it’s not possible to hide your contortions and whimpers of ecstasy as such massive ecstasy overcums you while they walk by.
Which are the best mag shops to go to in your dirty mac so that a lady sees you for the umpteenth time buying a stack of dirty books while a protrusion pokes out the front of your heavily-stained wank-trousers. Where to park to see bikini spunk-queens walking along to the beach causing instant ecstasy and wet pants for this wanker.
The best places to ogle piles of baregirl mags in my van as sex-queens of the night walk by and call out names and do the ‘wanker’ sign.
Seeing girls baring themselves on a screen is lovely of course, but in the early days, there was no pause live TV, no TV recording, and repeats would take years, like the Carry On films. When girls appeared on screen you often didn’t get any warning and there was no way of knowing how long they would be on there, so frantic wanking was necessary.
At least with the RSG dancers you knew they’d be on for 2 or 3 minutes, the length of the record they were dancing to, but once they’d been and gone, that was it, no repeats even to this day – just lovely memories of the times they made me cum in my pants. So when VHS tapes came out, that was a godsend, and I’ve got hours and hours and hours of TV clips with lovely girls showing.
Going to the cinema wasn’t straightforward either, cause if it was a Carry On film the place would be full of normal people, and then even though they had lots of girls in those films, you couldn’t always be sure how long they would be on screen.
At least when I discovered the adult cinemas and could go in in my rainmac I could gawp at the screen and bare girls would be on there for plenty of time to make me spunk my pants. There’d be a few other pervs dotted around in their macs or long coats, nobody sat next to anyone else so we could all get our furtive perv pleasure without worrying. What a treat to see girls walking, talking, dancing, displaying their loveliness – much closer to seeing girls for real than in our magazines. And unzipping my mac on the way out in the hope the girl on the till would see the big wet patch on my wank-trousers, which already had a mass of brown spunk-stains on them.
As a pervert wanker, when I see a magazine I have to buy it, even though only for the girl on the cover cause I know that the pics inside won’t be right for me. That’s why I ended up with a massive collection and debts up to my ears. It also meant when I was lucky enough to find a girl to worship in person (sheer fluke) I paid whatever She asked for my Worship Sessions and Her photos, even though I was piling up mountains of debt. It’s not financially easy being a wanker.
As a compulsive masturbator I was always at risk, seeing a lovely girl, specially if She’s showing, and having to drop whatever I was doing to ogle – that caused the loss of a few jobs when work was forgotten for the rest of the day. The trouble is, you can’t always ogle freely. If there’s no way to watch from a hidden spot, then even though your rainmac covers up your bulge and eventual wet patch, you’d be too obvious standing there watching.
Maybe it’s a girl standing next to a statue or near a museum or whatever, and She’s having Her photo taken - sure She’s wearing street clothes but She’s got such a lovely figure or Her skirt is short that as a compulsive masturbator I can’t stop my hand from slipping through the holes in my mac and wank-trouser pockets and onto my stiff knob for rubbing perv pleasure. I talk about these experiences in my ‘perv’s lucky views’ stories.
Quite a few times I was able to watch and go into perv ecstasy unnoticed, but there were other times when I had to move on, as people started to look at me, thinking ‘what’s that fucking dirty old man in his mac up to?’ Feeling intimidated is a real antidote for a stiff knob, so there’s no chance of ogling ecstasy then.
Even standing on the street corner in one of my best spots wasn’t risk free. I’ve got my mac and wank-trousers on so anyone looking at me is likely to be thinking ‘looks like a perv’, but most people don’t notice me. When they do I just try to look innocent, but of course if a girlie-goddess is walking along and I’m desperate to spunk in my pants watching Her – if it’s a cold night and I’ve been waiting hours for girls to walk along so I’m limp, I have to jerk at 100mph so I can spunk before She’s out of sight - then sometimes people do notice.
Once there was a bunch of ladies walking along while I was going crazy seeing this Goddess and on the point of pumping a load of spunk into my underpants and trousers, and they were aghast when they saw me, I heard them saying to each other - “omg he’s masturbating! The cheek of it!” “Fucking pervert!” “Heavens, he’s wanking himself off, watching that girl in the tiny miniskirt! I can’t believe it!”
There was nothing I could do, watching that lovely lovely girl and cumming in my pants, shuddering and moaning, knowing it was obvious what was happening to me, and the ladies were all exclaiming to each other about the dirty pervert in his dirty mac – “oh I can’t look, he’s cumming now!” “Urgh, fucking wanker, cumming into his mac!”
Fortunately the miniskirt girlie-goddess didn’t notice any of this, and I scuttled off with my soaking wet trousers and pants. But those are the really dodgy moments, when I’m too far gone and even if there’s other people around, I’ve got no choice, I need to spunk watching a lovely girl, it’s what I’ve been waiting all evening for, next to Worship Sessions this is the pinnacle of sex pleasure for me.
I don’t like it when blokes see me, but I’ve got no control at this point. There was one occasion I remember when a bloke was out with his girlfriend and he saw what I was doing and nudged Her and She saw too – I LOVED that. I LOVE girls to know I’m a wanker, specially when they see me in my dirty mac in the act of spunking in my pants ogling a girl.
Probably the number one occasion was when the girl who was making me pants-spunk noticed – told in my ‘Pervs Lucky Views’ stories. These two guys were walking past a street and one stopped to look down it. Instantly I shuffled along and round the corner saw two girls walking towards me. One I knew as a bosomy Goddess who’d made me spunk my pants several times before. She usually wore tight tops, maybe a hint of cleavage, but that was always enough to have me filling my underpants in ecstasy in seconds.
But this time She wore such a low-cut top that even normal blokes had to stop and look. I went crazy, knowing that She was only going to be in view for a couple of minutes, but from cold it was looking unlikely. Nevertheless, I jerked like a mad-man and I heard Her say under Her breath to Her friend – “look, a wanker – he’s wanking!” I heard Her friend gasp, and next minute they walked into the pub on the opposite side of the road.
I wasn’t going anywhere, and my hand stayed on my knob while I waited on the pavement opposite for an hour or so. Finally they came out the door and crossed the road heading in my direction. I didn’t have to rub, spunk just came out and soaked into my trousers and pants while I moaned under my breath. Miss Big Tits stepped up onto the pavement and carried on walking towards me until they turned onto the street and walked off to the next pub.
Not only did She know for sure I was a wanker, and a big pervert wanker who goes out on the streets in his rainmac to ogle and wank, but She knows She made me spunk in my pants. I saw Her a few times after that, always making me pants-spunk seeing Her in Her tight tops, and She was often with different friends and I heard them both laughing as Miss Big Tits told Her friend about that wanker over there who cums in his pants watching Her.
I was lucky She wasn’t bothered, and overall while it isn’t easy being a wanker, I managed to avoid trouble throughout decades of pervert girl worship. I was always in and out of the toilets at this place I worked before I went on the road, I always kept a stash of mags in my locker in the stores and maybe seeing one or two of the girls at work in their nice outfits, or day-dreaming about a girl I was worshipping , meant I had to go rub myself. Walking past the secretaries’ office with a suspicious-looking folder of dirty mags under my arm, then emerging red-faced 20 minutes later did attract attention. On one occasion I was confronted outside the toilet by a senior secretary as I came out, flushed and sweaty, and She just said “did you enjoy that?!” making me so embarrassed.
Another time I opened the toilet door, with my folder crammed with dirty mags and a pervy look on my face after cumming on pics of Miss Robin for the umpteenth time and the way was blocked by three of the secretaries, who were looking at my folder, pointing at it and whispering in each other’s ears, then saying to me “what have you been up to, you dirty boy?!” The guilt and humiliation was unbearable but, oh the joy of those girls knowing I was a wanker, I loved it.
Every time I walked past their office I looked through the window to see what they were wearing, and often that meant I had to head for the toilets for relief. I usually didn’t have the nerve to walk back past 20 minutes later but went down the back staircase. (It was in that office that the girl who drove me so nuts I had to spunk with my eyes on Her and after becoming so desperate to do that, pressed up against the wall looking through Her window. If She saw I was there She didn’t show it). It’s not easy being a wanker. But it’s lovely.
I’ve always wanked on fully-dressed girls, at school, work, hanging out my window, looking through my fence, out on the street in my wank-mac. I don’t need to see much which means I’ve never had to spy on girls like other voyeurs who want to see nudity or people ‘at it’. But the problem is just seeing lovely girls in normal situations, fully-dressed, sexy-dressed or skimpy-dressed, means I have to wank, and sometimes that’s not easy.
Sometimes it’s nice to be noticed – girls at work soon began to realise that when girlie loveliness was on display, Wanker got his intense staring eyes on Her, unable to look away, like he was mesmerised or something. But in public places it’s a lot more risky, specially if She’s got a boyfriend and you want to look at Her cleavage till cum is spunking into your pants but he’s in the way.
So seeing and being unseen is important, and you get a sixth sense for picking up opportunities to ogle, since they don’t come along every day and unless you get lucky views, you don’t see anything. Like a crowd of people by the riverside and suddenly I saw two girls playing tennis, in those short tennis skirts and white knickers.
Knickers I don’t see every day, or even often – I can’t see anything I want ‘on demand’ as it were, apart from when I buy magazines. So getting an opportunity to ogle while those girls whizzed around, laughing, having fun, and showing their knickers non-stop in front of a crowd of people while Wanker stood up against the wall on the bridge and filled his underpants with cum. Lovely girls to let me see that, all I need for pervert ecstasy.
You learn which places to go to where loveliness might be on display, where to stand so that when She makes you pants-spunk no-one sees your convulsions or hears your moans. You learn which street corners to stand on in your rainmac come rain or shine and girls walk by with such skimpy loveliness on display that try as you might it’s not possible to hide your contortions and whimpers of ecstasy as such massive ecstasy overcums you while they walk by.
Which are the best mag shops to go to in your dirty mac so that a lady sees you for the umpteenth time buying a stack of dirty books while a protrusion pokes out the front of your heavily-stained wank-trousers. Where to park to see bikini spunk-queens walking along to the beach causing instant ecstasy and wet pants for this wanker.
The best places to ogle piles of baregirl mags in my van as sex-queens of the night walk by and call out names and do the ‘wanker’ sign.
Seeing girls baring themselves on a screen is lovely of course, but in the early days, there was no pause live TV, no TV recording, and repeats would take years, like the Carry On films. When girls appeared on screen you often didn’t get any warning and there was no way of knowing how long they would be on there, so frantic wanking was necessary.
At least with the RSG dancers you knew they’d be on for 2 or 3 minutes, the length of the record they were dancing to, but once they’d been and gone, that was it, no repeats even to this day – just lovely memories of the times they made me cum in my pants. So when VHS tapes came out, that was a godsend, and I’ve got hours and hours and hours of TV clips with lovely girls showing.
Going to the cinema wasn’t straightforward either, cause if it was a Carry On film the place would be full of normal people, and then even though they had lots of girls in those films, you couldn’t always be sure how long they would be on screen.
At least when I discovered the adult cinemas and could go in in my rainmac I could gawp at the screen and bare girls would be on there for plenty of time to make me spunk my pants. There’d be a few other pervs dotted around in their macs or long coats, nobody sat next to anyone else so we could all get our furtive perv pleasure without worrying. What a treat to see girls walking, talking, dancing, displaying their loveliness – much closer to seeing girls for real than in our magazines. And unzipping my mac on the way out in the hope the girl on the till would see the big wet patch on my wank-trousers, which already had a mass of brown spunk-stains on them.
As a pervert wanker, when I see a magazine I have to buy it, even though only for the girl on the cover cause I know that the pics inside won’t be right for me. That’s why I ended up with a massive collection and debts up to my ears. It also meant when I was lucky enough to find a girl to worship in person (sheer fluke) I paid whatever She asked for my Worship Sessions and Her photos, even though I was piling up mountains of debt. It’s not financially easy being a wanker.
As a compulsive masturbator I was always at risk, seeing a lovely girl, specially if She’s showing, and having to drop whatever I was doing to ogle – that caused the loss of a few jobs when work was forgotten for the rest of the day. The trouble is, you can’t always ogle freely. If there’s no way to watch from a hidden spot, then even though your rainmac covers up your bulge and eventual wet patch, you’d be too obvious standing there watching.
Maybe it’s a girl standing next to a statue or near a museum or whatever, and She’s having Her photo taken - sure She’s wearing street clothes but She’s got such a lovely figure or Her skirt is short that as a compulsive masturbator I can’t stop my hand from slipping through the holes in my mac and wank-trouser pockets and onto my stiff knob for rubbing perv pleasure. I talk about these experiences in my ‘perv’s lucky views’ stories.
Quite a few times I was able to watch and go into perv ecstasy unnoticed, but there were other times when I had to move on, as people started to look at me, thinking ‘what’s that fucking dirty old man in his mac up to?’ Feeling intimidated is a real antidote for a stiff knob, so there’s no chance of ogling ecstasy then.
Even standing on the street corner in one of my best spots wasn’t risk free. I’ve got my mac and wank-trousers on so anyone looking at me is likely to be thinking ‘looks like a perv’, but most people don’t notice me. When they do I just try to look innocent, but of course if a girlie-goddess is walking along and I’m desperate to spunk in my pants watching Her – if it’s a cold night and I’ve been waiting hours for girls to walk along so I’m limp, I have to jerk at 100mph so I can spunk before She’s out of sight - then sometimes people do notice.
Once there was a bunch of ladies walking along while I was going crazy seeing this Goddess and on the point of pumping a load of spunk into my underpants and trousers, and they were aghast when they saw me, I heard them saying to each other - “omg he’s masturbating! The cheek of it!” “Fucking pervert!” “Heavens, he’s wanking himself off, watching that girl in the tiny miniskirt! I can’t believe it!”
There was nothing I could do, watching that lovely lovely girl and cumming in my pants, shuddering and moaning, knowing it was obvious what was happening to me, and the ladies were all exclaiming to each other about the dirty pervert in his dirty mac – “oh I can’t look, he’s cumming now!” “Urgh, fucking wanker, cumming into his mac!”
Fortunately the miniskirt girlie-goddess didn’t notice any of this, and I scuttled off with my soaking wet trousers and pants. But those are the really dodgy moments, when I’m too far gone and even if there’s other people around, I’ve got no choice, I need to spunk watching a lovely girl, it’s what I’ve been waiting all evening for, next to Worship Sessions this is the pinnacle of sex pleasure for me.
I don’t like it when blokes see me, but I’ve got no control at this point. There was one occasion I remember when a bloke was out with his girlfriend and he saw what I was doing and nudged Her and She saw too – I LOVED that. I LOVE girls to know I’m a wanker, specially when they see me in my dirty mac in the act of spunking in my pants ogling a girl.
Probably the number one occasion was when the girl who was making me pants-spunk noticed – told in my ‘Pervs Lucky Views’ stories. These two guys were walking past a street and one stopped to look down it. Instantly I shuffled along and round the corner saw two girls walking towards me. One I knew as a bosomy Goddess who’d made me spunk my pants several times before. She usually wore tight tops, maybe a hint of cleavage, but that was always enough to have me filling my underpants in ecstasy in seconds.
But this time She wore such a low-cut top that even normal blokes had to stop and look. I went crazy, knowing that She was only going to be in view for a couple of minutes, but from cold it was looking unlikely. Nevertheless, I jerked like a mad-man and I heard Her say under Her breath to Her friend – “look, a wanker – he’s wanking!” I heard Her friend gasp, and next minute they walked into the pub on the opposite side of the road.
I wasn’t going anywhere, and my hand stayed on my knob while I waited on the pavement opposite for an hour or so. Finally they came out the door and crossed the road heading in my direction. I didn’t have to rub, spunk just came out and soaked into my trousers and pants while I moaned under my breath. Miss Big Tits stepped up onto the pavement and carried on walking towards me until they turned onto the street and walked off to the next pub.
Not only did She know for sure I was a wanker, and a big pervert wanker who goes out on the streets in his rainmac to ogle and wank, but She knows She made me spunk in my pants. I saw Her a few times after that, always making me pants-spunk seeing Her in Her tight tops, and She was often with different friends and I heard them both laughing as Miss Big Tits told Her friend about that wanker over there who cums in his pants watching Her.
I was lucky She wasn’t bothered, and overall while it isn’t easy being a wanker, I managed to avoid trouble throughout decades of pervert girl worship. I was always in and out of the toilets at this place I worked before I went on the road, I always kept a stash of mags in my locker in the stores and maybe seeing one or two of the girls at work in their nice outfits, or day-dreaming about a girl I was worshipping , meant I had to go rub myself. Walking past the secretaries’ office with a suspicious-looking folder of dirty mags under my arm, then emerging red-faced 20 minutes later did attract attention. On one occasion I was confronted outside the toilet by a senior secretary as I came out, flushed and sweaty, and She just said “did you enjoy that?!” making me so embarrassed.
Another time I opened the toilet door, with my folder crammed with dirty mags and a pervy look on my face after cumming on pics of Miss Robin for the umpteenth time and the way was blocked by three of the secretaries, who were looking at my folder, pointing at it and whispering in each other’s ears, then saying to me “what have you been up to, you dirty boy?!” The guilt and humiliation was unbearable but, oh the joy of those girls knowing I was a wanker, I loved it.
Every time I walked past their office I looked through the window to see what they were wearing, and often that meant I had to head for the toilets for relief. I usually didn’t have the nerve to walk back past 20 minutes later but went down the back staircase. (It was in that office that the girl who drove me so nuts I had to spunk with my eyes on Her and after becoming so desperate to do that, pressed up against the wall looking through Her window. If She saw I was there She didn’t show it). It’s not easy being a wanker. But it’s lovely.
Vera
- 14.03.2021
- 13
- 0
Once a wanker always a wanker
- 4 years ago
- 20
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The difference between a lsquo normal rsquo man and a wanker
- 2 years ago
- 112
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