I Begin To Undress free porn video

I begin to undress. Trying to think of other things, other than sex, other than the beautiful woman standing in front of me, telling me to undress now.

"I have to be able to asses your ability to hold a pose, and I suppose that you are comfortable enough naked, when I'm not. That you won't, well, chicken out on us, on the night."

"Uh, sure, um, I just wasn't expecting to that's all."

"Well then."

I stood, sort of waiting for her to insist, or to produce a screen.

"Is there a screen?"

"Well, yes actually. Do you want me to get it?"

"No, I suppose not, not really. No need is there?"

"okay then. Are you ready?"

"Yes, um, I suppose."

But I still did nothing. I looked at her. She was extremely attractive. Maybe ten years older than me, maybe more, maybe nearer forty. But still quite stunning. Auburn hair pulled back, little or no make up, slim, tall. I couldn't really make out her legs, in her jeans, but she had a great ass, and her breasts were full and pert under her white T-shirt. As far as I could tell she had no need to wear a bra and hadn't bothered that morning. I may have thought about sex as soon as I saw her, and may have worried about getting turned on, when I was naked. This was a desperate situation. No cash, no time for even part time work. I had volunteered to donate blood, without realising it didn't pay, gone down the sperm route, without realising they required that you abstain from all forms of sex, or at least all forms of sex that involved me ejaculating. All of which meant I hadn't had a fuck, though this was not an especially unusual event, but also hadn't been able to masturbate for two weeks. I suppose I might have gone for two weeks without wanking before, but as soon as you're told you can't do it, that's all you think about. Anyway, I had sex on the brain, saw sex everywhere, was thinking of sex constantly. And felt constantly aroused. Felt like I had a constant erection. And now here I was. About to strip in front of a gorgeous older lady and be looked at. This was the moment I supposed, this was when I checked out my exhibitionist tendencies. She was still waiting. I was still waiting.

"You don't have to. Obviously. A lot of men find they can't."

"no, no it's okay. I'm sure I can."

"Okay then. Take off your clothes."

I started to undress. I pulled my trainers off by the heel, bent over to yank my socks off, dropped my jacket on the chair behind me, undid the buttons on my shirt. This is it then, here I go, I pulled the shirt out of the waist of my own jeans, took it completely off and lay it over my jacket. I'm half naked, and it's a little cold in this room. I undo the button on my trousers and unzip the fly. Nope, no reaction, fear is getting the better of arousal, nerves are beating away any thought of a hard on. I drop my trousers and step out of them, fold them on the seat of the chair. Decide to wait a while now, for no reason. I think I see her raise an eyebrow. Right, here goes. I hook two thumbs into the waistband of my boxer shorts, bend over a bit and pull them down, step out of them, toss them behind me and stand up, naked. My penis seems to have shrunk on me. My penis has reacted to this situation with a flight of its own and has more or less shrivelled to a state that can only be described as c***dlike. Even in this situation I do not think this is good, this cannot be good. I look at her, my arms by my side, my cock sinking into my pubic rug, my balls having also retreated, like I've just stepped out of a cold bath, just had a dip in a particularly cold sea. Well, too late, you're naked now, you're naked in front of this rather lovely older lady, she's seen it, she's seen you. And I feel sure she's seen it all before, as an art teacher, feel sure she has seen all sorts of cocks, every type of scrotum, and I suppose, every type of breast and vagina, all the various types of trimmed, sculpted, bare and unkempt bush. And now here's mine. For the moment less than impressive.

"okay thank you.

"all right yes."

I turn, I think that wasn't too bad, and pick up my boxers.

"Oh no, sorry, I just meant thanks for going through with it. I'll need to get into a few poses. If you can just stand naturally for a bit. Let me have a look at you."

"Ah, yep. No bother."

I stand as she looks me up and down, perhaps lingering on my genitals, perhaps I see her checking out my cock, uncircumsized if you have to know, but fresh from a shower, given a paranoid's wash that morning. Which is a pleasure I think, only an uncircumsized man knows. Stepping into a good shower, letting the water soak you, pulling back your foreskin and rubbing away any of the accumulated secretions, holding it back as you piss, as you watch the unhindered jet of piss hit the drain, and as you feel the first swelling of an erection, just the initial hint, and you wash some more, keeping your foreskin held back, and look at this, look at your cock, at its stem, at the now plump head, clean and wet, full and shiny, hard but somehow soft. And this is what I'm thinking? As I stand here naked, as she continues to look me up and down? I'm thinking of that morning's shower and the stiff prick I was playing with? The erection I gave myself and needed all my self control not to masturbate furiously until I came? And it did take some control, as it had taken control for the previous thirteen days. But there's pleasure there too I suppose, masturbating up to the point of an orgasm but not past it.

"Okay, if you could place one foot up on the chair, hold your hands behind your back."

And I look at her, and step to the chair, feeling my penis shake as I walk, feeling it hanging now, and swinging, relaxed just a bit, against my thighs. I place my left leg on the seat of the chair and hold my right wrist with my left hand, behind my back like she asked me too. And now I can feel my cock as it sways free of my legs, as it hangs against my balls, I can feel a small breeze, from somewhere, hit the underside of my scrotum, I can feel everything down there, everything registers at the moment, it's like a motion detector down there, with infra red beams and trip wires. Anyway. I sense a breeze, caressing me. And this is nice, suddenly, I am quite enjoying this, I am enjoying being looked at, am enjoying being naked, nude sorry, let's get this bit right, I am enjoying being nude and looked at, studied. And it isn't sexual, or isn't quite. Or isn't, well, a lot.

"Okay, I'm going to walk around you, if you can stay as you are, perhaps widen your stance a little. I need to see you from a variety of angles. Okay? Are you okay?"

"Sure, whatever you need."

"Okay."

She walks behind me, I take a step with my right leg, inch my left foot across the chair, further freeing my penis and testicles from contact with my legs. And still feeling that breeze, feeling it now not just on my balls, on the root of my cock, but even further down, or up. I think the pose I am in has edged apart my ass cheeks slightly, has maybe exposed my anus to the air. Which also feels quite nice. Though it occurs to me that now she is behind me it is possible that she can see this. I wonder if she can, if she is looking at me there. And I try to remember if anyone has really looked at me there, excluding my mother when she would have cleaned me up as a baby. Have they? Perhaps during a massage, perhaps when an old girlfriend had given me a back rub, and has worked her way down, as she has removed my pants, as she has taken off some of her clothes, so as not to get them oily of course, as she has pulled off my pants so she can massage my legs, my lower back, my buttocks. Yes, she would have parted them, she would have rubbed them with oil, and allowed it to drip into my crack, yes, I can feel it now, a cold drop of oil hitting my exposed anus, as she rubs, and hold my ass cheeks apart, works her way up from my thighs. Did she? She rubs the oil more thoroughly into my butt, pours on a little more, allows a finger to graze it, allows an accidental thumb to touch as she rubs elsewhere, as if to grip she then touches more forcefully, it is a touch that stays there, pressing against my tight opening. Until she says to me that she's finished. And I have a raging hard-on. And I think of regulation sex until she says what she says next. "I have finished your massage, perhaps you'd like me to pour some more oil onto my hand, perhaps you'd like me to stick a couple of fingers up your bum." "Yes." "Sorry, yes to what?"

"I'd like you to pour oil onto your fingers and stick them up my bum." "Right then." Fuck me if she didn't. I felt a slick finger against my anus, touching, prodding, teasing, rubbing it. I feel myself resisting, I feel my anus becoming tighter, clenching, and then I feel her pushing into me, I feel her inserting her finger into my bud. Then another, then she sticks her two digits into me, begins to finger fuck my arse. "Get up onto your knees." She tells me and I did. I raise by arse into the air and she reaches around to grip my stiff penis. She yanks my foreskin back without ceremony and uses the oil on this other hand to rub the engorged head of my cock as she continues to finger my anus. She quickens both movements, she fingers me and wanks me and I tell her I'm about to come and she really sort of rams her fingers deep into my rectum and holds her other hand over the tip of my penis so she can feel me coming, so she can feel the jolts of thick spunk shooting out of me. And I come, I come in buckets into her hand and over the bed and her arm and the pillow and she takes this palmful of my juice and licks it clean, and gobbles it with her own arousal as she demands I give her her own orgasm now thank you.

This is what I think of as the art teacher gazes at my back, as I feel my balls tighten again, and as, my penis relaxes some more. She faces me once again. I smile at her. She lowers her eyes again and I can't help but sneak a look at her breasts. Can't help now but notice her nipples, when I couldn't before, can't help but see they have swollen, that they are now sticking out from under her T-shirt like a pair of cold bullets. Fuck, it isn't that cold in here, despite the breeze. She's turned on by this, she's getting a little bit aroused by seeing me naked, by looking at my arse, my anus even, my penis. She looks up at me. I look back. And there is a definite if slight swelling of my own. But this is okay I think, nothing too severe, nothing overly noticeable. Her nipples continue to protrude.

"If I can get you to stand with a leg either side of the chair, and hold your hands behind your neck."

I get into this pose. Feel my balls back against my thighs, feel my penis press outwards, just slightly. Look as she walks around me again.

"Now, of course there's just me today. Do you think you'll be okay with seven or eight? Or up to twenty some evenings?"

"Well, I'm really not sure. It might be easier I think."

"Yes, maybe, the female gaze though is not something most men handle very well. You seem to be handling it very well."

I accept the compliment as she circles me, stops, again to my rear, then in front, her nipples affect me some more, I feel my penis become heavier, when she can't see me I take a downward glance. Fuck. It looks unmistakably hard. Its thick vein visible, smaller tributaries marbling across the dark skin. I sense the skin becoming taut, foreskin being pulled back, the reddened tip becoming exposed, it is no doubt fatter, thicker, longer. There can be no doubt I am getting an erection. I will it down, I think non sexual thoughts, pleading with it to calm down before she comes back around to stand in front of me. I consider stopping this, I am thinking of cutting my losses and grabbing something to cover myself with, murmuring an apology, leaving with a sheepish grin. And then she is in front of me. She looks down, I look down, we both look down and see that my penis is now in a semi-erect state, has stiffened and has risen to an angle that can offer only one explanation, this is not a relaxation, this is not a mere and variously explained filling, my penis is becoming hard. She carries on looking, walking to my side, saying nothing, offering no acknowledgment of what has happened. I look down at myself again and see further development, see my penis sticking out now horizontally in front of me, see the swollen glans appear from under my foreskin, see the pursed lips of my piss hole. And this of course arouses me further. Should it? Should the sight of my own stiffening cock get me going? Well, it does, it always does, it certainly does now, when just about anything is getting me going. As I look at it my penis trembling as it engorges, I see it shake as it rises further, as it stiffens further. The art teacher faces me again, and again she looks down, and again I follow her look and we both see my fully erect penis, I stand in front of her utterly exposed and utterly turned on, my cock is rigid, it is making me feel light headed, it makes me shake with excitement, and she carries on looking at it, at me, at my tight scrotum, exposed now, at the seam of my scrotum, at its hairs, at my equally full testicles, and these feel heavy, these feel huge with unspent cum, at the ridge on the underneath of my penis, at the hard stem and fully rounded head. I look at her as she looks at my aroused genitals, at an almost vertical eight inch erection.

"okay, now if I can get you to hold your arms out, one in front of you, one behind, and sort of crouch, and lower your head. Yes, that's it."

I work myself into this slightly awkward, slight difficult position, which gives me an unavoidable look at my erection, buried just a little now between my thighs, but no less obvious, no less hard. I feel the urge to apologise for this, to accept or acknowledge that it has happened at least, that my prick has become stiff.

"Um, listen, sorry about this." I motion to my penis.

"What? Of course, don't even think about it. It happens fairly regularly. I mean, it's an erection, men get erections, not always because of anything sexual, you have an erection. I've seen them before. Can you hold the back of the chair, yes, grip it, right. It doesn't happen a lot I don't suppose, certainly not always, but now and again we'll be drawing and we'll see our model's penis changing shape. And it's an excellent sketching exercise, as it doesn't happen often."

"yes, I suppose it would be, uh, interesting."

"I mean I know some of the girls in the class get their boyfriends, their husband to allow them to draw their penises when they are erect. I have seen some of the sketches. And some of the men, well, I suppose all of the men could draw an erect cock if they wanted to. Using a mirror."

"Yes, if they wanted. There, uh, there are men in the class then?"

"Of course. Does that bother you?"

"I'm not sure, it might if I got one of these."

"Mmm, well I can guarantee that any of the men in the class would have seen one of those innumerable times."

"Yes, not mine though."

"Well, as I said, it's an erect penis, penises become erect sometimes. Really nothing unusual, nothing to be embarrassed about."

"Sure, thanks."

Though I'm not sure what for, that fact she is treating it as nothing somehow makes it all the more arousing. Again though, what wouldn't, nothing she could say at this point, other than some sort of disparaging comment... no, not even that, even that might appeal, even that sort of sexual demeaning might open up the submissive in me.

"can I ask you something?"

How can I stop her. "Of course."

"Do you like being looked at? Do you think you have a body that deserves to be looked at?"

"Oh, well, I'm really not that vain, I mean, I might not be able to do this if I was wracked with insecurities, I mean, I think I'm okay, but nothing special."

"Uh-huh. It's just at some obvious level you're enjoying this. You have become erect after I started to study you, I am still clothed, you are not. There is a power imbalance, and, sorry, I go in for this sort of thing, it's what my work is all about, but there is a domination aspect to this, which you, possibly, are responding to."

"Responding to?" Maybe she was a dominatrix, maybe I wanted to be her servant. My penis was responding further to this. I felt her hand on my back, my shoulder, moving me an inch here, a foot there. I felt controlled, directed, I felt her touch me and linger. My penis became about as stiff as I could remember, stiff to the point I felt faint again. I felt weak, that I was shaking. If she'd offered me a cup of tea at that point I would have spilled it over my hands.

"Um, how d'you mean?"

"How do I mean? You have an erect penis, I am looking at it now, it is possibly caused by nothing specific, but we have been talking about your erection for five minutes and it has not gone away. Your prick is still hard, you still have a hardened prick despite the fact that it should really have gone down by now, especially as we have been talking about it, unless, and this is what I mean, you remain erect because we are talking about it, because I am looking at it. In other words...well, I'm sure you know what I mean."

"Yes, probably."

"Can I have you on the platform over in the other room? Would you mind? This is where you will be posing, it will give me a better idea of how you stand, hold, will fit into the class."

"Of course, no bother."

I turn behind me to pull at least my pants on, maybe shirt, trousers.

"Oh, please don't bother. It's only down this corridor. You don't need to dress, then undress."

And this feels more than casual now, again directed, a deliberate attempt to demean. I leave my clothes behind. In control of this woman, in the thrall to the erection she has given me. I relax the pose I'm in, stand before her with my hands resting on my hips, my left foot in front of my right, we stand as if at a party, at a busy pub, chatting about this, about that, except I am still naked and she is fully dressed, except she can glance over my exposed body and see my mat of dark pubic hair, the twin globes of my testicles and the protruding rod that is my engorged penis. And she does look, she carries on looking down at me. Which at least allows me to look, with less furtiveness, at her breasts, at the shape they make under her T-shirt and the dark points of her own arousal.

"okay, shall we go."

"Yep, lead the way."

And we walk, she waits for me, or, doesn't allow me to follow behind. I think she wants me right next to her, wants to maintain the illusion this is normal as long as possible. We walk out of this small room, through a door and into what could easily have been a school corridor, there is no carpet, a green and mauve tile, which is cold against my feet.

"So, you must be a student."

"Yes,"

"And what do you study?"

"I'm reading psychology."

"Of course, fascinating. It's just down here."

I follow her, or I walk next her, my hands swing, my legs step one on front of the other, I can smell the faint drift of her perfume, her shampoo, her shoes clack against the tiles, my bare feet are almost soundless. The cold air stiffens my nipples, stiffens hers further, and feels exquisite against the rest of my naked skin. My balls feel like they have risen inside me, my scrotum a wonderful pouch of tough flesh. I can feel a breeze, stronger now but still behind me, blowing against my bare buttocks. I feel my arse cheeks move, propelling me forwards, as I look down, at her legs, at the gentle wobble of her breasts, cotton holding them, rubbing against her. And my cock still leading me on. My erection has lost some of its rigidity but only so that it now bounces as I walk, it rises and drops, sways and circles obscenely as I step. We come to a closed door, half wood, half frosted glass, which she unlocks.

"After you."

And I enter before her. She steps aside to make way for me, giving me some extra inches so the horizontal rod of my penis does not brush against her hip. I stand at the edge of a large classroom, free of desks but with a circle of chairs, easels, canvasses and sketch material ringing a small wooden stage. I hear her close the door behind us and turn back to face her, my penis swinging a millisecond behind me. She looks down once more, not bothering now to make it a quick glance. It is unashamed, she is staring at my solid prick, which responds, which encourages her to continue looking by regaining its temporary loss of length, girth, hardness. I look down again, trying to resist the desire, the nearly overwhelming urge to grip it, to pull back my foreskin, expose myself totally to her, for her, let her see my dark red taut and tremulous glans, and then pull it back, then back. I look up, to resist the temptation to masturbate right there in the classroom, right there in front of her, resisting the need, the urge to have her watch me wank and cover her paint stained floor with thirteen days of unspent cum.

She is looking at me now, smiling faintly.

"and still, still you are hard."

"Well, yes. Not going away is it."

"All this talk, a little walk, some cold air. Still your penis is erect. Would you stand on the platform please"

I walk to it, bobbing and faint. Turn again to face her, to show her now, ready for her to stare at my throbbing cock, wanting her to talk about it, about my unyielding hardness.

"it is a very nice penis. Do you mind if I take a closer look?"

I say nothing, barely able to breathe. She steps to the right of the door and brings a chair to the edge of the platform, she beckons me forward a foot or so until she is no less than two, and now level, more or less, with my penis.

"it is a good one, quite long, not massive, not a monster, what would you say? Seven, eight probably, you have an eight inch penis when it is fully erect, and thick, it is thicker than most. And dark I see, most of them are, and yours has enough veins, there-"

she points a finger at the thickest of my cock's veins. Almost, but not touching.

"-that is a nice one, and those, and it is smooth, but not too smooth. You would feel those ridges, that vein, those undulations. That would feel very nice inside a woman's mouth, against her lips, on her tongue. Would it taste nice? It looks clean. It would feel wonderful in her vagina, I think so, or against her sphincter. It would feel nice for a man to have your cock penetrate his anus. Yes?"

I maintain a tactical silence.

"Do you not think? It would feel nice to sink that hard and deep into another man's rectum?"

I quiver, I feel my skin tighten, redden, my stomach turns.

"no matter. I would like to see all of it please. If that's okay.?"

"um, what do you mean?" I know what she means.

"You know. Pull your foreskin back please, pull the foreskin back over the head so I can see this."

I pull, without question, without wanting anything else. I expose my glistening plum, soaked with precum, sticky and oozing. I pull and see another drop of viscous, clear fluid pop out of my cock hole, I see it drip over the head to hang, thread like, from the end of my penis, it drips onto the stage floor, suspended from me, attached. I drop my hands.

"No, I cannot see it properly. Please hold your foreskin as far back, pull the skin down over the stem of your cock. Yes."

I pull, I hold my foreskin down, further engorging the tip, darkening it, allowing another drop to escape, showing her lip of my glans, the tender flesh under my foreskin.

"Yes, you have a very nice penis. I have still not seen everything though, not quite. So, I would like you to masturbate for me, until you climax, I'd like it of you could ejaculate onto this laminate, so I can see your cum. Is that okay? I'd like it if you could take as much time as you can, okay, and perhaps answer some quick questions about yourself. Truthfully of course."

"Yes." What else, what else could I say.

"and feel free to follow your own routine when you masturbate for me, if you touch yourself elsewhere, do you?"

"Yes"

"Well, that's a good place to start. Where, where else, apart from your penis, do you touch when you masturbate? You can start, please, when your ready."

I grip my cock, I squeeze the solid mass of erectile tissue as tightly as I can, I feel my cock head swell further, I grip and move.

"So, where do you touch, when you touch your cock?"

"I touch my balls."

"Sure, what else?"

"I touch my chest, my nipples. I squeeze them, I pull my balls, I stretch my scrotum."

"Yes, do that then, please, use your other hand."

I place my left hand over my scrotum, feeling my balls, pulling them, squeezing them as I manipulate the skin of my prick. I look down at myself wanking for her, I look across at her, inches really away from me.

"is that all you do, with your free hand?"

"no, no."

"Then what?"

"I press the root of my cock, like this. I rub my perineum."

"Right then, yes. And?"

I say nothing for a second.

"Come on, do you press a finger against your anus? Do you penetrate yourself? Do you fuck your arse with your finger?"

"yes."

"Yes? Yes what?"

"I fuck myself with my fingers, I stick a finger in my arse, I press it past my sphincter, deep as I can into my rectum."

"Have other people ever done this for you?"

"yes, other people have fucked me in the arse with their fingers."

"Other women? Other girls? Have?"

"Yes"

"Have what?"

"Other girls, I ask girls, when they are sucking my cock, when they are wanking my cock, when I am fucking them, I ask girls if they will stick their fingers in my arse."

"That's it?"

"I tell them to fuck me in the arse with their fingers. I say 'stick your finger in my bum, fuck me with your fingers, fuck me deep in my arse."

"Has a man ever done this to you?"

"No."

"No?"

"No."

"Well, has a man done anything to you, have you had a sexual experience with a man?"

I leave this. This I leave for a while, as I stand in front of her, maintaining a steady rhythm of hand on cock.

"Tell me, come on."

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"Probably, well, a few weeks ago."

"Weeks? Well. This is now interesting. What happened?"

"I was at the college gym, or I had finished there, I don't have much of a workout, but I'd finished. It was nearly closing time, only one other guy there, we'd been following each other on each piece of equipment. I think he finished first."

"How old was he?"

"older. Older than me. By, I don't know, five, six years."

"Yes."

"I went into the changing rooms, and I don't normally shower, I only live ten minutes away, usually I pick up my bag, head straight home, but I thought I'd have a shower this night, so I got undressed and packed my locker and walked to the showers, with a towel around me. And, well, being naked in a semi public place always gets me..."

"Yes, I see this."

"... of course. So I get to the shower, not aroused, but not unaroused either. I think I'll have a quick shower, maybe get myself nice and hard when I'm in there, not to do anything else, just to be in this semi public place, with an erection. And I get to the showers, which are these old, long communal things, two rows of showers on each side, and the guy who was working out with me is already there, already naked, washing his hair, he has his back to me."

"What did you see?"

"I saw his back. I saw his arse. He seemed tall, in good shape, toned and, well, pert really."

"Yes?"

"I think, shit, oh well, I'll just have a quick cool off and then go. So I remove my towel and place it on the chair, walk naked into the showers, more or less as he rinses his eyes out and turns, and sees me, so I am facing him, naked, as he is facing me naked, and I think I look down at him, I look down at his cock, which seems sort of long, sort of big really, and he's tall and soaking and has this long cock hanging down and I am dry and cold all of a sudden and I think he looks at me looking so I turn the water on and step under it and take a blast of cold water which quickly turns hot and I squeeze a lump of gel onto my hand and step back and start to lather myself and glance over at this guy, and he has turned to his side, not facing me, he's soaping himself as well, only when I look down his cock has got bigger, it's not hanging down any more it's sticking up."

"Like yours."

"Like mine. He has a hard on, he's not looking at me but he has a hard on and then I see him pour some soap onto it, I think he's circumsized, and begin to wank himself. He is masturbating there in front of me. I think of leaving, I am about to turn and go when I realise I have this enormous hard-on of my own. Looking at this guy in the shower next to me playing with himself has given me an erection, and I honestly think, what the hell, so I start to masturbate too. And he must see me because he turns, and turns the water off, so I do the same, so we face each other from separate stalls, maybe ten or so feet away from each other, naked, wet, and masturbate in front of each other, neither of us say anything, we just keep wanking, I look at his hand on his cock, at his balls as they bounce against his legs, I feel myself, I look down at myself and over at him, and his cock looks big, bigger than mine, I see he's looking down at me, at what I'm doing, I speed up, and he comes, he comes first, I watch another guy coming, for the first time, not in a film, I see him ejaculate, he keeps wanking himself as he does it, keeps moving and coming over his hand and the tiles, this blobs of semen covering his cock and fingers and this makes me come, really hard, but I make myself shoot as far as I can, I come away from myself, send these plumes of spunk towards him. And then we look at each other for a minutes, a few seconds, and release our cocks and watch as they drop back, hand out in front of us but begin to shrink."

"And that was all?"

"I left without drying."

"Why? Were you afraid of fucking him."

"I really didn't want to fuck him."

"So, you like to exhibit yourself.?"

"I must do."

"You may go quicker, if you like."

"Quicker?"

"You can rub yourself quicker."

I do, I start masturbating properly, I grip my cock, move my hand up and down the shaft as fast and hard as I can, pulling my foreskin over the tip, my balls shake against my thighs, the slick of pre-cum makes a wet sound as I manipulate skin over myself. I look at myself masturbate for her, look down at my prick and my hand, look at my balls as they are pulled out and back. Then I look at her, I look up to the art teacher, slow down, just slightly, look at her and listen to the squelch and slap of myself wanking for her, for her. I pull my foreskin completely back over the glans of my erection, I reveal the shiny and swollen head for her, I hold my penis tight, masturbate hard and slow, so she can see, so she can see everything. And I look at her, I look her in the eye, she holds my gaze, I look down at her chest, at the swell of her breasts and the twin points of her engorged nipples, I look up to her face, then deliberately down again to her tits, up then down to her crotch.

"You'd like to see me nude."

"Yes."

"Yes? Yes what?"

"I'd like to see you nude."

"What parts of me would you like to look at. Tell me."

"I'd like to look at your breasts, your belly, your legs, I'd like to see your arse. I'd like to see your cunt. I'd like to see your cunt, from here, from this space between us, and close up, I'd like to see the lips of your cunt, I'd like to see you with your legs spread and your cunt wide and open."

"Hmm. I'm not sure about that."

I might have stopped, stopped wanking that is, I think my hands had dropped to my sides, I think I was standing there again, with my prick rigid in front of me, my balls tight and close. She took a step back, towards a chair, without taking her eyes from me, without looking up from my cock. She stood in front of one of the chairs, a couple of feet from the platform, began to undo the buttons on her jeans. She looked me in the eye now and undid her trousers, pulled them loose, so I could see the pale and smooth skin of her belly just below her T-shirt, so I could see the white cotton of her knickers. She unzipped, revealed more of her underwear, revealing a darker patch where her own pubic hair showed through, she pushed her jeans down over her thighs, over her legs, bent to step out of them and stood back up straight, bare legged, her feet already unshod, the white flesh of her thighs squeezing against itself. And then she pulled down her knickers and stood with her feet apart, she slid them down her legs, stepped out of them and stood back up straight, naked now, from the waist down, showing me her thick and dark bush, vivid against her skin, the untrimmed hair that spread between her thighs, that concealed the detail of her pussy. She sat down, her legs together, on the edge of the seat, I looked at her black triangle of pubic covering, my prick still stiff and quivering, then she spread her legs and I could see her pussy, she opened herself wide and I looked at the swollen wet red folds of her cunt, I looked as she touched herself, and as she parted her thick labia and allowed the moisture from inside her vagina to seep out my own moisture burst from inside me, without touching myself I came, she rubbed her cunt and I moaned and spurted three and four jolts of thick white cum out in front of me, out towards her, out onto the already paint stained wooden floor.

I breathed heavily, light headed. I glanced down at the puddles of semen on the floor, at my prick, sagging now, a string of fluid dripping from its tip. She stood up, stepped back into her panties and trousers, pulled them back over her legs, took the couple of steps that brought her back close to me. She looked down at my softening cock, at its still oozing head, at my balls, hanging low now against my own thighs.

"okay then. Tuesday evening. Seven o'clock."