Secret worship
- 3 years ago
- 17
- 0
Letting A Girl Know You Secretly Worship Her free porn video
First of all, She has to know you’re a wanker. Easy – you just go up to Her and say “I’m a wanker and I worship you Miss”. Not.
It takes time. Usually it will be a girl at work, or somewhere you regularly see Her, like if She works in a pub or shop – specially a dirty bookshop. For worshippers who have a normal social life it could be friends or even family – not anything I can tell you about, but I would have thought a lot more risky, if you don’t want your dirty dark-life secret to be out.
I worshipped several girls at work, one who I was utterly obsessed with. Again, rules first – nothing you do, and that means nothing, should ever make Her feel uncomfortable or threatened, offended or upset, that’s NOT what girl-worshippers do.
If your job gives you regular interaction with Her – I delivered the mail – then over a period of time you can sow the seeds. Sorry about the unintended pun... She will notice, as will the other girls in Her office, that you are very nervous and timid around girls. You find it difficult to talk to them or look them in the eyes, and you are clumsy around them, dropping things, bumping into things, falling over your feet (I did that once genuinely, seeing my Goddess in a figure-hugging outfit walking down the corridor towards me).
If ever conversation is around relationships and dating etc, and someone asks you, you immediately (genuinely) become red-faced and tongue-tied, so that they form the impression that you don’t do any of that – as a wanker wouldn’t.
She will also notice that She entrances you, by the way you look at Her, your delayed and mumbled response to what She says, how your eyes always migrate to Her cleavage or short skirt, no matter how many times you try to tug them away. There’s also how eager you are to do Her bidding, to do things that please Her – there was one girl at a place I worked, Miss Jane, and I’d always be waiting in the car park to open Her door for Her to get in or out. I was genuinely wanting to be helpful but She probably thought it was so I could see all Her breath-taking legginess when She wore those very short mini-dresses girls used to wear in the 70s.
It’s not just a subservience thing – I wanted to demonstrate devotion to Her, and my ultimate fantasy was to serve a girl, wait on Her hand and foot, be allowed to be that part of Her life as Her servant, slave.
So think about it from Her point of view – this timid lad from the stores who find any excuse to come up to the offices where She works, who’ll willingly run Her errands, finds it difficult not to stare at Her in a sort of trance when he sees Her tight top or short skirt. Back in the 70s there wasn’t the awareness about all things to do with sex as there is now, though most girls would know about dirty old men in rainmacs, even if they were confused with flashers.
Though polite girls would never use that sort of language, everyone knew what a wanker was. So She may well have known that this spotty young chap in his work overalls would rub himself into ecstasy every evening thinking about Her. I hope so. Whether She would know that for blokes like me, wanking was all I did, I don’t know. I doubt She would know that I’d cum in my underpants just looking at girls.
Of course when I was obsessed with a girl as I was with Her, cumming in my pants watching Her was what I longed to do. Every day I’d dream about it, becoming consumed by it, and eventually prepared to take big risks to make it happen. But ensuring that She knew when it happened was not an option – the fall-out from that would be disastrous, meaning loss of my job, ostracisation, risk of beating by boyfriend, etc etc.
It would not be until I was in my 40s that I was able to openly cum in my pants in front of a girl, and that started by accident anyway. She took me by surprise so I couldn’t control or hide it, and it was only because She wasn’t the slightest bit bothered that I was able to do it again and again – my first ‘worship in person’.
So to make that dream cum true, I loitered in the corridor, watching Her through the window of Her office, and the window in the door to the stairs. I can’t be sure if She saw me out the corner of Her eye, but I was too far gone to worry, and ogled Her in Her taut blouse as I pressed up against the banister and in less than 60 seconds warm wetness was spreading around inside my underpants and trousers while I moaned in joyful, nervous, grateful ecstasy, my dream having cum true. At no time did She look up from Her desk.
Of course, having done it once, all I could think of was doing it again. As far as I know, She was oblivious to all the occasions when I spunked my underpants while my eyes had Her in view. But She certainly knew I was very taken with Her – to what extent She knew I worshipped Her, I can’t tell – unlikely, unfortunately. But I did everything I could to get that message across while avoiding any risk of offending Her or causing any discomfort – a difficult balancing act.
Secret worship is lovely, and there are many girls I still secretly worship – how lovely now to be able to get pics of them from their Facebook pages and so on. There’s nothing like the delicious feelings of guilt and shame you get having to face a girl who last night you were pervily rubbing yourself into ecstasy on, looking at Her photo.
However, worship in person caps all of that, without question. You get the best of both worlds because you’re doing all that pervy stuff about Her, and then you have the unbridled joy of telling Her all about it, Her seeing the evidence, and hearing Her laugh at your antics. Given the choice, open worship rather than secret, but the reason it’s secret is that there’s no way you can tell most of the girls you worship. You can only hint at it in your words and actions, gradually over a period of time so She slowly arrives at that conclusion – you hope.
It takes time. Usually it will be a girl at work, or somewhere you regularly see Her, like if She works in a pub or shop – specially a dirty bookshop. For worshippers who have a normal social life it could be friends or even family – not anything I can tell you about, but I would have thought a lot more risky, if you don’t want your dirty dark-life secret to be out.
I worshipped several girls at work, one who I was utterly obsessed with. Again, rules first – nothing you do, and that means nothing, should ever make Her feel uncomfortable or threatened, offended or upset, that’s NOT what girl-worshippers do.
If your job gives you regular interaction with Her – I delivered the mail – then over a period of time you can sow the seeds. Sorry about the unintended pun... She will notice, as will the other girls in Her office, that you are very nervous and timid around girls. You find it difficult to talk to them or look them in the eyes, and you are clumsy around them, dropping things, bumping into things, falling over your feet (I did that once genuinely, seeing my Goddess in a figure-hugging outfit walking down the corridor towards me).
If ever conversation is around relationships and dating etc, and someone asks you, you immediately (genuinely) become red-faced and tongue-tied, so that they form the impression that you don’t do any of that – as a wanker wouldn’t.
She will also notice that She entrances you, by the way you look at Her, your delayed and mumbled response to what She says, how your eyes always migrate to Her cleavage or short skirt, no matter how many times you try to tug them away. There’s also how eager you are to do Her bidding, to do things that please Her – there was one girl at a place I worked, Miss Jane, and I’d always be waiting in the car park to open Her door for Her to get in or out. I was genuinely wanting to be helpful but She probably thought it was so I could see all Her breath-taking legginess when She wore those very short mini-dresses girls used to wear in the 70s.
It’s not just a subservience thing – I wanted to demonstrate devotion to Her, and my ultimate fantasy was to serve a girl, wait on Her hand and foot, be allowed to be that part of Her life as Her servant, slave.
So think about it from Her point of view – this timid lad from the stores who find any excuse to come up to the offices where She works, who’ll willingly run Her errands, finds it difficult not to stare at Her in a sort of trance when he sees Her tight top or short skirt. Back in the 70s there wasn’t the awareness about all things to do with sex as there is now, though most girls would know about dirty old men in rainmacs, even if they were confused with flashers.
Though polite girls would never use that sort of language, everyone knew what a wanker was. So She may well have known that this spotty young chap in his work overalls would rub himself into ecstasy every evening thinking about Her. I hope so. Whether She would know that for blokes like me, wanking was all I did, I don’t know. I doubt She would know that I’d cum in my underpants just looking at girls.
Of course when I was obsessed with a girl as I was with Her, cumming in my pants watching Her was what I longed to do. Every day I’d dream about it, becoming consumed by it, and eventually prepared to take big risks to make it happen. But ensuring that She knew when it happened was not an option – the fall-out from that would be disastrous, meaning loss of my job, ostracisation, risk of beating by boyfriend, etc etc.
It would not be until I was in my 40s that I was able to openly cum in my pants in front of a girl, and that started by accident anyway. She took me by surprise so I couldn’t control or hide it, and it was only because She wasn’t the slightest bit bothered that I was able to do it again and again – my first ‘worship in person’.
So to make that dream cum true, I loitered in the corridor, watching Her through the window of Her office, and the window in the door to the stairs. I can’t be sure if She saw me out the corner of Her eye, but I was too far gone to worry, and ogled Her in Her taut blouse as I pressed up against the banister and in less than 60 seconds warm wetness was spreading around inside my underpants and trousers while I moaned in joyful, nervous, grateful ecstasy, my dream having cum true. At no time did She look up from Her desk.
Of course, having done it once, all I could think of was doing it again. As far as I know, She was oblivious to all the occasions when I spunked my underpants while my eyes had Her in view. But She certainly knew I was very taken with Her – to what extent She knew I worshipped Her, I can’t tell – unlikely, unfortunately. But I did everything I could to get that message across while avoiding any risk of offending Her or causing any discomfort – a difficult balancing act.
Secret worship is lovely, and there are many girls I still secretly worship – how lovely now to be able to get pics of them from their Facebook pages and so on. There’s nothing like the delicious feelings of guilt and shame you get having to face a girl who last night you were pervily rubbing yourself into ecstasy on, looking at Her photo.
However, worship in person caps all of that, without question. You get the best of both worlds because you’re doing all that pervy stuff about Her, and then you have the unbridled joy of telling Her all about it, Her seeing the evidence, and hearing Her laugh at your antics. Given the choice, open worship rather than secret, but the reason it’s secret is that there’s no way you can tell most of the girls you worship. You can only hint at it in your words and actions, gradually over a period of time so She slowly arrives at that conclusion – you hope.
Barbie
- 13.09.2021
- 15
- 0
Goddesses I was allowed to worship
- 3 years ago
- 17
- 0
Worship Sessions are for life not just
- 3 years ago
- 19
- 0
