Pervy Pat
- 3 years ago
- 20
- 0
Pervy Experiences (not Already Told) free porn video
It’s been decades of girl-worship and my memory is not what it was, so I’ve remembered a few more lovely experiences this lucky perv’s enjoyed.
A shop near Leeds
When I was on the road, I’d always pull over and go and explore a newsagents – sometimes you’d find gems that had a big stock of dirty books. This one in a suburb of Leeds turned out not to – they had a few – but did have a lovely girl behind the counter.
I made several visits over a few months, getting to the stage where She’d keep the Daily Sport/Sunday Sport aside for me to collect weekly, and I’d open my case full of dirty books to try and get the Sports in. She was shocked the first time I opened my case on the floor of the shop and saw just how many nudie books I had and the state they were in.
Obviously with that, and the dirty mac I was wearing, She knew I was a dirty old man at least, if not a big wanker. After seeing some of Her lovely outfits, I was desperate to spunk with my eyes on Her, having done so many times thinking about Her. There was a phone booth outside the shop and I always went in there afterwards to mac-wank, hoping to see Her through the door of the shop, but only ever getting very fleeting glimpses.
I was in the phone box one day, having bought a couple of dirty mags from Her and collected all my Sports, having a real trouble forcing my purchases in the case and having to pull mags out to try and sort out more room. I was erect under my mac with my hands in my pockets, in the box trying to look through the shop door, when suddenly out She came and stopped to talk to a lady, in my full view. Joy of joys!
It took just a couple of little strokes and the cum was pumping into my underpants, while I contorted in pure pervert ecstasy. I thought there was a risk She might look at the phone booth, but I knew it was soundproof and I really loved letting my pathetic moans rise as She made me cum in my pants. My head and shoulders were jerking forward in time to the shots of spunk and I gazed at Her, dazed, as the wetness soaked all around my balls and round to my arse.
I had the joy of observing Her for a full 15 minutes before She walked off, maybe home for Her lunch break. Unfortunately that never happened again.
A shop in a town in Leicestershire
I spied another newsagents as I drove through this town and instantly parked up to dash back and investigate. There was a shapely woman behind the counter, bulging in a nice top, and at the end of the counter, in between it and the window, was a rack of magazines, the type you spun round.
I spent a good half hour looking at the mags, picking out several to buy, all the while watching Her as She served, smiling and talking to the customers, moving around and making me very erect under my mac seeing the way Her bosoms moved in that top and how lovely She was.
In a few weeks of visits, I’d set up the weekly collection of Sports with Her, and at this time I’d swopped my large briefcase for a suitcase to carry my dirty mags around. (Not all of them of course, I had 1000s and 100s – this was just a selection with nice covers that I liked girls to see to confirm their likely suspicion I was a pervert).
That case wasn’t really sturdy enough for all the mags crammed in it and one day it just fell off the handle, crashing to the floor. I was lucky it didn’t split open and spill a few hundred dirty mags on the floor in front of passersby – or unlucky?
I was using it though on my visits to this shop and managed to get in onto the corner of the counter and cram my purchases in. She must have been surprised to see how many dirty mags this perv in his dirty mac was carrying around, and may well have guessed that of course the idea was that She would see in my case and conclude I was a very big and dirty wanker.
She never let on though, and was always very civil and kind, like She understood I had a sort of sexual disability and wasn’t going to discriminate against it. When I picked up the Sports they were always folded in half and so I asked Her if they could be stored flat until I collected them. I can’t remember if I asked Her when I was there or phoned Her up, but I did explain that the problem was that it put a fold through the picture of the bare girl on Page 3.
She was fine about it, as if it was perfectly normal, and in future the paper was supplied flat. I was always worried about getting obsessed with girls like that in that situation, and that I would get carried away and do something unacceptable, like leave my mac open so that She’d see my bulge, so I tended to move on after a while. I also often found my deliveries didn’t take me to an area for several weeks, or even ever again, so all these little ventures eventually came to an end.
As always I was increasingly desperate to spunk my pants seeing Her for real, not just in my thoughts and wet dreams. After seeing Her in one of Her lovely full tops, and buying mags, Sports and showing Her the mags in my huge case, the state they were in and the covers chosen to demonstrate I was a real perv – like ‘Big Tits Forever’, a pocket-sized mag found in an exchange bookshop which had a goddess with big bare tits on the cover (not allowed in newsagents), and a wad of toilet paper stuck in it – I’d leave the shop in such a state, with a lot of precum leaked in my pants.
Of course, the big temptation was to stand outside the shop and look in the window at Her, but I would have been obvious. There was no bus stop or phone box. How could I get to watch Her and spunk my pants??! It would take Her a few seconds, no more, to make me cum in my pants. I was increasingly DESPERATE.
In the end I couldn’t take it anymore, and after going well OTT at the counter with my case open and shuffling mags around, oblivious of the risk of a customer coming in, and hoping if I prolonged it enough I’d cum in my pants at the counter, I went outside and dumped my case and turned to look in the window. I knew if I put my hand in my pocket and She turned and saw She would know exactly what I was doing and there could be trouble, but then I figured that it would be worth it, even if I couldn’t go back there again.
As I watched a customer went in, it turned out to pay his paper bill or something, so She reached under the counter for Her book to sum up what he owed or whatever, and even though I only had a side view as She leant over the counter, all my pent-up perv desire spilled over and the spunk spilled into my pants, the shots making my knees dip as I tried to stop convulsing and moaning, just in case She looked round and saw me.
I’m not sure but there’s a good chance She could see me with peripheral vision, but chose not to show She could see me, knowing perhaps that I desperately needed to do what I was doing. I like to k** myself that’s the case, but then I’m a wanker and that’s the sort of fantasy us wankers have to have.
Miss Melanie’s ‘stocking-tops show’
Finding Miss Melanie was a stroke of luck, and even luckier was that first meeting, where She posed – just so I could watch, I had no camera – and She took me completely by surprise so when She made me spunk my pants I was unable to control it, flailing like a rag-doll as the shots of spunk wracked through me and I was unable to stifle my moans.
That meant from then on I felt it was ok to pants-spunk openly in front of Her – that first time my mac was done up but every time after it wasn’t, so She saw me wet my pants and trousers. I was at Her mercy really, having never seen a girl deliberately show before, so I was addicted for years until Her ever-increasing fees left me virtually bankrupt and I never saw Her again.
Although I got a lot for the money – £200 per Session towards the end, a LOT of money in those days – 3 packs of knicker-show pics, 20 minutes to ogle and see Her read my made-up mags of Her pics, complete with captions, cartoons, spunk-stains and toilet paper, spunk my pants in front of Her and then a phone-call after to say the things I couldn’t when I was there – She did take advantage of me, sometimes showing me the door clutching my new pics of Her after only 10 minutes, so I had to go and sit in my van outside, ogling Her new pics till She made me spunk my pants.
After that first time, when She let me see Her knix, I rarely got to see as much again – why should She, when She knew She’d made me spunk my pants just showing stocking-tops or even less? But I did get special treats a couple of times (for a price). Best were Her special ‘stocking-tops shows’. Normally She’d sit carelessly and read the worship stuff in my case, but for Her shows I was allowed just to look at Her till She made me pump spunk through the front of my trousers right in front of Her.
Although I did video nearly all the Worship Sessions – She did the first few – I was so inept that a lot was missed. Later I used a tripod but early on the camera just sat somewhere, so most of my pants-spunking wasn’t filmed, but two were.
The best is where the tripod is on one side of the room, She’s reclining in the middle and I’m on the other side, so you can see what She’s showing, and what She’s reading, and me with my mac open and prong sticking upright. She makes me spunk my pants and you can see the wet patch.
The 2nd time was one of the ‘stocking-tops shows’, where She’s placed the camera on a bedside table, giving a good view of Her ‘stocking-top show’, but not Her face, and then the pervert on the other side with his mac pulled up and pathetic prong pointing upwards. Unfortunately I’d put the tape in wrong so it wasn’t properly engaged and there’s no sound, plus a fuzzy band at the bottom of the screen.
That’s a real shame cause She’s saying the loveliest things, like “you’re such a big wanker Graham, you only need to see my stocking-tops don’t you, you’re not allowed to see any more, only in my photos where I show my knickers, but that’s all you’re seeing now, and you’re spunking in your pants already aren’t you, sad wanker..” things like that. I edit out my sounds before publication (I’m too embarrassed), but here I’m whimpering on the verge, then going “oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh,” as She makes me fill my pants.
You can see me shuddering as She makes me cum in my pants, though you can’t hear my moans, and the picture’s not good enough to see my wet patch spreading. It’s a great shame cause that’s such a lovely scenario, Her showing only Her stocking-tops and saying nice things, taunting me, and me just gawping at Her, feeling the spunk rising and my noises reflecting my rising ecstasy, and not holding back as ejaculation starts but showing Her with my loud pathetic cries of “oh oh oh” just the pure perv ecstasy She’s giving me – and none of it comes out on the video! Typical useless tosser!
‘Whimpering Wanker wetting himself’ -
Poor video of ‘stocking-tops show’ – no sound but She’s taunting him, calling him a wanker, and he’s pumping spunk through the front of his trousers, whimpering and moaning...
Those were my favourites, those ‘stocking-top shows’, if that was on the menu I was beside myself with excitement of anticipation. (The others were spunking over Her photos in front of her, a story I’ve already told).
Showing Miss Debbie my ‘Spunk Queen’ mags / standing at bus-stop
I loved my trips to Aphrodite in Derby, which I did for quite a few years, buying an awful lot of dirty mags over that time. Miss Debbie was lovely and kind, She seemed to understand pervs and I did take some liberties – She saw my spunk-stained wank-trousers, the holes in my mac pockets, the state of the mags crammed into my case including what I wrote in them when I picked one out to show Her an advert for mags.
“can I order these magazines please Miss?!” I did this many times but no mags were ever ordered – She knew I just wanted Her to see what I’d done to the pic on the opposite page...
She was tolerant, even when on one occasion when She saw my wank-trousers there was a fresh, wet spunk-patch which She’d just made me put there. When computers came along, and the Internet, I used a program to make up ‘mag covers’, and I sent many of these to the Goddesses I worshipped, using their photos and lots of pervy captions – sent many to Miss Danica.
Mostly I’d call my mags ‘Spunk Queen’, and there’d be ‘Big Tit Spunk Queen’, ‘Cleavage Spunk Queen’, and other variations on the theme. I’d print them out and I put a lot into a binder and took them to show Miss Debbie. At the counter, I placed my purchases down and then opened my case to pull out the ‘Spunk Queen’ magazines ‘brochure’. You can guess how pervy my captions were – stuff like ‘for pervs who only see girls bare in mags’, ‘She will make you spunk your pants’, and lots and lots of stuff like that.
It was a real perv-fest making up stuff like that, for a real pervert to pleasure himself in the privacy of his wank-room, but I longed for girls to see them, and in the end many did. But showing them to Miss Debbie was about asking Her where I could buy the full magazines – yes, I feel a bit guilty, taking liberties like that, but She didn’t bat an eyelid and was very helpful. Maybe She knew the sex pleasure, the pervert sex pleasure I got from seeing Her read those covers.
One of the other things I haven’t mentioned before I don’t think is after leaving Her shop with my purchases, I’d stand at the bus stop on the other side of the road and wait for Her to lock-up and leave. I loved the naughty dirty guilty pleasure of mac-wanking watching Her, though She was never there for more than half a minute or so and the only time I was able to pants-spunk with my eyes on Her was that time in Her shop when She was wearing a very short skirt.
One or two more ‘lucky views’
There was an area of the city which was a red light district, and I’d park up with all my mags. On this occasion I was some way away from the main area, ogling my new mags, when I realised the street was filling up with girls going clubbing. I was surprised as we weren’t near the city centre, but when I saw the skimpy-dressed sex queens, I jumped out in my mac, all zipped up as usual, and pressed up against the van to watch the girls going along to the pub in their short skirts. I held on as long as possible so I could ogle as many girls as possible but it was only a few minutes and I was shuddering and wetting my pants with perv-spunk as all the girls walked by.
Later, in this same area, one of the streets off the main red light district, I was driving along to find a spot to ogle my mags, and I saw this girl – almost certainly on the game – sitting on a wall in a short skirt, talking to a couple of lads. I’m totally unable to resist anything like that and was able to park along the pavement, on the opposite part of the road, to ogle Her knicker-show, and cum in my pants after a couple of minutes.
I already had a lot of dirty mags spread about and after I’d been there for 10 minutes or so, feeling the wetness soak into my pants and the stink of spunk coming up, She walked across, having decided I was looking for business after all. As soon as She saw all the mags I pretended to be shocked, trying to gather them all up and cover my big wet patch. I heard Her through the window “you fucking pervert, you wanker...”
I nodded vigorously ‘yes’, smiling at Her and then driving off.
Another in Hull
This was a favourite spot to park up with my mags and pants-spunk, and if I was lucky, see lovely street ladies wearing breathtakingly skimpy outfits. I’d decided to park and then walk round, to see if I could see some girls. There was a nitelife pub at the edge of the red light district and often I’d see girls there. Anyway, I was round the back of the district walking back up to the main street of it where my van was, and I walked past two girls, chatting and waiting for business. I was on the other side of the road and walked past till I came to a lorry parked. I stopped there and slowly shuffled back to peer round the front of the lorry and look at them. One girl had a lovely short skirt on and of course I was mac-wanking watching Her.
To get a better view I came out from behind the lorry and jerked under my mac in full view of them, though they seemed not to notice me. Of course it took only a minute or so for Her to make me start spurting, my knees giving way as I shuddered and making that awful groaning noise as She made me cum in my pants.
Perv mac-wanked and pants-spunked on Miss Miniskirt.....
A shop near Leeds
When I was on the road, I’d always pull over and go and explore a newsagents – sometimes you’d find gems that had a big stock of dirty books. This one in a suburb of Leeds turned out not to – they had a few – but did have a lovely girl behind the counter.
I made several visits over a few months, getting to the stage where She’d keep the Daily Sport/Sunday Sport aside for me to collect weekly, and I’d open my case full of dirty books to try and get the Sports in. She was shocked the first time I opened my case on the floor of the shop and saw just how many nudie books I had and the state they were in.
Obviously with that, and the dirty mac I was wearing, She knew I was a dirty old man at least, if not a big wanker. After seeing some of Her lovely outfits, I was desperate to spunk with my eyes on Her, having done so many times thinking about Her. There was a phone booth outside the shop and I always went in there afterwards to mac-wank, hoping to see Her through the door of the shop, but only ever getting very fleeting glimpses.
I was in the phone box one day, having bought a couple of dirty mags from Her and collected all my Sports, having a real trouble forcing my purchases in the case and having to pull mags out to try and sort out more room. I was erect under my mac with my hands in my pockets, in the box trying to look through the shop door, when suddenly out She came and stopped to talk to a lady, in my full view. Joy of joys!
It took just a couple of little strokes and the cum was pumping into my underpants, while I contorted in pure pervert ecstasy. I thought there was a risk She might look at the phone booth, but I knew it was soundproof and I really loved letting my pathetic moans rise as She made me cum in my pants. My head and shoulders were jerking forward in time to the shots of spunk and I gazed at Her, dazed, as the wetness soaked all around my balls and round to my arse.
I had the joy of observing Her for a full 15 minutes before She walked off, maybe home for Her lunch break. Unfortunately that never happened again.
A shop in a town in Leicestershire
I spied another newsagents as I drove through this town and instantly parked up to dash back and investigate. There was a shapely woman behind the counter, bulging in a nice top, and at the end of the counter, in between it and the window, was a rack of magazines, the type you spun round.
I spent a good half hour looking at the mags, picking out several to buy, all the while watching Her as She served, smiling and talking to the customers, moving around and making me very erect under my mac seeing the way Her bosoms moved in that top and how lovely She was.
In a few weeks of visits, I’d set up the weekly collection of Sports with Her, and at this time I’d swopped my large briefcase for a suitcase to carry my dirty mags around. (Not all of them of course, I had 1000s and 100s – this was just a selection with nice covers that I liked girls to see to confirm their likely suspicion I was a pervert).
That case wasn’t really sturdy enough for all the mags crammed in it and one day it just fell off the handle, crashing to the floor. I was lucky it didn’t split open and spill a few hundred dirty mags on the floor in front of passersby – or unlucky?
I was using it though on my visits to this shop and managed to get in onto the corner of the counter and cram my purchases in. She must have been surprised to see how many dirty mags this perv in his dirty mac was carrying around, and may well have guessed that of course the idea was that She would see in my case and conclude I was a very big and dirty wanker.
She never let on though, and was always very civil and kind, like She understood I had a sort of sexual disability and wasn’t going to discriminate against it. When I picked up the Sports they were always folded in half and so I asked Her if they could be stored flat until I collected them. I can’t remember if I asked Her when I was there or phoned Her up, but I did explain that the problem was that it put a fold through the picture of the bare girl on Page 3.
She was fine about it, as if it was perfectly normal, and in future the paper was supplied flat. I was always worried about getting obsessed with girls like that in that situation, and that I would get carried away and do something unacceptable, like leave my mac open so that She’d see my bulge, so I tended to move on after a while. I also often found my deliveries didn’t take me to an area for several weeks, or even ever again, so all these little ventures eventually came to an end.
As always I was increasingly desperate to spunk my pants seeing Her for real, not just in my thoughts and wet dreams. After seeing Her in one of Her lovely full tops, and buying mags, Sports and showing Her the mags in my huge case, the state they were in and the covers chosen to demonstrate I was a real perv – like ‘Big Tits Forever’, a pocket-sized mag found in an exchange bookshop which had a goddess with big bare tits on the cover (not allowed in newsagents), and a wad of toilet paper stuck in it – I’d leave the shop in such a state, with a lot of precum leaked in my pants.
Of course, the big temptation was to stand outside the shop and look in the window at Her, but I would have been obvious. There was no bus stop or phone box. How could I get to watch Her and spunk my pants??! It would take Her a few seconds, no more, to make me cum in my pants. I was increasingly DESPERATE.
In the end I couldn’t take it anymore, and after going well OTT at the counter with my case open and shuffling mags around, oblivious of the risk of a customer coming in, and hoping if I prolonged it enough I’d cum in my pants at the counter, I went outside and dumped my case and turned to look in the window. I knew if I put my hand in my pocket and She turned and saw She would know exactly what I was doing and there could be trouble, but then I figured that it would be worth it, even if I couldn’t go back there again.
As I watched a customer went in, it turned out to pay his paper bill or something, so She reached under the counter for Her book to sum up what he owed or whatever, and even though I only had a side view as She leant over the counter, all my pent-up perv desire spilled over and the spunk spilled into my pants, the shots making my knees dip as I tried to stop convulsing and moaning, just in case She looked round and saw me.
I’m not sure but there’s a good chance She could see me with peripheral vision, but chose not to show She could see me, knowing perhaps that I desperately needed to do what I was doing. I like to k** myself that’s the case, but then I’m a wanker and that’s the sort of fantasy us wankers have to have.
Miss Melanie’s ‘stocking-tops show’
Finding Miss Melanie was a stroke of luck, and even luckier was that first meeting, where She posed – just so I could watch, I had no camera – and She took me completely by surprise so when She made me spunk my pants I was unable to control it, flailing like a rag-doll as the shots of spunk wracked through me and I was unable to stifle my moans.
That meant from then on I felt it was ok to pants-spunk openly in front of Her – that first time my mac was done up but every time after it wasn’t, so She saw me wet my pants and trousers. I was at Her mercy really, having never seen a girl deliberately show before, so I was addicted for years until Her ever-increasing fees left me virtually bankrupt and I never saw Her again.
Although I got a lot for the money – £200 per Session towards the end, a LOT of money in those days – 3 packs of knicker-show pics, 20 minutes to ogle and see Her read my made-up mags of Her pics, complete with captions, cartoons, spunk-stains and toilet paper, spunk my pants in front of Her and then a phone-call after to say the things I couldn’t when I was there – She did take advantage of me, sometimes showing me the door clutching my new pics of Her after only 10 minutes, so I had to go and sit in my van outside, ogling Her new pics till She made me spunk my pants.
After that first time, when She let me see Her knix, I rarely got to see as much again – why should She, when She knew She’d made me spunk my pants just showing stocking-tops or even less? But I did get special treats a couple of times (for a price). Best were Her special ‘stocking-tops shows’. Normally She’d sit carelessly and read the worship stuff in my case, but for Her shows I was allowed just to look at Her till She made me pump spunk through the front of my trousers right in front of Her.
Although I did video nearly all the Worship Sessions – She did the first few – I was so inept that a lot was missed. Later I used a tripod but early on the camera just sat somewhere, so most of my pants-spunking wasn’t filmed, but two were.
The best is where the tripod is on one side of the room, She’s reclining in the middle and I’m on the other side, so you can see what She’s showing, and what She’s reading, and me with my mac open and prong sticking upright. She makes me spunk my pants and you can see the wet patch.
The 2nd time was one of the ‘stocking-tops shows’, where She’s placed the camera on a bedside table, giving a good view of Her ‘stocking-top show’, but not Her face, and then the pervert on the other side with his mac pulled up and pathetic prong pointing upwards. Unfortunately I’d put the tape in wrong so it wasn’t properly engaged and there’s no sound, plus a fuzzy band at the bottom of the screen.
That’s a real shame cause She’s saying the loveliest things, like “you’re such a big wanker Graham, you only need to see my stocking-tops don’t you, you’re not allowed to see any more, only in my photos where I show my knickers, but that’s all you’re seeing now, and you’re spunking in your pants already aren’t you, sad wanker..” things like that. I edit out my sounds before publication (I’m too embarrassed), but here I’m whimpering on the verge, then going “oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh,” as She makes me fill my pants.
You can see me shuddering as She makes me cum in my pants, though you can’t hear my moans, and the picture’s not good enough to see my wet patch spreading. It’s a great shame cause that’s such a lovely scenario, Her showing only Her stocking-tops and saying nice things, taunting me, and me just gawping at Her, feeling the spunk rising and my noises reflecting my rising ecstasy, and not holding back as ejaculation starts but showing Her with my loud pathetic cries of “oh oh oh” just the pure perv ecstasy She’s giving me – and none of it comes out on the video! Typical useless tosser!
‘Whimpering Wanker wetting himself’ -
Poor video of ‘stocking-tops show’ – no sound but She’s taunting him, calling him a wanker, and he’s pumping spunk through the front of his trousers, whimpering and moaning...
Those were my favourites, those ‘stocking-top shows’, if that was on the menu I was beside myself with excitement of anticipation. (The others were spunking over Her photos in front of her, a story I’ve already told).
Showing Miss Debbie my ‘Spunk Queen’ mags / standing at bus-stop
I loved my trips to Aphrodite in Derby, which I did for quite a few years, buying an awful lot of dirty mags over that time. Miss Debbie was lovely and kind, She seemed to understand pervs and I did take some liberties – She saw my spunk-stained wank-trousers, the holes in my mac pockets, the state of the mags crammed into my case including what I wrote in them when I picked one out to show Her an advert for mags.
“can I order these magazines please Miss?!” I did this many times but no mags were ever ordered – She knew I just wanted Her to see what I’d done to the pic on the opposite page...
She was tolerant, even when on one occasion when She saw my wank-trousers there was a fresh, wet spunk-patch which She’d just made me put there. When computers came along, and the Internet, I used a program to make up ‘mag covers’, and I sent many of these to the Goddesses I worshipped, using their photos and lots of pervy captions – sent many to Miss Danica.
Mostly I’d call my mags ‘Spunk Queen’, and there’d be ‘Big Tit Spunk Queen’, ‘Cleavage Spunk Queen’, and other variations on the theme. I’d print them out and I put a lot into a binder and took them to show Miss Debbie. At the counter, I placed my purchases down and then opened my case to pull out the ‘Spunk Queen’ magazines ‘brochure’. You can guess how pervy my captions were – stuff like ‘for pervs who only see girls bare in mags’, ‘She will make you spunk your pants’, and lots and lots of stuff like that.
It was a real perv-fest making up stuff like that, for a real pervert to pleasure himself in the privacy of his wank-room, but I longed for girls to see them, and in the end many did. But showing them to Miss Debbie was about asking Her where I could buy the full magazines – yes, I feel a bit guilty, taking liberties like that, but She didn’t bat an eyelid and was very helpful. Maybe She knew the sex pleasure, the pervert sex pleasure I got from seeing Her read those covers.
One of the other things I haven’t mentioned before I don’t think is after leaving Her shop with my purchases, I’d stand at the bus stop on the other side of the road and wait for Her to lock-up and leave. I loved the naughty dirty guilty pleasure of mac-wanking watching Her, though She was never there for more than half a minute or so and the only time I was able to pants-spunk with my eyes on Her was that time in Her shop when She was wearing a very short skirt.
One or two more ‘lucky views’
There was an area of the city which was a red light district, and I’d park up with all my mags. On this occasion I was some way away from the main area, ogling my new mags, when I realised the street was filling up with girls going clubbing. I was surprised as we weren’t near the city centre, but when I saw the skimpy-dressed sex queens, I jumped out in my mac, all zipped up as usual, and pressed up against the van to watch the girls going along to the pub in their short skirts. I held on as long as possible so I could ogle as many girls as possible but it was only a few minutes and I was shuddering and wetting my pants with perv-spunk as all the girls walked by.
Later, in this same area, one of the streets off the main red light district, I was driving along to find a spot to ogle my mags, and I saw this girl – almost certainly on the game – sitting on a wall in a short skirt, talking to a couple of lads. I’m totally unable to resist anything like that and was able to park along the pavement, on the opposite part of the road, to ogle Her knicker-show, and cum in my pants after a couple of minutes.
I already had a lot of dirty mags spread about and after I’d been there for 10 minutes or so, feeling the wetness soak into my pants and the stink of spunk coming up, She walked across, having decided I was looking for business after all. As soon as She saw all the mags I pretended to be shocked, trying to gather them all up and cover my big wet patch. I heard Her through the window “you fucking pervert, you wanker...”
I nodded vigorously ‘yes’, smiling at Her and then driving off.
Another in Hull
This was a favourite spot to park up with my mags and pants-spunk, and if I was lucky, see lovely street ladies wearing breathtakingly skimpy outfits. I’d decided to park and then walk round, to see if I could see some girls. There was a nitelife pub at the edge of the red light district and often I’d see girls there. Anyway, I was round the back of the district walking back up to the main street of it where my van was, and I walked past two girls, chatting and waiting for business. I was on the other side of the road and walked past till I came to a lorry parked. I stopped there and slowly shuffled back to peer round the front of the lorry and look at them. One girl had a lovely short skirt on and of course I was mac-wanking watching Her.
To get a better view I came out from behind the lorry and jerked under my mac in full view of them, though they seemed not to notice me. Of course it took only a minute or so for Her to make me start spurting, my knees giving way as I shuddered and making that awful groaning noise as She made me cum in my pants.
Perv mac-wanked and pants-spunked on Miss Miniskirt.....
Nanette
- 05.05.2021
- 36
- 0
