Top Ten Pants Spunks ndash Miss Rosie
- 2 years ago
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Top Ten Pants-Spunks – Miss Donna free porn video
I saw Her ad in the Sport – ‘model 42-28-36’ – and knew I had to go along. At that time I was used to Worship Sessions so it was less intimidating than it would have been at other times. Besides, once I was through the front door there was no going back.
The receptionist would have known straightaway that I was a perv – dirty mac, baggy wank-trousers, flat cap, goggle-eye glasses, obviously a big wanker. I also had my case full of soiled dirty books that goes everywhere with me.
Miss Donna was already engaged so I sat in a chair. The receptionist was very nice and spoke kindly to me, sensing that I was nervous and felt very inadequate being here in my perv outfit in the presence of two lovely girls. She knew I was a wanker obviously and was trying to make me feel it was alright, they didn’t mind at all.
There was also a TV repair man in there fixing it, and Miss Donna walked in and out in a short skirt and low-cut top, and Her ad didn’t lie. It seemed incredible to me that She would go out and about in public like that, though the TV man didn’t seem to take much notice. I’d paid my deposit fee and then I was shown into Miss Donna’s office, or studio. In fact there was a massage bed in there but I wasn’t going to have that obviously – I’m strictly look-don’t-touch.
Having seen how lovely and bosomy Miss Donna was, I was already erect, the prong sticking out the front of my wank-trousers as I waited breathlessly for Miss Donna to arrive. When She did She stood outside Her door saying there’d been a mistake – I’d asked to ‘see poses’. She wanted to give me my money back, saying She didn’t want to rip me off. I’m not sure what the problem was but I think She thought seeing poses was going to take half an hour or something, and there was only 10 minutes.
I stayed put, pleading with Her, and She could see I’d already put a damp patch at the tip of the bulge in my wank-trousers and She relented. She sat on Her bunk while I stood there, dutifully placing my case on the bench beside Her and opening it. It was of course full of dirty books and photos, and I absolutely love a Goddess seeing inside my perv case. She looked at some of the photos but didn’t touch any of the mags, as they were all stuffed with toilet paper – obviously this perv was a real wanker.
Now I’m in dream land, able to look openly at a bosomy Goddess in a low-cut top while my erect pulsating 4” is poking the front of my baggy trousers out. It’s very rare I can look with impunity at cleavage, it’s only normally in public places like a bar, and though I always find ways of watching discreetly till She makes me cum in my pants, there’s something very special about being able to ogle like this, knowing She’s going to see what happens to me as I gawp in perv delight and disbelief at the lovely sight that ALWAYS brings quick hands-free pants-spunk ecstasy.
And that’s just what happened of course. I had my hands through the holes in my mac pockets and pulling my wank-trousers back gently so there was enough pressure on my willy so it wouldn’t be painful when it spunked into my underpants all by itself. Just standing there, gawping at Her. She doesn’t mind, and looks at the photos of bare girls in my case. This is heaven. The spunk is rising. Miss Donna can see my face turning red, my breath coming in deep gasps.
The rest is a blur. I know I’m moaning and in less than half a minute She makes me start to pump into my underpants and trousers, shuddering and convulsing in time to the shots of spunk, right in front of Her. Ecstasy floods me in wave after wave as I thoroughly wet my pants before Her very eyes.
I’m subsiding and Miss Donna says something like “you must fancy me, that was so quick” and I’m able to mutter that I rarely get to see lovely cleavage like that. She closes my case while I stand there with a long streak of cum down the front of my already-stained wank-trousers. I love that moment – She’s made me cum in my pants and She can see the results of that, all over my trousers. She knows I’ve got to go home now all wet, though as I’m in my van no-one else will see. Except.
She says goodbye and I emerge into reception, pausing to say good bye to the receptionist who can see Pervert’s wet the whole front of his trousers. She’s very kind but She’s unable to stifle a brief laugh, but then says goodbye very nicely. I exit through the door, pulling my mac together so hide my wet patch, and wait there for 5 or 10 minutes.
I go back through the door, letting my mac swing open again and go to pick up the carrier bag I left behind a chair. “I forgot this” I tell them, pausing there for a full 2 or 3 minutes so they can see how my wet patch has spread now, me smelling the stench of cum wafting up. They simply smile and wait for me to leave.
I head quickly back to my van, taking the little cassette recorder out the carrier bag and winding it back. Breathlessly I press ‘play’, desperate to hear what the girls said about me when I’d gone. The recording’s not very good, though it’s an automatic mic, but in the bag behind the chair a few feet from them it’s muffled at best. (Years later with computer technology I’m able to clean it up and enhance it and now enjoy lovely wanks hearing Miss Donna’s voice).
Back then I pick up the conversation – the receptionist: “Did you see how he wet himself? Blimey!”
Miss Donna: “yeah, he was just looking, like for a few seconds, then he’s moan – well you’d have heard him - and he’s doing it, just like that, just looking!”
Receptionist: “takes all sorts!”
Miss Donna: “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a fella just do it, just looking like, not even wanking!”
Next day I phone Miss Donna to thank Her, just saying nice complimentary things, nothing rude, but still that’s enough to make me start to pump in my pants and my voice starts to choke. I hear Miss Donna saying to Her receptionist “he’s having a wank”, though of course I didn’t need to. I apologise and She says goodbye, very nicely.
A few days later I phone Her to ask if She has any photos of Her I can buy, and She says She’ll have a look. Then I book another appointment. This time She has a tight jumper on, looking like the bosomy Goddess She is, and when She arrives in Her studio where I’m waiting with my pathetic hard-on, She’s taken the jumper off so I can see Her cleavage in Her bra.
I should tell Her it would have been enough for me to gawp at Her in Her jumper, She’d make me cum in my pants in seconds, but I don’t have the nerve. Again I cum in my pants in less than a minute, while She chats about my photos. I make sure I display my wet patch as much as possible to both Her and Her receptionist, making sure they see it continuing to spread as the spunk soaks through my underpants and into my baggy absorbent wank-trousers, until it’s getting to the point where I’m outstaying my welcome, and I leave.
Next time I phone, Miss Donna has moved to a studio in another part of the country. I never got those photos of Her.
The receptionist would have known straightaway that I was a perv – dirty mac, baggy wank-trousers, flat cap, goggle-eye glasses, obviously a big wanker. I also had my case full of soiled dirty books that goes everywhere with me.
Miss Donna was already engaged so I sat in a chair. The receptionist was very nice and spoke kindly to me, sensing that I was nervous and felt very inadequate being here in my perv outfit in the presence of two lovely girls. She knew I was a wanker obviously and was trying to make me feel it was alright, they didn’t mind at all.
There was also a TV repair man in there fixing it, and Miss Donna walked in and out in a short skirt and low-cut top, and Her ad didn’t lie. It seemed incredible to me that She would go out and about in public like that, though the TV man didn’t seem to take much notice. I’d paid my deposit fee and then I was shown into Miss Donna’s office, or studio. In fact there was a massage bed in there but I wasn’t going to have that obviously – I’m strictly look-don’t-touch.
Having seen how lovely and bosomy Miss Donna was, I was already erect, the prong sticking out the front of my wank-trousers as I waited breathlessly for Miss Donna to arrive. When She did She stood outside Her door saying there’d been a mistake – I’d asked to ‘see poses’. She wanted to give me my money back, saying She didn’t want to rip me off. I’m not sure what the problem was but I think She thought seeing poses was going to take half an hour or something, and there was only 10 minutes.
I stayed put, pleading with Her, and She could see I’d already put a damp patch at the tip of the bulge in my wank-trousers and She relented. She sat on Her bunk while I stood there, dutifully placing my case on the bench beside Her and opening it. It was of course full of dirty books and photos, and I absolutely love a Goddess seeing inside my perv case. She looked at some of the photos but didn’t touch any of the mags, as they were all stuffed with toilet paper – obviously this perv was a real wanker.
Now I’m in dream land, able to look openly at a bosomy Goddess in a low-cut top while my erect pulsating 4” is poking the front of my baggy trousers out. It’s very rare I can look with impunity at cleavage, it’s only normally in public places like a bar, and though I always find ways of watching discreetly till She makes me cum in my pants, there’s something very special about being able to ogle like this, knowing She’s going to see what happens to me as I gawp in perv delight and disbelief at the lovely sight that ALWAYS brings quick hands-free pants-spunk ecstasy.
And that’s just what happened of course. I had my hands through the holes in my mac pockets and pulling my wank-trousers back gently so there was enough pressure on my willy so it wouldn’t be painful when it spunked into my underpants all by itself. Just standing there, gawping at Her. She doesn’t mind, and looks at the photos of bare girls in my case. This is heaven. The spunk is rising. Miss Donna can see my face turning red, my breath coming in deep gasps.
The rest is a blur. I know I’m moaning and in less than half a minute She makes me start to pump into my underpants and trousers, shuddering and convulsing in time to the shots of spunk, right in front of Her. Ecstasy floods me in wave after wave as I thoroughly wet my pants before Her very eyes.
I’m subsiding and Miss Donna says something like “you must fancy me, that was so quick” and I’m able to mutter that I rarely get to see lovely cleavage like that. She closes my case while I stand there with a long streak of cum down the front of my already-stained wank-trousers. I love that moment – She’s made me cum in my pants and She can see the results of that, all over my trousers. She knows I’ve got to go home now all wet, though as I’m in my van no-one else will see. Except.
She says goodbye and I emerge into reception, pausing to say good bye to the receptionist who can see Pervert’s wet the whole front of his trousers. She’s very kind but She’s unable to stifle a brief laugh, but then says goodbye very nicely. I exit through the door, pulling my mac together so hide my wet patch, and wait there for 5 or 10 minutes.
I go back through the door, letting my mac swing open again and go to pick up the carrier bag I left behind a chair. “I forgot this” I tell them, pausing there for a full 2 or 3 minutes so they can see how my wet patch has spread now, me smelling the stench of cum wafting up. They simply smile and wait for me to leave.
I head quickly back to my van, taking the little cassette recorder out the carrier bag and winding it back. Breathlessly I press ‘play’, desperate to hear what the girls said about me when I’d gone. The recording’s not very good, though it’s an automatic mic, but in the bag behind the chair a few feet from them it’s muffled at best. (Years later with computer technology I’m able to clean it up and enhance it and now enjoy lovely wanks hearing Miss Donna’s voice).
Back then I pick up the conversation – the receptionist: “Did you see how he wet himself? Blimey!”
Miss Donna: “yeah, he was just looking, like for a few seconds, then he’s moan – well you’d have heard him - and he’s doing it, just like that, just looking!”
Receptionist: “takes all sorts!”
Miss Donna: “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a fella just do it, just looking like, not even wanking!”
Next day I phone Miss Donna to thank Her, just saying nice complimentary things, nothing rude, but still that’s enough to make me start to pump in my pants and my voice starts to choke. I hear Miss Donna saying to Her receptionist “he’s having a wank”, though of course I didn’t need to. I apologise and She says goodbye, very nicely.
A few days later I phone Her to ask if She has any photos of Her I can buy, and She says She’ll have a look. Then I book another appointment. This time She has a tight jumper on, looking like the bosomy Goddess She is, and when She arrives in Her studio where I’m waiting with my pathetic hard-on, She’s taken the jumper off so I can see Her cleavage in Her bra.
I should tell Her it would have been enough for me to gawp at Her in Her jumper, She’d make me cum in my pants in seconds, but I don’t have the nerve. Again I cum in my pants in less than a minute, while She chats about my photos. I make sure I display my wet patch as much as possible to both Her and Her receptionist, making sure they see it continuing to spread as the spunk soaks through my underpants and into my baggy absorbent wank-trousers, until it’s getting to the point where I’m outstaying my welcome, and I leave.
Next time I phone, Miss Donna has moved to a studio in another part of the country. I never got those photos of Her.
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- 0
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