Girl on the Net

There are plenty of things in life I love right now, which I’ll inevitably tire of in the future; painting weird patterns on my nails, eating coleslaw directly from the tub, occasional incompetent gardening. But there is one thing I will never ever tire of: hearing new masturbation tricks.

The following story was told to me by a smoking hot stoner guy – the same guy who taught me blowbacks could be a form of breath play. I’m going to tell it to you in his own words, as closely as I can remember. If you would like to picture him speaking, understand that however you see his face, you must give him big hands and broad shoulders: strong, hefty arms in a loose t-shirt. Picture it now: imagine him reaching down to grip his cock.

Got it? Then let’s begin.

“Yeah,” he says. “I think weed does make me horny. It depends on the type, of course. But I think it’s mainly the association: I mostly used to get stoned in my old flat, where I lived alone, and I could spend long evenings smoking and wanking in the lounge.”

“Oooh, yeah. I guess that’s a pretty hot association.” And as I think about it I remember a previous conversation, in which he told me how he used to do naked sit-ups in front of porn. One, two, three, four, five sit-ups, then reward himself with a toke of his joint and a quick rub of his growing erection, before settling back into a few more. Not recommended by personal trainers, but definitely appreciated by pervs like me.

The story he tells me this time, though, is even better.

“Sometimes,” he tells me softly, fully understanding the importance of his words, “I used to combine edging and smoking – building the high so it’d be stronger as I came.”

Brief pause while my legs start to go weak and I feel my cunt getting slick in readiness.

“How…?” I clear my throat and start again. “How so?”

And he does exactly what I hoped he would: he shows me.

Picking up the nearly-finished joint, he places the end calmly between his lips, and closes his eyes as he takes a deep, warm drag of it. Puffing up his chest and pulling back his shoulders to take a full lungful of smoke.

Then, swiftly, he moves his hand away from his face, clenching the butt in the curve of his fingers, and places his other hand in front of his crotch. Miming a vigorous, hunched wanking gesture, face screwed in concentration and eyes now slightly open, looking to the ceiling as his face goes red.

He’s still holding his breath, and I’m watching.

Mesmerised by the tight grip on his miming right hand, and the gentle way he holds the butt of the joint in his left, I’m standing in dripping silence, wet like I’ve never been before, picturing him doing this for real, right in front of me. Imagining being invisible in the room as I get to watch him do this alone – naked from the waist down, sleepy and calmly stoned, yet jerking off with the urgency of someone who needs to come.

Right.

Fucking.

Now.

Holding his breath, feeling the high, and racing to get there before he has to breathe again.

When he reaches the fake climax of the mime, he stares me straight in the eye, pursing his lips and pushing out a stream of smoke in one long gush. In the back of his throat he makes the noise I know he makes when he comes – a muffled grunt of satisfaction.

Unngh.

And he smiles at me.

“Like that,” he says, eyes sparkling, and he hands me the joint and stares straight at me.

And I have to sit down before I fall.

While my regular illustrator is away, I’ve a few brilliant people drawing gorgeous things for the blog. Guest art for this blog post is by the fantastic Ms Slide – you can buy prints of her artwork over here at RedBubble.