The Hand Maiden…1

She was the kind of girl you immediately noticed…beautiful, with an open smiling face and a body that made you think of sin. John looked around furtively, hoping he hadn’t said his thoughts out aloud. He watched her sway towards the bar, her hips moving rhythmically in a slow dance and all he could think of was smashing her up against the wall for a quickie – hard and fast.

He downed his scotch in one gulp making his eyes water – momentarily clearing the vision of naked bodies writhing together from his head.

He turned his attention back to the lady, now seated at the bar with a bored look on her face, some drink in her hand and a would be honey tapper giving her some lines she’d probably heard a hundred times.

John wished he could be bold like such men but he wasn’t. He didn’t have the looks or the money to be bold. He only had enough to wish…and wish he often did. No one knew why he liked to choose the corner seat at the dark side of the cafe. But the reason was simple, he was hidden from the light and could observe others as much as he liked. He liked to observe the women and on some special nights he’d liked to pull out his dingus and wank while looking at them.

Tonite was one of such special nights.

Carefully, casually he undid his fly…brought out his dingus and started stroking it as he turned his attention back to the beautiful lady at the bar. Her breasts had a heavy look to it and he pictured himself squashing them together in his hands as he pleasured himself faster.

She must have felt herself being watched, because suddenly she was looking right at him. John looked back, helplessly caught between the throes of his oncoming seed and the captivating gaze in the woman’s eyes. She licked her lips and uncontrollably he found himself spurting his spunk all over the floor, forgetting to bring out the small napkin he used for catching his seed before it spilled out of him.

Still her gaze held his…and suddenly she got up and started walking towards him…

The Hand Maiden II…

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