Edith

A neighbor nurse teaches a male the meaning of guided masturbation

Until four months ago, I shared the attitude of many other
men concerning the handjob. It was something to settle for when
"real" sex wasn't possible for one reason or another. My opinion
has drastically changed, thanks to Edith.

Edith is a nurse and a neighbor. One Tuesday she dropped in
to ask me for some help with her insurance claim. Tuesday is my
day off from my job as a claims adjuster. I had just gotten up,
so all I had on was a short bathrobe. Edith and I sat on the
sofa going over her papers. Her thigh was pressing against mine
and the smell of her recently shampooed hair was driving me up
the wall. Before long I had an erection, which I tried to
conceal under the papers on my lap, but I didn't fool Edith even
a little.

The next thing I knew she was gathering up her insurance
forms and saying, "Look, I don't see how you can concentrate on
my problems in that condition, so let's take care of yours
first." She took my hand and led me into the kitchen, where she
unbelted my robe and whisked it off me. I could feel my face
getting hot and red as I stood there nude, my erection angled up,
in front of my gorgeous neighbor.

She told me to lie on my back on the floor with my hands
locked behind my head and my legs folded Indian-style. I obeyed
instantly, because I didn't want to blow what I thought was my
first opportunity to screw Edith, something I'd been dying to do
ever since I first met her three years before.

Edith said, "I don't want you to move, okay?" She began
searching the kitchen cabinets until she found a bottle of corn
oil. Then she knelt on the floor by my hip and sat back on her
heels. She filled her hand with oil and began rubbing my belly
and thighs with both hands. Almost automatically I reached out
and touched her thigh, which was covered by tight blue jeans she
wore. She also wore a tight white t-shirt and no bra, so she
looked delicious.

Instantly Edith took her hands off me and said, "Keep that
position and don't touch me again." She was very serious, so I
clasped my hands behind my head once again. Then she resumed her
oily massage, which now included my scrotum.

As I got more and more excited, I would wiggle my hips,
trying to bring my throbbing erection into contact with Edith's
hands. Each time I'd move even a tiny bit, she would stop
whatever delightful thing she was doing and take her hands away. 
Finally, at long last, Edith filled her hand with oil once again
and curled her fingers around my now-purple shaft. I couldn't
help gasping when she touched my cock for the first time. She
used one hand or two hands, a tight grip or loose grip, rapid
strokes or slow strokes, even one-way strokes -- just upward or
just down. Whenever I was close to the brink, Edith would stop
in the nick of time.

After about an hour, I was so close I could taste it, so I
thrust just once in an effort to gain from Edith's hands that
tiny bit of extra friction I needed to open fire. Edith
immediately stopped everything and glared at me, saying, "Look, I
want you to keep perfectly still so if you try that again I'll
walk out and leave you like this." Then she resumed the sweet
torture for another hour, during which I nearly went out of my
mind.

Finally she refilled her right hand with oil, gripped my
cock and began purposeful, regular, medium-rate strokes. My mind
raced. Was this going to be it? Was she going to let me squirt? 
Or was she going to stop me again at the brink? I had mixed
feelings, or course. I desperately wanted to come off, but I
hated to have our scene come to and end. The choice wasn't mine
to make, of course. Edith was in complete charge, and it soon
became evident that she was going to let me get off this time.
When I ejaculated it was with a power that scared me. It
was truly brain-busting and seemed to last for many minutes. 
Edith must have been impressed by my orgasm, because I could hear
her exclamations as I was shooting. "Wow!" "Oooh!" "Oh my
God!"

I couldn't move when it was over. Edith's insurance forms
were forgotten. She washed her hands and asked me if she could
come over the following Tuesday. Of course I said I'd love to
see her. And we've done the same scene once a week for the past
four months.

Edith stays fully dressed, and I'm not allowed to touch her,
let alone kiss her. On two occasions I didn't get off. The
first was the time I was half out of my mind with lust for Edith,
after being teased for almost two hours. I touched her bare
thigh, under her skirt, which had ridden way up when she knelt
down. I immediately regretted doing that because Edith walked
out, saying, "Well, I hope you have more self-control next week." 
My begging did no good at all. Then, just two weeks ago, I
couldn't stand it anymore, so I began rapidly thrusting my hips
up and down, trying to get off. Again, Edith took off, this time
without a word, and I didn't come that day.

I long to strip Edith, kiss her all over and make love to
her, but I know this will never happen. She won't tell me why
she will only masturbate me and why she won't let me budge an
inch while she is doing it. I even begged her to at least
undress to the waist while she is doing it, but no way. All she
said was, "Look, if you don't like what we're doing, just say so
and I won't come over anymore. Otherwise, just relax and enjoy
it, all right?" To which I could only reply, with a sigh, "All
right."