Just beat it, beat it
Michael Jackson, Beat it
Beat it, beat it, beat it
I was just going to leave the post with those lyrics but I have to share my relationship with his masturbation.
When we first got together I pushed a completely ridiculous rule in his direction. As we didn’t live together I didn’t want him masturbating when we were apart. It was a completely selfish idea. It wasn’t so much I didn’t want him to get pleasure from someone that wasn’t me, I could pretend he would only ever think of me. It was I didn’t want him to waste a drop of his jizz, I wanted every single drop either on or in me. It was a ridiculous rule and didn’t last before I came to my senses, I couldn’t last those nights without masturbating, so why should he?!
Going forward, we’ve never really masturbated whilst in the same house, or at least we didn’t. We’ll watch each other and use it as a way to turn each other on, we’ve even masturbated for each other over webcam. In fact I much prefer masturbating via webcam than i do being watched in person. Historically I have my own issues and feel uncomfortable masturbating with others around. However, I have just recently discovered we both often do masturbate whilst we’re both in the same house, most likely at the same time and yet neither of us will openly say to the other ‘back in a bit, I just need a quick wank’.
I do have a bit of a thing about watching him or imagining him wanking though. I’d love to sneakily catch him but I know how much I’d hate that so I’d never watch without his consent. But there is definitely something that would get me going, hearing the wet slurping sounds coming from the next room, hearing his fist furiously pumping his cock, hearing his breathing getting sharper and his tell tale moans.
Most of the time I can work out that he’s had one in the morning after I’ve left for work. He leaves the pillows propped up in a certain way! Lately, however, I’ve been getting an extra clue, he often leaves out his OffBeat sleeve (or wanky tube as it’s affectionately known) in the bathroom with the bottle of lube.
As I’m often home first it gives my mind a chance to imagine watching and wondering what or whom he was thinking about. Was he thinking of me? My lips around his cock? Or was he thinking about someone else, whilst I was restrained and made to watch? Perhaps I don’t enter his thoughts at all, I’m left wondering what delicious fantasy he got off to.