An adult stories – Face Cream by Torchlusspanik_2,Torchlusspanik_2 Beth was gorgeous. That evening, she was still wearing her work outfit – a tight-fitting dark grey minidress that barely covered her arse when she was standing up, never mind sitting, and smooth black tights which showed off her long skinny legs to perfection. The dress clung to waist and her pert B-cup breasts. She was sat opposite me on an armchair also occupied by her boyfriend, Andy; she was sat in his lap, leaning back against one arm with her legs over the other. Her inhibitions had lessened as the wine had flowed, so that I was being treated to more and more prolonged views of her thighs as her hem rode up (or, more accurately, fell down as she raised her legs) and forgot to readjust it to protect her modesty. The thin black material stretched across her thighs, revealing the warp and weft, and I glimpsed an occasional flash of red knicker elastic beneath the control top of her tights.
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, trying to change the position of my cock so that it wasn’t painfully trapped pointing down the leg of my jeans without letting the three other people in the room know what I was doing. Not that I would have minded Steve, the huge rugby player sprawled on the sofa to my right, know what was happening — we’d watched a couple of pornos with our former housemate Colin after the getting back from the pub the worse for wear. I mean, we hadn’t got our dicks out and started wanking or anything weird like that. We’d just been — you know – blokes watching porn.
No. I was trying to hide my situation partly from the couple sat in the armchair opposite. Andy and Beth had moved into the large double room at the front of the house when Colin bought his own place. They were a perfectly matched couple: both tall, skinny and athletic, both incredibly smart, both teachers, both from nice middle-class families in the Home Counties. Like Colin, they had moved into this dump while trying to save up for a deposit for a house, renting somewhere cheap and vaguely cheerful in the meantime.
Which is why, on a spring Friday evening, I was sat watching Beth sitting in James’ lap drinking cheap red wine. And watching her that had made my cock hard.
“Carl?”
Steve’s voice bought me back into the room with a start. I looked over and saw him grinning at me –it was obvious that Beth wasn’t the only one forgetting herself after a few glasses of plonk and that he’d caught me lecherously staring up our young housemate’s skirt.
“Hmmm?” I asked, non-committedly.
“If you could physically change one thing about yourself, what would it be?”
I took a sip of wine and thought for a few seconds. “Lose the beer belly… be a couple of inches taller…. Maybe be a little less hairy….”
“Some women like a hairy man,” Beth chipped in. I desperately hoped that she was one of them.
“And what about you, Miss Shapwick?” Steve asked mischievously.
When I said earlier that Beth was gorgeous, she wasn’t without her faults; she was gorgeous, but she would never make it as a model. Her hair, for example, was a sort of mousy brown and would never feature in a shampoo commercial for its lusciousness. When she wore it down, it did do a fantastic job of hiding her sticky-out-ears which I was sure she would have been teased about as a child. She wore it down a lot, apart from when she was running (a daily occurrence) when she wore it in a high ponytail. I looked across and hoped that she wouldn’t say that she wanted bigger boobs — I had spent many an evening looking at them through her tops, imagining sucking on her hard little nipples, seeing how much of her breasts I could fit into my mouth at once.
“Weeeellll….” she thought. “I’d like my skin to be better.” I breathed a sigh of relief. “Some days it’s fine and then the next day it can be all rashy and spotty and there doesn’t seem to be any reason. I’ve got a wedding to go to in a couple of weeks and I wish I could guarantee my face would look lovely in the photo’s.”
“Your face always looks lovely,” Andy smiled at her.
“Awwww, thanks!” she replied and gave him a peck on the cheek.
“You know what’s good for skin, don’t you?” Steve asked, a grin on his face. I think we all knew what coming, so to speak, but didn’t have time to stop the punchline. “Sperm!” he guffawed and lent back laughing at his own joke.
“I do my best!” Andy replied and got a punch in the arm for his efforts.
“And what about you Steve?” Beth asked, not at all put out by the crude turn the conversation had taken. “What would you change about yourself?”
Steve swung his legs off the sofa and suddenly looked serious. “Well,” he started, gloomily looking at his hands and rubbing them together, anxiously. “If you must know… I do have one thing that I would change…. It’s made my life a living hell at times…. I wish…. well….” We all learned in expectantly. “I wish I had a smaller penis!” We all groaned and leant back in our seats. “Just the 9 inches would do!” he smiled.
“And on that sour note,” Andy said, “It’s time for bed.”
*********************
I had a troubled night’s sleep, waking intermittently, and every time I woke, I had an image of Beth drifting through my mind. Beth as she was sat last night, flashing her legs; Beth standing with her back to me, lifting her skirt to reveal her pert bum, skimpy red thong visible through her black pantyhose; Beth with my cock in her mouth; Beth, her brown hair spread over a white pillow pushing her tiny tits together whilst I straddled her naked torso and wanked my cock; Beth with her eyes glued together and face covered in huge wads of cum, huge wads of my cum…
I woke early with a raging hard-on. I was tempted to take matters into my own hands there and then, but I had a whole day of doing nothing but watching sport and porn ahead of me and decided to pace myself a little. Who knew what the day would bring?
When my morning wood had subsided a bit, I slumped out of bed and headed, scratching and yawning, downstairs to the kitchen in search of coffee and breakfast. I pushed open the kitchen door and found Beth already standing in the open patio doors, eating a bowl of what would undoubtedly be healthy and utterly tasteless granola. If I thought I had woken early, she had clearly beaten me by a long stretch — her sweat stained running gear clung to every inch of her lythe young body. I subconsciously glanced down, hoping that my cock was behaving itself and not rising to the occasion as it had last night.
“Morning!” she beaned at me, turning around in a way that made the high ponytail whip around on her shoulders.
“Hnnngghh,” I grunted in reply, turning the kettle on.
Beth remained standing in the window as I made myself a coffee and sat at the dining room table behind her, admiring her arse in the tight black bottoms she was wearing. There was a definite ridge where her bum met her legs, and a gap between her thighs that you could definitely slip a finger between even when she was standing straight with her feet together. Silhouetted against the morning light like this her figure was even clearer.
Eventually she finished her breakfast and turned to face me. Months of practice made be focus on her smiling face rather than her tits or groin, but man was it hard to do.
“No Andy this morning?” I asked. They normally ran together, doing 10k quicker than I could do 5.
“He’s away this weekend — Duke of Edinburgh — remember?” I vaguely remembered a conversation about it; it came as no surprise that wholesome Andy would give up his weekend to take a bunch of entitled middle-class kids camping rather than spending his time fucking his sexy girlfriend senseless. Beth walked over to the sink, her arse cheeks gently wobbling in the tight lycra, and washed her bowl in the sink before filling a glass of water and returning to sit at the table with me.
“Errr…” she started nervously. “What do you think about what Steve said last night?”
“Naahh,” I replied, taking a sip of coffee. “No way he’s got a 10-inch dick.”
Beth smiled. “Not that,” she said. “The…. other thing.” She blushed slightly at this point but still managed to look me in the eye. “About my spots and… skincare. I’ve been to the doctors and been prescribed cream and pills, but nothing has ever worked so may be if there was an…alternative…” I was impressed — she’d managed to talk about something very sexual without mentioning sperm at all.
I shrugged non-committedly. “No idea,” I said, although I was fairly sure it was complete bollocks. “I mean, it’s supposed to be high in protein and stuff, and I suppose it easily applied. I guess it can’t do any harm trying it.” A small pause. “I bet Andy wouldn’t complain!”
“I bet he won’t!” Beth smiled. “He didn’t last night anyway!” She grinned and blushed and I hardened again, the memories of last night flooding back.
“Not sure about how much you’d need though,” I joined in. “I mean, is he up for a daily application? And you’d have to think about quantity too…”
“Maybe I ought to go online and do some research before he gets back!” she smiled and pushed her chair back. “Going for a shower,” she announced and left the room before I could give any warning about what to enter in the search engine.
*********************
I spent the rest of the day feeling fat and stupid, and determined to do something about both. I was single and the sight of Beth made me realise I had no hope of getting a girlfriend if I spent my weekend jerking off to porn and slobbing on the sofa. I got myself ready and headed out for a swim before buying some new trainers, grooming products, shirts and (optimistically) a 12 pack of condoms. I even managed to eat healthily and buy a couple of books before returning home just in time to see Final Score, after which I showered and cooked another healthy meal.
The house was empty when I got back (Andy was away for the weekend, Steve was off playing rugby somewhere up North and wouldn’t be back until the early hours of Sunday morning) and I was looking forward to having the TV to myself for the evening when Beth returned. I was surprised — I assumed she would have taken advantage of her weekend of freedom and arranged to meet up with some girlfriends. After she had cooked herself something incredibly healthy, we cracked open a bottle of red, and settled we settled down to watch a film on Netflix, Beth stretched out on the sofa and me in the same chair as the previous night.
I waited until we’d both had a couple of large glasses and were most of the way through the first bottle before I started the conversation that had been going through my head all day.
“So how did the internet search go?” I asked innocently.
“Christ, “she spluttered, “There’s some weird stuff out there!” She grinned at me. “Got a few tips though!”
“So how often do you need to apply it to make it work?” I asked, ready for the rebuttal that it was all bollocks, if you’ll excuse the pun.
“Daily,” came the completely unexpected reply. “According to one site. And you need a fair amount of it too!”
“Do you think Andy’s up to the job?” I asked.
Beth stretched her legs out, poking her toes towards me. The skin-tight jeans she was wearing were not as sexy as her skirts and tights or her running gear, but I could still see the shape of her legs, and her back arched slightly, pushing her tits out. She was wearing a fluffy white jumper which slipped off her shoulders revealing the straps of a white vest top and bra beneath. Her hair was loose, down over her shoulders, which didn’t happen very often.
“He’d love to give it a go! But I think anyone would find it hard to produce that much sperm that often. Don’t you have to rest every now and again to let the reserves build up?”
“Hmmm,” I replied, thinking back to the 3-day wank marathon I’d had when I’d first got unsupervised access to the internet when I was 18, at the end of which it almost hurt to ejaculate. “You could always out-source some of it.”
“Out-source? You mean…”
“I bet there’s some bloke at work that would jump at the chance!” I interrupted.
“Carl, I work in a small village primary school. The only man that works there is the caretaker and he’s 73. I think if I asked him to cum on my face, he’d probably have a heart attack.”
“Yeah, but what a way to go!” I grinned. “You could advertise on the internet!” I continued, “Or there’s supposed to be a dogging site just out of town!”
“I am not,” she said firmly, throwing a cushion at me for emphasis, “Going to let complete strangers wank themselves off onto my face!” I was pleased to see that she was still grinning wildly at me despite the blush that was spreading over her cheeks: I’d been worried that I’d pushed my luck a tad too far.
We both turned our attention back to the movie and drank more wine, letting the elephant in the room fester in the corner. One of us would have to mention it, it was just a case of waiting to see who would crack first. If it was me, I ran the risk of getting it wrong and being labelled a pervert, which would make living in the same house somewhat difficult; if it was her, I’d be a very happy man indeed.
I lasted 30 seconds.
“What about people who you know?” I asked, still watching the TV.
“Caaaarrrllll! Nooooooo!” she squealed, although I was glad to see she was still laughing. Another 30 seconds crept past. “Although….” She paused and looked in my direction.
“Although?”
“Maybe if there was some way of…. you know…. someone I know supplying the semen for me to use, I’d be very grateful.” She maintained eye contact with me throughout this entire sentence, and for yet another long pause after it.
“So,” I started carefully, “Let me get this straight — you want me to provide you with my sperm so that you can use it as a face cream?”
She smiled again. “That’s about right!” she grinned. “Oh, come on Carl! I’m desperate! I just want one set of pictures of me where I’m not covered in fucking spots or a rash. I’ve tried everything! I just want to be pretty for once.”
“Shit, Beth, you’re gorgeous!” I said, and I meant it.
“Ok — prettier,” she relented, blushing again. “Listen… I know I can trust you and you’ve been a great housemate and it’s not as if we’d be doing anything wrong or I’d be cheating on Andy.”
I couldn’t believe it. She was serious. We looked at each other for a few seconds before she broke eye contact and mumbled “Sorry, forget it…” and made as if to get up. I sprang to my feet, palms out, and shouted “No! I’ll do it!”
“Really?”
“How long until this wedding?” I asked.
“Two weeks today,” she grinned.
“Ok — you can have my sperm on demand,” I said, “On one condition.”
She raised her eyebrows quizzically.
“I get to watch you apply it.”
She paused briefly before thrusting out a hand for me to shake. “Deal!” she exclaimed and grinned again.
*********************
I don’t think I’d ever gone upstairs quicker than I did that day; I left Beth laughing behind me and ran before she changed her mind. As soon as I got in my room, I pulled my trousers down and sat in front of my computer, cock in hand. I loaded up the first porno I could find (a woman in her 20’s pretending to be a hotel manager assuaging an unhappy guest) and wanked myself as I watched her large saggy tits swing as she was taken from behind. I’d watched it before and had no idea why it turned me on so much — the woman wasn’t particularly beautiful or anything, but her tits were fantastic, and I loved the look on her face which was a mixture of boredom and resignation. And the facial at the end was huge.
I was getting close to my own climax (let’s face it, Beth talking dirty had turned me on just as much as the porn) when I realised my schoolboy error — nothing to catch the cum in! I yanked open the desk drawer and found the packet of condoms I’d bought earlier. I squeezed the air out of the tip and rolled it down over my dick before continuing to pump my cock in my fist. The hotel scene finished, and I clicked on a blue haired amateur sucking cock in a glory hole instead… I lasted until the third anonymous cock came over her face before I spasmed and filled the condom with spunk.
I stood up and carefully removed the condom, being careful not to spill any, pulled my trousers back up and headed back downstairs. Beth was still on the sofa where I’d left her. She’d obviously used the ten minutes I’d been gone well as the bottle of red I’d left was considerably emptier and her face was considerably more flushed. She had also put her hair up into her running ponytail and removed her fluffy jumper, revealing a tight white vest that clung to her boobs and an unusual (for her) expanse of chest; I glanced down and saw a constellation of freckles and moles, dark against her pale skin. As I walked in, she moved onto the edge of the seat and looked at me, noticing my glance at the neatly folded sweater next to the sofa.
“It’s a bugger to clean,” she said, looking back at me. Her eyes were large and almond shaped, the pupil a sort of chestnut brown. “I don’t want it to get stained,” she explained. “Have you got…?” She left the question hanging in the air.
I thrust the condom towards her a little too enthusiastically and almost hit her in the face with the cum-filled teat.
“Eeeuuurrrgghhh! That’s been on your cock!” She seemed genuinely disgusted, which I thought was a little odd as she was about to smear the contents all over her face.
“What were you expecting me to do it in?” I asked, puzzled.
“I don’t know…. one of those little whiskey glasses?”
“I drink out of those!”
“Well,” she giggled, regaining her composure, “We would have washed it!”
“So how do you want to do this?” I asked, swinging the condom around in front of her. “Do you want me to empty it onto your face?”
She shook her head. “I’d lose loads of it that way. Here….” She cupped both hands in front of her.
“Sure?” I asked.
“Sure,” she replied.
Holding the tip of the condom, I let the opening fall into her left palm and watched as my cum flowed into it, creating a pool of watery spunk. Gripping it between my thumb and forefinger, I squeezed the last few drops out before dropping the used sheath onto the table and sitting back down in my armchair.
Beth looked down at her palms. I thought she was going to back out, but she suddenly lowered her face into her cupped hands, much like I would do when shaving, and proceeded to rub my cum into her face, smearing jizz into her cheeks and forehead, rubbing into her chin and finally using two fingers to rub her nose. When she finished, she looked up at me. She’d done a good job: her face glistened with wetness and there were only a couple of clumps of cum visible, both in her left eyebrow. Despite the fact that I’d only ejaculated a few minutes previously, I felt my cock harden again as I looked at her.
“It smells of rubber,” Beth giggled. “And cum. But mainly rubber.” She looked up at me and smiled. “I smell of cum and rubber!” she grinned. “How long do you think I should leave it on for?”
“Overnight?” I guessed. “I mean, probably as long as you can to get the maximum benefit.”
“Overnight it is!”
She stood up and bent over to give me a peck on the cheek, then began to edge somewhat unsteadily towards the door. She paused and looked back at the table. “Can you…. take care of the…. evidence?” She paused. “Goodnight!”
She went to bed, leaving me nursing an erection and wondering how far down this particular slippery slope I could persuade her to go.
*********************
I didn’t see Beth the next day; I didn’t see either Steve or Andy either for that matter. I’d done a bit of swapping around of shifts weeks ago so that I could work all day Sunday and pull a double shift on Tuesday so that I could have Monday off, and after work I’d gone to see a film and to the pub with some mates. By the time I got home, the other three were long tucked up in bed.
I had a lie in on Monday, staying in bed as everyone else went to work. I’d chosen this particular day because I knew that Steve would not be back until late (he had some sort of training event in Bristol and was booked on the last train home) and Beth and Andy would be out all day — one of the advantages of living with teachers was that you could virtually guarantee their absence until 4.00 or 5.00pm.
I had the house to myself.
More to the point, I had the house to myself and none of the doors had locks on them.
I waited until 9.00 before I got out of bed, stripped naked and let myself into Beth and Andys bedroom. I know what I did was creepy and perverted, but in my defence I’m a perverted little creep. This wasn’t the first time I’d done this either to Beth (just after she moved in I’d almost been caught by Steve, hence today’s cautious approach) or to female housemates in general.
I stood in the doorway and breathed in Beth’s scent. The room was, as I’d expected, immaculate — the bed was made, what few clothes not in drawers were neatly folded on a chair, books neatly placed on bedside table, shoes in pairs next to the door. I started by opening Beth’s wardrobe. Her dresses were hanging neatly and I ran my hands through them, taking the hem of one and wrapping it around my cock for a few seconds. The trick was to make sure that everything went back into its right place; Beth was obsessively neat and would spot anything out of place. I shook the dresses so that the one I’d pulled out fell back into place. I turned my attention to the bottom of the wardrobe, which was full of shoes, some of Andys but mainly Beth’s. If I had been hard pressed, I might have decided to wank off in a pair of trainers or onto a pair of sensible black school shoes, but I had bigger fish to fry.
First stop was the laundry basket. I wasn’t hopeful; I assumed that Beth would have spent her free Sunday doing household chores and working, but my luck was in. The sides of the cloth basket were bulging and having rifled through a lot of Andy’s T-shirts and socks I struck gold — a white bra, a grey sweaty running vest and, balled up near the bottom, the soft black tights she had been wearing on Friday complete with red silk knickers still inside. The bra was nothing special (I already knew she was 32A and the bra itself was boring) but the knickers were great, and I rubbed the silky material up and down my cock a couple of times. The tights were the best find though. I put my hand inside and began to wank myself with the soft material. This early in the morning, I knew I could cum in them, wash and dry them and still have them back in the laundry basket by the time Beth got home. Could I cum in the bra without anyone noticing? Possibly…
Now that I’d found something to wank with, I wanted something to wank about. I padded over to what I knew to be Beth’s chest of drawers and gently opened the top draw to reveal her neatly folded lingerie. Mostly more boring everyday stuff — white bras, grey knickers, trainer socks, black tights — but in the back corner was the racy stuff. I carefully lifted out a skimpy bra made of sheer black material through which I could clearly see my fingers and a matching pair of tiny knickers. There was a neatly folded set of expensive hold up stockings, the kind with a wide elasticated lacy bit at the top which make a woman’s thighs look good rather than two rubber bands which squeezed to hard in one place and made them bulge in odd places and invariably fell down. An unopened pair of fishnet tights. Something red and lacy that would barely cover her. And underneath that, a 6-inch vibrator complete with clit stimulator.
I laid the underwear out on top of the bed where it contrasted sharply with the crisp white duvet cover and headed to Beth’s bedside cabinet. The top drawer was reassuringly messy, filled with hair clips, scrunchies, a packet of contraceptive pills and a half empty bottle of lube which I gladly liberated. I also had a quick search of Andy’s side of the bed in the hope of finding an SD card full pornographic pictures which I could steal, but there was nothing.
With that, I was ready.
*********************
By three o-clock I was spent. An itinerary of my day would have looked something like this:
10.00 — 10.30: Masturbate using worn tights and red panties whilst imaging Beth wearing sexy underwear. Ejaculate into tights.
10.30 — 11.00 Wash tights, Have late breakfast.
11.00 — 11.45 Watch porn. Use hair band as an impromptu Arab Strap.
11.45 — 12.15 Use vibrator to stimulate erection and massage arsehole. Use lube while wanking. Ejaculate onto stomach.
12.15 — 12.45 Lunch.
12.45 — 2.00 Watch more porn.
2.00 — 2.05 Ejaculate into Beth’s trainer. Leave to soak into insole.
2.05 — 2.30 Pack sexy underwear back into drawer as carefully as possible. Return used underwear (including now dry tights) into laundry basket.
2.30 — 2.45 Search room again for erotic pictures on SD cards or USB sticks. Find nothing.
2.45 — 2.55 Check to make sure everything is in its place.
And not a moment too soon — at 3.05 my phone pinged, and I stared at a text message from Beth. “Coming home early, back at 3.30. Have a glass ready?” Followed by a spurting aubergine emoji which left me in no doubt what she wanted.
I looked down at my shrivelled dick in despair, turned on my laptop, and began to wank again.
*********************
“There’s… not as much as last time.”
Beth was right. Even taking into account the different sized receptacles, there was definitely less jizz in the glass than there had been in the condom. But what could I say? Well, if you weren’t so damn sexy I wouldn’t have spent the day wanking myself off at the thought of fucking you. Oh, and by the way, your running shoes might smell a bit spermy.
“Errr… I’m sorry… I…errr…. got lucky last night….”
Beth’s face lit up. “Oh, yes? Anyone we know?”
“Errr… no,” I mumbled, “Just…. someone at the pub…. and…. I wasn’t all that…. you know…. turned on when you texted….” Although I would have been if you’d sent me a selfie looking like that I thought. She looked gorgeous. Instead of the normal minidress which showed off her legs, she was wearing a cobalt blue silk ankle length dress which pinched in at her waist and plunged at her neck. I have no idea what bra she was wearing, but it had done an amazing job of pushing her tits together and giving her an impressive cleavage considering what little she had to work with. Her hair was drawn tightly into two French plaits which hung down on either side of her face.
“Does that have an effect on the amount?” she asked, continuing to look at the contents of the whisky glass disappointedly.
“Well, yeah,” I replied, sensing a way out of a tricky situation. “You always cum more when you’re really turned on.”
“Ok!” She grinned at me then tilted her face upwards, raised the glass to her forehead and poured my pitiful amount of cum onto her face. As it began to run down her nose and onto her cheek, she looked me in the eye. “I’ll have to remember that.” She gave the glass back to me and I watched as she rubbed another load of cum into her pretty face.
*********************
I had to get up early the next morning, the whole shift swap idea catching up with me. I tried my hardest to stay in bed as long as possible but when I heard Andy’s car pull away, crunching on the gravel, I knew it was time to get up. I crossed the landing and went into the bathroom for a quick shower before heading downstairs. The kitchen was empty, which was unusual — Beth would normally be finishing off her breakfast or getting herself ready for school, collecting her marking and things like that.
I sat down with a coffee and a bowl of cereal and started flicking through the pages of The Guardian from yesterday. I was vaguely aware of movement upstairs, doors opening and closing, but paid little attention — living in a shared house you got used to people moving around. It was only as I was heading out of the door and heard a loud groan from upstairs that I paused. Guess Steve got lucky last night, I thought, and shut the door behind me.
*********************
Tuesday evening was a little weird. We all sat watching TV, Andy blissfully unaware that his girlfriend was using my cum as a an acne cure. Beth herself acted as if nothing had happened at all and was her normal beautiful, bubbly self, whereas I got hard just looking at her. I went to bed early, exhausted by the constant nervous tension of not letting myself slip up or wondering if Andy was about to get up and thump me.
I planned to hide in my bedroom on Wednesday evening and read a book. Even though it was still early, I’d already changed into my sleepwear — a pair of lose fitting shorts and a t-shirt. I heard Steve go out to the pub and when the door went again, I assumed that Beth and Andy had both gone out for a run or something. When there was a knock on my door, I nearly jumped out of my skin.
“Come in?” I shouted.
The door opened and Beth came in. Her hair was down for a change, and she was wearing a red dress with colourful flowers patterned across it; as usual it finished mid knee length and showed off her nylon clad legs. I was surprised when she shut the door behind her — we normally keep doors open when we’re in each other’s room and close them when we want some privacy.
“Hi!” she said, smiling broadly. “You know on Monday you said you didn’t produce much because you weren’t turned on?”
“Uh-hu?” I muttered non-committedly.
“Would this help?” And with that, she shrugged her shoulders to let the dress fall to the floor. Beneath it, she was wearing the lingerie set I’d discovered two days before, the sheer black bra and panties and the expensive hold-ups. I lay on my bed and stared at her. I could clearly see her nipples through the thin material of her bra, and, beneath a thin landing strip of pubic hair, I could see the shape of her labia. She put her hands above her head and began to slowly turn around, gyrating her hips as she went. I was mesmerised. Her buttocks, perfectly parted by a thin strip of knickers, were firm and moved seductively, her long legs looked perfect in the stockings. She moved elegantly, sexily, athletically. As she turned to face me, I could see that she had closed her eyes, as if she was moving in her own little world, smiling all the time. She stopped and began to run her hands down her body, lingering on her breasts before moving down to her hips and thighs. The blackness of the lingerie contrasted beautifully with the paleness of her skin, which was dotted with dark brown freckles and moles all over, much like her chest. There was one, I noticed, on her upper inner thigh, close to the panty line, which I longed to make closer acquaintance with.
Her little show had certainly had its desired effect. Reaching down, I grabbed my cock through the leg hole of my shorts and began to wank myself, pulling the foreskin back and forth, stimulating the frenulum. She danced for a few seconds longer, reaching up to touch her nipples before she opened her eyes… and froze.
“Are you… wanking?” she asked. I think she knew the answer since she was staring straight at my cock as I lay on the bed with my hand wrapped around it.
“Errr…. Wasn’t that the idea?” I asked back. I was beginning to become unsure of myself and stopped moving my hand, but lay holding it instead.
“Well, yes, but… you know… after I left the room!”
“But then, you wouldn’t be here, and it wouldn’t be as arousing!” I began to move my hand again as I stared at her and she stared at me. For a moment, I thought I’d blown it but then her hands began to move again. Her left hand started to play with her nipples more enthusiastically, pinching them through the thin material of her bra, while her right hand snaked down her stomach and under her waistband until she found her clit and began to gently rub.
“Ok,” she said unsurely, still staring at my erection. “I guess this is kind of sexy. I mean, I’ve never watched anyone but Andy… you know…”
“Wank himself off?” I offered.
She nodded and made a little noise that could have been an agreement or could have been a moan of pleasure. “But no touching…” she said, and then leant back against the wall and spread her legs wider. I could see that she was now slipping first one and then two fingers inside herself, spreading her pussy, alternating between fingering herself and stimulating her clit. She let out another moan, definitely one of pleasure this time.
“God, your hot,” I told her, watching as she pleasured herself. I let go of my cock long enough to get off the bed and take my shorts off. “I’m gonna cum soon,” I told her.
“Oh god yes!” she replied, her eyes still fixed on my cock. “I want you to cum on my face!”
I hadn’t been expecting that, and I nearly shot my load there and then. I watched as she removed her hand from her pants and knelt on the floor, pulling her hair back into a tight ponytail with one hand so that it was out of the way and cupping the other beneath her chin to catch anything that dribbled down. And there she was: kneeling before me, looking up at me with her blue eyes, ready for me to cum all over her face. Smiling.
I planted one foot either side of her and looked down, trying to focus on those pert little tits and hard nipples, on her stockinged legs, and failing as my eyes kept on being drawn back to her face. As I felt the pressure in my balls building, I jerked my cock as hard and as fast as I could and all the time Beth knelt in front of me and watched in fascination.
“Cum on my face,” she repeated, and sent me over the edge.
“Oh fuck!” I shouted and pointed my cock directly at her. The first spurt hit her squarely in the centre of the forehead, as did the second. I aimed for her cheek next, then finished by aiming at her still smiling mouth and chin. And then I squeezed the last drop out onto her nose. I stood, panting, looking down at my pretty young housemate covered in spunk. My spunk. She broke eye contact and giggled as my cum dribbled down her face, a large string hanging from her chin. She let the cum drip into her hand and then looked back up at me and poured it back onto her forehead. Maintaining eye-contact, she continued scooping pools of cum from her face and the letting the spink drip from her fingers back onto her cheeks and nose. As I watched, a small amount dripped onto her thighs. Eventually, she stopped playing with my jizz, released her ponytail and used both hands to rub it into her face, just like she had done on the Saturday night. When she had finished, she leant back with her legs beneath her and rested on her outstretched arms, displaying her skinny, flat chested body to me in all its glory to me again.
“Well, that worked out well!” she said. “I think you were right — you do produce more cum when your turned on!”
“I wasn’t the only one,” I answered, looking down at the wet patch on her knickers. She blushed a little at that.
“Maybe…” she replied, and then took me by surprise by leaning forward and kissing the end of my dick. “I’d better get going,” she said, standing up and picking up her dress from where it had fallen. “And thanks!” she grinned as she opened the door again before pausing and looking back. “If you’re around Saturday morning…?” And then she left.
*********************
I spent the rest of the evening searching the internet for advice on how to improve the quantity and thicken the consistency of my cum. Now that we’d crossed a boundary and she was letting me cum directly onto her face, I wanted to make sure I covered her in as much thick white jizz as possible. By 9 o’clock, I had list of do’s and don’ts:
1. Drink lots of fluids to keep rehydrated — no booze but lots of grapefruit juice to improve the texture;
2. Avoid wearing tight underwear, which was fine;
3. Avoid sitting with your legs crossed, which seemed sensible but was a little weird;
4. Eat foods rich in zinc, like oysters, beef and pumpkin seeds — fine by me;
5. Try horny goat weed, whatever that was;
6. Exercise. Like that was going to happen again.
By 10 o’clock, I’d been to the local shop and stocked up on a gallon of grapefruit juice, two meat pies, three bars of dark chocolate and a packet of assorted nuts and seeds, and settled down in my room to try out the final two pieces of advice: edging and abstinence. Neither was going to be easy. The memory of Beth kneeling in front of me covered in jizz with her tits and pussy on display would normally have kept me wanking for two years, and the possibility of stopping myself cumming once I’d started seemed remote to say the least. But then I remembered — I wasn’t doing this for me, I was doing this for Beth.
Because I’m a fucking hero.
*********************
Friday night was painful. Even more painful than Tuesday. Beth assumed her usual position in the armchair with Andy and seemed far less inhibited than the previous week. Again, she was wearing a little dress and black tights and again she had her legs draped over the side of the arm. They moved around more than previously, spread apart more giving me a fantastic view up her skirt. I couldn’t see if she was wearing knickers or not, which made me think she wasn’t. But that wasn’t all — she would pull her knees up to her chest and hug them, stretch one leg out and run the sole of her other foot up it from ankle to knee and then back again, or sit cross-legged with the hem of her skirt riding high. God knows what Andy was thinking as she squirmed around in his lap. Actually, if he was anything like me he was enjoying the show but with the added bonus of her rubbing herself on his undoubtedly hard cock. Every now and then I jealously watched his hands roam up and down her legs; whether he was feeling her up or trying to keep her still I couldn’t work out.
“You not drinking tonight?” Steve asked me as he poured himself another glass of wine. I’d finished off a carton of grapefruit juice before nursing a glass of red for an hour, wondering whether its high iron and zinc content outweighed the dehydrating effects of the alcohol. Would Guinness be better? Didn’t they use to recommend that for pregnant women?
Beth was cradling her own glass and looked over at me with a smirk on face. “Maybe he’s got a heavy load on tomorrow,” she grinned. “Something big he’s got to deliver!”
“I’ve got to help a friend out tomorrow,” I replied. “You know me – always happy to help out a friend, no matter how strange the request.”
“Strange? I hope nobody’s taking advantage of you. I’d hate you to be forced to do something you didn’t want to do…”
“Oh no!” I said hurriedly. “I want to help! I enjoy it too!”
“I bet you do!” she smirked.
“How about you, Andy?” Steve asked.
“I’ve got the second part of the Duke of fucking Edinburgh,” he replied. At least it’s just one day this time, and I’m just driving the minibus this time rather than being an instructor.”
“Leaving poor Beth alone again? Whatever will she do all by herself?”
“I’m sure I’ll find something to do,” she muttered.
“You’d better be careful mate,” Steve continued. “She’ll start to think you’re playing away from home or something and start looking around for someone to keep her company…”
“You offering, Steve?” Beth asked with a wicked glint in her eye. Andy wrapped his arms protectively around his girlfriend.
“Alas, I am once more destined to roll around in the mud with 29 large hairy men,” he replied. “Maybe you should ask our mutual friend in the armchair,” he said, indicating me. “I’m sure he’d do anything for a damsel in distress!”
Beth threw her head back and laughed. I made my excuses and left.
*********************