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Do you like to be watched as you pleasure yourself?

Love being watched, have been on Skype by some great people today, hope to be watched by some more, m or f
 
ImRightOnTime2 said:
Is your wife kind of reserved in the fact that she won’t let her online girlfriend come over or is she kind of reserved in the fact that she doesn’t know you have a girlfriend therefore she can’t come over?… Lol
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No, she is reserved in that she isn't interested in masturbating in front of one another. She also doesn't know about my girlfriend, who couldn't come over anyway as she is only an online girlfriend, she lives on a different continent to me, but we've had a relationship for over ten years now.
 
Nah, I'm offended by my own body so wouldn't put anyone else through that.
 
I climbed back into bed yesterday and began to stroke myself to a nice medium hard condition. My wife was watching and cradling my balls as I stroked. After a short while she took over the stroking and I held my balls. She doesn't understand just how terribly ticklish I get when I cum. I don't cum much any more so there isn't much to watch but frankly solo pleasure is better when I do cum.
 
DeeNile said:
The Summer between junior and senior year of high school, one of my girlfriends and I used to masturbate watching my dad's porn together when my parents weren't home. We did this several times over that Summer, but then when our senior year started, we never did that again. We never touched or kissed, but looking back on it, I'm sure we both wanted to but were too scared to do more.
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Have you explored with a woman since then?
 
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I learned the true nature of someone watching me when I spent a summer in Venice. I was attending a summer seminar and found a tiny apartment along one of the canals. There was no air conditioning, so windows were usually open.

My boyfriend at the time was stateside, so here I was in a romantic world, trying to be a good girl. I went out nightly with others from my group, and more than one of my male classmates tried (unsuccessfully) to come back to my apartment. I knew if they had, I would have lost my ability to resist.

I had moved my bed to the window to catch the breeze (it was so humid). I would lay naked on the bed, and desperate to fall asleep, I would gently massage myself into a sweaty frenzy. If you’ve spent time in Venice or any Italian city, the sounds of the night include arguments, loud conversation, and the plaintive moans and groans of sex. I never held back, not worried about who might hear me.

With the back of my bed to the window, I was certain no one could see me from the apartments across the canal. But I did not consider the huge French Provincial mirror above the dresser at the foot of the bed. While I was lying there, flicking my clit to a nightly orgasm, the reflection of my actions was visible from the mirror to the apartment directly across the canal.

That's where Pavel was living. He was Russian, and he studied language for a year in Venice. As I discovered, Pavel was a night owl who made espressos and studied till all hours.

My discovery of Pavel began the night I used a hairbrush for added excitement and needed to pee. I ran to the bathroom, and when I was walking back to bed, I noticed a man sitting on his balcony, drinking espresso and looking at me. I quickstepped to the bed, slightly upset at being seen but a little titillated.

As I lay on the bed and picked up the hairbrush, I looked at myself in the mirror. Through the open window behind me, I could see him sitting, drinking, and smiling. I remembered the first lesson from Driver’s Education: If I can see you in my mirrors, you can see me.

I had been doing a nightly session for several weeks. How long had he been there? The entire time? Just this once?

He just sipped and sat and watched.

I got this tingling feeling wash over me and decided, what the hell, I don’t know him, I’ll never see him, so have at it.
I finished strong.

The next night was more of the same. I worked, he watched.

I decided to cut out the middle man and turn the bed around the following day. Now, the mirror was out of the equation. I would get a direct breeze from the open window, and my voyeur friend would get a better view. I got in bed with my Van Halen t-shirt and cut-off sweatpants and just lay there. Sorry dude, no show without quid pro quo.

He sat in his kitchen window, espresso in hand, and just watched. I think he got the message because he put down the espresso. I took off my top. He responded in kind. I slid down my shorts, and he did the same. We were now naked, separated by a narrow fetid canal, and I went to work on myself. He understood the assignment and did the same.

That was the start of four weeks of mutual masturbation. I hurried through each day to get to that moment at night. About three weeks into our strange relationship, I was behind him in a café. I tapped him on the shoulder, and we enjoyed our morning cappuccino together. He had a wife, and I had a boyfriend. We never once discussed spending the night together. In fact, we never once discussed our mutual arrangement.

When my time in Venice was done, I’m guessing he knew I was gone when the curtains remained closed. So yeah, I love being watched and recommend it to anyone.
 
WendyTrilby said:
When my time in Venice was done, I’m guessing he knew I was gone when the curtains remained closed. So yeah, I love being watched and recommend it to anyone.
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What a great story Wendy! I think I need to spend more time in Italy, or, perhaps, tuning in to what's happening around me during warm night escapades!
 
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