And what am I supposed to do with those potato sacks now?" I laughed with her on the outside, but on the inside my cock was screaming for mercy.And what am I supposed to do with those potato sacks now?" I laughed with her on the outside, but on the inside my cock was screaming for mercy. And I told her as much. "Okay, that's enough," I groaned, "if we keep talking about this stuff, I swear I'm going to have to go to the men's room and give the old professor some relief." Andrea grinned. "You're kidding," she teased. "I am not kidding," I protested, "my problem is, I don't think I can stand up right now." And in fact, I couldn't. Andrea looked at me and a sly, sexy expression crossed her face. She leaned into me, giggled like a little girl and whispered, "I want to watch you masturbate." I nearly choked on my coffee. When I regained my composure I replied, "now who's kidding?" "No, no, I mean it," she answered sincerely, "I've never seen a man do it. It'd be a trip. C'mon, don't be such a candyass." 3! 3 It wasn't the worst proposition I'd ever heard. I thought about it and smiled. "Okay," I nodded, "on one condition. You let me watch you do it." Andrea didn't even think about it before answering. "It's a deal. Get the check." Even though it was a short distance from the restaurant, we took a cab to her small but beautifully decorated apartment and Andrea led me to the bedroom. As I had suspected, it was a decidedly feminine room dominated by a big brass bed, Laura Ashley wallpaper and fabrics and yes, silk sheets. But then things got a little awkward. We couldn't agree who was to go first and flipping a coin seemed too cold to both of us. |