We are delighted to welcome Ella Scandal back to our blog with a delicious bit of fiction for Wankuary!
Toby is working out. Right here in the front room. His yoga mat is on the carpet, his dumbbells are in his hands, and his eyes are fixed on the trainer on the TV screen. I know this DVD as well as I know my favourite movie, I’ve seen it almost as many times. Going by the current segment, he’s been at it for almost an hour but he’s showing no signs of slowing down. Total powerhouse.
As usual, my arrival doesn’t warrant even a two-minute break. He just grunts and half raises a weight in my direction as I skirt his mat and slither onto the sofa. It’s been a while since I just sat and watched him. Usually, I’m up too. Lighter weights, heavier breathing, but giving it as much effort as he does.
As I watch Toby curl a weight toward his shoulder, a memory flashes in my mind. Last time we did this session together it went, quite literally, with a bang. The scents and sounds in the close room make the moving images in my head seem all the more real. The smell of old leather, the tang of a glucose drink, the hint of fresh sweat. Fast paced music, gruff trainer yelling encouragement, Toby’s grunts of exertion.
I was just about to eat lunch, but my appetite has forsaken me. Well, the appetite for food has. Now I’m hungry for something else altogether. I’m not going to tell Toby, though. I’ll let him figure it out for himself.
Shifting around on the sofa, trying not to make too much noise, I reach for my zipper. The metal stings my cold fingers, but I manage to get it all the way down. Already, my cock is uncoiling behind the navy-blue cotton of my boxers. It’s so warm down there. I run my hand over the semi-hard lump behind the fabric, straightening it out, massaging it, making it grow.
Any other day I’d watch it harden, watch the tip push, lift, then peek out over my waistband. But today my eyes are all over Toby. When I’m turned on, I seem to develop a kind of hyper-focus, and I see so much more than I usually would. Bluish veins bulging in Toby’s biceps. Sinews straining in his neck. Sweat running down the side of his face and his knuckles turning white.
Fuck, I wish he would turn around and notice what I’m doing. I know that he would abandon his training if he caught sight of me rubbing my hard cock through my boxers. I tug on it, squeeze it, instinctively know that the tight stroke has forced a few drops of precum out of my slit. Another stroke and I’ll probably feel it. Toby loves precum, almost as much as he loves full on spunk. He likes to smooth it over his lips, coat the inside of his mouth with it using his tongue.
With a bit of shoving and jiggling, I get my hand fully down my pants. I was right, plenty of precum that’s now streaked up my forearm. Shivers make me shrink away from my own hand when my fingertips skim over my balls. I tickle them, move them around, give them a little squeeze. A few sharp pulls on the pubic hair that covers them makes the base of my cock pulse and my arsehole twitch.
It’s a sensation that reminds me of how it feels to have Toby slap my balls. Arousal fucks with the chemical balance in my brain, making something that should cause me untold pain bring me closer and closer to euphoria. He hurts me, tortures me, and I fucking love it.
So much so, I forget that I’m supposed to be having a stealth wank. I lift my bulk from the sofa, yank my jeans and shorts to my feet then throw myself back down. The leather creaks, the crap on the table beside it rattles, but I don’t care anymore.
I see Toby glance over at me, do a double take, then match the rhythm of his lifts to the music again. He’s smiling, though. A filthy little smile that turns my insides to liquid and my cock to iron. I close my eyes, knowing that he’s going to keep stealing peeks, that if he manages to hold out until I shoot my load, I’ll be the receptacle for all of his pent-up frustration later on. My arse aches just thinking about it.
Breathing is becoming a struggle. I’m gagging on my own gasps, choking on my own cries. My shoulder is burning, my wrist is aching, my cheeks are clammy with tears. Toby loves that I cry when we fuck and I’m sure he’s gone quiet because he’s watching me.
I can feel it. Everything is tight, I feel like a coiled spring that needs to be released. I do need it, I want it, I’m shaking with it. Even if I wanted to hold it back now I couldn’t, it’s going to come spilling out of me, covering my hand, my wrist, my belly.
It’s pulsing from deep inside me, my body is wracked with ecstatic sobs. I know I’ve come on the sofa, on the floor. Somehow, I’ve even managed to jizz in my own face and hair, too. I’m covered in it and I can’t stop myself from sighing in contentment and sinking further into sticky leather.
Toby is laughing quietly. Smiling, I open my eyes, expecting to see him standing on his mat, watching me. But he isn’t. He’s right beside the sofa, shaking the last few drips of come from his cock. Ah. So that’s how I got spunk in my hair.
I have a long history of wanking under my belt, so to speak. I started noticing that touching myself felt good at a young age, and since I am an older gentleman I didn’t have the advantage of the internet to help satisfy my sexual curiosity. So like many other young men I found my inspiration in the pages of a department store catalogue, specifically the lingerie pages. Now you wouldn’t think these could be that inspirational, but you would be very wrong. To my youthful eyes pictures like this were the closest thing I would see to a naked woman for a few years and so I would take the latest issue from the tray at the bottom of the TV stand (A black and white TV to give you an idea how long ago it was) into my bedroom with the race car wallpaper for a bit if personal time with my penis.
This kept me occupied until a neighborhood friend showed me a copy of Playboy that they had nicked from their Father. That was eye opening and provided me my first look at a fully naked adult woman, that fired my imagination and kept me warm on a lot of cold winters nights. My friends Dad was obviously quite the perv because other magazines quickly followed, Hustler, Penthouse and now I had not only seen naked, but also actual sex. This led to a lot of wanking and a lot of stiff socks (Hey, we all did it) because for some reason that seemed like a better option that getting a tissue and putting it in the trash. I’m going to go with, I was ecologically aware and you can choose to believe me or not.
Pictures like the one on this cover stayed with me for a long time and possibly brought me to an important wanking aid, lube, well not lube exactly because it was the dark ages and lube was not something you could ask your mom to put on the weekly shopping list. But TV came to my rescue and showed me something that we might already have ready at hand. Johnson’s Baby Oil.
This was a revelation because as a horny circumcised young man I was finding that just using my hand was causing a bit of… chaffing. Look this was before the internet or cable TV even existed I had a lot of time on my hands and so like many people wanking was a good way to spend that time.
Then I had my first sexual encounter where the number of participants was greater that one. I liked it, I liked it a lot. We pretty much did it every time we were even vaguely near each other. But, that doesn’t mean I stopped wanking because there was also remembering the sex I had just had once I got back home and my first experience of using technology, the telephone. Now we didn’t have it easy like the kids do today when I say a telephone I mean this.
Our telephone was downstairs in the “Rec room” and had a very long cord that while it wouldn’t reach into my bedroom would reach into what was known as the “Powder room” and as teens were often known to do we spent hours talking on that phone. Well, when I say talking I really mean having phone sex and wanking, she was very good at it, or at least that is how I remember it, I had nothing to compare it to and it was all very exciting. One thing I am sure of, even if she didn’t say so, was that my mother had to be grateful that the days of crunchy socks were over!
Life moved on and so did my first sexual partner and while there were many other partners there was also always plenty of wanking. Eventually I got married and had children. But marriage doesn’t mean the end of pleasuring yourself and so while I didn’t do it as much as before I certainly never quit and now I had cable television which brought more adult content right into my home. I put it to good use. But there was something new that none of us expected, a stunning innovation that revolutionized the world and brought a whole new way of showing sex and sexual desires. The internet!
Now the web didn’t leap into existence no matter what the youth of today might think. The early days meant hours of tying up the phone line to download something that maybe kind of looked like porn if you squinted.
It is a marvel that people were willing to spend so much time and, or money to do this, but we did and because we did you folks have unlimited access to all kinds of depraved filth that we could only dream about. I must have used hundreds of the free ‘100 hours of internet’ from AOL to download (yes download, streaming was not a thing over dial-up) pictures and stories and eventually movies (anyone else remember Usenet?)
Many years have passed since those heady early days of the World Wide Web and while lots of things have gotten worse, access to wanking material certainly hasn’t. And my life has changed as well, I have kids and also Grandkids. I got divorced and re-married, I have had a lifetime of changes and adventures, some good, some bad. But even as I get older I have found that wanking has not changed that much for me other than I don’t do it alone. I have a partner that greatly enjoys seeing and participating in good a wank and that brings a whole new level of fun and excitement to something that after all these wanking years you would think would have become dull and boring. But it has not, so I say to all of you men out there, whether it be nearer the beginning of your adventures in masturbation, or like me you are a more mature wanker, enjoy every bit of the journey and give yourself the pleasure of a good old wank if and when you feel like it. As the saying goes, no one knows you like you know you.
New year, new you?
Versions of this saying are all over the place at the moment as all sorts of companies try to convince you that their product or service is just what you need in 2019. Much of that marketing is about dieting and often comes alongside a message that is basically telling you that you are not good enough because you are not slim enough. On the surface it might all look positive but underneath it is actually really negative.
Here at Godemiche we wanted to make January about something a bit different. Still with a focus on personal well being, just a really positive one. We discovered that January is Self-Love month. No, not like that you naughty lot but in the sense of taking caring of yourself but, well, we sell dildos and have just launched our first ever penis toy and so we decided that January should be all about taking care of yourself. Take a bath, read a book, enjoy a nice meal, make a list of things you want to do this summer, see a friend you have not seen in ages, write a letter to someone, buy some flower and yes get into bed with yourself and enjoy the pleasures of your own body.
As part of self-love month we are renaming January #Wankuary.
Masturbation remains a taboo subject regardless of gender. Just the reasons for it being taboo are different and so we want to encourage a more open and honest conversation about self pleasure. We will be posting a variety of blog posts that we hope will help to provide useful and interesting reading about this subject as well a some sexy masturbation erotic fiction to help you all get in the mood for a bit of self lovin.
Wanking is good for you, not just your body but for your mind as well, it can help you relax and even sleep better and best of all you will be giving a gift to someone you care about, you! So break out the lube and put on some smooth jazz (or whatever tickles your musical taste buds) and treat yourself to all the joys that a wank can bring.
But we would also like to hear from you guys. Do you have a masturbation story to tell? Maybe it is funny, maybe it is sad, maybe it is insanely hot. If you have something you would like to share with us then please do get in touch. You can message us on Twitter or Instagram or else leave a comment on this blog post. If we get enough stories we will put them all together in a post here so you can read them all.
What better way to start your year than with #Wankuary