I always spend time looking out my window, hoping to see girls walking along, but I have to be careful at the week-end if I’m going to the pub(s) tonight – no, not drinking with friends but to see go-go (60s & 70s style).
My excitement’s grown all week as I anticipate my trip to London, to the Green Man. I love go-go, and when it was on the telly a few years back those girls would make me spunk my pants every week. Seeing it for real is even better, I don’t feel too out of place in my long jacket, in fact I’ve even once or twice seen other pervy-looking blokes who go all funny-eyed when She comes on to dance.
My nerves are jangly as I park and hurry along to the entrance – I always worry something will go wrong, something that prevents me seeing what I’ve come to see, to get the sex pleasure I crave and that’s all I need. I go straight to my special spot at the bar, and wait, heart thumping – will She show tonight? Who will it be?
Then She’s there, in a minidress so short my penis starts to force its way upwards in my pants and I pull the material out at the front to allow it to spring upright. She walks along to the little raised stage and my knob is pulsating urgently as I watch Her move in the little dress, Her legginess and swaying hips mesmerising me already.
I get into position, pressing gently up against the bar and as the music blares and She moves Her body, jerking it in the special go-go moves, I’m in heaven, releasing the pressure on my knob and re-applying it to prolong the sex pleasure as much as possible. It doesn’t work though and I start to moan involuntarily as little trickles of pre-cum soak into my underpants. There was never any doubt, but now I know She’s going to make me do it.
This is what I come here for, this is at this time the most important sex gratification for me – seeing a girl show for real. Seeing a girl dance, go-go dance. You see, I can’t see girls show to order, only in my magazines. I have to go places where there’s a good chance I’ll get to see what I need to see – which is not a lot, but you can’t just go up and ask for it, you have to be in the right place at the right time.
Trickles turn to squirts, my pants go from dry to damp, squirts turn to spurts, my moans turn to little whimpers as knobby pumps spunk into my underpants and trousers, which go from damp to wet. She’s made me cum in my pants, yet again, and I love it more than anything.
Monday’s are Monday’s, and for me it’s back on the road. Hopefully my route today will take me to one of my towns where my favourite bookshops are – Luton, Bedford, Derby, Nottingham, Birmingham, London. If it’s summer time, add in Clacton, Southend or any seaside town where miniskirts and even bikinis will give me sex pleasure and wet pants.
It might be an exchange bookshop, or newsagents that has a good range of dirty books. Ideally a lady will be serving, and there are many towns where I know which shops to go to for this. Nowadays, and for a long time now, I go fully kitted-up when I buy dirty books. Wank-trousers, spunk-stained and with hole in pocket, ‘dirty’ mac, also with holes in pockets, flap cap, goggle glasses. Yes, I look like a perv, a dirty old man and I hope people notice as I walk along to the bookshop.
Often I hang around for a few minutes before going in, in the hope girls will walk along and see me furtively going into the mag-shop. Usually I can’t wait too long as I’m very anxious to get in there and see what lovely mags they’ve got, as well as see the lady look up and say “hullo” politely, while probably thinking ‘it’s that wanker again, god he must buy mags by the thousand’. I do.
Seeing the first few covers gives me an erection, if I wasn’t already. Some days I’m not as horny as others, but on my best days, looking at my favourite girls on the covers can make me spunk my pants before I’ve even bought the mag.
Depending on the shop, my mac might be open or closed. If it’s Derby or Bedford, my mac’s open so when I go up to the counter She’ll see the whole mess of stains across the front of my wank trousers. She’ll see I’ve got holes in my mac pockets cause I put my hands through to get to my money pouch. She’ll see me open my case to cram my new mags in and see just how many mags I’ve got in there, most crammed with toilet paper. I might even pull out one or two mags to show Her ads for mags or videos and ask if I can order them. That way She gets to see the pervy captions and cartoons I’ve written on – ‘oh spunk queen, this is where She MADE me spunk in my pants!’ – as well as the spunk stains with a big arrow and the word ‘SPUNK’ written next to it.
If I’ve got out the shop with my pants still dry, then I urgently head for my van, pausing sometimes for a few minutes in the hope girls will come by as I exit the shop and I’ve got my new purchases under my arm – maybe even ‘accidentally’ drop them so they get a good look at what mags a pervert wanker buys for his sex pleasure. I can’t wait long as I’m desperate to get my eyes on the baregirl pics.
If I haven’t got through all the mags I bought last time, I’ll go back to them, and to the page where the girlie-goddess made me spunk my pants just looking last time. I’ll write some pervy captions about what She made me do, and maybe a cartoon to depict that, and then I’m already in a state as I turn the page. If there’s more pics of Her then there’s a good chance I won’t get any further, unless they’re too explicit for me.
It will probably take Her only one or two pics to make me do it in my pants again, and even though my windows are closed you can hear my pathetic moans for miles as She gradually takes me to ecstasy, the violent pumping into my underpants soaking them and my trousers instantly – wank-trousers are absorbent, for quick wet patches and nice stains. I will have added captions and cartoons beforehand if there’s time, to add to my perv pleasure, and always afterwards, to tell everyone what She made me do.
For years I never thought any girl would see the awful pervy state of my mags, the spunk-stains and what I write and draw in them, and certainly not the girl in the photo, but years later, that dream did come true – thank-you to Miss Melanie, Miss Danica, Miss Leigh, Miss Lisa, Miss Christina.
Tuesday and/or Thursday might be go-go night, in which case I will be the familiar figure in his long jacket which stays done up, and if you watch me when the go-go girl comes on to dance, you’ll see my eyes glaze, hear my growing moans, see me convulse and my head nod, my shoulders shudder as She soon makes me cum in my pants.
Later when go-go in pubs stopped, I would go to pubs where nice barmaids served, particularly the pubs specialising in skimpy-dressed girls to get the blokes in. I’d be at the special spot at the end of the bar where you got the best views along with maybe 3 or 4 other pervs who like me, needed places like this to see girls bare for real and get the sex pleasure we craved, that’s all we need.
It takes just a few minutes for the girls to make this wanker spunk his pants, and then a bit later my hand will be through the holes in my pockets as I pleasure myself like the life-long perv I am, my eyes gratefully, joyfully on those lovely girls who let men see them nearly bare. How I’d love them to see the state of the front of my trousers after a couple of hours perving in there.
A couple of days a week are set aside for my wank-orgies. I might need a sick day or a day’s holiday to have a really nice time. Depending on which place I’m living in, I might be looking out the window of my wank-room as I slowly make my way through some of my recent mags, as well as my favourites, hoping to ogle girls walking down the street.
When I had my special fence, I’d take a few boxes of mags down along with my case to peer through the fence to watch girls, as well as a table to have my mags on for pervert wanking. My case contains my most recent purchases, which don’t feature in my wank-orgies until I’ve looked at every page and spunked my pants each time. Sometimes it takes me 6 or 7 goes to get through a mag, as the lovely girls keep making me pants-spunk just looking. Miss Maria Whittaker’s mag devoted to Her took me nine goes. Even fully-dressed that Goddess makes me cum in my pants just looking, I wish I could tell Her.
At one time I could have a wank-orgy for several hours, going through particular mags in a special order. A video might be playing too, in the early days VHS tapes of girls on telly, or bought ones, then later downloaded ones. In the 70s and 80s mags were not too explicit, though my favourite Spick & Span mags from the 60s went out of production before then. Nowadays I’ve got all my pics on-screen, as well as Internet pics I’ve downloaded by the 10s of 1000s, all in the style I love and non-explicit, non-nude – nothing more than topless but I don’t need that even.
What was nice about my magazine wank-orgies is getting to a page I’ve spunked on before, maybe several times, with my captions and cartoons on. Often that will be placed with the others that await the finale. My felt-tips are on hand for more pervy writing and captions, and then finally it’s time for ejaculatory perv ecstasy. There’ll be two or three mags, depending on their size, laid flat on the table, and then another two or three propped at the back. Sometimes I have to use an ironing board as I’ve assembled so many mags I want to look at as I go into perv ecstasy.
When they’re all laid out, approach the table, stiff knob waggling, talking to the girls like a real pervert – “look girls, wanker’s here, pervert wanker, I’ve been wanking on all you lovely girls, posing and showing your lovely bareness and now I’m going to SOAK your pics with spunk!” I love to talk to my photos cause that’s the only time I can look a girl in the eyes and talk to Her, saying the things I’d love Her to hear for real as I spurt spunk on Her pics or in my underpants.
Plonking my stiff knob on to the mag in front of me, I start to chant stuff like “spunk queen bare girl, big tit bare-girl, knicker-show bare-girl” and so on. I like to think the neighbours can hear, but I don’t think that’s ever happened – if it did, they didn’t say anything, and they look at me funnily anyway as I go everywhere in my dirty mac zipped up, even on hot days. Soon the chanting can’t continue as I just moan and moan as the girls have got me on the verge.
After hours of wanking, the pre-cum is more like urinating, and the stream can go several feet, soaking all the mags, and then the pumping starts and on a good day I’m pumping over all the mags, including the ones propped up at the end of the table or ironing board. Half a roll of toilet paper is then required to protect the mags as much as possible and soak up hopefully all the cum. It doesn’t always work though and in extreme cases I have to buy a second copy of the mags so I can actually see the pics while I’m looking at the stained ones in the old mag.
On that point, I never had the nerve to take a ruined mag into my bookshops and show the lady what I’d done to it, and then plaintively ask if She had another copy I could buy. Lovely thought though.
Some days, if it was nice and sunny, I’d stay at my window or behind my fence for as many hours as it took for girls to walk along. This is special because I’m completely undressed, and I love the thought of a fully-dressed girl walking along the pavement on the other side of the fence to a naked pervert who’s rubbing his knob watching Her. Usually it will be a local girl that I’ve seen many times and She’ll have made me spurt spunk quite a few times. When I got my camcorder I’d film it all too, so I can experience that pleasure over and over – a real perv eh?!
Like window-wanking, that’s virtually risk-free, which mac-wanking isn’t. It’s years since I went mac-wanking because nowadays with cctv and phone-cameras it’s far too risky. In some ways mac-wanking is better than window or fence, because although I can’t be nude I am in public, which feels really naughty and dirty. There’s also the chance that the girls will see what they’re making me do, although you have to be very careful who that is, and most of the time I was discreet. It’s just that after several hours in the dead of winter waiting for girls to come along, you’re really cold and limp and then when girls do come along you’ve got maybe a few minutes to get up to spunk point before they walk out of sight, which requires knob-rubbing at 100 mph.
Some of the girls that did notice were highly amused, and enjoyed taking the piss. Some of the best mac-wanks were in red light areas, just waiting at a bus-stop or something seeing them in their skimpy outfits and getting my sex pleasure. Parking up was more risky but it meant I could spread my mags round and the girls would see and call out “pervert” and “wanker”.
It was a lot riskier doing that in other places than red light districts, where I knew girls would walk along, but I do love being seen with all my mags, and it’s instant pants-spunking when girls stop and look through my window at the pervert with all his stained, defiled dirty mags, his face contorting in perv ecstasy as they say “look at this wanker, what a fucking pervert” while I bounce up and down in my seat, soaking my underpants.
Nowadays a wank-orgy will start with a lot of surfing, downloading every baregirl pic or video I see. If I’m lucky enough to be worshipping a girl I can email Her, send Her worship sheets, videos and all the other pervy stuff I make up for Her using Her pics, and all the time the emphasis is on ‘me’ – usually a cartoon – ogling Her and spunking my pants. That’s the best way to show Her what She makes me do.
After Worship Sessions with Miss Melanie finished at the end of the 90s, it wasn’t until 2011 that I was able to enjoy that unique, very special way of worshipping a girl in person, all kitted out in my perv outfit, dirty mac zipped up and all, even on a hot day – the ultimate girl-worship experience for a perv like me. Unlike with Miss Melanie, I’ve not had the nerve to do it openly in my pants in front of any of the girls I’ve worshipped since Her, but it’s still very special when you see your Goddess actually reading Her worship sheets, even printed versions I do for Her. Being in Her presence after you’ve told Her 100s of times how Her pics and videos make you spunk your pants is a really special feeling, particularly because you know She knows She’s going to make you spunk your pants during the Session. It doesn’t get any better than that – unless I’m worshipping TWO Goddesses personally – a ‘double Worship Session’.