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It’s interesting how our lives can rapidly be changed when a new person enters our social circle. Comfortable daily routines which have long been taken for granted may suddenly fail us, as we are plunged into turmoil and uncertainty. Such was the case when my housemate and best friend, Amy, brought her younger brother over to stay in my home for a week in order to search for an apartment. Jake was enrolling in an undergraduate degree program at the state college, starting as a junior. I agreed to let him stay in Amy’s room while she was away for the week attending the wedding of another friend in Boston.Jake was about five feet ten inches tall. He had clear blue eyes, a freckled face, and light brown hair, faintly tinted ginger. My early impression of him was that he was rather immature and naive, tormented by his hormones, horny all the time and somewhat of an exhibitionist. But he was sexy. Everything about him exuded sexuality: his muscular, athletic build, the way he looked at you, the way he smiled and the way he dressed, or more accurately, didn’t dress.Upon his arrival, he decided to go into town, check out the campus and visit the town library. He was clearly excited about being at a major college. I offered him a ride into town, given the record-setting hot weather that day, but he decided to ride his bike instead. I gave him a slip of paper with my cell phone number in case he was going to be late, or if he needed assistance. We agreed on 6:00 for dinner. Then he was off, cycling down the highway in the searing, midday heat.Later that afternoon, around 6:00, Jake called to let me know he was running late, and that he would be home in twenty to thirty minutes. He arrived at 6:30, crimson-faced, and dripping wet from head to toe with sweat.“Do you mind if I take a shower first?” he asked. “It was hot, just like you said.”After telling him to go ahead, I set the table and put dinner on the stove. A short while later he scampered down the old, wooden staircase from the second floor, two steps at a time, and presented himself at the dinner table.“Sorry for holding you up,” he remarked.“No problem,” I replied. “You certainly look a lot cooler and drier. Have a seat.”He was clad only in running shorts and a pair of flip-flops, but nothing covering his chest. I felt that his attire was inappropriate. After all, he wasn’t sitting at his parents’ table.  We were still strangers, having met for the first time just six hours earlier. Was he trying to seduce me?During dinner, Jake informed me about his childhood and his life since reaching maturity, and what relationships were like in his parental home. His parents both worked full time, so were often away from home. They usually disagreed over how to raise their kids. Early on, Amy had assumed some responsibility in mentoring him, teaching him manners and whatever else one needs to learn while growing up. At twenty-one, Jake was six years younger than both Amy and me. He hadn’t yet decided what he would major in, but thought he may want to go to law school after graduation. I asked him if he played baseball in high school. He was surprised that I guessed correctly.“How did you know that? Did Amy tell you?” he asked.“No, you’re too short for basketball and not brawny enough for football or wresting,” I explained.He didn’t say much about his academic accomplishments, however, so I assumed that’s why he started his post-high school education at a community college.Did he have lots of girlfriends? Only a few, and no one for the last two years, since starting college.I should also mention that apparently, Jake wasn’t wearing anything under his running shorts, judging by a conspicuous bulge in front. I was curious why he didn’t seem the least embarrassed by the condition. I had boyfriends and male housemates over the years, but none of them ever put their arousal on display so readily.That night, while trying to fall asleep, my thoughts lingered on Jake. Was he really trying to seduce me? Was he prurient, or worse, a sexual predator? Was it appropriate for me istanbul travesti to feel lust for a man six years younger than me? I was too horny to fall asleep. After trying different sleep positions, with no success, I finally decided to relieve the nagging ache in my groin with the help of a fantasy I made up involving Jake. It worked, and I got off to sleep in no time.I awoke the next morning just as the day’s first light streamed through the bedroom window, along with a welcome, refreshing breeze. I crawled out of bed right away and hastened to the bathroom, careful to walk softly to avoid waking him. On my way back, I noticed that the door to Amy’s bedroom was open wide enough for me to be able to glance easily into the room. Even in the dim, early light, I was able to discern that he was lying on his back, snoring softly, with nothing on but a pair of skimpy briefs that scarcely concealed a robust erection that was desperately striving to escape its confinement.I stood at the doorway, mesmerized, for what seemed like several minutes, just gazing at him, before tip-toeing back to my bed. It was the time of day when I’m usually horniest. It would have been great to linger in bed all morning and indulge in fantasies, but I had to get to work soon. I showered, had breakfast and left a note on the kitchen table to let Jake know he was welcome to have anything for breakfast that he could find in the refrigerator or cupboards.At work that day I found it difficult to keep focused on my responsibilities. Associates told me I seemed unusually distracted. Visions of my young guest lying in bed, sexually aroused, persistently flooded my stream of consciousness. On the drive home that afternoon, I reflected on the situation. I began to feel a disturbing tug of war between my better judgment and the irrepressible surge of hormones propelling me toward a potentially risky sexual encounter.“At this age, you should know better, Allison,” I kept reminding myself. “A mature woman doesn’t jump into bed with a strange man right away for quick fun.”But Jake exhibited an inherent sexual quality that I found irresistible. Why couldn’t I throw caution to the wind, just this once, just for the few days that he and I would be together?I wrestled with my dilemma that night, and had difficulty falling asleep once more. The next morning, on the way to the bathroom to shower, I could hear Jake snoring softly. I peeked into his room again, and noticed that he was lying on his back, naked this time, his turgid manhood beckoning me to come over and pet it. Of course, there was no way I could do that without waking him.I was just finishing breakfast, ready to leave for work, when Jake sauntered into the kitchen, sleepy-eyed, dressed in running shorts and flip-flops.“Morning,” he mumbled.“Good morning, Jake.  Did you sleep better last night?”“Yeah, I did.”“Sweet dreams, or were they wet dreams?”“A little of both,” he replied, grinning.“You know, Jake, you don’t seem to have an ounce of modesty, do you?”“What do you mean?”“Well, you leave your door wide open when you sleep, and don’t cover up with anything, not even underwear.”“It’s too hot in that room. What do you expect?” he replied.“Well, it’s just as hot in my room, but I still wear a nightgown.”“Allison, you’re starting to sound just like Amy now.  ‘Don’t do this and don’t do that.’  Well, I’m sorry I offended you, but that’s how I always sleep. Besides, it’s not polite to be peeking in on someone.”He won the point. I decided it was best not to antagonize him, and just let the matter drop. But he had additional thoughts.“Alright, Allie, you’re a really great looking woman; make that sexy, okay? I get horny and fantasize about you.”I was floored and didn’t know how to respond, or where to take the conversation. Things appeared to be getting out of control.“Listen, Jake. What you’re doing isn’t very subtle. Most women appreciate at least a little subtlety. There are many women who would really be offended by what you’ve been doing, and could even report you for sexual istanbul travestileri harassment. Don’t just go out there with your dick hanging out and expect someone to come onto you.  It might have the opposite effect. In fact, you could even be kicked out of college for misbehavior.”“But . . .”“Listen to me, will you. I know what I’m talking about. Try to be more creative in how you approach a woman. I need to leave for work now. Shall we carry on this discussion this evening during dinner?”He nodded. “Sure. 6:00?”“That’s perfect. Try to look at things from my perspective.”* * *Jake was home that evening when I returned. He immediately greeted me with positive news about his apartment search.“Hey, I found an apartment today and signed a lease. I’ll be sharing it with a senior. He seems like a nice guy.”“Great news! When will you be moving in?”“As soon as Amy gets back. The landlord is letting me move in a week early.”“Have you had a chance to think about what we discussed earlier?”“A little,” he replied.“Well, I appreciate that you’re fond of me, but we just barely met and don’t know much about each other. It isn’t best to jump into bed with someone too soon. There are also concerns about unexpected pregnancy, which as a woman are always on my mind.”“I didn’t ask you to go to bed with me, did I?” he protested.“That’s what you implied when you told me you were having fantasies about me while you masturbated. And your almost constant hard-ons, which you don’t exactly hide from me, also make me think that’s what is on your mind.”“I’m only going to be here for a few days, so thought I could have an opportunity to be close to you before leaving.”“So then, exactly what are your expectations for me? Get me involved with you, and then walk out of my life, as though we never met?”“Well, how about if you could just sit next to me while I jerk off. Maybe put your arm around me. Just something simple like that. Nothing major.”“Jake, you didn’t answer my question.”“I think you’re being too cautious?” he argued.“I’ve learned the hard way; believe me.”Jake frowned, obviously frustrated.  “Okay, it’s up to you, but I’m still going to fantasize about you.”I was exasperated. “Let’s sleep on it, alright?”That’s where our conversation ended Tuesday evening. I had trouble falling asleep again for the third night in a row, so decided to pleasure myself to drain tensions. It didn’t help this time, and I ended up getting only a couple hours of sleep. At daybreak, I quietly headed to the bathroom to shower. Along the way, as I passed his room, I glanced in to see what he was up to. He was awake this time, playing with himself. On the way back to my room after showering, I made a point of walking with heavier footsteps to warn him that I would be passing by, but he was expecting me.  He stared right at me, grinning when I reached the doorway.“Come in,” he said in a quiet voice. “Pull up a chair.” He pointed to the chair with one hand.I entered, carried the chair toward his bed and sat down. I kept my legs together to avoid showing him how wet I was, and tugged on my nightgown to pull it down at least to my knees. My heart raced. The last time I had sex with someone was nearly three years ago.“Could you sit a little closer?” he asked.“I can see well enough from here,” I replied, resisting.“No, I would like you to be right next to me.”I hesitated.“Please, Allie.” He stared at me with his big blue eyes, pleading.I couldn’t resist.“Did you sleep well last night?” I inquired.“No, it was hot and humid. I tossed and turned for some while, thinking about you and what we talked about. By the way, aren’t you hot in that nightgown?”“No, I’m just fine.”“Please,” he insisted.“But you’re only going to jerk off, right? Nothing else on the agenda?”“Nope, nothing more serious. Besides, after cumming, I won’t be able to keep going anyway.”I lifted off my nightgown and tossed it onto his face. Surprised, he started laughing, and threw it back at me. We both giggled. I threw it back at him again. This time he kept it, placing it on travesti istanbul his face, and inhaled its scent. That was the last time I ever saw my nightgown. Who knows what he did with it?“Mmmm. This is intoxicating, Allie. Put your hand on my head; play with my hair while I stroke myself. That’s why I wanted you to be right here close to me.”“Is this your fantasy about me?”“One of them,” he replied, smiling.I shuddered, wondering what some of his other fantasies involving me were like. By then I was hot, really hot, and wet. It took a great effort to restrain myself from pleasuring myself at the same time.The disturbing conflict that had haunted me the last couple days still raged within: between my desire to be cautious and safe, and the opposite, equally strong pull to throw caution completely to the wind and submit to my intense lust for Jake. I was reminded of a nightmare I had a while ago. It goes like this:_“I was swimming in a river and noticed a strange current out in the center of the channel. When I swam closer to investigate I saw that it was a whirlpool, swirling rapidly around, sucking everything into it. I became frightened and turned about in order to swim away from it. But to no avail, it was pulling me closer and closer. Resistance was futile, and soon I was being sucked in by the strong vortex. I screamed for help, but no one was nearby. . . .”_That’s how the nightmare ended. And now in a similar way I felt the same sense of helplessness, of being sucked into something I may never be able to get out of. I made my choice, leaped into an abyss and hoped for a safe landing.Jake began by stroking his rigid shaft with his right hand, hardly touching it at all, as if he were trying to make it firm. After a short while, he formed a ring between his thumb and forefinger, rapidly moving his hand up and down across the rim at the base of its swollen head.“Allie, do me a favor, please get my cock wet with your saliva. It’ll work better that way.”I was astonished. “You just told me we weren’t going to have sex. I’m not going to give you a blow job, Jake. I tried that three years ago with a man I was dating, and hated every minute of it. His cum was disgusting, and I spit it out right away. I vowed, never to do it again.”“He was probably drinking heavily,” Jake explained.“Yes, he was. We both were.”“You don’t need to give me a blow job. Just let some saliva fall into your hand, and then rub it on my cock.”“But even then . . .”“I promised you I wouldn’t harm you or force to you have sex, and I meant it,” he repeated.Resistance seemed futile. I did as he asked, leaning over him with a palm-full of saliva, my long, wavy hair tumbling onto his abdomen, and my tits just barely grazing his chest. I carefully poured the saliva onto his cock, and spread it over him with my hand. By then I was more excited than ever, and felt as if I would come spontaneously.“Is that better?” I asked him.“Yeah, much better, thanks.”He resumed stroking, beginning with the same techniques as before, with apparently greater pleasure. He then switched to stroking his shaft with a full hand, using greater pressure, especially as his hand passed over the head of his staff. He varied the strokes, sometimes twisting his hand around its head, or even completely around the shaft.“Allie, look at my eyes, please,” he asked. “Keep looking into my eyes now.”I tried to do as he asked, but couldn’t resist peering in the other direction to watch what he was doing with his hands. He began fondling his balls as he quickened the pace of stroking, tugging on his loose sack, pulling his balls outward. I sensed he was about to reach orgasm, and combed his hair with my fingers. Soon, his whole body grew tense, and he began breathing louder, sometimes wincing, as if in pain. He closed his eyes, groaned quietly, and came with a suddenness that both surprised me and took my breath away. A couple long strands of thick, white cum shot out of his pulsing organ, arching away, and splashing down onto his chest, as if from a water fountain. Soon, the remaining cum gushed out less vigorously, dripping down onto his abdomen. He gasped for breath, and then held his fingers motionless around his withering manhood for a while, breathing hard, as though he had just run a hundred yards. Finally, his body collapsed.

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