Sex Toys for Men
Sex Toys for Men
  1. On the benefits of having a lodger


    Date: 8/11/2015, Categories: Voyeur, Author: deeperblue, Rating: 19, Source: LushStories

    With thanks to my blonde friend, for whom this is written. There are pros and cons to everything. I know that. In the case of taking on a lodger this year, I've been able to pay off the mortgage quicker and get in more holidays too. If that were everything, that would be enough in most cases. But there's other positives, for sure, like having someone to come home to when I've been working late. It's even better that the person can cook. I'd swear I've eaten better this year. And, though it kind of hurts my feminist sensibilities to admit it, is sometimes nice just to have a guy around the house. I'm still not sure my mum approves, mind you. "Catherine," she says (that's me by the way, I'm Catherine, nice to meet you), "what are boys going to think when you bring them back here and they see all his toys cluttering the place up?" Quite apart from the contradiction that she seems to disapprove of me living with a guy I'm not sleeping with but perfectly happy with premarital sex, it's the fact she still calls guys I'm dating boys, even though I'm in my 30s, that I find infuriating. Still, if it winds her up, that's another positive, I guess. There are other pluses mind. Ones that I'm not so ready to admit to to friends, and certainly not my mum. Things like the smell. I'll confess, the smell of Tony (that's his name) when he comes in, fresh off one of "his toys", still dropping in fresh sweat, gets me... Oh god, I'm getting all embarrassed admitting this, but I guess I can say it ...
    because it's just you and me. It gets me wet. Ever since I was a girl, and the boys I would bring home really were boys, the smell "male" has always affected me deeply. My first orgasm, in fact - oh god, why am I telling you this? It wasn't with a boyfriend, it was after a college rugby match and I'd had to interview members of the winning team. The smell of all these fresh young men, stripped to the waist, dripping in testosterone, got me so wound up I had to sneak off to the loos and relieve myself. I was frantic, mind you. I barely made it into the cubicle! I'd wanked before - even thought I'd had an orgasm - but that afternoon, splayed on the toilet, skirt up, knickers down, the smell of 32 young men soaked in sweat and blood still in my nose, the sight of half of them removing their shirts replaying in my mind...I really learnt what an orgasm was that day. Still that's a story for another time. So, there were pluses, but there were downsides. My spare room which had previously functioned as a perfect walk in wardrobe, was full of him and his things. And they weren't confined to his room. The hallway too was full of his toys (mum was right about that), an endless succession of fancy bicycles his job as a bike journalist entitled him to ride about on. And he was a several years younger than me, which lent the arrangement something of the older sister/younger brother vibe, which to extent was kind of true - he was my best friend's younger brother, which was how it had come ...
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