The “Me Date” Ch. 02


Life took on an entirely new perspective after my participation in Honey’s Me Date. It was impossible for me to concentrate on anything other than the erotic events that took place. I kept obsessing about the smell of her body — a mixture of sweat and sex. The sight of her voluptuous breasts, crimson with animal heat, nearly exploding with her orgasm; an orgasm she had produced using a semen-soaked tissue that she found in my trash. All of that happened on Friday, and I had been playing with myself so much since then that my penis was sore as hell. I really needed to let it let it recuperate for a day or two.

Considering the extent to which my adolescent-like sexual practices had been exposed, I didn’t know how I could face Honey without being overcome by shame and embarrassment. On the other hand, I desperately wanted to see her again, and I was sick with worry that she would not invite me to another one of her Me Dates.

Our first meeting was a chance encounter in the lobby of our building. She was headed out while I was returning to my apartment.

“Hi Mr. Horny,” she said with a smile. “I’ll bet you’ve been ‘thinking about me’ a lot the last few days.”

I felt a blush traverse my body as I realized that the phrase “thinking about me” was code for fantasizing about her while masturbating.


I knew right then that my period of recuperation would have to wait. I entered my apartment and had an erection by the time I slipped out of my jeans and underwear. I gazed at myself and thought about Honey looking at me. I thought about her showing me her breasts and how they radiated her body heat. I thought about her examining the tissues I had cum into and getting turned on by them. How I wanted to see her again. How I wanted to make her proud of me. I stroked myself slowly and thought about her seizure-wracked orgasm as I released three strong streams of cum onto my stomach. Not bad considering the workout I had been giving myself during the past few days.

The next day I received the gift of my life. There was a brown envelope in my mailbox that bore only my name. I virtually ran back to my apartment. My hands were trembling when I opened the package. Holy mother of God it was a pair panties! Not only panties, but dirty panties — very dirty panties. The front of them was crusted with vaginal lubrication and dried semen. And there was something else; inside the panties was one of Honey’s little glass vials!

“Remember these?” the note said. “I thought they would help you do your homework for my next Me Date Saturday night. But don’t go overboard because I may want you to perform.”

Needless to say I was bowled over by Honey’s invitation. My first thought was overwhelming joy at the knowledge that I was going to attend another Me Date. What the hell did “perform” mean? I didn’t have a clue, but the notion filled me with excitement (and apprehension). My next thought was even more exciting. Clearly I was expected to present her with a sample of my semen. The thought of handing someone a vial that I had obviously masturbated into was so embarrassing that I couldn’t even give such a sample to a nurse after my vasectomy. How could I give one to Honey knowing she would be scrutinizing and evaluating it? Nevertheless, it was clearly my admission ticket to her Me Date. My final thought was one of dread. I knew I had only one chance to use those wonderful panties, and that if I expected to be able to “perform” I would need to abstain from having another orgasm until Saturday night — almost five days! How on Earth could I last that long without going crazy?

I decided to worry about that problem when I had to. My penis was already hard, but I told myself to take it slowly and enjoy my last session for what would undoubtedly seem like an eternity. I removed my shirt and jeans and took a few moments to admire the shape of my erection; still concealed by my white underpants. I positioned it so that the tip was pointing upwards and held against my body by the elastic waistband. My little slit was staring up at me. I moved my hand gently up and down my cotton-covered shaft, feeling its hardness. My other hand lightly fingered my testicles through the soft material. I grabbed the little glass vial and sat down on the edge of my bed.

It was time for me to examine those panties more closely. They were, indeed, the same white cotton ones she had cum all over during the Me Date. I recalled how she had pushed them into her crack and rubbed my semen-soaked Kleenex up and down them as she masturbated. I carefully examined the inside. There was a lovely blonde pubic hair stuck to the solidified goo. I examined it closely and imagined where it had come from. I pressed the gusset of my precious prize to my nose and inhaled deeply. The sent of her feminine juices was strong and exhilarating. My penis was demanding immediate attention, but I kept drinking in the profoundly compelling aroma — imagining Honey’s glistening lips.

I stood up and inched down my underpants. My bursa escort erection was pointing at the sky bobbing up and down slightly with the beating of my heart. I thought about what it would be like to show it to Honey. The size was respectable when hard, but a disappointment when not. Fortunately, Honey wasn’t likely to see it soft — at least not at first. I pressed the tip of my organ tightly against my body and released it. The rigid shaft sprang back into its original position after bobbing up and down a few times. Would Honey find that effect titillating? Would I have the nerve to demonstrate it for her? I hung her panties over my protruding erection and watched them dangle. After a while, I gave myself a few long strokes and settled back into my bed.

Even though my penis was still red and sore I knew I was building to one hell of an orgasm.

I lay back and pressed Honey’s panties firmly under my nostrils, breathing in the delicious fragrance over and over. I could feel the roughness of the stains on them against my nose. I decided to rub my penis with them. The panties felt incredible moving up and down over the sensitive skin. I thought about how they had been next to Honey’s labia, soaking up her sweet essence.

Up and down, up and down. The pressure building.

I needed to smell her again. I positioned the panties over my nose and began rubbing my cock in earnest despite the soreness. One hand stimulated the underside of my glans while the other lightly caressed my balls. I was approaching the cliff. My strokes were getting faster and precum started oozing out of my opening. I felt the warmth beginning to spread, but I didn’t want to cum yet. I stopped until the feeling passed. I repeated this process two or three more times, stopping just before the point of no return. The electric feeling was growing in intensity each time. I felt like I was stoned but I wasn’t. I didn’t think I could do it again without going over the top so I gave myself permission.

I sat on the edge of my bed, wrapped the panties around my dick and used them to continue my stroking. I felt dizzy and was bathed in sweat. My hands were trembling and my heart was racing. The tingling started in my hands and feet and began to move slowly towards my cock. My hand was pumping furiously and the pressure continued to mount.

At last, I experienced that sweet moment of inevitability. I thought of Honey watching me as the room dimmed. I managed to position the vial over the tip of my penis just in time. It was like an out of body experience as I watched stream after stream of watery semen splash into that vial. I lost count of how many times I squirted, but I remember wondering how my body had been able to produce so much given my depleted state.

I hoped Honey would be pleased, and I couldn’t wait to show her my “homework”. I put the vial into my fridge and passed out on my bed. I had not slept so soundly in years.

The next morning I awoke to the wonderful memory of that session. The thought of doing it for Honey was a major turn on. I wanted to do it again immediately, but then the horror of reality hit home. I had promised myself that I was finished until the Me Date. But Saturday seemed like forever. I didn’t know if I could resist the temptation. My penis was already hard; begging for attention.

“Perhaps just one more time,” I told myself. But then I realized once more would lead to yet another and I would never be able to stop. I felt like a drunk who knew that total abstinence was the only answer. I decided to suck it up and meet this formidable challenge. Besides, if you can’t keep a promise to yourself, who can you keep it to?

The next few days started out to be difficult and ended in pure anguish. I couldn’t focus on anything but Honey and the sexual gratification I needed so desperately. My thoughts ranged from visions of her glorious breasts and the incredible sent of her soiled panties to fantasies of the different ways she might order me to “perform” for her at the Me Date.

People at the office worried about job-related stuff, television shows came and went, life around me continued on as usual, but I couldn’t concentrate on anything but my aching need for sex. I spent hours daydreaming about our Me Date, reliving old sexual encounters and wishing I could masturbate. By Friday night I thought I was going to have to tie my hands to the bedpost to keep from playing with myself in my sleep. Fortunately, I had decided to wash Honey’s panties so they would not lead me astray. I was a mess. Thank God my wait was almost over. The only salvation was knowing that if Honey allowed me to ejaculate during her Me Date, I was more than ready.

Finally, the appointed time arrived. I put Honey’s clean panties and my “homework” into the pocket of my jeans and headed to her apartment. I was literally trembling with anticipation.

The scene that awaited me was almost the same as our first Me Date. Candles, classical music malatya escort and marijuana. Honey, on the other hand, was a bit different. She was clearly stoned, but she was also sexier. Her short blonde hair was disheveled. She looked like she had just had sex. She wore a blue jean mini skirt and a plain white blouse that buttoned in the front. I fought off a tinge of disappointment because I could see she was wearing a bra.

“Come on in Mr. Lonely. Have you been looking forward to my Me Date?”

“That’s the understatement of the century,” I said with a sheepish grin.

“You understand that the same rules apply, right? This session is all about ME. Every thing I do is because I want to and what you might want is irrelevant. If you get turned on that’s fine, but that simply isn’t my concern. I need and look forward my Me Dates and having to worry about someone else during them would defeat the purpose. You still OK?”

“Uh huh.”

“OK, let’s get you stoned.”

I smoked the joint Honey gave me and realized my body had never been so primed for sex play. My long period of abstinence combined with the dope had me absolutely tingling with anticipation, and my mind was totally uninhibited. I felt like I could do or talk about anything.

Finally, Honey looked at me sweetly and said, “Have you been a good boy? Did you do your homework?”

I had almost forgotten about my admission ticket. I produced the vial, warm from being in my pocket, and handed it to her.

She looked at it carefully, tipping it from side to side so she could judge the consistency and volume.

“How many times did it take you to make this?”

“Just one.”

“Are you sure? Don’t you lie to me. This looks more like two or three sessions. Did you really do it in only one?”

“I’m sure. Your panties had me really turned on, and by the time I let myself cum I was so excited that I shot a bunch of times. It’s lucky I managed do it in the vial.

“It looks watery.”

“That’s because I’d been jerking off so much just before your “invitation” arrived. When I was a kid sometimes I would do it so often my semen would be almost like water. I guess that means my body was practically making it on the spot.”

“Cool. This will be a first for my collection. At least it’s nice and white, not clear like water.”

She opened the vial and inhaled deeply.

“Very nice Mr. Watery Cummer. Did you smell it?”

“No way!”

“Then come here and share it with me.”

I sat next to her on the couch. The energy radiating from her body was palpable. She wore a subtle perfume that blended with the dope and smell of the burning candles. She moved close to me so we could both smell the vial together. I had never thought the smell of semen could be erotic, but I had never experienced it in this context. I knew Honey had just given me a new turn-on.

“When did you make this?”

“Almost five days ago.”

“And you haven’t masturbated since?”


“Good boy! I’ll bet you’re about ready to explode.”

“No comment.”

“Masturbation is important to you, isn’t it?”

“Yes, especially now.”

“I’ll bet you feel guilty and ashamed about doing it so much at your age.”

“Maybe not as much as you think. My mom really helped me in that department.”

“Really, tell me about it.”

“Well, I remember her talking openly to me about sexual development, and that it happens to everyone at different times. She also talked about how everyone’s body is different and that those differences are a good thing. She also told me about masturbation and that it’s something everyone does and that it’s OK.”

“Did she know when you started doing it?”

“Oh yes, she actually encouraged me. When I was growing up I was in my bed one night falling asleep when this strange but very nice feeling developed in my body. I had no idea what it was, but I sure knew it felt good. But then, the nice feeling was quickly followed by a sharp pain. Fortunately, the pain disappeared just as quickly as it arrived. I didn’t think that much about it until the same thing happened a night or two later. This process continued for what must have been weeks. I don’t really remember how long, but it got so I would look forward to the really nice feeling and brace myself for the pain. Well, one day, instead of the pain, some stuff squirted out of my penis! Even though my mom had told me about such things, I didn’t really make the connection to myself. My first thought was that she would kill me for messing up my sheets. But then I figured it really wasn’t my fault and there was nothing I could do about it anyway, so I just went to sleep. When I woke up, I was relieved to see that you could barley tell where the stuff had come out. It had dried to be virtually clear with only a faint yellowish tinge. I figured my mom wouldn’t even notice. Boy was I wrong.”

“That night at the dinner table, my mom looked at my father and said, çanakkale escort ‘Guess what? Our boy has become a young man! I found a big, beautiful semen stain on his sheets today!”

“Of course I was mortified, but my mom continued.”

“Did it feel good when you ejaculated, Honey?”

“I just wanted to crawl under the table and die. ‘I guess so,’ I managed to stammer.”

“That’s nice Sweetie. You know you can make yourself feel that way again any time you want. Remember when we talked about masturbation? Now you’re finally old enough! All you have to do is rub you penis in a way that feels good. First it will get hard. That’s called an erection. Then, if you keep doing it, that nice, nice feeling will start in your tummy and you’ll get more and more excited. Your heart will beat faster, your face and chest might get a little flushed and then that feeling will get stronger and stronger until semen squirts out of your penis. The incredibly strong feeling that happens just before you do is called an orgasm and the semen coming out is called an ejaculation. That’s what happened to you in bed last night. Did it happen all by itself, Honey, or did you make it happen by touching yourself?

I was embarrassed to the hilt by her telling me all of this, but it was also kind of exciting.

“I didn’t do anything, mom, it just happened.”

“That’s fine Honey. That’s the way it usually works the first time. But I don’t want you to ever feel guilty or ashamed when you do it to yourself. Masturbation is a very important part of life — especially at your age. Everyone does it, and I mean everyone.”

“I thought about asking if she and dad did it, but I didn’t have the nerve.”

I guess it didn’t take a genius to figure out what was on my mind because then my mom said, “Honey, if you don’t want your dessert, I think you can be excused.”

There was a tender, knowing smile on her face.

“The bathtub is a great place to experiment. You can use the soap to help you rub yourself and you don’t have to worry about making a mess when you ejaculate because your semen will just go down the drain.”

“So that’s the first time I did it. Needless to say, that bath changed my world, and my mom’s making it OK was a huge gift. I really appreciate it to this day. That night I was lying in bed wishing I could take another “bath” when my mom came in.

“You know,” she said softly, “you don’t have to be in the tub to do what you did today. In fact, you can do it right here in you own bed whenever you want.”

“She handed me a box of Kleenex and told me to use them to clean myself up and to put them in the wastebasket afterwards.”

“And don’t worry if you get some on the sheets, Sweetie; moms love seeing the evidence of a new man in the house!”

“So it was your mom that taught you about using tissues.”

“Yea, I guess you’re right, although I never really thought about it before.”

“That’s very sweet. They say that masturbation helps men learn how to control themselves for when they have real sex. Do you think that’s true with you?”

“I guess I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Well, do you ever take yourself just to the edge and then stop before you cum. Then do it again and again, until you finally allow yourself to go all the way?”

“Yes, in fact, that’s one of the reasons I was able to do so well on my homework assignment.”

“Well, learning when to stop helps you control your ejaculations during real sex. Do you think you can control yourself for me?”

“I’d sure like to try.”

“Let’s find out. First you need to be examined, and if I’m satisfied we’ll see if you are able to control your body like a man.”

She slowly unbuttoned her shirt, staring into my eyes the whole time. She slipped it off her shoulders and let it fall away. Her hands went to her tiny bra-covered breasts.

“Do you recognize your old friend? It’s the same one I left for you in the laundry room.”

My penis was already hard and I tried to adjust it without being too obvious.”

She slipped her right hand under the bra and started rubbing her left nipple. Both of them started to respond.

“I love caressing my breasts. My nipples are soooooo sensitive. Especially when I’m stoned.”

Abandoning her nipples for a moment, she reached back and undid the clasp; allowing the bra to fall slowly to her lap exposing her small hard buds.

I could feel the heat radiating from her delectable breasts and I thought I might cum right there. She let me admire them for a few minutes before slipping out of her skirt.

“Are you getting turned on Mr. Gawker? I hope so, because that’s the only way we can test whether you can control yourself. Now take off your shirt and jeans.”

I stood up and inched the tee shirt over my head. I didn’t know if she was turned on my by hard, flat stomach, but I decided to do what I could to show off my well muscled physique. Next came the pants. There was an embarrassing tent where my erection strained against the white cotton boxers. Honey smiled and ordered me to sit down with my legs crossed facing her on the couch.

I adjusted my pole so it was pointing upwards. Honey reached over and held tightly onto the tip of my aching penis and slid her fingers up and down slightly, forcing the taught skin to move with them.