In Celebration of Handjobs

They made us sleep in different tents on the team away day, boys with boys and girls with girls, no mixed-sex sharing.

We were all responsible adults, well-paid, respected professionals, but they were right to do so, obviously. We couldn’t be trusted. After a day of meaningless team activities, we’d found a pub and we’d all got stuck into the drink. The organisers tried to stop us, they said we had evening activities planned, but we told them to fuck off. We’d had enough. We drank and we flirted, and we bonded better than we had all day.

We eventually stumbled back to our tents, grumbling that the senior managers had been too stingy to fork out for a hotel, despite how much money we made for them. I’d been laughing with Isabelle all day, sharing filthy looks, and I was horny as a teenager in summer, and I tried to kiss her behind the tents. She pushed me away though. She told me there too many people around. I was pissed off, and I slunk away to my tent nursing a throbbing erection.

To make matters worse, I was sharing with Martin, boring, dull, talks about nothing but work Martin. I was polite, for a minute or too, but then I pretended to fall asleep so he’d stop talking.

Frustratingly, I couldn’t actually fall sleep though. I kept my eyes closed, and I tried as hard as I could, but my head was spinning from the drink, and my cock was still hot and pulsing. It wouldn’t go down. It was tormenting me. Martin started snoring softly, as if he was taking the piss out of me.

I kept trying to sleep, but I got more annoyed and more horny. I considered bringing myself off with my hand, but what if Martin woke up and caught me? Mortifying wouldn’t be the half of it. I thought about getting up and going for a wank in the trees.

But then I heard the zip of my tent inching open. It moved slowly, up and around, a gap of night-time sky appeared in the fabric, and then Isabelle’s face was in the tent. Beautiful, naughty, grinning Isabelle.

She slid in next to me. I tried to speak, but she put her finger against my lips. She looked over at Martin to check he was asleep, and then she kissed me.

She tasted of toothpaste and whisky. Her breath was hot and her tongue slid into my mouth. We kissed harder and we pawed at each other. I opened my sleeping bag up and she got into it with me.

I rubbed Isabelle’s tits through her t-shirt, then I got hand up it and I touched her naked skin. Her skin was warm and smooth, her breasts were full, her nipples thick and hard. She stroked a hand down my body and into my underwear.

I felt like a teenager again, drunk, unbearably horny, but trying to keep quiet. I groaned as Isabelle’s fingers wrapped around my aching cock, and she pulled her face back and shushed me. She grinned at me again though.

Isabelle kept her hand still for a moment, she just held me, and it felt like I was pulsating in her hand. Fuck, I was so turned on. I was desperate. She moved her hand back and forth, only slowly, but it sent ripples of pleasure deep into me and I had to bite my lip to stay quiet.

I tried to put my hand into Isabelle’s jeans, but she wouldn’t let me. She whispered that she was here to see to me, and that was all. She squeezed my cock harder and moved her hand faster, and I found it was good enough for me.

Isabelle kissed me roughly though, and she pressed her body against mine, and I could feel how turned on she was too. She moved her hand faster and I moaned against her lips, and Martin stirred. We looked at each other, we tried not to giggle, but Isabelle didn’t stop.

I moaned again. I couldn’t help it. I was dying for relief and her touch was perfect. She held me tight, she seemed to know exactly what rhythm to use, and a tension built deep inside me. Each pass of her hand brought it closer to breaking.

Isabelle ground her hips against my thigh as she kissed and tugged at me. A tingling sensation filled my dick, it came on harder and harder, and I couldn’t keep quiet. It felt too good. I moaned again and Isabelle clamped her free hand over my mouth. She hovered over me, smiling and watching my face as she brought me closer.

I looked up at Isabelle, it felt so intimate, and the tension came on stronger. It filled my body, we stared at each other, she moved her hand faster and faster, and it happened. The tension burst and molten pleasure rushed up through my cock. It reached the tip of me and white, blinding light filled my head as I came.

I groaned over and over into Isabelle’s hand, my dick pulsed as waves of pleasure rolled through me, and I felt it surging out of me. Isabelle giggled in my ear.

She kept moving her hand back and forth and I kept coming. She smeared my jism all over my cock to lubricate her fingers and she kept moving until she was sure I was done.

Isabelle kissed me and let go of my cock. She lifted her hand to her face and she looked at me and smiled that wicked smile of hers as she licked her fingers. Oh you beautiful, naughty, perfect woman, how I wish you were mine.

Isabelle kissed me again and then she slid back out of the tent and she was gone. I fell into an instant and deep sleep.

Martin seemed none the wiser in the morning.

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