The Reluctant Entertainer

I looked down, and to my humiliation, there was not just a drop of pre-cum, but a thin strand of it, hanging off the tip of my cock and waving about four inches beneath. "May I have that?" Rachel asked. Linda said of course, and with that, the young woman leaned forward, stuck out her tongue, and caught the hanging end of the strand. When it touched her tongue, she moved upward, tracing it toward my cock. Reaching my cock, she licked the tip and ran her tongue once around the entire head. The feeling was so good, and so intense, that I groaned loudly and my whole body shook.

Rachel leaned back in her seat, licked her lips and said, "Thank you; that was delicious." And with that, Linda happily announced that it was time for me to masturbate for everyone.

"Remember, he's not allowed to cum, but we want him to get as close as possible. Once he gets 'right there,' he makes the greatest faces!" She made a big show of handing me the jar of Vaseline, and said, "Entertain us, Pete."

Since the jar was right in front of me, I took it without thinking. Even putting some of it on my cock wasn't that hard, as I got to look down, away from their staring eyes. I closed the jar, put it on the table, and then made the mistake of looking up.

How do you look at four, fully-dressed women staring at you, and begin to masturbate? My hand kept pulling itself back, reflecting my total humiliation at what I was supposed to do now. Finally, Linda said, "I don't care how embarrassed you are right now, Pete. I want some ACTION." She said that last word with more emphasis than I thought was necessary, but she made her point. My hand reached for my penis, and I began to stroke.

If it was difficult to strip in front of those women, it was ten times as hard to masturbate for them. Actually jerking off was not difficult - I'd been practicing since I was a teenager- but the first time I shuddered I found out that my audience was going to give a running commentary on my performance. "Aaah - I saw that!" Rachel said, and the others all chimed in with how "cute" it was. Then, when I couldn't hold back any longer, and my mouth fell open and I groaned, Fran said, "Linda, you were right about the faces he makes!"

Linda answered that I was just getting warmed up, and she instructed me to start playing with my nipples as I jerked off.

I said that it drove me crazy when she touched my nipples; they are very sensitive, and even my own touch sends sparks from there to my groin. But in order to do that to myself, my position had to be even less dignified: with my right hand on my penis, my left arm has to be all the way out to the side in order to reach my left nipple. When I began, Linda smiled, stood up, and came to stand next to me. She whispered in my ear, "I want you to look down at your body, and see what we are seeing. Then I want you to look each woman in the eye, and when you have done that, I want you to get as close to cumming as you can. You're turning all of us on, and to make sure no one feels uncomfortable, I want you to make the most noise and the funniest faces you possibly can. Do you understand?"

I nodded, she sat down, and at that moment I decided to give up. I decided that there was no way I was going to come out of this with any dignity left anyway, so I might as well make my lover happy and do as she said. So I did.

I looked at each woman - at Fran, at Ronit, and at Rachel - and I stroked my cock and played with my nipple the way I do when I want to make myself cum. I began to shake and spasm, and I had to remind myself to keep looking at them every time my eyes started to roll back in my head. I can only imagine what faces I made, and I filled the room with pants, groans and moans of pleasure.

I was masturbating in public.

As Linda instructed, I got close - VERY close. I let go of my cock, and looked at my audience as it "danced" - jerking up and down, desperately searching for something to touch it so it could cum. As soon as it stopped, I started stroking again, and brought myself to the edge a second time. This time, I was so close that I had to move my legs - taking little steps forward and back, which diverts some of the sensation from my groin and prevents the orgasm.

Suddenly, the room was very quiet. Everyone was looking at me, but no one was saying anything. I noticed that Ronit and Rachel were rubbing their legs together, and Fran - the free spirit of the group - was actually rubbing her crotch through her pants. Linda was smiling as she looked at me and at her guests, and I knew she was getting wet - she said watching me perform always made her wet, even when it was just the two of us. Now, knowing that we would have sex as soon as the other left, she was visibly enjoying the anticipation.

I gave myself over completely to my "performance." After getting close a half-dozen times, I actually took the initiative and walked over to the women sitting on the couch, and continued to do it right in front of them. When I made my cock "dance" once again, Fran let out a soft moan, and Ronit closed her eyes tightly, obviously busy with a private moment.

Just as I realized that I was really enjoying myself, Linda interrupted. It was as if she could read my mind, and the thought that I was relaxing was too much for her to bear. "Now it's time for the souvenirs," she announced.

I had no idea what she was talking about until she produced my digital camera from behind the chair. When she told the women that each of them could have a picture of me to take home, my discomfort returned full-time. I stopped masturbating, and stood there in shock.

"Each of you can have your choice of pictures: one of Pete alone, standing naked and looking at the camera, or one of him masturbating with one of those great faces he makes, or one of you standing next to him while he does it. What would you like?"

"You can't... you can't do that!" I protested. "You can't give them PICTURES!"

"Of course I can, silly man. I can do anything I want. Besides, everyone has promised to keep the pictures for themselves; they aren't going to share them with anyone. But after such a lovely evening, why wouldn't they want to have something to, ah, 'remember you' by?"

I started to speak, and she told me to be quiet and to pose like a good boy.

Rachel spoke first. "I'd like one of him jerking off." Then Ronit said that she'd like that, too. Linda said, "Great," and instructed me to go back to the middle of the room, and to "give us another show." Then she told the two women to watch me and tell her when they saw what they wanted. She sat on the couch directly between them, and ordered me to look straight at the camera as I jerked off.

It took forever to get hard, because of my shame and my fear, and also because I knew that when I "let go," I was going to be preserved on film. Finally, my hand worked its stuff and I felt myself getting excited. As a wave of pleasure shot through me, Ronit said, "Now!"

The flash went off as I groaned, and I thought about how ridiculous people look when they are having sex. Not only was I sure I had looked that way, but I knew I would get to see it in a few minutes when we printed out Ronit's "souvenir" for her.

Rachel waited until I was right on the brink of cumming; I don't know how she knew, but just as I drew in a breath and was about to pull my hand away, she shouted, "That's it!" The flash fired again, and I had to take those little steps to keep from cumming.

When that was done, we all looked to Fran. She got up, walked over to me, fixed her hair a little and said, "I want a picture of you looking at me when you get that close again." She stood next to me - the fabric of her shirt against my naked, stroking arm - as I did what I had to do.

She never took her eyes off me. Every time I closed my eyes in response to the pleasure, she whispered, "Look at me." She didn't smile, she didn't move a muscle; she just stared at me until I was so close I cried out, and the camera flashed. Then, without a word, she returned to her seat.

"Now, we'll all stay her while Pete prints out a beautiful full-page copy of each of your pictures. Right, Pete?"

Sitting in front of Linda's computer, seeing each of the three images as it came out of the printer, was an entirely new kind of embarrassment. Now, naked but not masturbating, I was faced with my "funny faces" in full color. I saw what they had seen, and now I had to give each of them their "souvenir." When I distributed them, it was clear that the sexual tension had receded for them, too, because Rachel said, "God, you look funny!" and the others all shared their pictures and pointed out every amusing element in each.

Linda and I walked them to the door - of course, I was still naked - and thanked them for coming over. As soon as the door closed, Linda told me to lie down on the floor. She was soaking wet, and without any foreplay at all (or rather, after ALL THAT foreplay), she got on top of me and slipped my cock inside her.

The whole time we fucked, she told me how much she loved seeing me like that. She loved seeing what I did, and she loved how often I blushed. She loved that I got into it, and that I turned her friends on. She came - long and deep - as she talked, then got up and said, "I've had a long day; let's go to sleep." I arose from the floor, my erection painfully waving in front of me, and followed her up the stairs. As she drifted off to sleep she said, "You can't cum for another 11 days."

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