Inspired by a series of tweets on Saturday, this smut is dedicated to Girl on the Net. Writing this actually challenged me more than I expected it to, and it’s a little more cisnormative than I would like my filth to be. For the record, not only folks with dicks are guys, and not only men have dicks. I also realised that writing this kind of scene is very different from experiencing this sort of pervy voyeurism, so I’m open to invitations from anyone organising a cock-stroking and cocktails party.
Your invitation gives you a time, an address, and invites you to a night of debauchery where you can ‘watch cocks being stroked while you sip cocktails’. Upon arrival, the invitation grants you admission to a narrow ballroom – or possibly a conference room – with a well-stocked bar on one side and a long two-way mirror down the other.
Cocktails on one side, cocks on the other side, and a splendid night of pervy voyeurism awaiting you.
The light in the ballroom is dimmed, but not so much that you can’t admire how much everyone has dressed up – in their own, kinky ways – as you move through the room. At the bar, you watch an attendants hands as they mix you a drink and hand it to you with a grin. You sip the cocktail, leaning against the bar and watching women in tight corsets and comfy jeans and leather boots and talk about lube and butt plugs and fisting.
When you walk over to the two-way mirror, you’re not sure why you didn’t come here first – though you suppose if you had you would never have left and missed out on the innuendo-y named drink you’re holding. The sight before you is breath-taking.
The room you’re looking into – and you’re pretty sure it is just one room – is split into cubicles, each with a bright light hanging over each participant so their every movement could be seen in perfect detail. In the centre of each curtained-off cubicle there’s a tall stool. Extensive research has show that this half-leaning, half-sitting position gives the best angle for watching them stroke their dicks – which is exactly what they’re doing. The cubicles give them a little privacy: they don’t have to jerk off in front of each other – even though they’re fully on display to all of the guests – but they can hear each other. The guests can hear them too – instead of soft, classical music filling the ballroom, there are grunts and whimpers. (And whines and moans and the delicious sounds of hand-on-dick.)
Throughout the evening, there are a stream of men who will fill these stools and put on a show. Some haven’t come in days, and their dicks are hard and red and their strokes are quick and desperate. Some are wanking more lazily, their enjoyment at playing with themselves clear on their faces. Some have brought lube or cock rings to use, and some are completely naked while others remain mostly clothed with just their dicks out. And all of them are jerking off for the entertainment and pervy, voyeuristic enjoyment of the guests in the ballroom. From the ballroom, you can see them all, but they can’t see the enthusiastic perverts in the ballroom who are discussing their cocks.
You walk slowly down the ballroom, taking your time to take in every inch of the six guys currently in those stools. The first guy’s dick is hard: in fact it’s so hard and shiny that it looks almost painful. A vibrating cock-ring sits snugly around his balls and the base of his cock, and it looks like he has been playing with his dick for a long time. You imagine entering the room and sitting down on his hard cock, riding him until he can’t hold it back any longer and comes inside you.
The second guy is just getting into position – you watch him hungrily as he rubs at the bulge of his dick through his grey sweatpants. It’s such a pleasing shape, and watching him push them down to reveal his half-hard dick is delicious. He’s not wearing boxers, and he does something brilliantly filthy when he spits into his own hand and then starts to stroke his cock. He plays with his foreskin, biting his lip a little as he rubs his thumb over the tip of his cock.
You watch the third guy come – his eyes closed and his head tilted back and his breath coming in jagged gulps. White spunk spills out of his dick over his fingers, and he smiles in blissful satisfaction. He pumps his cock a few more times, and you can imagine how good that heavy load of come would feel splattering on to your tits.
The fourth guy’s dick is straining against his jeans. He strips fully, and you watch his hands as he takes each item off and folds it neatly. His hands move in decisive, quick strokes, and you swoon at his tattooed forearm with a slight hint of muscle. His cock is thick and he looks like he has the stamina to fuck for a long time.
The fifth guy uses a masturbation sheath, pleasantly translucent so later you can watch him fill it up with his spunk. He is stroking his cock with focus and determination, leaning forwards slightly. His eyes are open and it feels a little as though he is looking directly into you as he jerks off. You blush, even though you know he can’t see you, imagining him fucking your mouth as though it’s only another toy for him to use to get off.
The set-up for the guy at the end is a little different. He is buckled into a St. Andrew’s cross, spread wide and his dick incased in a fucking-machine that’s designed to milk the spunk out of him. You watch him come, and after a second the pleasure and relief on his face is replaced by a look of fear as the machine keeps moving. He moans as it continues to fuck his dick, unrelenting in its mission to rip orgasm after orgasm out of him.
His sounds are the ones you find the hottest, and for a second you close your eyes and revel in the sounds of pervy voyeurism all around you.
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