Not me. While all the other blokes at school were talking about their ‘conquests’ the night before, I was happy wanking on those same girls, when I could watching them for real, or if not using my little black book which recorded everything they did, what they wore, what they said. That’s girl-worship.
Getting obsessed with a girl is easy for a girl-worshipping wanker like me – if She’s just lovely, wears lovely things, behaves like She knows the effect She has on blokes, has a lovely figure, then She’s gonna drive me crazy. Every day I’ll be spunking thinking about Her, and dreaming of doing that seeing Her for real.
Girls back then didn’t show just for anyone, or anywhere, or at the drop of a hat (so I was knocked out when Miss Wendy, my first ever Goddess, put on a stocking-tops show for the blokes). One of the early Goddesses for me was Miss Christine. That’s when I was still at school in my late teens, and I wanked and wanked and wanked on Her, She drove me nuts.
So it was beyond a dream cum true when some of the lads were in the music room, playing rock stuff and Miss Christine came in with a couple of friends. In those days I was glued to the Ready Steady Go! rock show with the RSG dancers – sex-queens who did those go-go dances in their miniskirts, showing their knix all the time. Every time they appeared on screen, my pants were wet within a couple of minutes.
So when Miss Christine, in a short skirt, started to do a go-go dance, I was mesmerised, and She made me cum in my pants in less than a minute. A memory I will never ever forget.
I found at this school that I could see the sports field from the boys’ urinal, and I spent many happy hours there wanking watching the girls at sports. Miss Liz was a leggy, fabulous-looking girl, and to see Her in Her knickers playing basket-ball was instant ecstasy, once a week for several weeks. I absolutely LOVED the guilty, humiliated, pervy furtive way I felt seeing Her in school afterwards.
Miss Maggie had big tits, I always thought 39” though I’d got no way of knowing. What I do know is that She was in my thoughts most days as I was rubbing up and down (‘up-down’, geddit?) on my knob. It was very difficult to find ways of watching girls for real and wanking, unless I was lucky enough to see them walking down my street as I was at my window, knob in hand, but on this occasion Miss Maggie was wearing a tight jumper and I couldn’t think of anything else, just going boss-eyed ogling Her, and then suddenly She hooked Her arms over the back of Her chair, thrusting Her big tits forward, instantly making my head jerk forward as I shot the first of 7 or 8 big gobs of spunk into my pants.
Miss Ann always wore short skirts, and I got many erections – which I could do nothing with – watching Her. I certainly did something with them back at home, i.e. a furious rubbing while chanting Her name until spurts of spunk landed on the sheet of paper with Her name on, a favourite worshipping method.
So when a crowd of us were on the sports field, She was there in Her short skirt playing around with a couple of blokes, which meant frequent and prolonged views of Her knickers which this pervert loved so much, feeling that special intense feeling in the tip of my knob but unable to touch it of course, and it got more intense as She kept showing and showing, views I’d only seen in my mags up till then, and the burning feeling in my tip got hotter and hotter and then turned to exquisite ecstasy as a long flow of pre-cum ran from my knob, soaking into my pants. Still Miss Ann was showing Her knickers and there was nothing I could do to stop my shudders, and I was terrified other blokes would notice, but no-one was looking at me. Phew – another lucky escape, but another lovely pants-spunk on a girl I secretly worshipped.
New to the school was a girlie-goddess called Miss Julie. She just had something about Her, She was pretty, sophisticated, leggy, slim, shapely with a lovely voice, blonde hair and the girl all the boys were attentive too. For me that meant a lot of rubbing, chanting Her name, and being mesmerised as I sat and watched Her in the canteen.
It was end of term, and everyone was going to a party at some bloke’s house, it was mid-day. As always I tagged along though I wasn’t friends with anyone in particular, but all the k**s tended to hang out in a bunch. I’m not sure why I went really, apart from just to ogle girls some more, but that was nearly always frustrating as I couldn’t do anything about it (you can’t rub your trousers with everyone there).
So I was on the point of giving up, hanging around by the front door. I was still watching girls walk by but I’d not seen Miss Julie for a while. The phone went, someone answered and called up the stairs for Julie. My heart jumped, and I saw Her emerge from an upstairs bedroom. I was puzzled – it was about 4 in the afternoon, why would She have gone for a sleep, surely She couldn’t be tired at this time of day?
Then I saw Her head for the stairs, wearing just Her school blouse, unbuttoned at the top and looking like a micro-minidress, She walked down the stairs, Her stocking-tops showing. My mouth hung open as I gawped at Her in disbelief, and by the time She got to the phone my pants were full of cum.
I look back on that now and think, god what if anyone had seen me? They would surely know what was happening to me, what Miss Julie was making me do. This was very early days of pants-spunking for me and I had nothing like the skills of hiding it that I developed later in life. Just the fact that I was gawping at Her open-mouthed would surely have given the game away if She’d looked at me – unlikely that She would I guess. Girls like Her only give attention to the cool guys, and wimps like me don’t exist. Oh yeah, and nowadays of course I know what She was up to in that bedroom.
Then there was my convulsing as knobby shot into my pants without warning – meaning I could do nothing to prevent a big jolt going through me, jerking my head and shoulders forward. I still don’t know to this day if I yelped when that happened – which I usually do when a girl makes me instantly shoot.
I remember that feeling of unrealism, as if I can’t believe this is happening – a Goddess I’ve worshipped pervily for months and suddenly I see Her in what looks like a very short low-cut micro-minidress, and see Her stocking-tops. It’s like an out of body experience, like I’m living a fantasy I never dared dream, it seemed so unlikely.
She must have reached the bottom of the stairs and turned right towards the phone while I was next to the front door (which was open) with violent tremors going through me as She was making me pump spunk into my pants – if I was moaning She possibly didn’t hear me. Now of course I would totally LOVE it if She knew what She’d made me do that day. Then I was standing there dazed as She was talking to whoever it was on the phone.
I didn’t immediately think that there would be a wet patch on the front of my trousers, which would be spreading as the spunk gradually soaked through. I was simply gazing at Her as I subsided, trying to get my head round what had just happened. Whether it was the smell of spunk wafting up, or realising that She would start to look round the hallway as you do when talking on the phone, I don’t know, but I came to my senses and turned round and went through the open front door.
It was only then I looked down and saw this big wet patch and smelt all the cum. God, no-one must see me! My secret would be out – not only is that wimpy Graham a wanker (he’s a loner, never goes out with girls or anything), he cums in his pants! Look at that big wet patch! God he stinks of spunk! Wanker! Creep! Weirdo! My life would be hell.
I walked to the end of the road and onto the cycle track, then into the woods alongside and began the jog home, doing whatever I had to to avoid people seeing. But once home, oh how lovely to see what Miss Julie had made me do! Big, big wet patch of spunk! Right over the front of my trousers! What a stink of cum! Oh Miss Julie, oh Miss Julie! That’s right, I’m chanting and going ‘up-down’ on my knob.
I loved my secret worship when I was at school, but nothing prepared me for what the girls in the offices wore when I started work.