My condition was impossible to conceal. I was stretched out on a towel on the deck of my best friend’s summer house, and I was naked except for a very brief, skintight bathing suit. For the past half hour, my new land-lady, Denise, and I had been having a very erotic conversation, and my erection would have been impossible to miss from fifty feet away. I’d noticed Denise glancing discreetly at the rigid bulge at my crotch. She was sitting cross-legged about five feet away, dressed in a bulky terry-cloth robe that totally concealed her beautiful body.

Denise is a stunning, dark-haired actress in her late twenties, and I wanted her from the moment she appeared in a tiny string bikini for our first trip to the beach. I felt that my attraction to her was reciprocated on some level, but I also sensed that she expected some sort of proper decorum from me as her new time-share renter. We had now spent several mornings lounging on the wide deck and talking freely about everything under the sun. She always encouraged me to talk about my previous affairs and sexual adventures, and on this particular morning, our conversation had become even more intimate and arousing. As a consequence, my cock was as hard as it could possibly be.

Finally Denise said, “You’re a very attractive man, and I admit I’m turned on by you. I’m curious to know you better … more intimately. I would love to see you touch yourself. It would be very exciting for me.” She lowered her eyes and smiled.

Conflicting emotions and desires rushed through me. I wanted to take her in my arms, yet I knew that even if she secretly wanted me to, I didn’t have it in me to risk hurting our professional arrangement. I felt strangely embarrassed. I had never masturbated in front of anyone before, especially a beautiful young woman with whom I had no ongoing sexual relationship. But also, on some deep, forbidden level, I wanted to do what she’d asked, to jerk off right in front of her, here, outside, in the bright morning light. “Okay,” I said.

I reached down and slipped one elastic leg band of my bathing suit up and over to the side, freeing both my penis and my tight, bloated balls. As my cock sprang up, I heard Denise’s slight intake of breath. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered. “I thought you’d have a big one.”

I closed my eyes and gently took hold of the shaft with my fingertips. Slowly, slowly, I began the age-old, instinctive up-and-down motion. Though my eyes were closed, I could almost feel her gaze on my hand, my cock, my balls. I resumed our quiet erotic dialogue because I needed the strange excitement of confession: “Do you like watching me jerk off, Denise?”

Her voice was barely audible. “Yes, I want to see it spurt. I want to watch your face when you come.”

I suddenly stopped what I was doing and opened my eyes, because I had thought of a way to get her to touch me. “Denise, would you take that bottle of suntan lotion over there and put some on my cock?” I longed to feel her cool fingers stroking me, but, just as I feared, she simply handed me the bottle and told me to do it myself. I felt a little foolish pouring the warm lotion into my palm and smearing it over my cock and balls, but it made the flesh glisten in the sunlight and called even more attention to my arousal.

I lay back and resumed mastubating. “I’m going to make myself come for you, just for you,” I said. “This feels so good … and I’m getting close.”

Denise responded, her voice low and tense. “Let it come. I want to see it shooting out.”

Within a few moments, I was at the absolute brink, quivering at the combination of Denise’s soft, seductive voice, her erotic words, the sensual warmth of the sun on my naked body, and the old, familiar feel of my hand working my cock, jacking myself off as I had done hundreds, thousands of times before.

“Denise, I’m going to come,” I gasped as the pleasure suddenly soared through me. Strands of syrupy semen arced up and fell back on my chest, my belly and my hand. My legs tensed and my body shook with the force of the orgasm. And then, as the last drops of semen oozed out of my cock and dribbled down across my fingers, I opened my eyes and looked up at Denise. She was just removing her hand from the folds of her robe, down below her belly. She lowered her gaze and blushed.

“You were doing it, too, weren’t you?” I asked, my speech still ragged and uneven. “You were playing with yourself while you watched me.” She smiled and looked directly at me, nodding. “All right,” I said, “finish what you started.” Denise hesitated and looked at me imploringly. “You’ve got to do it for me, too. It’s only fair. I showed you; now it’s your turn to show me.”

Denise smiled again, opened her robe and leaned back against a wooden bench. Her right hand dipped down between her legs, and she pulled the narrow crotch of her bathing suit to one side, exposing the swollen, glistening lips of her sex. As she parted the bulging labia with one long, slender finger, she said, “I loved watching you. I’ve never seen a man jerk off before. I loved seeing you come so hard. I love the smell of semen. I love its taste.”

She began to stroke herself slowly, almost idly, but she continued speaking, as if words and the erotic images they suggested were necessary to deepen the physical pleasure of masturbation. “I’ve only felt it flowing wet and warm inside me. I’ve never seen it shoot out like it did just now.” Her left hand slipped down inside the halter of her bikini and freed her right breast. She softly plucked at her nipple while her right hand remained occupied between her thighs.

It was my turn to speak, and I wanted Denise to be as intimate and confessional as possible. “You said you like the taste of semen. How have you tasted it?”

There was a pause, and then she replied, “I’ve allowed men to come in my mouth … and I’ve swallowed it.”

Denise was now fingering herself with a different rhythm. Every few moments, her hand moved away from her clitoris and dipped further down so that she could slip her index finger deep inside her vagina. I felt comfortable enough to continue my intimate questioning. “Do you masturbate often?”

“Yes,” she answered. “Almost every day. Sometimes twice a day.”

“And you’ve felt semen shooting into your vagina and your mouth.”

“Yes,” she answered, her voice barely a whisper.

“Have you ever felt it shooting into your ass?”

Denise suddenly stroked herself more urgently, with more passion. “Yes. I’ve felt it there, too.”

“You like telling me these things, don’t you?”

Her reply was low, even, measured. “Yes, I like this. Telling you the most intimate things — secrets while I play with myself, and you watch me.”

I sensed how our talk was adding to her already extremely aroused state and I decided to deepen the erotic mood even further. “Denise, I want you to put a finger in your ass.” She opened her eyes and gazed directly into mine. Then she took her long, glistening index finger out of her vagina and, shifting her hips slightly, pressed it into her tight rear opening. “Keep your finger there, moving in and out of your asshole, and masturbate with your other hand.” Denise closed her eyes and quickened her stroking, softly rubbing her clitoris with just the very tip of her middle finger as the index finger of her other hand probed the depths of her tight rear channel.

While all this was going on, I had been idly stroking my softened cock, and I realized that now, so soon after my first, self-induced orgasm, I was hard again. Denise’s performance, her erotic confessions, were simply too much for me. Without thought or intention, I was masturbating again, jacking off as I watched this beautiful woman stroking herself and fingering her tight little asshole.

Denise moaned, and her hand began to move in a blur. As her orgasm soared through her, her entire body shook and she cried out helplessly. I was pounding my cock wildly, and, at almost the same instant as Denise, I came a second time.

We were exhausted, but as we regained our composure, our eyes met and locked. Denise lifted her chin and gently rounded her lips, blowing me a silent kiss. A few moments passed. Then we smiled at one another wanly, acknowledging that we were both temporarily drained of sexual desire. She wiped her wet and fragrant fingers on her robe, and I tried to mop up the pools of semen that seemed to be everywhere.

A few minutes later, Denise said she felt like having a swim and started down the deck on her way to the ocean. As I watched her leave, it occurred to me that with Denise, I had had one of the most intense sexual experiences of my entire life — and we hadn’t even touched!