#unbuttoned search results

When I was a student I had a job as a pizza delivery driver.

Most of the time it was pretty boring, but you just never knew what you were going to find on your next delivery. It's amazing how some people answer their doors!

The number of times I have had to sneak round the back of the van for a wank after guys coming to the door in all sorts of states of undress. Briefs, boxers, towels and sometimes even totally nude.

I got to know some of the regulars. This guy on the west side of the city, used to order a pizza regularly and I don't think he ever came to the door fully clothed.

At first he came to the door shirtless each time and would nod towards the kitchen and ask me to bring the pizza in. I could see he was undressing me with his eyes as he paid for the pizza and I headed to the door.

I didn't mind. He was in his early 20s and well fit. A real sexy guy.

After a few weeks he began to get a bit more daring. For a couple of weeks there were a succession of boxer shorts and briefs appearances at the door. This, of course, made it more obvious that he was kind of excited at my arrival!

Then came the towel. Nick, the customer (yes we were on first name terms by now) was wet and wearing a towel round his rather nice trim waist. He nodded towards the kitchen and I dutifully went in.

I passed him the pizza as usual and just then by design, or chance. (I suspect the former) His towel fell to the floor.

Nick was naked and his dick was throbbing and rising to the occasion. "Oh well," he said dismissively, "I suppose you have seen it all now!". He made no attempt to collect the towel.

"Fancy a beer?," he asked, adding "You can share some of my pizza." It happened that Nick was my last delivery, so why not?

Still stark naked, Nick headed to the sofa his dick leading the way.

He sat down and I made for another chair. No, sit here, said Nick patting the sofa beside him. I realised this could mean something might happen between us, but Nick was a sexy guy. So, what the heck?

I took a slurp of beer and a slice of pizza grabbing some sneaky looks at Nick's now quite rampant tool that was emerging from the foreskin. Was that a bead of precum forming on its tip? Sure looked like it.

"You are far too dressed," Nick exclaimed, standing up in front of me with his dick just inches from my mouth and deftly sliding off my jacket. He then reached down and started to lift my T-shirt. I did not resist. In truth, I wanted him to strip me naked there and then and wank me off.

Nick stood back and admired his work. "Wow, nice bod you have!”.

He then bent over me and started to undo my belt buckle. My dick was now hard as a rock inside my jeans. Nick clearly noticed and stroked it through the denim. "Very nice," he said. I nearly exploded.

Nick then unbuttoned my jeans and pulled down the fly. I wriggled out of my jeans, untying my shoes at the same time.

I was now sat there wearing nothing but a pair of socks and a big tent in my briefs. Nick worked my dick through the cotton a couple of times and I noticed a damp patch growing form from my own precum.

Nick then pulled off my briefs and started to wank me slowly. I did the same to him until we ended up in a sticky but satisfied mess.

We headed back to his shower where we lathered each other up and showered.

I became quite a regular visitor at Nick's house thereafter... and not always to deliver pizzas.

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Tracy was a smart girl. It never occurred to her she’d receive an A minus.

He was grading too hard. She hadn’t heard any rumours from the lazy students about Professor Richardson being a hardass but Tracy thought it the only explanation for her low grade on the first paper. That or some mistake. Tracy always earned A’s or above.

Still, she read and reread his comments, burning one remark into her brain: “ultimately, your thesis would be stronger with more nuance.”

“More nuance?” That meant she was unoriginal, not unique.

Of course she intended to confront him about it, shooting off an email requesting a meeting in his next available office hours. She thought she would challenge his critiques—weren’t they all relative?—and demand he raise her grade, but when she saw him sitting there, hands folded on his desk, dressed like a professional, she wilted. Worse, she forgot to bring the paper along and so had nothing to refer to when making her arguments. Tracy insisted she had to get a better grade on the midterm assignment since she would be applying to graduate school and asked for help in advance. It sounded like begging.

For his part, Professor Richardson came across friendly but authoritative. He assured her an A minus was a “decent grade”—that was the term he used, “decent grade.” It made Tracy’s skin crawl. “Decent” meant "average." He stressed there was always room for improvement and said he had actually appreciated that she went over the specified assignment length. On her way out, he told her his door was always open but that “next time” she should bring her paper along.

Tracy hoped there wouldn’t be a “next time.” Professor Richardson knew there would.

There was really nothing he could teach the girl about essay writing, but he could still train her, and maybe she’d learn a lesson about negative reinforcement along the way. A negative lesson is learned much deeper than positive reinforcement. If he gave her the A+ she coveted, the girl would turn complacent. And he couldn’t have that. Professor Richardson had plans for Tracy.

So when midterm rolled around, he handed back the class participation grades, giving Tracy another A minus. The mark had its intended effect: the minus made her dependent, kept her compliant, made her aspire. He had dished out the grade so only his approval could sate her need for positive feedback.

He knew something about overachievers: they were tres submissive. Go-getters, to be sure, but that energy could be directed, so that when you said “jump,” they said “over which spanking bench, Sir?”

The girl started overcompensating: dressing to impress, sitting with perfectly erect posture, and shooting her hand up in the air every time he asked a question. When her peers snickered that she was the “teacher’s pet,” Tracy took it in stride.

So did Professor Richardson. When Tracy showed up to deliver her oral presentation in a blazer and skirt combination like the quarterly profits depended on it, he literally held her up after class with a hand on her upper arm and said, “that blazer is cute, but for oral presentations I think it would be more appropriate if your skirt was a touch shorter and your blouse had one less button.”

Tracy held his gaze a moment, then nodded. For the rest of the semester, she arrived in short skirts with her blouse unbuttoned enough to show off her cleavage. For good measure, she augmented her tits with a push-up bra.

Soon everything she did to impress him met with nodding approval but feedback for improvement, and she waited with bated breath for her next grade. She was addicted to evaluation, and hungry for her next fix. All he had to do was orient that hunger around his pleasure.

The first time Tracy found herself on her knees in Professor Richardson’s office to “talk” about the A minus he scrawled on her term paper, she managed to swallow his cock right to its base. After she had wiped his semen from her face and cleavage with some tissues, she lingered around the office. “So…? How did I do?”

Professor Richardson blinked and furrowed his brow at her, as if to say, “you’re still here?” “Oh, uh… it was decent. But I like it when girls play with the cum.”

“Play with the cum?” she asked. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“Yeah, you know… rub the cream off your face with your hand, lick it, swallow it, repeat. Clean up like you’re a pretty little kitty.”

“Like a pretty little kitty?” Tracy nodded. “Okay, I can do that next time.”

“Good girl,” he said, zipping up. “If you do enough of these “bonus assignments,” you’ll earn that A.”

“How about an A+, Sir?”

“We’ll see, Tracy. Run along, now. And don’t wear panties to class tomorrow.”

Tracy was a smart girl. It never occurred to her he wasn't grading a student.

He was grooming a fuckslut.

We were joining a group of friends at a sporting event and Mark and I ended up sharing a room together. I couldn’t believe my luck. I’d had the hots for him since he first joined our circle of friends.

On the first occasion he came round to go for a drink, I had deliberately pretended to get the time wrong and answered the door wearing nothing but a half-buttoned shirt. “Sorry, I thought it was eight o’clock we’d said… I was still in the shower!”

Mark’s gaze seemed to be fixed on something lower down than my face! Just as I had planned! That gave me the idea he might be interested… but, we met up with crowd of friends, so nothing happened that night.

Here we were a few days later, sharing a room. We’d both had a bit to drink (surprise!) and headed up to our room in the wee small hours.

Mark threw off his shirt, revealing a really sexy chest, nips and navel… he looked eminently cuddle-worthy.

I quickly followed suit, then dropped my jeans to reveal the briefest, slightly see-thru briefs that I had been able to find and pack. Mark was staring again.

I went over and sat beside him on the bed.

With uncharacteristic boldness, I put a hand on his knee. He didn’t protest and my cock was now tenting my briefs very noticeably.

“Are you not going to take your jeans off?”, I said.

“Are you not going to take those briefs off? It looks like something is trying to escape!,” Mark retorted.

“I’m waiting for you to release it,” I said.

Mark laughed and unbuttoned the top button of his jeans and said: “Your turn!”.

Soon we were in the bed exploring each others bodies and wanking. It was going to be a great night.

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Joanna
[thanks for sending this, Joanna]

My name is Joanna and I am one of your followers for whom your blog is a guilty pleasure. I have a little memory that I wanted to share with you. Feel free to post it! I would be honoured.





Many years ago my husband and I ran a youth hostel on the south coast of France. It had only a few bedrooms but it sat right on the beach, a beautiful spot in a small village, which made it very popular by young backpackers on Interrail tours. We had a great time receiving guests but my ex-husband had drifted apart and finally ended our marriage in 2002. The divorce was tough and made me feel very lost which is why I decided to continue running the hostel on my own. Being around young people was lovely and helped me deal with the loneliness.

I was already 51 back then but for some reasons I still drew stares. Many young men seemed to admire my curvy, mature appearance. It was humbling and flattering of course but I had no intention of having a little affair because my libido was gone. The divorce had crushed it, I simply was not interested in men at the time.

The autumn after the divorce changed everything. The season was ending and I was already preparing the hostel to close for the winter when, one evening, a tanned young backpacker appeared at the door. He had missed the last train out of town and had seen my small ad that I had put on a wall in the railway station. I felt pity for him and gave him a room. He paid in cash and I even made him a bowl of spaghetti, then showed him to his sleeping quarters. There were no other guests, I was alone with him.

What happened then is something I have kept a secret ever since.

The backpacker – he had turned 18 only a month before! – suddenly pulled me towards him and wrapped his arms around me, touching me, especially my breasts. I froze and could not move while he unbuttoned my long summer dress. He told me that he needed ‘one more thing’ from me before he could sleep. Finally my courage came back and I started to resist him, struggling to get out of his grip, but he was a muscular, strong and amazingly confident boy. A smirk appeared on his face when my dress fell to the floor and I stood naked before him. He then pressed me on the bed, and dove head first between my legs, eating me out. I panicked and kept asking him to stop.

He did no such thing.

“I promise I will not hurt you”, he whispered, his strong hands keeping her in place. “But only if you obey. I need a fuck and you are going to accommodate me. Am I making myself clear?”





I nodded. I had no choice. The backpacker undressed himself too, he had an erection. Within seconds he was on top of me and entered me easily, exhaling in a soft grunt as he pushed his stunningly rigid cock deeper into my pussy. I was speechless since I was amazingly moist. “No, stop …” I moaned, but he started fucking me deep and hard, taking his time until I had become so aroused that I was ashamed of herself. I could not stop it, it happened naturally. Finally I had to give in to the constant stimulation of his beautiful member inside me and I allowed myself to orgasm, something I had not felt in at least 15 years. Almost immediately I felt his answer – an intense throbbing and warm, potent shots of semen splashing into me.



After that he locked the door to the room and took the key, forcing me to stay in the room with him all night and effectively making it impossible for me to get help. He said I should sleep in the bunkbed with him, in the upper bed.

Early in the morning I woke up because he had crawled into my bed. We did not speak, he raped me again. To my own amazement my body reacted immediately. He made me orgasm two times before unloading inside me again. So much sperm!

He showered, unlocked the room, gave me the key, took his backpack, kissed my hand and said that I was the most beautiful and sexy woman he had ever been with. I was speechless. He said that he would have fantasies about me every time he masturbated. Those were his last words, he left me in a very confused state of arousal. I did not get up immediately, I spent another hour in bed, touching and rubbing myself while his loads still dripped out of me.

But he was the last guest I ever had, the experience had been so confusing and overwhelming that I had enough. I sold the hostel and moved back to the UK where I met a nice man of my own age with whom I am still in a relationship.

I am an old lady now of course but I keep thinking back to that young, strong, potent male… Forcing me, enjoying me, seeding me.

I have had the hots for Mark for years. One day we were chatting, when he said he had a problem connecting his webcam to his computer. I tried not to look too excited about the mention of this sexy guy having a webcam!

I asked if he wanted me to come and take a look. "Yea, please," he said. "How about tonight, 8 o'clock?"

I really wanted to make a move on him, but wasn't sure I should. I just knew I would chicken out at the last minute. So I started to plan… I decided to do something that I could not avoid happening.

I have a pair of jeans where the zip keeps bursting open. I suppose most people would throw them out, but I like the risk of exposure when I wear them! With my heart beginning to pound at the thought, I put them on with no underwear and headed to his house.

We went up to his room to look at the computer. As he was standing over me, my heart began to pound, I tried hitching in the seat to see if the zip would pop open. It ddin't.

Then came my opportunity. He had sat down at the keyboard. I suggested we unplug and replug the USB at the back of the computer, realising that manoeuvring to the floor and sliding under the desk was bound to cause the zip to burst. My cock was throbbing as I crawled in with my legs apart right below the object of my desires.

The zip failed to burst. But I continued fiddling with the USB connections, squirming in the process. Suddenly the zip went and my cock flopped out, right below where Mark was sitting.

There was an awkward silence when I wondered if this was all a big mistake. Then Mark said "wow, that's quite a tool".

"I'm sorry my zip's broken!," I said feebly sliding back out from the desk. "Yes, so I see," Mark somewhat impassively. The thought flashed through my mind that this had all been a big mistake.

I stood up and started to fumble to fix the zip and Mark said. "That's OK, leave it! Let it have some air!," he added, laughing.

He appeared to be staring at my gaping fly and rampant tool. I didn't take any persuasion to leave my jeans open.

"You wanna try your cam now," I said. I just about came in my jeans when he deftly typed in Chaturbate on his browser and started up his cam. Up came the camera image showing him sitting there.

"Seems to work," Mark said, leaving the cam on. Soon he had a couple of viewers.

Suddenly Mark swung the camera round to me and my exposed dick

The chat went mad with demands to show more. Mark left the camera facing me. It was clear he was enjoying this. So was I! I could have moved, but i stayed with my half exposed cock on show.

I was not expecting what happened next, though. Mark deftly unbuttoned the top button on my jeans and pulled them down. My cock and balls were now standing proud. Mark stood up and pulled off my T shirt.

This was so hot. I was not only naked in front of this god! But I was also being watched now by more than 100 people. My cock was pretty rigid and as he sat down, Mark gave it a tug. I nearly came on the spot.

The number of viewers was going crazy and the demands for him to show too were growing more insistent.

"Well, aren't you going to take off my clothes, too?," Mark asked. My fingers were trembling with excitement as I pulled off his T-shirt to reveal a beautiful chest and hot nips.

I then popped the button on his shorts and pulled down the zip, sliding them off.
We were now at the very top of the cam list and the demands were still flying.

"I'll stand up and you slide them off, slowly", Mark said. I was only too happy to oblige.

We put on our first show. But it wasn't the last! Any time Mark's parents were away, or out for the evening, I would get the call to go round for some fun.

I'm still going to keep those old jeans with the broken zip. I owe them a lot and you never know when they might come in useful again!

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When I was a student I had a job as a pizza delivery driver.

Most of the time it was pretty boring, but you just never knew what you were going to find on your next delivery. It's amazing how some people answer their doors!

The number of times I have had to sneak round the back of the van for a wank after guys coming to the door in all sorts of states of undress.

Briefs, boxers, towels and sometimes even totally nude.

I got to know some of the regulars. This guy on the west side of the city, used to order a pizza regularly and I don't think he ever came to the door fully clothed.

At first he came to the door shirtless each time and would nod towards the kitchen and ask me to bring the pizza in. I could see he was undressing me with his eyes as he paid for the pizza and I headed to the door.

I didn't mind. He was in his early 20s and well fit. A real sexy guy.

After a few weeks he began to get a bit more daring. For a couple of weeks there were a succession of boxer shorts and briefs appearances at the door. This, of course, made it more obvious that he was kind of excited at my arrival!

Then came the towel. Nick, the customer (yes we were on first name terms by now) was wet and wearing a towel round his rather nice trim waist. He nodded towards the kitchen and I dutifully went in.

I passed him the pizza as usual and just then by design, or chance. (I suspect the former) His towel fell to the floor.

Nick was naked and his dick was clearly rising to the occasion. "Oh well," he said dismissively, "I suppose you have seen it all now!". He made no attempt to collect the towel.

"Fancy a beer?," he asked, adding "You can share some of my pizza." It happened that Nick was my last delivery, so why not?

Still stark naked, Nick headed to the sofa his dick leading the way.

He sat down and I made for another chair. No, sit here, said Nick patting the sofa beside him. I realised this could mean something might happen between us, but Nick was a sexy guy. So, what the heck?

I took a slurp of beer and a slice of pizza grabbing some sneaky looks at Nick's now quite rampant tool that was emerging from the foreskin. Was that a bead of precum forming on its tip? Sure looked like it.

"You are far too dressed," Nick exclaimed, standing up in front of me with his dick just inches from my mouth and deftly sliding off my jacket. He then reached down and started to lift my T-shirt. I did not resist. In truth, I wanted him to strip me naked there and then and wank me off.

Nick stood back and admired his work. "Wow, nice bod you have!”.

He then bent over me and started to undo my belt buckle. My dick was now hard inside my jeans. Nick clearly noticed and stroked it through the denim. "Very nice," he said. I nearly exploded.

Nick then unbuttoned my jeans and pulled down the fly. I wriggled out of my jeans, untying my shoes at the same time.

I was now sat there wearing nothing but a pair of socks and a big tent in my briefs. Nick worked my dick through the cotton a couple of times and I noticed a damp patch growing form from my own precum.

Nick then pulled off my briefs and started to wank me slowly. I did the same to him until we ended up in a sticky but satisfied mess.

We headed back to his shower where we lathered each other up and showered.

I became quite a regular visitor at Nick's house thereafter... and not always to deliver pizzas.

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Jake (not his real name) was a student working with our office over the summer. He was about 18 or 19 and I was just three or four years older. I found it hard not to get horny every time he was around. He was so hot, with long hair, slim but not too skinny.

We had to go and set up this mobile exhibition unit for the company. The event was on Saturday, so on Friday afternoon we duly arrived to set up. It was a messy business, so I had told Ian to take old clothes.

We parked the trailer and I suggested we get changed and went into the van, Jake followed. There I was trying not to get excited as I stripped to my carefully chosen most daring briefs (I had planned it out that we would change together!) in front of this really sexy guy. I glanced across to get a sneaky peek as he took off his shirt to expose a chest that was even more delectable than I had thought. He looked at me and I thought he must have seen the growing bone in my briefs. It was almost as though he had looked to make sure I was watching as he unbuttoned his jeans and let them drop.

Then I noticed he a big bold slogan across the bulge in his well-filled white briefs. "Penalty for improper use" it said, above a picture of the old emergency stop chain on trains. My heart pumped faster. This seemed like an encouragement to comment, at the very least.

Normally the type who kicks myself afterwards for missing opportunities, I was surprised and almost shocked when I heard myself comment : "So what's the penalty, Jake?",

My words seemed to hang in the air forever as I wondered whether he would be angry or upset. After what seemed like a long time, he grinned and laughed: "That's for you to find out!".

"OK, that sounds like a challenge," I was shocked to hear myself say. Ian laughed and smiled.

I needed no more encouragement and walked over close to him to note his reaction. He showed no defensive body language standing with his arms hanging loosely and his stomach and briefs unprotected. I looked at him and he smiled again and said, "Go on then!".

I reached my hand out and stroked the front of his briefs, feeling the warmth of his cock through the soft cotton. I felt it throb in response and felt his hand touch me. I stroked my hand up and over the waistband, probing down through the pubic hair till I touched the smooth skin of Ian's hard cock.

"Mmm", was all he said. I moved my hand down along the shaft, to find the foreskin already tight and slid my hand down to cup Ian's balls. He gave out more clearly pleasured tones.

With my other hand I started sliding down Ian's briefs, until his cock popped out to attention. I started to slowly wank him as he slid his hand into my briefs.

I was near exploding but held off to enjoy the occasion to the full. Both of us were standing naked now exploring each other's bodies, wanking and stroking. Ian came first with hot creamy bursts, then me.

We gave each other a hug and agreed we should get the work done. Changing into our old clothes, both of us used every excuse to touch the other and fondle through the clothing.

After we had finished setting up we returned to our hotel, buying drinks on the way. My excitement was racing. Well, who wanted to spend the night in the bar. I think each of us knew we had better things to do.

The company had booked two rooms in the hotel that night. We collected both keys, but when we came to the first room it was unspoken. We both entered and soon clothes were flying as we stripped each other naked and laid down on the bed for what turned into the most gloriously sexy night I had ever experienced.

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