HOMEMADE PORN MILF VOYEUR. UPDATED DAILY FREE

TITLE: My Five-Star Airbnb Review
STORY:
LOCATION: These-aching-windows - UK
AGE:
VOTES: 1,453
TAGS:
Increase Font Size    Decrease Font Size

I drove all day through the Scottish Highlands to a remote Airbnb. It was a gorgeous, bright white converted stone barn with a handful of rooms, and when I arrived, no one else was there. No cars parked, no signs of life. The rooms were all open and unoccupied. I used the message they sent me that morning to check myself in.

Whenever I arrive in a new place, I like to strip off, explore my room and settle in. Today, though, I had the whole building to myself. I left my door open as I stripped naked.

A furtive glance into the hall showed there were no cameras. I stepped out. I was completely naked in the hallway of my Airbnb. Outside, birds called and the nearby burn burbled happily.

I poked my head into rooms, jumped on beds, went up a flight of stairs to explore the attic. As I did, I could feel myself getting hotter and hotter. The naughtiness of it, the risk. Could I go outside? How far could I get from my clothes?

I can’t remember when I started touching myself. But I remember how hard I was, how close I was and how very definitely behind the desk in Reception I was when I heard feet crunching on the gravel outside.

In a genuinely figurative sense, I teleported back to my room and dragged on my t-shirt and jeans.

‘Hello there?’ came a voice. ‘Just checking you settled in fine.’

A knock at my door. I opened it and stepped out, then impulsively drew it closed behind me, as though I was hiding something in my room, when all I had to hide was straining at the inside of my jeans.

My host was tall, strong in the shoulders, with her hair pulled back in a sensible pony tail. Because I’d stepped right out into the hallway, we were far too close.

‘Oh fine thanks,’ I said. ‘It’s nice here.’

‘Sorry it’s a bit cramped,’ she said, making a little wiggling move to show how narrow the corridor was for us. ‘Do you need anything?’

I looked her in the eyes and felt strongly that yes, I did. And that’s when I felt it: my twitching cock twitched in a way it shouldn’t be able to, and I realised with a jolt that I hadn’t buttoned up my jeans.

‘It’s okay,’ she said, taking my shock as polite reluctance. ‘Whatever you need,’ she laughed, ‘I’ve probably got it. Just ask.’

She gave me a wink that was almost certainly meant as I’m-a-friendly-Airbnb-host, but actually confirmed that yes, she definitely did have it, and caused a spasm inside my jeans that proved catastrophic, because it ended up outside my jeans.

My erect, pulsing cock had fallen out the front of my pants and — and this is the part that will stay with me to my grave — rested gently against the back of my host’s left hand.

‘Um—‘ I said, but she cut me off before I could say the nothing I had prepared to follow that with.

‘Well just think about it,’ she smiled. She was showing no sign that she’d noticed the erect penis pressing against her hand and, dear god, drawing a line of warm precum on it. ‘I’m in the farmhouse if you need me.’

She suddenly turned right, so my cock was now lightly touching her little finger. ‘The bathroom’s that way, and—‘

She turned 180 degrees. Her hand rubbed across my tip and it came to rest on her right hip.

‘—breakfast starts at 8am that way.’

Her hip swayed back and forth gently, as if she was pondering something and shifting her weight idly from foot to foot. My frenulum rubbed up and down on her jeans. I saw Christ.

‘Hm,’ she said, ‘I’m sure there’s something I’ve forgotten …’

Sway, sway, sway. She looked at me quizzically. I couldn’t stand it. With a final spasm and a shudder that ran through my entire body, I came violently over my Airbnb host’s shirt, jeans and hand. It seemed to go on forever, volcanic, my spunk spreading white then dark into the fabric of her clothes.

When I finally slumped back against the wall, expecting immediate eviction and justifiable homocide, she finally stopped swaying and snapped her fingers wetly.

‘That’s what I forgot!’ she cried, and held up her cum-covered hand to point at the ceiling and walls all around us.

‘My cameras are really very, very hard to spot,’ she said.

With a long, slow lick up her fingers, she left me.

The next day, I got to breakfast really very, very early.

7 DAY VOTING PERIOD FOR THIS SUBMISSION HAS ENDED