Man's Delight: A Helping Hand

The rain hammered against the windows of the small apartment, mirroring the frantic beat of my heart. My husband, Mark, lay sprawled across the bed, oblivious to the simmering tension in the air, his face relaxed in sleep. He looked so vulnerable, so utterly dependent on my touch, and tonight, I was determined to fulfill his needs, and perhaps, my own as well. Give Your Man a Hand had become my mantra, a whispered promise of pleasure and release. Tonight, I was going to explore every facet of that concept.

The first thing I did was pull on a silk robe, feeling the cool fabric against my skin. Lube, as the guide suggested, was paramount. I grabbed a generous squirt from the bottle and applied it liberally to my hands, savoring the slick, slippery sensation. It was time to put the quickie technique into action. I slipped out of the bedroom, bypassing Mark entirely, and headed straight for the shower. The hot water instantly relaxed my muscles, and I lathered my hands in conditioner, letting the scent fill the air. As I climbed back into bed, pulling his pants down with swift, decisive movements, Mark stirred slightly, a low groan escaping his lips. The surprise element, as suggested, was key. I closed the door behind me, plunging him into darkness before launching into the handjob, my fingers gliding over his body with a deliberate, teasing rhythm. The anticipation built with each stroke, each curve, each touch. As he edged closer to climax, I knelt down, letting him unleash his pent-up desires on my breasts, a primal act of intimacy. Then, I rose, leaving him breathless and trembling, a silent testament to my control and my pleasure.

Next, I moved onto the "Behind in Shower" technique. Hearing Mark’s footsteps approach, I slipped into the shower without a word, wearing only a damp t-shirt that clung to my body, revealing the swell of my nipples as the water splashed over them. The coolness of the water contrasted sharply with the heat of my desire, intensifying the sensation. Wrapping my arms around his waist, my hands gripped his cock firmly, my fingers working their magic with a slow, sensual pace. The focus was on control, on prolonging the pleasure, on savoring every moment. As he struggled to maintain his composure, I leaned in, whispering suggestive words in his ear, feeding his arousal while simultaneously taking control.

The "TV Distraction" proved to be a particularly challenging one. Setting the television to a mindless action movie, I sat beside Mark, feigning disinterest as I began my slow, deliberate handjob. The deliberate slowness, the focus on his reactions, the constant need to keep him on the edge – it was a test of my patience and my control. The copious amounts of lube ensured a smooth, satisfying experience for both of us, but the mental game was just as crucial. Every pause, every lingering touch, every subtle shift in my posture was designed to heighten his anticipation.

The "Wake the Snake" proved to be even more intense. As Mark slept deeply, I began to gently tease his cock, feeling the subtle shifts in his breathing as he became aware of my touch. The thrill of the hunt, the anticipation of his arousal, was intoxicating. As he stirred and shifted in his sleep, I continued my pursuit, relentless in my desire. The buzzing sensation of my own arousal added another layer of excitement to the experience.

Then came the "Toothpaste Chiller," a bizarre yet effective technique. Mixing toothpaste with a touch of conditioner, I applied the mixture to his genitals, the cool, tingling sensation sending shivers down my spine. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it was certainly novel, a playful twist on the usual handjob routine. The combination of textures and sensations was surprisingly stimulating, and as I continued my ministrations, I felt a surge of pleasure and dominance.

Moving on to the "Rimmer," I focused intently on the ridge at the back of his head, employing small, precise movements with my finger. The sensation was exquisite, a tantalizing blend of pleasure and pain. It was a slow, deliberate act, designed to build anticipation and heighten his sensitivity.

The "Perpetual Sleeve," a test of endurance and skill, involved continuously changing positions while maintaining a firm grip on his cock. The constant pressure, the rhythmic movement, the slippery feel of the lubricant – it was an experience unlike any other. I experimented with different levels of tightness, observing his reactions and adjusting my grip accordingly.

The "Lighting the Campfire," with its side-to-side rubbing motion, proved to be surprisingly effective. The gentle friction, combined with the generous amount of lube, created a sensation that bordered on ecstasy. The focus on the head, the deliberate movements, the constant contact – it was a sensual exploration of pleasure and dominance.

The "Self Service" was perhaps the most challenging, requiring me to embrace my own desires while simultaneously catering to his. Stripping down to my own lingerie, I positioned myself strategically, allowing him to watch and encourage me as I masturbated, my movements fluid and passionate. Talking to him, teasing him, pushing his boundaries – it was a dance of power and submission, a testament to our shared intimacy.

Following suit, I led him through the "Reverse Jockey" technique, pulling his cock through his legs and performing a stimulating handjob from behind. The vulnerability of his position, the intimacy of the experience, made it even more potent. Adding some anal stimulation with a bit of oil enhanced the sensation, leaving him completely satisfied.

The "Polishing the Head" involved gently massaging the head of his penis with my palm, focusing on the ridge and feeling the delicate sensation beneath my fingertips. It was a delicate, intimate act, designed to awaken his senses and heighten his pleasure.

Finally, I executed the "Full Attention" technique, completely immersing myself in his pleasure. Stripping naked, pouring coconut oil all over his body, and focusing solely on his arousal – it was a moment of pure, unadulterated intimacy. Talking to him, guiding his movements, pushing his boundaries, encouraging him to reach new heights of pleasure. He responded with a primal roar, an expression of utter satisfaction. The heat, the sweat, the shared intimacy – it was an experience that transcended the physical, connecting us on a deeper, more profound level. The night ended with us entangled in a tangled embrace, both exhausted and fulfilled, a testament to the power of desire and the joy of giving pleasure. The rain continued to fall outside, but inside, the storm of passion had subsided, leaving behind a sense of peace and contentment.

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