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This story is a reply to Daniellex ‘s story “My Tit Wank Fantasy”. With Danielle’s kind permission I have tried to offer the male perspective of the same events. I suggest you read hers first. I shouldn’t be doing this. I mean, I’ve only spoken to you once. That day. The day you moved in across the hall. The first thing I saw was your bum. You were bending over, placing the box down as you delved in your bag for your keys. For all I know I could have been drooling like the bulldog in those old Tom and Jerry cartoons when you turned around. What a bum; round, firm, tight…what’s the word? Pert! Yes that’s it, pert. But when you turned around two more local attractions hoved into view. I was torn. I felt a little cheated. I wanted to get a longer look at your ass. I wanted to let my eyes linger. Unobserved. Without interruption. Maybe drool some more. But now your tits had broken my concentration. They were spectacular. Embarrassingly spectacular, actually. Embarrassing, because they had a gravitational pull like the sun – two suns – inexorably drawing my eyes to them. I couldn’t look away even if I had wanted to: Which I didn’t. For a fleeting instant I wondered if you actually had a face at all. And then I wondered if I will ever be able to wrench my eyes away from the outline of your nipples peeking through that oh-so-tight t shirt Erzurum Escort long enough to see your face. But I did manage to. The hypnotic spell was broken by that single, glorious word. “Hello”. So reluctantly my eyes had risen to meet yours. Sheepish. Guilty. I had been staring. I could see you knew. Your eyes, when I finally met your amused gaze, yelled “busted”. It was a fair cop! So here I am. Outside your door. A man with absolutely no plan at all. Cup of sugar? Too obvious. A teabag? Too easily misconstrued, given modern street parlance. Fuck. I am 18 inches from your door and I still don’t know what to say. Should I be straight? Let’s try that: “Danielle, I really fancy you. Would you like to have coffee with me sometime?” Yes, that’s it! I’ve wanted to knock so many times, but simply bottled out. Coffee? What am I thinking, for goodness sake? No. No, it isn’t going to fly. You’re just so gorgeous. You will have heard every line. Every cheesy line in the book. An egg! Yes! Let’s try that; it’s original – sort of. “Hi, neighbour; could you lend me an egg please? I have run out”. Perfect. Hard knock or soft? Don’t want to sound like a wimp. Girls don’t like wimps. Hard and confident then. No. That will make it sound like a drugs bust! Here goes. Deep breath. Knuckles. Rat tat tat. WHAT AM I DOING?? Heart Erzurum Escort Bayan pounding. Shit! She doesn’t fancy me. Why would she? She doesn’t know I even exist. Run, Forrest, Run! Three long strides, keys in the latch, door open, ease it closed behind me. Quietly. She probably didn’t hear anyway. Yes, probably in the shower and didn’t hear. No harm done. Still, I might just press my eye against the peep hole just to be…. Oh. Bugger. Oh, she was in the shower alright. And now she is standing in her doorway wearing a towel. Just a towel. Sweet mother of God. Just a towel. Not a big towel at that, either. Now she is stepping into the hall. Looking down the corridor towards the stairs. Danielle! Look behind you; Mind out for your… Click. The unmistakeable sound of heavy door sliding snuggly into its wooden frame and the ominous metallic click of lock on lever. What have I done?! She is looking up and down the corridor, pushing hopefully against her door. But she heard it as well as I did. She knows. I know. No, no, NOOOO! The padding of her feet on the carpet as she walks to my door. She knows it was me!!!! How does she know?!? What am I going to say? I am an idiot. Gentle tapping. Urgent. I have to wait a beat. Or she will know I am standing on the other side of the door. Spying. Like a pervert. Escort Erzurum Wait. Wait. And… “Hi….err..Danielle, isn’t it?” Eyes, man; look in her eyes, not at those barely covered tits. Bulging, full, luscious…. Eyes! Ooops. She saw me checking her out. But is that mild panic I see in them? “Locked yourself out, you say? Ha ha. Yes. Very easily done. Come in. Please”. Thank you God! “Go on through” Ohhhh. Mustn’t dribble like Homer Simpson with a donut, but…. What. An. Ass! And legs! Bloody hell. Brilliant plan, getting her over here like this. I am a genius. “My phone is there, Danielle. On the coffee table. Behind the laptop. Try the Qype app; good for local tradesmen”. Don’t turn around. For fucks sake, don’t. Please. I just know I will stare at your tits. And drool probably. “Thanks, yes! I am happy with the way the flat turned out”. God, she’s beautiful. So natural. Even with wet hair dripping down her shoulders. I could watch those droplets tracking down her back all day. Actually I couldn’t. I would want to lick them up, each and every droplet, my tongue tracing their path down below her towel and… “Excellent news! Just half an hour. Wow. Great service!” Damn you, Qype! Only half an hour?!?! What’s that about? The blonde bombshell in my flat and you say half an hour. Thanks for that! “How about a coffee while we wait? Great. The kettle has just boiled. Make yourself at home”. I should offer you a robe. Or a tee shirt. Who am I kidding? I could offer you my wetsuit and I would still be horny. So no. Not unless you ask. “Milk and sugar in your coffee? Here you go”. Oh thank you, God! Now I believe.