[gorpur]

Not Her in the shop, but the mag She was on the cover of. I did see Her at Erotica but was too nervous to go up to Her stall – I don’t suppose I’d have been able to say anything to Her anyway, my mouth would open and jaw go up and down, but nothing would come out.

Several girls have made me spunk my pants in the shop seeing them on the cover of a mag. Usually it’s when they are appearing in mags all the time, having just launched as a model, and I’m buying all their mags and they’re making me spunk my pants every time I look at their photos. Afterwards I’ll spray the pics with spunk.

So these girls are driving me crazy and sometimes seeing them on the cover, knowing they’re in the mag, is too much – I know the pants-spunk ecstasy they’ll give me and so occasionally they’ll make me do it there and then in the shop, before I’ve even bought the mag. That can be tricky of course, depending on what sort of shop it’s in, and who else is in there.

It’s happened to me a few times in the newsagents, and I have to work hide to hide it if there’s a few normal people in there. In the dirty bookshops, there’s usually no-one else in there, or if there is, only one or two and they’re buying dirty mags too. Then there’s my special shops where ladies serve, and it was in one of those in Bedford, a shop I went to many times, that this happened.

The lady in that shop knew I was a wanker, I always had my case full of dirty books and my spunked-stained wank-trousers on display. I showed Her some of the mags from my case and asked if She knew where I could get them, but She knew I only wanted Her to see the state they were in, what I’d written and drawn in them and the spunk-stains on the photos. Still, I spend £100s in there so I guess She wasn’t bothered if I was a bit pervy.

Now I had no intentions of deliberately spunking my pants in Her shop, I never rubbed in a shop (as far as I remember), and on the occasions when the girl on the cover made me do it, it was a surprise, happening almost the instant I saw Her. With Miss Lindsey, my obsession was more than it usually is – She started at age 16, She was so bosomy I went boss-eyed looking at Her, and She was making me pants-spunk so violently as I parked up and ogled Her photos in my mags that it was almost painful. Wet dreams, pervy chanting, filthy writing, pathetic cartoons, massive wads of toilet paper and huge spunk-stains on Her photos.

I’m in the shop, looking at the shelves of big-tit mags, and I see Her. She’s not topless – that was allowed in adult shops – but the way She’s posing, just in her knickers with Her fists covering Her nipples and squashing Her big tits up, a skimpy little top rolled up above them, and smiling at the camera, has me instantly mesmerised. Forgetting where I am, and like I’m back home in my wank-room, I pick up the mag and start to talk to Her, my rigid willy upright and beginning to pulsate.

I always talk to the photos of the girls I’m worshipping, right up to when they’ve got me on the verge of spunking my pants when I can’t talk anymore and just moan as I leak pre-cum. “Oh Miss Lindsey, oh Miss Big Tits, oh Miss Bare Girl, oh Miss Spunk Queen, Wanker loves you, you make wanker spunk his pants...” on and on my chants go, putting on a silly voice sometimes as She’s driving me crazy and I know what She’s going to make me do soon – “oh She makes me mess my pants, wet my pants, mess my pants, oh She makes me spunk my pants, mess my pants, spunk my pants”. I’m a wanker and pervert, and this is how I get my sex pleasure, looking at girls, worshipping them, unable to believe She’s going to make me cum in my pants hands-free but knowing that’s what girls have made me do 1000s of times.

I guess I’m aware that the shop lady jerks Her head up, shocked as She hears me, I’m not chanting that loudly, but of course it’s not usual for some perv to be doing that in Her shop. Maybe I’m more of a perv than most. In between chants I talk to Miss Lindsey, telling Her She’s made me spunk my pants 100s of times, that She’s so bosomy, that I’m a big wanker, and so on. I guess the shop lady is a bit aghast, and hoping no-one else comes in at this moment.

I’ve got my mac open of course, as I always do in my dirty bookshops, but that’s not visible to Her as I’m behind book-stands, just my gawping face, with strained, wide-eyed expression as I talk to Miss Lindsey and feel the spunk slowly rising. I must look a sight, my gob hanging open, probably dribbling a bit – my penis certainly is – and a look of like something of a cross between adoration and utter perviness. I start to quiver and my chants become more urgent as I can feel the excitement rise, and soon She’s got me on the verge, and my chanting becomes ever more strangled and croaky.

Then I’m just moaning, over and over like a sick animal, and a stream of pre-cum is gushing into my underpants, I’m trembling violently and oh the joy as I know I’m past the point of no return, She’s going to make me do it, in my pants and trousers, it’s the most incredible ecstasy when a girl makes you do that, partly because it reinforces that I’m just an utter perv and wanker and I want everyone to know.

I almost fold in half and yelp as a big gob of spunk is forced out the slit in the tip of my willy and pumps right into the material of my underpants and absorbent wank-trousers, soaking through to the front of them instantly. I hear a rattled ‘tut-tut’ as the lady can see my head and shoulders nodding forward with each spunk-pump, and She can hear my pitiful cries of perv ecstasy – I’m totally out of control and Miss Lindsey is totally in control of me, inducing this unbelievable ecstasy, hands-free, just at the sight of Her.

I stand there for a full 5 minutes afterwards, subsiding, getting my breath, talking to Miss Lindsey again, telling Her She just made me soak my pants and so on. I feel the soggy wetness all in my underpants and trousers, soaked down below the crutch and right round my arse. She’s made me spunk my pants front to back. No wonder I worship Her.

Now it’s time to buy the mag and I abstractly pick a few more off the shelf and approach the counter, still dazed. I stand there like an idiot, and then place the mags on the counter, but reluctant to give up the one with Miss Lindsey on the front. The lady holds Her hand out for it, but doesn’t say anything. She can see the state of the front of my trousers, the huge wet patch of spunk and the stench of cum evaporating out of the wet mess.

I open my case, jammed full of dirty mags massively expanded by wads of toilet paper, to cram the mags in but still can’t bear to take my eyes off Miss Lindsey, gazing at Her in awe as the lady starts to get a little impatient, concerned that at any moment someone could come through the door and see this perv who’s just cum in his pants. I pull my red marker pen and peel off a bit of white sticky paper and place it in a spare bit of the mag front page, and write in it – ‘this is where Miss Lindsey Dawn McSpunkstress MADE me spunk my pants in the shop’.

Although She can’t read upside down, the lady can guess what I’ve written, and then stands back from the counter to avoid the overwhelming stink of spunk coming off my wet patch. Finally I’ve paid and the mag goes into my case and I head off, knowing that I’m in for a week or so of glorious pants-spunking looking at all the lovely pics of Miss Lindsey in that mag. Definitely Top Ten, an experience I’ll NEVER forget.

I’d love Miss Lindsey to know She makes me spunk my pants just looking. Funny thing is, there were some random pics of Her on a site with another girl and a bloke in the gym. I flicked past them quickly but I couldn’t miss this pic of Her nude with the man’s penis in Her mouth, not sure quite what was happening, but I just thought, if I just saw Her for real in a tight top I’d do it in my pants there and then – that’s nearly what happened at Erotica when She was sitting in Her tight jumper. I didn’t have the nerve to go up to Her but was trying to find a spot so I could just look and spunk my pants, but men kept going up to Her stand so I couldn’t see Her properly, and after an hour or so I realised that one of the security guys was watching me, slightly concerned, and I scarpered.

Imagine if Miss Lindsey knew She made me cum in my pants just looking at Her photos and videos! The scorn She’d pour on me, the mockery! “You useless wanker”, I bet She’d say. I’d love to be humiliated by Her derision – specially if She was standing there in a skimpy top so I couldn’t hold it and wet my pants and trousers right in front of Her! Dream on wanker! That’s what She’d say too.

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