Masturbation Monday Week 83
I found him dozing in my bed. His dark head propped up on my pillows. His shirt on, but open displaying his muscled abs, his pants partially unzipped. I could see by the slight bulge, he was somewhat aroused. Every few seconds his cock pulsed and lengthened stretching the black denim.
Sleepily he palmed himself, catching my interest. He used the heel of his hand, rubbing his swelling flesh, then using his fingers, he molded the shape through his jeans.
My mouth went dry.
As he continued to play, he grew so hard, the tip of his cock peeked from his waistband.
He shifted, lifting his hips from the bed and rolled his jeans down. His long beautiful cock bobbed, rising from his belly.
He took hold of his shaft, wrapping his hand around the thickness. Covetously, my own hand fisted at my side. My palm itched. I knew what it felt like to hold that smooth warm flesh. Satin over granite. He worked it lightly, up and down from base to tip.
I stood spellbound by the motion of his hand as he stroked himself. So slow at first, as if he were barely touching. A loose hold almost, as if he enjoyed the skim of his palm against his distended skin.
Restless, he shifted again, lifting his hips, his head pressed deeper into the pillow. He tightened his hand just under the head of his cock and tugged.
A deep moan hitched in his throat as he upped the tempo.
My pussy flooded with achy need.
His breathing became labored. His jaw ticked. His body tensed. His stomach rippled and twitched as he tried to prolong his pleasure.
The jerking became urgent. His hips engaged.
I bit my lip trying to remain quiet but a whimper escaped me.
Unashamed, he met my gaze, his features a mask of pleasure and pain.
“Come here,” he murmured gruffly.
“Don’t stop,” I whispered.
"Oh there's no stoppin' this," he said, out of breath.
His fist worked frantically.
I knelt on the bed between the vee of his legs.
The veins in his cock pulsed. The tip colored, throbbing. “Fuck! Oh, fuuuck!” He groaned.
I lowered my head and opened my mouth, just in time.
Oh my God, I love when you write flash fiction. Jeebus, woman, I'm ready to rub one out after that.
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