Monday, 8 July 2013
Masturbation Monday: Memories, of what we used to have
It's been a while since I brought you a solo tale to begin the week with but I have decided there is no more time to worry about how shit life is and get back to doing what I do.
Memories, of what we used to have
It had been so long since we had made love that I had forgotten what your soft body against mine felt like, yet that didn't stop me dreaming that, maybe one day, we would fuck again like we had when we first met, damn those days were good. Morning, noon and night we would be at it and there was no position, no kink, out of bounds as we get to know every inch of each others body, intimately. Then, just like I always seemed to, I fucked up and until those first few weeks returned I had to make do with my dreams, my fantasies, and my hand.
Thanks to my stupidity, my paranoia, masturbation was now the only release I had from the sexual frustration that tore through my body every time I looked at you, thought of you, heard your soft voice but just the thoughts of your soft skin, your firm full breasts, your gorgeous legs and tight shaved pussy always drove me wild with lust and had me hard within seconds.
Curling my fist, lightly, around my throbbing shaft I always moved my hand slowly, at least to begin with, up and down the shaft while letting my free hand slip between my legs and toy with my tight ass, just like you always used to do, as I moan your name softly in the hope that, one of these days you would walk in, catch me and remember how it used to be between us, hoping that you would stop me and replace my rough, calloused hand with the delicate softness of yours, but you never did and my dream always ended the same way, with my body trembling violently as my thick seed erupted from the small slit in the end of my cock before splattering down on my chest, leaving me breathless.