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Posted by: Author: Age: 23 Posted on: 0 comments
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Nothing worked. None of the usual tricks. I tried reading, watching TV with the volume down, but nothing could make me fall asleep. Awake for hours, simply staring at the ceiling and turning over in bed.
Finally, I resorted to the failsafe technique. I browsed some erotic stories online and began to gently stroke my cock through the flannel of my pajama pants. As I read the stories, I absently rubbed until I found my erection to be practically bursting in my pants. Deep down I knew that I needed to come so that I could finally relax and drift off to sleep. So I unbuttoned the fly of my pajamas and began to stroke the head of my erect penis. Soon I needed lubrication, but I didn't want to leave my computer, so I dangled a long stream of spit from my lips to the swollen head of my member. The saliva was perfect lubricant, and soon my hand was gliding up and down my shaft with ease.
I teased myself to the brink of orgasm and then took my hand away, letting the cool air of the chilly night cool off my throbbing cock. My blood vessels pumped and twitched in anticipation, but I waited for a moment longer before continuing the steady even strokes. As I lost myself in the erotica, I found myself rubbing harder and harder until again I was on the brink of orgasm.
Enough, I thought to myself, as I shut down the computer. It was time to come. I slinked through the darkness to the bathroom and grabbed a towel. My hard cock flailed around as I walked, poking through the fly of my pajama bottoms. I headed for the bedroom, but for some reason, I found myself wanting to watch myself come.
I needed light and privacy, so I slipped into the walk-in closet and turned on the light. I had a good look at my swollen bishop, nearly red with excitement. I stripped off my pajama pants and laid the blue towel on the floor. Another good mouthful of saliva fell slowly from my mouth to the tip of my penis and I sat with my legs spread on the towel.
There, in the closet, I was going to come. I stared at my cock as I thrashed it with my hand, bringing myself quickly right back to the edge of release. Again, I stopped, and I examined the way it looked differently in this state. It always looked different when it was erect - it curved upwards slightly to my left, but at this moment, so close to orgasm, it was like a living creature. It was almost purple, and it glistened in the closet's light with the sheen of saliva and pre-ejaculate semen. It twitched and trembled, as if it was begging for more attention.
I obliged, taking hold of the creature and stroking furiously, back to the point of orgasm. This time, I could not stop as waves of pleasure rippled through my body, and thick milky semen sprayed across the towel. I released my cock and watched it as it twitched and spat semen, each twitch sending another wave of pleasure spiking through me. It lasted for nearly a minute, wave after wave of orgasmic pleasure and my bare cock flailing like a wounded beast. It was beautiful, a sixty-second orgasm on the blue stage of the towel on the closet floor.
If only I had an audience to applaud me.



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