In my earlier story, I told how some new pyjamas gave me a new wanking experience. This one explains how pyjamas turned me off.
Just a few days later, the weather changed and it suddenly became very hot. I decided that the time had come for summer shorties. I'm in the habit of washing all my summer clothes before wearing them to make sure they are clean after months of storage. This year, the weather change was so sudden that I was taken unawares with a pile of unwashed clothes. However, I found a new pair of pyjamas in their original unopened wrapping and opted for them. They were of the T-shirt/boxers type, the top in light knitted cotton, the bottoms in woven cotton.
As I said last time, I don't like woven pyjamas with a fly, but I decided to wear these ones. The following morning, on waking up, I had my usual woody but it was only half-hard, trying to poke its nose through the space below the button. What took my attention more was that my groin, behind the scrotum, was darned sore. During the night, my boxers had worked themselves up and rubbed on me where the seams crossed.
I went to the toilet and applied some cream on the sore patch, took off my pyjamas, put on a light dressing gown and went downstairs to enjoy my coffee. After breakfast, I went back upstairs for a shower. The soreness in my groin had almost gone but, not wanting to have cream stains on my underwear, I took the mobile shower head and pointed it upwards between my spread legs. Some of it showered under my scrotum and cock; I just kept it there, enjoying the feeling of the lukewarm water trickling round my package. Of course, this stiffened me up and after a minute or two, I had a great hard-on, like a ram-rod. By then, I had no choice: I soaped up my right hand and dick and gave it some exquisite strokes along the bottom of the shaft, thoroughly turned on. Little-by-little I worked upwards until my hand was round the head and I could start to feel the orgasm start. I edged off once but it wasn't long before I started again with renewed enthusiasm and a few long strokes from the tip to the bottom and shot my load into the shower cubicle walls with a glorious sensation of completeness.
From a turn-off pair of pyjamas that eventually led to a great wank, it's an ill wind that blows.
PS I threw the offending pyjamas in the trash-can and, that night, wore knitted cotton shorties. The pants were a body-hugging pair, almost like boxer-briefs without a fly, my favourites for comfort. They merited another good jerk-off.