In Love With My Cock

I've always loved to masturbate, but in the last two years, it's like I've fallen in love with my cock.

I can spend hours gently edging - little circles on the underside of my head - luxuriating, slowly bringing myself to a trance state where great sheets and planes and surging waves of pleasure move through my body.

Sometimes it's so intense it becomes spiritual. I moan. I writhe. I cry out to the God I don't believe in, sobbing in thanks for the gift of this unearthly, soaring ecstasy. Other times it feels deep and carnal, rooted in thick meaty animal maleness of my cock. I'm utterly in its grip, and it's in mine.

And the porn! I hunger for it, literally salivating at the sweet flesh spread out before me. It strokes me through my eyeballs, right into the pleasure center of my brain, striking me dumb with the glory of pink young pussies, alabaster little tits, tight perfectly fuckable asses. The moans of the girls send delicious chiming shivers over my skin, and the sight of cocks sinking into them makes every cell in my own cock throb with pleasure.

I'll roll the pearly droplets of precum around my head. I'll wet my fingers tips with saliva and melt under the lush sensation. Eventually, I'll add lube and the pleasure leaps a magnitude of ten.

This will go for hours until, finally, something - an image, a sound, a memory of a sensation - will set me off and I will come in sweet spattering release that shakes me to the core.