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A Real Cock-Tease

Posted by: SoloTouchArchive Author: admin Posted on: 20 Feb 1998 1 comments
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by turbodog@neosoft.com Nobody likes a cock tease, but the fun part about being a cock tease with yourself is you always know you're going to give in in the end. Like countless men, when I get back to my apartment at the end of the day, I like to reward myself for being such good boy all day and working so hard. But I play a game with myself, pretend that I don't know what's about to happen. That, in fact, I haven't known all day what was going to happen when I got home. Instead, I just relax. Kick back, have a drink, read the mail. Pretend I don't know that in the next room The Bed is waiting. I take my time, as I'm all alone, no one's coming over, I have all the time I need. After a while, when I'm feeling a bit of a buzz and an excited tingle in the pit of my stomach, I might w-a-a-nder into the bedroom and open a drawer by the side of the bed. Wonder what I'll find here? What's this?? A glossy, full color magazine? Why, that young man is naked and gripping his stiff cock with his fist, and there's so much cum all over his chest. Looks pretty pleased with himself too. Well, it's been a long day, and I'd like to take a shower. Can't do that fully dressed. So I start taking my clothes off. Actually I start undressing myself slowly, which is a much sexier procedure. Soon I'm down to my boxer shorts, and the front of them is poking out quite dramatically. I look down at my crotch as if I'm surprised, as if I haven't been fully hard for the past ten minutes. So I lie on the bed and it's no more cock tease bullshit. Off come the shorts and there it is in all its glory. My dick. My hardon. My penis. My cock. I hold it in my hand, not stroking, not yet, just enjoying the feeling of holding it, the glorious sensation of being a man with his hard dick in his fist. Out comes the bottle of Wet J/O formula, and here we go. This is what I've been waiting for all day, to be lubed up and stroking myself, long slow strokes along every inch of my shaft. I talk to myself too, in a low and sensuous voice. I tell myself what I'm doing. Masturbating. I love to hear the sound of my voice saying things like "I am masturbating, I'm jacking off, I'm beating my meat," and on down the list. Especially when it's true. In time, I get my reward. The moment comes when I can no longer hold back, and I'm over the top of the roller coaster and it's time for the ultimate thrill. Becuase, sure, I like to fuck with other guys, but for sheer intensity of pleasure no other man can do for me what I can do for myself in a major stroke session. This, this bellowing with orgasm as my body trembles with ecstasy, my fist pumping my cock and jets of cum shooting straight up in the air. I watch with wide eyes where each drop splatters on my body. After a particularly good one I may just lie there, drained, exhausted, and happy, for five or ten minutes. Admiring my cock, still stiff in my hand, still tingling, but now with a thick coating of cum. And there's cum on my fist, and cum on my chest, and I'm so glad it's there. Just like the boy in the magazine. Then I do take that shower.