Page 59 of Almost Rotten

Though goose bumps erupt along my skin and I suck in a harsh breath, my dick remains rock hard and aching.

The show Sawyer just put on for me went above and beyond my expectations.

When she so willingly handed over the remote for her vibrator, I thought I might pass out from lack of blood to the brain.

Watching her get herself off was an experience I couldn’t have imagined, erotic and provocative in a way I realize now I’ll never get enough of.

But holding the remote, changing the tempo and the intensity, knowing I was the one in charge of her pleasure?

That’s what my fucking dreams are made of.

Her body quivering, because of me.

Her pussy spasming, because of me.

Fuckin’ A.

And then she asked me to touch her. She fucking begged me to put my hands on her body.

Just thinking about her puffy pink pussy gripping around that toy causes me to leak like a sieve.

I scrub my body quickly, taking care to get all the cum off my thighs. Then I drop the washcloth to the shower floor with a splat, wrap my hand around my cock, and give it a fast, hard tug.

With my feet planted wide and one hand on the wall over my head to steady myself, I rub one out and groan through the release.

I come quickly, but it’s not enough.

It never fucking is.

Clenching my jaw, I rub over my piercings and keep tugging. I’m desperate and aching and so fucking focused on the heaviness pulling at my core.

I can’t even fathom what it’ll feel like when I’m finally inside her.

I’m going to last ten seconds, tops. Thank fuck for my nonexistent refractory period. I can fill her up, then keep going. She’ll clench around my cock, scream my name, and come so hard she cries. Then I can pull out, flip her over, and do it all again.

When the telltale tingle of another orgasm dances up my spine, I grip my dick tighter, crushing my piercings until the pain melts into pleasure.

My lower half locks up, my insides coiling tighter and the pleasure charging higher with every rough pull of my cock.

“Ty?”

My hand stops moving and my lungs seize up.

But my dick heard her voice and took that as its cue to shoot ropes of cum at the tile wall.

The door cracks open, and a mass of copper hair appears through the opaque shower curtain.

“I just have to pee,” she says quietly.

“I’m still in the shower,” I grit out between bursts of release.

She steps in anyway.

“Sorry. I tried to hold it until you were done, but I’m going to burst.”

I scoff.

Me fucking, too.