I walked into my apartment after a long shift, kicked the door shut, and felt my dick already twitching in my jeans. The place was quiet, just the hum of the fridge and the city noise outside. I stripped right there in the living room, letting my shirt and pants hit the floor. My cock sprang free, half-hard and heavy, the head already shiny with a bead of precum. I wrapped my fist around it and gave it a slow pull, feeling the skin slide tight over the shaft. Fuck, that felt good.
I moved to the bedroom, grabbed the bottle of lube from the nightstand, and flopped onto the bed naked. My balls hung low and full between my spread thighs. I poured a thick line of slick over my palm and went to work. No slow tease tonight. I stroked hard and fast from the base up to the swollen tip, twisting my wrist on every upstroke so the head got that tight friction it craved. My other hand cupped my nuts, rolling them, tugging just enough to make my stomach clench.
In my head I pictured him, the guy from the gym with the thick thighs and that fat bulge in his shorts. I imagined him standing over me, peeling those shorts down, letting his own cock slap out heavy and veined. I stroked faster, picturing him gripping the base and aiming it at my face, telling me to open up. My fist pumped quicker, the wet sound filling the room. Precum mixed with the lube, making everything sloppy and loud. I spat on my cock for extra slick and kept jerking, hips lifting off the mattress to fuck my own hand.
I edged myself hard, squeezing right under the head every time I got close, letting the orgasm back off until my balls ached. Sweat slicked my chest. I pinched one nipple, rolled it, and imagined his mouth there instead, teeth scraping while he jerked me. My strokes turned brutal, long and twisting, the lube squelching between my fingers.
I talked dirty to myself out loud, voice rough. “Yeah, stroke that cock. Fuckin’ milk it. Shoot that load thinking about his dick down your throat.”
When I finally let go, the orgasm slammed through me like a freight train. Thick ropes of cum shot across my abs and chest, one spurt hitting my chin. My hand never stopped, dragging every pulse out until I was shaking and oversensitive, cum dripping down my fist. I lay there breathing hard, cock still twitching in my grip, the mess cooling on my skin. One more lazy stroke, just to feel it, then I relaxed, satisfied and spent, already wondering how soon I could do it again.
