I gave a gift to an online lover this morning. As we were saying our goodbyes I told her not to worry about me, that I would get my release later.
"Yes, then tell me about it," she said.
Often it is the little things that have the most impact on us. Take that passing comment for example. I dwelled on it all morning at work. During meetings, interacting with other coworkers, the tiny voice in the back of my mind was hers, and it was saying "tell me about it." She wanted to know details of the self pleasure that was yet to come. She knew that my "kink" tended towards the grotesque or more obvious expressions and acts of lust (much more so than her refined tastes). She had stuck a toe in the gutter of my libido and thrown me a bone in her subtle but very naughty request. My lustful mind burned for her.
I almost ran to my car at lunch.
I drove to a local store that had a large parking lot where I chose a spot away from the main foot traffic and parked. The silence in the cabin was broken by the sound of me unbuckling my black leather belt and ripping open the fly of my jeans. I was already straining against the restrictions of clothing, and grabbing my underwear with the waistband of my jeans, I pulled them down about six inches.
Freed at last! Finally, room to pull my already thickening cock and balls (closely trimmed) out of their garment prison. The "itch" that had been driving me insane all morning was about to be scratched. I ratcheted my seat a few clicks towards the backseat and tilted the backrest slightly back. I wanted to be comfortable. Take my time.
I've always preferred to use my right hand in pleasuring my cock and today was no different. My left alternated between squeezing the base and forming a noose at the top of my balls to be stretched and pulled down. I leaned my head back and thought of Nikki.