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Masturbation

Andy found a very interesting profile of the girl in Dubai escort list. The photos were made when she had been sleeping she looked a lot younger while she slept. Long, dark lashes curled on her cheeks. White hair and dark lashes? She was the most gorgeous woman Andy had ever seen. As he could see, she was tall for a woman, about five-six, with a lush, curvaceous body, huggable hips, suckable breasts, and sparkling chocolate eyes.

Andy’s cock woke, stretched, and damn near burst out of his pants at his first sight of her. He went straight to his bedroom, locked the door, leaned back against it and unfastened his pants. His strangled cry of relief sounded overloud in his ears but was short-lived. Now that he’d given his cock room to breathe, it hardened, lengthened and insisted on attention.

Andy wrenched off his clothes on the way to the shower and dropped them in an untidy trail. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt as desperate to jack off to the image of a particular woman. He grabbed a bottle of shower gel from an open box as he passed and stepped into the curved glass cubicle. Andy welcomed the icy blast, hoping it would dampen his ardor, but the water warmed up fast.

With eyes shut or eyes open, the face of this escort girl filled his head. No need to conjure up a face from his past, a white-haired home intruder worked just fine. Andy squirted gel onto his hand and dragged his fist up from his balls, a slow pull along the length of his cock to bring his foreskin over his crest. He groaned and leaned back against the shower wall, repeating the action with his fist until he was milking more and more pre-cum.

Torn between needing fast and wanting it slow, Andy twisted his hand around and, catching the sensitive cock head with his palm, he pushed his fist down to finish at his balls.

Those tiny ears.

Two hands, one above the other, pumping and squeezing.

Eyelashes as dark as his but longer.

Andy clasped his balls and tightened his hold as he used his other hand to stroke the swollen veins of his cock.

That tantalizing gap between her lips.

He fisted himself faster and tighter with one hand, and reached with his other to tease his anus. One finger sliding in the cleft of his buttocks to press against the puckered ring, and he grunted in pleasure.

Breasts made for his mouth.

Andy gasped as his finger slid inside up to the webbing. His hands worked in unison, teasing, tightening, thrusting until he felt the beast coming, racing toward him, hooves pounding, dark mouth widening to swallow him whole. Orgasm started in his head—maybe a few feet higher than that through a layer of plaster and floorboards— and roared down his spine to bathe his balls in liquid fire. His cum seethed, boiled and overflowed to shoot down his cock and spray onto the glass wall opposite.

His breathy cries echoed in the shower stall as he emptied himself in long, wrenching spasms. Andy watched the streaks of his cum slide down the glass. He sighed. He could think of a better home. Somewhere warm and snug.

He washed the shower then himself, and switched off the water. Andy stuck out his hand, waiting for the towel until he remembered one thing—Andy hadn’t yet found the box with the bath towels.

Shit.

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