Monday morning, you’re just getting settled in at your desk in your home office. You’re waiting for your computer to boot up when I text you. “When will you be done working today?”
“Around 5:00 p.m. I suppose. Why? What’s up?” you reply.
I decided to just pick up the phone and call you. I explain that I really want to give you a slow, erotic hand job. I’ve been fantasizing about it for days now and I like the thought of experiencing your cock after you’ve already been turned on for a while. When you’re already aroused it’s raging hard, the head is a proud shade of purple, and the rim is ultra-sensitive to my touch.
“Meet me at the supermarket downtown and text me when you’re in the store.” For the rest of the day you find it impossible to focus on work. As you replay my words in your mind, it makes it tremendously hard to think straight.
You attempt to make a few calls and try to occupy yourself by checking your emails to ensure that nothing is blowing up whilst you are enthralled in your own tawdry thoughts. They announce on the news that the stimulus will be arriving in a few weeks. However, you are far more excited about the stimulus that I’ll be delivering much sooner!
At 4:59 you’ve already logged off for the day, staring at the clock, silently cheering for the final 60 seconds to arrive faster. When the clock strikes, so do you. At lunch time with your wife you planted the seed for your needing to brave the apocalypse and run to the market when your work is completed. She wanted to come with you, but she backed down when you insisted that it’s safer for her to just stay at home (pfft).
You weave through traffic like a champ, taking a huge chance on getting a speeding ticket. At last, you’re at the store and you text me find out where I am. I reply and tell you that I’m in the single stall handicap rest room and to knock twice when you’re outside the door.
I open the door for you a few moments later and you pounce on me like a cheetah. Our lips meet for a passionate kiss. I feel your hands feverishly roaming my body. Your erection is pulsing against my stomach because you are so much taller than me. You start to lift my blouse up when I stop you. “No, babe, I’m here to give you a hand job. That’s how I want to make you cum today.”
You don’t protest in the slightest as I reach for your belt. I pull it loose and ambush your pants. I start to struggle with the zipper when you try to help me out. “Babe”, I giggle, “I got this. Let me do it. I’ve been dreaming of taking your cock out myself! The last thing I want is to be denied that privilege.”
I crouch to my knees as I pull your pants down to your ankles. I feel your hand on the top of my head, as you jockey for position to steady yourself. I pull your boxer briefs down and your hand gently motions my face towards your engorged cock.
I take the head into my mouth for just a few seconds and leave my saliva dripping off of it. To your disappointment, I stand up. I see the deflation in your face. I kiss you again. “I want you to stare into my eyes, baby. Please don’t close them. I want you to watch me.”
I place my hand in the middle of your chest and gently push you backwards against the tiled wall. My right hand finds your cock again. It’s as straight as an arrow, and as hard as stone. I wrap my fingers around the meatiest part of your shaft. Your cock is a very impressive muscle when you’re fully erect!
It’s throbbing in my hand even before I start to jerk it, and jerk it, I do. I slowly pump your dick back and forth. I gradually speed up as I strengthen my grip around your girth. Our eyes remain locked the entire time, as I work my knowing hand to its full potential. I can tell what you’re thinking just by your glaring gaze. You’re horny as hell, then ravenous, and then finally, you’re beaten. You no longer have any will whatsoever, as my hand delivers the ecstasy that’s been consuming your brain power all day.
Your stimulus cums immediately with me, lover…
It’s time to call me and claim it!