He twists the handle, letting the already steamy water rain down on him. It streams down his body in sheets, causing him to glisten and shine. His flawless skin catches the soft light like glass. He would rather masturbate in his bed where he could properly enjoy himself. But he is never alone. The walls of the shower are his only solitude, so it will have to do.
Thoughts of last night play through his mind as his cock begins to grow… as it becomes swollen and hard in his hand. The way you went to your knees without hesitation, dying to taste him. Thoughts of your mouth drawing him in deeply, of his cum resting on your pink, velvet tongue. Memories of slipping inside of your pussy, so impossibly tight and hot, as you begged and cried out his name…the sounds you made as you came. How wet you were, the curve of your body as you arched your back, allowing him to fuck you as deeply as he wanted. How you loved it all and wanted more. How you always want more.
A soft moan escapes him as he begins to slide his fist slowly up and down the long, slick shaft of his cock. His honey brown eyes drift closed as he gives himself over to the memory of you and the pleasure of his own touch.
Bracing himself against the cool tile with his right hand he begins to pump his throbbing dick faster with his left. The water showers down upon him at a steady pace. His golden hair his soaked now and drips down onto his shoulders before rolling down the length of his body. His lips are plump with lust and slightly parted, allowing his quiet sighs to slip from them like a beautifully erotic symphony.
He fights against calling your name as he moves inside of you in his mind’s eye…his lust his growing as he jerks his beautiful cock harder, becoming almost rough with himself. His breath bursts forth in rapid, heavy groans of desire. He wants you…needs you, badly. But he is alone.
His eyes are shut tightly now, he bites fiercely on his bottom lip, afraid that if he doesn’t he will surely scream out. The muscles of his strong frame are tense and flexing with his impending orgasm. He will cum soon, he knows, but there will be little relief. There is never much satisfaction unless he is fucking you.
The room is filled with steam and the sensual moans of desire. Hunger for your touch pours from him as his elegant hand moves with graceful urgency over the satin skin of his shaft. It is an iron rod beneath his touch as his orgasm approaches. Cum, like hot, milky cream, rises closer to his smooth, trembling tip.
He whispers your name over and over between sighs and gasps, the vivid image of your breasts, your mouth, your everything plays through his mind. Your voice, filled with passion as you call his name fills his ears.
Afraid to lose the image of you, his eyes remain closed as at last he begins to cum. White honey spurts from his jerking cock and spills into his hand…rolls down his wrist deliciously. He has forgotten himself and cries out your name loudly as welcome sexual relief floods through him. His heavy member continues to jump and drip even as he wonders if anyone has heard him.
He still misses you…still longs to touch you…to kiss your downy soft skin. Still yearns to taste you..aches to trail the tip of his tongue along your lips...but for now, your memory will have to do. For now, he is still without you.