The Erotic Mind
Read the storySo instead, she stayed lodged in my head, unexorcised, unwelcome and necessary all at once. And I hated myself a little for knowing that I’d choose the ache over the relief every time. I can’t masturbate—I don’t have a sensual image of her, yet. But my imagination of her was enough to get an erection. I groaned, getting out of bed, and stumbled to the shower, feeling heavy in my groin. I took a cold shower to try and calm the morning wood. My muscles clenched as I held myself against the falling ice. Shivering, my erection did not budge down. Masturbation will have to relieve me as my hand gravitated down south. I gripped my boner, stroking it slowly. My eyes fluttered closed, and the image of Margot’s face entered my mind. Margot, you little nymph. I just want to soil your pussy with my cream. I stroked faster, steadying myself against the wall of the shower, and rubbing my thumb over the tip of my cock that was sensitive with lust. All I could think about was a sensory image of my white cream all over her bare breasts and face. I shuddered, exploding, feeling the warm fluid shoot out from my tip in pulsating spurts. Whoa. That was too fast. That was only seconds. That was embarrassing. That was… new.