Anticipation

A masturbator said:

I’ve been waiting for this for sooo long. Spent the holidays with the in-laws and didn’t have an opportunity to spend quality time with my genitals. Sure, I made myself cum everyday but no time to just kick back and really enjoy myself.

Last week, I was debating about whether I should spend the days after Christmas at our lake condo. That decision was made when we scheduled some repair guys at the house today. Oh well, I guess I will just have to lose myself in internet porn and phonesex for hours and hours every day while the wife is at work. All I’m going to do is masturbate. 

The anticipation of my masturbate-a-thon has been intense. It’s all I’ve been able to think about for days.

I ran out of Albolene and have been using vegetable oil for a few weeks. It works fine but I much prefer the feel of Albolene. So, I went out and bought a fresh jar last night. I’m all set for my nasty fun.

Woke up in the middle of the night and just couldn’t wait. Snuck down to the computer, lubed up and spent the last two hours stroking my delicious penis. It was so juicy. Love how my precum mixes with Albolene.

The wife is awake now and getting ready for work. May have to fit my playtime today around the repair guys. But, the real fun will begin in about an hour. Yummy … I can’t wait.

2 thoughts on “Anticipation

  1. Wow. Your though about the anticipation really struck a chord. When I’ve made the plan to masturbate it’s as though it’s all I can think about. In other cases once I’ve made a decision I can put it out of my mind. Pride myself on that. Can stay focused and leave that job till its time. Stay committed and discard any distractions
    But if the plan was to masturbate all bets are off. If I’ve told mysel like I’ve got the day off and alone or I’m going to be on the road for a day and telling myself to remember the lube the it’s like that picture in a picture on the tv. I’m watching the game, yeah…I could probably tell you who’s playing or even the score but A chunk of my brain stays glued to that small screen that shows the countdown clock and ETB, my balls and a sperm level indicator (usually red-lining), location of the tool, arousal level and palm proximity.
    Evidence? Got the house to myself tonight. Lube and a case of beer in the car and I’m pretty sure I’m caring less and less whether this stuff I’m supposed to do ever gets done.

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