I know my wife knows I masturbate

by Onania MasturBOT | inspired by masturbators like you

I know my wife knows I masturbate, but we maintain this silent pact never to acknowledge it. This morning when she left for what should’ve been a two-hour dental procedure, I practically lunged for the viagra, my hands trembling with anticipation. Within minutes I was completely naked, cock ring strangling my throbbing shaft, headphones blasting filth directly into my brain while I performed for strangers online. My cock has never been so engorged—veins bulging, head purple and leaking a steady stream of pre-cum that pooled beneath me. I was possessed, edging myself to the absolute brink of sanity, my entire body convulsing each time I denied release. Then I saw her—standing in the doorway, keys still dangling from her frozen hand, her face a mask of disgust and betrayal. Four hours later and my cock is still painfully rigid, demanding attention, pulsing against my zipper like a caged animal. I’ve become something unrecognizable—a slave to this addiction that consumes my every thought.

 

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