First Load
I wake up with a hard-on that feels like a roll of quarters. Per my doctor’s orders I haven’t jerked off in six days. This is day seven. I don’t know if I’m supposed to wait until day eight to blow a load or if the week officially ends on day seven. I decide to take a chance. Before I even get out of bed or take a piss, I start going to town.
I’m on my back, imagining that Holly is straddling me with my cock in her ass. It only takes me a minute or so of solid jerking until I can tell I’m about to blow my load. So far nothing feels strange or painful, but I still have a general unease about what might happen next. I slow my stroke for a second, unable to help thinking about my balls exploding in my scrotum and ejaculating blood. I’m reminded of the scene in Antichrist when Willem Dafoe gets his cock smashed while he’s unconscious but his wife still jerks him off to completion and he blows a load of blood. I don’t want this to happen to me. I purge these thoughts from my mind and reason that I need to get this out of the way. Sooner or later I have to blow a load, and it’s going to be now.
I picture Holly’s asshole when she’s sitting on my face, and I get back to work. When I’m about to cum, I power through the momentary apprehension and blow a load all over my hands and stomach. The orgasm itself doesn’t feel any better or worse than normal. I let it settle and wait for any tinge of pain to set in my balls or dick or abdomen. There is none. I look at the load. It’s white—completely normal. It’s actually a little bigger than normal, but I assume this has to do with not cumming for a week.
I wipe my hands off on the sheets and use a pillowcase to clean the cum off my stomach. The best thing about living in a hotel is you can blow loads all over the sheets if you want and they’ll be clean and changed by the time you’re back from work. I could never count on that with Alyna.