precision as she stared up at me with her incredible hazel eyes. My hands had been fisted in her impossibly soft auburn hair and I was moments from watching her swallow my load when Preston had shaken me awake.
Running became increasingly difficult as more of my blood found its way from the brain in my head to the one between my legs.
Cold shower. I need a cold shower.
The treadmill leveled out and I slowed to a clipped walk for the cool down portion of my final run. It was all I could do to put one foot in front of the other as I prayed my dick didn’t get any harder.
When the belt beneath my feet finally came to a stop, I all but sprinted across the gym to the locker room and slipped into the first available shower stall.
The spray of cold water slammed into me like a truck and stole my breath away as it soaked into my gym clothes and filled my shoes.
“Get your shit together, Porter,” I chastised myself as I kicked off my sopping shoes and tossed my soggy clothes into the corner.
Completely ignorant of the frigid stream dousing the rest of my body, my dick stayed stiff as steel and pointed accusingly at the shower handle.
Flashes of Holly’s creamy skin sliding over every inch of my body played through my mind and I realized there was only one way to resolve the problem of my arousal.
I gripped my disobedient shaft and quickly worked my strokes into a brutal pace. The muscles in my exhausted thighs tightened more with every thrust of my bucking hips.
I felt the deep tightening in the pit of my stomach as my balls drew up against my body. I lost all control when my thighs finally cramped and my abs seized up to force my orgasm out of me like a gunshot.
“Fuck!” I yelled as my legs gave out and I dropped to my knees.
The tiles at eye level were covered in jets of my semen. My vision went fuzzy as my softening cock unloaded the rest of its payload into the drain at my knees.
My head spun around at the sound of the shower curtain behind me being ripped open. One of the personal trainers I had worked with on more than one occasion stood there in his gym shorts and company polo. He looked from me to the wall and then back to me before his eyes dropped to my ass and a grin flashed across his face.
“I thought someone was dying,” he explained before turning away and closing the shower curtain behind him, “Clean up your mess before you leave, Ryder. ”
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I asked the smug piece of flesh, now napping between my burning thighs.
I reached up and increased the temperature of the water before halfheartedly tossing water at the wall in a sad attempt to rid the shower of any evidence left behind.
How the hell was I supposed to sit through an entire meal with her across the table from me? I couldn’t even make it through an hour at the gym with her halfway across the county.
“This isn’t going to end well,” I muttered as the last of my ejaculation swirled down the drain.
“So this is what a Monday is supposed to feel like.”
I had managed to make it to my office without turning around and climbing back under my blankets, but hadn’t actually done any work yet. I sat there staring at my computer screen waiting for it to give me instructions on how to do my job.
“Serves you right for actually enjoying your weekend.”
My eyes went to the doorway where my favorite member of my support staff was leaning casually.
“Shut it, Mitch. I liked it better when I didn’t bother with silly things like days off.”
Mitchel Michaelson, gay secretary extraordinaire, pushed himself away from the doorframe and strode into my office like he owned the place. He was one of the three people on the planet who could do so without losing life or limb. The other two were Becks and the man who wrote my paychecks.
“As your executive assistant, I have to agree with you. More shit gets done that way. As a gay man who loves to party on the weekends, I feel like I need to
Running became increasingly difficult as more of my blood found its way from the brain in my head to the one between my legs.
Cold shower. I need a cold shower.
The treadmill leveled out and I slowed to a clipped walk for the cool down portion of my final run. It was all I could do to put one foot in front of the other as I prayed my dick didn’t get any harder.
When the belt beneath my feet finally came to a stop, I all but sprinted across the gym to the locker room and slipped into the first available shower stall.
The spray of cold water slammed into me like a truck and stole my breath away as it soaked into my gym clothes and filled my shoes.
“Get your shit together, Porter,” I chastised myself as I kicked off my sopping shoes and tossed my soggy clothes into the corner.
Completely ignorant of the frigid stream dousing the rest of my body, my dick stayed stiff as steel and pointed accusingly at the shower handle.
Flashes of Holly’s creamy skin sliding over every inch of my body played through my mind and I realized there was only one way to resolve the problem of my arousal.
I gripped my disobedient shaft and quickly worked my strokes into a brutal pace. The muscles in my exhausted thighs tightened more with every thrust of my bucking hips.
I felt the deep tightening in the pit of my stomach as my balls drew up against my body. I lost all control when my thighs finally cramped and my abs seized up to force my orgasm out of me like a gunshot.
“Fuck!” I yelled as my legs gave out and I dropped to my knees.
The tiles at eye level were covered in jets of my semen. My vision went fuzzy as my softening cock unloaded the rest of its payload into the drain at my knees.
My head spun around at the sound of the shower curtain behind me being ripped open. One of the personal trainers I had worked with on more than one occasion stood there in his gym shorts and company polo. He looked from me to the wall and then back to me before his eyes dropped to my ass and a grin flashed across his face.
“I thought someone was dying,” he explained before turning away and closing the shower curtain behind him, “Clean up your mess before you leave, Ryder. ”
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I asked the smug piece of flesh, now napping between my burning thighs.
I reached up and increased the temperature of the water before halfheartedly tossing water at the wall in a sad attempt to rid the shower of any evidence left behind.
How the hell was I supposed to sit through an entire meal with her across the table from me? I couldn’t even make it through an hour at the gym with her halfway across the county.
“This isn’t going to end well,” I muttered as the last of my ejaculation swirled down the drain.
“So this is what a Monday is supposed to feel like.”
I had managed to make it to my office without turning around and climbing back under my blankets, but hadn’t actually done any work yet. I sat there staring at my computer screen waiting for it to give me instructions on how to do my job.
“Serves you right for actually enjoying your weekend.”
My eyes went to the doorway where my favorite member of my support staff was leaning casually.
“Shut it, Mitch. I liked it better when I didn’t bother with silly things like days off.”
Mitchel Michaelson, gay secretary extraordinaire, pushed himself away from the doorframe and strode into my office like he owned the place. He was one of the three people on the planet who could do so without losing life or limb. The other two were Becks and the man who wrote my paychecks.
“As your executive assistant, I have to agree with you. More shit gets done that way. As a gay man who loves to party on the weekends, I feel like I need to
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