Evening entertainment. Part 1. Handjob

Title: The Nightly Ritual – Part 1: Handjob

The clock struck midnight, and the house fell silent, save for the soft hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen downstairs. Lying in bed, Jake couldn’t shake the restless sensations that had been plaguing him all evening. He tossed and turned, his sheets tangled around his legs, as he tried to find a comfortable position. But every time he closed his eyes, all he could see were the salacious images that had been scrolling through his mind since his morning shower.

He had tried to distract himself with work, with TV, with anything that might take his mind off the growing ache in his loins. But now, as the moon cast shadows through the closed blinds, he couldn’t avoid it any longer. He needed release.

Jake reached over to the nightstand, his hand fumbling for the drawer handle in the dark. He opened it and fished around until his fingers found what he was looking for – his trusty pocket vibrator. He had bought it on a whim a few months back, curious to see what all the fuss was about. But now, it was a regular fixture in his nightly routine.

He slipped it out of the drawer, and held it in his palm, feeling the vibrations hum through his body. He wondered, as he often did, what women thought of when they used their toys. Did they imagine faceless lovers, six-pack abs, and chiseled jaws? Or did they picture someone they knew, someone real and tangible?

Jake’s mind drifted to his coworker, Sarah. The way her hair fell across her face as she bent over his desk to show him something on his computer. The way her eyes sparkled when she laughed at his lame jokes. The way her blouse strained against her breasts as she reached for a pen.

He shook his head, trying to clear the image from his mind. But it was too late. His body had already responded, his cock straining against the fabric of his boxers. He slipped them off, letting his member spring free. It was already starting to throb, pre-cum oozing from the tip.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. He knew what he had to do. He had done it a thousand times before, but somehow, tonight felt different. More urgent. More needful.

He reached for his cock, wrapping his hand around the shaft. It felt hot to the touch, the skin smooth and hard. He stroked it slowly, feeling the ridge of the head, the pulsing vein along the side.

He closed his eyes, letting his imagination take over. Sarah was in his bed, her naked body pressed against his. Her hand was wrapped around his cock, her fingers stroking him with expert precision.

He could almost feel her breath on his neck, hear the soft moans escaping from her lips. Her hand moved faster, her grip tightening.

He could feel his orgasm building, the pressure in his balls growing with each pass of his fingers.

“Oh, Sarah,” he whispered, his voice ragged with desire. “I’m going to come.”

His hand moved faster, his strokes more urgent. He could feel the pleasure building, the need growing.

And then, it hit him. His body convulsed, his cock pulsing as he came. He could feel the hot, sticky fluid shooting from his tip, coating his hand and his stomach.

He lay there for a moment, gasping for breath, his body trembling with the aftershocks of his release. Then, slowly, he reached for a tissue and cleaned himself up.

But even as he wiped the last traces of his orgasm from his skin, he knew it wouldn’t be enough. He wanted more. He wanted to feel a woman’s touch, to hear her voice quivering with need.

He knew he had a long night ahead of him. But for now, at least, he could sleep.