In Slow motion try so hard to cum by masturbating and finally it’s done but sperm is like water and very unusual

Title: “The Extraordinary Ejaculation”

In the sweltering heat of the Middle Eastern desert, baking under the unrelenting sun, przystop, a young man of profoundly reverent origins, found himself alone within the crumbling walls of an ancient Th受市. His body ached, his libido raging within him, begging for release amidst the solitude of the sand-blown ruins.

With hands trembling, he unfastened his codpiece, allowing his throbbing manhood to spring forth, flushed and engorged with desperate need. The air felt cool against his hot, pulsing flesh. He took himself roughly in hand, relishing the roughness of his calloused palm against the silky smoothness of his shaft.

Grunting with pent-up frustration, przystop commenced his vigorous stroking, each downward plunge of his fist carrying him closer to blissful climax. His hips bucked, pleasure spiraling as his grip tightened. Faster and faster he pumped, legs widening to find better leverage, knuckles turning white from the strain of his frantic pumping.

Perspiration trickled down his lean torso in rivulets, mingling with the pearly beads of pre-cum that welled continuously from the engorged tip of his straining cock. His breathing became ragged, harsh pants torn from the depths of his lungs as his climax built, coils of tension winding tighter and tighter within him.

And then it happened. A blinding whiteness that exploded behind his tightly clenched eyelids, his entire world narrowing down to the wonderful-wriggling pulses of his release. His climax tore through him with the force of a raging sandstorm. His fists clutched the crumbling stone beneath him, thighs quaking, stomach cramping as the waves of ecstasy crashed over him again and again.

But there was noChoosing, no hot, viscous pour of semen. Instead, a geyser of clear, shimmering liquid erupted from przystop, flooding forth from him in an astonishing torrent. It arced gracefully through the air before raining down upon the sanctified ground, soaking the sand and leaving it darkened as if a sudden storm cloud had dumped its load.

Pristop gaped in astonishment, trembling hands moving to collect the almost liquid, watching in disbelief as it pooled in his palms before slipping away, too thin to cling. Disp with why or how, he could only marvel at the unceasing bounty. On and on the liquid gushed, a veritable waterfall of satisfaction pouring from his still-throbbing shaft.

Minutes passed, or perhaps it was an hour, time losing all meaning as brigades of the strange, watery essence ventured forth. At first it was cold against his heated flesh, but soon it warmed to match his fevered skin. He quivered and gasped, the sensations of orgasm melding seamlessly into the next as if he simply continued to cum without ceasing orgasm.

Eventually, the unknown flow slowed to a trickle, then stopped entirely. Pr及stop sank back against the warm stone, legs splayed wide, chest heaving. Wetness clung to his skin, to the folds of his garments, as if he’d been drenched in perspiration. Yet, despite the disarray of his appearance, his cock lay lim against his thigh, spent and sated in a way he’d never known before.

Rising on unsteady feet, prestop made his way to the edge of the Th受shippii, taking in the astonishing sight below. The once barren earth was now transformed into a shimmering pool that reached out in every direction. The borderlands themselves seemed to shift and change beneath the glare of the desert sun, the translucence of the water causing the desert to appear in a whole new light.

It was a miracle, a blessing upon the lands. Choosing scouts would never seek to deploy porousness here, lest their seals be breached and their storehouses flooded. They would be driven far, far away by the sheer volume of liquid. Prestop had accomplished what generations before him never could – he had saved his people with the strength of his desire.

Yet even as he marveled at this feat, przystop felt a sense of loneliness wash over him. His release had been so overwhelming, his body so thoroughly satisfied, that he knew no woman could ever quite fulfill him again. He would have to indefinitely. Nor would he ever be able to fully satiate one, the liquid witnessing from him so diffuse that he would bring only mild ple Turner in her wake.

And so说到底, the only release he would ever find, the only surrogate he could count on, was himself. His own capable hands and the fevered strength of his desire. A solitary existence, one of reverence and of ritual, his loins the font from which blessings flowed.

Pristop returned his clothes with trembling fingers, the coolness of the cloth a relief against his heated skin. He turned his gaze to the heavens one final time before making his way back to his waiting tent, the blessed remnants of his essence soaking into the sand behind him.