Lolomoonlight81 – Top 10 Cumshots, Solo Husband
Rasheed lounged languidly on the plush sofa, his lean bare torso glistening with a sheen of perspiration. The scent of expensive incense wafted through the dimly lit den, mingling with the heady aroma of his own arousal. He had been teasing himself for hours, stroking his thick cock to a full throbbing erection, savoring the delicious buildup of tension in his heavy balls. But now, Rasheed craved his release.
With a deft flick of his wrist, he clicked a button on the remote control nestled between his legs. The 81″ television adorning the far wall flared to life, displaying a tantalizing menu of pornographic delights. But Rasheed knew exactly what he desired. His eyes skipped over the countless options until they landed on the video labeled “Top 10 Cumshots, Solo Husband.”
A throaty, appreciative groan rumbled deep in Rasheed’s chest as the video began. The camera lingered on a close-up shot of a handsome bearded face, eyes squeezed shut in bliss as a hand pumped a thick, veiny cock. The man’s lips parted in a silent cry of ecstasy, tendons flexing in his neck, as a powerful orgasm overtook him.
Fuck, Rasheed thought, his cock throbbing in his own hand. He loved watching men lose themselves to pleasure, surrendering completely to the primal urge to spill their seed. His other hand drifted down to tease his furled nipples, the pinches sending jolts of pleasure straight to his swollen member.
The camera panned back to reveal a kitchen set, white marble countertops gleaming under bright studio lights. A shirtless man stood with one hand braced on the counter’s edge, hips rocking into his fisted cock. His balls drew up tight, signaling his impending climax. Rasheed could practically feel the tension coiling in his own heavy sack as he watched the man’s body flush with exertion.
“Yeah, fuck,” Rasheed groaned, his hips thrusting into the tight circle of his fist. “Come for me.”
As if obeying the unspoken command, the man on screen threw his head back with a hoarse shout, semen erupting from his cock in thick spurts. Pearly ropes of cum splattered across the pristine countertop, a couple of droplets catching on the wiry hairs at the base of his shaft.
Rasheed’s breathing grew ragged as he watched the next man masturbate furiously on his bed, the knuckles of his working hand a blurry streak against his pale skin. The camera caught a tantalizing glimpse of his heavy, cum-glazed balls as he gripped the base of his cock and squeezed, pearly seed jetting from his slit to paint his sweaty chest.
“Fucking beautiful,” Rasheed breathed, his free hand drifting down to cup and massage his own aching testicles. They felt swollen, ripe and heavy with seed, ready to be released by his stroking hand. “Fill up my ass, yeah?”
He rolled onto his hands and knees, rucking up his robe, exposing the dusky globes of his ass to the cool air. Grabbing a bottle of lube from the drawer of the end table, he squirted a generous amount onto his fingers and rubbed the slick digits against his twitching pucker.
“Oh fuck,” Rasheed groaned, his fingers breaching the tight ring of muscle, slick musky heat enveloping them. His cock jerked and leaked as he worked a second, then a third, finger into his ass, scissoring them delicately to stretch his needy hole.
Glancing over at the television as he thrust his fingers deeper, Rasheed watched a sexy treadmill shot, the bulky frame of a ripped, hairy-chested man filling the screen. Muscles flexing and glistening with sweat, the man gripped the handrails on either side of his running machine for balance as he furiously stroked his massive prick. The studio audience was audible even through the watching man’s headphones, a collective whoop of encouragement going up as the athlete neared his release. “Yeah, stroke it, stroke that big fucking cock,” Rasheed muttered, his need building to a fever pitch.
As if drawn by Rasheed’s inviting hole, the other hand drifted back down to trail sticky lube over his throbbing shaft, stroking in time with the man on the treadmill. His hips thrust shallowly into the tight tunnel of his fingers as he watched the exhibitionist athlete cum violently mid-stride, the force of his orgasm nearly causing him to stumble. Pearly streaks of jizz coated the plastic of the treadmill’s console as the camera zoomed in to capture every guttural groan and jerk of the man’s spent cock.
Rasheed’s breath caught in his throat as a delicious shiver ran down his spine, his hole clenching around the fingers buried inside him. He could feel his orgasm building, boiling up from his tightened sack and up his shaft, hot and insistent. His flared head flushed a deep, livid purple as his stroking increased speed.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna…” Rasheed moaned, his voice a ragged rasp in the candlelit room. His fingers scissored hard inside his twitching channel as his cock jerked in his other hand. Another man came on the screen, hot seed arching up to splatter on his hairy pecs.
“Ffffuck.” Rasheed’s cock pulsed in his fist as the first hot shoot of his release splashed against his abs. Continuing to stroke himself through the aftershocks, he watched as the final two studs in the video cut, each spewing ropes of pearly cum over their dark hands and chests as Rasheed wrapped the fingers of his free hand around his own throat, imagining it was that hand wrapped around his windpipe, choking him.
As the final man on screen threw his head back with a grunt, the last of Rasheed’s load spurting over his fingers, Rasheed muttered, “Perfect… just perfect,” and clicked the video off, already lit with the fire of a man who knew his favorite pastime: coming hard and often to porn with the one he loved.
