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I left his office in worse shape than when I arrived. My wife took one look at me and hugged me and told me to go to bed. I could barely move my legs enough to get me to the bathroom to brush my teeth and pee, but I stumbled to the bedroom shedding my clothes and dropping into bed.

My cock had finally subsided a little, but now, in bed, alone, it took on a life of its own again. I tried to ignore my erection, to put it out of my mind, to will it to soften, but nothing worked. I’d never thought about an erection as a bad thing before, but now it was almost like I was scared of it and it was in charge of me.

At last I mentally surrendered my reluctance and rationalized that maybe if I stroked one out I’d fall asleep. I ran my hand down my chest and put it on top of my cock through my boxers. It felt so hard, so powerful. I had to again credit Erin, somehow, as I hadn’t been this hard since I was much, much younger.

And once I thought of his name, I couldn’t get him out of my mind. I saw him standing tall in our session and his body and cock through his professional clothes. I saw myself in front of him as he put his hands on my head and guided me on to his hard cock.

Wait, where the hell istanbul travesti did that come from, a part of me asked, but it was too late, as the image of Erin and his cock flooded my mind and my hand stroked my cock through my boxers so quickly. The friction soon got to me and I spurted and pulsed and shot.

Exhausted, I quickly fell into the deepest sleep I had in months.

My wife called in to work for me the next morning. I slept until around 11, feeling more like myself than recently. What was not like myself was the erection I was walking around with.

I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, naked as the shower was warming up. As I stepped into the hot water, I grabbed the “manscaping” tool my wife had given me as a joke a few years back. She’d commented at the time that it was a lot more pleasurable to go down on a cock without a lot of hair there, but she’d never pushed and I hadn’t given it a second thought.

Now, however, it seemed perfectly natural and right that I would trim my hair. As I carefully worked on myself, a voice in my head said that trimming was nice, but how much hotter would it look if I was bare.

“Think of how big it’ll look.” “Think istanbul travestileri of how good it’ll look.” “Erin’s cock is probably bare.”

I needed no more motivation as I carefully removed all the hair from around my cock and from my balls. As the water splashed on me, I took my balls in my hand and felt them, really felt them. I have a memory of past girlfriends touching them but it was always on the way to my cock. I’d never really considered mine before and I spent some time fondling them and exploring.

Which inevitably led to my finger exploring my crack and my rosebud.

Which further led to me on my knees as the cum spurted and pulsed. I imagined being on my knees in front of Erin as he caressed my chin and called me a good boy and allowed me to adore his hairless cock. It wasn’t until the water began to run warm, then cold, that I was roused from my fantasy. I turned the water off and slowly got to my feet, still a little dizzy. I had to hold on to a corner of the wall to steady myself.

I went to put on some boxers. As I was pulling them up my legs I had a thought that these were not very flattering. I shook my head and pulled them up. Then I stood and looked at myself travesti istanbul in the mirror. Something seemed wrong. I’ve always worn boxers, boxer briefs if I needed to. But something was off now.

The rumble of my stomach interrupted that train of thought and I pulled on some Vuoris over my boxers and padded to the kitchen. I went to reach for a piece of leftover pizza but again, something felt wrong. Suddenly that pizza didn’t seem so appealing and I grabbed an apple instead.

I walked around as I was eating it. At one point I passed the bathroom and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. “Not bad,” I thought initially. Then some doubt crept in. I could use a little definition. This lack of sleep and energy had caused me to drop a few pounds, but I could see where losing a few more wouldn’t hurt.

I ran my palm over my core, which was clearly not a six-pack. Another wave of slight despair.

I slowly brought my palm up to my nipple and rubbed it. My other hand went to my joggers, then rubbed my bulge. As I palmed my cock, I started to get hard, but I needed more. I needed an additional spark to put me over the edge.

Then I heard my phone buzz and automatically picked it up. It was a number I didn’t recognize, but it wasn’t listed as spam, so I answered.

Much to my surprise it was Erin, checking in on me. I immediately added this number of my contacts. I heard him talk, but I don’t remember much about the rest of the conversation.

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