Come on clock. I gotta go. There's something I need to do. I can't hold it. I don't wanna. It's explicit but damn it feels good. Clock, will you hurry the fuck up? I'm ready to pop. I can't wait. I feel it coming. Wtf!? Clock!!! Help me out. Send me home. In the privacy of my own twisted grip. Alone n imagining things unmentionable to most. Wanting to play. To jerk. To loosen the fuck up. I'm losing it. The pulsation is too much. Clock me out. I need a release. I'm backed up. Bothered by thoughts. By a desires to do as I please. By golly hrs feel like days. When it'll only take me a few minutes to explode. With long slow strokes to calm my nerves. To ease the tension. To soften my girth. I have anyone but me so free up my time. I'm damn near on the edge. Daydreaming of a rug n a pull. Standing with one hand on the wall. Head cocked back. Grunting. Letting go of reality as I think dirty little thoughts. Until I... Yeah!!! Fuck yeah...
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