You made me cum so often and so hard. Every story, every exchange made my cock throb and my balls ache. Whether I was at home or at work, you knew just how to make the blood rush to my loins and erect my manhood.

I don’t know why you disappeared or if you’ll be back, but this one is for you. I hope you find it one day and know that I’ll always think of you.

** The lab was cold and quiet. Not a sound to be made on a Friday morning when everyone else was working from home. I sat down in the usual chair at the usual table and started scrolling through my phone. Then it pinged. That glowing, red bubble signifying that it was time. Finger shaking, I popped it open and my eyes flitted across the screen.

“Cum for me daddy” was all that was written and it was all I needed. Shutting the door and turning off the lights, my pants fell down to the floor, my cock released from its prison. A burly hand enveloped the shaft. My hand. Grasping the hefty meat in a tight embrace, my eyes closed imagining your warm, velvety, wet folds. Up and down, up and down. The strokes getting longer and harder. My mind raced and I opened my eyes, flipping open your stories. The massage, the shower. Each scene ran through my head, each climax pulsating the veins in my cock. My heartbeat was strong in my hands.

My mind locked on Victoria in the shower. Her tribulations and arduous experience etched into the back of my eyelids as I felt that familiar tingling in my balls. The dam wanted to break, needed to break. “Dewdrop”, I moaned with need and desperation. “I’m gonna…” The gates opened and my breathe caught in my throat. I loosened my grip on myself and a rocket of hot white cum splattered on the desk in front of me. Stars filled my eyes and and my mind started going blank. Pulsing spurts of my climax continued, painting the lab bench white against its black finished surface. “Dewdrop…” I moaned as the feeling began to subside. The ballooning member in my hand began to deflate, it’s mission accomplished. The blood left my loins and returned to feed my brain, allowing me to process what had just happened.

I got up slowly, grabbing a paper towel to clean myself off. I adjusted myself, got my lower half dressed, the proceeded to clean up the painting I had made. **

I hope you see this, I hope you are still out there, and I hope you keep writing, even if it’s under another name.