0 comments/ 92034 views/ 13 favorites It Has To Be Done By: everoptimistic Matt closed his eyes and slipped one hand inside his dark underwear. He had the little fluttery feeling of excitement and anticipation low in his stomach he always felt before he masturbated. It was more intense than usual because it was at least two weeks since he'd last had sex. He was naked but for his underwear having decided the moment his wife left for work that if he was going to do the job himself he might as well do it properly. He lay in the centre of their double bed with his legs splayed and his mouth half open. His right hand rested lightly on his soft cock and now he bent his fingers and moved his hand a little lower. He cupped his balls and lifted them gently; his sac felt loose and warm, and he squeezed it softly, without haste, determined to take his time and enjoy himself. When he masturbated he usually thought about something which aroused him, images reserved for the occasion, some dark and forbidden, some ordinary; men or women, spanking, tits, cunts or cocks, whatever he felt like thinking about at the time. Today he deliberately kept his mind clear, he didn't think he'd require much added stimulation. Lying nearly naked with his hand on his cock was already producing pleasant results. His cock had thickened a little. He felt it in his groin, in whatever linked nerve endings were involved, and he felt it under his hand; a slight but noticeable difference, firmness where there had been softness. An awakening. He swallowed and with his fingers still under his balls he softly stroked his cock with his thumb. It was very pleasant to lie there like that, to feel nothing but the slowly increasing desire for relief. Even better to know he would soon bring himself to an explosive, hip jerking ejaculation. But first he had the time to relish a long, slow build up. Now he reached down between his legs with his left hand and eased his underwear to one side, exposing his balls, and feeling a little rush of excitement as he did so. Freedom, liberation. It was always a special moment. He explored them minutely with his left hand, taking each ball in turn and feeling its weight and shape. He pulled gently on the hairs which grew there. He had a lazy erection now and felt the heightened sense of excitement and the soon to be fulfilled promise of gratification which accompanied it. Matt took off his underwear and his cock flopped heavily and semi-erect against his thigh. He lay back again with a contented sigh and raised his knees. His cock lay on its side and he lightly stroked its pale, exposed underside. He felt it growing harder, thickening. He used only the tip of one extended finger, rubbing gently, coaxing, stimulating and his cock responded in a deeply pleasing, almost unhurried way. As it slowly stiffened it eased more to the left, and as he continued to move his finger, it filled out, now almost fully erect. It lumbered slowly upright, first pointing towards his hip and then, straightening itself as it stiffened, it moved again, a quick, final lurch this time until it lay in position over his stomach, a full, exciting erection. Matt tensed his muscles there and made it move; it strained and lifted and dropped, strained and lifted and dropped. Now he stroked it from root to top with the smooth palm of his hand. His cock bobbed and strained and he felt the need for relief increase. He played with himself, gently stroking his cock open handed and then caressing his balls. He was pleased with the size and power of his erection. Those two weeks of celibacy were about to pay off. Next he began to stroke himself with both hands, one endlessly following the other; passing from root to swollen top. Both hands working in a continuous, stimulating cycle. His cock strained and the ache for relief increased again. On impulse Matt rolled over onto his stomach so his cock lay stiff, trapped firmly between the weight of his body and the bed. He moved his hips from side to side enjoying the feeling of his cock rubbing hard against the blanket. He dragged a pillow from the top of the bed and positioning it beneath him he closed his eyes and slowly pumped his hips to simulate fucking. He was breathing faster now and he turned onto his back again and took the pillow with him. It was bulky and soft and cool and he opened his legs wide and moved the pillow up and down, over his straining cock and heavy balls. The urge to simply take hold of his cock and masturbate until he climaxed was almost overwhelming. He pushed the pillow away and held his cock and now he moved his right hand up and down, five, six, seven times in slow, controlled masturbation. It would be so easy now to slip into a rhythm which would bring him quickly and smoothly to a climax. He was aching for release but as he felt the urge to continue well more strongly he deliberately snatched his hand away. He gasped out loud as his cock lurched and strained, his hips twitched but Matt didn't come. He waited for the need to climax to subside a degree and then he cautiously took hold of his cock again. It was slow, exquisite torture. He stared at the ceiling with his mouth open, all of his attention focused on his throbbing erection. He wanted desperately to proceed slowly but once again as he wrapped his fingers around his cock he felt the urge to keep going until he climaxed almost irresistible. He masturbated again, a faster, more urgent and extremely satisfying rhythm which quickly brought him to the point of ejaculation. Again, by sheer force of will he wrenched his hand away at the last moment. It was ecstasy and agony at the same time and he rolled onto his side and drew his knees up, groaning as his hips bucked and his cock strained. For a moment he was afraid he'd gone too far too often and he was about to grab his cock and finish the job when he achieved control again and the desperate desire to climax receded by slow, almost painful degrees. He lay on his back once more, breathing quickly, and after long moments, when he was able to trust he wouldn't climax the instant he touched his cock he reached for it again. There was a light feeling of excitement in his stomach when he began to masturbate again. His cock, straining in his hand, the movement of his hand, the intensity of feeling from all of it was unbelievably satisfying. This time he wouldn't stop. He moved his hand up and down his stiff cock, a little faster now, finally giving himself up to the pleasure of satisfying his own needs. His legs were wide and now he cupped his balls with his left hand. The mattress began to creak softly beneath him. Matt gritted his teeth and tensed the muscles in his lower stomach. There was nothing in his mind but the intense pleasure he was giving himself. His hand moved a little faster, a little more urgently. He opened his mouth when his cock began to swell. Now it was beginning and his heart rate quickened, the feeling of excitement in his stomach increased and continued to increase. His hand moved up and down, obeying the deep, basic urge which drove him on, up and down, pumping his straining, aching cock. He snatched a deep breath of air into his lungs and held it inside as his stomach muscles tensed the instant before he climaxed. His cock seemed to swell in his hand and it felt at that moment as if everything inside him was about to be ejaculated. There was a sudden explosive build up of intense and deeply gratifying pleasure and imminent relief and then Matt ejaculated with his teeth clenched and hand working furiously and his last breath locked inside his chest. He groaned aloud with pleasure, the sound wrenched from him as his thick cock spasmed powerfully in his hand. The semen erupted and he let it go, making no attempt to catch it. His hips bucked in reaction and his whole upper body jerked violently. The climax broke his rhythm and his hand faltered as he was seized by its power. With his muscles still tensed and still in the throes of ecstasy his hand struggled to find its rhythm again. His climax wasn't over. The deeply rewarding sense of pleasure which went with it still consumed him. Nothing else existed. His hand moved convulsively on his cock. It was almost impossible to continue. His hand simply wouldn't obey the order. His cock spasmed again, delightfully, pumping out more semen, and again, and again. His hand moved erratically as wave after wave of pleasure emanated out from his cock. His entire body was seized by two or three violent convulsions which seemed to travel all the way through him. Finally it was over and Matt's hand lay still. He took a deep, shuddering breath and looked up at the ceiling as his heart rate slowed, as all the tension and excitement drained away as slowly as the thick streams of semen now leaking sluggishly from his cock and down, over his fingers. There was more on his stomach and still more on his leg. He sighed and wet his dry lips. He was still holding his cock. Now it was softening. He closed his eyes and his thumb moved gently over the soft, slightly swollen skin. He was already looking forward to the next time. It Has To Be Done Ch. 02 (-I don't know about this one. A sequel, how about that? It seemed a workable idea. I mean, I've done this so I know it works in practice. If it doesn't work here I guess it's because I didn't write it well enough. It would be interesting to know what you think. Feedback always appreciated.) ----------------------------------------------- Donna was so hot. She moaned and her breath caught in her throat. Mickey held her face and leaned over to kiss her. He teased her, flicking his tongue against hers and when she wanted more he withrew it; his tongue darted and retreated. Their bed was creaking rhythmically and Donna was doing it all herself. Mickey fondled her breasts occasionally to add to her excitement- and his enjoyment- but it was Donna's hands between her legs that moved her hips and made the bed creak. It was midafternoon and the sun was shining through the window blinds laying alternating stripes of light and shade on the bed. Somewhere outside an ice cream truck jangled discordant music and Mickey watched with delight as his wife masturbated beside him. She was only half undressed and somehow that made it doubly exciting, more erotic and arousing. Her dark fringe lay in spikes over her eyes. She might have been assaulted the way she lay there with her clothes in disarray, her blouse unbuttoned and her skirt gathered about her waist. Her knees were raised and her legs were open and both hands moved inside her white lace, almost transparent, panties. Mickey's cock strained as he heard the wet sounds her busy fingers made. He used two fingers to lightly tap the swollen head of his cock through his underwear. He had read it would bring him to a climax, but not too soon. It felt good whatever it was doing but now most of his attention was focussed on Donna. Her dark hair was splayed on the pillow and her eyes were closed. He didn't know how many times she'd orgasmed but she didn't show any sign of tiring. It was warm in their bedroom and there were tiny beads of perspiration beside her nose. Now as he watched she drew in her lower lip and a narrow frown creased her forehead. Her left hand was still but he saw her right hand moving inside her panties, could see her fingers moving under the thin material, her index finger bending and flexing. Her frown deepened and her white teeth bit down harder on her shining lower lip. Her hips began to buck again and her movements became more urgent. Donna tossed her head from side to side on the pillows. She was breathing hard, drawing in gasps of air in quick succession. There was an unmistakable sense of mounting excitement in the sound. Now her bottom lifted from the bed to meet her thrusting hands as she drove herself eagerly to orgasm. She moaned low in her throat and her breasts trembled as both hands worked feverishly between her legs. She dropped back onto the bed then arched her back. Her hips rose again and the muscles and sinews in her legs stood out beneath the skin. She cried out and Mickey seized her breasts, and caressed them roughly, helping her, driving her on to her climax, sustaining her pleasure, adding to it, stimulating her. Her cries grew louder, the mattress bounced as her bottom rose and fell half a dozen times in quick succession. Mickey couldn't take any more. He lay down beside Donna as her frantic movements gradually subsided. Quickly stretching the front of his underwear down he eased out his aching cock. Now he lay on his left arm and looked at Donna. He held his cock with his left hand and the weight of his body kept his hand still as he slowly moved his hips. His thick cock was thrust into the warm, ready circle made by his fingers and thumb; eased in and slowly withdrawn. Donna took a deep, shuddering breath and smiled at Mickey, her eyes, already bright with excitement now opened wide with undisguised interest. He pumped his hips slowly, wanting it to last, enjoying it. His cock moved in his cupped hand and Donna turned onto her side to watch him. He kept moving his hips at the same steady rate and resisted the urge to hurry. Now Donna brushed her hair from her face. There were high spots of colour on her cheeks and as she watched him, Mickey saw her tongue pass lightly between her lips. He looked at her breasts, at the way they fell heavily as she lay on her side, her nipples still erect. At the pink lace bra which had been hurriedly pushed down to expose them. At her wrinkled blouse. She looked satisfied, fulfilled. He looked lower, at her stomach and white panties, the soft, hidden mound of her pubic hairs, her long legs. She smiled as she teased an extended nipple with one finger. Mickey smiled back and began to thrust his hips a little faster. He saw Donna raise her leg and put her hand over her pussy again. She was rubbing herself slowly this time, adding to his already heightened sense of excitement. She was watching him all the time, her head on the pillow close to his own, brown eyes shining. With his free right hand he gently caressed her breasts, exploring them, splaying his fingers and cupping her. He lifted one breast and then let it fall back into place under its own delightful weight. He stroked her soft, pale shoulder as he masturbated before her. Mickey thrust his hips and his cock moved smoothly in and out of his hand. He felt his climax approaching, still off somewhere in the distance but each increasingly urgent thrust brought it excitingly nearer. It was tantalising, a goal he had to reach. His mouth was open a little now and he was breathing faster as he concentrated, focussing all of his attention on what he was doing; pumping his hips, masturbating, racing eagerly towards his climax while Donna watched. Now she too began to masturbate with increasing abandon and urgency. Mickey felt himself coming. It built quickly once it had started, as it always did; delightfully, explosively. He moved his hips and held his cock with his pinned left hand. It was a rising surge of excitement and intense pleasure growing somewhere deep inside, welling up, growing, in his cock, in his balls, everywhere. All consuming, over powering. And now Donna began to moan beside him. They watched each other intently; with excitement and shared delight, gasping for breath, both carried along on a wave of shared pleasure. The bed creaked and moved beneath them as Mickey felt his semen surging up through his cock touching off all the right nerves on the way; pleasure, pain, gratification and now intense relief. He ejaculated onto the bed and his whole body spasmed. He moaned with each succeeding spurt of semen his now uncontrolled movements coaxed from his straining cock. Beside him Donna closed her eyes and cried out with her own personal pleasure.