It was starting not to feel enough. After releasing his load deep into some guy’s ass, Daniel still felt empty. It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t you. With a growl, Daniel told his hook-up to get the fuck out of his face, and within seconds, the slut was dressed and out of his apartment.
With a mean scowl, Daniel grabbed his phone and pulled up a picture of you and began stroking his meat to him. Fuck, he needed to be in you, just once. He imagined how tight he’d be, and how cute his moans and cries would sound against his skin — and within minutes, Daniel grunted and came on his hand. It still wasn’t enough.
Tossing his phone aside and feeling increasingly frustrated, Daniel stared up at his ceiling. At first, fucking a couple of guys and imagining them as you was enough, but since he’d done it so much, it didn’t feel as good anymore, and it frustrated the fuck out of Daniel. Bedroom reeking of sex, Daniel reluctantly slid on his sweatpants and furrowed his brow when somebody knocked on his door. Was it another hookup?
Approaching his front door and opening it, Daniel’s eyes widened when he saw you at his front door. “Fuck are you doing here so late? It’s dangerous,” he scolded, and unbeknownst to him, his erection was straining against his sweatpants.
