Stroking for money
He looked in the mirror and liked what he saw.
Fit over sixty was hot. At least to him, and many of his followers.
Glancing down, he saw his cock in the show position: not hard, not soft, just long and pulsing. Can’t wait for it to get hard, he thought, giving it a stretch out….
Never gets old. Since that fated day when he felt his cock twitch and contort uncontrollably one night, he had love to masturbate.
That first time he didn’t feel confused or guilty, ashamed, or shy. Not a bit. With that first jerk of cum out of his purple cock, the first smell of semen, the creamy milk of cum, he knew he had found a lifelong passion.
Five times a day? Not uncommon. Six and he was raw but still stroked to the end, nuts convulsing in pleasure, shaft screeching in chafing pain.
Should have known then, he admonished himself. How much waste. Cum, or rather cumming, is gold these days.
It took him a long time to even figure out that masturbation wasn’t just something you did between fucking.
It started with his wife Kim. Queen Kim. She was soft as a feather, warm as a hearth with fire, not a muscle on her. Just the way he liked. Flat on her back legs spread and purring like a well-fed lioness. Fed, feted, and fucked, is how she liked it.
He used to watch porn with big soft women and masturbated like a God. One morning, the regular hard between his legs he just started stroking. Fuck it he thought, I am horny and don’t want to wake her. Gooning it was. And grunting just loud enough to stir the Queen.
Next thing he knew he was standing by her side of the bed, cock over top of her, masturbating to her sleepy gaze.
He told her to show herself. To open her legs, to show her fat cunt (her words not his), balls smacking up against his hand with each downward stroke. He came that morning in long ropy ropes all over her soft belly and black pubics. His cock gave for an eternity until the purple head drooled with transparent milk. It was among his best ever cums.
From that morning on, he felt free to masturbate as a pleasure, for himself, and as he was to find out not too much later, to jerk for the pleasure of others.
His cock was nice btw. Just over 7 when about to burst. Fat enough to fill any but the loosest holes. And he could cum like an 18-year-old. Streamy long ejaculations when he did choose to cum. You see, he had learned long ago to have internal orgasms. The Queen had suggested this was possible. She had found out about it in some guru thing. In many cultures, particularly ones which dabble more in the realm of the mystic, recycling orgasmic seamen creates divine energy. One could simple keep building up building up infinite amounts of energy, some said enough for immortality.
He got the mystical thing but didn’t really buy it. He preferred the vernacular and called it what it was: edging.
And could he edge? Like an eagle flies, like a Siberian husky howls, like a bull bellows mounted on a heated heifer, he could edge, holding on to an ejaculation creeping up mid-rod, willing it back down to his nuts for recycling.
He could do this for hours and days. It heats up until like lava from an ancient volcano, semen erupts blowing apart the physical and mental boarders with this world in fall to your knees orgasms one after the other.
And that, he now knows, is the money shot. People pay to watch that kind of explosion. He also discovered that the amount of seamen he had thrown for free, fucking money off a bridge.
He figured all this out through porn.
An avid porn watcher, he used to goon five times a week to his latest fetish or fantasy. For years he did this, until one day, guy online asked him if they could cam and stroke together watching porn.
That was that. Soon he was jerking to cam audiences on an adult web site. His purple cock getting off from guys women trans and all sorts of others.
He loved to stroke and chit chat dirty, leaving audio on for extra hot exchanges. He was well watched too. Always a top three strokers, guys that stroked for people who loved to watch. Mostly men, but that was ok, he loved to think of their hard ons, especially if it looked just like his.
There were women too. Cum heads, who like crack addicts lived to make guys on cam cum. They all love to bang on his cam to make him cum, hot pics, dirty talk, anything. But he only came when it pleased him to do so, and he took great pride to edge one internal orgasm after another making the Cum heads work hard for his cum. He loved them most.
then he learned to make them happy by spitting on his cock when it his head was just off cam. He tried to hide it and sometimes did, but people saw what they wanted to see. And what they saw was loads of pre cum. This gets them all the more excited and nastier. Guys beg to suck him virtually, women flash their nastiest ass, tits and pussy shots.
One time he was enjoying a beer giving his show. The crowd was crazy hot, so instead of spit, he fuzzed some beer and drooled it on his cock. They went wild, sending him points after point for the performance.
That was when he made the connection. People **** for the Maker of Life, the Moment of Bliss, the Gift of the Gods. Men love the pulsing ejaculation as if it was their own. Women love it too. It was either fascination born of innocence and inexperience, or the high of making guys spew.
From time to time, he would get off with a follower, but unless they ****, he prefered to shut down the cam, lay down on the bed, and close his eyes cumming to a private fantasy.
Masturbating for others? If it made them happy, if it filled a void, scratched an itch, created a fantasy, then it was all good. He didn’t care about the specifics. Not at all. Just the pleasure.
He got off as well, so it was a free and fair exchange. Until he started advertising private shows. Cam to cam. Nasty chat included: 100 bucks a half hour, no guarantee of cum. An hour is 250 and 300 with cum. He could get hard and encourage any legal fetish or fantasy that got someon off. Bring it all on, any chat, he almost always gets hard . And if he couldn’t, the session was free. No questions asked.
That was his product and those are the rates.
He smiled in the mirror as he swallowed an ED, took a drag from a fatty, and thought, let’s go make some money handsome.
Fit over sixty was hot. At least to him, and many of his followers.
Glancing down, he saw his cock in the show position: not hard, not soft, just long and pulsing. Can’t wait for it to get hard, he thought, giving it a stretch out….
Never gets old. Since that fated day when he felt his cock twitch and contort uncontrollably one night, he had love to masturbate.
That first time he didn’t feel confused or guilty, ashamed, or shy. Not a bit. With that first jerk of cum out of his purple cock, the first smell of semen, the creamy milk of cum, he knew he had found a lifelong passion.
Five times a day? Not uncommon. Six and he was raw but still stroked to the end, nuts convulsing in pleasure, shaft screeching in chafing pain.
Should have known then, he admonished himself. How much waste. Cum, or rather cumming, is gold these days.
It took him a long time to even figure out that masturbation wasn’t just something you did between fucking.
It started with his wife Kim. Queen Kim. She was soft as a feather, warm as a hearth with fire, not a muscle on her. Just the way he liked. Flat on her back legs spread and purring like a well-fed lioness. Fed, feted, and fucked, is how she liked it.
He used to watch porn with big soft women and masturbated like a God. One morning, the regular hard between his legs he just started stroking. Fuck it he thought, I am horny and don’t want to wake her. Gooning it was. And grunting just loud enough to stir the Queen.
Next thing he knew he was standing by her side of the bed, cock over top of her, masturbating to her sleepy gaze.
He told her to show herself. To open her legs, to show her fat cunt (her words not his), balls smacking up against his hand with each downward stroke. He came that morning in long ropy ropes all over her soft belly and black pubics. His cock gave for an eternity until the purple head drooled with transparent milk. It was among his best ever cums.
From that morning on, he felt free to masturbate as a pleasure, for himself, and as he was to find out not too much later, to jerk for the pleasure of others.
His cock was nice btw. Just over 7 when about to burst. Fat enough to fill any but the loosest holes. And he could cum like an 18-year-old. Streamy long ejaculations when he did choose to cum. You see, he had learned long ago to have internal orgasms. The Queen had suggested this was possible. She had found out about it in some guru thing. In many cultures, particularly ones which dabble more in the realm of the mystic, recycling orgasmic seamen creates divine energy. One could simple keep building up building up infinite amounts of energy, some said enough for immortality.
He got the mystical thing but didn’t really buy it. He preferred the vernacular and called it what it was: edging.
And could he edge? Like an eagle flies, like a Siberian husky howls, like a bull bellows mounted on a heated heifer, he could edge, holding on to an ejaculation creeping up mid-rod, willing it back down to his nuts for recycling.
He could do this for hours and days. It heats up until like lava from an ancient volcano, semen erupts blowing apart the physical and mental boarders with this world in fall to your knees orgasms one after the other.
And that, he now knows, is the money shot. People pay to watch that kind of explosion. He also discovered that the amount of seamen he had thrown for free, fucking money off a bridge.
He figured all this out through porn.
An avid porn watcher, he used to goon five times a week to his latest fetish or fantasy. For years he did this, until one day, guy online asked him if they could cam and stroke together watching porn.
That was that. Soon he was jerking to cam audiences on an adult web site. His purple cock getting off from guys women trans and all sorts of others.
He loved to stroke and chit chat dirty, leaving audio on for extra hot exchanges. He was well watched too. Always a top three strokers, guys that stroked for people who loved to watch. Mostly men, but that was ok, he loved to think of their hard ons, especially if it looked just like his.
There were women too. Cum heads, who like crack addicts lived to make guys on cam cum. They all love to bang on his cam to make him cum, hot pics, dirty talk, anything. But he only came when it pleased him to do so, and he took great pride to edge one internal orgasm after another making the Cum heads work hard for his cum. He loved them most.
then he learned to make them happy by spitting on his cock when it his head was just off cam. He tried to hide it and sometimes did, but people saw what they wanted to see. And what they saw was loads of pre cum. This gets them all the more excited and nastier. Guys beg to suck him virtually, women flash their nastiest ass, tits and pussy shots.
One time he was enjoying a beer giving his show. The crowd was crazy hot, so instead of spit, he fuzzed some beer and drooled it on his cock. They went wild, sending him points after point for the performance.
That was when he made the connection. People **** for the Maker of Life, the Moment of Bliss, the Gift of the Gods. Men love the pulsing ejaculation as if it was their own. Women love it too. It was either fascination born of innocence and inexperience, or the high of making guys spew.
From time to time, he would get off with a follower, but unless they ****, he prefered to shut down the cam, lay down on the bed, and close his eyes cumming to a private fantasy.
Masturbating for others? If it made them happy, if it filled a void, scratched an itch, created a fantasy, then it was all good. He didn’t care about the specifics. Not at all. Just the pleasure.
He got off as well, so it was a free and fair exchange. Until he started advertising private shows. Cam to cam. Nasty chat included: 100 bucks a half hour, no guarantee of cum. An hour is 250 and 300 with cum. He could get hard and encourage any legal fetish or fantasy that got someon off. Bring it all on, any chat, he almost always gets hard . And if he couldn’t, the session was free. No questions asked.
That was his product and those are the rates.
He smiled in the mirror as he swallowed an ED, took a drag from a fatty, and thought, let’s go make some money handsome.
2年前
