Just (Gotta) Do It

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For me, getting in a "quickie" - that furious pounding of my pud and cumming as soon as I can - is a necessary thing. It's akin to needing to take a leak so bad that you're afraid you'll piss your pants, or your bladder will explode, if you don't take a whizz right now.

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There were many times at work when I was so tense I couldn't concentrate on anything. All I could think about was the need to get my rocks off. I couldn't wait to get home for lunch, unzip my pants, and pound one out. I'll admit, plenty of times, my cock would be so hard that I'd undo my pants as soon as I got in the car - and blast one out. And yet others when I literally couldn't wait and go to the men's room - not even bothering to lock myself in a stall, I'd stand at the urinal, pretending to take a piss but actually whacking off. A couple of times right at the sinks, blowing cum all over the counters and have it drooling down my boner.

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The need to take care of the boner and relieve my nuts was that great. And, just like the long-awaited piss - the kind where your head drops back and you heave a great sigh of relief - the release was heaven sent.

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