So I’m leaning back into the couch, my legs spread apart, my erection straining against the nylon shell. The upside down V of the underside of the head of my cock was clearly outlined thru the material, the shaft just as much. Below, the sheath of nylon formed a tent over the space between the sides of my balls and the shaft, but my testicles themselves were tightly wrapped in the blue material.
As she let her fingers dance over my shorts, I felt myself at the verge of orgasm, just the lightest touch would probably send me over the edge. Would she, or wouldn’t she? Last time, she was very decisive in teasing but going no further. This time, would she take things one more step?
I wanted her to make contact, to trace her fingertip up the underside of my shaft. Just the slightest bit of pressure, in my mind, that’s all I asked. I was sure that I could clench and force my erection against her fingers, and that action would be too much for her to resist. But she kept avoiding the ridge itself.