“Hand Solo” (A/L)

(A) – This story briefly mentions anal play. 

(L) – This story contains strong language. 

Bryan’s eyes popped open, and his internal clock knew it wasn’t even three in the morning yet. A brief check of his phone confirmed it: 2:27 am. Mere seconds ago, he was sleeping deeply, but he felt something even before he fell asleep several hours before. Other men know the feeling. It was a buzz—an energy, so to speak—coursing through his veins. Some would simplify it as being horny. Yes, that would suffice, but it wasn’t accurate. Bryan was experiencing more. 

In the middle of the pitch-black room, he heard the air conditioner humming and the nearby tower fan gently circulating the cool bedroom air. His breathing was slow and rhythmic, and his heartbeat reflected his tranquility. Yet, there was this charge flowing throughout his entire body. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t feel any bodily sensations, but he instantly became fully aware of every part of his muscular frame. He lay still, allowing his mental focus to travel from his head and neck to his traps and chest, down to his abdomen and genitals—his mind hovered there for several seconds and reasons—and, finally, to his pillar-like legs and feet that poked out from underneath his comforter. He’d experienced it several times before, especially when his diet and physical activity were dialed in. He would feel the effects within a day of being locked into his program. So, he would often experience it, but the joy and surprise of it never got old. 

Bryan thought about the internal sensation—the power—he was feeling. It was more than strength or desire. It was…his being.  He was acutely aware of not just his sexuality but his masculinity—his manhood—that part of him that made him more than simply male, but a man with integrity, honor, fortitude, dependability, and backbone. The thing that drove him to excel and pursue his dreams on his best days but sent him to the foot of the Cross on his worst. Yet, he was fundamentally mindful of his need for Christ every moment. But, in the stillness of the night, Bryan reveled in the blessing of being a man. It wasn’t a knock against women or thinking that they were less than in any way. This son of God was merely understanding David’s words from Psalms 139:14: “I will give thanks and praise to You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.”

His mind refocused on his cock and balls. He wasn’t fully hard, but he could feel the meatiness of his member and the weight of his balls hanging between his legs, the bottom of them just grazing the bedsheet only a millimeter or two below them. Blood began filling his dick, and he felt his heartbeat quickening, the internal sound of it thumping against the exterior silence. Bryan stretched his entire body and inhaled deeply. He held the tension in each of his contracted muscles until he exhaled and released the stiffness. Yet, his cock remained at full attention. He didn’t need to see it to know that he had pitched a full tent with the comforter that rested on his frame, his cock steepling the fabric. Enjoying the comfort of his bed and adjusting his position, Bryan instinctually flexed his glutes, causing his pelvis to push toward the ceiling. He felt his erection stiffen even more. 

That power he’d been feeling since the day before turned animalistic. He couldn’t ignore it if he tried. His manhood needed to express itself. Though a single man and 44 years of age without looking a day over 30, he would opt for a wife lying next to him. However, God hadn’t brought her his way just yet. So, he’d have to take care of himself. He wanted and craved pussy, and not just any pussy—his wife’s pussy. Nevertheless, going “Hand Solo” was never bad on a night like this. He was turned on just by being himself and the man God made him. 

Bryan pulled the comforter off of himself, letting it rest on his legs just beneath his flagpole cock and low-hanging balls. His left hand lingered around the base of his dick while his right hand began slowly toying and pulling at his ball sac. He kept his eyes closed, breathing slowly as his fingers traveled along and felt each vein in his long and girthy cock and the smoothness of his stones that easily moved about inside their bag. After a few seconds of caressing his gifts, Bryan let his left hand creep from his cock up his abs and to his chest, where he played with his nipples that hardened at the slightly chilly air. His right hand stayed with his balls, fondling them. Bryan inhaled deeply and sighed with a bass-filled groan.

He kept at his personal nipple play as his right hand took its place on his shaft, slowly stroking the base of it. He felt his cock buck and kick as he stroked upward towards its head. With that movement, he felt the telltale sign that he was “wet.” His hand lazily traveled to just below his helmet and squeezed ever so slightly. He felt the cool air running across his dickhead become even cooler. He dabbed at the opening of his cock with his right index finger. Sure enough—precum…and it was flowing down his rod.

“Lord,” he said, “thank You for making me a man.”

Bryan folded his hands behind his head and simply enjoyed lying in his warm bed, his body exposed to the bedroom, and his hard cock piercing upwards into the air like a rocket ready to blast off. After a few seconds, his hands went back to work. His right hand cradled his balls and pulled at his sac while his left hand took its time stroking his massive shaft. He dabbed at the head of his cock again with his right index finger and brought it to his tongue, tasting his slightly sweet precum and licking his fingers before returning them south. He spread his legs even more and found his opening, rubbing it slightly. He enjoyed his slick finger barely slipping into his hole as his pulse began pounding in his cock. There were no images of a firm, round ass, perfect tits resilient to gravity, or wet and waiting pussy dancing through his head. Bryan was focusing solely on himself and the joy of his body.

That first inner wave of warmth teased him just beneath his balls, signaling he was on his way to a release in a few more moments, but he was in no rush to get there. 

Bryan’s pelvis joined the rhythm of his strokes with his left hand. He nonchalantly thrust upwards into his hand; it remained motionless, allowing the rest of his body to do the work. Every ripple of skin, rise of a vein, and ridge of the smooth muscle beneath his dick skin coursed with arousal. He opened his eyes, and, for some reason, that made him more aware of what he was doing. Though he didn’t need to look at himself to know what to do, he was driven to see what he looked like. He commanded his Google Home to turn on the lights, but only at 10% intensity. He had to keep the mood, of course. 

He saw his chest rising and falling with every breath, his abs contracting with each stroke, and his cock standing tall and resolute, pulsating as he pleased himself in joy at the thought of being a contented single man of God. The truth hit him like a ton of bricks: there was no way his future wife would appreciate him if he didn’t know how to love and appreciate himself. Another praise erupted from his lips:

“Lord, thank You for teaching me how to love me.”

The pace of Bryan’s stroke quickened, but not by much. He groaned at the jolt of pleasure that emanated from his cock and spread throughout his body. He repeated that same movement, causing another wave to ripple through him. It was time to concentrate his efforts for just a bit. He kept his left hand right around the helmet of his cock and lightly, quickly stroked it. The sensation was delightfully overwhelming, and it didn’t take long for that warmth at the base of his balls to become full-blown fire. He wanted to cum, but not yet, so he backed off and brought his strokes back down to the base. After a few seconds, his grip ascended, and he quickly stroked his dickhead for several moments. He went back and forth, climbing and descending toward and away from exploding all over himself and his bed. He took his time torturing himself with pleasure. 

“Fuck, yes,” he said, breathing heavily. Then, “I need to cum…not yet.” 

Bryan returned to his measured stroke with his left hand traveling the entire length of his thickness while his right hand worked his balls and taint. He was merely riding the undulating waves of joy. There were several instances throughout his life where he jerked off and popped within minutes, but this was one of those times that his solo sex became an edging session he didn’t want to leave. When he stole another glance at the clock, Bryan was astonished. It was approaching 3:30 am!

He kept his eyes open as he got both hands on his stick and began working himself, keeping his easy-does-it pace, but the surge was brewing. In a few moments, there would be no holding back because the volume had been building for quite some time. 

Though jerking himself while dry was a tried and true method that always gave him great results, one additional element would set things off. Bryan managed to tear his hands from his dick and rummage through the drawers of both nightstands on either side of his bed. He pulled some coconut oil from one, quickly opened the jar, and scooped some into his hands. He rubbed the sweet-smelling oil between his palms and mentally readied himself for what he was about to feel. 

Ever. So. Slowly…Bryan pushed himself up into his hands which waited just above his cock. He grunted loudly from his core as his hands made it to the bottom of his shaft, with the top poking out from the top hand. He rubbed the oil into his cock skin before stroking himself again. He pulled both hands up and brought them back down, causing the oil to mingle even more with the precum that intermittently flowed from his cock. He shuddered at the sensation and moaned from the depths of himself, the intensity of that ebbing fire beneath his balls intensifying even more. He’d been coaxing it for the better part of an hour, and there was little more he could do to diminish his drive to bust the fattest nut he’d released in a while. 

Bryan closed his eyes as his pace picked up. His groans and moans were in sync with his strokes. It was only his left hand on his dick now, and his right hand was busily massaging his balls and taint, the oil making it easier and enhancing every single moment. The fire was spreading quickly. He wasn’t at the point of no return, but there was no quenching his heat. His body and mind—his instinct—compelled him to continue. He kept his speed and intensity. His grip didn’t tighten or diminish. He was in his zone, right where he needed to be. 

His entire body tingled with anticipation as the fire in his loins was now white-hot. He knew of nothing but his impending cum and the cock in his hand. His balls couldn’t contract because his right hand was pulling his sac away from his body, instinctively prolonging the orgasm that was about to rip him in half. He felt that inner sinking feeling give way to a blazing-hot surge that traveled from beneath his balls into the base of his shaft. The pressure and inner fever swelled as he opened his eyes to see his cock beginning to twitch and jolt, the veins of which were throbbing and making his unit look like a roadmap. His shaft was at its thickest and longest. He intentionally relaxed his entire body as much as possible, letting nature have its way with him.

The magnitude of the orgasm that was about to kick in the door of his soul was earth-shattering. Moaning or groaning wasn’t abnormal for him, but that masculine charge he’d felt for the past several days did something else. Crazily, Bryan chuckled at how he was feeling, but that chortle gave way to a grunt that turned into a primal yell as rope after rope after rope after rope after rope after rope spewed from his throbbing cock. The first few cum streams he fired landed on the wall just above and behind his bed’s headboard. The next few landed on his face, trailing down to his beard and neck. The last few decorated his abs. But he was still going. He was releasing little spurts that jettisoned from his dick and landed on his hand that was no longer stroking but holding fast to his unit. 

Bryan was shaking as the rest of the orgasm passed, but its charge still lingered. His yelling turned to gasps for air as he collected himself. He returned to chuckling, surprised at the feeling of what just happened. He looked down at his chest, eyes wide at the sheer volume of his cum. He finally felt the cum on his face and beard and looked back to see the damage he caused to the headboard and the wall. He laid back down, laughing and breathing heavily, content. 

After a few minutes of resting in the mess he was so proud of, Bryan got out of bed and cleaned the headboard and wall of the evidence. Then, he headed to the shower. He stepped into the warm water, allowing it to wash over him. As usual, he took down the shower head and sprayed the water all over himself, only to stop when the water stream hit his balls and cock at the right angle. It wasn’t even his intention, but it felt…SO…FUCKING…GOOD. He was hardening again. A smile crept across his face as one hand held the shower head, and the other began stroking his dick. 

He laughed and said, “Lord, thank You for making me a man.”