"Andd .. cut!" the director yelled from atop of his chair "That was terrific, KJ! We're done for the day!"
And so the man descended from the rope, his face reddened; clearly he seemed exhausted, but that didn't extinguish his vigor. His smile still beamed, glistened by the stage light.
"Thanks, Ger!" KJ yelled at the director. He was wearing a white tanktop, flashing his lush pit while waving to the crew "I'll be at my trailer if you need me!"
As exhausting as it was, KJ still had lots of energy left; dare he say, too much. As he slammed the metal trailer's door, his attention was drawn to another place .. his member. It's been excruciatingly painful since the last take. His coworker accidentally bumped into his crotch, and it hadn't stopped raging.
He sat down on the leather sofa, softly stroking his tenting shorts. He can feel his face flushing, while his mind derailed into lewd thoughts. He slowly pulled his shorts down, revealing his midnight black Calvin Klein briefs, musty from his sweat. The odor swiftly seeped into the room, giving him a sensation he never knew he ever had.
"..I have a little time .." he mumbled to himself. KJ hadn't had the chance to shave. His meat stood proud above the bushy mess. His foreskin was fully retracted, giving him a painful pleasure everytime his cock throbbed. The vein, clearly imprinted on his darker skin, as if it was dancing, luring KJ to take care of his raging hormones.
KJ grabbed it, with his calloused hand, he could feel every sensation, every stroke. He moved it, up, down, once every two seconds, as if he was savoring every moment of his unhinged lust. He bit his lip, breathing heavily like a stallion in heat.
His left hand slipped under his wet, musky tanktop, reaching for his right erected nipple. He played it, twirled it, and pressed it like a button. He grunted when he felt giddiness run down his spine.
Without warning, his right palm stroked his member faster, and faster, milking himself. His manly grunts turned into panting, and his groans turned into full-on moans. Since his nipples didn't give him as much pleasure as they did a few seconds ago, he lifted his left arm, sniffing his own scent. That manly, musky scent after a whole six straight hours of shooting. He sighed after every exhale, and inhaled again, like a wild dog.
As the foreskin was pushed by his hand to cover his glans, he could feel his precum starting to drip. Not much, only one drop at every stroke, but it soiled the brown leather couch, leaving a trickling track, silent proof of his horniness.
"F.. fuck.. ngh.. this is so good .." he mumbled to himself. Clearly, he hadn't been kind to himself this last month. Gruesome shoot schedules and press conferences never giving him a single moment. Being surrounded by his co-workers clearly didn't give him any chance to squeeze in a good jerk off, or fuck. Cole had been very upset about that.
"Ngh.. fuck .. Cole .." his mind railed to his Jughead. The dirty sex they had. Unbound, unhinged, unrestrained. They had it in the bar's restroom. Dirty, stained with drunk men's piss, but they didn't mind. All they had to do was to slip from their manager's sight, and bang they went. His memories brought back the scene where he pushed his veiny, hairy cock up Cole's pink, eager hole. Every thrust he gave him, every dirty word he threw at him, every ..
"Nggh.. shit!" that he moaned.
He could feel the sensation run up his groin, to his hips and spine, when his 8 inches uncut cock finally spewed his wasted seed.
Six, seven, eight strings of cum shot directly at the trailer's door, making a banging sound everytime it hit thanks to the thickness of his juices. His body turned to jelly, soaking wet.
He looked at his dirty palm, stained by semen. He took it closer, sniffed it, and licked it. Savoring every drop of his salty, thick seminal fluid, before he tucked his dick in, covering his pubes in cum, and pulled his shorts up. Not even minding the ruined trailer's door, he closed his eyes, drifting to a satisfied sleep . . .
