Dublin Trip

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I recently went on a business trip to Dublin where I stayed for one night in a hotel. I knew about this trip three weeks in advance and was excited about it, not least because it would mean a perfect opportunity to indulge myself in some unrestricted wanking, without any danger of being disturbed by kids or wife. I decided to starve myself of all sexual activity for the entire three weeks leading up to the trip. I knew it would be difficult for someone who is used to jacking off at least once a day to manage complete abstinence for such a long period of time, but I knew that the prize would be a simply earth-shattering orgasm when I finally gave way to my desires in the privacy of that hotel room. As anyone who has experience of this will know, just a few days without cumming can be a prelude to a huge orgasm, where the fireworks go off, the room spins and the amount of spunk that is generated is massively increased. If I could manage it, three weeks of this torture would be well worth it.

It wasn’t easy, I can tell you. As I say, I am used to doing it every day, so I had to find other ways of occupying myself in the mornings, when I usually switch the computer on before anyone else gets up. I had to close my eyes to the sexy sights around me — girls with big tits and curvy arses in tight trousers — the sights that normally get me aroused. The days and weeks went by so slowly and, more than once, I nearly gave up on this unhealthy, monk-like existence. But I am nothing if not determined and, as the day of my departure approached, I could congratulate myself on remaining 100% intact. My balls ached with the load that had built up inside them and I wasn’t very pleasant to live with — tetchy and irritable is an understatement! But I was nearly there and my goal was in sight.

On the day before my departure, I made my final preparations. I went out to a local chemist and bought a small bottle of baby oil, then visited a nearby newsagent where I raided the top shelf for several porn magazines. Most hotels these days have porn channels on the TV, but I wasn’t leaving anything to chance. I made sure the magazines were wrapped-up well in brown paper and threw the package into the boot of my car. I didn’t want to make the mistake of getting aroused too soon! I was already well turned-on by the prospect bursa escort of what was to come, but still managing — somehow — to keep myself under control. It would be no exaggeration to say it was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do.

There was nearly a very messy accident as I parked my car at the airport car park. Just in front of me was a very attractive and nicely bronzed young blonde girl who had clearly just returned from a couple of weeks in the sun. She was busy stowing her luggage and various Duty-Free bags in the boot of her Vauxhall Frontera. This girl was very attractive as I have said and was wearing an incredibly short skirt. As she leaned forward to push her bags to the front of the Frontera’s boot, the skirt rode up and I was presented with the glorious sight of her sun-tanned arse, hardly covered by the tiny g-string she was wearing. I got an immediate hard-on and my weeks of self-control were nearly in vain as I feared I would cum in my pants. As she stretched further into the car and parted her legs to brace herself, I saw the string of her panties disappear between her pussy lips. Fortunately, this ‘trouser-straining’ (and very nearly ‘trouser staining‘) view was only fleeting and the girl soon drove off. However, I was in a terrible state and felt my self-control crumbling as my aching balls took over and led me straight to the gent’s toilet in the departures hall. I quickly unzipped my trousers and blessed relief was only going to be a matter of seconds away. But my plans were saved, though, by the insistent tannoy that was making a last call for passengers on the Dublin flight. Yes, I had misjudged my arrival time at the airport and was late for my flight. In terms of my wanking plans, this was very good news indeed! I swallowed hard, pulled myself together, zipped up my trousers and literally sprinted to the check-in desks!

The rest of my journey passed without incident, although the bus ride from the airport to the hotel did seem to take an unearthly long time, mainly due to the Dublin rush-hour traffic. But before too long I was checking-in at the hotel reception desk and making an awful mess of doing so, such was the uncontrollable tremble in my hand as I tried to write my details on the check-in form. It didn’t help that the receptionist was bursa escort bayan also very attractive and had the top two buttons of her blouse undone, so that her impressive cleavage was on display. There wasn’t a specific problem, but she seemed to take what felt like years to get my room key. By now, I was in very real and very serious danger of cumming in my pants. Finally, she gave me the key and, with a knowing smile, wished me a pleasant stay. Perhaps she had a reasonable suspicion about what unaccompanied males might or might not get up to in the hotel’s rooms…….!

I waited for the lift, which again seemed to take an inordinately long time to arrive and, when it reached my floor, I hurried along the corridor to find the door of my room, which fortunately wasn’t too far from the lifts. When I finally managed to get the key to work, I pushed open the door and practically dived into the room. My stomach was churning with excitement and every nerve in my body was screaming at me to get straight onto the bed and wank myself to oblivion without a moment’s delay. But I decided to keep the control and prolong the self-torture a little more. I could visualise an extra few ml of spunk being added to the massive load in my balls as I carefully unpacked my suitcase, hanging clothes in the wardrobe and putting toiletries in the bathroom. I threw the pack of magazines onto the bed, along with the bottle of oil and fetched a spare toilet roll from the bathroom. I was ready for action…….!

Since this was going to be (hopefully) a prolonged and intensive masturbation session, rather than a quick, furtive ‘one off the wrist’, I undressed fully. It seemed the porn channel on the TV wouldn’t be available until later that evening, so I unpacked the magazines and selected one of the more hard-core ones. My cock was already half hard and, glancing at my profile in the mirror, I could see it starting to swell and rise. My balls felt like they were made of lead and, gently squeezing them, I marvelled at how full and heavy they were. This was going to be worth the wait and the weeks of frustration…!

I lay back on the bed and, with the magazine in my left hand, started to slowly ease my foreskin backwards and forwards with my right. Not actually stroking the shaft, just teasing the head of my cock in escort bursa a kind of foreplay. I was very turned-on and I wondered how long I would be able to last. Before too long, the head of my cock was coated with a white sheen of pre-cum. I was as big and as hard as I have ever been and I could feel my balls throbbing. It was time to put the magazine to one side and get down to some serious wanking….

I reached over for the bottle of baby oil and anointed the head of my cock with copious quantities of oil, letting it run down the shaft and into my pubic hair. I wrapped my right hand around my well-lubricated shaft and started to stroke it properly, with long, leisurely strokes, slowly to start with, but gradually building up speed. I cupped my balls in my left hand and rhythmically squeezed them

I became oblivious to everything else around me and focussed 100% on pleasuring myself. I could see myself in the dressing-table mirror opposite — my hand was just a blur as the pace of my strokes got faster and faster. I could feel the cum rising in my balls so I slowed down as I tried to fight the inevitable orgasm that was approaching.

Years of masturbation experience have made me adept at edging and holding back my orgasm for anything up to two hours, repeatedly taking myself to the very brink, then backing off… again and again and again! My hand was barely moving as I took myself up to the point of orgasm over and over. The pre-cum was flowing like a river and my head was thrown back on the pillow, eyes closed, moaning softly. I suppose I must have edged for about forty minutes before I could take no more of this painful pleasure. My head was full of a kaleidoscope of erotic images but it was the recent memory of the girl at the airport that finally did it for me. A vision of that arse appeared before my eyes and, finally, I tipped myself over the edge. All it took was one extra stroke and I was there. “OH, OH, OH, OH, GOD!!!” The whole room seemed to explode around me as my orgasm hit. Not being in a position to even care if the whole hotel heard me, I screamed out loud in a combination of agony and ecstasy as what seemed like gallons of spunk erupted from me. The first (and biggest) jet hit me full in the face and spurt followed spurt, onto my chest, my stomach, the bed, everywhere! I continued to moan throughout my prolonged orgasm and carried on stroking until the torrent slowed to a trickle and finally stopped. I lay there with my eyes closed, head still spinning, as I came down from the incredible high of my orgasm.

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