Indecisive about leaving, I indulge in self-pleasure, caressing my throbbing member rhythmically. The anticipation of potential interruption intensifies my pleasure, making me crave release even more.

In the heat of the moment, I was on the verge of stepping out when I decided to indulge in a quick self-pleasure session. My hand found its way to my throbbing manhood, and I began to stroke it with a fervor that only the anticipation of leaving could fuel. As I continued my strokes, I found myself lost in the sensation, my mind consumed by the thought of being caught in the act. The thrill of the forbidden added an extra layer of excitement to my solo play, making every stroke feel more intense than the last. My breath hitched as I neared the edge, my body tensing in anticipation of the release. And when it finally came, it was like nothing else mattered, just the pleasure coursing through my veins, leaving me spent and satisfied.