Still soaked from the workout, shirt stuck to me, sweat dripping down my abs. The heat had me dizzy, heart racing… but it wasn’t just the reps. I couldn’t help it—reached into my shorts, still breathing heavy, hand sliding over skin already slick and begging for more.

Each stroke was slow, teasing… just enough to make me groan, not enough to tip me over. Muscles flexing, veins pumped, body on fire—and I stopped. Didn’t let myself finish. Not yet.

Now I’m sat here leaking, throbbing, waiting.

You coming to take over… or should I keep edging ‘til I break?