Page 43 of Play Room Actor

“Oh fuck,” he gasped, his body tensing. “I’m about to come.”

My cock strained against my pants, eager for release, but I couldn’t bring myself to touch it. The fear of deflating all the built-up tension with a single stroke was overwhelming. So I focused all my attention on Kilian.

He was jerking himself off hard now, thrusting his hips in a steady rhythm. His breaths came in short, uneven gasps as his free hand roamed aimlessly—through his hair, down his neck, and over his throat. Then he threw his head back and let go completely.

“Oh yes … Shit!”

Thick spurts of cum shot out of him, his body swept away by the force of his orgasm. His muscles tensed and then gradually released, leaving him in a state of perfect relaxation. As tension left his flawless body, Kilian exhaled with relief.

His breathing was heavy as he allowed himself a moment to bask in the afterglow, eyes closed, savoring the sensation. His chest still rose and fell steadily when he finally opened his eyes, his gaze locking on me with a satisfied smile.

At that moment, the intense pulling sensation in my lower abdomen took over, overwhelming me with a wave of shame that I had experienced far too often over the past few months. I dashed to the bathroom as panic surged through me. My whole body felt like it was on fire, as if lava was slowly coursing through my veins. Bracing myself against the sink with both hands, I stared at the bulge in my pants, which was already shrinking.

How was it that I could date Clarissa and observe my utter failure with detached coolness, yet after what had just happened with Kilian, I wanted to sink into the ground? And this, despite the fact that something had actually stirred in my pants. For the first time in so long!

I wanted to scream, but knowing Kilian was just nearby tightened my throat.

Why was a semi-hard erection that I couldn’t maintain—something I’d grown used to over weeks—so much worse than a limp noodle that wouldn’t harden even after hours of coaxing?

I turned on the sink and splashed my face with cold water. I was incredibly aroused, and yet I couldn’t climax. It was maddening. Again and again, I doused my burning face, washing away a few tears, when I heard a hesitant knock at the door.

“Hey,” Kilian’s gentle voice came through. “I’m sorry if I went too far. I thought … No, I don’t know what I was thinking …”

I dried my face on a towel and glimpsed at myself in the mirror again. In moments like this, I didn’t like what I saw. Lust and desire battled with my reason and the knowledge that it was all pointless. The back-and-forth in my head made me dizzy, and I cursed myself for not recognizing the situation earlier and walking away.

“Dominic? Please,” Kilian begged from the other side of the door.

The worst part wasn’t feeling like a failure because I couldn’t keep it up—it was feeling like an addict, tempted to reach out to one of my old contacts to get something that might help me hold an erection. I quickly shoved that thought aside and rubbed my cheeks. I needed to distract myself, even if that meant facing Kilian. So I opened the door.

Kilian was leaning against the doorframe and glanced up as I appeared. He was dressed, wearing a black T-shirt and boxers, and he seemed genuinely concerned as he offered a shy smile.

“Will you forgive me?” he asked.

“What are you talking about?” I creased my forehead, confused. “I …” But I couldn’t find the words to explain that he wasn’t at fault at all. Besides, it wasn’t even about breaking my resolution again—somehow … by doing nothing.

Kilian reached out and brushed his thumb across my cheek. I froze. Had he seen my tears?

“You ruined my orgasm,” he said, his tone gentle. “I can’t enjoy it when you look at me like someone’s ripping your heart out at the moment I finish.”

“I wasn’t looking at you like that …”

Kilian stepped closer and silenced me with a kiss. The tension drained from my muscles, and the dizziness faded.

“Come on, I’ll make us some coffee. And if not dicks … do you at least like eggs?”

With just those few words, he had me laughing again. “You’re impossible,” I said, following him to the kitchen.

“Sit.” He pointed to the dining table before opening the fridge. “How about an omelet? I’ve got bread, too.”

“You don’t have to go through the trouble.”

“It’s no trouble.”

As he bustled around the kitchen, bringing me a coffee and making an omelet, I flipped through a book about architecture and enjoyed the view of the forest through the window.

“Aren’t there pills for something like this?” Kilian asked as we ate together. “I mean, I saw your desire. You were really turned on.”

With a sigh, I remembered one of my first doctors prescribing me blue pills after my withdrawal. But I couldn’t handle them. Deep down, I knew the problem went beyond a quick fix and wouldn’t be solved with a little pill.