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“By her fine foot, straight leg, and quivering thigh.”

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Nigel laid flat on his mattress, staring up blankly at the ceiling. Though his gaze seemed empty, his mind was racing. He couldn’t stop thinking — couldn’t stop thinking of her, that… that girl. Portia. She was the only thing on his mind, and it was driving him nuts. He had no idea what this feeling was, it was completely alien to him. He guessed it was love, but he had felt love before, and it was not like this at all. Was this lust, then? Nigel was clueless, all he knew for sure was that she had now thrown him for a loop. He was sure of how unsure he was, essentially. He was stuck there in his room, all alone, just thinking of that Puritan — a girl he couldn’t be with, as not only did her father not approve of the two of them being together, but even his own brother, Nick, thought that she was bad news.


But that wouldn’t stop him, and it surely wouldn’t stop… that…


He had patiently waited for no one else to be in the room. Nick and his wife Bea were out doing their own things, so that left him completely alone. Alone to think, alone to contemplate, alone to… take care of things.


Nigel sat up, now slouching as his arms rested in his lap. His face was flushed as he now stared down at himself. Through his baggy, high-waisted pants, he could easily make out the obvious erection he had. That girl had really stirred something within him, he thought, but she wasn’t there — she wasn’t there to see this, and she wasn’t there to potentially help him. He had no other choice than to take care of it himself.


He let out a sigh as he took off his boots, his hands then making their way over to remove his pants. As he pulled his pants down past his waist, his hard member bounced out from the fabric. Nigel nervously laughed to himself as he put the pants to the side, along with his boots. He now sat there in an awkward silence, unsure of what to do. “Do I just… right here? O-On the floor? There’s got to be a better place… but… I guess here’s okay… maybe. Yeah.” He mumbled to himself for a few more moments, grabbing his vest which he had already taken off earlier. He crumpled it up, messily folding it into a ball, setting it up against a wall to act as a sort of pillow. Now he had his mattress positioned adjacent to the wall as well, sitting atop it. The man leaned against his wall and discarded clothes, deciding to finally take off his shirt too, which he then also placed behind himself.


Nigel just sat there, fully naked, alone in his room. His glance shifted back down to his lap, where his member was only getting harder, somehow. He knew it wouldn’t go away unless he did something about it. He hesitantly brought his right hand to his length, lightly holding onto his member. “G-God… th-this… this won’t be easy, w-will it?”


The man sat up a little bit straighter, keeping his eyes locked on his lap. He couldn’t lose focus. He had to take care of this, now. He tightened his grip ever so slightly, feeling himself twitch in his hand. It felt… strange, different. Nigel slowly moved his hand up his length, and almost immediately let out a loud moan. He quickly brought his hand down, all the way down to the base of his shaft, resulting in another, equally as loud whine. “OoOohhHhhh m-my G-God…” He whimpered, his whole body leaning forward now. He had barely started, and it was already so much. How pent up was he, and for how long?


“I… I ca-can’t… b-but I ha-have to!…” He stammered. He kept himself leaning forward, but soon began to move his hand back up. “M-Maybe I sh-should… go sl-slower… yeah… th-that sh-should work…”


He slowly brought his hand up to the tip, then back down to the base. He repeated this cycle for a while, and although it felt nice, it seemingly was going nowhere. But Nigel didn’t want to give up so soon, and in frustration, he began to quicken his pace, which caused a sharp reaction out of him. “F-Fuck! I—… Th-That’s bet-better… I n-need to… need to go fa-faster…” His grip tightened, and he grit his teeth as he quickly moved his hand up and down his shaft. Without even thinking about it, her name managed to slip through his lips. 


“P-Portia… Portia pl-please… please, I-I need you… need you h-here!” All he could think about now was, once again, her, but now it was different. All he could see in his head now was that kind, Puritan girl in the place of his hand, looking up into his eyes with that gorgeous, pure smile. Nigel shut his eyes tightly, his head leaning back and against the wall as she kept flooding into his mind. That smile — that adorable little smile — that bubbly voice, those beautiful eyes, everything. It was all he could think about as his hand rapidly moved back and forth along his 8-inch length.


Nigel laid down, flat on his mattress once more, his right hand still going through the motions. His legs and left arm twitched and bounced as he let out more high-pitched whines. Her name kept coming out of his mouth, though he could now only blurt out fragmented, nearly nonsense sentences. He was alarmed when he felt his member suddenly twitch more and more, and before he knew it, he managed to cry out her name once again as he came. “P-P-Portia!” He yelled out, sending echoes throughout the otherwise empty house. He began to jitter uncontrollably, whimpering, panting, unable to contain himself. After a minute, he suddenly darted up, looking at the mess he had made. “O-Oh, oh no I— I have to-to clean th-this. I c-can’t have them see this, I… oh my God… oh my God I can’t believe I did that…


He quickly got himself together as best he could, cleaning his mess off of himself and putting his wrinkled-up pants and shirt back on. Once he had reorganized everything, he face-planted onto his mattress, still slightly jittery, still whimpering to himself a bit.


Nick and Bea soon arrived back home, Nick walking in to check on his brother. All he saw was an exhausted Nigel, face down on his bed.


He left him alone that night. As Nigel drifted off, he could still only think about her. Portia. That sweet Puritan girl.


How he wished to be with her.