This was written for a DIY (Do it Yourself) writing contest. 

In my own Hands

My hand isn’t as big as yours, wrapped around my cock.

My hand isn’t as tight as yours either, my fingers aren’t as strong, they're not as tight, they don’t move as quickly.

We used to do it like this, in the shower, hot water raining down over your muscles and collecting in rivulets to stream down your tall, tanned body. I can picture you in my mind’s eye, half-smiling at me through the steam, swaggering closer, tightening your fingers around me until I groan. I remember those sounds that you made. I remember you breathing in my ear while I was moaning your name… oh fuck yes, I’d say, fuck that feels so good… so fucking good.

But this time, I am alone. I duck my head under the hot water. I have the nozzle set to massage so that it beats loudly and heavily down on my neck and back, turning my skin pink, forcing my shoulders to relax.

My hand doesn’t come with your lovely, large body to press to mine, or your musky scent filling my nostrils. My hand doesn’t move like yours or stroke like yours. My hand doesn't control me like yours did.

I stroke myself evenly, squeezing a little tighter now, and I feel my stiff cock twitch in my fingers. My need is building, it's my favorite part. I groan. I brace a hand on the cold, tiled wall and my eyes close of their own accord. I lick my lips and babble a litany of praise to my secret, inner lover, the one that knows what I need instinctively, without my having to ask, or beg, or direct.

Yes!

A strong exhale is forced from me and then my breath grows shallow. I turn to face the onslaught of hot water.

Yes! Oh god please, yes…

Fuck, it feels perfect. A relentless spiral of heat works its way from my fingers to my belly and back, making me ache for it. My body begs for it, too, reacting instinctively. I spread my legs wider, clench my ass, tilt my hips forward. I groan loudly.

Do it! Faster… harder… YES!

I stroke my cock as only a man can do for himself; just exactly the right speed, just exactly the right angle, just exactly tight enough. I start to thrust forward into my fingers and I lean my head back so the water beats soundly on my chest, pounds on my nipples, runs over my stiff abs, drenches my straining cock.

Uh! Uhhnnn…

I’m moaning, I’m panting. My eyes close slowly. My brow furrows.

Yesyesyesohfuckinghellyes!

My hips slam into my fist and I can barely breathe. My eyes pop open and rivet on my fingers as they take me steadily, skillfully toward completion. I want to come now.

Oh fuck yes, please, let me come. I beg of my favorite lover.

No, my own hand isn’t at all like yours. Oh, no. My hand is infinitely better.