Impotent

He closed the door behind him and dropped to his knees. Unizipping himself, he frantically pulled out his limp member and began to rub it aggressively. Scenes from the evening ran through his head. The red-headed stripper's rouged nipples presenting themselves to him on top of her bustier. The petite blonde woman grinding herself to completion on the black woman's thigh while the black woman thumbed and rolled her long, ebony nipples. He whimpered and fell to the ground, rubbing himself mercilessly on the rough carpeting. He could imagine himself humping the fish-netted leg of the black woman; the individual threads of the stocking kneading his dick. He reached down and felt himself. He was as soft as when he had started. A frustrated groan broke from his lips, and he humped the ground ever more frantically, whining and grunting in his futile efforts. He saw himself guiding the blonde's head to one ebony nipple and then his own mouth covering the other, suckling the black woman together. She came with a loud cry of ecstasy. He slipped his fingers down between the blonde's mound and the black woman's thigh just as the blonde sighed contentedly and squirted stickiness onto his fingers. He remembered the blonde and black looking at him expectantly.

"Fuck," he cried on the floor of his room, where he was still desperately humping the carpet, his penis burning from its pathetic grinding over the harsh carpet. He stood up, penis hanging as limp as it had been upon entering the room, and walked to his bed. Laying down on his back, he avoided looking at his failure and instead stared at the ceiling as his hips involuntarily rocked back and forth, pelvis thrusting into the air and limp penis flopping about between his legs. He couldn't bear the frustration of touching it, so instead of taking himself in hand, he touched his right nipple. He gasped and let out an "ughhhhh" as the sensation rippled through him. Mimicking the black woman, hoping perhaps he could achieve pleasure as she had, he began rolling his nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. "Oh, God," he cried, not even hearing himself in the face of the sensations he had thought lost to him. His groin began to tingle angrily, and he looked down. His limp penis jiggled impotently in the vee of his frantically thrusting hips. "Fuck," he screamed, pinching his nipples and pulling them hard away from his body. "Fuck me," he whispered. Tears of rage streamed down his face as he reached into the bedside table. Fixing his eyes on the ceiling, he turned the vibrator to the highest setting and pushed it hard to right above the spot where his penis attached to his body. One minute turned into two, then five, then ten. He felt a slight tingling and looked down. His dick lay flaccid against his left thigh, tip glistening as it leaked copious amounts of precum. He began to press the vibrator into the base of his penis rhythmically, fucking his own dick. He grunted with the effort of his monumentous endeavour. It was only when his groin became numb from the intense vibration that he gave up on his pathetic penis.

Dropping the vibrator to the bed, he pulled out a bottle of lube and slicked his hand. Reaching down with his right hand so as to avoid his penis, lying uselessly on his right thigh, he reached behind his balls and gently pushed on his perineum. He let out a deep groan of relief. He gently massaged that area, making wider and wider circles until he brushed against the crinkled rosebud of his anus. It was so sensitive that he couldn't help the breathy exhalation that escaped when he touched it. It contracted involuntarily beneath his slick fingers several times; it was so sensitive that it was a minute before he could touch it directly again. The noises he made when he began to rub his fingers over his rear entrance were obscene. His hips had begun to thrust into the air again, and his limp penis jiggled its way back and forth across his thighs, sticky strands of precum leaking with every thrust. He quickly pierced himself with one finger, then two, then three, too impatient and desperate to enjoy the preparations. Then he grabbed the still-buzzing vibrator and thrust it into himself. Pushing it all the way in, he held it directly on his prostate and panted, hips bucking under the unbearable stimulation. Precum was flying all over his pelvis in thick, clear, sticky strands. The rest of his body glistened with sweat, and well-defined muscles fasciculated uncontrollably in response to the overwhelming stimulation of his most sensitive nerve bundle. He flipped over, keeping the vibrator jammed deep inside his rectum, and ground himself hard on his bedspread. Other than creating a small wet spot, this did not achieve anything. He couldn't even thrust like a man who could get hard; his limp penis just got stuck among the covers and he sort of undulated his hips in a circular motion to try to stimulate his dead organ. He lay there for what felt like an eternity, futilely trying to masturbate himself. Finally, he collapsed onto the bed in defeat. The vibrator, which he had let go of upon his collapse, slowly extruded from his rectum and eventually fell onto his impotent penis and lay there, vibrating for several minutes until he roused himself.

Moving into a squatting position, he carefully inserted a finger into his ass and felt for his prostate. He began to massage the organ deliberately. The clear, sticky strands of precum changed to a thick white substance; it couldn't be called ejaculate because he could not even ejaculate. He milked himself for several minutes until nothing more emerged from his limp member. Then he got off the bed, put on his discarded pants, and headed downstairs to cook himself dinner.