tamsy who watches you play with your clit every night, peering through the cut-outs he left in the wall of your bedroom. he watches you circle and circle the swollen bud, your fingers hopelessly, desperately seeking relief. his cock strains, aching for release, but he never, never gives in, not until you're nearing your peak, not until you're shuddering and humping your hand like a dog -
"tamsy," you breathe out, voice catching. "oh god tamsy please --"
you always cum before you tell him what you need.
so he keeps teasing you during the day, flirting gently, the blood pooling in your cheeks proof of his success.
only he can soothe the ache between your thighs. he wants you to know this as intimately as your own breath. only he knows how to unwind you like a spool of spread.
but until then, he's content to wait. content to watch you from his dim hiding place, fist around his cock while you drool into your pillow, sobbing out his name.
you'll be experiencing the real thing soon enough.