A Private island, soon enough.

Taking what was heard a second ago with a grain of salt. Michael moves on... standing in front of the mirror naked still steaming hot, post-shower. He looks at his little dainty self. Displeased with how he looks. His shorter than preferred height and below average cock glistening in the mirror. How come there’s gotta be a “standard” for women. That check-list the guy as to meet, or there not up to par? I guess it works both ways, but why do I have to be one of those that don’t reach the mark! Overall I’m very disappointed and aroused... and my parents for making such a child that is me! He thought to himself.

“Wish women loved me for me.” Michael mumbles aloud in his lonely room.

Sexually frustrated Michael wraps one hand around his flaccid cock, hiding it’s entirety within. Slowly stroking it to life, while looking it dead in the mirror. It’s bulbous head presses to pass his fingers, till maxing out centimeter’s away from frontal finger. His thumb easily gripped around onto his fingers. At full mast he began to lean his head back, gradually closing his eyes as he builds into a rhythm. Michael casually starts his routine masturbation section/syndrome. RMS for short. Like an actual diagnoses, he confirms the inevitable after a few long minutes.

Usually there are some sounds that come along with the inevitable, but masturbation for this guy has lost a lot of enthusiasm. Trying his absolute best not to cum anyway. Michael, tries and eventually would fail, awkwardly rushing to his personal bathroom. Leaning over the toilet bowl, his eyes come to rest at his phone on the counter beside him. Where his source of arousal came from in the first place. A picture of a nude model exposing herself in some artistic way. Her brunette hair was cascading erotically offer her face and chest. Though she carried the look of innocences with her angelic face and petite figure.

Frantically switching hands in order pick up his cellular device. Using the picture for visual stimuli. Michael prepares to burst his hot white cream into the toilet.

Again he began to mumble “Wish this girl, Ariel, was here to help. ” Unprepared for what’s to happen next. As if by magic, the same girl on his phone appeared behind him. Unknowingly he continues to pump his meat.

Ariel now was standing in his tub between open windows. Pondering silently at her new sights. Tilting her adorable head, she examines Michael from behind. Confused, yet very enthused as to how she got here.