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    Summary

    Shane needed it badly, even if it was barely 4:00 PM. It was summer; he was alone at the cottage. He was allowed. He repeated it like a mantra until he almost believed it.
    He was lying on his back, legs spread, his lubed fingers leaving his erect cock for a moment to push lower just as his phone buzzed.
    Shane would usually ignore it, but when he saw the name Lily, his hand moved on instinct.
    The moment the photo loaded, he swore.
    Lily: So you don´t miss me too much.
    Shane had been trying to masturbate to people who weren't Rozanov for years. Every time he thought he’d succeeded, his brain betrayed him. Now, it was as if Rozanov could sense the exact moment Shane was about to put his fingers in his asshole or tried to masturbate.

    Language:
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