same time June lets out a long, enthralled moan.
I want her to clean up this mess with her tongue and then create a brand new one with me in its place.
Once I've calmed back down, I divert my attention to the only woman I've ever met who captures my attention in such a unique way.
It's hard to describe what it is about her. It could be that underneath the tightly wound fumbling exterior, is a creature with more passion and desire than I've ever known to exist. No, I haven't seen it, in full, but I know it's there. I can see behind those brown eyes that are terrified to relinquish control. That are so used to admiring life from a far they're not sure they can survive actually living in it. Maybe Fate knew I would recognize the look since I see it often in the mirror. I wanna be the one to break those chains for her. Show her how to color outside those lines before I leave this city again. Maybe she'll show me something I need to see too.
“Y-y-you should get dressed,” June politely states, taking a step back from the couch. “We don't wanna be late to dinner.”
I grumble my disapproval. “Maybe you don't. Frankly, I don't wanna go at all.” After cleaning up the mess with tissue, I toss them into the trash, pull up my shorts and sigh, “It's the reason I was masturbating in the first place.”
Confusion covers her face. “The idea of dinner with your family makes you horny? That's bizarre.”
Don't agree with her. That's not it.
Seeing her ready to back track to think of a classier way to call me crazy, I cut off her chance. “No. The idea of dinner with my family frustrates me. When I'm frustrated, I need endorphins to counter it. Creating something works equally as well as jerking off.”
The expression stays. “Creating art gets you off?”
“No, but both activities produce a natural high for me. The only thing I enjoy as much as art is sex. Both allow me to get lost in them. Devote myself to expressing what words often can't.”
“So when you masturbate-”
“I create a sexual scenario in which I surrender completely to.”
Her eyes fill with heat that rises my dick against my shorts. “Wh-What...what was the scenario you were playing out this time?”
I offer her a crooked smile and a wink before turning around to head for the bedroom. “I'm gonna rinse off and change. It'll only take a few minutes.”
“I'll just...um..wait here then,” she rushes to say. Just moments after I close the door there's a small thud and faint, “Ou...”
I chuckle quietly to myself.
Believe it or not, I find her lack of grace kinda sweet. It's like watching a kid who has finger painted all his life try to use a fine brush. The determination is endearing. I won't mind letting my paintbrush be in June's hands as soon as she lets me. I just find myself praying it's sooner rather than later. Not sure how much more masturbating to thoughts of her I can handle. It's bad enough she's the muse for all the artwork I create to pass our time apart. I'm not used to being this engulfed by another being and I'm not certain even sexually connecting will help it pass. Makes me wonder what will....
**
Anxiety begins to broil in the pit of my stomach as the mansion I actively avoid begins to come into view. Between the lush lawn décor shaped to resemble zoo animals and the fountain big enough to easily be mistaken for a pool, a familiar sadness seeps throughout me to join the other feeling of discomfort.
The tree shaped animals were my dad's definition of art. He liked to go out when they were being maintained and convince the gardeners to show him how to cut the new growth as well as how to trim one to resemble an actual object. Used to drive my mother crazy to have strange shapes all around the yard, but she never had them fixed because she knew how proud he was to be helping take care of her. Of their home. Of their family. That's the type
I want her to clean up this mess with her tongue and then create a brand new one with me in its place.
Once I've calmed back down, I divert my attention to the only woman I've ever met who captures my attention in such a unique way.
It's hard to describe what it is about her. It could be that underneath the tightly wound fumbling exterior, is a creature with more passion and desire than I've ever known to exist. No, I haven't seen it, in full, but I know it's there. I can see behind those brown eyes that are terrified to relinquish control. That are so used to admiring life from a far they're not sure they can survive actually living in it. Maybe Fate knew I would recognize the look since I see it often in the mirror. I wanna be the one to break those chains for her. Show her how to color outside those lines before I leave this city again. Maybe she'll show me something I need to see too.
“Y-y-you should get dressed,” June politely states, taking a step back from the couch. “We don't wanna be late to dinner.”
I grumble my disapproval. “Maybe you don't. Frankly, I don't wanna go at all.” After cleaning up the mess with tissue, I toss them into the trash, pull up my shorts and sigh, “It's the reason I was masturbating in the first place.”
Confusion covers her face. “The idea of dinner with your family makes you horny? That's bizarre.”
Don't agree with her. That's not it.
Seeing her ready to back track to think of a classier way to call me crazy, I cut off her chance. “No. The idea of dinner with my family frustrates me. When I'm frustrated, I need endorphins to counter it. Creating something works equally as well as jerking off.”
The expression stays. “Creating art gets you off?”
“No, but both activities produce a natural high for me. The only thing I enjoy as much as art is sex. Both allow me to get lost in them. Devote myself to expressing what words often can't.”
“So when you masturbate-”
“I create a sexual scenario in which I surrender completely to.”
Her eyes fill with heat that rises my dick against my shorts. “Wh-What...what was the scenario you were playing out this time?”
I offer her a crooked smile and a wink before turning around to head for the bedroom. “I'm gonna rinse off and change. It'll only take a few minutes.”
“I'll just...um..wait here then,” she rushes to say. Just moments after I close the door there's a small thud and faint, “Ou...”
I chuckle quietly to myself.
Believe it or not, I find her lack of grace kinda sweet. It's like watching a kid who has finger painted all his life try to use a fine brush. The determination is endearing. I won't mind letting my paintbrush be in June's hands as soon as she lets me. I just find myself praying it's sooner rather than later. Not sure how much more masturbating to thoughts of her I can handle. It's bad enough she's the muse for all the artwork I create to pass our time apart. I'm not used to being this engulfed by another being and I'm not certain even sexually connecting will help it pass. Makes me wonder what will....
**
Anxiety begins to broil in the pit of my stomach as the mansion I actively avoid begins to come into view. Between the lush lawn décor shaped to resemble zoo animals and the fountain big enough to easily be mistaken for a pool, a familiar sadness seeps throughout me to join the other feeling of discomfort.
The tree shaped animals were my dad's definition of art. He liked to go out when they were being maintained and convince the gardeners to show him how to cut the new growth as well as how to trim one to resemble an actual object. Used to drive my mother crazy to have strange shapes all around the yard, but she never had them fixed because she knew how proud he was to be helping take care of her. Of their home. Of their family. That's the type
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