#fridayfic No. 1
Her form next to him draws deep breaths, the shadowy room silent, a streetlight glow creeping round the blinds. His hand found his cock, warm and familiar, unfurling a little to meet his touch, resting it there, only daring to encircle it.
If he reached for his ipad he’d find girls to keep him company, teasing, spreading, pouting for his pleasure. His bookmarked stories would have him engorged in moments, genres he’d never tried but salivated to taste their flavours. Did he dare? Would the device’s glow disturb her? Would she hear the button, feel motion from swipes and keystrokes? He’d better not.
Memories couldn’t disturb her or betray him, wouldn’t leave a trail to disappoint her; they’d warm his blood. Stolen kisses outside school, first fumbles under a skirt, inside a blouse. Parties with spilt drink and absent parents, stolen moments in bedrooms, fingers found damp holes and budding breasts. Clothes shed, underwear his mum bought dragged down while inexperienced fingers pumped his cock, too gently, over too soon.
First car, freedom and speed, a sound system and generous back seat; his shag pad where he notched up conquests. Parking after hours to stroke and suck, lick and fuck, always the gentleman he kept a blanket and tissues to hand. Remember the feisty redhead! She blew him hard, opening the car door to spit out jizz. The shy girl, feral, who nipped and scratched, tiny breasts bobbing as she straddled him.
His cock was hard now! A collage of images of girlfriends past running through his mind supercharged him to a thick, throbbing mass, droplets of pre-cum gathered enthusiastically.
The nurse! She merited a twitch as he remembered knocking on her door, being pulled in and down to the kitchen floor, to take the place of a jelly-textured dildo. She’d been up for it, any time of the day, her shifts messed with her body clock while her dirty mind kept him stimulated all the time. What a fuck toy she’d been! What broke them up? He struggled to remember, while he stroked and pressed his hard member, silently but insistently.
Beside him she stirred, turning onto her side, affording him a view of deep, ripe cleavage and creamy skin. Fist around his cock, he reviewed their early years together, stolen moments led to sexual adventures: tumbles in the dunes almost hidden by harsh grass, fumbles in a pub bathroom she gripped the sink, bending over for him.
A half cry sounds over the baby monitor, the lights registering green zone not red. His hand stilled, hoping his son won’t wake for a feed. They are both tired, in deficit of undisturbed sleep, yet he sensed his wife alert to their child despite remaining inert beside him. The cry came to nothing, part of an infant dream, her breathing beside him relaxed. His arousal had gone, climax abated by the pull of parenting responsibilities. He turned over, closing his eyes in search of dreamless sleep.