Tired and Horny on the way home – Part 2

There is no polite way of saying this…my pussy is sore AF. When you’re in the midst of blood lust and you need to find your way through to the other side, you don’t tend to register pain as much. You do register toys however, which is great because I’ve a drawer full of them and I was, to be fair, in dire need. But ouch, I need a warm bath now. There’s no time for that though. I have a class to teach.

I heave myself out of bed and ignore the card from Nathaniel lying there on the bedside table. Another quick shower washes away my body’s liquid silk…there will be more in a while but I can’t do much about that. I’m trying to focus on work, I really am and not those eyes in the darkness begging me without words to…um,

Do stuff.

I arrive at the college after an uneventful journey on the Luas link. I enjoy my job, so the day passes quickly. I even have the energy to go for a swim afterwards at the gas works pool. The place is gorgeous. Restored to perfection. All the old brickwork arches kept. Milky green tiles on the walls. Soothing tones. The light is not too strong coming through the skylights. Either side of me, others enjoy the water, burning off the burdens of the day. I can feel their joy. We are fellow sybarites.

As I often do just before I leave, I roll onto my back and just gaze at the ceiling, letting the water cradle me. I wonder what is up there in this ancient old buildings rafters; beetles maybe, the ones with shiny black horns. They could be looking down at me, wondering about all that I am. A smile reaches my lips and I gently propel my body with a casual swish of my arms and legs.

Such heaven.

Fuuuck!

I’ve reached the other end and have bumped unceremoniously into another swimmer.

‘Sorry!’

‘For bumping into me or not giving me a call?’

I blink at the man, examining his slickened dark hair and realise immediately who he is. My peace is ruined. It’s Mr Mystery.

There are many things I want to say but someone that attractive can’t possibly be safe. The very devil often resides in beauty. So I hide out in my log cabin of silence.

Striking out wordlessly for the opposite side, I leave him behind. A split second after my fingers touch the tiled wall he bursts up from the shallow water like an adonis, having swam the entire length submerged.

Incredibly beautiful hands swipe the water from his face. They rearrange the small man bun at the top of his head and he grasps the handrail to exit the pool.

‘You really do need to learn some manners, you know,’ he says accusingly, as his exquisite feet ascend the antiquated steps.

He’s one to talk about manners! Staring. Stalking. Making demands. Hampering my breathing.

Hum. About that last one. I really do seem to struggle for air when he’s about. Surely my body should know that I need air after thirty eight years of existence?

‘Now you’re staring,’ he says.

Cheeky sod!

Of course I’m staring. He has an ass like a god and I haven’t had sex in far too long.

He swigs from a water bottle he has left on the side of the pool. His hotness overwhelms me to the point of breaking me down.

‘What is this exactly? I don’t know you. Yet you’re talking to me like I’m your maid. Are you always this arrogant?’

He looks amused. So hotly amused.

He examines his bottle and puts it to one side.

‘You have my number Miss Everdene. The rest is up to you.’

Then he saunters off.

I don’t know whether I’m annoyed or horny. I’m not sure I dare move because I feel on the edge of orgasm. I sense people watching. I can’t look up. The only thing left to me is to swim. And swim I do for almost another hour. Once I feel assured that he has probably gone, I leave.

I am boneless when I reach my little apartment. I flop onto the bed and sleep soundly for a little while. Hunger wakes me. Calories need replaced. Once the cycle is completed, I sort of feel on a high. Maybe it’s exercise induced. Maybe it’s hormones. Or stupidity? The memory of his woodsy cologne? Curiosity perhaps?

My fingers fly across the touchpad by some will of their own, bold and without remorse.

What do you want?

Sheba.

The response is swift.

Ah…she speaks. Finally. I would like you to do a portrait for me. A very large one.

Why me? You know nothing about me.

Oh to the contrary. I know you saw me. Saw me like nobody else has in those few seconds in the tunnel.

His words surprise me and move me no less than if he’d literally plunged his cock between my spread trembling legs.

I actually gasp.

This is so, so, so bad it’s good.

I’ll think about it and text you tomorrow.

Ok.

Oh and Sheba…? Don’t touch yourself too much tonight thinking about me. I want you starving hungry to cum when I get round to fucking you.

My mind recoils from his brash effrontery but my betraying cunt issues a hot wet response and all I can do is silence her with teasing fingers.

He really is a bastard.

Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/vziimy/tired_and_horny_on_the_way_home_part_2