“Get dressed, get armed, we’re leaving.” The man with the heavy Londoner accent said as he barged into the quaint little flat, his light brown eyes focusing on everything in the room like a microscope gazing at a specimen.
Sinister night crept into the room’s open blinds; a piercing black that seemed to come alive with all the nite-owls and day-absent freaks. Warm and cozy in his queen-sized pillow-top bed, sleep still clinging to him, he rolled over slightly and smiled, then rolled back over. He felt the endearing loose embrace of his lover, his woman from behind. She stirred for only a second when he turned then he felt her cheek rest lightly on his shoulder, her sweet breath tickling his ear and back of his neck every so often.
Edin stopped at the bar, patting the solid oak top in a slow beat to draw the attention of her new friend. And from the back he appeared, a slow smile lining his tan face.
The dark seemed to cloak her body, amber beacons tethered on candlesticks fought back the ubiquitous obscurity. She lay on the mercurial silk sheets, writhing face down as carnal hunger ravaged her. Curtains of satiny brunette hair fell over piercing green eyes as she nibbled the tip of her thumb, ripe fruits that were lips pouted and rolled over the poor substitute her digit posed.
I sat down in one of those plush, velvet-seated chairs my brother was so very fond of. My eyes drank in the sights of regal hospitality as I relaxed and waited for my brother to arrive. Time seemed to crawl by at a snail’s pace, and so, I began to sing a song that had been stuck in my head for quite some time:
The calming snowstorm pressed its wintry paws against the glass, steam formed to greet it, fogging the windowpane. It was a peculiar night, thunder rumbled off in the distance, whilst snowflakes serenely fell, the silent precipitation made the night ever more intimate. Marek planted himself in front of the computer, another night in the cold where darkness, loneliness, and ennui were his only company. The white glow of his monitor illuminated his chiseled features: a strong jaw, aquiline nose, heavily lidded hazel eyes that gazed tiredly at the menagerie of carnal images on display. He huffed out a sigh, swallowing hard as he faced another night anxious and sexually frustrated, looking for internet porn that hardly satisfied him. He navigated the amateur acts of everyday people, watched their most intimate, their most primal acts... and felt nothing. No stir in his loins, no heat, no sudden urge to reach into the front flap of his boxer briefs and retrieve the waiting flesh for satiation; he felt that maybe he had come to the point where he just didn't want to be satisfied by watching anymore. Disgusted, Marek closed the tab for www.hardsextube.com, knowing he would go to bed. He had the urge but not the stimulation.