Tired

Coming home like this, I was exhausted. I worked at the little Cafe down the road from my apartment and by the time nine o'clock rolled around, I was ready to be at home.

After entering and hanging up my key on the hook; I shrugged off my denim jacket and balanced each boot on the chair by the door to unlace them. Once those were off, came the socks and I left everything there on the floor, not feeling like cleaning up that mess right now. I starved for a shower, to be clean, and collected for my day off tomorrow. Leading myself down the dark hallway, I flicked on the light in the bathroom, giving myself a good look in the mirror, lifting a hand to run it through the black locks of hair that hung loosely over my eyes, which sported a pale green.

I started with the removal of accessories that laced my fingers, long but tattooed all the way to the bone. After that came my shirt, pulling it off with one hand, revealing the rest of my ink to the figure in the mirror. Hard muscles stretched across my stomach, arms, and shoulders which were wide, sturdy, and broad. I focused on the heat of the water, turning the knob a couple of times until it was just hot enough for me. Hot enough to burn my skin when it touched. Leaving the chain around my neck on, I loosened my belt and next came to the buttons, popping each open, and slowly I slid my pants down.

I hated them. So tight and loose enough. I could never figure out why they made us wear them there at the Little Inn, Cafe. They could have come up with something better, and more appropriate for their people to wear. I debated kicking them to the side, but knowing I couldn't leave them ruined or risk getting them wet, I hung them up on the towel rack nearby; belt and all.

Finally came my briefs, black, like most of my clothing, and once discarded, I stepped into the shower, my head ducking underneath the faucet head, letting the water pour right over me, spraying down onto my back and dripping between the crevices of my ass cheeks, which felt oddly good, too good to be soaked at every angle, letting the water swallow me whole.

I knew what would happen when hot water touched me, it always got me so riled up, and sure enough, looking down as the water dripped beads from the ends of my hair, I saw my member becoming erect, inch by inch. I shut my eyes, tilting my head, not a fear in the world, knowing I could just relax and let it all fall off of me and if I wanted to fix it, I could, and at this rate, I would.

I licked my lips, water falling from my nose, looking down again as I braced both hands on the wall, the veins in both, trailing down my forearms barely popping out. Allowing my mind to wander, wander back to you. Thinking of our first time, thinking about how guilty I am for missing you and it only causes my cock to grow harder, bigger, making it throb from the single thought of your body on top of mine.

"Fuck," I audibly cursed, my voice deep, almost a hint of gravel, and whisper, "Why are you making me think those kinda things, right now?" humming with praise regardless when I stood back from the wall, suddenly shutting the water off and standing there for a moment to again, check myself out, figuring maybe it would just go away but no, I was ready to go.

I reached out for the closest towel, drying my hair and leaving it messy on my head when I went straight to my room, not being far, I entered, carrying my damned erection with me. It was beginning to hurt and I felt like maybe it was just the stress from the week messin' with me. I needed a release, but the only thing on my mind was you. How you felt on me, how tight your insides were.

I furrowed my brows, pissed off at myself, "Doesn't love you anymore, stupid," I muttered, sitting on my bed and lying back, long legs stretching out and not giving a shit whether or not I got my sheets wet. I needed to calm down.

It would be wrong to think of you like that, to disrespect you in such a manner. It was never you, just me, just me and my mistakes, my own stupidity. But no, I kept trying to prove I changed, prove I'd be better. That's why I got this stupid job, this stupid apartment, my stupid car which I loved more than life itself, to prove myself a man based on society.

I exhaled, running a hand through my damp hair, staring up at the ceiling with despair, my other hand drifting and my heart pounding at the very thought of your pussy on me again, it was bad. Fuck, I missed you. I missed your laugh, the way you yelled at me, the way you got jealous and damn, your moans, those little whimpers, and whines when I held you down and fucked you senseless.

Finally touching myself, I curled my fingers around my length, my hips almost bucking with need, lifting off the bed to thrust into my hand and I tilted my head back, hair covering my eyes again and I released a bitter groan, my own moans filling the room when I stroked along my base, the piercings of my cock only making it better and feeling them again after so long despite them being my own, on my own body, I remembered how much you loved them. You loved that I had a jacobs ladder, you loved that I had my tongue split and pierced as well.

"Fuck, babe," I panted, eyes fluttering as the world around me disappeared. Thoughts of you coming back full force and I didn't care, "Fuck my cock good, shit, that's mmh! That's what I'm talkin' about! Please, fuck!" begging out into thin air, thrusting up into my hand again, pretending it was your body instead, your heat swallowing me up and sucking on my length so good that it already has me on my fucking edge.

I could feel it, your hands on my chest, fingers and nails digging into my skin as you rode me, looking down at me with that angelic, fucked out expression. I'd grab your hips, holding you taut in my grip and I'd bring you down equally as hard as the first time, your tight pussy taking me so well, leaking all over my cock, making us both moan for grace.

"Gonna cum for, Daddy?" I'd ask you and the only thing you'd be able to do was whimper in response, "It's okay, sweetheart, fuck, it's okay, let it out, let Daddy see it, let me see you cum on my dick, yeah?"

I'd switch our position, throwing you down until you're splayed out on your stomach, lying flat and I'd pepper your neck in kisses, all the way down your spine when I slid myself back inside of your slick opening and I'd start up all over again, panting against your shoulder, I'd kiss your face, wanting to make you feel loved, protected and secure when you finish for me.

After wrapping my hand around your throat, I'd hold you up, plunging my cock in and out of your cunt, grunting with each smack and slap of my hips against your fat behind, the sight of your ass being destroyed only spurring me on further. You'd manage to get your hand in my hair, pulling on the shaggy strands and it would cause me to go ballistic, it being one of my most sensitive spots.

"Fuck, baby girl, fuck, Daddy's gonna cum, gonna fill your cute pussy up with, ah! With my fucking cum!" I moaned, letting the visions consume me, of you, of us all over again.

Lifting my head, only to let it drop right back to my pillow as I chewed hard on my lip, gasping out a few seconds later, feeling almost submissive to your touch, to your visuals, almost ready to submit, almost ready to just throw myself at you and that thought alone has me bucking into my hand again, thrusting in and out of my fist with a brutal pace, knowing it isn't good enough, but it's something close to your pussy.

"O-Oh, fuck! Fuck, I-I'm gonna.. hah.. ah! Fuck, I'm gonna c-cum!" I grunt, clenching my jaw, breathing hard through my nose, "Don't stop- fuck! I'm c-cumming!"

Opening my eyes at the right time to see the tip of my cock explode with three ropes of cum, painting my abs and even my chest, my whole body twitching with need. I dared to give my softening length a few more tight tugs and that alone made me whimper again. I eventually let go, hands shaking and as soon as I get the chance, the substance on my hand and fingers was licked up, not minding the bitter taste but enjoying it nonetheless because it was some freaky shit you caused me to be into.

I knew then just how much I still loved you. It was sick and stupid of me, but I didn't care. I knew I'd have to try harder from now on, and I did.