Masternap
Part 1 of 2
It's 3 o'clock in the morning when Seth turns his key in the lock, his fingers wrap themselves around the door handle, pushing it open.
The nearly 40 year old man enters his home with a deep, soundly sigh. He lazily runs a hand through his neat black hair, instantly turning it into a mess. He tosses his keys in the tray on the cupboard beside the door, and quickly drops his shoulder bag to the floor.
He then makes his way to the kitchen, and whilst doing so, starts to undo the buttons of his grey woollen jacket. He walks into the kitchen, draping his jacket around the rest of one of the chairs there, and makes his way to the refrigerator. Without hesitation, he opens the fridge. The cool air immediately hits him straight in the face. He shudders at the sudden change of temperature, goosebumps forming on his skin, the hairs in his neck standing up straight as it awakens his senses. He reaches out to grab two bottles of beer, he then kicks the door shut, and slowly walks to the living room after undoing a bottle of its cap. Before plunging down, he takes a long chug of the alcoholic beverage.
He drops himself in the sofa, straightaway sinking into the comfortable seating. He sits back, legs spread wide open for comfort, and closes his eyes while the rim of the bottle touches his lips. Seth takes a couple of seconds for himself, remembering what occurred today. He just came back from work, tired, fatigued, after working straight for hours on end for the passed couple of days. He's been to several meetings, table reads, and had to deal with a bunch of (technical) problems. No wonder he doesn't have a personal life; his career keeps him occupied, to the bone.
He opens his eyes again, sighing, and lightly throws his head back to chug down some more beer. He tiringly rubs his right eye with his fingers before the precious digits travel down and wrap themselves around another target. They work roughly to loosen up his tie as he moves towards the coffee table, reaching out to grab the remote. He sits back, flicks the T.V. on and starts to flip through the channels.
A commercial break. Boring. Tedious. Crap that shouldn't even be broadcasted. Boring. A wonderful gayish bromance movie he's not interested in watching. Another boring commercial. A commercial filled with nudity. Another predictable rom-com flickers on the screen.
He shakes his head with a sad smile upon his face. He places the now empty beer bottle onto the coffee table, his weight shifting in the sofa as he opens bottle number two.
He sits back once more, and stares at the screen. It had conveniently stopped at a channel filled with nudity, whereas the blonde is making her best attempt to turn him on, her tits pushed together and nearly pressed against the screen as she moans. She gives him a naughty look, her tongue twirling around her mouth, then bites down onto her lower lip. Long lashes regard him seductively.
With utmost interest, he watches her attempt and sees how a brunette approaches her hungrily on all fours. The two immerse in a fierce tongue battle. The camera zooms towards their hands as the brunette starts to massage the blonde's tits through the lacy bra. He attempts to straighten his pants out, shifting terribly in his seat. A slight, yet growing, discomfort is rising below.
It's then when he notices that his groin feels awfully tight. He looks down and is met by tight slacks, a large tent clearly visible through the piece of fabric. It slowly dawns upon him. It's been over a week. It's been a week since he's gotten off. This must be why he's so on edge lately.