Warning: EXPLICIT M/M SEX!
Lovers
Can it have only been 13 hours? My hands shake slightly as I pick up my assigned book to read. It's going to be a long night, our very first apart since this started. I wonder what he is doing in his hotel room, if he is thinking of me. I wonder if he is picturing me here in his apartment – lounging desultorily on his couch, humming in his shower, eating his food in his kitchen.
I am wearing his clothing now – his leather jacket, his shirts that are baggy on me, his thick socks that keep his feet warm. I masturbate in his bed – imaging him on top of me, inside of me, holding me down while he pleasures himself. I feel him wrench my head back and bite my neck, a sign of his dominance, of my total submission to his desire.
He fascinates me – every book, nook and cranny of his physical existence. I spend much of my time exploring his apartment, pretending that we are married. How would I sign my name? Blokes aren't allowed to marry.
I sit in his chair, smoke his cigarettes, read his daily planner. I touch myself again, wrapping his scarf around my face, imaging it is him. I think of him lifting up my shirt, his mouth trailing wet kisses down my torso. His slender hands work at my belt. I feel him tongue my piss slit, lick my shaft, nuzzle my balls.
The phone rings and I jump. I don't answer it. I am not allowed. If he wants to call me, he will call me but probably it will be much later – he won't get a chance during the day as lectures go back to back and he has friends to catch up with. I listen to the recorded message. A colleague reminds him of their meeting next week. I'd love to be there, to hear him when he is in his professorial mode. I've never even seen him in class. I am forbidden to come to his office. I'm not allowed in that world.
But here, in the secrecy of his apartment, here he is all mine. In just twenty hours and thirty-seven minutes (if the train is on time), he will walk through the front door. I shall be lying in his bed, day-dreaming of him. He'll pull me to him with his strong arms, kiss me tenderly before he fucks me hard. He'll probably fuck me with his clothes on because he has been away from me for more than 24 hours and he can't wait. I love it when he does that. He'll grab my hair to steady himself while he plunges in and out of me. Then we'll collapse, panting. I'll clench my ass, trying to hold him in me, but he'll wither and slip out anyway, leaving me empty. And then he'll kiss me again, to tell me how much he missed me, to show me how glad he is to be back home with me. He'll fold me in his arms and I'll fall asleep for real this time, happy to be his.