Bedtime story

Sleep is good. Saturday, the night Stryker’s Beast mauled me, I got to bed late and slept little. Too horny. Sunday night, I went to bed early but woke up two hours later and was wide awake until 3:30. Horny again. Yesterday, I felt like the walking dead by about 6:30 in the evening. Slogging through the kids’ homework was torture. By 8:30, I was ready for bed. The kids were all down and out by 9:00. The pillows were waiting.

But then, the little voice of the hormone sprite whispered in my ear. “It’s time,” he squeaked. The irresistible force of my horniness started to push up against the immovable object of my exhaustion. I procrastinated in the bedroom, looking at dirty pictures and reading smutty stories. The Beast called to me. The occasional twinging aftereffects of my weekend ass stretching had reduced to nearly zero. I had kept the area shaved and was ready and very willing to put that dildo back where the sun don’t shine. Except for the tiredness. I laid there, internet in hand, and waited for the internal struggle between raging hormones and expiring brain cells to work itself out. Finally, at about a quarter to ten, I gave up. Whatever fire the sexual frustration lit was smothered under the blanket of weariness. I slept like a stone and didn’t wake up until 5:30.

The pressure in the tube was intense and reassuring. I could have eased it by taking a leak, but I decided to lay there and revel in it. I even exacerbated it by rolling onto my stomach and putting my ass up so as much blood as possible rushed into the cock. I rolled over on my back and let it’s awkward heaviness flop around. I reached down and felt the hard smooth tube and the heat it radiated from within, my tight nutsack and the hairless trail that led from its encircling steel ring to my asshole. I still needed rest, but I was rested enough that the peaks of my desire rose above the fog of sleepiness. Had it not been so close to the start of the day, I might have acted, but there was no time. Instead, I simply allowed myself to experience the unique attributes of my life of chastity. Tight tubes. Hormones. Desire.

Say your piece

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s