Troy King Erotica

Awesome erotica for awesome adults only

Further ghost story sketching

This post is intended for mature people who also happen to be over 18.  If you do not fall into both categories, please find something else to read as I don’t relish the thought of offending anyone’s delicate sensibilities.

While Russ sleeps, his house is more active than he realizes.  He’s a deep sleeper, convinced of his own security system and overconfident in the way that only really handsome, wealthy, and well-hung men can be.  It simply cannot enter his mind that anyone would think he was less than godlike.

He sleeps nude, stretched out in his bed, master of his domain.  No one would ever argue that Russ is well-built guy.  He works out religiously and has been known to break off conversations so he can get to the gym at the appropriate time.  He’s cut, with washboard abs, huge pecs and shoulders.  He works out like he does because he knows women can’t resist it.  They love to touch his chest, play with his hard abs and when the cock comes out, well, that’s just like a huge, pleasant surprise present for them.

He never lets them sleep over, though, so none of his conquests have ever seen what he looks like first thing in the morning.  Since no one stays over and Russ himself sleeps so soundly, no one has ever noticed the vaguely female-shaped mist that floats around the house at night.

Russ wakes up like he usually does, getting out of bed to make his coffee before his brain has fully kicked in.  Still naked, he walks calmly downstairs, past his huge picture windows and into his kitchen.  Some people would have a problem with walking naked past the wide open picture windows in his living room.  Russ, however, feels that he is doing his small part to make life a little better for the women of the neighborhood.  He’s gotten more than a few sly grins from the women around here, but most of them are far below his standards.  A few of the men have given him dirty looks, but they never say anything and they’re just pissed that their women are thinking of Russ while they’re getting fucked.

In the kitchen he presses a button on a $1400 espresso machine and relaxes, leaning against the counter while the magical beast freshly grinds his beans, tamps them, brews a perfect double shot of espresso and steams the milk he put in the steamer.  The entire process takes some time, but there are some things you can’t rush, dammit.

While he’s stretching, he reaches down to scratch himself and notices his normally languidly erect cock is not acting like it should.  It’s completely flaccid and his balls, now that he stops to notice them, feel strange, like they’re caught in something.

Looking down, his sleepy brain notices something black wrapped around his member, tightly holding his balls apart keeping him from getting erect.

“What the hell?” Russ says to no one in particular and starts trying to extricate himself from this black thing that has decided it simply must have his cock.

Suddenly fully alert, Russ starts trying to free his dick, pulling it this way and that, trying to find how it’s secured to him.

With no small amount of effort, Russ finally manages untangles the black thing that has been knotted around him.  Somehow or another that girl’s thong had managed to get itself tightly wrapped around him while he slept.

He remembers throwing it in the trash by his bed last night, but somehow or another he woke up with it tightly wrapped around himself.

“Must have been sleeping fitfully,” Russ thinks to himself, “Accidentally grabbed it and rolled around and it got wrapped up.”

One of the greatest skills Russ Harding has is the ability to convince himself of anything.  It’s served him well over the years and, coupled with his good looks and natural charm, has gotten him where he wanted to be.  Without a second thought, he tosses the thong in the kitchen trash, pours his coffee into his perfectly steamed milk, adds exactly two spoons of sugar and heads back upstairs to enjoy the rest of his morning.

All the way up the stairs a thought keeps pinging away at him: those panties actually felt good wrapped around his dick.

Stopping in the middle of the stairs, Russ closes his eyes and forces the strange thought from his mind.  With the errant thought no longer bothering him, he continues up to his office where he drinks his coffee, checks his email and stocks, and catches up on the day’s news.

As he’s settling into his morning routine, he feels same strange feeling brush his back and writes a note to himself to call that lazy ass contractor back to fix whatever draft got left when the house was being renovated.

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This entry was posted on June 9, 2014 by in Stories and tagged , , , .

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