Staring out of the window, over the River Thames, from the simple but clean single rented bedroom Paul sighed deeply. He felt alone, completely alone, and felt the panic in his chest as the thoughts ran around his head.
"You are no good. No one wants you. No one cares. You are all alone in the world"
The thought was well worn now. It has it's own groove in his mind. He almost felt comfortable hearing it play on repeat. Overriding other thoughts, even suicidal thoughts, might have been a break from the repetition in his head.
As was his habit, his go to way of soothing, he lay wanking. Absentmindedly almost, his hand played up and down his mostly firm cock, hard erections no longer possible after the second orgasm, for the third straight hour in a row. Not fully hard he wondered if he would cum again. The four lots of semen he had already extracted from his balls lay dumped and drying on his stomach or sheets. Mostly dry now -- but from time to time he would move and feel the wetness of his cum. Everytime he felt that wetness he would feel the volume in his head increase.
"You are no good. No one wants you. No one cares. You are all alone in the world"
The increase in volume only ever helped drive his, now, sore arm and wrist onwards. Pulling at his raw skin he continued his sinful masturbation. He knew, from experience, he would cum again. He knew this would continue until sleep and exhaustion got him and stopped the thoughts and the wanking. Six wanks, or rather orgasms, before sleep or exhaustion got him. It was all one long wank after all, sometimes lasting hours or even a whole night or day. If he was not working, he would lay on his filthy bedsheet trying to hide from the loud repetition in his head, working his cock and balls with arm and porn avoiding life outside his room.
"You are no good. No one wants you. No one cares. You are all alone in the world"
A month into his new job, university now in his past, a week into this flat. He had thought he would be much happier than he was.
The long awaited step into the "real world" heralded so much more freedom and fun was not what he expected. The loneliness of university was replaced with the loneliness of work. Potentially he now realised it was worse as there was a great deal more stress in work with his colleagues than his old classmates.
The joy of moving into a flat, out of Bed and Breakfast and university halls, was supposed to be the start of a more social life. Surely, in the real world, he would be OK. Surely he was a decent human being. Surely people would become his friends and he would have a social life. Surely, surely, surely was often the thought that triggered the repetitive chant in his mind. If only life was as he thought it surely should be.
"You are no good. No one wants you. No one cares. You are all alone in the world"
Struggling at work was bad enough. It caused lots of his anxieties and belief that he would be forever lonely. Now, to add to that, he felt a need to keep to his room in the flat rather than spend time with his new flatmate Gemma. He was no sure why but he sensed he was just a burden to have in the flat and every time they spoke he very quickly got the sense that she was irritated by him and with the boyfriend around more often than he expected it felt like he was not wanted. Rather than keep feeling that way, he kept himself to his room -- a self-imposed prisoner of sorts, unless hunger or the need to use the bathroom was too great. Loneliness was getting him, and he knew he was slipping back into the depressions of old, from school, that he thought he would have put behind him by this stage in life. Surely it should not be like this.
Though he kept in touch with the family that he had stayed with from the B&B that he initially moved in when he moved to the city. Mrs Smith checking in every few days that he was ok in the "big city" there was not one else who knew he was here or how he was getting on. No one seemed to notice his existence. His Mum long since silent once he moved out of the house at 17 to go to university.
He was proud of himself for having finished and done well in his degree. Securing his first job, with a large global company, getting this room secured after only a few days in this new city he had thought he could make it all work. What money he had saved during university was rapidly running out -- as he was yet to get his first wage - he was delighted at the cost of £600 a month for a central London single bedroom flatshare.
The first visit to the flat had been very pleasant chat with Gemma - the owner and the only other person staying there he had thought. At 28 she was only a few years older than his 23 and he had felt comfortable with her, and they chatted easily about university, work, and living in the city. She was quietly spoken, obviously polite and well mannered, he had immediately harboured some sexual attraction to her. Gemma was pretty, by most standards, though she dressed in a way that hid her figure with long loose sleeved jumpers and joggers when he had met her. Still a virgin even after four years at university he had masturbated more than once - before he had moved in and since - about the thought of perhaps catching her in the bathroom or getting changed.
She had got back in touch after that first meet to say he could have the spareroom but her boyfriend wanted to meet him. He was OK with that and, though a little sad to learn she was not single, it sounded a sensible move for a woman living on her own. She had explained that he stayed over some times - which he did not think would be a problem in the two bedroomed flat.
Though since he had moved in last Sunday Mark, the boyfriend, had been here every day. He had quickly picked up from Mark that he was not welcome in the living room at all and tolerated in the bathroom and kitchen. Paul was not happy and had been annoyed when Gemma explained Mark was married and only stayed here if things were not working well at home. Things were not well at home at all and Mark was here an awful lot.
That was bad enough but since Mark had been here every night this first week in the flat there had been constant arguments between him and Gemma. They never argued with him in the room -- but it was impossible not to hear them in such a small flat. The flat felt an unpleasant place to live. Mark, being older and slightly aggressive in his language made Paul feel threatened. It started from the way he shook his hand when Paul entered the flat with his worldly goods over his shoulders.
Shaking his hand more painfully than firmly before closing the door on him in his room as though that was where he was to stay.The initial meeting with Mark had felt more formal than the initial chat with Gemma but Paul accepted that he wanted to know "his girl", his words, would be safe with a stranger moving in.
Mark was taller than Paul and quite a bit older - at 50 - so Paul found himself deferring to Mark's authority in the initial meeting. He had accepted, though finding the demands unsettling, to use the bathroom and kitchen only at set times so he did not impact Gemma's life too much. He was welcome to use the living room - he was told - but the fact of mentioning it the way he had meant that Paul felt he should not use it. That was at the first meeting but the reality this week had been much more strained. He was not happy and had started to browse for other places to stay but no where was there a flat in this neighbourhood for only £600 a month all-inclusive room rental. He was feeling really trapped and more anxious every day in his new, supposedly great, place.
