Tyree stretched his arms above his head, sighing with relief. He couldn't believe how close he'd come to missing his deadline completely. When the monthly reminder had popped up in his mailbox at about six o'clock last evening, he'd been shocked. He'd lost track of the days and hadn't even thought about what he was going to write. Well, an all-nighter had averted the disaster, but the wake-up call was loud and clear. He'd have to take control of his life.
Could a divorced Thirty-two, year old man be having a mid-life crisis? Lately, he'd been feeling old and tired, as if life were passing him by, and the only thing that made him happy, all he could think about were women and tits. He'd been at his computer all day yesterday downloading pictures and videos. He couldn't seem to get enough. How many times had he come yesterday? Four or five times, he figured, and with no down time in between. What was happening to him? One erotic fantasy led to another, each one more alluring and compelling than the last. He'd always been a horny guy. He'd always loved the harem of women who lined the shelves of his private library. But until now, he'd been in control. He fit them into his life. Now they summoned him and he seemed unable to resist their siren calls. However, working for the magazine paid his rent and allowed him the time to work on his novel. And he'd almost got himself fired. This obsessive behavior would have to stop and right now!
He watched a series of emails flood his inbox. One marked urgent caught his eye. It was from his masseuse: Got the flu'. Am trying to get an associate to fill in. No luck so far, but I'll keep trying. Sorry about all this, Miguel.
Miguel was the last of Tyree's ex-wife's legacies. She'd hired him to come every Sunday and massage each of them. He still did, just on different days and at separate residences. Tyree spent a great deal of time sitting at his computer and his weekly massages relieved the tension that would sometimes result in chronic back pain. He was disappointed that Miguel wouldn't be coming today, but right now, he needed sleep. He'd catch some shuteye and then get up and try to work past this episode of writes block.
Tyree felt a familiar stirring in his groin and without thinking, untied his robe. He was naked underneath. He was above average in height. When he wasn't writing he worked hard at keeping himself in shape, which showed in his chiseled chest and rock hard abs. Sweat glistened on his chest as he felt the all to familiar tightening in his groin. He restored and started his media player and reached for the bottle of lubricant that sat open on his desk. He sighed and slouched in his chair as cool, smooth liquid oozed between his knowing palm and waiting cock. The air around him became charged with something tense, powerful and familiar. It cut him off from reality and settled him into a nether-land of relentless and all-consuming sexual pleasure. He felt light-headed and tingling sensations tickled the hairs on the back of his neck, penetrated his skin and coursed along his body's nerve ends. He looked at her, this woman on the screen, and an incredible surge of horniness claimed him. She was sitting cross-legged on a bed, her attention focused on the fingernail she was painting with a bright red polish that accentuated the pale warmth of her skin. Her face was mischievous, except for the twinkle in her eyes that peeped from behind exquisitely long lashes to acknowledge him and to let him know that she knew he was there and knew what he was doing. He let go of his cock, dropping his hands to his sides. He wouldn't touch himself again until she made him; until pre-cum leaked from his penis head. But not yet, she was busy now. A tinny soundtrack annoyed him. He muted the sound. When she was ready, she would talk to him. His subconscious mind was already writing the script.
Both hands finished, his girl put down her bottle and blew him a quick kiss before directing the flow of her sweet, hot breath across her wet nails, again and again. He imagined that same current of air passing over his erect nipples and down his naked body to his cock and balls. It gathered force, rushing now toward his ass and pressuring his groin. The girl wore a see-through white top and bikini panties. She spread her fingers and, being careful not to disturb her manicure, ran her hands down the fleshy expanse of her generous breasts that sat over her tight stomach and long muscled legs.
"Soon baby," Tyree her heard her whisper. "Be patient. Soon you'll be all mine."
Pre-cum began to flow and his erotic hunger mounted to new heights. He felt like he hadn't come in months and after yesterday's multiple orgasms that fact overwhelmed and frightened him. He'd been masturbating for as long as he could remember, riding the crests and then finding in the troughs a calming physical and psychological absence of sexual longing. But lately, there'd been no resolution; only orgasm and an almost immediate return to arousal, greater and greater arousal. He gathered his pre-cum between thumb and forefinger and began to reverently spread it all over the head of his erect cock.
"That's good," his girl cooed. "Now watch me."
She smiled a lascivious smile and, using her hands, lifted one tit toward her face. A bottle fell from its hiding place, the cleavage between her raised breast, and she laughed rakishly, opening her greedy mouth to receive her own nipple. At the very last minute, coquette that she was, she changed her mind and her demeanor. Giving her breast a quick, innocent kiss, she nestled into it like a sleepy child.
"Wanna' share my pillow?" she teased, winking at Tyree. A large glob of pre-cum oozed his appreciation and a luxuriant erotic heat claimed him. "Watch me and learn," she purred, squeezing oil from a generous height into the cup of her hand. She carefully dipped one nipple and, leaving it gleaming, favored the other. She poured more liquid and then began to massage and fondle and deliver long, slow strokes. She slicked both hands and began to milk and stroke, like she thought her tit was a tit one minute and a cock the next. Paying specific attention to her growing nipples, she massaged her breasts until they gleamed. Tyree grabbed his bottle and squeezed a generous portion of lotion into both his hands, groaning aloud as he slid his cock in and out of the warm, wet cavern his hands had made.
"Oh no," he thought, slowing the movement to a crawl.
He didn't want to come … not yet. He wanted the pleasure to go on … forever. But the tide was rushing in and he couldn't stop it. Didn't want to! Didn't care!! He stretched his legs so hard that they lifted off the floor and closed his eyes tight as orgasmic spasm after spasm overwhelmed his senses. It was Nirvana and all the cum of all the ages spilled out of him.
When he opened his eyes, he was surprised to see how little milky white evidence there was. A towel lay ready on his desk and he matter-of-factly cleaned himself up and managed to drag himself to bed. He lay on his back. His cock felt warm against the cool sheets. It was beginning to prickle nicely, but before he could touch it, he fell into a deep sleep.
When Tyree awoke, his hard cock was pressing insistently into the mattress and he was in the final throes of a dream. He shut his eyes and tried to go back to sleep, but he couldn't. He turned onto his back, remembering the dream that had so enraptured him. He was swimming in an ocean of floating breasts. It was strange; the bodies were submerged and all he could see were nipples and parts of breasts. He reached out for them, but they'd dissolve before he could feel them. He wanted them and their bodies. He wanted arms around him. He wanted arms pressing breasts into him and a face he could kiss. Finally, at the edge of the pool, a woman appeared. She held her hands out to him and a feeling of intense warmth surrounded him. She began to swim toward him. Her breasts kept getting bigger and bigger and suddenly, he was in her arms and his cock was in her pussy and he felt more love and more carnal satisfaction then he'd ever felt before. And that's when he woke up. It seemed so real. He couldn't believe that he was alone in his bed. Tyree closed his eyes wanting more of the dream. He tossed his sheet aside and cupped his balls with one hand while gripping his cock with the other. He groaned as he varied the pressure on his balls with one hand and altered the pattern of strokes with the other. But the dream had escaped him. He couldn't feel his mermaid. He felt so good, but he needed his mermaid.
"Please, help," he moaned, squeezing harder, stroking faster.
The knocks on his apartment door were clear and insistent. "Is anybody there?"
