The rain fell lightly all over the town as the bus guided its passengers on to their required destinations, narrowly avoiding contact with other passing traffic as it tried to catch up on time with its schedule; two of the passengers were students from one of the nearby high-schools, casually lighting cigarettes and smoking at the back seats whilst hurling childish comebacks at an elderly lady telling them off. The rain, however, was unusual for this time of year; bus passengers smoking openly in front of those who would scowl and retaliate was unusual for this town.
In fact, everything was just plain unusual – but Archie couldn't pay any attention to it. With his head sunk into the palm of his hand, arched upon his arm and perched carefully on the lip of the window he sat at, his golden eyes pierced out and on beyond the buildings and the people they passed. He paid no mind to any of it, and coughed as the bursts of cancerous substance reached him as if it was a standard reaction for even the numbest of souls.
He thought about Michaela; he thought about Erin, the student whom just an hour or so before he had found himself locked in a quick surge of passion with. When he'd finally left the building he did what he could to avoid eye contact with his fellow peers, for after the anger came the despair, and with that all focus on his moral duties escaped him.
But now his breathing was heavy; Archie stared out at nothing, yet it appeared as if he was searching for something. An answer, perhaps, or an excuse. It bewildered even himself that he had done such a thing, on the day of her birthday, and singular tears would force themselves out of the ducts as the realisation of this replayed and repeated in his head. With every tear, though, Archie would rub his eyes and wipe his nose lightly against the back of his thumb. He broke away briefly to focus on his surroundings, and soon found he was coming up close to his destination. He rang the bell and escaped from the thin shroud of cigarette smoke, away from the confrontation, further down the stretch of bus until he reached the front.
A few moments passed, and soon the heavy automobile slowed to a stop – the doors unsheathed and the dishevelled male stepped out. He zipped up his leather jacket, looking up towards the sky as the rain pitter-pattered onto his delicate cheeks, red and sore from crying. Archie's sigh was masked by the grunt and groans of the bus engine as it restarted and drove further on into the night, and he watched it from the shelter as it slowly dove down the hill and disappeared from sight, the remains of his pride and complacency still occupying his seat against the window.
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Droplets of remnant rain fell lightly from Archie's damp hair as he wiped his feet upon the doormat and closed the front door behind him. The front room light had been left on for his return, though the blinds had been closed and, given Michaela's schedule for the following day, Archie believed it likely that she had already gone to bed.
He sighed quietly to himself, peeling off his leather jacket and carefully hanging it on the nearby coat rack. His shirt had become slightly damp where it hadn't been protected by the coat and waistcoat when he rushed for the bus at the end of his work-day. He undid the buttons of the waistcoat as he entered the kitchen, switching the light on and progressing on to grab some orange juice from the fridge. Ordinarily he would just pour it into a glass, but Archie was in no mood for calm, rational action and so drank it straight from the cap of the carton.
He wiped his mouth after a swig, replacing the cap and returning it to the fridge – he closed the door with his back pressed against it, forcing it shut whilst he took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, trembling in breath as the emotions he felt before continued to slither through his system, clawing up and down his body and before he knew it Archie had slid down to the floor, collapsing in on himself as his tears cascaded out. His head sat in his hands for a while, trying to keep quiet as he pathetically sobbed.
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It felt like half an hour had passed before Archie could muster the strength to lift himself up and off of the ground. He was visibly upset and inwardly angry with himself. It all felt like a horrible nightmare; the degrading words of the girl he cheated on Michaela for wouldn't leave his head, and he wiped more stray tears as he staggered slowly out of the kitchen. He flicked the light off, and proceeded to do the same in the living room – only, then, he paused.
His breathing was slow and deep, and his eyes were fixed to the long metal pole built into the room; the room was still as warm as it had been earlier that morning, his eyes working the lifeless, metaphorical shaft from top to bottom as he remembered their romp that morning. He twitched an eye – his memories were starting to mix together. There, before him, knelt Michaela before a vision of his naked self, it's head tilted back and the lady beneath him sucking up and down his length; beside them, another young lady – the same one from back at the campus – beneath another vision of himself, at a moment where his unfaithfulness gained true fruition as Erin's apparition worked his cock as if she were working a candy cane into an ice-pick.
Archie shook his head hard, his eyes squeezed shut until they re-opened – the ghosts had gone, but an unmistakable strain remained.
Well, two unmistaken strains.
The torn being felt his conscience grow heavier as it tried to push him back to the floor, and in the throes of lowering his head to try and push back up against the force, he had taken notice of the evident bulge beneath his work trousers. This was a dilemma, and Archie looked around him for an answer but could find none. The strain – both strains – crept away after a minute or so, but a regrettable feeling of lust swam in his stomach. The feelings he felt that night...the feelings that even now seemed to persist within him...they called out for release, and Archie's bright eyes glimmered dangerously in the living room light, before he flipped the switch.
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