Authors note: This was a dream I had and I decided to write it into a story. I've made every attempt to proofread and correct errors and I apologize in advance if I've missed any.
Living the Dream
Chapter 1:
It had been one of those days. Work had left him physically spent and mentally exhausted. But in spite of being tired, he still felt centered and satisfied. The day wasn't over and his disposition was still one of optimism. Exiting his car, he gazed upon the quiet, familiar facade of his home and made his way up the steps to the back door.
The house was quiet and the lights were off. Light from the setting sun filled the house with a warm, soft glow. He set his keys on the kitchen counter and placed his work bag on the floor next to his usual bar stool. Humming from the refrigerator was the only noticeable sound in the house and drew his attention to the double doors. Opening the fridge, he retrieved one of the frosty bottles of beer that he kept on the top shelf, next to the cold air outlet.
As he took the first refreshing sip, he scanned his surroundings. There was no sound of his children, no sound of his wife. The house was unusually quiet for this time of day and on this particular day. He took another swig of beer and thought about calling out for his family. But the sound of silence was one he wished not to disturb. Instead, he decided to halfheartedly wander the house to see if anyone was home. Peeking in this room and that, he found no evidence of anyone. Just more silence.
The final destination was his bedroom where he found more of the same. Taking another long pull from his beer while surveying his surroundings, he evaluated his options and decided to shed his clothes and enjoy the time alone. Despite the toils of the day, his tall, lean frame seemed to float through space towards the bathroom. Once there, he began to warm up the shower.
Time seemed to evaporate as he steamed in the shower, letting his stress wash down the drain. The room had filled with a translucent haze and the mirrors were completely fogged. He had no idea how long he had been letting the hot water cascade over him, but the pruning of his fingertips told him considerable time had passed. Finally, he found the motivation to start moving.
He started by washing his hair, deliberately massaging his scalp in slow, methodical movements. His fingers found his temples and gently applied pressure dissolving what little tension remained. The soap suds in his hair were sufficient to massage into the rest of his anatomy and he pressed his hands down his chest and stomach, thoroughly soaping and scrubbing his body.
Continuing to wash further downward, he sensed a pleasant familiarity as his hands found his plump and relaxed cock. Something about it felt electric in this moment. It was hanging heavier than it usually did and seemed to be filling out the more he scrubbed it. The sensation was unmistakable and it caused his washing efforts to stagnate as he used the lubricity of the soap to stroke his stiffening cock.
His eyes closed and his head tilted back into the stream of water. The eye of his mind found a vision of his wife, sprawled across their bed. He continued to stroke his soapy and now firm cock while his mind continued to refine the image of his wife.
In his mind, she was lain across the bed, wearing nothing but a lacy black bra. Her legs were parted and her knees bent in the air; her feet flat on the mattress. He imagined her feet, perfectly pedicured with deep red painted nails. His imagination traced up her lean, athletic legs until he found his focus at her junction.
His wife's pussy was kept completely hairless. In fact, he couldn't remember it any other way. He was so familiar with her sex he could draw it blindfolded. To him, she had a perfect pussy. So perfect that nearly every masturbation session he had was centered around licking, sucking, or otherwise playing with it. His most recent obsession was the idea of licking his cum out of her, or more specifically, her force feeding him.
The thought of her cum filled pussy caused his now intensely ridged cock to pulse in his hand. He thought about her laying there with her lips partially spread and small pool of white fluid suspended at her entrance. His cock jerked at the thought of licking up the fluid with his tongue. Thinking of latching his lips around her opening and sucking her clean had him near the edge of release, but then a sound broke his momentum. His eyes immediately opened and his hands left his twitching member unattended.
Pausing and remaining still, he heard only the sound of running water at first. But then he heard the sound again, footsteps in the bedroom. He thought to call out, but decided against it given the compromising nature of penis and the clear, glass shower enclosure. The stream of misting water continually rinsed the fog from the glass and left the perspective from the bathroom doorway unobstructed, a view he often enjoyed when his wife bathed. He quickly decided to wrap up in the shower and he turned his backside to the door to finish up; the stream of water now assaulting his front side.
Once out of the shower, the sound of silence once again filled the house. He grabbed a towel and began to quickly dry off. Holding the towel still, he again paused to see if he could hear anything. Seconds passed as he stood motionless trying to detect what he thought he'd heard before. No footsteps, nothing.
It was only seconds that had passed, but it felt like minutes. He quietly hung up his towel and his naked body moved silently to the vanity. In spite of the tension, he was still completely hard and it once again caught his attention. He admired the throbbing head of his penis and thought about how long it had been since his cock had been this stiff. It felt like an iron rod and he sensed that it would not relent any time soon. However, he didn't feel secure in his surrounds to continue to masturbate. He thought about how devastating it would be if one of his daughters were to walk in. How would he explain that to them or his wife?
Instead, he decided to wait and listen again. Time passed and still there was no sound, but then he heard something. An unidentifiable sound that came from he bedroom; a soft sound, barely anything. Somebody was definitely in there and he could feel his heart racing. The thought of his wife's cum filled pussy had never left his thoughts and remained suspended in the back of his imagination. Further, his stiff erection and the titillating anxiety of being caught masturbating only further enhanced his excitement. It must be his wife, he thought.
He couldn't call out, he thought. His only option was to peek around the corner to see who was there. Whoever it was surely knew he was in the shower. Why hadn't they said anything? Was it all in his head? Finally, he mustered the courage to look past the doorway.
"How was your shower?" His wife called out. "You were certainly in there a long time."