Thursday, November 7, 2013

Fun House, Wherehouse, Their House / Two Fingers Of Red

November 7

Three days at work and no reaction from Tami. Just her usual diffident self. 

I got in early the first day after the weekend and nosed around the shop. Nothing. Not a clue of anything out of the usual. 

I suppose I could read something into the fact that Annie has not had any "special projects" during or after work hours, but even that could mean nothing. Annie runs hot and cold and never acknowledges anything until she calls me into her office, locks the door behind me, and sets the tone of whether she wants to take charge or if it is my turn to show her what I really want to "that big arsed tit-less girl friend of mine." I suppose I could try to defend Rene, but I have found it more useful to channel that energy into fucking the hell out of Annie's curvy full grown woman's body. As Annie strips off my shirt she often comments how my muscles have grown while I sweat and furiously hump her rump spread out on her shop foreman's desk.

But nothing so far this week. Work has just been loading and unloading trucks. Not even a run to the aide of our freelance commercial artists Ellen Joy's studio.

Boy am I horny.

So when I got the call from Rene apologizing for not calling or seeing me since our drive in date my head spinning confusion set in full bore. To my disappointment Rene was buried in her studies at University so I would not see her until Friday, at the very earliest.

Now I am really horny and desperate.

So I showered and as drying off in front of the mirror I noticed improved my muscle tone, especially my arms and shoulders had filled out. No six pack but my stomach was flat and taut. As I admired myself like a Budgie in front of a mirror, there it was plain as day. That thin red line I had noticed where my cock's shaft met my abdomen was now the width of two fingers. But most noticeably my dick was definitely longer.

I tried to tell myself that it was just because I hadn't been laid in three days. Wait longer. I guess I had hallucinated or dreamed Rene's Sunday night appearance. The memory of which made my cock rise to full attention, even pointing up to the constellations I was so excited. I had to say to myself. "Well that is longer and thicker without a doubt."

I went to get a Playboy and chose the one with Liv Lindeland, my favorite for years and laid on my bed to try out my new expanding attraction. But with the first stroke I felt that sting again encircle shaft and below the sack, but I persisted and showing no restraint or thought of delay quickly spurted a thick and lumpy load of cum high into the air slathering myself and my covers alike. I did not even bother to clean up. Imagining I was just sleeping in the post fucking wet spot I went deep asleep.

There was Robin. She was the Mr. Fix-it at the shop. Robin was a very masculine average sized woman. Short cropped hair, broad shoulders, thin hips, no tits, with the most guy like walk I had ever seen on a woman. Robin could fix anything. I had watched closely as I handed her the tools she needed as she fixed machines quickly and creatively. We worked well together and I liked her a lot.Colleagues and though I did not find her particularly attractive I would sometime admire her small butt as she wrenched away on various machines. She on the other hand seemed to like me, but emanated not the slightest of sexual energy around me. I had my hands full at this place of business already, but being nineteen I would imagine what would be  willing try out the bedding of all sorts of women.

But the dream of a naked Robin above tugging and pulling on my cock, not in a stroking hand job kind of way, but in the manner I have seen her removing a heavy machine part woke me with a start and in a cold sweat. Upon the moment of waking I though I saw someone else lying on their stomach looking into my eyes. I think I recognize her. But as I came into this realm, she dissipated into the dream world along with Robin. But the sensation of Robin's strong hands pulling on me lingered a bit longer while I wondered why Donna made her brief appearance in this latest "flashback" .


  1. AND???????? I do not believe patience is a virtue. I'm ready for the next one.

    1. I am awash in a sea of sweet Desiree comments. Loving it. Thank you. I will have to see if the lad has written in his journal ;-) Meanwhile I am thinking that look of impatience on your face is similar to your countenance when being playfully teased.