[EDITING] TOUCH | Nakamoto Yuta

05 |

Warning// Sexual Content

･゜ﾟ･*:.｡.:*･*:.｡.:*･゜ﾟ･

   A hand wrapped around him from behind, the hand cold on his stomach, another trailing down his inner thigh. His head was resting on someone's shoulder, in front of him, their hands gripping his waist and pulled him onto their lap. He moaned as the cold hands wrapped one around his throbbing cock, twisting and moving up and down the shaft easily with his precum dripping from the head. Whispers of sexual desires echoed in his ears as one of the hands on his waist slithered around, squeezing his ass and letting go when he heard the wonton whine come from his pink lips. His eyes were squeezed shut as he tightened his arms around the one in front of him's neck when he felt something prod at his entrance.

He brokenly moaned a name, or two, when a finger slipped inside him, and another glazing over the slit of his dick as lips mouth their way around his neck, biting him gently and leaving bruises on his nape.

🎭

He gasped as he shot up, chest heaving and panting, hair stuck to his forehead and neck, eyes wide.

Blinking he looks around, from his desk to the empty bed on the other side of the room to his shelves of knick knacks.

Trying to steady his breath, "That was... just a... a dream..." he whispered into the quiet darkness, the only light being from the crack in the curtains letting in a sliver of moonlight. "I just need to use the bathroom." He said quietly to himself, as he swung his legs over the side of the bed, slipping on his slippers.

Trying not to make too much noise, he left his room, shuffling into the dark bathroom, only turning on the lights once the door was shut. Eyes not accustomed to the brightness, he had to close them before slowly opening them, blinking a few times.

He leaned on his arms against the counter; his heart was still racing, breath shaky, looking down he could see a tent in his plaid pajamas pants. His mind replayed the dream he had— no, not a dream, W-What was that? No, it has to be a dream right? That was months ago... But his body still felt the lingering touches, his body was warm, but his stomach felt cold, as if he was wearing a croptop again, the feeling of someone caressing his thighs, various prickling numbing sensations were coming from his neck. He reach up, pressing lightly on the patch of skin beneath is ear lobe on his jaw, where he felt a numb feeling, and felt a shock of pain that reminds him of when he was little and would press on a bruise to see if it actually hurts. And it did.

It felt too realistic. Because it was real. The touches, the voices, the vivid imagery, it all felt too real. Because it is. But there's no way it can be, it's been months since and he didn't remember anything until now? Isn't that strange?

He groaned, feeling a headache coming on from trying to figure out where the awfully realistic dream came from. Instead he looked down again, focusing on the main problem; his boner, morning wood if you will, well it is the morning, three A.M. The clock on the wall read exactly three thirty-six.

He could just ignore it and his boner could go down itself, so he tried, waiting eight minutes in silence. Waiting, it was a bit unsettling, being quiet in a bathroom at three in the morning, in a dorm full of people yet no noise was emitting from any of them, alone with his thoughts, which he doesn't want. He doesn't want to be alone with his thoughts, if he was they would drift into territory he doesn't want to think about. He looked at himself through the mirror, eyes falling onto his midsection. Maybe the test results were faulty, maybe he read them wrong or a nurse accidentally switched mine with someone else's.