Desperation and Fornication

Part 8: The Exploration

Oh. My. GOD! When I tell you John bolted to his car, I mean that the Flash looked like an old lady crossing the street compared to this motherfucker. He was out of there so quickly.

John leaped up from where he was sitting in the broom closet. Oh yeah, remember that? He's still at work, and he's been gone for a noticeable amount of time. It's cool though and his legs took off. He immediately regretted his actions, because after all of the dirty talk they did, of course, he popped a boner. Ha! Fucking dumbass.

John quickly threw his hands over his crotch and was promptly embarrassed, even though there was no audience. Little did he know, this story is being narrated in the third person omniscient point of view.

After stumbling around to find his keys and a quick adjustment of his pants, John took off. Motherfucker sprinted down the hall and into the street. He jumped into his car and drove over to Tracy's place.

And let me tell you, John was a damn speed demon. He was cutting corners, speeding on the highway, making a right on red without stopping, he was going to have sex if it killed him. And it might've because he almost got into a car crash.

Two pedestrians, a curb getting run over and one trucker flip-off later, John had finally arrived at Tracey's place. His boner was back, more popping than ever.

John whipped out his phone and texted Tracey.

John
I'm here

Tracey
Good, I could barely wait
I'm in apartment M
Get inside

John
I'll be coming...
Literally

John smiled, he thought his joke was hilarious. Honestly, I've seen better, but whatever. It's not like my opinion matters. It's not like anyone's asked what I'm doing lately, or in my life. In fact, why don't you think about that reader? Day in and day out, it's always, "I can't wait for my new book!" or, "When is the next chapter of this stupid fucking satire coming out?" but never, "I wonder how that narrator is doing. They seem chill, and I'd totally like to hang out with them on a semi-regular basis." Sorry, my emotions got the better of me, and I will be suppressing them now for a little while.

So, I'm gonna skip the details of him not being able to find her apartment and go right to when he finally arrived at her door.

Tracey opened the door and kissed John. Her lips pressed against him with passion and fire, meeting John's intimate, almost timid, and icy nature. Her arms wrapped around his neck and his hands ventured to her backside.

Damn, homeboy's grabbing some ass! Yeah! Sorry, *ahem* that was gross. I won't be saying that again.

Tracey and John stopped kissing at the exact same time. Tracey dragged her fingernails across John's cheek. Her words were smooth and sensual like liquid sex was flowing from her lips.

"What took you so long to get here?" John tried to match her energy, as best as he could.

"I got lost on the way here. But trust me, I know where everything is on your body." Holy shit, not half-bad! He's not me or anything, but still. God, what a great writer. I would love to get his autograph one day. Fuck, them! They go by he/they pronouns at the time you're reading this. Sorry for the misgendering, on with the story!

They locked lips again, and they slowly moved over to the couch. John's hand moved to Tracey's thigh just as her hand moved up his leg. Her hand grazed his dick, his hand touched her vagina. There was only one thing in their way. Clothes.

Tracey took off her top first, revealing her lacy black bra. She had time to change before John could get there, and she chose one of her favorite pairs of lingerie. She loved the way it looked on herself.