GREAT AROUSALS (THARNTYPE ONE-SHOTS 18+)

~aN AWful HeaT~

A/N- HAPPY (belated) HOLI :)

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It was one of those times when type went through a rut.

Heatwaves coursed, gushing through type's body. It consumed his entirety, leaving him flushed and horny.

Although It was the peak of the frigid season, sweat already sprang from his glands as if he was committed to some great amount of exertion, which he obviously wasn't as of now.

His face housed a crimson hue around his cheeks further spreading to his neck and ears.

"Dammfuckingit!"

He cursed under his breath as the unprecedented temperature compelled him to peel off his lowers and layers of sweater and hoodie, rather gracelessly. Type was left stalking the house, frantically, in his oversized tee.

tharn's cock couldn't at all times be at his service, like Right now when he had left to set some business right with their Benz. Only if type would have been a little less laid back earlier, he wouldn't have to terribly scavenge for objects to fuck himself on in his own house.

Imagining his tantalizing husband, Tharn, naked, whacking his cock, calling for type to ride him, taking him in different positions, and most of all, never failing to look like the god of sex scheming to drive him to the Hades had Type's insides churned with whirlwinds of desperation.

Up until now, he had cummed indefinitely to those images but his cock, refusing to settle, stubbornly curved up to his belly button.

In a state of mentally frenzying lunacy, for no predetermined reason at all, type pranced down the stairs, maybe missing out a few steps in between but it was ok as long as his legs got him down safely. Perhaps somewhere he planned on pouncing upon tharn as soon as he would step in through the door.

Calling tharn up would definitely have been an option, provided that he would have carried his phone along. But that old, forgetful giant had left his phone in the bedroom.

Who does that in this century?! Sometimes tharn too was impossible.

Whining pathetically from the soreness that his hands had brought upon his own body, type settled on the floor against the last step that met the ground. his whimpers filled with consternation as he fingered his hole and fisted his cock. Sweat was already drenching his tee that he never bothered to remove. He came curtly, humiliated at how it had been happening just within a few jerks.

Type sucked lungfuls of air with his head hung low between his knees, awfully wanting to have a break from all the mental and physical pandemonium.

He seriously had no idea about how long would it be before the heat went away.

His fingers dug into his scalp to mess with his tousled head. Tears rolled down his eyes, unpleasantly Insatiable and continually on edge. His mouth wanted to be filled, better if he chocked. and It killed him how his butthole gaped around emptiness.

Empty, Empty, SO EMPTY.

An emptiness that had started off like needle pricks was now stabbing him like knives.

Type stood up, sitting made him fidgety. Sniffing with an agape mouth, type looked around and about, snapping his neck, really needing anything that would stuff into his hole till tharn returned.

All at once, he happened to look at the side rails of the stairs, his eyes focused on the spherical knob into which the railing terminated. at this instant, he was past the stage of being ashamed of his deeds. This was an emergency and everything was acceptable to him.