This story starts out with me in jail... and ends with me in jail.
But that's sort of suitable for a story about myself, is it not?
This is more or less a telling of me falling in love with a man I gravely didn't deserve, and him changing my life in...
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I stared past the porn on my computer screen, to the blank wall in front of my bed. The sound of a woman orgasming echoed loudly throughout my room, but when I looked back down past my laptop at my little guy for a reaction, any fucking reaction, he was barely hard.
What. The. Fuck.
Don't think about it, Derek. Don't think about him. Don't fucking go there...
But my mind went there.
Went back to a mere hour ago, when I had abruptly showed up at the front steps of John's home for the second time today, completely soaked, and dripping pond water.
My mind played out every single thing that happened like it was safeguarding this information in case of a universal memory wipe or something. And of course, as soon as the climax of those events on John's doorstep came to a head, my dick grew rock hard in seconds.
Fuck... Fuck!
Six hours earlier...
It was a perfect sunny day, with mid seventies for the highs, which made the ride to John's home almost picture perfect. I didn't even need my jacket, but I brought a light one just in case.
Since it was Sunday, there weren't that many cars on the road. I got to zoom through the empty streets, weaving through light traffic before managing to get to John's right at three. He texted me to walk in when I arrived, so I drove my motorcycle up to the beginning of his driveway by his garage, parked it, and made my way in.
His door finger scan thingymadodad only pricked my finger the first time I used it when I came to feed Herold early last week. After that, it just scanned my fingerprint and had me enter the door code. I didn't know what kind of technology this was, but I decided not to even bother asking. It was one hundred percent outside of my tax bracket.
"Honey, I'm home!" I called out jokingly once the front door opened. Herold appeared outta fucking nowhere, sprinting with intensity before he literally jumped on me.
I'm not joking.
I felt his claws dig deep into my clothing and some of my skin, as this crazy fucker tried climbing me.
"Owow ow ow ow, Herold hold on-" I pleaded, trying to rip him off me but he wouldn't budge. Instead, after trying and failing to fight him off, I gave up and helped hoist him further up into my arms.
"How domestic," John replied from the end of his corridor that opened up into the main space. He was wearing a pair of distressed jeans, with a short sleeve white shirt that looked a lot like the one I wore to dinner a few nights ago.
