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The door clicks shut, and I hear the door being unmistakably locked behind you.
Late Sunday evening, it’s very late for a routine call. I lie here in this hospital bed, between sleep and vague drowsiness, hot, frustrated and uncomfortable. Waiting. Always waiting. Waiting to be fed bland hospital food, waiting to be taken to the toilet for a pee, as I am after all learning to walk again, waiting for a hello or a kind word. There again I am lucky to be alive, and boredom and frustration are the least of my worries.
As if reading my thoughts, I hear you walk over to the window and open it much wider to let in some of the fresh autumn evening air. I can tell it is you by your footstep. I’m glad it is you, I can tell that you are good at your job, very professional, hard-working and cool under pressure. There is a definite understanding between us. It took a little while to get established, but it is definitely there now. Call it what you will, a shared complicit awareness, particular consideration in your voice, the way you make a little extra time for me in your busy routine, the slightly lingering glances we sometimes share.
My single room is lit only by a pale blue lamp above the door. Quietly you come and sit down in the chair by my bed. I’ve had not visitors this weekend, maybe you are feeling sorry for me. Silence. It is as though you are measuring a decision, measuring the calculated risk you are about to take. Although my eyes remain closed, I am very aware of you now. Andrenalin starts to course through me, almost making me shiver involuntarily. What can be going on? Since the illness set in I haven’t ejaculated, it must have been weeks of slow physical recovery, and I’m already semi erect. My member is hard and damp against my restraining white boxers. My excitement only increases further as the full reality of the situation dawns on me — you have carefully chosen your moment in order to minimize the risk of detection.
As though to confirm my realization, I feel the sheet over my groin being lightly pulled back. Soon, I feel cool fingertips tracing the length of my now fully stiff member through the cotton fabric of my boxers. Gently you graze your fingernails, up and down. My heart is pounding. What do I do? halkalı escort How do I react? Above all, I am terrified that you will lose heart and walk away, leaving me unsatisfied. And I want to come so badly….Instead, I feel you gently draw back the restraining fabric of the boxers, the cooler air of the room feels delicious against my hot, hard cock. You continue your work, tracing your fingers up and down, outlining the contours of my hard, full testicles. You gently tease and examine, luxuriating in the soft flesh of my shaft and foreskin, bending down close to breath in the heavy, sweaty musk of my testicles. You take my shaft between thumb and forefinger and begin to wank me with slow, deliberate, sensuous movements.
You take your time, exploring and luxuriating, discovering this new, curious member of pleasure. I feel you pull back my damp foreskin and carefully examine the hard, dark purple angry glans. You trace your finger right across the paired tip, the tiny opening at the tip of the glans is already swollen and distended. It’s no good, I can’t hold back anymore, I have to give a sign. My right hand traces down the bed and meets your soft, slender left hand. You know, you understand, and meet my sweaty, anxious palm with a reassuring pressure. It’s alright, we are together. You are completely comfortable in what you are doing, and that means so much to me.
You continue to wank me, experimenting with the rhythm and pressure. After a short while, I feel your lips start to trace up and down my shaft, ever so lightly, feeling and measuring my need. You need more. Starting with my testicles, and then moving upwards, you start to apply a series of light, delicate licks and kisses. God that is awesome. I want a more continuous, urgent pressure … and you won’t give it to me. Instead, without picking him up, you place your tender damp lips either side of my now throbbing shaft and work your way upwards. You work your way downwards, and then up again. This is so slow, so tender and intimate, I’ve not known anything remotely like this before. Nothing breaks the still silence of the room but my now laboured breathing. I’m desperate to come, and you know it. All I can do is to flex my hand in yours, harbiye escort where you feel and reciprocate your desire to share this loving gift, this intimate moment.
You take my shaft in your right hand in an upright position and gently rub me up and down between thumb and forefinger. Your fingers are skilled and practised, but it is as though you are rediscovering dormant skills. You take your time as you know how much I need to climax, and you want to prolong our mutual pleasure further. You need not have worried, your touch is exquisite. After a moment’s sublime pause, I feel your long, wet, hot tongue being applied to my angry glans. A few seconds pause, then again. GOD that is incredible…there is a considerable erotic tension between us now.
For the first time I hear your soft voice say ‘Look at me’.
I pause for a moment. I cautiously open my eyes, and am greeted by the sight of you, in your duty uniform, holding me with a calm, wanton stare. After a moment you resume the torture, long, wet, lascivious licks from side to side across my glans, up and down, each one lasting several seconds. One long caress almost brings me over the edge. A little precum spurts out, you gather it up with your tongue before mixing it with a pool of your warm saliva in your mouth, letting it trickle out again onto my glans. It runs down my desperately tense member. You are holding me in an incredible place, a place of unbelievable pleasure, light headed and not completely in control of my own senses. My right hand is clamped to your reassuring palm.
You continue all the while to gaze at me through this lascivious torture, measuring all the while just how much I can take, showing off just how skilled you are, how much you’ve waited for this, how much you want to please me, how much you want me to come in your mouth. You have a further need.
At last, you take the tip of my member into your mouth, slowly and carefully. Very slowly you move your lips down my shaft, being careful not to suck too hard. God, your warm, wet mouth feels incredible. Once you are comfortable you resume eye contact with me. Very slowly, down to the base of my shaft. You hold me there, then very slowly back up again. And ikitelli escort then you start again, building up a slow, regular unhurried rhythm. All the while, you apply a gentle kneading pressure with your right hand around the base of my shaft. This is unbelievable, I have never known anything like it. The slow rhythm is wonderful, you are descending on me no more than 3 or 4 times a minute, in complete control. Finally, you add the final part of your repertoire, more slow, deliberate licks around my glans, all the while holding me in your mouth. And so it goes on ….
You descend your wickedly encircling lips right down to the base of my shaft, completing deepthroating me. Some final, wanton licks bring me over the edge, I can take no more. My whole body shakes, engulfed in a massive, rising orgasm, as my sweat soaked torso attempts to rise from the bed. You know exactly what you are doing, all the while you maintain eye contact with me, and the same rhythmic, firm pressure and the gentle, encircling manipulations of your right hand. My glazed, half-closed eyes are riveted on you. I feel the huge load rise through me as I erupt in a generous, powerful ejaculation. Pulse after pulse of thick, hot semen hits the back of your throat. Still the glorious, joyful pulsing continues. Still you continue your expert manipulations.
My sweat soaked neck collapses back on the damp pillow, my eyes tightly closed, my face gripped by sheer joyful release. You let me recover and catch my breath. At last I open my eyes. You are there, gazing at me as you lick the last drops of semen from your lips, withdrawing your little finger from your mouth in a sucking movement. I make as though to speak, but you draw a single finger across your lips. We continue to gaze at each other for a little while. Your expression is one of tenderness, compassion, and the corner of your mouth is turned in a dry half smile. There is absolutely no regret in your expression, just a serene detached contentment, and awareness and appreciation of my gratitude. It is a moment of true intimacy, two human beings have truly connected with one another in the most profound way.
At last you rearrange my bedclothes around my groin. You rise, and pass me the glass of water from the table. You lean over me, rearranging my pillow. I will sleep well for the first time in weeks. You give me the lightest kiss on the forehead before turning to go to the door. There, you turn to give me a last, cheeky smile, before exiting and closing the door soundlessly behind you.
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