My Entry For The Back-To Dethklok Mini Fic Rare-Pair-A-Thon Thing
Where The Light Don’t Shine
Charles Foster Ofdenson loved lamps. Now by loved I mean “had an extreme sexual fascination” for them. His collection was the largest and most impressive, probably because no one else was so disturbingly infatuated, in existence.
He had floor lamps, desk lamps, hanging lamps and even novelty lamps; he could thank Nathan for those atrocities. He had lamps from Tiffany and Co., custom made lamps from countries he’d never been to, and even lamps from Ikea. Those were mostly saved now in case there was another “lamps party.”
Now someone in his position, with such an interesting kink, had to go to great lengths to keep that secret well hidden. He kept all of his beloved lamps in a specially built room, all 374 of them. Temperature controlled, dust resistant, and each lamp had a special container where they were securely held into place to prevent any damage.
Every night after work Charles would enter his special room and carefully select a lamp that would provide his entertainment for that night. He’d retire to his private quarters, shower, clean the lamp thoroughly and prepare himself for the evenings activities.
Now Charles was not a stupid man, and he knew that he had to be especially careful when using such an item the way he did. Remove the lamp shade first followed by the light bulb, carefully remove the harp, the lamp socket, and unscrew the base; it was always easier to use the build-it-yourself models. With nothing but the body of the lamp left, he would begin.
He would lick the lamp starting from the bottom, then move his way up to the top where he’d slide the first few inches into his hot awaiting mouth. The metallic taste always sent shivers down his spine. He would grasp it with one hand, and stroke himself with the other and moan quite lewdly as the object would slide in and out between his slick lips.
Once he couldn’t take the wait any longer, he would carefully set the object aside and grab a bottle of lube to prepare himself. Now the lamp he often choose for these nights was not enormously thick, nothing compared to the average male’s cock, but it was just enough to do the job while still giving him a satisfying "full" feeling.
Though there was never any danger of contracting STD’s, and he’d always cleaned everything thoroughly when he was finished, he still always used a condom to prevent getting cuts. That was something he never wanted to explain to any doctor.
After slipping the condom on, and re-lubing himself and the lamp, he would begin the tedious process of sliding it into his body. It was the same thing every time, take many deep breaths, count backwards from 50, and try not to come immediately once he felt the hard, heavy metal settled so deep in his body.
Charles would completely lose himself in the act. Between the sensation of the cold object buried in his ass, rubbing heavily against his prostate, and thrusting into his own hot hand, he never lasted long.
Every night he would come, back arching off of the sheets, one hand pumping his pulsing cock while the other shoved the object in one last time.
Charles never waited long afterwards. He would quickly clean up, put the lamp back together, and get ready for bed. In the morning he would return back to his normal, professional self as if he hadn’t just fucked his brains out with lamp the night before. The lamp would rest on the night stand by his bed and be returned the next evening in exchange for a different one.
It was a strange desire that he had for those things, something that he himself did not fully understand. He had always associated light with warmth and safety, and he supposed that might have had something to do with this strange kink, but he never dwelled on it too long every night before succumbing to sleep. Not before turning on his lamp shaped night light of course.
THE END