Missing you...
While Chris went out today, I guess he went to talk to Hugh, I went upstairs and requisitioned some speakers and a decent stereo system. We need some music in that house. So I came back and he still wasn't home, so I set up the speakers and the stereo on either side of the living room. I put the subwoofer between the two speakers in the center of the room and popped in a Stabbing Westward CD.
I've always liked Chris' singing voice. It can be soft and seductive or loud and angry, depending on the song, but it always expresses his feelings. I like that. I like that a lot.
So I cranked the stereo up and laid down on the floor in front of the subwoofer, the bass of the songs carrying into me, his songs filling our cabin. Sometimes it would get so loud I felt like his voice was being pounded into my skin, and he was filling me with it. It was a feeling I liked.
So often I am the possessor with him. I suppose that's because of his previous relationships and he's never had anyone be possessive of him before, but I am. He's mine.
'Inside you,' started to play. I love that song. It's one of the songs where his voice is low and seductive and I just want to climb inside of him. Hell, I want to climb inside of him most of the time, but this song really just brings that part of me out.
That's when I noticed that my pants were becoming painfully constrictive. Very painfully constrictive. I reached down to readjust myself and hissed. It was one of those erections that wasn't going to go away, not on its' own, not unless I took care of things or Chris came home very soon.
I waited on the floor for a few minutes, rubbing my palm over the crotch of my pants as I waited. I needed him home right now and he wasn't here.
Finally I got off the floor and stripped out my clothes as I walked over to our bed, and the nightstand that had the oil on it. I didn't need lube, didn't always use it, but this time I wanted it. Maybe Chris would come home and we wouldn't want to wait to get the lube. Alright, I know I wouldn't. I'd want to be in him and I know it makes it easier on him if we use it.
I started warming it up in my hands as I walked back to my spot in front of the subwoofer. I liked it there, I could feel all the vibrations in that spot plus Chris' voice and God... he has a sexy voice. Quickly rolling the lid off the vial I poured some out on both of my hands and stretched back out on the floor.
The CD player switched to another song. 'You complete me,' it sounded like. A good song for me and Chris and I shut my eyes, imagining he was there with me as I slid my hand down my stomach and grasped my cock, oily fingers sliding over the tip first, teasingly as I saw him in my mind. He was naked, kneeling at my feet, watching me with those wide eyes as I stroked myself.
He's got gorgeous eyes. Gorgeous everything if you ask me, but particularly gorgeous eyes.
And I can see him looking up at me with those eyes, lips slightly parted, his tongue darting out to lick along his lower lip, as my fingers wrap around my length and I start stroking faster. I need to come, but I need him more, I realize as I spread my thighs, reaching under my leg to gently touch my puckered opening. It's been so long since anyone, including myself, has touched there. Been so long since I had a cock there and I want one now, I want Chris's cock as I spread the oil across my flesh, my strokes slowing as I ease the first of my fingers inside myself.
"Chris," I moan, still pretending he's there. Watching me. Watching me stroke and finger myself and I'm so lost in the fantasy and his music that I don't hear the cabin door opening.
It takes me a few minutes before I can get my finger all the way in, it feels strange, different. It's been too long, but I quickly find a rhythm between stroking and fucking myself, and it's not much longer before I can get my second finger inside of me.
And I can still see him on his knees in front of me, watching and I'm struck by the thought of preparing myself for him. I wonder if he'd like to see that sometime. Me on my hands and knees with my fingers up my own ass, stretching and lubing myself so that he can fuck me, and that thought makes my cock twitch in my hand.
The song switches again to 'Waking up beside you,' and both of my hands move faster, and I finally hit that spot within my body that I know will make this even better and god, it does. My body arches up off the floor and I stroke faster, I need to come, have to, and I do, spurting over my own hand to the sound of Chris' voice in my ears and his name on my lips.
I lay there, panting, my eyes still shut tight as I ease my fingers out of me. I release my cock slowly and rub my fingers through my own come before lifting them up to my lips and tasting them. Chris seems to like the taste and I can tell why as I bring my hand back down to clean up more of it.
When I'm done, I finally open my eyes, the song ending and Chris is standing in the doorway.