Sunday, 27 January 2008

Nightline

It's 2 AM, and I'm lying in bed, hard.

It's been a long, busy and enjoyable day and, despite passing quickly past Amora during my time out in central London, I haven't thought about sex much, if at all (innuendo-related jokes with my friends aside, of course). Now I'm back at home, in total silence - everyone else is asleep - darkness, relaxation and the softness of my bed, I find myself horny. And I haven't even considered sex.
I'm too tired to move, too tired to even consider moving my hand to anywhere near my penis, so I curl up into a little ball. It's throbbing against my stomach. I readjust myself, holding it between my thighs so it looks for a little while like I haven't got one and have, for some reason, become a girl. But that stimulates it even more. I clutch my stuffed bunny rabbit to my chest - not like I'm going to violate him; he's a bunny, not a sex toy - and roll about helplessly in my bed. Eventually, my erection melts away, and I manage to get comfortable enough.

I'm lying awake, my insomnia unremitting, but I feel relaxed and sleepy. I'm just thinking that I may well be able to get to sleep, when thoughts of text I saw on LiveJournal over four years ago leap into my mind:
...at some points I just felt I needed a penis inside me
...i need someone for kinky sex
...we fucked a lot; it ruled
...he is a great shag
...i felt it slide into me and gave a shiver of lustful pleasure
Basically, I can't stop these lines running through my head. Before, I know it, I'm hard again. Blood's rushing through my body at a tremendous rate. "I'm too tired for this," I think. But there's nothing I can do about it. At 2:30 AM, I lack the mental capacity for willing myself towards other thoughts (although sex at that time... that, I can do). I turn over, lying flat on my stomach and chest, my hands spread out, my hard penis pressed against the bed sheet, almost like I'm in the missionary position. This hurts my penis, which seems to need either air or a hole to slip into. Since it's not getting either, it reverts to its natural state.

It's now 3 AM, and for no reason whatsoever, I'm lying on my side, feeling anxious. I'm tense, unrelaxed, fractious. I get itchy prickles running down my back. I kick out in my bed, rubbing my legs together rapidly. Eventually, I tire myself out. I spread my whole body out in a cross, my king-size bed barely accommodating my long limbs and tall body. I'm lying on my back, breathing heavily, my long dark hair sprawled out on the pillow behind my head, gazing up at the ceiling.

But at least I'm not hard any more. And it only took me one hour to forget about sex so that I could sleep.

Oh, ILB... what are we going to do with you?

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