Wednesday, 11 May 2016

Crotchscream

I rolled over in my state of semiconsciousness and tried, for the umpteenth time, to ignore the fact that my crotch was shouting, at the top of its non-existent voice, at my brain.

It had all worked so well yesterday: the morning horniness, the absent girlfriend, the erection. Half an hour of Pokémon Y followed by 45 minutes of gentle masturbation - coaxing myself towards orgasm without putting a timer on it, or any stress. I got to work well in time, did my thing and then went home, caught up on the sleep I'd been missing and then ended the day making my girlfriend laugh with my penis (she appears to enjoy watching it grow and shrink; it's a mystery).

Or, at least, I thought I caught up on sleep. Last night I barely got any at all, as I appear to have - at a most unfortunate time - caught That Bug That's Been Going Around, and my attempts to sleep were punctuated by random sneezes, coughs in groups of four, and random gropes for scraps of tissue off the bedside table (not to mention my girlfriend's requests for her drink, which seem predestined to happen exactly at the point where I've just fallen asleep).

I'm sexy and I know it.

So this morning, once she'd left for work and I had a couple of hours to myself before dragging my weary, wheezing, sniffly, infectious body to work, I rolled over and drifted off into a semi-restful slumber, as opposed to the excitement of Mega Evolution and Foreskin Manipulation that had happened yesterday morning. Five-thirty and I had to get up at eight-thirty, right? That's three hours of something approximating sleep. I could use that.

My penis was NOT HAPPY.

"How dare you?" it screamed. "I'm RIGHT HERE, and I'm REALLY HARD, and you're just going to roll over and leave me alone?" (To be fair, it's probably still hurt about the fact that, when I was 14, I used to deal with erection by curling up into the foetal position and hoping it would just go away.) "Touch me, already!"
Me being the irritating git I am, I turned over, squashing my penis against the mattress, using the increased throb as a kind of metronome to aid my breathing, sending me back to sleep... until I woke up to cough and the entire cycle started all over again.

"Oh, hey, I see you're awake. Why not have an orgasm? I'm right here!"
"Mmmmmmmhrrrrrrrrrm..."
*rolls over* 
*silence*
"Hmm, hmm. Cough, wheeze, croak."
*rolls over*
"Hey, stranger! You're awake again! It's never too late, big guy!"
"Mmmmmmmhrrrrrrrrrm..."

Fortunately, though, in the end I did manage to get to sleep...

...on the bus at nine.

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