Wednesday, 4 October 2017


Of all the phenomena that have a tendency to occur immediately following sexual activity, one of the more frequent - and, as an insomniac, can be one of the most useful, is that of post-masturbation sleepiness. Your body needs to recharge after orgasm; the longer it takes before you do, the more you will feel tired afterwards. It usually takes me a while to orgasm, especially when I'm bringing myself off, so I sometimes slip into a semi-dreamlike state immediately afterwards.

It's inconvenient that I then have to get up and clean myself. I'd gladly fall fast asleep while still covered in my own cum - I'm just not sure the person with whom I share my bed would take the same view. I may also end up making a mess of the bedsheets, but I guess that's what a washing machine's for...

I had a few hours off work this afternoon. Finishing at 2pm (well, running an errand for work, but I left at 2:30); back in at 6. With a couple of hours to kill, I headed for home. When I got there, I found my room empty, and bed practically begging to be lay upon. Off went my socks, broken shoes, jumper... and then my shirt, my trousers and my new(ish) pair of pants (although I kept my socks on [yes, I am that classy]). I settled back, stretched out all the tension in my limbs...

Thirty minutes later and my shaft was pulsing a steady beat against my palm, my thumb and index finger still wrapped tightly around the head. I'd come so hard that some of it had managed to hit my chest. I got my neck once, but this wasn't so bad either. Mindful of the time, I sat up, grabbed some serviettes that I'd picked up from Costa this morning (yes...), wiped myself down (including my chest), and rolled over onto my side, breathing heavily.

I wasn't sleepy.

Yes, I'd had an orgasm - and yes, a very potent one. Yet I just wasn't tired. I'd missed that little window of opportunity, using it to clean up. I was aware, yes, that I needed to get back to work at six, but nevertheless, I was surprised at how quickly the soporific effect of orgasmic release had vanished. It was almost as if it hadn't happened at all.

I was right, of course. It just hadn't happened... yet.

Back up. Pants on. Trousers. Shirt. Jumper. Shoes (the ones that aren't broken this time). Sling bag over shoulder. Brisk walk to the bus stop. It was colder, and darker, by this point. What happened to summer? I tend to forget.

The bus came along and I went to sit down (a little gingerly, truth be told, as my cock was still feeling the after-effects...). This was relaxing, I decided. Very relaxing. In fact, it was the comfiest I'd felt all day...


I awoke just in time to stagger off the bus and down the road to work. I sat through the staff meeting with huge bags under my eyes and a haze of tiredness creeping from every pore. But at least I wasn't still covered in cum. I hope.

No comments: