Burning for You: DILF Fantasizes About His Roommate
The auburn-haired man runs a hand down the gentle dip between his pecs and softly groans in frustration. When his fingers come away wet with sweat, he longs for someone to be pressed against him. Even in this heat, wants the comfort of a warm body- not necessarily his wife’s.
He should be able to sleep, since Bella’s gone to stay at her sister’s and taken the kids. But he’s wide awake, alone in this cavernous house and feeling positively feral as he walks the halls naked.
On a January night, he could be deliciously naked under an afghan, while sitting before a roaring fire with a tumbler of whiskey. Tonight, it’s August, and his body is sheened with sweat despite his nakedness…and the central air. He blames his nerves.
Not long after they moved in, Bella was with him under the blanket. He slid inside her so easily, and her full breasts were perfectly warm against his chest. He can still remember the taste of whiskey on her mouth, and the feeling of her soft hands in his wavy hair.
And yet, his most erotic memory is of a man he left behind.
Josh retreats to a sparsely furnished spare room, the quietest place in the house. There he lounges on the bed with a cold beer resting on the end table, and contemplates the cigarette in his hand: it satisfies him perfectly even as it destroys him. He lets out a puff of breath. White smoke rises around his head and shoulders, curling like filigree on his bare flesh. Now that he’s alone, he can take a secret pleasure in his body, pale in the glow of the TV. His muscles have softened a bit since he got married, but he’s still kept in trim shape and keeps his hair and skin well-groomed. His shoulders and chest are still broad, his legs still powerful.
As he puts his cigarette to his lips, he bites it to hold it in place, and his hands stray to his chest again. With a careful motion, he flicks his thumbs and forefingers over his nipples and tilts his head back to gaze at the ceiling. It’s so good, a shudder ebbing through the oppressive humidity that surrounds him. Fuck, if only it could last longer. The woody air from his cigarette stutters in his lungs, and he coughs- then hastily stubs out his cigarette to try again.
Flick, flick, flick. Now his nipples are hard and pointing prettily, straining under his touch. Remembering that first night with his college roommate, Nick, never fails to harden his cock, too. “Do whatever you want to me,” he says in a breathy moan none of his friends would recognize. “Fuck, I can’t stand it, I need you so bad.”
When he stretches on the bed, he can almost feel another man’s olive skin under his hands: smooth and velvety. No matter how hot it got in LA, they never noticed- as long as they were holding one another.
There was a time he knew every centimeter of Nick’s perfect body, from the dark hair on his chest to the little beauty mark beside his left eye. Josh loved to kiss that mark. Kneeling on the spare bed, Josh places the pillow before him and aligns his hips against it. With the cigarette’s poison still on his lips, he thrusts against the pillow and feels the first drops of wetness escape him. The sound of Nick’s voice still echoes in his head: “I want you inside me. Don’t you want to know what it’s like, Josh?”
Relaxation seeps into his veins, and he revels in being alone. No one can see his release, and he’s free to be as lustful as he likes. Even brutish, as Nick screams for him to ride him harder. His thrusts against the pillow grow faster, but the fabric is still cool against his swelling cock and balls. There, in the mirror across from the bed, he catches a glimpse of his reflection, blissed out with the memory of Nick heavy in his veins. He hasn’t spoken to Nick in years, but wonders- would Nick still find him handsome? Arrogant, perhaps? Bending forward, Josh steadies his hands on the footboard. His strong thighs keep him upright, and he can almost feel how they used to tighten with Nick’s body underneath him.
If he concentrates on the tightness, he can almost see his lover’s face, just a hint away from pretty. It’s as if his dreams are spread out before him and oh god, he’s so close. If he could just kiss that mouth, one final time. Shutting his eyes, he lets a memory overtake him: those pouting lips covering his mouth. Their bodies becoming one, and the heat rushing over them both as Nick is buried inside him…..at this, his hands leap up from the pillow, and grasp where they’re needed most.
Pearly ropes shoot from his cock and glide over his fingertips as he arches his back, straining his neck. It barely registers that his own voice is the one crying: Ohhh- oh…oh! like a porn queen. All he can feel is this electric pulse running through his body, leaving him shuddering as he rises to a place higher and greater than his loneliness. It takes what feels like hours for him to come down. When he does, he opens his eyes to see himself slouched on the rumpled bed.
“I need to get my shit together,” Josh mutters.
The lights in the house are faint, falling softly on him as he finishes his drink and takes a long pull on his last cigarette of the evening. But fainter still is his hope- that the one he longs for might be thinking of him too.
Thanks for reading! Follow me here or on Twitter. I look forward to your feedback.
