Blue Sky

by Matt Triewly

Preface

2015-09-03


I open my eyes. I have been awake for a while. Fantasising about being beaten. Being abused. I am aroused. Stiff.

I look through the window which is partially open. Above the houses in the street beyond the sky is a deep blue.

My bladder is full. I pull the covers off me and swing my legs out and off the bed. I am naked. I stand up and walk towards the door. My penis is still erect. I feel a cool breeze blow gently across my exposed flesh kind of like a kiss. It doesn't make me shiver but it does remind me that autumn is on its way. It smells like autumn too. Autumn already?

I wonder if I will get a chance to go swimming in the sea again before winter sets in. I vow that I will. The seasons will not cheat me yet.

I enjoy swimming. Not just the sensuous experience of it - the pull of muscle and the flow of cool water over my body - but the mild danger of it. Distant from the shore. Out of my depth. Cramps. Overwhelmed by the waves. Exhaustion. Heart attack. Stroke. Hit by a boat. I need a little risk in my life. A little. Not a lot.

I pad along the hallway to the bathroom. I can hear the missus moving around in the lounge getting ready for work. I swing open the door and stand in front of the bowl. I release a powerful jet of piss that hisses as it hits the side of the white porcelain. Relief. Pleasure is the discharge of tension. Freud.

I walk back along the wooden floor of the hallway. I am flaccid now. I go back in the bedroom and flop back down on the bed. I feel a little weary though I have slept well. Soundly.

I turn my head to the window. The sky is still blue. Like it was the day I first met her. Over two decades ago. Early summer. Cloudless. Hot. Sweltering.

Long curly chestnut hair hanging to half way down her back. Slender and pale yet toned arms gently speckled with small moles - she was wearing a sleeveless top. Shapely legs shown off to the mid-point of her thighs - she had a short skirt. Average height. Nice tits. Early to mid-thirties. Yeah, she had a good figure. A great figure.

Round face. Big blue eyes. Turned up button nose. High cheek bones. Wide thin lipped mouth. Strong chin. Beautiful? No. Ugly? No. Interesting? The kind of face you couldn't stop looking at? Yes.

It would be a while before I'd date her. When I did it was a tale of lust, love, kinky desires, betrayal, anger, remorse, heart break. My love for her nearly killed me too.

That night, still hot, when I'd been in bed I'd masturbated to the vision of me naked and lying face down on the bed with her kneeling over me and caning my naked buttocks really hard. It was an incredibly gratifying fantasy and I hadn't taken long to come. Immediately afterwards I had rolled over on to my stomach relishing the onset of sleep. As I had drifted off I could feel the warm spunk soaking into the sheet. I kind of liked that too.

Yeah, that was a while back. I'll tell you a little more next time.

I resign myself to the fact that I won't go back to sleep now. I get up and open the door to the lounge. It smells of perfume and deodorant. My missus is there with a mirror in one hand and eyeliner in the other.

She sees me and says, "You're up early."

"I couldn't sleep once you got up," I reply.

I go over to her and kiss her on the cheek. I love her. I really do.

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