Send.
I set my com unit aside, grab my tablet and stylus, find one of the porn videos from last night, and wrap my hand around my cock. If I’m not getting laid, then I’d better make a damned good attempt to drain my balls dry before I have dinner with Olarte tonight and make a fucking idiot out of myself.
Chapter Eight
Olarte
When I return home from my dinner with Davies, I immediately head for the shower, as is my normal routine.
Except today, instead of thinking about my day while I bathe, or what will happen tomorrow, I think about…him.
Davies.
That is definitelynotusual for me.
What is even less usual is when thinking about Davies and recalling our evening spent together once again stirs urges within me in a way no other human ever has before.
Now, however, I am alone, and in my shower, and can take care of those urges. I reach down and cup one hand over the front of my pouch, and with the other I free my cock and slowly stroke.
Normally when I feel the urge to masturbate, I have no specific thought or person in mind.
Tonight, Davies is the absolute focus of my fantasies.
I take my time, savoring this new emotional sensation, which only intensifies the physical sensations. Once I was through my initial period of reaching maturity, I thought I would no longer feel deep, visceral urges like this.
Apparently, I was wrong.
It is not a mating heat, yet it feels almost like a craving that the strength of which unsettles me.
If I feel this way about a human I just met, does it mean it is possible to feel this way about someone else of my kind?
Or does it mean I am not meant to be with one of my kind?
Closing my eyes allows me to recall Davies’ face, to better remember his voice.
And I am to have dinner with him again tomorrow night.
I slow my strokes, squeezing my fingers around the shaft of my cock near the base to hold back my release. This moment is too good to waste on a fast orgasm, the pleasure of which will fade too quickly after spilling.
Obviously, Davies is interested in me sexually. Perhaps itistime I give serious consideration to exploring a casual sex contract.
Would he even sign one, is another question.
Maybe if he is as interested in me as he claims to be, he would.
I lose track of time as I pleasure myself in a way I never truly have before. Usually when I masturbate I do it quickly, to get it over with.
Amazed, I lean against the shower wall and pretend it is not my own hands on my body. I wonder what Davies’ mouth would feel like around my cock, what his cock would taste like.
I wonder how he would moan if I bit down on his shoulder and envenomated him the way our kind does.
I pretend he begs me to bite him, to claim him as my own, to—
The strain is too much for me to hold back. I choke back my cry of pleasure as I orgasm and my cum spurts from my cock to spatter all over the shower wall.
Winded, I linger there long after the physical echoes of my release have faded.
That leaves the emotional echoes still pulsing strong, throbbing through me.
