The crystalline sun stabbed through the curtains making a sorry confession that it was indeed morning.
"Is there much?" I ask, my voice drugged by sleep.
"About an inch," he replies. His head is poking through the curtains which frame his face like long hippy hair. A pasty bottom sticks out with fur around his cheeks and the sight brings a smile to my face.
The statement makes me ponder and wonder what an inch would feel like. An inch of this hard, kidskin encased cock in my mouth, allowing my tongue to tease and stroke it in mouth watering excitement. An inch of his tongue in my pussy, coaxing juices and shy orgasms from between my lips. An inch of his thick finger up my arse, exciting forbidden senses; making me buck and writhe.
Stretching and insinuating myself between the covers, I squeeze my thighs together in an attempt to simulate the physical yearning of my wanton thoughts. My smooth, doughy thighs; warm and responsive to the touch. I lie in my snug cocoon, wanting to be invaded and used. Desiring with my soul to discover what one inch will feel like in all of its various forms. My lusty need building and rising slowly within me, developing into a near wolverine primal craving.
Idly scratching your rear and sniffing you grumble, "Fucking white shit, I hate the snow. Makes work difficult. Hell, I'm late already and this just makes it worse."
Turning away to go to the bathroom you catch my eye and are puzzled by my expression. I feel the tension within me ebb away, replaced by a corrosive disappointment eroding my heart.
"You ok?" you yawn, scraping at your balls.
Rolling onto my front and burrowing my head in a drift of pillows to disguise and protect you from my feelings; I mutter, "I'm fine, just tired."
Accepting this at face value regardless of its plastic and disposable nature, you grunt and stalk off to empty your bladder.
About An Inch - Audio
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This weeks country for my writing challenge is Singapore