5. October 16 - Wilder

Ishove my rolled-up tent and camping supplies under the queen-sized guest bed and throw my duffle bag on top of the pink floral comforter with green accents. It looks like a Laura Ashley display room threw up in here, but it's warm and homey with a little oak dresser in the corner and an old-fashioned alarm clock on a small nightstand.

There are a few pictures around the room. I recognize Savannah's mother from the speed dating event. If the rumors are true about women turning out like their mothers, I'm almost sorry this won't be a long-term thing. Judging by her mother, whoever ends up with Savannah will be a lucky man.

I unzip my duffle bag and get my socks and underwear out, walking them to the dresser and tossing them inside. I said I'd vacuum. I didn't say my drawers were going to be neat.

I felt bad lying to her about making that contract up after our meeting. In fact, that contract has been a work in progress since 2017, and I make a mental note to include a blurb in future years that says I won't touch my partner's toiletries or bubble bath without permission. I'm sure 2024 will be appreciative of that the way 2019 appreciated the toilet paper blurb after 2018 raked me over the coals about the proper way to hang it.

Savannah also didn't flinch at the remark that I may not come home sometimes. That's a necessary blurb. A man has needs, and I've never had a hard time getting them met. Women at bars are more than accommodating to sucking me off or letting me spend the night if Savannah and I don't have that kind of relationship. I have that bad boy vibe with a constant cigarette hanging out of my mouth and my usual mug of beer in hand. I've never been a one-woman guy, but I'm not trying to be disrespectful to my cuffing season partners. Then again, 2021 liked to watch me with other women, especially her friends. I still remember that year fondly.

Personally, I'd love to slide myself between Savannah's legs and see if I can open her up in more ways than one. She seems so closed off, like she needs a night of hot sex and fun so she can live a little.

"Settling in?" she asks, knocking on the door frame and looking around the room. I adjust my dick behind the duffle bag since the thought of being between her legs has it twitching for attention. Thankfully, she doesn't notice and probably thinks I'm just rifling through an outside pocket.

"I think so. My camping supplies are under the bed, and I have plenty of room for clothes. Are you staying here today?"

She shakes her head. "I'm heading to work. Are you staying today?"

She works her lips when she asks it, and I can tell she's not comfortable leaving me alone in her apartment yet. "I need to go look for work. I'll probably have something by the end of the day, but I may be late."

"Do you want me to leave the door unlocked?" she asks.

"No, I'll just wait for you outside and watch Netflix if I beat you back."

We stare at each other for a few seconds, and she wrings her hands. There's an awkwardness here, and I know I'm responsible for it. I know we'll get past it over the next few days. At least, that's how it's worked in the past. She's just shaken from me springing the contract on her, and she's not used to having a man in her personal space.

She looks around the room, nods, and leaves without saying a word. "Mind if I take a shower before I go?" I call after her. My dick needs attention, and I'm sure not jerking off in her flowery bed.

"Go ahead. Towels are on the top shelf of the linen closet. Lock up when you leave. I need to go. I think I'll take a walk before work."

The apartment door slams as she leaves, and I grab my toiletry bag. I'm sure her shampoo is lovely and expensive, but I'm a simple man and don't want to smell like a woman's shampoo. Opening her linen closet, I about gag again. Not one manly towel in sight. Floral and pink are everywhere, and I grab a solid dark pink towel which is the manliest option in the cabinet.

Beggars can't be choosers, though. I make a mental note to get a black towel at my next Target stop and reach over to start the water.

Steam fills the room, and the sound of rushing water fills my ears. Looking down, my dick is at full mast with the thought of Savannah and that guest bed. I haven't seen her bed yet since she's been protective of her bedroom, but I cross my fingers that her bed is something more neutral if I'm ever lucky enough to see it.

I step into the bathtub with a shower attachment and draw the curtain, letting the warm water run down my body. I'll get to the fun stuff in a minute, but I wash my hair first, taking time to scrub my scalp and leaning my head back so the suds run down my shoulders.

As soon as my hair is clean, I put one hand on the white tile wall and close my eyes as I run my other hand down my abdomen to my dick bobbing just below my belly button. I grip it at the base and squeeze up until my hand slides off the tip. I move back down and rub my balls and the underside of my cock until I hit the frenulum, wishing my finger was a tongue hitting that special little spot.

I rotate between the movements of rubbing my balls, rubbing the frenulum, and squeezing my cock from base to tip. But something isn't getting me there.

Is it because I'm in a new place? Is it like trying to sleep the first night in a hotel? I need a little help, and I open the shower curtain, looking around the room for assets. Maybe she has some nice lotion or something that can give me a little more glide.

Nothing. She probably keeps the lotion in her room. I reach over to the medicine cabinet by the shower and take a look, only finding toothpaste, toothbrush, vitamins, and a half-empty bottle of liquid cold medicine. I raise an eyebrow at the cold medicine, tempted but coming to the conclusion that I'd never forgive myself if I jerk off with cold medicine. Even I have my limits.

I put both hands against the tile, frustrated as fuck. My dick begs for release and throbs between my legs, my balls tightening uncomfortably. "I know, dude. I'm trying to help," I mumble at my dick. It's not the first time I've talked to him, but this is the first time I've been so turned on, only to have him not get the job done.

I look down again, and my eyes fall on a poufy sponge thing. Every woman I've cuffed with has had these things, but I've never used one. What would this feel like on my cock?

I gingerly unravel it from the suction cup hook attached to the wall and stare at it a moment. It feels nice enough in my hand and softer than I imagined by looking at it. I move it between my fingers. Hmm. Downright decadent.

I look around and find her body wash. Flipping it open, I inhale deeply, closing my eyes as the scent of cucumbers and mint fill my nose. Not bad, and not too girly. I could use this on my dick. It's not like another bro is going to be close enough to my cock to judge me for it.

My dick makes the decision for me. He's angry, red, and practically trembling against me.

I squirt some bodywash on Savannah's pouf and swirl it in a smiley face design, giggling to myself. Hey, it's the little things that make life bearable. I cap the bodywash and set it back on her shower caddy the way I think it was left. Damn, I should have remembered how she had it set. Upside down? Righted? If she asks, I can tell her I knocked it over and picked it up.

I grip my balls with one hand and massage them the way I like as I bring the pouf and bodywash to my cock.

Shit, this feels nice. The bodywash is cool temperature-wise, but the mint brings a nice tingle. It also must have some kind of moisturizer in it because it mixes with the hot water to glide up and down my cock like a warm, wet pussy.

I close my eyes and lean my head on the tile, water running down my face and shoulders as I massage myself and jerk my dick with Savannah's shower stuff. Thoughts of Savannah enter my head. I bet her pussy smells like this cucumber mint after she's out of the shower. What I wouldn't give to see the water run down her body and have her touching me like this. I imagine her working my cock over and whispering for me to lose my shit in her shower before she drops to her knees and takes me into her mouth.

"Fuck, Savannah," I grunt, unable to concentrate on anything but her. Her hair. Her skin. Her lips. "Suck that cock. You like being on that dick? Tasting it?" I coo to the void.

I quicken my pace, the pouf sliding nicely over me with just a bit of scratch to it. The scratch reminds me of teeth, which I actually like during oral sex in moderation, and I throw my head back, taking a face full of water. My mouth opens in pleasure, and I moan loudly. Who cares? She left for work, and this pouf feels so good. I need to get one of these for myself. It's perfect if there's not a willing mouth in the vicinity. "Savannah," I groan.

Pleasure moves through my core, and my toes curl into the porcelain tub. My lips tremble. My stomach clenches, pulling me forward, and heat warms my entire body. My sack tightens and trembles in my hand as I unload my balls into the pouf and down the drain. I haven't orgasmed this hard in months, and it takes almost half a minute to empty and stop shaking.

"That's it. Clean me up, you dirty little whore," I mumble, running the pouf over my cock a few more times. "Lick my balls and get that ass nice and clean, baby."

I run the pouf over my balls and all the way to my taint and asshole. Oh, this is nice. Every man should have one of these. I need to tell Gus to get one.

I hang the pouf back on the hook and bring my hand to my lips, kiss my finger, and place the air kiss on the pouf, even giving it a naughty wink. "Even if your owner doesn't want to participate, we'll always have each other. This can be our dirty secret."

Turning the water off, I open the shower curtain, wrap the pink towel around my hips, and gasp. I'm still alone in the bathroom, but a shadow moves under the door and the floor creaks as someone walks slowly down the hallway like they're backing away from the bathroom door. Either we're being robbed and the robber took an interest in my jerk off session, or Savannah forgot her lunch box.