Wednesday, 3 April 2013

The Quiet Life

A snippet of my short story The Quiet Life.


The water hisses down. His hand rests against the hot stone of the wall. His head is hanging and droplets of water falls from his hair, rolling down his nose. At first, he merely stands there: naked and steady, his mouth slightly ajar, his eyes staring into nothingness. But then his hand falls down between his legs and he starts massaging his prick. He does it until he comes and in the moment it is good, dirty, sexy. But when it’s over he stands there, in silence, and watches the semen slither down the wall.

No comments:

Post a Comment