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Chapter 2 by rob goodfellow rob goodfellow

Is anyone home?

No one is home

As you enter your apartment, you scan the room. The lights are on, but no one is there. She must have come and gone already.

"Damn," you mutter aloud, "kinda wish she was here."

What you don't say is how you wish she was here, spread eagle on the couch getting drilled by one of her many fuck buddies. Imagining it, you can see some random stranger pinning her legs back against the couch as he slams into her savagely. She always looked like the type to like it rough. In your mind, Roxanne's fingers are clamp tightly around her nipples. She bites her lip before reaching her hands between her legs to pull him even further into her. She's screaming for more, begging him to fuck her harder...

Your burgeoning erection brings you out of your daydream. Only at half-mast, and you're already adjusting yourself.

"Fuck it." You tell yourself. "She's not here, might as well take care of this little problem." Setting your things down on the bar area overlooking the kitchen, you start to loosen your tie. Kicking off shoes as you enter your room, you wonder how long she'll be gone.

Staring back into the living room, you realize it would be a shame not to take advantage of your solitude. After all, why watch porn on your computer when your perplexingly huge TV is right there?

Do you have time to indulge your "dinner and a show" approach? Or do you play it safe and head into your bedroom? Maybe even go extra safe and retire to your shower before resuming the fantasy in your head?

Couch? Bedroom? Shower?

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