Helping Hands

Now you’re at home, 24/7, you really don’t have much to do. Mom asks you to help in the kitchen, or around the house, but you manage to wriggle your way out of it. Sometimes you help, but how much can one engage in an already occupied territory?

Netflix, yeah. Prime, sure, why not. Throw in a few YouTube videos too. Social media seems to have taken up the greatest slice though. Everyone’s throwing back, or asking you to ask them things.

Okay, fuck it. You know all this. You also know what you really, really want to do.

When you first discovered it, you were unsure of what it was. You loved to do it back then, taking your time out to choose the perfect video, watching a few light videos as foreplay, building up to the most intense video…. but then life happened. You didn’t have anymore time, things became hectic. But now…. you have time now, to rediscover, to bring back lost feelings…

It felt damn good, didn’t it? that new found energy surging, gushing through your hands as you fight through the pain for that one moment, those intense heat flushes that spread through from that spot down there, the heat that sizzles over your face and your neck. You picture a lover, or a crush, or a crush turned lover- your bodies close, chest and stomach that stick from all the sweat, pressure increasing, just that position, just that very motion, in that very fucking position, Yes that fucking spot yes, oh fuck, fuck, fuck, yes!

Your body arches, your skin stretching to expose that peeping rib cage, the tip of your head piercing the pillow. Your breath, held. You’re at the tip, you’re at the point, peak.fucking.top.

And then its over.

You’re back to your four walls, a locked door and window, a creaking fan. Satisfied, for the moment, but sad. You think of the lover, or the crush, or the crush turned lover you haven’t seen for a while now, you miss them, their soft skin, the way they would look at you, how you would have exhausted on to their shoulder right now and then engaged in some soft kissing, maybe cracked a joke, maybe fallen asleep. You miss their touch.

You sigh, stare at the fan slicing through the air above you. It’s time to go take a shower.