In A Blur Of Serenity
folder
Drama › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
3
Views:
1,033
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Drama › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
3
Views:
1,033
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction and any semblance to peoples or scenarios, real or imaginary, is purely coincidental. All characters and situations in this piece are my property and were entirely invented by me.
She Shines
A/N: What can I say, writing’s almost as addictive as nicotine. Here’s another chapter.
Isaac wandered off the coach slowly, Barnes trailing shortly behind him. Aberforth, where they had arrived, was a short walk from Balmyrno, but Barnes was eager to get there before sunset, so they disembarked almost immediately. Barnes had a heavy-looking suitcase with him, so Isaac deliberately kept a slow pace so he wouldn’t over-exert himself.
It was late when they arrived in Balmyrno, but the sun had not yet set. Although Isaac had intended to keep his promise to Barnes and stay in The Salty Seaman, he first made his way to another local inn, The Cock’s Head, where Marcus had said he was staying. Isaac approached the receptionist, a small, cute girl with green eyes and red hair, and asked what room number Marcus Atlas was occupying. The woman turned to the computer, which was whirring loudly and looked like it was made a decade ago, and checked the surname.
“I’m sorry, sir, there’a no record of that surname in our database.”
Isaac frowned. Marcus had definitely said The Cock’s Head. Pulling out his iPhone to call Marcus and ask, he was quickly disappointed to see that Barnes’ concerns were justified and there was indeed no signal in Balyrmo, with the connection strength reporting absolute zero. Isaac sighed, thanked the receptionist - who was called Miriam, according to the badge stuck to her chest - and left, opting to book a room at The Salty Seaman before it got too late and contact Marcus again tomorrow.
Barnes was more than happy to give Isaac a room, even offering him a slight discount. Isaac left his proof of identity at the reception then ascended the stairs to his room. The wallpaper was plain and cream coloured, unadorned except for occassional framed paintings of fruit. As he found his room, he quickly unlocked the door and entered, dumping his bag on the bed. There was a bathroom en suite, so he took a look inside. Seeing that there was a shower, he stripped and stepped inside, turning on the shower. The water was warm and comforting, washing the sweat from his skin and hair. Relaxed, he thought back to the weeks events: coping with Sylvia's death, Marcus contacting him, the trip to Scotland, Barnes, Balmyrno, The Cock’s Head, that cute receptionist. As he thought about this last of those, he moved his left hand between his legs and stroked his length, which was getting excited at the thought of her. Her cute smile, her luscious red hair, her emotional green eyes; he imagined she was in the shower with him, her naked body pressed against his, and he came to a shuddering release.
The torrent of water from the showerhead soon washed away the evidence and he blushed, embarassed. He hadn’t masturbated since he was 17, although he admitted to himself it was probably due to him meeting Anna when he was 18. They had dated for a few years until she had died in an unfortunate accident. He had cried, of course, but then recovered, because for him, life went on.
Moving his mind off such matters, he dried himself, changed into something else and crawled into his bed and went to sleep.
Isaac wandered off the coach slowly, Barnes trailing shortly behind him. Aberforth, where they had arrived, was a short walk from Balmyrno, but Barnes was eager to get there before sunset, so they disembarked almost immediately. Barnes had a heavy-looking suitcase with him, so Isaac deliberately kept a slow pace so he wouldn’t over-exert himself.
It was late when they arrived in Balmyrno, but the sun had not yet set. Although Isaac had intended to keep his promise to Barnes and stay in The Salty Seaman, he first made his way to another local inn, The Cock’s Head, where Marcus had said he was staying. Isaac approached the receptionist, a small, cute girl with green eyes and red hair, and asked what room number Marcus Atlas was occupying. The woman turned to the computer, which was whirring loudly and looked like it was made a decade ago, and checked the surname.
“I’m sorry, sir, there’a no record of that surname in our database.”
Isaac frowned. Marcus had definitely said The Cock’s Head. Pulling out his iPhone to call Marcus and ask, he was quickly disappointed to see that Barnes’ concerns were justified and there was indeed no signal in Balyrmo, with the connection strength reporting absolute zero. Isaac sighed, thanked the receptionist - who was called Miriam, according to the badge stuck to her chest - and left, opting to book a room at The Salty Seaman before it got too late and contact Marcus again tomorrow.
Barnes was more than happy to give Isaac a room, even offering him a slight discount. Isaac left his proof of identity at the reception then ascended the stairs to his room. The wallpaper was plain and cream coloured, unadorned except for occassional framed paintings of fruit. As he found his room, he quickly unlocked the door and entered, dumping his bag on the bed. There was a bathroom en suite, so he took a look inside. Seeing that there was a shower, he stripped and stepped inside, turning on the shower. The water was warm and comforting, washing the sweat from his skin and hair. Relaxed, he thought back to the weeks events: coping with Sylvia's death, Marcus contacting him, the trip to Scotland, Barnes, Balmyrno, The Cock’s Head, that cute receptionist. As he thought about this last of those, he moved his left hand between his legs and stroked his length, which was getting excited at the thought of her. Her cute smile, her luscious red hair, her emotional green eyes; he imagined she was in the shower with him, her naked body pressed against his, and he came to a shuddering release.
The torrent of water from the showerhead soon washed away the evidence and he blushed, embarassed. He hadn’t masturbated since he was 17, although he admitted to himself it was probably due to him meeting Anna when he was 18. They had dated for a few years until she had died in an unfortunate accident. He had cried, of course, but then recovered, because for him, life went on.
Moving his mind off such matters, he dried himself, changed into something else and crawled into his bed and went to sleep.