A Polaroid of Kristine, Part 5 - Sex Stories

A Polaroid of Kristine, Part 5

... and the pressure definitely felt good. I pressed a bit harder, and to my surprise my finger popped in fairly easily. The sensation was odd, but pleasurable. It felt as if I was full in a way that I had never imagined before. And my cock liked it, pulsing hotly as my finger worked its way deeper inside. Soon the strangeness of the sensation was replaced with an intense pleasure. Unfamiliar and different, but powerful, and it somehow seemed directly connected to my cock. My other hand grasped my cock again, and I pumped it a few times before realizing that I would cum all too quickly this way. The feeling was too intense, and I reluctantly stopped. I removed my finger from my ass, and that feeling was definitely strange. My erection was not subsiding, and I couldn’t stay in the shower forever. I didn’t know what to do after a few minutes of standing around, my cock bobbing hugely, so I finally turned the water to cold. The feeling was almost excruciating, and it took all the willpower I had not to jump away from the frigid stream. I persevered, however, and the cold water had its desired result. It shrank my erection, and I was able to wrap my towel around myself and leave the shower without the effect being obscene. I got dressed and went to the elevator. My finger hesitated at 26, Kristina’s floor, before I decided against it and rode the elevator farther down to my family’s apartment. My parents were at work, it being a Tuesday, and my younger brothers were doing who knows ...

... what. They always found things to do out for most of the day during the summer, the pool never having appealed to them the way it had to me. So I had the apartment to myself. I looked at myself in the mirror and felt a little immature in my shorts and t-shirt. Kristina always looked so… so… mature whatever she was wearing, and my clothes somehow didn’t look elegant enough. But I didn’t see what else to wear. In the summer, wearing anything less casual would have prompted questions of why I was so dressed up. I took out a polo shirt and some khaki pants. I put them on and considered shoes. Boat shoes? Too preppy? At least I could wear those without socks. I conjured an image of myself standing naked in front of Kristina in dark socks, and having her laugh at me. At some level I knew she would not laugh at me. She never had, and as it turned out, she never would. I looked at the time, and I saw it was almost noon. Who knew what my brothers’ schedules would be, but my parents wouldn’t be home until close to six. It seemed enough time to risk being dressed a bit nicer for Kristina, so I kept on my less ratty outfit, and stepped into my shoes. The timing was a problem. I wanted to go to her apartment, but my post-workout hunger was definitely hitting me hard. I didn’t want to ask her for food, and I was honestly hesitant to go to her apartment without a specific and explicit invitation. I smiled. I suppose my invitation was “explicit” enough, but the previous two times I had been ...