57

It was a weird weekend. Steph kept playing offended about the shower fuck, waiting for me to come around, basically because that was the way it’d always been. And I kept ignoring her, giving her plenty of opportunities to come around and prove she loved me enough to put her pride aside one damn time.

She didn’t. Me neither.

Knowing she’d be out most of the day again on Sunday, I decided to spend another night in the couch. I’d take the bed over the moment she left for the food bank. But first, I had to make it to Sunday morning.

Being so used to have sex once or twice a day, every day, my cock resented the lack of action. I tried to ignore it. Like it was so easy. I’d almost made it when I found myself lost in yet another prison dream involving Big Ellie. It was late night, after lights off. I was locked up in a solitary confinement cell, standing face against the door, hands up handcuffed to the doorframe above my head, pants halfway down my buttocks, my hard cock hanging out the slo