Creative Outlet

...">"Frak!" Bill cursed in frustration, dropped his hand from his dick and stared in disgust at the erection jutting from his lap.

He'd thought he had plenty of time to work one out before Laura arrived, but he'd been pulling on his cock for fifteen minutes and still hadn't brought himself off, was still impossibly hard. He was considering canceling the meeting when the sandwich bag caught his eye from across the room and inspiration struck.

Recalling a trick from his youth, Bill shuffled over to the table with his pants at his ankles and his prick bobbing up and down. He retrieved the baggie which had contained his lunch and hurriedly returned to the couch, dropped bare-assed back to the buttery leather. After a quick inspection of the thin, clear sack, he decided it was worth trying if it meant he didn't have to greet the President of the Colonies with a raging hard-on.

Decision made, Bill reached for the lube he'd earlier used to grease his dick, squeezed a bit of the silky fluid into the baggie and tossed the bottle back to the coffee table. He hastily rubbed the flattened bag between his palms to coat the inside, then fitted the plastic around his cock. Bill held the gathered opening firmly at the base of his erection and, as he moved to lay on his stomach, guided his plastic covered cock into the snug gap between two cushions. He loosened his grip on the baggie and flexed his hips experimentally, groaned as his hard length slid along the slippery sides of the tight channel created by the close-fitting cushions surrounding the plastic bag.

Though Bill was no longer a horny, teenaged virgin and now knew the difference between this crude simulation of a woman's anatomy and the real thing, he thought it an acceptable imitation given the situation. Keeping one hand on the sandwich bag to hold it in place, he turned his head, splayed the fingers of his other hand on the cushion near the side of his face and settled in. He began slowly rolling his pelvis, plunging his cock into the cleft in his couch. And when he closed his eyes, he was frakking Laura.

She lay naked beneath him on the couch, her tits bouncing with every crash of their hips - her hands were in her hair, her eyes pleading. He nipped at her pink nipples, tongued the peaks as they stiffened. She was begging - 'Harder, faster, more.' She called out to him, her voice husky - 'Bill. Frak me, Bill. Yesss, Bill.' He held her long, bare legs up in the air, his dark hands around her slender ankles, and pounded into her tight, hot body...

The leather creaked and the springs squeaked as Bill's salacious thoughts raced and the speed of his thrusting hips quickened. The erotic slide show playing in his head grew in vulgarity as the lubricated baggie warmed from the friction his fast pace generated.

Laura was on her knees, frakking herself with her fingers. She was sucking his dick - humming as she slurped noisily at the swollen, purple head. She slid her tongue along the underside of his shaft, wrapped her delicate hand around his cock and stroked him as she licked his balls, sucked them into her mouth one at a time. Her hair was messy and she called him 'Admiral'. She was wearing her glasses...

Bill was panting heavily, sweating. His face stuck to the smooth leather covering the couch while his hips rocked frantically to repeatedly stab his dick into the slick plastic he held between the cushions. As tension began to build in his groin with the approach of his long-sought release, Bill's mind provided him in flashes of hard-core images the visual stimulation he needed to reach his goal.

He was eating Laura's pussy - sucking at her clit with his nose buried in her copper curls, his fingers buried in her body / She was licking her wetness from his lips, his chin, fingering her clit and moaning while he frakked her / He was pulling Laura's hair, frakking her from behind as she bent over the plot table in CIC, her tits spilling over the cups of a black bra as the crew looked on / She was on her back atop his dining table and he was frakking her mouth, squeezing her tits, as her head hung over the side and her hair swept against his thighs / She was on her hands and knees on the floor of her office, skirt hiked up, high heels on, crying out as he frakked her up the ass / She was alternately tonguing and fingering his ass while he jerked off in the communal showers of the officer's head ...

Though caught up in his passionate fantasy, Bill had the presence of mind to tighten his grip, secure the plastic baggie around his cock as he bucked and grunted.

He came in Laura's mouth, at the back of her throat / He stroked his cock and came in spurts on her tits, the cheeks of her ass / He pressed the pulsing head of his dick just inside her ass, came as the ring of muscle seized around him in response to her own orgasm / He threw her legs over his shoulders, lifted her ass off the rack and shot his load with the tip of his cock lodged firmly against her cervix ...

His exuberant thrusting in finally being able to blow a nut had forced the cushions further apart and the end of Bill's cock was bumping up against the supporting burlap surface underneath. He stilled his hips, squeezed his plastic-encased shaft and milked the last drops of his ejaculation into the sandwich bag that had so beautifully served him. He lay on the couch sweaty and content, relaxed his body, sucked in a long breath and let it out on a satisfied sigh.

When after a few moments his breathing and heart rate had returned to near normal ranges, Bill lifted his head to check the clock and found that he had precious little time in which to make himself presentable before Laura was due for their meeting.

He clumsily scrambled to a sitting position, pushed himself off the couch with his free hand and snatched the bottle of lube from the table. Still clutching the plastic bag between his legs, Bill stumbled into the head, dragging his trousers and belt buckle over the threshold. Standing in front of the toilet, he carefully peeled the baggie from his flaccid dick, raised it to eye level and examined the contents, rolled the thin plastic in his fingers and felt the warmth of the white, viscous fluid. He dropped the bagful of come into the bowl, thought the volume impressive as he emptied his bladder atop it. He made sure the evidence of his unorthodox performance went down when he flushed then set about washing the sticky remains of his orgasm from his cock and pubic hair.

The groaning of the hinges alerted Bill to the fact that the hatch was opening just as he tucked his tunic into his pants and fastened his belt. He poked his head out the door, returned Laura's warm smile and advised her he'd be right out. He moved to the sink, washed his hands and splashed water on his face. After he'd toweled off and straightened his hair, he returned the small bottle of lubricant to the cupboard and strode out to the living area.

He quickly schooled his features and hoped Laura hadn't noticed the slight twitch of his eye, the hitch in his step, when he saw she'd seated herself on the couch, her lovely ass bridging the gap between the cushions he'd just frakked.