The Guy On The Couch Novels & Stories

My grip tightens on the pepper spray until the plastic bites into my palm. I step fully into the room, letting the door drift shut behind me. The smell hits me first. Cheap cologne and stale tobacco. It masks the usual scent of mildew and lemon cleaner. "You're late, Mrs. Mikos." A lamp clicks on. The sudden light stings my eyes. A man sits on my beige, second-hand couch. Boots—muddy, heavy work boots—rest on my coffee table. He’s holding a silver frame in his thick, scarred hands.

He had a large TV mounted on the wall and it was placed directly opposite his black couch that looked so comfortable my muscles relaxed in anticipation just from staring at it. Noir guided me to it, his hand still holding mine like he thought I'd bolt if he let go. Maybe I would have. Maybe I should have. We sat and the couch dipped under our combined weight, sliding me closer to his side. The heat radiating from his bare skin was immediate and overwhelming, making me hyperaware of every inch of space between us. Not much space. Barely any at all. He grabbed the remote with his free hand—because he still hadn't let go of mine—and started scrolling through options, his face bathed in blue lig

I quickly forced a smile and they let them selves in, one of the men taking a seat on my couch and the other two took rest behind it. " hello miss Carter " the guy on the couch called out , I recognized the Australian accent and raspy voice from the phone call earlier, through his glasses I could make out a scar on his left eyebrow. forcing a smile in response, he continued, " I know you usually get a couple months off , but the boss requests something else" . he licked his cracked lips , signalling the other to pull out a bunch of envelopes from a bag . placing them on my table I could make out several pictures of a man , seemingly unaware .

He was tall and broad, muscled in all the right places. Yet somehow, the man on the couch outshined him with little to no effort. With him in the room, with his relaxed posture and powerful eyes, he easily made everything else turn pale. There was no doubt in her mind that the man on the couch was the one who called the shots. Alpha, the other man had called him. Not that she had any clue why the hell someone would name themselves Alpha for any reason whatsoever. Not her concern. “Err…” Did he have to act so oblivious? “Out of everything that happened?”

They were all men there on the couch and there were also women who I think worked here, only one decent woman I saw there sitting next to a man. “Bro! Long time no see! ” emphatically said one. Hugh fired a fist bomb at him. "Long time no see and now he's gonna show up with this hot chick." said a clean cut man holding a red cup. ”What’s your name miss? I’m Coli, the birthfay guy. ” he asked and winked at me. “Happy birthday,” I pursed my lips and was about to say my name when Hugh pulled me on his side immediately.

one of them says gesturing for us to follow him. "Thank you, Mateo" Leo nods to the guy and we follow him to the house, leaving the rest behind. It looks like he has been here before. The house is quiet. Mateo takes us to the living room, where a man in his late fifties is calmly sitting on a black single couch, with a cancer stick between his index and middle fingers. On the wooden table in front of him, is a bottle of whiskey with a half-filled glass. His dark gaze keenly regards us, more especially me before a slight smirk appears on his darkening lips.

He then proceeds to scratch his balls, and readjust his junk. Kellan is the most fastidiously tidy and dignified man I’ve ever met. He has to be putting this Neanderthal show on for my benefit. He ambles over and flops down on the couch, puts his feet up in the small of my back and pops the cap off the beer he’s holding. He fumbles clumsily for the remote and flicks on the TV.

she replied. Meanwhile, in the room across the hall, a blonde guy sat on a couch with his legs crossed as he watched the crowd lazily. Finding the crowd bothersome and boring for him, he did a gesture of shaking his head while clicking his tongue. He had another thing in mind which is way interesting than anything else for his world: food.

I stepped straight to the front row, bypassing Samantha and Benjamin, each of whom gave me a thoughtful and worried glance before lowering their heads back down. I stopped at the far right of the first row. In front of me was the serious-looking Mrs. Manson who’s now scowling at me. But the fearful tension hanging over the lineup wasn’t caused by her. It was, for I had finally realized, from the presence of the man sitting on a vintage couch next to her. He had a giant figure and a well build-up body. His long legs stretched out casually before the couch and his shoulders leaning against it was broad enough to almost cover the seatback. He propped his right elbow on the armrest, fingers rest

I couldn’t help but let my eyes roam, helplessly. To my left, on a battered leather couch, two guys were completely lost in their own world. One was on his knees, his firm ass arched high in the air, cheeks spread invitingly as the other guy knelt behind him, his hand wrapped around his own rock-hard cock, stroking it slowly to spread a generous amount of lube before aligning the swollen head with that tight, puckered hole.