The Guy On The Couch Novels & Stories

A man in his mid thirties sat on the couch with his leg crossed on the other , he seemed to be a foodie looking at the manner in which he munched the delicious looking chip and turkey . He noticed another figure in the room and looks up , “ Hi Mrs Ryan ” he greeted waving his not too oily fingers “ Hi ” Violet answered “ I am Luke, Your cold man best friend ” he introduced himself “ who is my cold man ? ” Violet asked lost and confused on what he was talking about “ I mean your cold man coming down stairs ” Luke said demonstrating with his fingers as she looked up . Ryan was descending the stairs , he was shirtless, his bare chest, he flexed his biceps on every step he took , Violet's eye ne

What a strange guy! ***

She sat down on her black fur couch reclining her head back. The bathroom door opened a few moments later and Troy stepped out with a towel wrapped around his waist. Her eyes scanned his form. Instantly she forgot about her previous thoughts in her admiration of him. Troy's stomach was flat and well muscled. Where did homeless guys work out? He spotted her on the couch and came over to sit across from her on the red ottoman. "Are you okay?" He asked with a bit of trepidation. "Yes. I am." She offered him a tentative smile. She tried to think of something nice, something positive. "I...uhm...wanted to tell you that you made me feel really...good."

But it wasn't the overall niceness of the place that caught my attention, no, unfortunately, that was immediately captured by the man lounging on the couch like he owned the place. My client sat legs spread, an arm draped casually over the back of the couch, the other nursing a glass of amber liquid. Shadows obscure his face, concealing most of his features, but I can still make out the sharp angles of his face and the muscles hidden beneath the dark shirt he's wearing. The moment I enter, his eyes snap to mine, and all at once, I realise who it is I'm supposed to dance for. Fuck. Mystery Man? “You're here.” he breathes, sounding relieved

He pointed to the single across from the couch. As I slowly walked over and sat Mark leaned back onto the couch. I looked on in terror as he slowly began unbuckling his belt, it wasn't long before he was sliding his slacks down. He wasn't wearing any underwear and his massive black cock sprung immediately upwards, incredibly aroused, and incredibly thick. He shuffled the pants to the floor, tossing them to the side along with his loafers. His cock was now the center of attention in the room, his large balls rested on the sofa cushion, and he leaned back looking at Vanessa.

DAWN. "Sorry, who are you?" I ask the guy that's sitting casually on the couch. He stands up, giving me a tight smile. He looks just two or three years older than me, which means he must be in college. Even his dressing which is crazed jeans and a white shirt that clings tightly to his body shows that he isn't in any way old. After finally leaving Kira, we arrive to meet a car... A different one from the one we went in, in the compound, only to come in and meet this strange guy. How he entered is the thing that baffled me, that the door was locked before we left.

They fixed their gaze, tracing where the voice is coming from to a guy. Sited on the chesterfield sofa, it was broad, a white one fitting with the whiteness of the mansion. He was holding a remote as their eyes drive pass him to the television, no a closed circuit television, viewing all the compound. Both the one they passed, the one they didn't and outside the Mansion infact. "Have your sit." They didn't realize, the other guy sitting opposite him as they turn their gaze to him. He looked like a lawyer with his black suit, black in all and the two or three documents in his hand.

I stand in the doorway of the living room and take in the scene. Damien is on the sectional couch in a grey singlet and sweat pants with a controller in his hand and an expression on his face that I have genuinely never seen before. He looked completely focused and absorbed in the digital game playing on the tv. Across from him on the opposite end of the couch is a good looking man about his age, broad shouldered, with a goofy and easy grin. "That was a foul!" The man shouts at the screen. "That was absolutely a foul, are you seeing this?"

Shades of charcoal, soft lighting, and the faint scent of cedarwood and something uniquely him. He extended the couch near the TV, tossing down throw pillows and setting up a spread that made me blink, popcorn, chocolates, chips, drinks, even warm cookies. “I didn’t know what you’d feel like eating,” he said simply. He turned on the TV, lowering the volume, the flickering light from the screen washing over his face. Then, without a word, he disappeared for a moment, and returned holding a steaming towel. “Lie back,” he said softly. I did, I'm the pillows, half sitting.

He asked the most basic question, while they both stood frozen at there places. "Umm.. it is alright. You will get a stiff neck in a few days. This couch is not meant for sleeping." Eva looked at the stylish antique couch, which was arched from the centre and sides "Unless you know how to bend your body like a snake. This might be another of your secret talents." She smitked teasing the man. "No! I am not that talented." He nodded his head in disapproval. "Then.. I shall go and change into my nightwear." Troy walked away awkwardly, towards the dressing area, where the staff had already arranged his clothes in the vacant almirahs.