The Guy On The Couch Novels & Stories

He placed his left hand on the hand rest of the couch as he let his body fall on top of the soft, comfy, and rugged old sofa. He sighs as he leans forward and gets ahold of the remote. "Did they finally come and fix your cable system?" Russell gulps the last of his water as he turns the faucet and washes the cup quickly before placing it upside down to drain. "Yeah, they came in, this morning. I installed the box already if you want to play your stupid games or watch N*****x."

His arm snakes around my waist as he opens his door and leads me inside. His room is large. Much larger than my room. The bed looks big enough to fit at least four adults. There is also a ridiculously long couch in front of a fireplace and next to the fireplace is a tv. So you can sit on the same couch for both the tv and fireplace. The colors of the room are white, gray and black to give a more masculine look. It is a very stylish room, except for the weird couch, with modern art on the walls and plush carpets in strategic places on the floor. It feels homey with little knick knacks in the bookcase, family pictures and a few drawings (that has to be done by a child) framed on the wall.

“Floating?” “Oh good God!” He sits up, looking straight at me. “Floating.” He demonstrates, laying on his back and hovering about four feet above the couch. He looks at me. “This sucks.” He lowers himself back on to the couch once more. He turns on is side to face me. “Now, can I take a nap?” “How did you-?”

Lauren had a quick impression of a huge TV screen connected to a variety of sleek black boxes and speakers by a rainbow spiderweb of cables. But what caught her eye and held it was a big man stretched over the back of a couch like a giant house cat. And “giant” was the word. Toby was a tall man, but she’d be willing to bet that Colin Taggart was taller by several inches and broader all the way

P room A man in his late 50s is sitting on a couch and smoking cigarette. A young girl is sitting on his lap and kissing him from time to time. He is hearing some music. He is touching that girl's intimate parts and the girl is giggling. Moreover, he is enjoying that girl's company. He is too much busy with the girl that he doesn't notice that someone has called him for almost 20 times. As his phone was on silent mode. He didn't notice. Suddenly he noticed that his phone is vibrating. He holds his phone in his hand and saw that someone is calling him. He picked up the call and asked with a boring tone," why are you calling me at this hour?

Fuck, I'm nervous. There are three couches in the living room, all seemingly facing each other in an interrogative manner. Each cushion is occupied by someone. I count in my head—ten people. Maybe eight, but my mind is pushing for ten. I don't spend time on their faces but instead, spend time not tripping over my own boots. When we enter the living room, everyone gets up and waits their turn to say hello. Maybe since it's a commercial break, the men have no excuse not to be hospitable to us.

Gunnar whispered a few words to him and the guy moved, letting us through. We entered a room bathed in black with hints of white. There was a tinted window overlooking the club below and the music wasn't as deafening here — it sounded muffled. Two men were seated on a black leather couch. One had shoulder-length, raven black hair while the other had no hair at all. Both wore expensive-looking suits and both looked as if they put in many hours in the gym. "Astor," the bald guy greeted, gesturing to the couch in front of him, "have a seat."

I rose from the bed and made my way towards the door, eager to escape the suffocating silence of the room. As I pushed the door open, my eyes were met with the sight of him - sitting on the couch, his gaze fixed on his phone screen. Despite the bed on the floor already being laid out, he still hadn't made a move to lie down. It was as if he was stuck in a perpetual state of restlessness, unable to shake off whatever thoughts were plaguing his mind.

A woman climbing out of that couch every night and sleeping with Adam. The courtroom went completely silent. Everyone sat there, stunned. A few seconds later, the silence broke. "Are you kidding me? There was a person hiding inside that couch? No wonder he refused to sleep in the bedroom. He insisted on the living room every single night, and now we know why!" "I just called this guy a good man five minutes ago. I'm an idiot. He had another woman stashed in his own house, right under his wife's nose. If she'd walked in on that, someone would have ended up dead."

Only lucky people got to be in a space like this. I located a couch and sat on it. I wasn't even the only one on it. There was a girl on one of the armrests, her arms hugging the cushion, hips arched upward. And that guy behind her with that huge dick slamming her asshole. He seemed to know how to fuck real good. I crossed my legs, relaxed my neck on the headrest and sipped my drink. I paid for it after all. I just watched, my legs tapping on the floor, moving to the beat of the music... Or maybe the sound of their moans.