"Why am I so fucking damaged?" He shouted to the walls. They had no answer for him. Instead, he stormed into the bathroom and turned on the sink, splashing cool water on his face. Staring in the mirror, he watched the cool drops fall down his cheeks, his eyes suddenly on the giant bathtub.
The bathroom's contoured walls prevented anyone in the tub from seeing anything but the bathroom. Remembering how well he fit in it earlier, and seeing how isolated it was, he knew it would work.
Turning on the water, he watched as the basin filled quite quickly. Obviously, his great aunt had found a way to trick out the water pressure. Beth had told him that they paid a cleaning service to turn everything over, which meant that clean towels were already hanging near the tub. He stripped down in the bedroom, throwing his clothes on the nearby dresser.
Walking into the bathroom, he caught sight of his own naked figure in the mirror. His body was lean (he really didn't eat too much), and marred with massive scars on the right. They went all the way from his thigh to under his armpit, crossing chaotically. They were a reminder of the fatal accident that had taken his mother, one final mark for her to leave behind. One girlfriend had told him they made him look like a badass, but he couldn't be certain she wasn't just saying that to make him feel better.
Mike thumbed through the playlist on his phone and found one he liked. The water was just right, and he carefully slid into the tub. The whole inner surface had a texture that helped prevent him from slipping. A nearby washrag was soaked in hot water and he placed it across his eyes and forehead. Drowning out the world with water and music, he let his hands explore.
One hand slid across the head of his penis while the other one tugged gently at the skin beneath the head. He let both hands slide down the shaft with plenty of room to spare between them. A former girlfriend had once told him (upon breaking up) that a dick like his was a waste, because no girl ever got to use it.
"Fuck," Mike muttered to himself. He only found the courage to do this once every few weeks, which meant that he was always extra sensitive. He ran his thumb gently over the head, flinching at the sudden intrusion of pleasure. He pictured the delivery girl in his mind, running his fingers down and across her slender hips, hearing her moan as he leaned in to suck on her neck. In his mind, he slid his hands underneath her shirt to play with her nipples, watching as she slid down the length of his body to take him in her mouth.
The mind was a tricky thing. Mike let his brain rewind. This time, she was in a hurry, but she desperately needed to get fucked. Sliding her pants down, he took her roughly from behind, her soaking pussy squeezing hard on his dick. His mind tossed and turned over both possibilities, allowing him the luxury of both fantasies.
Grabbing the root of his cock, he squeezed hard. He felt the pressure slowly build inside, and his fantasies took hold as he felt a warm mouth engulf his cock, sucking it in hard.
Surprised, Mike opened his eyes to see a woman beneath the water's surface, her hands pinned to his hips as her head bobbed up and down slowly on his dick. Her hair was light blue, the color of sapphires, and she appeared as if a ghost, the light of the room passing through her body. Confused, he withdrew a hand from the water and pinched his own cheek.
"Urgh!" That had hurt! He grabbed the side of the tub with one hand and fought to pull free. The woman beneath the water bobbed her head frantically, her tongue swirling around the head of his cock as she pulled him farther into the back of her throat. Gasping for air, Mike tried to slide away from her, this strange specter, but she clamped her hands against his ass and pulled his cock in as deep as it would go.
He had been too close to the edge already. Moaning, his cock spurted out rope after rope of cum, filling her throat and traveling down to her stomach.