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Life Gets in the Way

Apologies for all the times when other things occupy time
I've been thinking of you all day.
Really, I have.
I get all the beautiful images of you,
The friendship and the things that
Aren't always within the usual four walls
Of friendship.

I get the memories of late night chats,
And of early morning e-mails,
And surprises along with them.
The attachments in my Inbox,
A photo of a nipple,
A hand and fingers on your pussy.

And all you get is silence.

Life gets in the way,
We all need to eat and have a roof,
And I swear to you that this last week
Has been the busiest I can recall.

Explanations, not excuses.

And all you get is silence.

Life gets in the way,
An ill child needs me at night,
And did I mention that last week was...

Oh, yes, I did mention it. In that
Two line e-mail that said
I miss you
And then told you why I keep
Missing you.

Life gets in the way.

Aren't you life too?
Why don't I let you get in the way
Of all of the other distractions?
Can't I answer my phone and say
"I am busy"
While I take the time to write to you,
And give you something to think about
In those moments of
That inevitably arrive.

Close the door.
Lock the door.
Turn on the webcam.

Can you see me now?
A zipper undone, and pants dropped,
My hand a blur on my hardness,
My hand a blur because the frame-rate on
My video camera is too slow,
And the resolution is knocked down a few too many notches,
So that my video will be small enough
To send by email.

Can you see me now?
Frantic. Outside my locked door,
Is the life that keeps getting in the way.
Frantic. My hand stroking furiously.
I started out soft, my mind wondering
About what lies beyond that locked door,
But now, only you are in my thoughts.

Hard. Erect. Pointing directly at
The lens as I pause from my stroking,
You see the first drops of wetness at my tip?
Can you see my arousal,
All because of you?

I return to my task, and this is no longer
This is why they call it self-abuse.
Jacking off.
Jerking my cock fast and hard.

I need to cum for you.
I want to cum for you.

There. The creamy puddle on my desk?
I came for you.

Two minutes and forty seconds.

Clean up time.
Editing time.
Time for you, and not for the distractions.

But it is mid-day,
And I have to open that door sometime.

Sometime and eventually is now.

A click of the mouse,
And I send you my few minutes
Of not letting life get in the way.

I'm sorry. It is all I have.
I'm sorry. Life does get in the way,
And the rent, and the car payments, and the gas,
And the electricity, the cable television, the cellphone...

The whole thing gets in the way
Of what really matters.

I'm still thinking of you,
Even as my door is open,
And the sounds of fax machines and copiers,
Ringing phones and serious conversation
Echo in the hallways outside my door and
Invade my moment.

Now my image of you changes, and it
Is me wondering what you will say to yourself
When you open up my attachment,
When you have images of me
To distract you.

To get in the way.

Watch me closely.
Watch me cum for you.
Watch me channel all of my "sorries"
Into a blurry hand raging on my hardness.

An explanation, not an excuse.

I know you are watching me.
I can hear you chuckle. Giggle.
I like that.

I like the sounds you make.

Life gets in the way sometimes,
But you know that I'll always be here, don't you,
Trying to find a way to break the silence.

Even if it is just a giggle as you
Watch me apologize
With my right hand.
This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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