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Description
The Machine
By Dani Richardson

He becomes aware first of only the faintest of whimpers. Needy, and full of
desire. Reaching over he lazily runs his fingertips gently over the sleek
surface of The Machine. Quieting its now barbaric moans, he smirks and slips out
of bed wearing a loose pair of shorts. Entering the bathroom he undresses
quickly and steps into the dark shower stall.
Turning on the hot water he notes that he would need the services of The Machine
again, although he hoped it wouldn't hurt too much this time. Finishing with his
bathing, he exits the stall and wraps a towel loosely around his stomach.
Picking up The Machine in his firm grasp he opens his mouth and allows The
Machine to assault his mouth, filling its crevices with its pulsing, slick body.
After he felt he is done with The Machine- or rather it is done with him, he
left the room and dressed.
Going down to the first floor of his home he opened some cupboards and pulled
out familiar boxes. Thrusting his hand into the cold inner depths of The
Machine, he searches until he finds the cool liquid and settles down to eat.
Pouring out the billowy fluid, he sighs contently and eagerly finishes up his
meal. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand he places his dishes on the
counter and grabs his briefcase. Locking his house on his way out, he walks down
towards The Machine. Settling comfortably into the intimate clutches of The
Machine, he grasps for some form of control and begins the long, sensual
journey. Making it to his final destination, he leaves The Machine, walking
towards the looming building in front of him.
Showing his identification to the security guard at the front door, he enters
The Machine and whistles a merry tune. Outside his meeting room, he sadly turns
off The Machine and sits in the plush chair at the head of the table. Watching
with envy at the other executives whispering conspiringly into The Machines
nestled securely in the palms of their hands, he clears his throat and begins
talking. Countless hours pass until finally The Machine signals that he may
leave, hurrying to The Machine to allow safe passage home.
Entering his first floor, he lets a sigh of relief escape his parched lips as
his eyes widen at the sight of The Machine. Mesmerized by the steam eluded from
its captivity, he goes about the practiced motions of preparing himself for its
gift. Finally it is ready, and he waits not a moment to indulge his savage need.
Afterwards, greedily eyeing the remnants of the ravished meal, he sits down and
enjoys a quiet evening alone with The Machine. As the blurry image of The
Machine fades he drags himself to bed, his fingers tracing the intricate
patterns to turn The Machine on, and then leaving it counting down the moments
until it would be turned off again!

Description
The Machine
By Dani Richardson

He becomes aware first of only the faintest of whimpers. Needy, and full of
desire. Reaching over he lazily runs his fingertips gently over the sleek
surface of The Machine. Quieting its now barbaric moans, he smirks and slips out
of bed wearing a loose pair of shorts. Entering the bathroom he undresses
quickly and steps into the dark shower stall.
Turning on the hot water he notes that he would need the services of The Machine
again, although he hoped it wouldn't hurt too much this time. Finishing with his
bathing, he exits the stall and wraps a towel loosely around his stomach.
Picking up The Machine in his firm grasp he opens his mouth and allows The
Machine to assault his mouth, filling its crevices with its pulsing, slick body.
After he felt he is done with The Machine- or rather it is done with him, he
left the room and dressed.
Going down to the first floor of his home he opened some cupboards and pulled
out familiar boxes. Thrusting his hand into the cold inner depths of The
Machine, he searches until he finds the cool liquid and settles down to eat.
Pouring out the billowy fluid, he sighs contently and eagerly finishes up his
meal. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand he places his dishes on the
counter and grabs his briefcase. Locking his house on his way out, he walks down
towards The Machine. Settling comfortably into the intimate clutches of The
Machine, he grasps for some form of control and begins the long, sensual
journey. Making it to his final destination, he leaves The Machine, walking
towards the looming building in front of him.
Showing his identification to the security guard at the front door, he enters
The Machine and whistles a merry tune. Outside his meeting room, he sadly turns
off The Machine and sits in the plush chair at the head of the table. Watching
with envy at the other executives whispering conspiringly into The Machines
nestled securely in the palms of their hands, he clears his throat and begins
talking. Countless hours pass until finally The Machine signals that he may
leave, hurrying to The Machine to allow safe passage home.
Entering his first floor, he lets a sigh of relief escape his parched lips as
his eyes widen at the sight of The Machine. Mesmerized by the steam eluded from
its captivity, he goes about the practiced motions of preparing himself for its
gift. Finally it is ready, and he waits not a moment to indulge his savage need.
Afterwards, greedily eyeing the remnants of the ravished meal, he sits down and
enjoys a quiet evening alone with The Machine. As the blurry image of The
Machine fades he drags himself to bed, his fingers tracing the intricate
patterns to turn The Machine on, and then leaving it counting down the moments
until it would be turned off again!