Louis's Self Love 4
Story by TikTikKobold on SoFurry
Louis is restless after such an exciting day.
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Louis is having a hard time sleeping that night. The man who had been so repressed in his childhood and even young adulthood now lay in his bed, sweating in the house's heat. His room has always been warmer than he would have liked, but he's so tired and stressed that he can't bring himself to grab his fan out of the closet.
He rolls back and forth, imagining the disgust on his sister's face when she discovers the bottle of lube he left in the bathroom. He groans in despair as he imagines the next family dinner. Will she tell others? Their mother? People in the neighborhood? His friends?
They all think he's a depraved freak! A monster! A coomer degenerate of the lowest order.
The worst part is that as he tosses and turns, his sensitive skin, made so by the fresh shaving, rubs against his pajamas, irritating and reminding him of his shame.
In a fit of confusion and frustration, he sits up and grabs his shirt, tossing it off and throwing it aside.
He sits up for a few moments, blinking through the blurry darkness. He then brings his fingers to his collar, sliding along his upper chest.
The sweat that clings to his chest cools him down, and there's a soft breeze he hasn't noticed before.
All his life, he had dressed up so much while sleeping, so sick of seeing his gross, hairy body and being told by his loved ones that he was a shy and modest boy.
Shy…
Modest…
Was he really those things? Or is that what polite society tells him that he is?
Everyone's asleep. They probably had been for hours. He slips out of the bed, padding along the floor and pressing his door closed, his heart rate increasing as he turns the lock. With its final click, he wonders who would have noticed. What would they think? What are they doing?
There's nothing but silence.
He wraps his arms around his chest, sliding palms down his sides, a soft smile forming. As he touches himself and explores himself, he can't help but notice the tightening in his pants.
Louis's hands slide downward, over his sides and stomach. He pulls his tummy in, tapping himself and feeling happy at how much weight he's lost over the past few years. He's gone a long way since he was a depressed and fat guy. He runs his hand through his hair and slips his fingers under his pants.
There, he pulls them down, letting them drop to his ankles.
Naked, in his room, for no other reason than to be naked!
So many people talk about sleeping in the nude. He could never do it. He was always so worried, so scared.
What if he had a wet dream in the middle of the night? What if he wet the bed? At least in those situations, the clothes would absorb most of the stuff.
How long had it been since he'd done that?
Decades.
Damn, he's old.
He turns to his closet, opens it up, and leans in, wrapping his arms around the tower fan. When he lifts it up from its spot in that cluttered old space, the cold plastic presses against him, his nipples perking up, his dick smacking against the grating.
He laughs nervously at that but soon sets up the fan, putting it on full blast. He stands in front of it, arms wide, head tilted up, letting the cold blast of air hit his uncovered skin.
Perhaps it was necessary to be so wooly for his ancestors to have natural heating? It didn't matter to him. He had a chance to have his body be how he wanted it or at least try a different means of expressing himself.
It's one reason he had let his hair out for the past few years. That receding hairline was already starting to worry him. Still, when his hair grew out, it would go into so many curls, uncontrolled and unrestrained. All the ladies who pointed it out were jealous. He weaved his fingers through his hair, playing with it, twirling some locks through his fingers, all while he was fully exposed to the air blast before him.
Can he even go to sleep now? Well, he'd undoubtedly have to try. He slips back onto the bed, reveling as the goosebumps form over his skin as he contacts the cool sheets. He wraps himself up in the lightest layer, gasping and curling up, completely tucking himself in.
There's nothing as comfy as this has ever been! He had been missing out on the security and delight of skin-to-blanket contact his entire life.
The skin was dangerous, and it was private.
It wasn't meant for people to see or experience.
Going shirtless in public wasn't for him. He was modest and fat and hairy and awkward.
But this is private.
This is the safety of his room.
The privacy to do what he wants is here.
He has this, and no one can take it from him.
If someone were to barge in on him, that would be their fault and problem.
"Just gotta be more careful where I leave the lube," he sighs. "The bathroom isn't private…"
He yawns and rolls over, twirling his toes and squirming in delight.
"And I need to make sure to look up how best to clean cum stains off the floor… or the bed." He says, feeling his dick poking against some of the covers.
As he tried to drift to sleep, that throbbing erection was the main thing keeping him from focusing.
He tosses.
He turns.
He shifts.
He groans.
And he throws off the cover, looking down over his body, seeing his body in the adjusted vision.
And that towering pole poking up to the sky, wanting more.