I had never been so happy to be home. I checked my wristwatch. It was 2:30am. I’d finally made it.
I’d been stripped, chased, mocked, sucked, fucked, wanked, humiliated, attacked, embarrassed, and roundly and soundly ridiculed.
Constantly in peril, I’d made the long, arduous and very naked journey home in one sweaty, tired, aching piece. I’d done it.
I turned on the air conditioner, guzzled nearly a litre of chilled water from the refrigerator, and then enjoyed a warm, calming shower.
I washed all the grit, dirt, filth and sweat off my aching body, and felt my taut, tense muscles loosen and relax. I breathed another huge sigh of relief.
I dried off, and then swaggered into my bedroom to grab some underwear and a pair of shorts. But I stopped suddenly instead, and then laughed quietly.
“Fuck putting on pants,” I said to myself and flopped down onto my comfortable couch, my cock slapping against my muscled thighs. “I just fucking love being naked…”