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His days at Mayfield were beginning to feel longer and longer.All day, every day, every single movement he made was being monitored.He couldn't escape people even in his own bedroom. Alvie seemed drawn to him like a magnet, wanting to be near him all the time, and that man couldn't take a hint.Lord, was he frustrated. And with the Vicodin out of his system, his libido felt like it was in overdrive. It felt as if he were in his 20s again, just starting testosterone.In a perfect coincidence, a near-divine matching of schedules, he finally had their bedroom to himself. For the first time in weeks, he was alone. No groups, no activities, Alvie was off in individual therapy. Ward 6 was quiet for once. House almost couldn't believe it.
Almost.
This opportunity was too good to pass up. The second the orderly left his room on their 15-minute rounds, he gently shut the door and crawled into his bed. It felt like his heart was about to beat out of his chest, anticipating what was about to happen.Blood was already rushing to his lower half, swelling his clit, making it pulse in time with his heart. His body was so desperate for release. As he settled in the bed, he allowed his hands to wander under his shirt, gently toying with his nipples. That simple stimulation alone made his breath catch for a second. As his nipples hardened under his manipulation, he rolled them between his fingers. The sensation made his clit twitch. The nipple play alone might be enough to make him finish.Almost reluctantly, he drew a hand away from his chest, sliding it down his body, landing between his thighs. He could feel his tdick through his pants. House palmed himself gently, finally giving his dick the attention it craved. He rocked his hips lightly into his own hand. He could feel himself getting wetter with every thrust. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. Both of his bands went to his waistband, pulling his sweatpants and boxers down far enough to expose his neglected pussy. House slid between his folds, grabbing his tdick between his finger and his thumb. God, he needed this. He began to stroke himself. Slowly at first, but he quickly gained momentum as lust overtook his body.Thoughts of Wilson entered his mind. God he wished Wilson were here. On top of him, pinning him to the bed, pounding into him like it was the last thing he'd ever do. His free hand pulled his clothes down further, pulling his non-injured leg entirely out of them. He propped the leg up, giving himself access to his dripping hole. He pushed one finger in, then a second, and began to thrust in time with his strokes. He felt so good. It was getting harder to bite back his moans- his needy, desperate moans. Fuck, he wanted to cum. Needed to cum.He imagined Wilson in his ear, encouraging him. "That's it, Greg," his fantasy cooed. "Let go. You're so pretty when you cum for me."House's body was ablaze with pleasure. It coursed through his veins, tingled his skin. Reality was slipping away from him as his climax approached. Nothing existed besides his delicious ecstasy. Fuck, there it was-"Oh shit-" Came a voice from the other side of the room.As his head shot up and he locked eyes with the orderly in his room, his body exploded into the most intense orgasm he'd had in years. This time, he couldn't prevent a moan from escaping his lips. He barely heard the door slam shut as his eyes closed involuntarily and his back began to arch. His hole clenched on his fingers and his clit throbbed. He was seeing stars. Waves of pure pleasure washed over his body. His mind went fully blank- though that was sure to change shortly.Slowly, those waves died down. He lay in bed as he rode out his high. Panting, a thin sheen of sweat covering his body, he stared at the ceiling. The world around him came back, and he was left with the realization of what just happened."Damn," he whispered.That was going to be fun to explain to Nolan next week.