Zeesic sprawled himself out in the middle of the bed. Flat on his back, limbs all askew. Starfished.
Stark naked, erection pointing lazily at the ceiling, watching the fan spin above his head. He lightly slapped at his tensed bulge, enough to make it sway, and chuckled. No real intention of doing anything to relieve or dissuade it, more just using the appendage as a built-in form of entertainment.
More than anything, he was somewhat lost in thought. He had everything he had ever dreamed of and then a few things more beyond that. Two loving husbands, a fuckton of descendants, a couple of wayward hatemates, an overflowing bank account, and a whole slew of friends he probably didn’t deserve. But, like, also... what now?
He wouldn’t exactly refer to his mental state as a mid-life crisis, partially because he wasn’t even at his quarter-life mark and partially because his life was basically pure bliss. But it lacked a certain sense of purpose and direction. He needed to do something with some of this time. The kids were getting older, and he didn’t really have to work anymore. And, when he didn’t need to work, he generally just didn’t work. That was just the way a Zeesic functions.
Just as he began considering the concept of standing upright and clothing himself before someone came looking for him, he heard footsteps in the hall. With a small shrug, he kept on keeping on, assuming it was already too late to hide his shame. And, to be completely honest, there were few people in his life who had never seen him nude before.
