Grey. Grey is easy to be. Nobody pays attention to grey. Here’s a day in the life of Grey.
Grey still lives at home with his parents. Grey has a dead end job and he’s the black sheep of his family. Grey enjoys having sex, but never gets ass. Well, maybe not never. There was that time after his ex when he met Cindy. She was smokin’, and had a great job, but never any money and time for him.
He waited patiently for weeks, and then went in for the kill. They fucked like there was no tomorrow. She enjoyed it, but they only did it one more time about a week later, after her period ended. She was dull. She was dead. She was boring. It was like slamming up against a wall. A tight gushy wall. He was the second man she had ever been with so her inner walls closed in on him, with a no slip grip. He enjoyed it somewhat, probably because he came in about 20 minutes, but not enough. Not that much.
Grey goes to work and once there in his office, he dies some more. Actually, a piece of Grey dies everyday as he sits in the 4 white walls, one white ceiling and one dull grey carpeted floor. There is a window, but Grey leaves the blinds shut all the time and he never turns the lights on. He doesn’t even want to give himself hope inside that dungeon.
Grey spends a few hours getting a few orders, and by the time the day finishes dragging, it’s time for him to take a dull ride home. Grey gets home, turns on the tv to numb his mind, eats from his bag of Doritos, and then takes a steaming hot shower. That’s usually around eleven, when there isn’t shit on tv for him to watch. Grey is so broke that he doesn’t have cable.
His parents rarely ever knock on his door to check on him. He knew if he had kids, even if they were 30 and still living at home, he would check on them more than once or twice a day.
Around midnight, the freak comes out.
Grey cuts the lights and he doesn’t even bother locking the door. He reassures himself that no one will ever bother to accidently catch him in the act because no one gives a shit about him. It’s all pretend. Parents usually just create, especially if they’re fucked up in the head. Two fucked up people that fuck up more little people that grow into big fucked up people. That’s what most parents are.
He clears his head and concentrates on the thought of his ex in the shower and how the water would drizzle down the front of her areolas. They would enlarge as he was on his knees before her. She’s collapsing. They’re falling apart together. She’s having an orgasm. He’s trying to keep her up without breaking his neck. Sex wasn’t better with her, but the love was there. That’s what made the difference. He loved to please her, even if she wasn’t the best at what she did in return. He could overlook some things.
Grey hops into bed and pulls out his already stiffened cock. God! He’d been doing this for how many months?! He began jerking off to the thought of her soft body curled up in her bed, waiting for him, her eyes pleading with him to come inside her.
Grey comes, grabs a napkin on his night stand and cleans off his hands. He’s made a mess but he’s used to it. Grey doesn’t even feel guilty anymore. He’s grown to feel numb. Grey knows that tomorrow will be the same. That’s what it’s like to be grey. That’s what it’s like when black and white make grey. It’s easy to go unnoticed. He pops a few sleeping pills and relaxes. “Hopefully tomorrow”, he whispers, “I’ll get some splash of color”. He turns over, avoiding a spot where his semen fell on the sheets. “Hopefully”.
That’s a day in the life of being grey.