The Brilliance of the Snow

After the brilliance of the snow I experienced a heavy purple blindness upon returning indoors and a tender ache behind my eyes. The room was a field of dim shapes for me to navigate by touch and sound.
I could just about make out the vague form of Ray laying on the bed. I made my way carefully over to him and nudged him to make space for me. I lay beside him and then my hand found his stiffening knob. I began to jerk it whilst he lay motionless, sucking his thumb.
Faster, he instructed me in a husky whisper, go faster. I did as instructed, quickening the repetitive motion of my wrist. Holding another man's cock felt strange, the contrast between the firmness of the muscle and the paunchity of the flesh.
Presently he came and then it was my turn. I guided his hand to my fierce erection and he grasped at it tentatively, giggling. He began to jerk my off and I echoed his instruction for increased pace. It felt sublime, I felt a vast carnal calm as if I had inhabited the gruesomely blissful secret to reality.
I groaned as I shot thick wads of semen across my stomach and Ray giggled again. We lay in silence for a while. Then Ray began talking about blowjobs. I didn't want to talk about blowjobs. I felt horrified, mortified. I buried my face in the pillow and howled silently. I could feel a burden of guilt settling over me slowly. I got up from the bed suddenly. Ray froze and stopped talking. I could sense him calculating desperately the best tactic to keep me trapped there longer. I made to leave.
Wait, he called out pitifully.
I need to go, I murmured and then I was gone, out into the excruciating glare of the pure white landscape.