Special thanks: To Misty for checking my feelings and telling me that they were understood. And to Cindy, as always, for not only fixing my boo-boos but this time, giving me the inspiration I needed to finish the albatross.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The elevator comes to a halt, jostling my insides around in my body. I huff as I step out. I don't know why the elevator should be any different ... I've been tossed around a lot in the last 24 hours. I walk down the hall and it keeps getting longer and longer and it seems like I'll never get there. Even this fucking hotel, in its snobby disguise is trying to protect him. He has that effect on everything and everyone. It knows what I'm going to do when I reach his room.
His room ... hah!
It's my room seeing how I’m paying for the fucking thing. That thought angrily reminds me why I’m here and I forge ahead, determined to get to that door and take my life back.
I’m pissed off because I had to drive all fucking night to get here, listening to the pathetic Pittsburgh Trio’s salute to Broadway the whole fucking way. And if that wasn't bad enough, I blew a fucking tire which is gonna cost me money – more money on top of all the shit he’s charged on my credit card to pay for this damn hotel – on top of all the shit that was stolen (also his fault, by the way) that I have to replace now. Okay, so the insurance company is gonna pay to replace my shit but still, this has been a fucking nightmare. I’m the victim here, damn it, but everyone is making it out like it’s all my fault that poor little Sunshine’s alone in the big city.
My fault! Can you believe it? Fuck, where’s my sympathy? I don’t get any of course!
And why?
Because big, bad Brian Kinney took home a twink and popped his cherry. And now for some unknown, fucked up reason, I’m responsible? Fuck that.
It was a fuck. Well, okay, so it was more like 20 fucks, but who’s counting? Shit.
When he opens that door, this hotel and all the other protective forces at play here will be gone and I swear I’m gonna wring his little neck. I’m dragging his ass back to Pittsburgh and that’s it.
I’m done.
No more.
I will finish what I started and push him out of my life. For good.
I never should've let him in in the first place. I was just feeling sorry for him. That’s all it was.
I don’t care about Justin. So what if his Dad hates what he is? My dad hates me too. I survived and he will too. He’s a tough kid.
I don’t care about any of that. He’s just a fuck.
A great fuck, which I can’t seem to figure out. I’ve had lots of great fucks and I didn’t want them again.
Why did I take him home again and again?
Why did I break my one cardinal rule for this kid?
Why? Why? Why? I’m so fucking mixed up.
Maybe I’m not really mad. I mean, when they told me where he was and I jumped into that cab to come here, my heart was racing with anger but when it twisted around in my chest, I let out a deep sigh. I was relieved. He was safe. I’d found him. Fuck!
When did I turn into such a fucking dyke? When did I go soft on this kid? Well, I never actually went soft on him. In fact, I was always hard when he was near me...
Christ! Listen to me. I don’t give a fuck about this kid. When did I have to start telling myself that I didn’t care over and over because it was becoming difficult to believe?
Shit.
Blowing him off the morning after was easy. His face showed the same look of disappointment that I’d seen a thousand times before. I felt nothing. I put the jeep in gear, pulled away with screeching tires and left him standing there.
It’s what I did to them all. Talk of me in their dreams, a flash of my dazzling smile, a grand exit and it was over. Gone. Forgotten.
Then that night he showed back up again. Fucking twat. He didn’t understand the rules. He didn’t know that he was supposed to just accept the fact that he’d been used. He was last night’s fuck, that’s it. End of story.
I pushed him back outside and closed the door. It was easy, besides, I had the next fuck standing right there.
He was supposed to just be gone…and forgotten, just like all the rest.
But Mr. Goodfuck just had to do it.
He just had to make me feel guilty. That was his goal and it worked.
It worked too well, I think, because when I went after him and gave him my standard monologue about how things are, that guilt changed into something else. He wasn’t supposed to cry, damn it. I wasn’t prepared to deal with that and I felt something. I don’t know what, but it ached in my head, it twinged in my chest, it hurt. My stomach did back flips and it made me nauseous.
He put the car in gear, pulled away with screeching tires and left me standing there with my thoughts all twisted up inside. I didn’t like it.
Not one bit.
Yes, I think I can blame this whole fucking mess on Mr. Goodfuck because after that I suddenly found myself thinking he wasn’t so bad after all and that the back flips were kind of exciting. I even thought he was kind of sweet and I told Mikey just that. Me, Brian Kinney, calling someone sweet. Fuck! That should've been my first sign to stay the fuck away from him.
But I didn't.
I actually thought I could show him the ropes like I wished someone had for me; my own little protégé. Didn’t mean I had to fuck him. I was just going to keep an eye out. You know, make sure he was okay and didn’t get hurt. There are some real fuck-ups out there. So I just kept my eye on him.
But then he showed up at Babylon and started strutting his stuff. Did he know what he was getting into? Those guys would have eaten him for lunch and fucked him in a way he wasn't ready for yet. I had only shown him the nicer side of sex ... I hadn't shown him the primal side. Well, I had to protect him, right?
Fuck me, I took him home and fucked him again and again. He kept wanting more so who was I to say no? I even began to ease him into the harder stuff…just a little bit. The slightly savage-like pounding in your ass when you're on all fours and fucking like animals. I mean, someone had to teach him; someone that wouldn't physically hurt him. It might as well have been me.
And as it turned out, he loved it that way the most…the wilder the better. I can only imagine what he’d be like if I really let loose on him. But yeah, he fucking loved it, but it still didn’t mean anything.
We were just fucking.
Then I actually started enjoying his company and shit. He’s smart, talented and funny; not a twink at all by the usual definition. Sure he’s a blond piece of cake on the outside and he’s definitely got the creamy filling on the inside, I know that first hand, but he’s also got brains. More than most people. I liked having him around. He wasn’t so bad.
You know he has guts too.
I admired him for having the courage to admit to his parents that he was gay. Fuck, I never did that. In fact, I never even really thought about how courageous you’d have to be to tell your parents until he seemed so shocked that I still hadn’t told mine. I told myself, and him, that it was because it wasn’t any of their fucking business and I still believe that to a certain degree, but I guess that’s really just an excuse. My parents already thought that I was a worthless piece of shit so what would I have really lost by telling them? Not much, I guess. But Justin … he had a lot to lose because he was their pride and joy.
And now…he’s…not.
Yeah, you have to admire his guts. So that’s one more reason why when they found out and it all went bad, I wanted to help him out.
He came out proud and his dad wanted to stick him back in the closet. I just couldn’t stand by and let that happen. I didn’t want him to have to hide from his parents like me or hide at his job like Mikey and Ted. Shit. What am I saying? What do I care? Fuck.
But what did I do to deserve all this? I just thought…damn…I didn’t do anything wrong. None of this was supposed to happen. My life is turned upside down now. I have to fix this and quick. If I’m really responsible for him like everyone says then this is up to me. I have to make him understand, I just can’t love him, I just...can't. I won’t do it. It’s impossible.
I finally reach the door. It’s the only thing standing between me and the life that I used to know. I knock softly.
Shit, I’m a little nervous and those back flips aren’t helping. This is gonna be hard. He’ll probably cry again. But this time, I’m prepared. His emotional display won’t get in there this time. I’ve turned everything off. I feel nothing. I don’t care and I certainly don’t love him.
I don’t care.
I really don’t care.
Why doesn’t he answer the fucking door? He doesn’t want to annoy me any more than I already am. He doesn’t want to do that. I’m armed and ready to break his heart and get my life back. Damn it, I haven’t slept all night, if the little shit is sleeping he needs to wake his ass up. I have to get this over with.
I’m so fucking tired, I can feel the blood pumping quickly through my body; it’s making it hard to breathe. ‘Open the door!’ I scream in my head. It can’t protect him any longer.
My heart pounds hard in my chest…I pound harder on the door. I’m ready. I can do this.
I lean against the doorframe and take a deep breath. He opens the door and within seconds my anger reemerges. He’s nonchalant, carefree; wearing one of the hotel robes and chewing with his mouth full of food. I’m tired and hungry and he looks like he’s on vacation at fucking Club Med or something. The little shit.
I put one hand on the door and one on his chest and bulldoze my way through. Both the door and Justin hit the walls behind them with a thud as I stomp into the room. Serves them both right. Damn that protective door and damn him!
"Wanna come in?" he mumbles through his food.
I walk over to the dining room table that has plates of food lying about. Has the fucker been eating all night? My stomach growls at me to feed it. I pick up a chicken leg and throw it back down. I’m not feeding the growling animal inside me. That, I’m still in control of. Besides, it’s better to keep it wild; it’ll keep me angry.
I turn to look at him and he’s not the least bit worried about what I’m gonna do. He seems almost happy to see me. I can fix that.
"Well why not since I'm paying for it?" I snap back at him sharply.
His smile fades and he looks down. Good, be ashamed. He should be.
I continue to survey the room and think about how much the little asshole has spent. It’s a fucking two-room suite…in fucking New York City. Even when he’s on the run he still has to live like he’s some country club well-to-do. Fucking spoiled brat. On my fucking credit card!
He starts talking again like I’m in the mood for casual conversation and we’re at a cocktail party. “New York’s amazing. I went out clubbing until six in the morning…”
What the fuck? I’m stuck in a car driving across country for hours and he’s out fucking and having a good ole time? And that look on his face, the smug little shit. Does he think that will impress me? Right. I’m Brian Kinney, club hound. Shit kid, don’t try to be like me…it ain’t all it’s cracked up to be. But he doesn’t fool me. I’m the king of bullshit and I know it when I hear it.
“…and the guys, whew, the guys were…”
That’s enough of this fucking bullshit. I’ve had it.
I push away another fucking plate of food to antagonize the hungry beast and cut him off in mid-sentence. "Did you really think you were going to get away with this?" I ask, narrowing my eyes and furrowing my brows sending the message that I’m pissed, damn it, this is not the time to inform me of how great the fucks are in New York.
"I knew sooner or later someone would come and arrest me…”
Damn straight. You stole my credit card, you little shit. I knew he wasn’t stupid.
“…but I was hoping you would find me first," he says with a slight smile.
And there it is…he was hoping.
I can see it.
It’s written all over his face, but there’s something else there too. He’s trying to hide it, but I can still see it. It's fear.
He should be scared; he doesn’t know what I’m going to do, or maybe he does. Fuck, I don’t know. But that hope or that courage or that something that he has, took over, and he put it on the line. Put his feelings out there and just let them hang in the air like a helium balloon tied to the back of a chair. He’s wrong to do that when it comes to me. I don't care and I will probably only hurt him. I could pop that balloon so easily and all his hopes with it. And I'm here to do just that.
I don’t care… remember?
So he wanted me to find him? Well I did and now it’s over.
"Well congratulations.” I tell him in the best sarcastic voice that I can muster on no sleep. “Now pack your shit because we're going back..."
"Back? Back to what?” he cuts me off.
I turn to look at him. Oh shit, here it comes. Brace myself.
“My parent's don't want me...”
See? That twinge in my heart, that ache in my head, that pain in my gut…it all starts to creep up again. Fuck. I thought I was prepared for it this time.
His parents don’t want him and he’s right. At least about his dad, the jury's still out on his mom. But I know how that feels… to not be wanted. It's the worst feeling ever. Shit. It's getting harder to stay unaffected but I know he doesn't want my pity. I have to stay strong.
“You...”
There’s this pause and I know he’s trying not to lose it. I swallow to help him remove the lump that I'm sure is in his throat. I admire him for trying to be so tough but still…
“…don’t want me.”
I should be glad he finally understands that, but that pause and that pitch in his voice when he said it...it’s all so dramatic. The lump that I swallowed for him lands in the pit of my stomach with a thud and my muscles tighten around it. Ugh. Why do I suddenly feel like such a shit?
“My life's a fucking mess, Brian."
He’s right again, it is, and I find myself wanting to help him.
Again.
To look out for him.
Again.
I have to do the right thing. For me as well as for him because, hell, my life’s a fucking mess now too. Look at me. My insides are playing pingpong and no one's winning.
So I tell him, “Well whose isn’t?”
Just so he knows he’s not alone and in a strange weird way, it comforts me to have said it.
“But we’re going to straighten that out.” I’m feeling so in control right now, I think. We got through that with no tears. This is suddenly going much better. I’ve devised a plan and we have to stick to it. This is what we’re gonna do, “First thing when we get back we’re gonna find you a place a live…”
“Why can’t I live with you?” he interrupts.
I’m surprised because I think he really knows the answer to that but I look at him and I just don’t know that he does. He seems to be seriously asking... or hoping.
That fucking balloon.
He’s setting himself up for me to deflate him again but my heart’s just not in it anymore, if it even ever was. This up, down, turn around fucking roller coaster is making me queasy.
I have to explain that I don’t love him, that I don’t care, but I find myself wanting to go easy on him. This is gonna hurt no matter what I say so I decide to take the easiest route possible for him and blame myself. It's always my fault anyway. Right?
“Because my place is only big enough for one person and that’s me,” I tell him. I may have said ‘my place’ but what I really mean is my life and my heart is only big enough for one person.
All that hope, all that anticipation of getting the answer he wanted drains from his face and his head drops as the balloon hits the floor. I think he understood the double meaning.
Fuck.
I stiffen my back, walk towards him and touch his shoulder just to give him some reassurance that everything’s gonna be fine. I needed it as well. But the touch sparks under my fingers and for just a split second I think about how he always sparks me…how he sets me on fire…how dangerous he is…how excited he makes me…and maybe it’s a sign. But, I shake it off. I probably just dragged my feet across the carpet.
But with all the emotional baggage aired out, finally, we can move on to the practicalities and the reason that I’m here...
“Now listen up,” I tell him to proceed with my plan. “We’re going back to glorious Pittsburgh…”
I see more food on the nightstand by the bed. It awakens the hungry beast and with a loud growl from deep inside me, my anger starts to resurface. I push my tongue into my cheek and shake my head to keep from biting his head off. My hungry body walks me toward the nightstand and the food to get a closer look as I continue, “You’re going back to school, you’re going to turn 18…”
That makes him smile. He likes that thought. Fucker. And then…
“…You’re gonna pay back every cent you charged on my credit card.”
Yep, wiped that smile right off his face. Welcome to adulthood, Sonny boy.
I pick up the drink on the nightstand and smell it. He ordered wine? Well what else would you order to go with lobster and caviar? The little twat. I don’t know whether to be proud that he has a fag’s good taste or rip his head off at his audacity for spending my money so frivolously. I never know exactly what to think about the things he does but I know this…he’s definitely paying me back every fucking penny.
But the lobster and the wine and the confusion…it’s the same confusion that I feel all the time when it comes to him.
He infuriates me and yet he intrigues me.
I want to protect him like a child, but fuck his brains out like the hottest trick.
I admire him and feel sorry for him.
How can someone make you so angry and so excitedly happy at the same time?
How can someone pull on your heart with the same determination that they use to jerk on your dick?
How can someone have so much strength that you wish you had just a tenth of what they had, but then also be weak enough that they need you to care about them?
“By the way,” he starts to say, pulling me from my thoughts.
I turn to look at him. I think he starts to understand that I could be really hateful to him right now and I’m not. I’m maintaining my coolness unlike after the robbery and I guess he feels he owes me the truth.
“…I didn’t go out clubbing.”
I didn’t really think he did but I do appreciate him being honest.
“I didn’t even leave the room.”
He’s embarrassed to admit it and kind of wrinkles his nose. God, that’s cute. But does he think I’m disappointed in him? I’m not. Christ, he went all the way to New York City. Alone. That took some major fucking balls. When I ran away, I just went as far as Mikey’s house.
But I understand what he means so I try to explain that I do, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”
He seems relieved. So am I. This went pretty well, I’d say. I feel the tension on my insides release so I let my guard down and relax. I'm beyond the hungry phase now and the growling subsides. I’m suddenly feeling really tired. I walk back towards him and the doorway, scratching my stomach, soothing out the kinks from all the earlier knots. That’s just a thing that I do when I’m recuperating from a stressful situation. I don’t think he knows that about me, but I can’t be sure.
“You look like shit,” he says.
‘Gee thanks,’ I think to myself. Of course I do, ‘I’ve been up all fucking night...racked with worry, with guilt, with anger...all because of YOU,’ that’s what I want to yell at him but when he adds, “You should go take a shower”...I don’t.
A shower sounds really good right now and I stop dead in my tracks as a flash of him naked, wet, soapy and washing my back crosses my mind. No, that’s not what I’m here for. I shake off the vision and focus on the soothing hot shower that sounds really good.
“Yeah, I probably should. I must stink,” I say as I smell my armpits and realize that he’s right. I take my eyes off of him for one little second to throw my jacket on the bed, that's when I hear it, and it suddenly changes everything.
“Yeah,” he agrees.
The way he says it goes straight to my dick. It’s almost a whisper, almost a hiss. That one little word makes the thought of a cleansing and relaxing shower a distant memory and sends my thoughts in a new direction. Lust and desire. The vision I had a moment ago...him naked, wet, soapy. His eyes wander over my body. Shit... him, sex, fucking. A new vision...I blink it away.
The thought that I stink has turned him on? That’s just nasty in a really hot kind of way. This fucking kid just loves it down and dirty and his imagination in the bedroom makes me look like a prude. To look at him you’d never know it, but I do.
Fuck, I probably know him better than anyone.
Curiosity gets the better of me and I raise my eyebrows. What does he have in mind this time?
He left his tongue peeking out after he spoke and I have instant thoughts of where I want his tongue to go. I feel my ass quiver and my dick twitch. I’m getting very aroused, very quickly.
Gets me every-fucking-time. Fuck.
“Sounds like you had a rough night,” he purrs.
He fucking purrs!
He unties the belt on his robe and opens it wide to show me what’s underneath. Absolutely fucking nothing! And everything. I can’t look. He slides it off his shoulders and lets it fall to the floor. He smiles at me with that little smirk that he has. He’s so fucking confident that I’m going to cave. But I keep my eyes on his face…where it’s safe. Well, safe-r anyway.
Do I want it? Of course I do, I always want it...but I'm tired and hungry and angry. Right? At least I thought I was. Shit. Besides, I didn't come here for sex. I came here to drag his ass back to the Pitts… to do the right thing. I have to resist, will my dick to calm down, push the thoughts of his nakedness out of my mind.
He takes a step towards me.
I can't help it, my eyes lower to take a peek. His perfectly shaped pink dick is hard and standing up proudly. My mouth waters. I think it just winked at me.
I want it.
Shit.
But no… I can't.
He’s naked and coming towards me. I’m supposed to resist this?
I just can't.
I’m tired and weak and god, he's so...
He's closing in, getting closer, so close. He's trying to suck me in. I can feel the pull on my body and my dick twitches again.
This isn't how this was supposed to go. I'm the aggressor. I don't get seduced. But damn, he's trying and if I'm honest, I'd have to admit that it's fucking working. I need help to resist. If I take him now, I will never get rid of him. But there's no one here to help me. No Debbie to yell at me. No Mikey to whine at me. No Ted to mock me. I'm alone.
With him.
He takes another step and looks down to find the bulge growing in my pants. He sees it.
I’m so fucked.
"Need help?" he asks.
If he only knew.
Yes, I need help. Help to stop this. Help to resist. Help to do the right thing.
I know he meant if I needed help with my clothes, and I guess I need help with that too because I’m suddenly paralyzed and can’t fucking move.
He reaches for the buttons on my shirt and in my last ditch effort to resist, I manage to brush his hands away. He reaches again and I just don’t have the strength to fight it anymore. I give in. Fuck it. Who am I trying to kid? I’ve never been able to resist him and what’s wrong with just doing it one more time?
He unbuttons my shirt one button at a time. He’s working intently, watching his fingers move as he goes. I lean down, rest my forehead against his and just watch him. He lifts his head and our eyes meet as he opens my shirt and pushes it off my shoulders. He knows he has me now. Little shit.
He tosses my shirt aside quickly and starts pulling at the hem of my undershirt.
I normally don’t like being submissive but I’m tired and somewhat curious. How far is he going to push this? How far am I going to let him push it?
I guess a little more because as he tugs, my arms go up and he pulls the shirt over my head. My vision is blocked for a split second and when I emerge on the other side, our eyes lock again. His pupils are large and the blue surrounding them is brighter than usual. They're glazed over and reflect the light from the window.
They dart back and forth…rapidly. I feel mesmerized ...
… hypnotized …
… lost.
I can't seem to take my eyes off them. I can't look away. I can't even blink.
We’re staring at each other in this stand off of wonder. How much control is he going to take? How much control am I going to let him have?
I don’t think that either one of us really knows for sure. He opens his mouth and leans in. I think he’s going to kiss me, I lean in too, but he doesn’t. He drops to his knees instead... still watching me.
His eyes questioning.
My eyes giving permission.
He turns his attention to the front of my pants and makes quick work of the top button and zipper. He places his hands on either side of my pants and looks back up at me as he starts to pull them down. His eyes still questioning just how much I'm going to let him dominate before I take over.
My hands join his and I help him get the stiff denim over my ass, but then I realize that I kind of like letting him do want he wants so I let go and let him finish on his own. Now I'm questioning the same thing.
Shit.
How did this happen again?
He reaches his hand around behind me and rests his fingers against that sensitive spot on the small of my back. He starts kissing across my stomach adding nips and licks in between.
I’m watching him…it’s so fucking hot. My dick twitches and lifts up to bump against his throat. That little touch electrifies me and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from reacting to it. I can’t let him know what he’s doing to me.
He busses all the way up my chest as he stands and when he reaches my neck, starts this slow drag of his tongue. It's warm at first then the air hits the wet skin he leaves behind and it turns cold. I shiver against the draft. But his tongue…it's scratchy and slippery at the same time and feels so good against my skin.
I give in to it and allow the pressure of the lick to push my head back and I momentarily lose myself in the multiple sensations… the wetness and the chills… the quiet sound of scraping as his tongue slides up my neck and under my unshaven chin. When the contact breaks, I’m jarred to reality and lift my head back up.
His face is right there… coming at me, with his mouth open, drawing my attention to what I know is hidden inside. It’s pink and wet with just the right amount of roughness and the right amount of smoothness. I really want it in my mouth to keep my own tongue company, but I don’t want to make it too easy for him. He teased me with that approach just a few minutes ago and I’m not going to let him do it again. I have to keep some resemblance of pride and not let him know that I’ve gone completely weak.
Besides, I want to know how serious he is about this seduction. Sex for Justin is new and exciting every time as he continues to learn and try things. I haven’t had that feeling of newness for quite a long time now, but having sex with Justin as he experiments with his body and works out his roles and boundaries gives me that exciting feeling of innocence that I’ve missed. I get to test him and push him and see what he’ll do. I never know how he’ll react so there’s this moment of anticipation that churns in my gut as I wait for his response.
So this is another one of those times and I want to see what he’s made of. He started this and I ask myself… does he have what it takes to completely carry it out? … What if I challenge his control? … Will he continue to dominate?
I place my hand across his face and push him down on the bed…hard. He lands with a plop. He’s surprised. He wasn’t expecting that.
I can see the thoughts racing through his mind as his eyebrows pull in just a little bit and furrow just above the bridge of his nose, ‘Why did he do that? Was it rejection? Was it a test?’
I take a step closer to him and watch him, challenging him silently with my eyes. ‘Whatcha gonna do, Sunshine?’ I wait and the anticipation starts stirring inside me.
The tension in his face subsides and I see those furrowed brows relax and rise up just a smidgen as he decides it was a test. He lunges forward, pressing his cherry red lips against my belly and resumes kissing and licking and nipping at my skin. Challenge accepted. Good boy.
I don’t know if it’s because I’m so tired that I don’t have the energy to move or if it’s because I’m surprised that he took the challenge, but whatever it is, I’m standing here with my dick sticking straight out at his throat… watching him.
Watching every move he makes.
Watching his mouth move across my abs, watching his tongue lick across my chest.
I can feel everything and it tingles all over my body.
My dick twitches and once more, the tip of my cock bumps against his adam’s apple. The stickiness of my pre-cum glues me to him for just a split second. It tickles him, he swallows, the lump in his throat moves… breaking the sticky seal and pulling us apart. I feel the loss shoot through me and the lump…the one that was in his throat before he swallowed…is now in mine.
Fuck.
I'm very relaxed by the licking and kissing but I'm also so fucking horny right now that I don't how much longer I can let him play like this before I grab his head and shove my dick down his throat, or better yet, throw him on the bed and shove it up his ass.
Then...
He bites my nipple, the little shit.
He bites it hard and a sharp needle-like pain stabs me in my toes. Who knew that your body was wired that way? I certainly didn't.
But...I’m no longer relaxed. He woke up that animal inside me and I growl. Now he’ll just have to deal.
He wants to play rough? I can do rough.
I've taught him everything else, might as well teach him what it’s like to be fucked into the mattress…
To be folded in half with the blood rushing to your brain and be pummeled relentlessly until you almost pass out…
To be fucked so viciously, so vigorously, so violently, upside down, that your ass is on fire and aches for days.
The good ache, of course.
I can introduce him to all that.
I hope he knows what he’s awakened inside me 'cause I'm up and hard and even though I have no control when it comes to turning him down, I do have control when it comes to cumming. I’m older and experienced and can last a veeeerrrry long time. He's in for quite a ride.
I place my hands on his shoulders and forcibly push him down on the bed. His body bounces on the springy mattress and his head jars backwards. That was exactly what he wanted and he proves it by darting his tongue out and grazing his bottom lip (which drives me fucking wild) as he scampers further back on the bed to make more room.
He’s watching me and I stare him down with a threatening glare, but he doesn’t cower.
I toe off my shoes and step out of my jeans so quickly that I almost stumble…but I don’t…I keep staring at him. I can actually see his eyes go from a bright royal blue to deep navy in a matter of seconds. Fuck, my dick leaks and the droplet lands on my foot and oozes down between my toes.
Just watching that sight of him makes me forget why I’m here, forget everything. I forget the fact that I was angry when I got here. I forget that I’m tired and weak and that my stomach’s growling it’s hunger at me over and over. I forget that I was just suppose to retrieve this brave little lost boy and take him home so that I could make amends for all those rotten things that are supposed to be my fault.
But most of all, I forget about doing the right thing, the thing that I was going to be so proud of myself for doing…just this once. But I don’t know what the right thing is right now. The only thing that actually feels like the right thing, right now, right this very minute, is being with Justin, being inside him and giving him exactly what he wants.
Exactly what he asked for when he dropped his robe, when he peeled me out of my clothes and…I didn’t forget this one…when he bit me and sent that stabbing pain through my toes. That’s the stuff that I haven’t forgotten. He wants me to take him…and he wants me to play rough.
Maybe to punish him… for stealing my credit card, for making me come after him, for forgetting to set the alarm… for all the things that I know he didn’t mean to do. But maybe it’s not about what he wants… maybe it’s about what he needs.
He raises up on his elbows and waits to see what I’m going to do. The anticipation’s getting the better of him. His chest is heaving and his mouth’s hung open.
Yeah, this is definitely the right thing to do and all my thoughts say fuck the lobster and wine and two-room hotel suites and robberies and all night drives with Barbra’s greatest hits. Just fuck everything. But most of all… fuck Justin. Right now. Right this very minute.
I’ll give him what he wants… what he needs… what we both need. But I’ll do it my way.
Because if this is going to be the last time, then it better be one more fuck he won’t ever forget.
I crawl up his body, careful not to touch him until I’m hovering directly over him then I grab his wrists and pin them over his head, making him fall onto his back. I push my knees out and lay flat on top of him. The weight of my body crushes him and pushes the air out of his lungs.
I hold him down tightly. He tries to move… but can’t. He tries to take a breath… but can’t. His eyes widen… he’s a little bit scared and a lot turned on. It reminds me of our first night and my dick grows impossibly harder.
I swoop down, cover his full open mouth and push my tongue in forcibly. I swirl it around, sweeping against the bumpy texture of the roof of his mouth and the smoothness of his teeth. He returns the intense kiss with the same passion but I know he’s getting desperate for some air.
He has all the signs…his chest tightens beneath me, his low murmuring moans are getting higher in their pitch and his hot, wet tongue is dueling faster and faster. He’s getting very close to panic but I’m not going to be the one to pull away; it’s part of the control, part of this torture that I’ve decided to put him through… it’s his punishment.
If he needs a breath, he’ll have to take it. I won’t stop him.
When he can’t take another second, he reluctantly twists his head to the side, his eyes closed tightly and his body tensed and flexed. I take mercy on him and lift myself up just enough. As soon as the pressure’s off him, he gasps to fill his lungs and immediately starts panting.
He held his breath so long, I bet he’s dizzy and just for a split second, I hold off to make sure he’s okay. He opens his eyes, smiles at me then pivots his hips to rub his throbbing hard cock against mine.
I knew he’d get into this but to keep things going, I don’t smile back. Just a smidgen of apprehension is all it takes to keep that kind of exhilaration building and he’s not anywhere near where I want him to be yet.
He lifts his head to kiss me but I duck to the side and I drag my stubbled face across the delicate skin of his cheek until I reach his neck. I attack it…nipping and sucking and biting and kissing.
He’s moaning and breathing hard in my ear. Those sounds fuel my fire and I attack him some more. I can make many men moan at my touch, but there’s something different about his. There’s a wildness in his moans that I can’t explain, but it ignites me deep inside, it makes my balls burning hot.
I release his wrists and slide my hands down his arms and the sides of his lean body. I follow the path with more kisses. My scruffy face scratches all the way and leaves behind a trail of splotchy redness on his pale skin. It’s so easy to mark him…I like it and from the sounds he’s making, he obviously does too.
When I reach his chest, I flick my tongue over his nipple a couple of times until I feel it harden. It contracts and stands up erect so I pinch its peak between my teeth. I do it to send a sharp jolt of pain through his body like he did to me, and it works. He moans again loudly and arches his back so quickly and with so much force that he almost bucks me off him.
I grab his wrists again to hold on and plant them firmly on either side of his head. I dip my head lower and start kissing down his flat stomach. He releases a guttural groan and his belly tremors against my lips.
The more he reacts to my torture, the more I want to give.
I probe my tongue into the deep well of his navel and swirl it around. His hands fight my grip so I let him go and start rubbing up and down his chest. His skin is smooth all over except for the hard nubs of his nipples raking against my palms. But as I kiss and lick more across the sensitive area just above his hairline, the once smooth texture of his skin turns rough and bumpy from the chills stampeding over his body. The tiny hairs on my ass stand up as it makes me shiver as well.
It’s the way he reacts to what I’m doing that gets me so fucking hot.
My dick is screaming at me to forego the foreplay and move things along but I have one more thing that I need before I let it give Justin what he needs.
I hook my long fingers over his round shoulders and lower my face to his groin. I capture his hair between my lips and give it a tug. He arches up again with a gasp, knowing my mouth is now near his dick. He lifts his head and looks down at me so I take another tuft and tug again.
His eyes are begging me to kiss his cock, to suck it, to lick it. I respond with a wicked grin and move to the side, giving the crease of his leg a long lick and watching how he reacts. He whimpers and squeezes his eyes shut. I lick the other side and his head plops back down on the pillows with a loud sigh.
Frustration’s part of the torture, Sunshine, and I grin again.
I bite him there once softly, then twice a little harder and he yelps. His hands zoom to my head, grabbing fistfuls of hair and trying to pull me away from that tender area. But I ignore it and bite him again on the other side.
His legs fly up in protest but I turn that move against him and take full advantage of what was inadvertently offered by pressing my hands against his inner thighs and spreading him wide open… stretching his muscles as far as they’ll go, checking his flexibility.
He’ll need to be limber for what I’ve got planned later.
He groans and his fists clench my hair harder. His puckered hole is right in front of my face and I see it flexing its muscles for some attention.
His once pink dick is now a deeper shade of coral. It bobs in the air and makes his full sac jiggle with every bounce. I lick up the rigid shaft and scoop out the clear liquid pre-cum that’s pooling at the tip.
His hands release their tight grip, his legs relax against me and he sighs.
His relief is premature; I haven’t even started yet.
I expel a gush of scorching air on his balls… he tenses and cries out. His dick jumps and spits out another drop of the sweet stuff. I’ve got him teetering on the edge again, right where I want him.
I rest my chin lightly against his balls and slowly move my head back and forth…scratching them with prickly whiskers. He takes a deep breath in and I keep doing it, wondering how long he’ll hold his breath this time.
His legs start to quiver and his face scrunches up. I stop…he breathes and I suck his full balls right into my mouth. I massage them with my tongue to ease some of the stinging burn then roll them around.
I tug and they fall from my mouth. I work my way up to the tip of his cock again, following the zigzag path of that pulsating vein and he starts panting... anticipating a much needed blowjob. But when I get to the end of the road, I only take a taste and move away… leaving him to groan in dismay.
It quickly turns into a moan when I wedge my face between his cheeks and push his legs further back. I stiffen my tongue and wriggle it around the wrinkled folds of his hole. It spasms around me and tries to draw me inside.
I quit swallowing and let all the saliva that’s rapidly forming inside my continuously watering mouth spill out and slick up his hole. I push it inside with my tongue, opening him up and making him wet.
I release my hold on one leg and it flops down on the bed, shifting his ass and pulling his hole away from my tongue… making him grunt in protest. I use my now-free hand to slide a finger into his drenched channel and he gasps, lifting his leg back up and holding himself open for me. Oooh, he likes that… makes me grin.
I push up and flick at the tip of his cock then wrap my warm, moist lips around the swollen head as I pull my long finger from his ass and push it back in, gently fucking him with it while suckling the head of his dick.
I’m not doing much, just teasing and playing with him, but this is the first real attention that his cock’s had so far so he reacts as if this was the best blowjob he’s ever had. See? That’s what torture does… plays tricks with your mind.
He gasps and pants and begins rocking his hips as he pulls on his knees, opening his legs wider. He’s so gone. This is all part of my plan and I let out an amused huff that it’s working so well.
I shift my knees underneath me, let his dick fall from my lips and slap against his belly, flinging my spit and his juices into the well of his navel. I continue to slide my slicked finger in and out of him for distraction as I quietly lean back and reach for my jeans to retrieve a condom. He’s thrashing around enough and making enough noise that he doesn’t feel the bed shift or hear the tear of the condom wrapper as I rip it apart with my teeth. I slip it on me one handed…to be ready to go when the time comes.
I take a deep breath to mentally prepare myself for the next step then pull my finger from inside him. I sit back and… wait… and watch… inwardly about to go out of my mind… I want to fuck him so bad… but outwardly maintaining an essence of coolness and complete control. With no contact whatsoever, I wonder how long he’ll…
Almost immediately…he opens his eyes and lifts his head. He sees me just sitting there, not doing a goddamn thing. He doesn’t know that inside I’m right where he is… trying to control my breathing and stay focused, but then again, he’s not supposed to know.
“Please,” he pleads in a dry, raspy voice. It’s the first word he’s spoken in quite a while. In fact, the last words to come out of his mouth were when he asked me if I needed help. Funny that he’s now the one begging me to help him. I don’t respond because well, that’s the plan.
He reaches for his swollen erection and starts stroking the shaft trying to get some type of relief. He taps his finger on the tip and lets out a groan. Fuck. I have to swallow just so I don’t let one out myself.
“Need some help?” I ask, maintaining my straight face. His eyes widen with frustrating realization that what I’m doing is on purpose and that the torture I’m trying to inflict isn’t over yet.
“Brian,” he breathes out in a deep-throated tremor trying to get me to weaken my resolve.
He removes his hand from his dick and nudges me with his foot begging me to come and get him. He wants it so bad and shit, so do I. It’s taking every ounce of control I have to drag this out for just one more minute.
That’s all I need because when you’re in desperate need of release, like he is now, one minute, just sixty little seconds, feels like hours and hours and at this point, I don’t think either one of us can handle longer than that.
That’s the worst part of trying to torture someone with time, because it’s not just them having to live through that moment, you’re right there with them, waiting it out in agony. My own dick is barking at me to do something and my heart is pounding, working hard to pump the blood through my body, but the way it feels right now, I’d swear that every ounce of blood I have is culminating between my legs. With every pulse of blood that enters my dick, pre-come leaks out. I’m going to fill this fucking condom before I even get inside him.
I know he’s on the edge, and he’s trying not to fall off. He needs to let go. Just let himself fall. I want him to ‘cause then when I catch him…well, it will just fucking blow his mind.
I wait. His breaths getting more and more uneven. His face contorting and his fists clenching tight. Fuck, Justin. Do something, I silently yell at him, show me that you’re just going to die if I don’t touch you. I think he heard me because then…finally, fucking finally…he falls off, growling at me viciously through clenched teeth and kicking me. Kicking me hard.
I spring into action, rising up on my knees, snaking my hand under his thighs, throwing his legs over my shoulders, lunging forward, folding him in half, slamming my dick up his ass and sinking all the way in to the hilt. It takes my breath away and makes him grunt loudly. It happens so fast that I thrust twice before he even knows what hit him.
I capture his lips for a deep kiss and ravage every part of his mouth as my hips rock in and out of him with wild abandon. When he finally realizes that it’s on, and the sting of my quick entry burns through him, his squeeze shut and he starts moaning into the kiss and twisting his hips to match my rhythm.
His leg slips off my shoulder, making it harder for me to get to the depths that I want. I scoop it back up and plow into him harder. I just can’t get enough. It’s never enough. I need to be deeper.
He grunts into my mouth as my tongue greedily attacks him… I just can’t get enough of that either.
I just can’t get deep enough inside him.
If I could just get my dick deep enough up his ass and my tongue far enough down his throat, could they meet somewhere in the middle? What would that be like? I pause just for a second, breaking the kiss and stopping my movements.
What the fuck kind of thought was that? Fuck.
I look down at him. His eyes are glazed over in confusion, wondering why I stopped. He blinks those long eyelashes at me, pants warm breath in my face and wiggles his hips. “Briiaaan,” he whispers with mild urgency, pleading with me to continue.
It gives me a new fire and I suddenly find myself pushing his knees forward with so much force, his feet hit the wall above his head and he’s practically flipped upside down. I rise up and start driving into him, deeper and harder than before, my balls slapping against his ass. He grimaces as the new position squishes his body, but it feels so good, I don’t want to stop.
His face flushes red and he pushes his legs back against me and now I’m wrestling for control. I let go and grab his thighs to get a better grip and adjust my stance… I toss his leg back over my shoulder, lift him up and slam his ass down on my lap at just the right angle. He winces and cries out.
It’s that sharp jab of pain that I know so well, the one I wanted to introduce him to. He’ll learn to like it, learn to love it…it will become the thing he secretly craves on those special occasions, that itch that just sometimes has to be scratched. But the first time your body feels it, it doesn’t understand, it can’t process the feeling.
I do it again.
He shouts, “Fuck!” and his body jolts.
He instinctively bucks upwards and kicks his legs out…I almost lose my balance and his fucking leg falls down again. I grip his thigh harder this time to hold it in place. I start to ask him if he liked that but before the words come out of my mouth, he’s got his hands in my hair and pulling my face down as he lifts his head to kiss me.
It’s a ferocious kiss and I know that I don’t need to even ask the question… he liked it all right.
I let go of his thighs and plant my hands on either side of his face. He thinks I’m trying to break the kiss so his neck muscles tighten as he tries to fight against me. But that’s not what I was trying to do, I push harder and finally he gives in, letting his head fall back on the pillow…I follow, never breaking the kiss or the relentless jabbing in his battered hole.
I comb my hands through his hair, brushing it off his forehead and slicking it back with his sweat. We search for the right angle, twisting our heads this way then that way, devouring each other in hungered kisses.
I go for his neck and he hisses against my nips and sucks. His fingers dig into my back, pulling me closer to him, pressing our stomachs together and catching his dick in between them. His legs fall; he digs his heels into my lower back for leverage and thrusts against me, rocking his hips to rub his cock for some relief.
He’s wanting to cum now, but I’m just not ready. I could, but I don’t want this to be over yet.
I sit back up and fling his legs back over my shoulders. That’s really starting to piss me off. I’m supposed to be in control here, but these forces are working against me and his fucking leg won’t stay where I put it.
I plunge into him hard, warning his leg not to fall, then fold him over again and kiss him some more. His hands wrap around the nape of my neck smushing my face to him then gripping my hair and grabbing my ear and stroking my face as we kiss and kiss.
Every deep penetrating jab into his ass makes his hand clench into a fist and whatever is in the way gets tugged and pulled…my hair, my ear, my cheek. We’re gnawing on each other’s mouth, he bucks upwards and his leg slips down my arm.
I break the kiss, panting uncontrollably. He kisses my face, licks my chin, bites at my nose. Fuck. I rest my forehead against his… I just need a second to catch my breath and get the emerging orgasm under control. But he has other plans…he teases me with his tongue, licking all over my face… then stops.
“Come on. Fuck me,” he demands sharply. I put my hand on his face… fingers sprawled out on one side and my thumb on the other. I hold his head so he can’t kiss me or lick me… I just stare at him. God, he’s so…
He creases his eyebrows in confusion and pants in my face.
“You want more?” I ask.
He tries to nod his head, but my grip is too tight. “Yes,” he says breathless.
“You want it to hurt, don’t you?” I taunt him.
“Ye…” he starts to say, but his voice hitches with a high pitch…he clears his throat, takes a deep breath and tries again. Deeper and with more determination, he answers, “Yes. Hurt me.”
I rub my thumb across his lips gently…it’s a test to see if he’s serious. He opens his mouth; I rub it over his teeth just to see… I look right into his eyes… then just as if right on cue… he bites my thumb and I jerk it away, his teeth getting caught on the folds of skin on my knuckle.
He’s definitely serious.
I glare at him angrily, even though I’m not really mad and he looks up at me with a look of innocence and worry. He bites his bottom lip… wondering if he did the right thing.
I press our noses together and move to kiss him softly. Just one more test. As soon as my lips touch his, he grabs my bottom lip between his teeth and bites me again, pulling on it as he buries his head deeper into the pillow. That fucking hurt and I wince. He lets go then orders me… “Hurt me!”
So I pick his legs back up and replant them on my shoulders. “Don’t fucking move them,” I warn him.
He just nods his head and sucks his lips in as I grab his thighs, pull him to me and starting fucking him again, as hard as I can, as deep as I can and as fast as I can. He grabs his cock and starts jerking it then throws his head back screaming, “Yes, fuck yes,” over and over.
I’m pounding into him with such force that with every thrust, he scoots a few inches across the bed. When his head starts hitting the headboard, I wrap my arms around his legs and pull him back towards me. I lift him up and slam him back down… giving him another one of those deep, mind-blowing jolts.
We’re fucking like crazy and kissing like lunatics and he’s jerking his dick like a mad man. We’re so close and… much to his disapproval…
I break away and rest my forehead against his just long enough that we can catch our breaths.
I go to pull him away from the wall because he’s scooted right up against it again, but before I can get a hold of his thighs, he plants his feet on my shoulders. He lifts himself up then slams back down on me with an angry grunt and suddenly I’m the one shouting, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
I let him go and he’s riding me hard, working his ass on my cock and pulling on his dick and screaming obscenities. It’s fucking hot as hell and I’m about to cum… I’m surprised I haven’t already.
Maybe those forces aren’t fighting against me after all.
I put one hand on his hip to steady him, to guide him and use the other one to tweak and pinch on his nipple. He arches and impales himself over and over.
Oh, fuck.
I grab his feet, sit up on my knees one last time, and roll him backward to expose more of his ass. I’m back in control and I let him know it. I angle for that spot and forge ahead. As soon as I hit it and his body tightens and bucks against me, I slap his ass. He screams out so I lift him up and do it again, but this time with a harder smack on the same cheek. With the sting on his ass and the jolt inside him still fresh and painful, he starts shooting.
He yells my name and his ass grips my dick like a vice. He digs his fingers into my sides and squeezes his legs together on the sides of my neck, his legs cutting off the blood flow and I’m getting light-headed. I lean against him, his legs holding me up, and I thrust into him one more time. I fold him over and drive deep. The last of his spurting cum arches out of his slit and lands on his face just as I start cumming.
My body shakes violently and my vision goes black. I close my eyes, lean down to kiss him and we ride out the harsh waves with our tongues intertwined.
When it’s over, I collapse on top of him and his legs slip off my shoulders one last time. I feel his feet settle against the small of my back then one slides over my ass, down my thigh and rests against the back of my knee. His arms wrap around me. One hand drawing small circles around my shoulder blade while the other one combs through my sweat-drenched hair.
I wonder if he knows that he’s doing it.
Our hearts are pounding against each other's chest and our heavy breaths expel hot air into each other's ear. It leaves this moistness when we breathe back in. It’s all so…
In complete contrast to the intense sex that we just had and I find it… I don’t know… strangely comforting.
His feet, his hands and his breath all over my body… five points of contact and they’re like a warm blanket.
I just don't want to move from this place. Ever.
My body begins to slow and as if out of habit, my brain starts telling me it is time to get up and clean up, the sex is over… get up.
My body says no. I'm too fucking tired and this feels too fucking good. It tells me to just stay a little while longer.
Stay inside him.
Stay wrapped up by him.
But this just isn’t me. Is it?
My mind wanders to my earlier conversation with Mikey about him and the good doctor. How does this love thing happen? Did they just look at each other and know? Did it creep up on them like a surprise? Does it happen even if you fight it? Why am I thinking… ?
I’ve got my dick in Justin’s ass, I’m sweaty and I feel gross. I need a shower. I have to get up. I always get up.
Why can’t I get up? My brain and my body are fighting. My body just won’t move.
His hot breath against my ear stops and I think that he wants to get up. Fuck, I don’t want to get up.
But then he does some things all at the same time that are really kind of… I don’t know… different.
He kisses my neck then turns his head to the side. He moves it around a little bit like he’s settling it against the pillow. He takes a deep breath and sighs as he blows it out. He pushes my hair over my ear and tugs it just a little bit then his hand rests against my shoulder. His other one pats my back then moves around to the bed and worms its way up between my arm and my body then stops and just stays there.
I’m all confused at what he’s doing, but now he’s just lying there, not moving a muscle. I know I have to be crushing him under my weight but he doesn’t seem to care. He seems to like it, seems to want it this way… in fact, I think he’s sleeping.
Sleeping? I lift my head and look down at him. It amazes me that this innocent looking angelic face belongs to the same guy that, just minutes ago, was fucking like the devil himself.
Oh fuck it, I give in and my brain quits fighting. I lie my head down on the crook of his neck and wiggle it around to get comfortable.
As my breathing evens out and my heart rate slows, I drift off to sleep and I feel a faint smile forming on my lips as it hits me. I realize that despite my efforts to not care, to not give a shit, I do.
I don’t want to get up because I want to stay right here…inside him…wrapped up by him…and just be here…and hold him…and protect him...all wet and sticky…and for some reason, it's not yucky at all.
It feels really good.
