Short sex stories
- Not One For Weddings Ch. 07
Not One For Weddings Ch. 07
Over the next couple of weeks, Julian and I fell into an easy pattern of going to either my place or his after we'd gotten off of work. We'd come to a sort of silent agreement that neither of us cared to be apart if we didn't have to be, and as such we hadn't spent so much as a night apart.
I'd arrived at his place and was waiting outside his door, having knocked twice already. I was mildly annoyed by that point - my arrival was no surprise to him, there was no reason I should have been standing in the hallway waiting for him to let me in.
"Julian," I called through the door, letting my irritation show in my voice.
Finally, I heard the fumbling of the door chain. He opened the door, but his usual smile wasn't there to greet me. I took note of his cell phone pressed against his ear and the stressed look he wore. He stepped to the side, allowing me to enter. I stepped in, looking at him confusedly.
"Dammi un momento," he spoke into the phone before setting it down and turning to me. He gave me a hurried kiss that showed no real affection. "Sorry for making you wait, Chris; my sister's on the phone. Give me a minute?"
His brisk request was unexpected. "Yeah, go ahead."
He flashed me a smile that didn't reach his eyes and picked the phone back up. "C'è qualcos'altro? Devo andare avanti."
Holy shit, he's speaking Italian. I took a seat on the couch and watched him in awe as he paced from one side of the room to the other, looking agitated. I couldn't understand a word he was saying, but that didn't stop me from being insanely attracted by his smooth voice. My former irritation melted away, enthralled as I was listening to the foreign tongue Julian spoke with ease.
"Addio, Zita." He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "Non lo so, io penserò. Bene. Ciao."
He hung up and threw his phone onto the coffee table, then came to me. I patted the couch cushion, inviting him to sit beside me. He did so, but kept a careful distance between us.
"You speak Italian," I asked, too stunned by that revelation to fixate on his strange behavior.
"I do. My parents are from Italy, after all." He didn't seem to be paying attention, as if some other thing were weighing on his mind. Even after a few minutes of silence he didn't relax his shoulders, or turn to me with his customary smirk, or make an attempt at conversation.
"Is everything okay, Julian?" He didn't say anything, but looked at me with eyes that were begging for a listening ear. I got closer to him, putting my legs over his and taking his hand in mine. "What happened?"
"Nothing happened." I said nothing, prompting him to continue. "That was my sister, Zita. She's two years older than I am, and the only person I speak to from my family on a somewhat regular basis. She keeps asking me when I'm going to visit them, saying that she and our mom miss me."
I considered what he said. "Are you going to visit them?"
"I've told you already, I don't get along very well with my family."
"And that's all you've told me."
"Chris, you don't want to hear about them, believe me.
I bristled at that. "Yes I do. I want to hear everything about you, your family, your life."
"I'm more than happy to tell you everything about me and my life," he used a calculating tone. "But my family is very much uninvolved with that."
"That's not fair, Julian. I've told you all about my family - hell, you've met them already. Why won't you tell me about yours? It's not like I'm asking you to present me to them, or even tell them about me."
"I don't like talking about them, okay? That's it. I didn't have a very pleasant upbringing, Chris, like you did. I'm not close to them. I haven't spoken to any of them but for Zita and my mom since I moved out."
I remembered he'd told me he had six sisters - and yet, he only spoke to the one. A hundred questions flew around my mind, and we were both losing patience.
"Why? Julian, tell me. It's just me, I'm not going to judge you or whatever you're thinking will happen."
"Why do you need to know so badly?"
"Because I want you to trust me," I burst. I wasn't yelling, but I definitely starting to get mad at him. "I'm not going to tell anyone - who would I tell, in any case? I don't hold anything back from you, I don't make you beg me for information. Anything - anything - you want to know about me, or my past, or whatever else, I'd tell you with complete and total honesty. Why can't you do the same for me?"
"That's different, Chris." He was sounding more angry, too. "You don't have anything to hide. You have a family who wholly loves and accepts you. You haven't had to face many hardships, and you should be thankful for that. I need for you to respect that I don't feel comfortable talking about my family, to you or anyone else. It's not because I don't trust you - I trust you more than anyone."
"If you trust me so much then why won't you tell me a single thing about your family?"
"Why is this so important to you," he demanded, sounding more heated than he had before. "You know I love you! Why can't you accept that and move on?"
The air around us stilled as his words taunted us. Julian's eyes were wide with panic, obviously not having meant for the words to come out. We forgot the discussion we'd been having only seconds earlier and went totally mute. I swallowed the lump that had suddenly formed in my throat.
"Do you mean that," I whispered, barely loud enough to be heard.
He answered in a slightly stronger, though still quiet voice. "Of course I do."
He dragged me onto his lap and brought our faces close, only just not touching.
"I love you, Christopher Haze," he breathed. "I don't care that it's hardly been a month since we met, and I don't care if you don't feel the same way yet. I've never felt like this. About anyone."
"Oh, Julian," I whimpered before pressing my lips to his, overwhelmed by emotion. I threw my arms around his neck to pull him closer and kissed him softly and slowly. His hands were clutching at my back, as if he were afraid I'd get up and leave if he let go. I grew greedier in my kiss, insisting my lips against his with a longing moan that was so much more than mere lust. It was a moment later that I could feel a scalding tear roll from the corner of my eye to between my and Julian's brushing lips. He pulled away at the feel of the wetness.
He kissed away the tear and regarded me with infinite tenderness. I felt that my heart was about to explode from my chest and all I wanted to do was devour him whole then and there.
"God, Julian, I love you, too."
His smile broke out like the sun over the horizon. "Really?"
I wanted to laugh. "Isn't it obvious?"
"I don't know."
Oh, no, that will not do at all. "Julian, I love you." I kissed his temple gently. "I love you." I kissed his jaw. "I love you."
I kissed every part of his beautiful face, repeating the words between each kiss. I saved his lips for last, and he was more than ready to accept mine when I got to them. His arms around me crushed me to him while I knotted my fingers in his hair. I shifted so that I was kneeling with my knees on either side of him, pressing myself flush against him. We separated to catch our breaths, and I looked down at him with a ridiculous grin; his eyes stared up at me adoringly.
"I love you." He gave me his signature half-smile smirk that was familiarly teasing and promising. He yanked my face back to his and licked the edges of my lips, then the seam, but didn't prod his tongue between. I opened my mouth, wanting only to be further connected to him, but he wasn't taking it. I could feel him smile at my urging.
I pulled back, pouting. "Are you going to kiss me, or not?"
He placed a peck on the corner of my lips. "I just did."
"Not there," I rolled my eyes.
I raised my brow. "My elbow, of course."
Much to my irritation, he did just that with a satisfied smirk in my direction. "Like that?"
"Show me where." He looked so sweet and carefree I couldn't help but catch onto his mood and abandon my sulky front.
I pointed to my cheek. "Here." His lips were on me in an instant, and just as quickly were gone. He looked at me expectantly.
I pointed to my neck. "Here."
He brushed his lips over me. I pointed to my chin, my ear, my clavicle - each was met with a chaste kiss that dared nothing but left me wanting all the same. His hands were gripping my hips, which certainly wasn't helping my cause, but he seemed unperturbed. He kissed every part of me as directed, his eyes on mine the entire time.
I had to admit, I was having fun with his game. He made me feel wanted and desired. Even in the relatively innocent way he kissed me, he did it in a way that made my heart skip a beat and sent electricity through my veins. How could I not love this man?
I pointed to my lips. "Here."
"It sure took you long enough," he chuckled before, at last, setting his lips upon mine in an all-encompassing kiss that stole my breath away.
His hands stayed on my hips, but I felt his hold on me tighten to prove he was not so unaffected by me. I didn't have it in me to restrain myself, and I kissed him without reserve. I held his face in my hands, clamping our mouths together and not allowing him to move away again. I felt his hands move to the hem of my shirt, his fingers slipping beneath the thin fabric to flutter along my skin in a barely-there touch. All the same, I felt my breathing grow heavier, and his did, too. He slid his hands further up my back, lifting my up my shirt as he went.
I broke away from him only long enough to allow him to take off my shirt, as I did to him. He explored my newly-bared torso wildly as our kiss grew more passionate, small sounds escaping us both. Straddling him as I was, I could feel him hardening against me as we fed on each other; undoubtedly, he could feel me having the same sort of reaction. I started to take apart the buttons of his jeans with impatient hands.
To my frustration, he tore away from me.
"What now," I whined in protest.
He looked at me with hooded eyes. "Bedroom."
"Fuck the bedroom," I groaned. "I want you here, now."
"We're not going to have sex on a couch after I just told you I love you."
To hear him say the words sent a thrill through me and I immediately complied, sliding off his lap. He probably could have told me to jump off a building at that point and I would have done it without question. I practically dragged him to the bedroom.
"And in case you've forgotten," I added in a faux-indignant tone, "we've had sex on a couch before. A few times. If I have any say in it at all, we will again - soon, too."
"Don't complain," he laughed. "You'll be getting off all the same."
"That's not my point," I muttered.
We were in his bedroom by then, and Julian took no time in pushing me down onto the bed and pulling off my pants before climbing on top of me.
"What was your point, again?"
I opened my mouth to speak, but only a moan came out as his mouth enveloped a nipple and started to suck. His fingers toyed with the other one, twisting and pulling deliciously. I was lost in the sensations, then very abruptly, they stopped. I opened my eyes to a pair of twinkling hazel oculars.
"You were saying, Chris?"
It was obvious I wasn't capable on concentrating with a half-naked Julian on top of me; his mischievous expression showed he was well aware of this, and using it to his full advantage. I glared at him.
"Shut up and kiss me, asshole."
He did as I asked - okay, demanded - with an amused grin. He was all around me, wholly consuming and entirely focused on me. I could feel every inch of his body on mine, but marred by the jeans he still wore. I pushed them down as much as I could from where I lay beneath him - that is to say, not very much - and groaned into his mouth when he made no move to help me.
"You're overdressed," I informed him, trying in vain again to rid him of his clothing.
"No, I'm not. Sex with you should be a black-tie affair." He kissed and sucked along my neck.
"I certainly hope sex with me isn't any sort of affair at all."
He grinned at my bad pun and brought his lips back to one pebbled nipple, circling it, biting down, then soothing with his tongue. Everything he did sent jolts of desire straight to my groin. A few more seconds of this, and I was reduced to a moaning, panting pile of want and need.
"Please," I begged, breathless. "I need to feel you, I can't stand this."
Without removing his mouth from my body, he wriggled his way out of his jeans. I mumbled the word 'underwear', and those soon followed as well. He stripped me of mine, and we were naked, bare flesh against bare flesh all the way through. The reality of the moment overwhelmed me, and I froze as it sank in.
"What's wrong," Julian asked, concerned by my stiffening up without an obvious reason. He went up beside me, touching his fingers to my cheek in concern. I rolled to face him, putting my hand on his waist and throwing my leg over his.
"Do you realize what's happening?" My odd question in contrast to my ear-splitting smile confused him.
"What do you mean? Us?"
"Yes. Us." I giggled at myself which confused him further, but at least he was smiling.
"I'm going to need a bit more information than that, babe."
"Just think about it, Julian. This is amazing. Incredible. Unbelievable. We're two people, in love, naked and having fun. Purely and simply."
I didn't care that I was interrupting his - our - plans, I wanted to talk about it. I was beautifully tangled in emotion, debilitatingly intoxicated by love. I was not about to act blasé and nonchalant, I wanted to scream it out to anyone who would be still long enough to listen. In this case, Julian was closest.
He got a look in his eyes that was very near awe. "You're right."
"You're extraordinary, Jules. I love you - I'm going to say that again and again and again until you're absolutely sick of hearing it and wish you'd never told me in the first place. Just so you know." I giggled again, not at all unlike any number of the female students I teach, twenty years my junior.
"I will never get tired of hearing you say that. Because as you love me, I love you."
Our lips found each other again and sealed over one another, our tongues dancing together as our hands traced over each other's bodies. We touched each other equally, both giving and taking, mutually in need of constant, unrestrained contact. We kissed until we were on the verge of suffocating; I came away gasping.
"God, Julian, I need you so badly."
"I'm yours, Chris. Whatever you want, it's already yours."
I was a world entire away from want. "I need you. Inside me. Now."
He looked surprise. "Really?" He phrased it as a question, but it came out as more of a seductive purr. He rolled us so that I was on top of him and he was lying beneath, holding onto me by my ass. I let out a small gasp as our cocks rubbed against each other.
His fingers slipped between my crack and passively stroked along it. "Is this how you want it? Do you want to sink down onto me while I play with your cock? Do you want to ride me while I watch you writhe and moan over me until we both come?"
I almost came at his words alone. As it was, my breath caught and I felt myself get impossibly harder; he did, too. I could feel him straining against my thigh.
"No," I managed to croak out. "I want you on top. I want to scratch your back and kiss you. I want to feel nothing but you all around me, on top of me, and inside me."
His fingers brushed against my hole and slowly began to massage.
Despite that, he gave me a concerned look. "You're sure, Chris? I don't want to end up hurting you. You'd have more control on top."
I know, I don't care!
"I trust you," I said instead. "Believe me, I'm not a porcelain doll."
He gently pressed a finger into me, making me bite back a moan. It only took a moment for me to be accustomed to the intrusion, and he started to move it around in me. His other hand was kneading my cheek as he began to add a second finger. It didn't enter me as easily as the first, and though I'd never admit it to him, it even hurt a little. Without me saying anything, he somehow knew and looked at me sympathetically. I tried to quell his anxiety with a smile, but he wasn't buying it.
"We're going to need lube, Chris."
Though it might have been uncomfortable, I was still loathe to move away from him. When I didn't move off of him, he removed his fingers from me and gave me a patient look. I got off with a groan.
"Don't give me that look," he chided me as he got out of bed. "Lie down."
I did as he directed, and a he was between my legs a second later; his lascivious smirk made my stomach flip. He slid his body over up over mine until he reached my lips. He kissed me briefly but deeply, then lowered himself again, kissing down my chest as he went. As he did, he squeezed a small glob of lube onto two of his fingers and began to work them inside of me. This time, he was met with only the slightest amount of resistance before I was eagerly accepting his digits inside me. He massaged me from the inside-out, making small circles that loosened me up in preparation for what was to come. He worked his fingers slowly out then back in several times, coming so close to the bundle of nerves inside me but never actually touching - purposefully, I knew. When he'd established a rhythm, he added then a third finger. As he pumped his fingers into me, he continued to nip and suck at my chest and torso. He dipped his tongue into my navel and I had to moan, surprised at how I could feel it go straight to my dick.
"Oh, Julian, please."
He grinned up at me. "Isn't that funny, you're begging me now."
If he weren't lying down, he would've been able to see me roll my eyes. "You should know by now that I was born without shame. I'll beg you, baby. For as long as you want me to."
"Is that a challenge, Haze?"
"No - it's a fact."
He rose up to his knees, carefully extracting his fingers from inside me. He gazed at me with a dangerous glint in his eyes. Oh, shit. Before he had a chance to make whatever threat he was obviously about to, I hooked my legs around his waist and pulled him close. He fell on top of me, his arms landing on either side of me to catch himself. I claimed his snarky, sarcastic lips and savored how they moved with mine. I could feel his cock rub against my hole, but he didn't venture into me. We stared at each other as we pulled apart. I gave him a small kiss on his chin.
"Okay, I'm done, Jules. No more teasing. I want you and I need you, now."
He gave me a quick peck and went back between my legs wordlessly. He reached out his hand and grabbed a small pillow which he tucked beneath my hips, paying special attention as he lifted my ass off the bed. He leaned back and I watched in anticipation as he covered his cock with lube and dripped more down between my cheeks for good measure. He wrapped my legs around him, poised his tip at my entrance, and was still. He bent over me and kissed me adoringly, his hands gripping my thighs.
"You are exquisite, Chris," he murmured. "Absolutely mesmerizing."
I didn't have a response to that except to tighten my legs around him, pulling him as close to me as I could without actually taking him inside me. No, I wanted him to do that on his own accord. I was quivering beneath him with desire, but I wouldn't force anything.
I didn't have to wait long for my wishes to be fulfilled. A half-second later, and I felt him cautiously pushing into me, making me moan lowly. Even through his hesitancy, he couldn't help his deep, almost animalistic groan. Every inch he sank into me felt divine and sent fire through my veins. I felt impossibly full when he bottomed out in me, and we both let out heavy, garbled sighs; all I could think was that being connected with Julian in such a way felt so right. Sex with Julian was so much more than simply trying to get off - it was an expression of our love and affection for each other. I was his; he was mine.
He groaned into my shoulder as he started to pick up the pace of his thrusts. I moaned wantonly, being too loud but unable to feel embarrassed as I would've had I been with anyone else. I knew he appreciated my noisiness and wouldn't make me feel ridiculous or ashamed. As if he could read my mind, he flashed me a quick smile and nipped at my shoulder, biting and sucking; I knew he'd leave me with a mark. The knowledge turned me on even more.
"I'm so close," I whined, digging my nails into his back and the heels of my feet into his ass.
"Fuck," he grunted into my neck. "It's so hot when you say that it just about makes me come on command."
He pumped into me erratically, a tell-tale sign that he was on the edge of erupting. His desire fuelled mine, and with a cry of his name, I hurled into a mind-blowing orgasm that had me clenching around him in a vice-grip. That was his undoing, and with another couple wild bucks into me, he screamed out his ecstasy and deposited himself deep inside me. We clutched at each other as we came, trying and failing to keep some sort of hold on reality.
Julian collapsed atop me panting, his face buried in my neck. His weight on top of me was supremely comforting - he was tangible proof of what had transpired between us, and the only thing that could ground me to Earth.
It was a long while before either of us spoke, or even moved. Once we'd gotten our breathing under control, we'd simply laid there holding each other. I would have been content to fall asleep like that, but the practicalities of life would not allow.
My eyes were kissed open.
"I love you, Chris."
I gave him a goofy, sated, giddy grin. "I love you, too, Jules. You're fucking amazing, in every way." We shared a careless, clumsy kiss and smiled at each other like a couple of idiots.
"I think we need a shower, babe."
As we were both covered in at least three bodily fluids, I had to agree with him. We got up unsteadily, leaning against each other for support. We took a quick shower, washing each other with soft caresses; I lathered his hair as he pulled me in for a kiss, while his hands kneaded my ass in a way that wasn't as sexual as it was soothing.
Back in the bed we were a tangle of limbs, just the way we liked it. Julian's arms bound me to him with his lips at my ear, whispering to me in a voice like honey.
"I love you, Haze. I'm yours. You have me, heart and soul, completely and entirely."
He sent shivers down my spine with each word he spoke. I could only soak in what he was saying, unable to come up with a response that wouldn't be repetitive and cliché. The best I could do was to squeeze his hand. Fuck, I am so in love with this man. His crooning voice wafted me to sleep.
The sound of the shower running woke me up.
I opened my eyes, and was confronted with a dark bedroom, the only light coming from beneath the door to the bathroom. I rubbed my eyes of sleep, and looking to the clock beside my bed, saw that it was 2 A.M. Why the hell is Chris taking a shower at two in the morning?
I got out of bed and stumbled into the restroom, ignoring my nudity.
Somehow, he didn't notice my entrance. Through the steamy air, I saw Chris sitting on the floor of the shower, his head between his knees as the water pelted down on him. My confusion grew to concern - where was my sunny Chris with his shy smile and sparkling eyes? I stayed put for a minute or two, watching him; he didn't move, didn't make a sound, and continued oblivious to my presence.
His head snapped up as he searched frantically around him until he spotted me in front of the vanity. He stood up gawkily; I noted a look in his eyes I didn't think suited him - he looked haunted
. My concern level rose even higher.
"Go to bed, Julian, I'll be there in a minute." His voice sounded raspy, but not as if he'd been crying.
I went towards the shower and opened the door, not caring that the floor was getting wet. I reached behind him and turned off the water. Without either of us speaking, I stepped back down and grabbed a towel from the shelf beside the shower and started to pat him dry. He watched me with a wary eye, but didn't protest my actions. When I finished drying him, I took his hand in mine and led him back to the bedroom. We laid down, I behind him, holding him against me. We were silent for a long time, but I wasn't falling asleep and I knew he wasn't either. I kissed his neck.
"What's wrong, Chris?"
He shook his head. "Nothing. Don't worry about it. Go to sleep."
"No. Tell me." I knew it was unfair for me to demand information from him as I was after I'd done the same thing earlier, but I would have moved mountains to take away the unusual pitchiness from his voice and cease his shaking against me.
"Julian, I'm tired," he whispered. "Let's go to sleep."
"We've been lying here for at least an hour. You're trembling
. I know you're not going to get any sleep at all in this state, don't try to tell me you are. Talk to me, tell me what happened, what's wrong."
"Jules...it's late. I'm not going to keep you up, even if I can't sleep."
I recalled his words from earlier, when he was in my shoes trying to get me to speak. Funny how life works out
. I shrugged off the thought and focused on my suit.
"Didn't you say earlier that you'd always tell me whatever I wanted know about you? You said you'd never make me beg you for information? What about now?"
I felt him take a deep breath before he turned himself around to face me.
"I know," he sighed. "I did say that. And I meant it."
I stroked his cheek with two fingers. "Tell me, love. I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere."
"When I was eighteen," he began with another breath to steel himself, "I moved into an apartment for school because I didn't want to do the whole dorm thing. It was cheap enough that I didn't need a roommate either, and that was nice. I was excited to finally be on my own, and would only call my parents about once a week to check in. I wanted to be independent, like most 18-year-olds.
"I lived across the street from a pub that was run by this really cool old guy, Leo, who didn't mind serving alcohol to me, even if I was underage. The food was good and cheap, exactly what you need as a college student. I met this guy there when I first moved in, Lucas. He was friendly enough, about thirty years old, and he told me he was a lawyer. I saw him there often and we grew to be good friends, actually. We'd talk and eat. He was married, and he talked about his wife a lot. I remember thinking that he was pretty attractive, he was taller than me and had short brown hair.
"It was around two years later, during Spring break time, that he told me his wife would be leaving town for two weeks to go with her friends to Costa Rica. He wasn't going because of work. Of course, he knew I was attracted to men by then, but he hadn't really commented on it, he didn't seem to care one way or the other. Well, the night his wife left, he invited me to go out to a different bar. I figured he was missing his wife and needed company, so I agreed.
"It was more of a club than a bar, it turns out. There were people dancing to loud music, and everyone was taking shots. For some reason, I didn't get carded at the entrance. We went up to the bar and he ordered us a couple of shots, which I'd never had before - I'd only ever drank wine and beer before, and had never been properly drunk. I told him that and he teased me, telling me that it was just one shot and we were there to have fun. What college kid doesn't get drunk during Spring break? So I drank it, and a second, and as many as he shoved into my hands throughout the night.
"I went to the bathroom a while later, and when I returned he greeted me with another little glass. I was pretty far gone and drank it without question; it tasted different from the others I'd had before, but what did I know? He invited me to dance with him and I did. I didn't think anything of it because he was married. Ten minutes later I felt really
weird, like the room was spinning and I was so dizzy. I thought that's what being drunk was, so I went with it. Another ten minutes and I couldn't walk or focus on anything so I told Lucas I wanted to go home. He'd driven me there. He practically had to carry me out the door. I passed out as soon as I was in his car.
"When I woke up the next day, I wasn't at my place. And I was naked. I tried to rationalize that Lucas didn't know which apartment I lived, and since I'd passed out I couldn't tell him, so he brought me to his place for the night. I imagined that I might have thrown up or something and that's why I wasn't wearing clothes. But I couldn't explain why I felt like I'd been...touched. My body was tingling, but I wasn't exactly in pain, you know?
"Lucas walked in and handed me a glass of orange juice. It definitely tasted off. He fed me a story about how absolutely wasted I'd been and he figured it'd be easier to just take me to his place for the night. I didn't hear what he said in the end because I was knocked out after ten minutes.
"When I woke up, I had come all over me. I still don't know if it was mine or his. I finally realized what he'd been doing, that I'd been drugged. As much as I knew that, I felt like I was in a daze. I wanted to jump up and get the hell out of his house, with or without clothes, but I felt weak; I barely had enough energy to get out of bed and use the restroom. He heard me get up and came to me from wherever he was. He stood in the doorway and watched me pee. It was so degrading, standing there dirty and useless without privacy. I tried to yell at him, but my mouth felt like I had tar in it. I managed to ask him what happened and where my things were, but he just shrugged and said it didn't matter. He said he had the week off work and he intended to enjoy it with me, whether I agreed to it or not. When I said that I definitely didn't agree, he said that I was only making it harder on myself. He dragged me back to the bedroom and tied my hands above me. I couldn't fight him off. My mind was fuzzy, and my muscles wouldn't cooperate.
"He kept me drugged for the entire time I was there. I don't know if I'm thankful for that or if I hate him more for it. I can only remember things that happened in flashes. I couldn't begin to guess how many times he raped me. He did it in so many ways, Jules," his voice broke there, but he continued without pause. "He forced himself into me without caring if it hurt. He'd get me hard and fuck himself over me. He'd blow me, or shove his dick into my mouth. I can only be glad that he was small.
"And then I woke up back in my apartment a week later. I don't know how he got me there. I never saw him again. When I tried to find out if anyone at the pub knew him, no one did. I asked Leo, and even he didn't know anything about him. I didn't know where he lived, I didn't know where he worked, I didn't even know if his name was actually Lucas.
"I was a wreck for months. For the next week I hardly left my bathroom, let alone my apartment. I showered a hundred times or more, I couldn't bear even sitting still in a bath. He hadn't used a condom, and I swear I could feel his come leaking out of me whenever I stood still. I was covered in bruises and scratches, my wrists were sore, and my ass even more so - I couldn't sit down comfortably for weeks. I looked at myself in the mirror once and was disgusted at how he'd left me. I know now that I should've gone right away to the hospital for a rape kit, or at least and STD test, but I was so ashamed at how stupid I'd been, and I felt disgusting. I couldn't look anyone in the eyes because I felt like they knew what had happened, that they were judging me. I hated myself. I hated that my body betrayed me the way it did - the way I'd seen it is that if I'd gotten hard and had come, then I must have enjoyed it. It messed me up - I was a kid! I was nineteen! The man was over thirty, and he took advantage of a kid who was barely an adult.
"I have nightmares all the time, though they're a lot less common now. I have flashbacks in them. Or I feel helpless and alone, like I'm drugged up again. I feel that it's dark, and I can't breathe, and that I'm surrounded my nothing, if that makes sense, like the darkness is choking me and pinning me down so I can't move. I wake up gasping with my heart racing, and I feel it all over again. Sometimes a shower is the only thing that can make me feel clean again."
He went quiet. He stared at me with sad, searching eyes. I was silent, absorbing everything he'd said.
"Julian, please say something," he begged me in a nervous rush when I still hadn't spoken.
"Chris..." I had no idea what I could say, what sort of response would be appropriate. I went with the classic and kissed him, holding his face in my hands and giving him every ounce of love I had. I pulled away and began to speak without giving him a chance to say anything.
"I'm sorry, Chris. So
, so sorry. I wish there were anything I could do to make it better. I wish that I could turn back time and protect you from that. I wish I could have him in jail for the rest of his miserable life."
"You're not mad at me," he asked in a tiny voice
I was flabbergasted. "Mad? At you? Of course not. How could I be mad at you?"
"You don't...think differently of me?"
"I do," I answered honestly. He tried to turn his head away, but I held him still by his chin. "I think you are stronger and braver than anyone else I've ever met. To have been able to survive all of that, to be able to move on from it...That you told me, even though it was hard. I have so much admiration for you, Chris."
"Thank you," he sighed. He deflated into my chest; I just held him, placing kisses on the top of his head. "You're the only person I've ever told."
"I feel honored that you trust me so much. I love you, Christopher, and there's nothing you could tell me that would make me feel otherwise."
"I love you, too. So much." He kissed the middle of my chest and looked up at me with a small, tired smile. "Let's go to sleep now. I think that's enough story-telling for one night."
He turned around and snuggled into me like normal, bringing my arms to drape over him. I held him to me tightly. He gave my hand a kiss.
"Goodnight, sweet prince," he murmured.
"And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest," I finished the Hamlet
quote, smiling into his neck. He craned his head to grin at me, placing a peck on my shoulder before turning back. I gave him a final parting kiss before closing my eyes and drifting to sleep.
I was so tempted to wake Chris with kisses along his spine, but knew by then that he had the temperament of a bear when awakened too early - especially on a Saturday. I carefully got out of bed and went to use the restroom in the main room as opposed to the en suite so as to minimize the noise I made and not wake Sleeping Beauty. Certainly, I
thought he was a sleeping beauty. My very own Prince Charming, blonde hair and all.
I threw on a pair of pants and wandered into the kitchen, wondering what I should make for breakfast; I decided on waffles with chocolate chips. I quickly mixed up the batter and started them on the heat. In the meantime I made caramel bananas, the sweet smell wafting throughout the space.
I heard the familiar padding of bare feet on wood floor behind me, but didn't turn around; I was tending to the bananas on the stove. He came up behind me, his arms going around my waist, and nuzzling his face into my neck. He kissed my jaw as his arms constricted tighter around me.
" 'Morning, Jules," he mumbled.
"Good morning, Christopher. Did I wake you up? I tried to be quiet."
"You smell good," he inhaled deeply, not answering my question.
"You're still asleep, aren't you?" He made a small noise that was neither affirmative nor denying; I took it as a yes
. "Give me a second, babe, I have to flip the food."
He moved away languidly, leaning against the counter top. He noticed the bowl of batter with chocolate chips and dipped a finger into it which he brought to his mouth; his face twisted.
"That's not very sweet," he complained.
"It's not cookie dough," I laughed. "I'm making waffles."
His eyes perked up. "Do you have whipped cream?'
"I think there's a can in the fridge, go ahead and check." He quickly found it and proceeded to spray the aerated dessert directly into his mouth. "You're a Neanderthal," I muttered, not mentioning that I often did the same thing.
He grinned at me and gestured for me to open my mouth, hovering the nozzle of the can near my lips. He sprayed a small amount into my open mouth.
"Do you want more?" His eyes shined, but I didn't understand why.
"Sure," I agreed warily.
He delivered a tiny of the sugary foam onto my tongue; I stuck it out again.
I nodded. He gave me a normal amount this time, paused, then held the nozzle down and filled my mouth completely with too much whipped cream. I tried to complain, but all I could manage to get out were unintelligible sounds around the dessert that overflowed from my mouth. He let out a delighted giggle and started to have more fun with it, covering my lips and putting some on my cheeks, nose, and chin. I gave him a disapproving look.
, for one, think you look good with white stuff all over your face," he teased.
I rolled my eyes at him. Smiling, he licked off my makeshift moustache. He used his tongue to affectionately clean up the mess he'd made. Naturally, he left my lips for last, dipping his tongue between them to remove every trace of the whipped cream. I pulled away a moment later; he was still beaming.
"Since when are so chipper in the morning?" A playful Chris is not what I was accustomed to before noon. I could feel his eyes on me as I went to serve our food.
"I can act bitchy if you really want me to," he offered. I slid him his plate across the counter. "Though I'm not sure how convincing I can be when presented with food," he amended.
"I'm not so sure how convincing I want you to be. I think I like this happy-Chris."
"Come here," he opened his arms to invite me in.
"Let me wash my face first - you made me all sticky with your shenanigans."
"I like making you all sticky with my shenanigans."
I went to the sink and rinsed my face before returning to the mysteriously cheerful Chris, who had settled himself onto a stool at the breakfast bar. I stood in front of him between his legs and he captured my lips with his almost as soon as I was before him. He kissed me briefly but deeply.
Pulling away, his gaze was trained on me and full of unabashed adoration; I was certain it made my heartbeat falter. "I love you so much, Chris," I sighed.
"Say it again," he demanded, the corners of his lips turning up.
"I love you," I repeated, grinning at his insisting.
His smile got impossibly wider. "Again."
"I love you," I restated. To speak the words sent a thrill through me.
Through him, too, at hearing them. "I love you more, Jules."
"No you don't," I chuckled.
"Yes I do."
"No you don't. I love you more."
"You have never been more wrong, babe."
This was a game I was not about to lose. "I have never been more right
, actually. I
more, Chris. And I said it first." So, there!
He gave me a rueful look. "Not really; I said it to you in your sleep weeks ago."
I very nearly turned to mush. Well played, Haze.
"Eat your food," I muttered with a peck on his cheek, slightly petulant at having been bested. We didn't speak much as we ate, Chris being too busy shoveling food into his mouth to allow for conversation. He pushed his empty plate away minutes later.
"You make the best fucking food ever, Jules. Hands down. No contest."
"Waffles and caramel bananas aren't exactly gourmet cuisine, but I appreciate the compliment."
He turned in his seat and lifted his legs, placing them over mine. He took my hands and I shifted to face him.
"Thank you," he murmured, playing with my fingers.
"You're welcome," I responded reflexively, though not understanding the sudden earnestness in his voice.
"I mean it, Julian. For last night," he clarified significantly. "For everything."
I gave his fingers a squeeze. "There's no need for thanks."
"Of course there is. Babe... Nobody else would get up in the middle of the night for me. Nobody would have gotten me out of the shower and take care of me like you did. Or hold me in their arms for an hour or more. Anyone else, when I said to leave me alone, they would have. You're the only one who cares about me enough to ignore my bullshit and get me to talk. You listened to me, comforted me... And god, Julian, you love me. That's unbelievable to me, that you still can say you love me after that."
"It would take a hell of a lot more to get me to stop loving you than an advantageous asshole who drugged and raped you." I spoke firmly, leaving no doubt that I meant what I said. "I want you, and I need you, and I love you, no matter what. Only you, Christopher."
I watched him as his eyes grew wide and his breathing uneven. "I love the way you say my name."
," I whispered again with a soft grin.
He sighed. "You could probably read me the phone book and I'd still be a puddle by the end of it."
I ran my hands along his legs, raising them over my hips. As I stood up he took no time in tightening his legs around me and pulling me close. I claimed his lips in a second, cradling his face with a solid grasp and invading his mouth without pretext. I was feeling oddly possessive over him, wanting nothing more than to consume him whole in any way I could. His fingers tangled in my hair, tugging with small handfuls in a way he knew drove me insane. As if on command, I moaned into his mouth. My cock stirred in pants, but I wanted to focus on Chris.
I tore my lips away from his and started to kiss down his chin. Already, he was panting beneath me. My hands slowly traced over his body in a feather-light touch that had him arching his back, yearning for deeper contact. I was torn on wanting to dig my fingers into him and clutch him for all I was worth, or to hold him and caress him like the delicate, priceless treasure he was to me. My nails danced lightly over his back in a long line to his hips. He whimpered at the way I cautiously brushed over his skin, silently begging for me to quit my hesitance.
I was completely hopeless with the man.
I slipped my hands into the seat of his sweats and lowered them. The waistband carefully concealed his erection, but his gorgeous ass was gloriously exposed. I gripped his taut cheeks individually in an almost bruising hold that had him groaning deep and low in response. In contrast, I tenderly kissed his neck as his head lolled to the side.
"Do you even know how you make me feel," he breathed huskily.
I nipped along his collarbone. "Tell me."
He let out a hoarse laugh. "You could make me fall into a trap of thinking we're the only two people in the world."
"Not a trap at all, love. With you, the Earth could collapse beneath my feet and I wouldn't know it until it was pointed out to me," I assured him as my lips continued their downward trek over his chest.
"If your lips were moving over me like this, I certainly wouldn't be the one to notice the ground of all things," he moaned.
Reaching his peaked nipple, I reached out my tongue to flick at it. His gasp was all the encouragement I needed to take him into my mouth, circling my tongue around the tightened bud. As I sucked on him, he made his characteristically appreciative noises that never ceased to make me hard as a rock. When I clamped my teeth around him, he just about shot out of the stool. He cried out and tugged on my hair, his eyes screwing shut - an absolute lusty delight.
"What are you doing," he complained when I pulled away too soon for his liking, releasing his ass as I went.
I sank to my knees without a word, taking his pants with me and tossing them aside as if they offended me; considering that they hid Chris' naked body from me, that actually wasn't too far off. I slid my hands up his legs to his thighs, massaging as I went. While I kneaded the strong muscles with my hands, I licked and nibbled up the inside of his knee to his upper leg, so tantalizingly close to his protruding cock. I looked up at him to see his arms were sprawled over the counter behind him which he leaned on for support. He looked down at me with dark, desirous eyes, his breathing labored, legs wantonly thrown open in wait of me.
I climbed higher up his body, by-passing his dick, and going straight to his balls. The clean, musky scent of him filled my nostrils and made me crazy. I took one sensitive orb into my mouth and lavished it with all the deserved attention. I licked and sucked on one, palming the other meanwhile. He squirmed as I switched my hand and mouth with one another so I could pay equal tribute. When I was satisfied, and using his wriggling as guidance, I popped the sac out of my mouth and ran my nose along the underside of his cock.
Arriving at the end of his length, I let my hot breath wash over him. Even as I knelt before him, I watched pre-cum leak from his slit. I felt the urge to taste him, and seeing as I had no real reason to resist, I did exactly that. With my eyes on his I brought his tip into my mouth, savoring his unique salty-sweetness. I lowered myself over him until my nose was buried in his crotch, stroking him with my tongue. I swallowed around him, eliciting a moan from above me at the way my throat constricted. Moving backwards, I brought my hand in to fondle his balls as I lavished his cock. I rolled them between my fingers, pulling gently. As I ran my tongue around the dripping head he let out a series of unintelligible nonsense that had me smiling and smug. I began to bob over him with vigor, moaning in hope to send the vibrations all the way up his spine.
It was working.
"Julian..." He was interrupted by his own groaning when I flicked my tongue at his slit. "Oh, hell... I can't think," he hissed. He took a few breaths in before making another attempt at speaking something that resembled English. "Argh, Jules, stop. I'm going to come."
That's the point, sweetie
. I ignored his pleading and continued to suck on him like he were my favorite popsicle. Really, I far preferred the taste of Chris to any frozen cherry dessert.
"Please stop," he whimpered, tugging at my hair.
Reluctantly, I did as he asked - there was no way I could refuse him anything when he sounded so desperate. I looked up at him expectantly, but he was already sliding off the stool and falling to join me on the floor. He climbed into my lap, shedding me of my pants in the process, then wrapped his legs around me and brought me in for a hungry kiss. Our cocks slid against one another, slickened by combined pre-cum and saliva. Chris pressed himself flush against me, crushing our cocks between our bodies. I brought my knees up to cradle him with my legs and took his ass in my hands to hold him to me. Naturally, he was knotting his fingers in my hair.
The moment was completely clumsy, full of awkward angles and sloppy kisses. The wood floor was hard and unyielding beneath us - and we were on the floor
, of all places. We were a chorus of unrestrained groans and moans, not hiding one bit of the pleasure we were feeling from one another. Both of us were panting and nearly delirious with lust at the sudden closeness, and didn't take a second's time to consider a more comfortable location where we might continue our festivities.
It was perfect.
We rocked against each other, the most movement that could be allowed lest our cocoon of arms and legs fall apart. The slight friction made for a slow build-up that tore through us like a fire, with only the smallest spark necessary for it to blow up. As we got closer our kiss grew more desperate and messy, and between us our stomachs were covered in clear, sticky fluid. Knowing the frantic, hazy state we were in was nearly enough to send me over the edge - I loved that I could reduce Chris to a quivering mess, that I could have him totally unashamed and abandoned of all reason.
I took one hand from its' death-grip on his ass and wriggled it between us. I grabbed hold of our cocks and rapidly stroked us together, sliding my hand over us in double-time. He writhed against me as best as he could, his cries getting even louder and more drawn-out. I was doing my best to hold back, wanting for Chris to come first and fill the space with the sound of his shouting as he erupted between us. I grunted into his mouth with increasing urgency as I fought to keep some sort of control over myself.
It was about to be a losing battle.
"Come for me, baby," I begged him in a last-ditch effort.
Just as I felt the familiar tightening in my stomach, Chris was shuddering against me and we exploded simultaneously all over ourselves and each other. His feet dug into my back with more force than I would have anticipated, as I matched him with my hold on his ass cheek. We clenched around each other as we came - hard
- for what felt like entire hours. When we had at last emptied ourselves, our limbs turned to gelatin; we sagged against each other, foreheads touching, exhausted and barely managing not to fall backwards onto the cold floor.
I brushed my lips over Chris' slightly parted ones at some point after we'd returned to the planet. He half-assedly returned the chaste kiss without bothering to open his eyes. I stroked gently along his spine with my fingers.
"I love you," I whispered. A ghost of a smile appeared on his lips.
"Love you too, Jules."
"We should get off the floor."
He got up with a groan, pulling me up with him; I met him with a kiss. He regarded me with a sated, lazy expression that I'd come to recognize as characteristic of him after we'd enjoyed each other in such a carnal fashion. Coupled with his mussed hair that stood up on all ends and his as of yet unshaven face, I doubted there was a sexier man on the planet.
"You are seriously beautiful," I told him once we'd settled ourselves on the couch.
He gave me his shy smile that I so adored. "We need to get your eyes checked."
I rolled my eyes at him. "You're ridiculous, Christopher." He gave me a giggle and kissed my cheek.
"What's your last name," he changed the subject.
"My name is Julian Lorenzo Asti."
"Julian Lorenzo Asti," he repeated musingly, as if to test out how the words sounded together. "I like it," he decided.
"I'm glad to hear it," I chuckled.
"No, really. It sounds...distunguished. A hell of a lot cooler than Christopher Ansel Haze."
I disagreed. I loved Chris' name; it was reliable and comforting, like him. I hugged him closer to me and brought my lips to his neck.
"You're a silly man."
"And you love me for it."
"That I do," I confirmed, my tone amused.
"Good. You'd better not stop any time soon."
Aug 18, 2018