Posted 10th April 2015
“Try again, Austin.” Samara pushes my iPhone back into my hand, attempting to encourage me to call my parents again.
This is encouragement I don’t really think I want, not now, after so many failed attempts.
I am barely back from the bathroom before Samara tells me I should call my parents. She practically dials the number for me. More than anything, I want to argue with her and tell her that having my calls ignored and hung up on by the two people who should love me is slowly killing me.
Several times I try to reach my parents, only to have them hang up on me upon connection. Of course, my mother is on perfect form, never hanging up on me until she has finished screaming her obscenities, telling me to go back to Samara and be normal, or be permanently cut off from them. Each time, I try again, hitting the redial button and listening to the dial tone that is becoming my most hated noise. This is all too much to cope with, to be slowly killed off each time I try and reason with the people who gave me life. They gave me everything, only to throw me in the dirt for following my heart.
Do I mean so little to them?
Have I really done something that is so disgusting, when all I want to do is follow my heart?
My mother, the lady who sang me to sleep with her lullabies, read me a bedtime story, and kissed my hurt knee to take the pain away, now won’t even take my calls. Can’t they see how much I love them, even after all the abuse they’ve shouted at me? Can’t they see how much I still want them to call me ‘son’?
It is all I want to be called right now.
My mind drifts back to relive the first call, playing over in my head the vile conversation that came through my new phone.
It was a tone I never thought my beloved mother would take with me, her only child.
I guess we are all wrong sometimes.
With each number I keyed into the phone, I was filled with more and more dread. It felt like I was entering in the numbers to my execution, and once I got to the last…BOOM! Hello, annihilation.
As the dial tone played in my ear, I prayed they wouldn’t answer, that they were not home.
Please…don’t pick up the phone!!!
I repeated the words in my mind like an ancient ritual, my own silent incantation, willing my parents not to be there. All my best efforts went unanswered as my mother’s monotone greeting graced my ear drum.
“Mann residence. Lady of the house speaking.” Really, she actually answered the phone like that. She stole the greeting from that TV show she loves: Keeping Up Appearances.
My mother, forever wearing a mask of someone far more important than she actually was, someone she aspired to be; she was never happy in her own skin.
Now it was time to face the sinister music.
“M…Mother…it’s me…Austin,” I stammered my words into the phone.
That silence we all fear to hear followed my words and I found myself pulling the phone from my ear to check that we were still connected. I watched as Samara and Tom looked at me a little confused from their separate places in his flat, both there to support me if I needed them.
I knew I would need them.
I just selfishly wished it was them making the call and not me.
Her cold voice interrupted me as she made herself heard.
“Is. It. True?” Her words were slow, direct, and to the point. There was no chit-chat, no small talk to the son she had not heard from in two weeks, and clearly no love in her voice. “Well?”
I swallowed the lump that appeared in my throat as beads of sweat made their way from my brow.
Suddenly, Tom’s flat felt like I was standing in a sauna!
“Mother I…” I tried to skate over her question, but to no avail. She had no desire to discuss anything; not now.
I lowered myself onto Tom’s sofa, trying not to look in his and Samara’s faces as my mother’s voice started its rampage through my ears. I wanted to forget they were both in the room, that they weren’t witnesses to the conversation that was about to play out. I was just so glad they couldn’t hear her words, but I already knew my face was giving me away, my features showing just how much I was hurting.
“I asked you a question, boy, and I suggest you answer it!!!” She demanded, beckoning me to answer her and tell her the truth she’d had to hear from other lips. She was talking to me like the small, misbehaving child I was, trying to coax out of me an admission to a crime I denied.
If only all this was as simple as getting caught stealing a cookie without permission. I doubted making my puppy-dog eyes would help me now.
So there it was, the moment I, like so many before me, would allow the words to leave my throat. I inhaled deeply, playing it over in my head, trying to find the best approach even though I knew there wasn’t one. I could feel the darkness trying to devour me and pull me back from my own happiness, to become their hetrosexual dream son. I shook myself, pushing the black cloud away from me as I began.
Breathe, Austin. You can do this!
“I am sorry…Mother, but it’s…true. I am…gay.” I didn’t have to wait long for her to find her bitter voice.
“Well, I suggest you stop being gay then, little boy!” She began. “Do you not care how this will look to people? Do you have no shame?” I could sense the venom that was fuelling her wicked attack of questions.
I closed my eyes before I continued, trying to not allow her to break me down.
Stay strong and breathe!
I inhaled deeply. “I…don’t care what people think, Mother. I can’t help what I am.”
It was true. I didn’t care what others thought, only my family; one I was terrified I was about to lose. Already I could see a door appearing between us, trying to close on me as I became left outside alone, no longer worthy of the name ‘Mann’.
“Austin Mann!” She used my full name like when I was a child and she was telling me off. “You. Will. Stop. This. Wickedness. Or. Consider. Yourself. Cut. Off!”
Her words stabbed into me like I was a victim in my very own slasher movie.
Is that what I really was? Wicked?
I’d never thought that following my heart was wicked!
That word never entered into my brain when I thought about gay people. When I saw two men holding hands and smiling at one another, I could have thought of a dictionary full of words, but wicked? Never wicked.
No one mourned the wicked, and it now seemed that no one would support the wicked. I was to be cut off.
My mother’s tricks were beginning to play out, to get me to do as she said; my own happiness didn’t even enter into the equation. I never saw before how much control my mother had over me.
I could feel myself breaking, my emotions collapsing around me as I prepared myself to no longer be their son.
Did they really want me to live such an unhappy life? To play the part of the perfect husband with a girl who deserved so much more than my own award winning performance?
“Mummy, please! Try to…understand…” I begged, mentally falling to my knees before the woman I loved, to kiss her feet and beg her to understand and show mercy.
Please love me, mummy! Please!
“Oh, I understand very well! And what I understand is that you want to bring shame upon my good name and throw everything I have ever given you in my face!” Samara came up to me, putting her arm around my shoulder and kissing my cheek.
Guess my face was really giving me away.
Tom followed her lead, taking his place at my other side, stroking my cheek and wiping away the tears that began to fall at my mother’s attack.
I never even felt them leave my eyes.
“I understand that you are one sick individual and I did not raise you to be like this. I understand that you are happy to be like this, regardless that it is killing the people who raised you! I also understand that you’re big enough to make your own choices, ones you can start paying for yourself!!!”
She hung up! No goodbye. No fond farewell as she turned her back on her only child.
Pay for everything myself?
If only she knew how little money meant to me, and how much I wanted her to just love me like a mother should love a child.
I hate my new phone. This immense gift from Tom is slowly becoming something I despise. Even after the first call and after so many unanswered, I still find myself trying again like Samara pushes. I hate the unanswered ring tone, the noise that seems to go on for hours, only to eventually go dead. Even on those rare occasions when my calls are answered, only hateful words flow into my ear from the voice of someone impersonating my mother. It just can’t really be her. I won’t allow myself to believe that!
Maybe my phone is possessed. Nothing else can explain the bitterness coming from the ear piece. This perfect piece of technology, moulded into an exquisite communication device, is doing nothing but breaking me down inside. With each attempt to call again, I can feel the cells in my body breaking down, creating a virus that is my rejection.
Yes, I never really expected them to accept me, but I allowed a little delusion to cloud my judgement. I really thought they would see past that what is making me happy.
My phone must be distorting my mother’s voice somehow!
Give it up, Austin. Accept what it is. They hate you!
Yes, I guess it is true. I just have to accept it.
I need to accept that this is how my mother has decided to take the news, and that she is now so willingly ignoring my attempts to call. So, I won’t be calling back again. I know now what my mother has chosen, what she has decided for me. Although I know it is killing me inside, shocking me to my core, I cannot keep begging for their approval, their acceptance. They say time is a great healer so time is what I will have to give them.
I just wish I knew how long to wait! How long will it take for my parents hate to break down?
After I explain my intentions to my small audience, Samara finally stops pushing me. She agrees with my idea to give them time, space, anything. She knows that my parents are not like hers, sadly. Sometimes I really wish I was born a Hale and not a Mann!
Samara kneels before me, smiling into my eyes. “See now why I couldn’t let you go through this alone?”
Oh, how I see!
I look from Samara to Tom, who is now in his kitchen, feeling like I am standing before two priceless gems, the backbone of myself. With their support, I can do this. I can live the life I know in my heart is correct.
I look down into Samara’s face, happy that at least one person from my old life accepts me. I was stupid to think she never would. “Thank you, Samara.”
My eyes flicker to Tom, now standing near his balcony door, and I smile at him, causing him to blush and look away with his own smile appearing.
At least he is smiling.
I stand at my balcony door, watching Austin reflect after his failed attempts to call his so-called mother back. I want to go back over and comfort him, but my Samara-aphobia keeps me at bay, only allowing me to spend small amounts of time near her.
What the fuck is it about this little chihuahua that terrifies me so much? I am twice her fucking size, and can probably snap her in two, but with just one look she has me retreating into a corner.
Austin smiles at me, sending goose pimples over every inch of my body and chasing away my small phobia. My cock hungers for him again. No, not my cock, my everything. It has been almost two days since I had my tongue on his body, listening to his moans of delight as I make that new thing called ‘love’ with him. Yet, it isn’t the sex I miss. It’s the passion, the intensity that is the two of us.
I know I need to give more of myself to him, to open up completely and communicate with him on a level that is more than just sex, and I will; I plan to. It is just so fucking hard! Austin knows more about me than anyone else. He relived my secret as I re-told my story, yet still I know we don’t…talk. I know I shouldn’t allow it, but I always find my cock taking over instead of actually talking.
How can his parents turn their backs on someone like him? Someone whose beauty is so blinding to one like me? I keep making small glances his way, then pull my face away, blushing when our eyes connect. I play with my short hair and imagine my fingers gliding through his blond locks, gently moving his head towards me so we can share love’s sweet kiss as our lips say their loving hello.
When the fuck did I become that guy? The one who gets giddy at just a small glance from a guy, and says things like love’s sweet kiss?
I smile to myself. Clearly, Austin just has that effect over me. We may not do much talking, but maybe our desire for each other is just shouting louder.
Samara turns her head to look at me and I gasp in shock as my blood goes cold, my whole body tensing. I turn away from her as I look over my windows, pretending to wipe them clean of non-existent dust.
Please, don’t talk to me. Please, don’t talk to me!
“Tom, darling!” I sigh. Fuck with the darling crap, bitch!
I turn towards the terrifying pixie, sitting there like she is an angelic bitch with a halo hovering over her head.
Face your fear, Tom. You’re like twice her fucking size; remember that!!!
“We could both use a nice cup of tea. How about it?” She sings at me, like she is in some fucking stupid musical.
Tea? Do I look like someone who drinks fucking tea? The only drinks I have go well with a mixer or on the rocks, not some stupid heated leaves! I wouldn’t even know how to fucking make tea, even if I had the tools at my disposal!
I gulp before clearing my throat.
“I…don’t have tea…sorry,” I say.
She laughs out her next words. “How can you not have any tea? So silly. Coffee then?”
I shake my head as my eyes fall to the floor, like I am standing before a headmaster at school.
Fuck, why does this girl terrify me?
I look up at her and her face doesn’t falter. It doesn’t change at all; she simply smiles that butter wouldn’t melt smile of hers. “Starbucks isn’t far. How about you go grab the coffees while myself and Austin here order us all a Chinese? That is, of course, unless you have any food in here? I assume your kitchen is just for show.” She tilts her head at me, still smiling that fucking smile.
It’s wrong to hit women. It’s wrong to hit women!
I find myself staring at her, not knowing what to say other than the words dancing in my head, simply gaping at her bewitching smile. Suddenly, she clicks her fingers at me, startling me enough that I shake myself back to the moment.
“Tom darling, chop chop. Really Austin, is he always this non responsive?”
I smirk in her direction before grabbing my wallet and making my sweet escape.
He is teasing me, sitting there sucking up his noodles into those luscious lips that once housed my cock. His tongue pokes out at intervals to lick the sauce from those perfect lips, and I want to pounce on him and kiss them clean as I run my hands all over his clothed body, gently beginning to unwrap my gift.
I can’t do any of this. I can’t fucking taste my man because of that pixie bitch still sitting in my flat, sipping her coffee while eating her noodles like a perfect work of art. Nobody can eat noodles without making a little mess. It’s impossible! She is clearly the devil’s child! If only I had a crucifix, I could banish her back to hell!
I eye her suspiciously, but she just smiles that ever sweet smile of hers, still sucking up her noodles and sipping that darn coffee! Are all girls like this? Kelly really isn’t, and I don’t really talk to Jane…maybe I need to expand my group of female friends.
Oh no! Fuck that shit!
We eat in one of those awkward silences, Samara revealing more of her demonic table manners, while Austin sits there, his eyes locked on me as he sucks up more noodles before gliding his tongue seductively again. My cock pushes against my jeans angrily, willing for me to throw Samara out the window and flip Austin over and punish his tight arse for teasing me. I don’t move though, I simply take a fork full of rice and shove it into my mouth and chew it bitterly, trying to subdue my want for Austin.
Samara’s voice breaks the silence, causing me to jump and randomly scream ‘Devil’ in my head.
“Well this is awfully fun, but how about we go to this club you work at? I really could do with a drink and a dance,” she says, nodding at Austin, whose fork has stopped inches from his open jaw.
“Samara…you know it’s a strip joint…don’t you?” Austin says a little nervously.
She laughs, getting to her feet.
“Even better! Let me get my coat.”
Is she for real?
Like I would fucking take her to my work!
“Okay, well, if you’re sure,” Austin tells her, without even checking with me! I don’t want people seeing me with her! “It is okay, isn’t it Tom?”
His pink, perfect lips form a smile that I find myself unable to say no to.
“To Halo we go.” I try to sound confident, but the thought of taking my boyfriend and his ex to the place I dance for money is beyond fucked up!
This isn’t happening!
Just fucking no!
This is all just so fucking wrong!
Kelly is chatting to Samara like they are best fucking friends, laughing and joking over a bottle of wine; wine I paid for!
“Kelly, I am so jealous. This bar is amazing; there’s so many hot men!” Samara chimes as we sit at one of the tables that Kelly made the current occupants vacate.
“It is a hard life, darling, but hey, someone has to do it,” Kelly laughs, looking at me. “Fuck, Tom. What’s up with your face? Still feeling like crap?”
Oh shit, yeah! I am suppose to be ill!
She winks at me, and I know she understands why I really needed the time off. It isn’t every day you break bread with your lovers ex!
I don’t get chance to reply before Samara speaks.
“Are all the men here…well…gay?” She asks.
Austin takes my hand under the table and I can feel myself relax just a little.
“Every fucking one of them! Such a fucking waste if you ask me. I mean, look at Embry, the one in the nappy.” She points to the russet-skinned dancer on the central stage, dancing in a baby outfit for all the old men. “Wouldn’t you just love to tap that?”
Austin chokes on his drink as Samara and Kelly chorus each others laughs. I ignore them as I keep my eyes on the dancer, the guy I have worked with for a few months now. He was a drunken fuck that I threw out like so many before, but now he is looking more delectable. My cock twitches as I mentally fuck the guy I rejected so many times, until I feel a tight squeeze on my hand.
Oh shit! Austin!
I turn to look into the eyes of the man I know I love, pushing the sex crazed Tom to the back of my mind. I may want to fuck other men, but I know in my heart that I want Austin.
I promise not to hurt you.
The words I told him play in my head. It’s the motto I will do anything I can to live by.
“Dan, more drinks over here,” Kelly calls to the man who is besotted with me at the bar.
I shift nervously in my seat as he skulks over to us, carrying our drinks. His eyes look from me, to Austin, and back to me again. I can see the hurt in his eyes as Austin brings our linked hands to the table innocently, unaware of the past I share with the young guy, and he forcefully places the drinks on the table before running from us.
I am sorry, Daniel!
“What is up with him?” Austin asks, pulling my attention back to him and not the staff only door Daniel bolted through in tears.
What do I say?
Do I tell Austin how I used Daniel as a posh wank, not caring how he felt?
“He is just stressed, Austin, sweetie. He was in awe of your dancing skills and knows he will never compare,” Kelly says, causing Austin to blush from the memory.
“Dancing?” Samara asks, bewildered, looking at the faces around the table.
“What? You don’t know? Oh, this will be fun,” Kelly giggles, before re-living the night Austin had everyone eating out of his hands.
Something he still has me doing.
We spend the whole night in Halo’s, Kelly and Samara chatting while I sit undressing Austin with my eyes, drinking in his sexual innocence.
“Well, it’s late and I am beat. I Think I will go back to your halls, Austin,” she says, turning towards him as he is just stroking his hand up my thigh.
Great, the she-bitch is finally leaving! That must mean it’s time to go home; the lounge is no longer the spectacle of fun for her.
“Oh…okay. Let me get my coat and I will come with you.” Austin wants go back with her? I didn’t expect that!
“I need to go sort getting the over-sexed out of here. Nice to meet you, Samara. Come by anytime,” Kelly says, kissing Samara on the cheek before bidding us farewell and heading for the bar.
Austin always stays at mine on Saturdays, and given that Kelly actually gave me the weekend off, I thought he might want to…stay over. Fuck. Samara should have gone home by now. She should have checked he was okay then fucked off back to London like a good little girl!
When they stand, I follow suit, sulking bitterly as Austin looks from me to Samara. I know he wants to stay, but he is too fucking nice and will end up escorting her home…idiot!
I really don’t want him to go.
Just let him go and dial Sam. You know you miss pounding his arse. Or even Embry!
Maybe my head is right, that listening to my heart is stupid. It has done nothing but make me another pathetic slave to love, and now Austin is going to always put Samara ahead of me!
“Austin, I assumed you would be staying at Tom’s. I really don’t think we need to start sharing a bed again,” she tells him.
She wants him to stay, too?
I look to Samara, trying to see some malice, some hidden plan that she must be concocting to take him away, yet all I see is her offering me a small nod and a sweet smile.
I must be mistaken!
Is that a genuine smile?
“Samara, are you sure you’re okay to get back to my room alone?” He questions.
SHUT UP, AUSTIN!!!
I want to scream the words at him to shake the stupidity from him. I want him to stay with me and sleep in my arms. I want to make sure he is really okay, that his parents reaction didn’t hurt him too much. I want to rid him of the shame they want to send him; he deserves only to be loved.
Samara laughs. “Yes, Austin. As hard as it might be for me, I am sure I can walk across town alone and sleep in a single bed all by myself like a big girl!” Sarcasm is evident in her voice, and I find myself actually laughing.
She walks towards Austin and hugs and kisses him gently, before walking towards me.
I swallow the urge to run from her, and try to get control over my new found fear of this small girl. I allow her to reach up and lock her arms around my neck, pulling me down into a tight hug, before whispering softly into my ear.
“I am trusting you with him, so please look after my friend. He is yours now.” She kisses my cheek before releasing her grip and smiling at me, winking.
We leave the club together before saying our farewells and heading off in our own directions. I somehow know now that she only wants me to look after the man she loved for so long, who so easily fell into my arms. She has allowed me to take the key to his heart.
My heart pounds in my chest, telling my head to form a whisper I send out into the air that I know only I can hear.
“I promised I wouldn’t hurt him.”
As Austin closes the door to my flat behind him with a click, I know we are alone after so long. After he had to suffer through that awful call, before being whisked back to a club of so many people, he needs a chance to reflect; to take it all in.
I need to hold him so he knows I am here and that I am trying to help him.
He turns to look at me and smiles, leaning against the door he closed behind him. I blush slightly and look away, grinning, before giving him all my attention again as I try to send him my love without the need for words.
Before I know what is happening, he runs and jumps into my arms, locking his legs around my waist, causing me to stumble slightly, his lips finally meeting with mine.
I try to stop him, but he keeps moving his lips to mine wherever I move them away. My cock is hardening as Austin attacks me with his kisses, both of them trying to lead me away from what I really want to do. This is the last thing I want, not after the day he has had. Yes, my cock may be wanting to rule me, but I don’t want him when his emotions are all over the place.
“Aust…baby….you don’t need…to do…this…calm down!” I giggle between words, as he tries to stifle my talking with his own lips.
He moves his mouth to my ear, biting hard, driving my cock crazy, but I manage to finally pull him off me. He finds his feet on the floor again and stares at me breathlessly through lust filled eyes.
“I want you, Tom, now…here! Don’t make me regret outing myself!” He digs his nails gently into my chest, tweaking my nipples. “Fuck me, Tom! Show me that I am doing the right thing.”
I look into the face of the man who is begging me to fuck him, the man I am trying to give everything to.
Who am I to not answer to the sexual pleads from my man?
I grab his crotch, pulling him into me. “How does my baby want it?” I ask, helping him out of his clothes.
“Hard. Make love to me hard!”
I guess conversation can wait. This is a match made in horny fucking heaven!
I need to remember to thank Samara in the morning, but not tonight. Tonight is all about me and Tom. I don’t want to think about the call, about the way I have been thrown to the streets like a dirty dog. I need to feel love. His love, his way. I need him to give it all to me, to help me confirm I did the right thing, that this is really what I want and what I need.
I need to make love, the way only Tom can do it.
The time has come to use a little item I have wanted to use since first coming to his flat. It’s a cold piece of metal used by police, one that people now take into their own sexual play. Cold metal that is now keeping a panting Tom’s hands well at bay behind his back, as he kneels naked before me, his erection fully on show ready to play in our little game.
I have been controlled long enough, by my parents, by my fear of giving in, but after my time at Halo on the stage, I am ready to carry on with my sexual adventure. The call with my mother was just what I needed to finally break further free from the shackles of my denial. Everyone knows now, and I am finally accepting myself the way Samara has so easily accepted me.
I want someone to do as I tell them for once, someone who once had controlling power over me, now at my knees willing to do as I request…no…as I demand! I have had my little play these past few weeks, trying a little thing here, a little cream there, now I want it all and I am ready to fully direct!
I watch the hunger in Tom’s eyes. I can tell without touching him that his heart is racing below me. I toy with the small butplug in my hands, already covered in lube ready to be parked into him. I smile at him as I play with my firming erection, letting his eyes take in all of my semi-naked body.
“Do you want to fuck me, Tom Parks?” I ask as I tower over him, hitting the side of his face with my cock that hangs outside my boxers.
“All night long, baby!” He crawls towards me on his knees, struggling with his bound hands.
I push my foot into his face to stop him. “Ah, ah, ah! Not until I say!” He stops still, not arguing, not questioning what I am demanding.
I am not pining over my parents. Fuck them. Yes, it hurts, but I want him to take my pain away with his need for me.
“Suck my toes.” He does as I command, putting all my toes into his mouth as he begins sucking them. I am reminded of the first time he did this. The once new experience now drives me wild as I feel his teeth and tongue working their way between my toes. I wobble over wim as I throw my head back, grabbing onto my hair at the reaction to his oral movements. I fall to the floor, my foot never leaving his mouth, until my back is flat against his laminate flooring.
I pull my foot from his lips as I make my way up to him, kissing his lips as I reach round and push the small butplug into him. His small gasp washes over my face. I fall back to the floor so that I lay on my back and await his sweet arrival, pushing my foot back to his lips.
His lips begin their walk from my foot, up my calf. His tongue enters into the journey up my body as he licks his way up my leg. He stops at the top of my thigh, his mouth working over my fabric covered erection, as he sucks and bites every part of my hidden cock.
I raise my stomach to the ceiling, fighting back the urge to remove the last of my clothing and release my load down his warm throat. I don’t want to finish early; I want more of his exploration of my body. He tries to remove my pants with his teeth, to get to my thick member within and the frustration in his breath makes me laugh as I grab his ears, pulling him further up my body.
He falls onto my chest as he bites my nipple. I can feel his wet cock between my legs, his pre cum dripping down my thigh. I want him in me now, to fuck my issues away, and show me how much he loves me.
How much I am still loved by someone!
I push him back up onto his knees before I turn onto my chest, grabbing his hair and pulling him to the nape of my neck. “Fuck me, baby. I need you now!” I plead.
He bites my neck, giving me that pleasure we now enjoy in our love making, helping me relive our first time together.
“I love you, baby. I want to fuck you, too. Uncuff me.” As if I would!
I pull myself from beneath him and get up to make my way towards his bed, towards the key to his release, but I ignore it and make for the condoms and lube instead. I turn back to my loving prisoner, smiling as I slowly remove my boxers and let my cock dance in its freedom as I walk towards him with my erection front and centre.
“I seem to have lost the key!” I lie.
He laughs from his place on the floor, looking past me towards his bed. “I can see them on the bedside table, baby boy.”
I shake my head, still making my slow journey towards him. “No you can’t.”
He grins, looking a little confused. “How can I make love to you if you have me chained?”
I smirk, stroking my cock. “You going to let that stop the great Tom Parks fucking his man?”
He grins at me, licking his lips as he shakes his head and I bend down near him, placing the condom effortlessly around that what will give me pleasure. Our eyes don’t part as I watch him pant before me. I click the lube bottle open and apply copious amounts on his cock before fingering myself to add lube to my hungry hole. As I enter within myself, I hunger to have him there, to have his erection burn within me as he assaults my ring. I kiss him before turning away from him, lowering my body to the floor with my arse still in the air, waiting for him, calling for him to make his entrance. I look back over my shoulder, my sultry eyes willing my man to advance forward.
“Austin…I don’t think this will…oh fuck it. This will be interesting,” He says, moving towards my arse.
I reach back, taking his cock in my hand and guide him forward towards my hole, and I groan as the first of his inches break into me. As he gets closer to filling me with his cock, he lays over me, fucking me hands free as I lower us to the cold floor. I lean behind, grabbing onto his head as he assaults his cock into me, biting my ear lobe. I am balancing on my chest, as I pull my free hand towards my cock, working my erection towards delight as Tom picks up his pace. He pulls his upper body off me, thrusting harder into my burning arse, and I match his pace with my wrist.
I push my arse further off the floor, allowing me to wank harder as he fucks into me.
Within no time, our screams fill the room as we collapse into the floor, my cum making a pool of white liquid diamonds on the clean surface. Tom carries on making small pulses within me, still in ecstasy from our climax.
“Love you.” His words fill my ears as his lips brush against my cheek. “How about round two on the sofa?”
“Maybe I should get you neutered,” I joke.
“Don’t even fucking think about it,” he laughs, finally pulling out of me and collapsing at my side.
I walk towards my release, the keys to unbind my hands. It is then I notice that my cock is no longer covered in the condom I used to fuck him, yet I had no hands to remove it! I look back at Austin as I use the key to remove my cuffs, and I laugh at the small amount of rubber hanging between his perfect cheeks.
I cough to clear my throat.
“Erm…Austin, you still have the condom in you,” I laugh as his hand wanders to his arse and he blushes before pulling the rubber free and tying a knot in it.
“Oops. How did that happen?” He asks.
“Obviously it’s those tight cheeks of yours,” I wink, wanking my cock as I walk towards my sofa, ready for my second helping.
Austin is laying there on a blanket, his arms now over his head as he smiles up at me, licking those perfect lips of his again. I walk towards his face, placing my cock on his cheek and he does nothing but smile.
He is teasing me again. After the most intense sex of my life, he is now trying to tease me again, pretending to be all coy after revealing just how kinky he really is. I don’t think so!
“And what do you want me to do with that, exactly?” He teases, his gentle breath whipping through my pubic hair, making my balls tighten.
“You know what,” I say.
He raises an eyebrow questioningly at me. “Do I?”
Fuck this. No games. I need him, now!
“Please, baby,” I literally beg, the head of my cock whitening with pre cum.
As if on queue, he wraps those perfect lips of his around my cock as he devours my length down his throat.
I lean over him so that I am hanging my upper body over the end of the sofa, as I begin to fuck my man’s face. His finger starts to work the buttplug that is still in my arse.
This is my beautiful boyfriend. Yes, mine, my beautiful man. He replaces the plug with his fingers, allowing them to say hello to my hole and I know I am close, about to shoot my load all over again. I pull out before, so I can release myself over his firm, naked chest, making him sparkle in my jizz. I lay on him, taking his cock in my hand as I start to work him, kissing his lips gently before pulling back and looking into his eyes, wearing nothing but my cum. I watch as his breath deepens, his face contorting into the one that is on the brink of climax.
“Cum for me, baby boy,” I tell him, working his cock faster as his head pulls back so he can scream his orgasm. I watch as his cum drips down my hand and onto my wrist, his juices painting my skin in the colour of him.
I fall onto him, rubbing his cum up his body to mix with mine as I kiss him gently
I may still have other men playing in my head, pulling at my sexual lust, but right now, here is exactly where I want to be.
It has been a day like no other. It’s one I am glad I went through, but hope I never have to go through again. I have Samara back in my life, who is somehow forgiving me, then my mother telling me she wants nothing more to do with me.
What did I really do to deserve that?
Am I really that disgusting?
I’d needed my own release, a way to lose myself, and Tom helped me there. He’s taken me to a place of absolute pleasure, such bliss. He’s shown me just how much he really loves me and he is still here beside me as we lay on the sofa, drinking in each others breaths.
“Thank you,” I tell him, as I lay with my back to his chest, his arm draped over me lovingly.
“Huh? What did I do?” He asks, gently pulling my face round to his.
There they are, those big pools of ocean blue staring back at me. Will he ever really know the effect he has on me?
“You took my mind and body away from all the crap.” He has; he’s taken everything that is me on a journey to a place my body is now loving. It’s a place where my orgasms are real, not part of an act. Tom has managed to take me on that journey and chase away my fears with his touch and his kiss, as we lose ourselves in sex.
I lose track of how long we make love, how many times he has my body screaming out in ecstasy. All I know is that within all that time, I feel more and more free. I am able to show him the Austin Mann I want to be, the lover I aspire to become, not the scared little boy my parents insist upon me becoming.
I feel his lips brush against my back and I smile, rejoicing in the fact I have someone like him. Somehow I have managed to make this Adonis look to someone like me with adoration. How is that even possible? I am nothing but plain!
I am not stupid to think that this will last forever, knowing how wild his heart is, but for now, right at this moment, I am in the arms of Tom Parks. He is the man who says he loves me. I want to hear those words every day of the year. I want to watch as our bodies age together, before we lay each other down to rest for the final time.
I want my last breath of love to be for him, the man who broke me free from my head.
Okay, so maybe I do think this will last forever. Maybe I am that stupid. Right now, though, I just don’t care.
I grip his arm, holding on to the moment and my foolish notion, and I pray that somehow this will last for eternity.
I can dream, can’t I?
All I have at the moment are just dreams…small fantasies in my head of a life I really want.
We don’t talk much after that, finally letting our bodies shut down and fall into sleep, right there on the sofa, happy in the knowledge that tomorrow is another day.
Maybe things will get better.
Maybe my Mummy will love me again.
So many maybes.
I am woken by the downpour of rain crashing against his large windows, each droplet smashing against the glass. I am still on the sofa where we fell asleep, but it isn’t the noise that woke me. It’s more the smell from the kitchen and that’s when I realise I am alone on the sofa.
What the hell died?
“Shit! Bastard! Fuck!” I look in the direction of the kitchen. Tom is clearly fighting with something on the cooker.
Is he actually cooking?
I sit up and watch in amazement, the man who looks like Tom, holding a spatula and trying to fry something. What the hell is he cooking?
“I thought this was a show kitchen?” I say, trying not to laugh at the bomb site before me.
What was once a clean kitchen now has had its own disaster makeover with food and packaging redecorating every inch of every surface. You would never have thought that this was once a new kitchen, an extension of a wardrobe, a new place to make love.
He turns towards me and I swear if looks can kill, well, my body will be his new wallpaper.
He drops the spatula and takes the pan off the heat, frustration finally beating him.
“Why the fuck do people even do this crap? Don’t they know you can just eat out or order in?” He snaps, turning the heat off and throwing the pan in the sink.
I walk up behind him, dressed in only the blanket he laid over me, turning him in for a hug. I ignore his childish pout on his lips and kiss him anyway, trying to help him relax, and he finally does.
“Was this for me?” I ask, smiling.
“My failed attempt at trying to kill you,” He jokes, still looking angry.
I look past him into the sink and see the frying pan with the remains of some whole eggs that are now black!
Was he really trying to fry un-cracked eggs?
“Erm…Tom, you know you’re meant to crack the eggs to fry them, right?” I say, trying not to laugh at the situation.
He glares at me. “Of course I know that. I am not stupid! I am making boiled eggs!” He barks.
I try, but I can’t help myself! The laugh escapes me before I have a chance to stifle it.
“And what’s so fucking funny?!” He snaps.
I swallow, trying to push the image from my mind as I look up into his hurt eyes.
“You’re…not…supposed…to…fry…the…egg…to…make…it….boiled…” After each word, I have to pause, to swallow my escaping belly laugh, and fuck it is killing me.
Tom grunts loudly and turns away from me, making for the balcony door, but I grab his hand to prevent him leaving.
That’s when it hits me, how stupid I have been! My last comment just stabbed through me as it causes his face to crumble. Of course he doesn’t know how to make a boiled egg! He had no time to learn how to cook from his mother, and then spent the rest of his time pretty much on the streets, so no, of course he doesn’t know how to make a boiled egg!
Well done, Austin!!!
His obvious attempt to do something nice for me, I have managed to turn to crap, to literally throw it in his face.
How could I be so stupid?
“How about I make the eggs and you set a table?” I suggest.
Please forgive me, Tom.
He grunts, which I take as a yes as he begins to move back towards me without making eye contact.
I turn to the bags on the counter, finally realising that he must have left me to go buy this small banquet. He even got tea bags!
Fuck, I am such an idiot!
He stands beside me, still grunting while I set about making the eggs, hoping he likes them sunny side up.
So Tom really can’t cook? How the hell did he manage this long?
He watches my every movement as I prepare the eggs, but turns away whenever he sees me looking. So he does want to learn, but not to be taught?
I smile to myself as I go about making our breakfast, slowing everything down so that he can take it all in and process every detail. I don’t let on that I am doing this, that I know he is watching. No, I simply relish in the fact he is taking note, wanting to be able to do this for me one day.
What his mother was unable to show him, I want to teach him what mine once showed me…I just wish she still loved me!
I discard the blanket, pulling on some of his joggers as the food is almost done.
My simple act of making such a simple meal of eggs on crusty bread has his face lighting up. We take our small meal out onto the balcony, to eat under the sun that breaks just after the rain stopped, leaving a small rainbow over the city. When our stomachs are fully satisfied, I notice he’s almost licked clean plate. So he liked my eggs. That makes me smile.
“That tasted amazing!” He says, rubbing his tummy happily. “Where did you learn to cook?”
“At college,” I lie, thinking fast.
How can I tell the man who lost his mother so brutally, that my own mother taught me to cook? Every weekend I helped her cook, bonded with her over a stove, only for her to turn on me, to forget the moments I cherish.
I push the burning memories to the back of my mind as I allow new memories to replace them. The first of my new memories is to be the odd sense of pleasure I get from the knowledge I managed to fill my man, to take in his awe from my act of cooking the most simple of meals.
“Glad you liked it,” I say, blushing slightly at his praise.
My phone bleeps from inside and I get up to go retrieve it from the small coffee table, knowing it must be Samara telling me she is awake. I really should have called her and invited her over. She is alone, after all, and came here to see me.
“Hello?” I say into the phone from the unknown number.
“Hello, may I please speak with Austin Mann?” The polite voice of a lady asks.
“Erm…this is Austin,” I say, wondering who is calling me and how they got my new number.
Tom changed your SIM card, stupid!
“Hello, Mr Mann. My name is Beth and I am calling from the finance office of Leeds University,” she tells me.
The finance office is calling me? Why?
“Hi, is there a problem?” I enquire, my voice breaking slightly.
“I am afraid your last tuition fee cheque bounced. I tried to call your parents, but they tell me you’re paying for yourself now. So your yearly fee is now overdue, and we will require payment within the week if you wish to remain on the course,” Beth informs me.
Is this the start of my parents rejecting me?
Am I really cut off?
“Mr Mann?” The lady prompts.
I swallow, ignoring the approaching Tom and his look of confusion.
“I…I…will need to come back to you,” I say, shaking slightly. “How much do I owe?”
“Your yearly fee is £10,000. That is for your room in the halls, too.”
My stomach flips as my eggs start to make their way back up my throat and I have to swallow it again.
Where am I supposed to get that from in a week?
I hang up after thanking the lady, still in shock, but before I get to answer Tom’s quizzical look, my phone beeps again indicating I have a new message.
I look down at the message and it brings forth the first of my saddened tears.
Leave him or live to regret it!!!
Can they really be this cruel?
They have just cut me off…but really?
Again my phone beeps.
Ugly little fucker!!!
If this is my parents, then they clearly are starting to show me what they really think.