Copyright 2003 SolCorazon. All Rights Reserved.
Disclaimer: If love and sex offend you, if you are under 18 and/or this is illegal in your area, don't read.
This story is copy written by me and may not be used without my permission. All of the people in this story exist only in my twisted dreams.
If you like this story, please let me know at SolCorazon (at) aol.com
To JB. Your words move me. I miss you. I love you.
Enslaving David
By SolCorazon
Back again in the bar again.
Not sure why.
I've had serious doubts about my sanity many times over the years. This is just more evidence that sanity might not be an option for me. In my real life, I'm a nurse in the ER. That also could possibly be more evidence in the insane column. Maybe. Could go either way I guess.
He was there again. If he hadn't been there already, I might have suspected that he had followed me or something. Just call me paranoid.
Tonight, even though it was kinda cool, I had on my black leather vest, so that I could feel it against my skin and so I could smell it. I think in my last lifetime, I must have been an animal, because I am just barely civilized in this one.
The leather attracts eyes and so does the black and blue flag with the heart on it that's sewn onto the left chest pocket. The bar is about fifty-fifty tonight. Half the people in the bar know what the flag means, half probably don't, or if they do, they ain't into it.
I like it that way. I'm not into labels and being categorized into some little box I can't break out of. Just let me be me. Give me what I want when I want it and how.yeah.whoever thought that one up is my kinda guy.
I have to look. I have to look into those eyes again. I haven't been able to get them out of my head all day. The look in them grabs at something inside of me and twists it.
I'm hard again. It's not the kind of hard that I get when I think somebody's hot. Or the kind of hard I get when I want to fuck somebody. It's the kind of hard that's gnawing away at me.
It's not just my dick that's alive and standing at attention. It's every fucking thing in me. I don't like it.
It feels good.
I don't want him though. Ok, truth is, I don't want to want him. I can't play with someone so fragile. I'd break him. I'd learned early in the game that I can't do it half ass. I don't want to do it like that. I won't do it like that.
I'm making it sound like I'm a big guy. I'm not. I'm barely six feet tall and not thick like the guys I find so attractive. I'm all muscle. If I knew who my parents were, I'd say it's probably genetic. I run a couple days a week just to burn off excess energy and I hit the gym just about every day for the same reason. Nothing heavy duty though.
He gives me that look again. It draws me. I want to give him what he needs. The look is so intense; it is as if he is speaking to me. I am drowning in those sweet, beautiful eyes.
His lips move and I stare at them, riveted. Please, he mouths.
He sits there, looking at me, hands folded on the table in front of him, like a schoolboy sitting at a school desk listening attentively to a teacher. He sits there and waits like he will wait forever. For me.
I stand up. Once again, his eyes drop down to my crotch, almost as if he can't help it. He stares hungrily for a few moments. When his eyes raise to mine again, his face is open and vulnerable, not sure what I'm going to do but waiting patiently to see.
"Follow me," I said.