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Lying Here PART THREE
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Lying Here PART THREE
I said, I'll have to meet your parents.
He said, I want you to fuck me in my parents bed.
He complained afterwards that I had bruised his balls.
I apologised, I promised to be careful - but I didn't care and I wasn't sorry. I said I'd lick them better. And I did. But he said they still hurt.
I said, you should hold it out of the way while I'm fucking you, and he said, I cannot do everything.
To tell the truth I could feel his soft crushed sweet breads between us when I was punching it up, and I liked that.
I pushed his legs apart and up behind his ears. He was that flexible.
Sometimes you know you are hurting but you carry on.
Perhaps there were some things we should've talked through but I didn't want to spoil it.
I told him to open his eyes. He looked at me. He opened his mouth. He showed me his teeth and his tongue. I could see down his throat to where it plunged away and descended into his chest like a pink tunnelling roller coaster, and released a silver line of spit into it.
I was inside him deep. I could feel his pulsing grip. --- We tidied the bed, picked up the towels we had used to clean up, and went into the garden to wait for his parents to return, laughing when we caught each other's eyes. I sat on a deckchair and he sat cross legged in front of me, weaving a bunch of grass into a plait. When he looked up I was staring at him.
Do I make you happy? I said. He grinned, winding the grass plait round his fingers. Of course you do. Do you still hurt? Yes, but it doesn't matter. It makes me think of you. I like that. You like thinking of me, what, fucking you? He laughed. Yes! I could see his gorgeous neat firm white teeth. It makes me think of your arms round me, kissing my neck, screwing me, he said.
I want to marry you, I said.
He looked down, shyly, his eyes twinkling with sadness. Can we do that? he said, without looking up. You know we can! Yes, but really, is that really an option? Yes, it's an option. Yeh, but isn't it complicated? It's simple. We just arrange things and say yes. Yes but ... We don't have to. It's not that. No I'm sorry. I just thought. Perhaps it's too early, or not a good idea, or something, I said, feeling at once the coldness that I feared - and hoped I had lost - from being alone.
I said, I thought you understood. I thought you wanted that too. I never actually said ... No. But you ... said you ... loved me. I still do. Do you? I ... Or do you just like the sex? I ... He raises his eyes at last to look at me, but the expression was exasperated.
When his parents got back we had slumped into silence. I think we were both angry. I was angry cs I now thought that sex was all we ever had. And he was angry cs I hadn't noticed that he needed more.
His mother sensed the atmosphere. His father did not - or did not appear to. As she retreated to the kitchen after a few words to make tea, he dropped into a chair with the paper. --- We left a few hours later. I did most of the talking at the meal - I was being interviewed as a prospective for their son. They didn't realise it was still so casual. I hadn't realised either. When we left, it was polite. I wondered if they expected ever to see me again, when they said, We look forward to seeing you again.
People talk such shit.
In the car I said, I'm sorry. Sorry for what? You were great. They love you. I meant, I'm sorry I spoilt the vibe. Sorry I pushed you. You weren't to know. You ... just took me by surprise. I wasn't ready. No. I thought you were, ready. It's a big step. It IS a big step. Are you sure you're ready? I'm more than sure. I've never been more certain of anything. I ... don't want to ever let you go. You don't? No. Never. Do you love me that much?
I stopped the car.
Why have we stopped? I released my seatbelt and turned to look at him feeling all the built up insane emotion that had accumulated in my heart. Listen babes, nothing in this world means more to me than you do. And having you by my side is all I care about. But if you don't feel the same. If this is just sex, a fling, to you. Well ... He was staring at me like he was afraid of what I would do. Well, what?? Well, I don't think I can do it. That's all. I watched his face, letting that idea just sink in.
Finally he said, So we're breaking up? Just because I won't get married after just a few weeks knowing you? If that's what you want. Cs, y'see babes, I do know. I know exactly what I want, and if you don't want it too, well then, I just as soon as not get hurt, any more than I do already.
All I wanted to do was kiss him. All I wanted to do was pull him towards me and kiss him and let him find me and put me in his mouth and let me fuck his face until my cum shot against the wall of his throat. All I wanted to do was hold him, and hurt him, and make him beg me to stop. I already knew it was hopeless.
Let's just drive, he said at last, facing the road. I can't take any more of this shit. I was livid. This SHIT! I shouted, is me LOVING you! I tugged at the belt and locked it on, pushed the car into gear and drove us home, in silence. When we got there he said he wanted to go back to his place. I offered to drive but he said there was no need.
I haven't seen him since. --- I guess it was a bit soon. I was rushing things - like I was desperate to lock him down before he could leave me; like I wanted to trap my dream in a glass jar before it could fly away. Just goes to show, I have no idea.
But it was for the best cs we got to find out pretty quick where we stood, and I got to find out exactly what kind of shit he was before I got too invested.
"Too invested." Ha. Listen to me, like I wasn't already up to my throat in him. Weeks passed and I was still moping, hoping he'd phone or just appear at my door, hoping I'd see him in some club or walking down the street. Thinking I'd wake up and he'd be beside me.
I'd just like to fuck him one more time, but this time do him properly, so he'd never forget. Really hurt him so he'd see. Give him no choice but to dream he still had my cock in him. Just see him begging me to stop, begging me not to stop, begging me to screw him again and again and letting him think he'd got what he wanted when all the time ...
... he'd lost everything he ever had.
That would help.
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END OF Lying Here PART THREE