Part X
I woke up consumed by Duke.
His arms tightened around me, his pectorals pushed into my back. He was coated in a sheen of sweat, which surrounded me, infiltrating my skin. The sun had been peeking over the horizon for some time now, and I felt as though I had been cooking in Duke's broth. A dirty, meaty aroma hung around the room, and I was hungry.
I spun around slowly, nuzzling into him. I sucked on his nipple; then, I felt his grip on my hair.
"You shouldn't have slept here," Duke said, his voice gravelly.
"Didn't you like it?"
"I feel stiff. For a little guy, you take up way too much of the bed."
"Well—the beds are tiny."
"Next time, if there is a next time, I'm gonna push you into the crevice between the bed and the wall. That's what I do to girls when they get too cuddly and sappy."
"Duke—" I whined.
He bit my ear. "Shut up," he breathed. "We need to get you to the showers without people noticing you were in my room."
"So what if people notice? I care about you Duke. I don't want to hide anything." I pressed up against him and hugged him, breathing him in. "Don't you think they might have heard? You weren't exactly quiet last night."
"When you get fucked, you squeal. They'll think it was a girl."
I pushed him softly with one hand. "Hey!" I said.
"Y'know, I haven't showed them my bubble-making machine."
Often, the halls were empty, but at the end of the hall, there was a communal space like a living room where people sat around the big round table. There, they pretended to do homework while eating food, playing games, scouring Facebook, and talking about the professors they hated the most.
After throwing on some clothes, Duke pulled a big contraption (composed mostly of duct tape, as far as I could tell) out of his closet. "Listen. While I'm showing them this, you can sneak across the hall to the bathroom."
Duke tossed me a towel, leaving the door cracked open as he lugged the bubble machine through it and sauntered away.
I heard guys down the hall whooping and hollering at Duke. Once I heard the familiar, "bip, bip, bip," of bubbles, I knew it was my chance.
I whipped the door open, slipped through, and clicked it shut again behind me, lunging across the hall into the bathroom. Even if someone had seen me--unless they had a really good angle--they wouldn't be sure I didn't just come out from my own room.
In the shower, I let the water patter all over my body, rinsing my chaotic thoughts away.
I rubbed my sore ass slowly in my palms.
I didn't know if my body was built to take that kind of pounding.
I lost track of time, and when I remembered myself, my skin was turning red from the heat. I swiveled the dial, toweled off, and walked to my room, dripping a little in the hallway.
I shut the door behind me, feeling safe, but a little blindsided. I wrinkled my mouth.
Then, I rolled the closet door open and picked up Duke's crumpled jeans. I raised them up, draped them over my face, and sniffed, stumbling back with my eyes half-closed. I fell into bed, groping my dick.
BANG BANG BAM.
Pounding on the door. I sighed, tossed Duke's jeans into the crack between my bed and the wall, and let him in.
"Duke," I said.
He handed me a box from the dining commons. He had filled it with a spinach-onion omelet, a waffle he clearly had tried to make himself at the waffle-making station (there were holes and rips in it everywhere), bacon, strawberries and whipped cream, and a chocolate kiss.
"Thanks for getting this for me."
"I didn't," he said, tossing me my meal-points card.
"Well—thanks for physically retrieving it for me, then," I said, blushing. "I don't think I can eat all this."
"I'll help you if you want."
He had brought an extra fork. I leaned into him on the bed, and we ate together.
Between bites, he turned toward me. "My poly-sci gang is going on a snowboarding trip at the end of finals. You can meet my buddy from high school—Roy—he's tagging along. Sound good?"
I nodded, chewing a crunchy bit of waffle. "As long as he's nothing like you—I'll be fine. "
"He worships me. So he's like you actually. Without the cock-sucking."
I turned a bit red but didn't trust myself to say anything. We cleaned out the box and I put it on my bedside table, next to my clock.
"Crap!" I said.
"What?"
"I need to get to my library job."
"Sure you don't have time to do a job for me?"
He gripped me by the back of the neck and pulled me into his crotch.
"Duke," I said, laughing, but opting not to resist. He dragged my head around, and I felt the contour of his half-hard cock through his shorts, brushing against my face. Eventually, my head nestled into his balls. "Duke—please. I need to get to work."
"You are asking for permission?" Duke said, massaging my neck, making me moan.
"Please..."
"Alright," Duke said, releasing me. "I don't want to ruin your life."
"Can I trust you not to set my room on fire or anything? I've got to go, now."
"Of course you can trust me. Don't you know me?"
"That's what I'm afraid of. Anyway, I gotta go!" I threw on some clothes, and leaned in to kiss him. He turned away. I mostly caught his cheek and just grazed the corner of his lip. His eyes flashed. My mouth fell half-open, and I looked down. "G'bye, Duke."
He raised his eyebrows as I walked away. I turned at the doorway. "You'll be around when I get back tonight?"
"Maybe."
I nodded hopefully, and watched the door swing shut between us.
The library was less full than expected, with a lot of people choosing to study elsewhere, apparently too lazy to make it onto campus on the weekends.
The hours passed slowly, giving me time to get lost in my mind. What if last night was just a fluke? A drunken stroke of luck that couldn't be replicated? As much as I feared that Duke would take joy in trashing my room, I was even more afraid that he would just disappear, or worse, become that boy that walked by me in the halls, barely acknowledging I was even there.
What did Duke think of me, anyway?
He HAD just dangled the idea of a cabin trip at the end of the term.
He was keeping me hoping.
In any case--it didn't seem like he valued a lot of the stuff I was good at. Joey and I used to have some pretty deep discussions—it wasn't all about rust on bridges and how many buttons to leave undone. We could talk about politics and society and academia and philosophy. Duke and I just didn't talk that much by comparison. Often my mouth was otherwise occupied.
At any rate, Duke liked to talk about things like the giraffe from the movie Madagascar.
I felt like when I was with him, all that stuff went out the window, and I had one singular purpose, and I reveled in it. It wasn't that I didn't care about that deeper stuff—it was just outweighed.
And that made me feel a little shallow. Our relationship, or whatever the hell it was, consisted mostly of sex and dry-humping. There was nothing wrong with that, in a way; I just hoped we could build on that.
I had given a lot up for Duke.
So much of my attention was devoted to trying not to freak him out—like, say, sneaking to the bathroom so no one would know about us. I'd never put myself through that kind of indignity before. And I worried that it would be a roadblock to everything deeper that I sought.
There wasn't much I could do about it, though. Duke was the path I had chosen. I would do anything to make it work.
Duke was right. I had given him total control.
And secretly, a part of me liked it that way.
I just hoped...
A guy came to check out books. It looked kind of like the guy from a few weeks back, who I had glared at before stamping his books wrong. I tried not to repeat my mistakes.
When I got back to my room that night, Duke was gone. I looked around briefly to see if he had done anything to sabotage my room, but there seemed to be nothing special. Still, it was hard to get that ominous weight to drop in my stomach.
That was until I opened my sliding closet door.
About fifty helium balloons jumped out (they were really packed in there). Several managed to bounce off my face in a boisterous fashion.
I grabbed one and hugged it as I curled up on my bed.
I waited in bed for a time, gazing up at the hole in the wall, and trying to relax.
Then, in a sort of surreal moment, the container of lube popped forth, arching from the gap, through the air, and finally landing next to my balloon.
Slowly, the bulbous head of Duke's cock peeked through; the rolling contours snaked in, inch by inch, till the entire monster loomed, casting a barred shadow over my eye.
There was a circle of string with a new note on it, which I pulled off.
<Lady's Choice>
I smirked.
I stripped off my clothes and crawled on my hands and knees across the bed, staring into the slit of Duke's monster.
Then, slowly, I licked the head of Duke's cock.
Duke growled.
I dragged my tongue over from head to base, layering it with a stripe of spit. I did this over and over like painting, till the surface of his cock was covered. Then, I lapped at it rapidly, like a dog drinking water. I swiveled my head around, coating it, drooling freely.
"Fuck yeah," Duke murmured.
I moaned, bobbing my head up and down on it. I didn't suck—I just leaked spit everywhere.
I grabbed the container of lube and used it to massage my hole while I slobbered all over Duke's big cock.
I shoved a finger up my ass, grunting. I was still sore.
I closed my eyes and swirled my tongue.
I wrenched my finger out, wrinkling my face.
I let Duke's cock slip out and hopped off the bed, dragging my bedframe away from the wall. Then, I shimmied into the cranny, grabbed Duke's cock, and positioned it against my hole.
I closed my eyes—and impaled myself part way.
The sensation was so powerful my mind blocked it out.
I didn't care if it hurt. I wouldn't hesitate. I wanted to Duke to know yesterday wasn't an isolated innocent. Duke fucked me--that would be the pattern.
I leaned back till I was almost up against the wall.
"Shit," I said, straining, trying to keep my eyes open.
It was slightly less daunting than the day before. It still seemed impossible, but I had a little more control, and it was going in a little bit easier.
"Hell, that's tight," Duke said, his voice muffled. I heard his palms clap against the wall.
I felt like I was inventing new vowels as I slammed my ass back, finally bottoming out. Then I lost the willpower to speak.
Duke took control.
He dragged his cock out of me, then slammed it back in.
I hung forward, gasping.
"Yeah, bitch."
His hands drummed on the wall as his cock beat inside me.
I finally managed to whimper, putting my hands on my knees to keep from falling.
"Your ass is mine."
He pulled his cock all the way out, and I just waited, focusing on my breathing. Then, he reamed me, gouging his cock back inside and stretching me out.
"Fuck," I whispered, the word heavy on my tongue.
"That's a good boyhole," Duke growled. "Accept what you are."
I closed my eyes. "I'm your bitch," I whispered.
"Yeah, you are."
For a minute, the only sound was breathing.
"I love you, Duke."
He paused, then grunted, before thrusting into me again.
"Look, if I wanted all of that faggot foreplay crap, I wouldn't be fucking you through a glory hole. Don't push your luck."
"Duke..."
"It's Manpike," he snarled, his humping growing vicious.
I gripped the mattress in front of me to keep my balance, my body forming a kind of bridge from my bed to the hole in the wall, held up by the bed frame and my straining legs.
Erica's voice echoed in my mind.
Don't threaten his masculinity. Let him figure things out on his own time. Just play along for a while. If you are lucky, he'll come around.
I wanted to push my luck, despite his warnings. I'd just have to do it right...
"Manpike," I whispered. "You are such a stud. I just melt with you inside me. Can you really blame me?"
"I guess not... Just don't expect anything from me."
"I don't. But still—I love you."
"Shut up."
"No. If you wanted to be able to shut me up, you shouldn't hide behind a wall."
"Fine."
His cock hooked inside of me as he drew backward, lodging my body against the hole like something getting stuck down a drain. Slowly, his cock slithered out of my ass bit by bit. Then, it cut loose with a pop, leaving me empty and stunned. I stumbled forward, my head bouncing off the bed, before I gathered my bearings.
"Duke?" I whispered. Fear gripped me. Had I pushed him too far?
Then, I heard pounding on the door. I walked over and swung it open. Duke shoved me, and I stumbled backward, falling onto my bed. He was shirtless, wearing just his tight green shorts with his A & F briefs peeking out. They did nothing to hide his massive boner.
Sweat frosted his bulging muscles; light glinted in his crystalline eyes.
He glared at me, slamming the door behind him. As he walked toward me, he caught one of the balloons floating around, smashing his hands together to make it implode.
"Fuck you," Duke said, slamming me facedown into my pillow. "This is why you don't talk. I don't even want to hear your gay voice."
I pushed my ass into the air.
"That's right, pussyboy," Duke snarled.
He jammed his cock inside, all the way to the root, in one unthinkable motion.
"I do what I want with you, faggot."
I was frozen in place, completely helpless.
He smacked my ass. "You didn't have to give me control. You could have left things distant and detached. But you had to rile me up, didn't you? You had to make things all—emotional. And annoying."
I breathed into my pillow.
"Fine, boy. I'm gonna split you open then; let's see how your bitch ass likes that."
I wriggled around. I knew only a portion of his cock was inside me, because it felt like Joey on a good day.
Duke palmed my ass, soothing it.
"It's okay," he cooed. "It's good."
Then, he slammed his cock inside.
His abdominals clapped against my back; his balls swung into me like a pendulum.
"Duke," I whispered.
He smothered my face in the pillow.
He grunted, recreating the long journey in and out of me. Like an artist's reinterpretation, it felt a little different each time, sparking me in new ways.
He grew rougher, pushing me, testing me.
I softened and gave in to him.
"Yeah, boy," Duke said, drumming my ass again.
He picked up the pace.
I was like a fledging bird, trying to fly over and over, and crashing back down to earth every time.
I wanted to fly away with him—up into the sky.
He smashed back down, harder than before. He groped my ass, pulling it to the sides, jamming his cock in deeper.
I dribbled spittle onto my pillow.
When he got like this, I couldn't think normally. My senses hazed over. I couldn't decide if it was transcendence or sinking or something between—but I lost my normal mind, no longer connecting words and concepts, but instead something that I could never explain.
The drumbeat hastened; I didn't care if it was hands or abdominals; it was Duke on me, and that's where he belonged.
It reminded me of my days in orchestra, when I was supposed to feel the music, but didn't know how.
Maybe now I could.
Avec abandon; animato; incalzando.
I pushed against him and he reveled in it.
He said it slowly, dragging it out, especially at the beginning, when the noise hummed between his lips.
"MmmmBitch."
The pain lingered in my ass; he was beating it into me; I couldn't escape it.
Acciaccato; accesso; irato.
Pleasure sparked; I moaned; I was trapped.
He hammered me, forcing the air out of me, like the balloon he had inflated and popped.
I collapsed, broken, in my own bed.
Adagio; afetto; imperioso.
Duke slowed down, gripping my hair and making me crane my neck to look at him. His cocky smile drifted back.
"You like this?"
"Yes—Manpike."
"I'm a stud that makes you melt?"
"Yes...yes."
Duke raised an eyebrow. "S'well," he said.
Then, he forced my head back into the pillow, and went for it.
He slammed his cock into my ass with cruel vengeance, shattering any illusions of restraint, control, or respect. When I started to cum, he just ignored me, continuing his onslaught.
"It's about me, boyhole."
I made a strange gurgling noise I didn't even recognize.
He bit down on me as he pounded me.
"Yeah," I whispered. I shoved my ass against him, feeling it contract. Duke played on, unfazed. I felt relaxed and destroyed at the same time. I couldn't make sense of it.
I wasn't sure I even wanted to understand anymore.
"I'm about to cum, faggot."
He pulled out of my ass completely, leaving me shocked and empty. I waited—not sure what to do—waiting to feel him inside me again.
I didn't have time to catch my breath.
He grabbed me by the back of the head, and pulled me around. Then, he smirked, jamming my face down on his cock.
I gagged on it, looking up into Duke's twinkling eyes. His whole body flexed; his balls jumped; his cock was pulsing.
Wave after wave of cum rolled down my throat. The salty, creamy taste filled me.
I nursed his cock till he shoved me off.
"I gotta go," Duke said.
"Duke—" I said, my voice cracking. "Can you please stay? Just for a little while."
He pulled on his green shorts and hurried out of the room, not bothering to look back.
Soon enough, he was back in his room, flipping on a football game. He splayed out on his bed, his big muscles glinting, as he stared vaguely at the screen.
A little voice in my head was screaming, but I silenced it.
Final exams were coming up soon enough, after all.
I got out a textbook, ignoring the pain in my ass and the source lounging a room away.
Then, I started to read, hoping the words and concepts would finally make sense.
Feedback always appreciated! Messages keep me in the mood to write and edit and brainstorm. Always grateful for kind words and constructive ideas. Kudos to you. :)
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