Part XVII
BARM BARM BARM.
I glared out the window at the tendrils of rain that consumed the city. The water would congeal together in the sewer in a big, mindless rush.
Erica's anger must have boiled over. I had to go down and be with the family, right? I had to pretend it was all okay, because New Years is a tradition. And I had to care; I had to act like I believe I'll be any different tomorrow than I will be today, or that the world will.
BARM BARM BARM.
It was so fierce, I thought the door might come down.
But it wouldn't. It wasn't going to change. It was going to stay shut and I would regress into my little box, and I wouldn't care--not at all.
"I said go away, Erica!" I yelled.
"DAMMIT HOLDEN! I didn't just get fuckin' crapped on by hail and rain for twenty minutes to get stuck on the wrong side of a door. You know I'll just drill my way in if you don't open up."
"Duke!"
My body jolted to life; the jeans drooped to the floor; I shook off the malaise and slapped my cheeks one after another, willing myself to budge.
It was him!
I almost couldn't process it.
My hairs stood on end; I was nervous; I was static—but I had to move.
I crossed the room in three quick strides and cracked the door open. "Just give me a second to clean up—I'm not wearing anything."
"Oh no," Duke growled.
He wrenched the door open and pushed me backwards. A dark expression spread across his face.
I stumbled back onto my bed, my mouth hanging open, sucking in breath.
Duke clicked the door shut behind him and twisted the lock.
He turned back to me and his eyes flashed.
"You made it," I said, my voice cracking.
"Looks like."
I took a moment to look him over. His shirt was drenched. It took me a while to recognize that it was the sky blue polo I gave to him; at this point, it was almost see-through, clinging to the protruding folds of muscle along his chest.
A second later, he had pulled it off; the lines of his musculature rutted deeper in the shadows. He twisted his shirt into a clump, milking the water out and making a spot on the carpet.
I was too afraid to say anything.
His hair had been flattened by rain; it hung slightly to the side in a soggy clump. He flexed his arm absentmindedly, flashing me his armpit. His biceps bulged as he ran a hand through his hair, forcing it to stand up a little straighter, till it looked more like it did after his gel had partially worn off.
His other hand clutched the umbrella I had found at the beginning of the year, though now it was mangled.
"I was gonna return this to you," he said, tossing what was left of the umbrella at the head of the bed, "Since you left it in Victoria's trunk. So there you go—I guess."
"Thanks."
Duke wiggled out of his jeans.
His blue eyes looked darker tonight.
The rain had soaked all the way through his jeans into his boxers, and I could see the outline of his half-hard monster cock. He never was too good at hiding when he was aroused.
He walked over, then pushed me back onto the bed, crawling on top of me. He straddled my thighs and held my arms over my head, looming over me.
"Duke..." I whispered.
He flashed me a half-smile. Faint city lights refracted along the surface of Duke's body; his outline took on a silver gleam.
"What?" he asked.
"I just don't even know where to start," I said. "With an apology? With an accusation? I'm remorseful, but I'm mad, and mostly I'm just tired of it...But I have to know-- if you even really want me, or if you want to be with someone else, or with no one at all."
Duke put two fingers around my lips like scissors, and closed them for me, then held them there.
"Shut up for a minute."
He looked down at me for a while, his eyes softening. I wasn't sure what to do, so I waited.
The rain drummed, and my heartbeat stomped along.
"I broke it off with my girl," he said. "I actually called her up. She pretended like she didn't care, and it was all official and awkward. She didn't make me feel anything, really. She wasn't like you."
Duke's hand moved away from my lips, journeying up my cheek and pushing the hair out of my eyes.
There was a rumble all around us. I worried it might be thunder again, but it was too rhythmic.
Counting. Downstairs--on the television--all around.
TEN. NINE. EIGHT.
Duke licked his lips. His dimples stretched in the shadows, and I looked into his eyes again--though there was little I could see in the dark.
Midnight was near.
SEVEN. SIX. FIVE.
His eyes glinted; he tightened his grip on my arm—the one he held over my head.
Just a few seconds till the new year.
FOUR. THREE. TWO.
I didn't feel boxed in anymore, despite being pinned down. I was connected—but not constrained.
I closed my eyes.
ONE.
Duke kissed me.
His lips were soft on mine—lush.
He was all wet; I could feel the rain. It slipped between us in little beads; it was amongst us; it was around us; drip-drip-dripping on the walls and windows and splinters in the pavement.
The rain didn't stop the fireworks that people launched defiantly into the storm, bearing it back, if only for a moment, boiling little falling beads here and there until they were clouds again.
Fiery webs sparkled through the mist, through the hail, and through the rain.
Duke kissed me.
The grip of his lips was firm on mine. He pulled and pushed them; he played them. His lips were stuck on mine, yet he couldn't hide his smile; the crease of his dimples stretched through the dark.
I could smell the rain, mingled with his sweat, and a new calm flooded over me that I hadn't quite known before.
Downstairs, the guests celebrated; they blared on their kazoos, they clapped their noisemakers, they detonated their confetti.
Together, they shook the building, and it sent shivers along my spine.
Duke kissed me.
He grabbed my arm by the wrist and pulled it down his chest. My palm bounced over his muscles like speed bumps. With a smirk, he forced my hand under the fold of his boxers and guided it to his uncontainable, bulging cock.
The rain splattered against the window, blurring the image of the outside world, and obscuring its image of us. It rinsed away obvious things; it washed away boundaries; for a moment, everything coalesced.
The fireworks had fallen; the chatter had faded; the rain had softened.
Yet the thunder continued in the chamber of my heart.
Duke kissed me.
He humped my fist; his boxers rolled bit by bit down to his balls; he flexed; his tongue grazed my lips, bridging the darkness till our tongues collided—stringing a lifeline between us.
Shards of rain on the window glimmered with the rising moonlight, sending slivers of radiance all over Duke's face--all over the contours of his body—until I could see him differently, and a refection of myself in his eyes.
His mirage was navigable; our path was connected; I was to follow him; we were to touch, to mingle, to become one.
I didn't know what I would find at the end of the line. But if I let my soul guide me, then maybe I'd understand something I didn't—and couldn't know before. Something that I could only understand by living out the path of my hopes and fears, which weren't so easily untangled after all.
Duke kissed me.
He let me get sloppy. I sucked moisture from him; I memorized the taste, I was instantly addicted to the flavor of his lips. His cock burrowed through the clutch of my fist and jabbed between my balls before riding up my torso.
The rain from the sky had stopped, and now all that was left was the dripping from the trees and the gutters.
The sweat and rain had evaporated from the surface of our bodies in our heat; it was supposed to cool us, but it was as though I couldn't feel cold anymore.
I closed my eyes again.
Duke kissed me.
I was lost in the rhythm of his cock furrowing the grooves of my body. He reached down to the bedside, and the fine hairs of his armpit twinkled in the moonlight. The smell of his musk washed over me.
I could swear it was raining through the ceiling. Not quite, but that's what it felt like as the drip-drip-drip started up. Duke held the broken umbrella above my head, watering my face like a flower.
He grabbed both my hands, pinning them above my head again. He wrapped them up in the umbrella strap, tying them together. Then he pushed the umbrella past the head of the bed, sending it off the cliff, so that its tense weight pulled my body taut. It stretched me out, compelling me to buck into the air.
He wrapped his arms around me, hugging me tightly.
Duke kissed me.
He nibbled my lip; he tongued me; he made my tendons twang like the strings of a violin.
His lips dribbled and danced over mine; the clock was ticking downstairs; we blinked with it. Duke humped the surface of my body.
I couldn't process it; I couldn't wrap my head around it. It was like I was on fire. "Duke—"
"It's okay," he whispered, flexing his arms around me. "It's okay."
Duke kissed me.
My arms strung over my head; my lips pinned under his; my body wrapped in him, held down, kneaded by his cock till my skin was soft as clouds.
Sweat pooled on the surface of his body, until it began to slowly drip onto mine. I was inundated with the essence of him.
Sparks flickered at my extremities—at the fringes of my fingers and the tips of my toes.
They collected at the edge.
Duke kissed me.
He tightened his muscles around me as his tongue coiled deep inside.
The feeling at the edge of my body trickled forth, seeping through, flooding over me, till it was everywhere—till every inch of my body was drenched in it.
The fire was everywhere now—I felt it in every inch of my body. "Duke!"
"Let it happen, Holden. Let it happen."
Duke kissed me. Then he kissed me again. And again.
Our lips were sealed together—and I was trapped and freed at the same time—I was in love.
Cum rained from my dick. It painted Duke's abdominals with glimmering starlight, streaking the shadowed skin above me.
The sparks burst freely, one jolt after another, blazing through me, till all I could feel was light.
Duke held me through it all, allowing it all, and we were at peace with one another—and the world—at least tonight.
Duke kissed me. And then—our lips parted.
Duke sat on the edge of the bed, turning away from me. He grabbed his monster cock in one hand, slowly tracing out the space between the piped base, the limitless shaft, and the ballooning head.
"You came all over me, Holden. You made a huge fuckin' mess."
"I know," I said meekly, still too drained to move. My hands were tied behind my back by the straps of the umbrella. When had that happened? I must have been in a kind of trance while we were kissing; I hadn't really put it together.
"Nothin' much even happened," Duke said. "We were just--kissing. You know what this is gonna sound like when I tell Roy? `I went over to Holden's house on New Years, cuz he was beggin'and pleadin', and then we made out and he came all over himself."
"Duke," I said. I leaned forward slowly and pulled the umbrella up out of the crack between the bed and the wall. It leaked on my pillow, blemishing it. I slid over to sit next to Duke. "You know it was more than that."
"It will be soon," Duke said.
He snapped his fingers, and then pointed down near his feet.
He raised his eyebrows, biting his tongue at the corner of his mouth.
My breathing was heavy.
I sunk to the floor, maneuvering myself between his legs.
"What did you say that you would do for me—on the phone?" He asked.
"Anything."
"Say it again."
"I'd do anything for you, Duke."
He tilted my head back, so that I was looking up into his twinkling eyes. He smirked; starlight danced there, among the shadow.
"Suck my balls, bitch."
With my eyes locked with his, I opened my mouth wide and engulfed one after the other.
His cock loomed over my face, bisecting my field of vision into two boxes--two halves of the world. In a way, Duke had his world, and I had mine. He lived on the other side of the tracks.
But maybe we didn't need to dread the boundaries anymore.
His eyes twinkled as I nursed his musk. He padded his feet against the ground; I tongued the outline of his balls, smacking each with a kiss.
Did it matter what walk of life people were from? In some ways people are indistinguishable, and there's something reassuring about that. Even a stud like Duke hits road blocks here and there.
What gets me, even more than the people that make it to the end of the road unscathed, are the people that don't quite get over the hump—but try their very best, all the way to the bitter end.
I don't want to give up on myself when the going gets tough. But usually, that's just part of the picture.
Everyone is on the edge, in some way or another.
So, given the chance, why not pick someone up—and fly them safely home?
"Fuck, Holden," Duke said, running his hands through my hair.
And as for people's distinguishing features—there's no reason that can't be part of the fun.
I dragged my tongue past his balls and along the piped base of his monster.
"Yeah, worship that Popsicle."
My tongue made the journey up his shaft, teasing out the contours that went on and on—seemingly forever.
Eventually--at long last--I reached the bulbous tip.
Duke gripped the back of my head, pulling me slightly away from his cock. "Holden—you came all over me."
I nodded, my mouth half-open, looking up into his eyes again.
"Made a huge fuckin' mess."
I nodded again.
"You should clean it up."
"Yes--Manpike."
Duke pulled me in. My cum had glazed over in an even layer all across his abdominals, so I had to lick strip after strip of rolling skin, like plowing a field for crops. His cock kept getting in the way, bouncing around, stabbing at my chin and cheeks. Nevertheless, I was able to harvest out a mix of my cum and Duke's piquant sweat, which I gulped down on contact.
"Taste good?"
"Mmmn."
"Yeah? What tastes better—yours or mine?"
"Yours, Duke," I croaked. "Yours is the best."
"You want my cum?" Duke asked.
"Yes," I said, my lips dragging against his skin.
"Maybe you should milk my cock, then."
He clasped the back of my head; I leaned in, getting closer and closer to the head of his cock; but then, when I got close enough to just reach it, he held me back. My wrists were still tied, so I had precious little leverage.
I whined, sticking out my tongue.
"Looks like you really want it," Duke growled. "So fuckin' eager to be my cocksucker."
I nodded, biting my lip. "I'm all yours."
"Aw, hell," Duke said.
He pulled me up into the air—then slammed me down on his cock, cramming a wedge of it inside my mouth.
I stole a glance up at Duke and saw the determination in his eyes.
He stroked my hair. "I'm not going to go easy on you like I did the first time."
The first time...was easy?
He casually ran his hand up my throat and I willed myself not to choke.
"You kept gaggin', and we had to switch positions like ten times till your throat gave in. But now you've had plenty of practice, and you know better, right?"
I nodded around the pole stretching my face.
"Good," Duke said, rubbing the back of my neck now. "Cuz I like you on your knees."
He applied constant pressure on the back of my head, forcing his cock deeper and deeper inside.
Slowly but surely, more and more of his cock burrowed in.
I winced; I focused; I opened up.
I would be a good hole for him—as good as I could be.
"Yeah, that's what I'm talkin' about," Duke growled. "Slurp up my pole."
A part of his cock hit my throat wrong and it closed up a little, but I fought through it, refusing to cough.
"Mmmn. Feels good, Holden. Just a little bit more."
That was an understatement.
There was still a good half of Duke's cock I had yet to imbibe.
He was insistent, however, and with each breath, he forced more in, bit by bit.
I looked up into his eyes and impulsively shook my head a bit.
"Can't take anymore? Don't you wanna open up for me?"
I controlled myself and nodded.
"That's good, Holden. That's real good."
With a brutal push, he buried my face in his pubic hair. I couldn't look up into his eyes anymore. My face was impaled by his supple, protracted cock, and compressed in the sticky skin of his abdominals.
"You are my bitch, Holden."
"Mmn Hmn."
Duke stroked my hair. "You'd better get used to this."
My throat adjusted, making room, and I slurped, then dragged my tongue back and forth.
"Fuck yeah."
Duke grabbed my head and ground it up and down on his pole. His cock mashed my throat up like a pestle, like I was his mortar bowl—to work with, to fill, to use. Though—we were more than mere tools. I felt homey—like Duke lived inside me.
Slowly, my lips dragged over every luscious contour of his monster. Then, with a snarl, he slammed me back down till I was immersed in him, my forehead glued to his abdominals and my chin plugged up by his balls.
He gripped my head and pistoned in and out. He jacked my head up and down too, as his breathing grew heavier and heavier. My eyes drooped as I accepted what was happening.
He started to slow down, which caught me off guard. The speed of thrusts dawdled—but his cock stayed just as ample. Each revolution took longer and longer.
The tension was tantalizing.
His cockhead leaked; I savored the hint of his cream.
It mingled with the salty taste of his skin. I loved it; every succulent curve of his cock made me weaker as it leisurely slid by.
He halted with my lips around the head of his cock, and I suckled it.
"You crave it, don't you Holden? You want it deep inside."
"Mmmn."
"Fuckin' hell."
He slammed me down, hastening into a frenzy.
"Yeah, I know you like that."
He snarled; with each upstroke, I saw the silver light along his chest flash; with each downstroke, I felt his leg muscles tighten around my cheekbones. They were getting in the way. I couldn't take in the base of his cock, but he was so edgy he couldn't stop flexing.
Duke let out a dull roar; I thought he was close; instead, he threw me off of him.
I fell backwards, unable to catch myself. I wormed my way back to my knees. My lips felt puffy and raw. "I thought we weren't going to change positions," I croaked.
"I changed my mind. Get against the wall."
I crawled to the wall, swiveled, and thumped my back against it.
Duke strode over, his monster bouncing as he walked, then grabbed my head, making me look up into his eyes again. "I'm gonna fuck your face."
With one hand on each ear, he dragged my head up the wall till it was level with his protruding cock. Then, without prelude, he shoved it deep into my throat.
"Fuck yeah."
Somehow, he had little trouble getting his cock all the way in now.
Each thrust banged my head a bit; I was dizzy; I was numb.
He pinned me there, there was basically no space between the wall and his body--except my head.
"You're my cocksucker, and that's that."
I moaned as he pounded away.
Eventually, I felt his muscles twitch, and I knew he was perilously close.
"Fuck," he whimpered, his knees buckling, "Oh fuck."
He was unsteady; he lost his balance.
He stumbled backwards and lied back on the bed, closing his eyes. His cock stuck straight into the air, away from his body, and silver moonlight glimmered on the head, like a lighthouse gleaming in a storm.
It beckoned me.
I stood up. The straps tightened around my wrists as I moved, pulling them up against the small of my back. The broken umbrella hanging from my wrists dug into my ass cheeks a bit as I walked, and I half-closed one eye, trying vainly to wriggle free.
I gave up on it as soon as I reached the bedside.
I crawled into bed one knee at a time, losing my balance and falling sideways on my face. I leaned back, craning my neck up; then, I lowered my face around Duke's monster cock. It twitched deep in my throat and I moaned around it, getting sloppy again, drooling and slurping and sucking and smacking.
"Yeah, you really want that load, don't you?"
"Mmm."
Duke ran his hand through my hair as I bobbed up and down, humping the bed.
"You desperate to please me?"
"Mmn!"
Precum oozed out and it sent me into overdrive.
"No one turns you on like I do. No one even comes close."
"Nnn."
Duke gripped the back of my head.
"You're my bitch, Holden."
"Nnm!"
The surface of his cock was sloppy and wet and limber and syrupy--but most of all it was rough as he pounded away at my defeated throat.
"Forever.."
"Mmm."
"I'm on the edge, cocksucker. It's gonna be a big load. You up to the challenge?"
"Mmm!"
"Yeah, look at you, getting all worried I won't let you swallow it. Don't worry. That's your job."
He pulled me up so that just the head of his cock was in the mouth. Then he tilted my head, so I could see the glimmering, bulging muscles of his chest, and his strong face above me. He smiled—his pearly teeth glinted in the dark—his dimples stretched wide—his blue eyes, flecked with shadow, glimmered at me. He bit his tongue again, arching his back.
Then, his balls drew up; his cock convulsed; it almost wiggled out of my mouth. It was like a rogue garden house writhing about the yard when the dial is set too high.
I clamped my lips down, catching the spray straight in my mouth.
He drenched my tongue and throat with thick, sharp cum that ensnared my senses.
"Fuckin' hell, Holden," Duke said, stroking me again. "Damn, man."
Cum leaked out the corners of my lips as I tried to swallow it all. The pulsing seemed to go on for a minute as he drained himself inside me. When it was done, I burrowed around in Duke's skin, licking up whatever was left.
He rubbed the back of my neck fondly, but he was looking away now—his gaze focused on the city lights outside the window.
When I was satisfied he was clean, I crawled up Duke's body. I curled into him, resting my head on his chest. He kept stroking me as he stared outside.
"I love you, Duke."
His lips twitched. I waited a minute, but there was no answer coming.
"Did you hear what I said?" I asked.
"I heard you. It's just—you know I'm not cut out for that shit."
My lip trembled as he wrapped an arm around me.
"I think you are."
He got quiet again, and this time, I didn't prod him.
I just looked where he was looking: out the window, and into the city beyond. The window was mostly clear now, but there were a few water droplets that were trailblazers.
They streaked down the sill where there was no road, and yet, each one left a road behind it.
--- Almost at the end of the story now. :)
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