Part VI
The weekend was upon me, but for the first time in a long time, I felt no desire to escape.
I didn't want to go home, or to visit Joey.
My mind wandered to the night before, how Duke had tied me up—with the straps of an umbrella, of all things. He was resourceful, that's for sure.
Luckily, I only had one class on Friday, and this time, there were no lightning bugs to clean up.
I got out of class and library hours unscathed. Fog and icy wind rolled in. I wrapped my arms around myself as I clopped my way across the bricks, past the old buildings and the dining common.
It was unusual for me to still be on campus at this point on a Friday. I was usually boxed up in the subway, being sent along idly, like a wrapped present.
Thus I had never seen this group of people outside the dining commons before waving around a variety of signs:
<Organic Friday!>
<I am not an Experiment!>
I walked past, breathing in the musty smell of a hippie gathering.
Someone walked up to me with a clipboard.
"Can you sign this petition to serve green food at the dining commons?"
I read their talking points, and decided begrudgingly that they weren't totally misguided.
"Fine," I sighed.
The conversation with Victoria played in my mind as I walked up the steps toward the dorms. Part of me felt a little cynical about it all—yesterday, I could have a conversation with no real action, and today, it seemed to me, people were attempting action without a real conversation.
It was just a lot of yelling and noise.
Then, someone caught my attention.
He held a sign that read:
<Get your government hands off my corndogs!>
"Is that the best you could come up with?" I asked. "That doesn't even make sense."
Duke beamed at me.
"It catches the eyes, right?"
I blinked, soaking in the moment. Duke stood, clad in tight green work-out shorts that showed off his quadriceps. He wore a white tank top plastered with an oversized image of planet Earth. His thick arms trunked out, flexing.
I felt the scent of him hit me, but something was different.
I ground my teeth and focused.
Not in front of everyone.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"Protesting. I've been here the last couple Fridays, but you're always gone by now."
I nodded, starting to turn away. "I—should go do homework."
He stole a glance at me, and I couldn't be quite sure, but I worried that he had noticed my hardening dick. He looked me over, up and down. "Have fun with that," he said. He bobbed his head at me and his eyes twinkled.
I strode quickly away.
It wasn't long till I was struggling with my lock, trying to clear my mind.
When I got inside my room, I grimaced, staring at the open umbrella lying on my bed. Flecks of water had sunk into my sheets around it.
I folded it up and put it away, shaking my head. Duke had woken up really early that morning to go to the gym, kicking me out before anyone else in our hall was awake. I took refuge in the library for a while, but I was still wearing yesterday's clothes.
Part of me wanted to be offended and stubborn—to make a stand till I saw a change--while another part of me was starting to make peace with Duke just the way he was.
I stripped down, letting myself collapse backwards onto my bed.
I spread out my limbs and sighed, grabbing the plastic cup off the nightstand. The string had been cut a few weeks back, but it was fun to pretend.
I put it over my mouth, closed my eyes, and whispered into it.
"Make me your bitch."
My dick was hard now, pointing up at the air. I stroked it softly.
I put the cup back on the nightstand and grabbed Duke's jeans. I draped them over my face and rubbed harder. The feel of my dick in my palm, while not quite as exciting to me as touching my Manpike, still made sparks jump through me. The smell of Duke, mixed in with my old cum, closed in on me.
"Duke."
His voice echoed in my mind as I whispered his name.
"I get you off, boy...you are my fuckin' boyhole, bitch."
"Fuck, Duke."
I bucked into my palm, but at that moment, I could hear the door rattle, and I looked around, jolted to my senses.
There was pounding on the door.
I gathered myself, wrapped a towel around me, and inched the door open.
Duke stood outside, running his teeth over the corner of his bottom lip.
It felt so sudden and out of place, having Duke on my doorstep, after our interactions had been so disjointed for so long.
Not to mention my jostling memories.
"That was a quick protest," I mumbled.
"You would know," Duke said. He shoved me deeper into my room and I stumbled backwards, dropping the towel down to the floor. Then, he stepped inside, swung the door shut behind him, and kicked off his shoes. "You were boning up just looking at me out there."
I looked down at the floor.
Duke grabbed the back of my head and tilted it up, making me look into his eyes. He slid his tongue over his own lip and bit it softly.
Then he grabbed my dick.
"You can't control yourself around me, can you?"
He pushed me and I fell back on my bed.
I felt like I had just run a mile. I tried to catch my breath.
"Staying quiet, are you?" Duke asked. He sat down next to me, and then pushed on my chest, pinning me down.
I pushed my feet against him playfully.
Duke swung my legs onto the bed, swiveling, and then pinned them down with his thighs. He grabbed my arms and held them over my head. His face was so close to mine.
I scraped my lip with my teeth and closed my eyes.
His lips found my ear a moment later. "My ol' jeans are on your bed. What's that about?"
"They help me sleep."
He reached down and grabbed my dick again, stroking it twice.
"You weren't sleeping when I knocked though, were you?"
I shook my head.
"What were you doing?"
"Jacking off," I said softly.
"And what were you thinking about?"
I tried to look him in the eyes. "I was thinking about you, Duke."
"Yeah?" He ran his hand through my hair. When he moved, I could smell his sweat, devoid of artifice. I shivered.
"Elaborate for me," he said.
"I was thinking about you--inside me."
"I don't fuck dudes, Holden."
"You fucked my face, didn't you?"
He rolled off of me and lay down beside me. We looked at the ceiling for a moment.
Then, I curled on top of him, straddling his thick thighs.
I was butt-naked, but he was still fully clothed. It made me feel vulnerable.
I grazed the picture of the Earth on his shirt, rolling my eyes. "Do you even care about that stuff?"
"Wanna know the real reason I joined the protest?"
"You mean there's a reason besides, `girls dig it'?"
"Sort of. The Organic Friday manifesto involves giving up synthetic products on protest day. It's a bunch of dirty hippies, basically. I just rinsed myself in the shower this morning—no soap, no bodywash, no aftershave, no shampoo, no deodorant. Just me. You see, Holden?"
He pulled off his shirt and I was flooded with the smell of him.
I sunk into his chest and he stroked my hair.
"You like my smell—it's hot right? But people know they are not supposed to like that, and so they pretend that they don't."
"So--do you like Organic Fridays?"
"I like raw sex. But I'm not supposed to like that, so I pretend that I prefer all that chemical shit. Only by wearing a bunch of chemicals can I impress the people that pretend that they prefer it but actually prefer my natural smell. It's all about letting everyone save face."
I shook my head.
"So—do Organic Fridays ruin that setup?" I asked.
"Not at all. They let me pretend that I am pretending to like being natural. Then I can pretend I care about the people pretending they prefer me to pretend most of the time."
"I don't understand," I said.
"Exactly."
"Couldn't we just stop pretending?" I asked.
"Only if we were crazy."
Duke cupped the back of my head and pulled it into his chest.
Shimmering sweat filled the canals between his abdominal muscles. My lip caught on them as Duke dragged my head around.
I lulled my tongue out and licked, tasting his natural spice.
My head and hands rolled up his steep pectorals. I buried my head between them and inhaled. I chuckled and lapped. My tongue roamed over to his left nipple, which I engulfed.
Duke flexed his pectorals.
"You like my body, don't you boy?"
I ran my hand over the tightening, toned muscles until my fingertips glinted. Then, I slurped on him, my spit marking his skin with shiny rings.
"Mmmm," Duke moaned.
I closed my eyes and inhaled, taking in his masculine scent. I could smell his ripe pits from here—salty and wild. My eyes bolted open and I backed away.
"Fuck," I whispered.
"What?" Duke asked, his blue eyes glinting.
"It's just—you--is all."
Duke flexed his biceps, stretching his arms out and pretending to yawn.
I smiled and shook my head.
I ran my hand over his expansive skin. Then I dragged my tongue around his arms, coating them with glistening bands.
"Mmmm," Duke moaned. "So what were you waiting for?"
I closed my eyes, inhaled, and raised his arm up.
I nuzzled closer to his pit, like the first time I tentatively rubbed my face against his nuts.
Slowly, I breathed him in.
Then, meekly, I stretched my tongue out and grazed his wet skin.
This time, it was like lightning.
I buried my face in his armpit--and lapped. I sucked his pit sweat into me. It was musky and so salty. I ran my tongue slowly up and down his pit, collecting it all, and swallowing. I moaned. Finally, I tasted the real Duke. I was so hard.
"God I want you," I whispered.
"Fuck yeah," Duke moaned. "You like drinking my pit sweat down? You like tasting me?"
I inhaled and my eyes rolled back.
"God yes," I whimpered. "I want to taste all of you. The real you. That's all I ever wanted."
"You are such a fucking cocksucker," Duke said, grinning from ear to ear. He grabbed my head and dragged it down his sweaty, warm chest. My face pressed into the indentations of his muscles, which flexed around me.
I opened my mouth, closed my eyes, and basked in him.
He forced my head into his crotch and tightened his vice grip. I didn't resist this time.
I chewed on the tight green fabric, drenching it, exposing the perfect contour of his cock.
I kissed it, smacking my lips.
"Yeah, you love my big cock, don't you, boyhole?"
I nodded, nibbling on the fabric around it softly.
Duke pushed his shorts down slowly. He wasn't wearing anything underneath.
His cock flipped up, and a few beads of precum flecked my face. His balls flopped out. The skin-tight green shorts bunched around his thighs. They were stretched so tight I didn't know how he ever got them on in the first place.
"Suck my balls."
I drew one orb into my mouth, then the other.
"Yeah, that's good," Duke sighed. His cock grazed my face as I dragged my tongue around.
The taste was fresh and meaty and real.
I looked up into Duke's eyes, still slurping on his balls.
"Bitch," he said, smirking. He mussed up my hair. He let his hand linger there, gripping the back of my skull.
I reached my hands up and rubbed Duke's chest.
"You want to suck my cock, don't you boy?"
I nodded around his balls. He pushed my face into his pubic hair, grinding it around.
"I'll let you know when you can have it."
I swirled my tongue around his balls over and over and over.
The true taste of Duke never got old.
I started humping the bed.
"Getting off on my ball sweat?" Duke said.
I whimpered.
Duke let out a slow, rolling, rising growl.
"Suck my cock, boyhole."
He pulled my head up till it was higher than the tip of his cock. I dragged myself toward him and craned my neck. My eyes widened, taking in the path ahead.
"Open up," he said.
I licked my lips and held them wide.
Duke shoved my head down.
Slowly but surely, more and more of his cock clambered inside.
Inch, after inch, after inch.
My mouth stretched wide open. I looked up at Duke's smug, porcelain smile.
"You love this, don't you?"
He was right.
I loved everything about it.
He pressed his knee into my balls as his cock stretched out my face.
"You get off on this, don't you fag? You get off on being my cock-suckin' pit-lickin' bitch."
I was choking on his cock; he wouldn't let me come up for air; my eyes bulged wide.
He stretched out my throat with a series of vicious thrusts.
"C'mon, boyhole. Gag on my fuckstick."
I lost control. I shot string after string of cum into my sheets, moaning hard around Duke's cock.
I felt a little guilty I had come so quickly—and worried he would be mad.
I became acutely aware of my need for air.
I wriggled away from Duke, a slab of his cock sliding slowly from my throat. I was trying to steal a breath, but he grabbed the back of my head and pushed me down.
"You aren't done, boyhole."
I acquiesced, tightening my lips around his cock, swirled my tongue—and slurped deep.
I drew his shaft deep inside me, feeding on it.
Images of the Popsicles Duke had given me flashed in my mind, and I sucked harder, going light-headed from deprivation and aftershock.
"Yeah, boy," he said, gripping my skull and jacking his cock in and out of my mouth. He impaled my throat with his monster, and ground his sweaty crotch against my face. "God, you give head so much better than my bitch back home."
What?
I froze, lifeless, as he hammered my throat again, again, and again.
Dread coursed through me. With Duke's cavalier attitude, I couldn't be sure of much of anything about him. He always made damn sure I knew I wasn't his boyfriend; yet, still, however he thought of me, there were some things that I wouldn't and couldn't be.
I felt his balls slapping against my chin, shedding beads of sweat there, which clung to me before rolling down my neck. His abdominals clamped around my eyebrows upon impact, and I closed my eyes to avoid the stinging sweat, too overwhelmed to do anything, too overwhelmed to really think.
"Fuck yeah," he growled.
One...two...three more thrusts inside and he buried his monster to the hilt. I could feel the massive shaft pulsing, stretching out my face, as he prepared for release.
Then, he grunted, jerking around, as thick waves of cum flooded deep inside, one after another after another.
I swallowed automatically.
He cradled my head in his hand, but I he must have known something was wrong, since I wasn't sucking his cock anymore.
"Okay," he muttered, pulling out of my face and slapping my ass. "I should get back to the protest. You looked like you needed that, and I had a load to spare." He chuckled. "My balls churn out swimmers faster than I can unload them. One of these days I'm gonna have you suck my cock all day long, swallowing load after load until I remember what it feels like to not be horny."
"Duke," I said, my throat raspy. "What do you mean, bitch back home?"
"You know. A booty call. A girl that's not too serious, who is just along for the ride. She even gets kind of kinky, like the time my best friend and I—"
"That's too much information, Duke." I sighed, rolling over and looking at the ceiling again. Duke, for once, was wise enough not to fill the silence first. Eventually, I cleared my throat. "How do you think she would feel about me? About us? For all you know, she was just hoping that given enough time, you would fall for her; you know, maybe she was giving you space so you could `catch up' and like her as much as she liked you."
"She's not my girlfriend, Holden. She's more like—"
"Your girl-hole?"
"Don't be like that. I'm just saying she doesn't mind. We agreed to fuck around. She knows I'm not going to get into anything serious, so you have nothing to worry about, okay?" Duke threw on his tank top and started to pull up his tight green shorts. "I'm gonna get back to protesting."
I didn't say anything as he left. I found myself wandering in the hallway a minute later, ducking into the bathroom to get some water and look into the mirror.
I covered my face with my hands.
What had I become? And why did I feel like this?
This shouldn't have even been a surprise. Duke talked about trying to hook up with girls all the time. He just seemed so incompetent at flirting that I couldn't take it seriously.
And I guess part of me hoped that because he had me—he would just forget about everyone else.
I tried to catch my breath, but it was as though someone had knocked it out of me.
Everything was blurry; I was dizzy.
My flickering gaze halted on the bucket of things. I rifled through it, finding an old cylindrical sponge, and walking back to my room.
Maybe I was neurotic; maybe I was crazy, but I felt the sudden urge to push Duke away from me—to keep myself safe from whatever he was, from whatever mystery he was perpetuating.
I coated the spongy cylinder in glue and crammed it into the hole in the wall, sealing it off.
Joey was right. I should have gotten it fixed a long, long time ago.
Duke—what exactly did I see in him? It was hard to pin down.
In some ways, he didn't really have a personality. Maybe beneath all the pretending, I didn't really know him at all.
I grabbed his jeans from the edge of the bed, the ones he had given me the first time—
I tried not to cry, but still, I felt the intensity boiling at the edges of my eyes. I crumpled the jeans into a ball and threw them into the closet, where they collapsed into a shadowy corner.
I wasn't his boyfriend. What if Duke never even cared about me at all? I tried to calm myself, to call into question if and why I cared. He was a rebound guy, right? Maybe it was time to bounce.
I closed my eyes and watched the silver lines dance across my eyelids, seeming to taunt me as they traveled in little rings.
And suddenly, I missed the choking diorama that was high school. It was insulated. It was safe. In the vacuum of adolescence, I was much better at pretending that my problems made sense, and that I could work through them.
Now, I worried there was no end in sight—like looking at the pit in front of a subway car.
Maybe I would be a fool forever.
--- I always like to get feedback: krazytop@gmail.com Or reach me on tumbr: http://krazytop.tumblr.com/