Break Away

by Van Barrett

  I took a seat on River's bed. Just holding his likeness was enough to make me hard. I turned on the bedside lamp. All of River's features, his most intimate details, were displayed in stunning clarity.

  “Damn,” I whimpered. He wasn't just well-endowed, he was also gorgeously sculpted. Saliva flooded my mouth. I liked a challenge.

  I kissed up and down his shaft. Just like I'd do to the real thing if given the chance. Ran my lips all over his tip. And, finally, sucked him down – imagining the pleasured grunts and groans he'd be making if this were really him standing erect before me.

  He was big, alright, big enough that I nearly felt sorry for Cass. If she didn't already have a deep-seated love of sucking cock, she never stood a chance at pleasing River.

  No. He was long and girthy. Blessed, or cursed, with a dick that only cock connoisseurs could possibly know how to love.

  Good thing I considered myself in that category, hm? His replica so utterly filled my mouth, my throat. I widened my jaw, desperate to take 'him' deeper. I could only imagine the sensation, the profound pleasure it'd give me to gag on the real thing – and to feel him suddenly stiffen in my mouth with his pounding, ball-emptying arousal. To feel every beat of his heart, as his cock ached deep inside my esophagus. To know that I was pleasing him in a way that no one had ever pleased him before.

  Ungh. Someday. Please just once.

  That's all I could tell myself. That's all I could hope, as I thrust the mold of River's cock in and out of my mouth.

  Slurp. Slurp sluuuuuurp.

  24

  Cornered.

  – River –

  I parked my bike at the stadium and met with the group of guys waiting patiently inside. We always meet up here, at the stadium, before a flight. A team bus will pick us up here, take us to the airport, and we'll fly out from there.

  I like to get here early – to give myself a little wiggle room – just in case something ever goes wrong. And to make sure all the others have their shit together, too.

  “Everybody got your wallets and IDs?” I asked the boys.

  “Yeah, yeah,” they grumble. It's Friday night. Some of the boys are a little surly about having to take that flight today. The game isn't until tomorrow night, after all – so flying out tonight cuts into their party time.

  … Which is exactly why Coach scheduled the flight one day early: to keep us out of trouble! Since we'll be staying at a hotel in New York, with a 10 PM curfew, we're much less likely to have any cases of the 'brown bag flu' tomorrow.

  Still, the boys aren't exactly thrilled about it.

  I patted my pocket, to make sure I had my wallet. A sudden jolt of panic coursed through my veins when I didn't feel that familiar bulge in my pocket.

  “Wait a minute.” I patted my pocket desperately, as if that might make my wallet appear. “Fuck!”

  “What's wrong, River?” Lettuce asked.

  “I … can't find my wallet! I think I left it at home! Fuck!”

  Elliott shrugged. “You still got time, bro. Go back and get it. You ain't boardin' that plane without it, that's for sure!”

  I checked my watch. I'd be cutting it close, but there was still time.

  “We won't fuckin' leave without you, Riv.” Jono grunted.

  “Sorry guys!” I backed away and trotted off. “I'll be back as soon as I can!”

  I sprinted outta the building and through the parking lot. Hopped on my bike, fired her up and roared off, breaking the speed limit to make better time.

  ***

  I tried the front door, but it was locked.

  Hm. Maybe Lane left already? I wondered. I could, after all, hear the Vivaldi blasting from the stereo. I smiled as I turned my key in the door lock.

  Lane's a good guy. Playing Vivaldi for Deke while he's out like I recommended.

  I was a little bummed, I guess, that Lane had already taken off – but I couldn't complain. I knew he had his own life, his own things to attend to. But something about him staying in my place while I'm out was a little comforting. Definitely more so than thinking about Cass staying there, that's for sure.

  I opened the door. There was Deke, passed out in his dog bed.

  And there was Lane's car keys – still on the kitchen counter.

  Huh? Maybe he just stepped out for a little?

  Whatever, I thought. I spotted my wallet on the counter and grabbed it. And just as I turned to rush back out, I spotted the sliver of light coming from beneath my bedroom door.

  Is he in there?

  I neared the door and listened.

  “Slurp. Sluuurp, sluuurp!”

  I staggered back – what the fuck was that noise in my bedroom? I knew what it sounded like but I refused to allow myself to believe that … no, no! That couldn't be the case!

  Just leave, River! a voice inside me reasoned. Even if he has his boyfriend in there, you don't have a right to get mad or jealous! You gave him permission to your room! That means stuff like this can happen!

  But still. My blood boiled. The thought of Lane with another guy in my bedroom. Hell no! They could go to his place! It didn't have to happen in my room! Whatever happened to decency?!

  I turned the knob and barged in, my teeth gritted, prepared for whatever I was about to see.

  The commotion frightened Lane. He jumped off my bed and scrambled to his feet. His arms immediately went behind his back.

  Standing in the doorway, I scanned the room left and right. Lane was in here … alone? But – but what about all that noise I'd just heard?

  “River!” Lane blurted out with a forced cheeriness. He sounded nervous. He was hiding something behind his back. “What're you doing back already?”

  “I forgot my wallet.” Slowly, I took a step after him. And so Lane retreated a step. This dance continued for every step I took. “What were you doing in here, Lane?”

  “N-nothing.”

  As I neared, I noticed a glossy shine around his mouth. His lips were wet. Smeared with saliva. Lane wiped his mouth dry with his fist.

  “Lane.” I continued to stalk him, and he was quickly running out of space. “What are you up to in here, Lane?”

  I looked around the room. That's when my eyes spotted the still-open sock drawer.

  “Oh God,” Lane whimpered softly.

  His back hit the wall. He'd run out of room. But a beast is most desperate when it's cornered – and Lane, in a sudden burst of speed and strength, tried to run right through me. He was fast and strong. But I'm a lot bigger. And a lot faster and stronger. I stuck my arm out and easily caught Lane around the waist and didn't let him go.

  “Fuck,” he panted.

  My hand lingered on his waist. Slowly, I backed him up against the wall. Nowhere else to go. Lane's breath was rapid and shallow. Frantic and nervous. His abs clenched and strained under my fingertips.

  “Shhh.” I tried to soothe him, my breath on his shoulder as I tried to peek behind his back. “I just wanna see what you have in your hand.”

  He shielded my view, pressing his back flat against the wall.

  “I can't. I can't! You're gonna kill me when you see it, River! Just stop! Go away!”

  “You don't know that.”

  “Yes I do!” he yawped. He dropped his shoulder and rammed into my chest, trying to break his way right through me. But I wouldn't be moved so easily.

  “Lane. Show me.”

  He shook his head. I grabbed his left arm and, after a struggle, pulled it out from behind him. Another struggle to make him unclench his tightly-balled fingers, only to reveal nothing. I looked up at him and smirked.

  “You're down to your last hand, Lane. I know it's back there. Show me.”

  He shook his head fiercely. He was too ashamed to show me on his own volition.

  “Fine. Have it your way.” I grabbed his right arm and tried to pry it out from behind him. But Lane resisted like his life depended on it. He fought with every ounce of strength he had. He threw wild jabs into my torso with h
is free hand. His fist deflected futilely off my chest. He changed tactics and threw uppercuts into my gut. But I simply flexed and his fist bounced harmlessly off my abs.

  I kept him pinned against that wall with my hand. I knew I could wait him out. Lane swung again and again, until he began to tire and grow frustrated. His tantrum waned, and the fight slowly left his body. His punches devolved into slaps. Soon, his half-hearted slaps faded into an open palm that merely lingered on my face. He explored my jaw, my chin with an agonized despair.

  “Lane,” I said, softly.

  His big eyes could scarcely meet mine. At least the look of fright had left him – and in its place was somber regret.

  “Lane.” I whispered again. “… You found my cock, didn't you, Lane?”

  He stared at his feet. He nodded shamefully. “Yes, god damn it. Yes.”

  I tried to hide my smirk. “Show me.”

  He met my gaze, his brow furrowed. With a deep sigh, he pulled his hand out from behind his back and limply thrust it towards me. There it was. The mold of my cock.

  I grabbed Lane by the wrist and made him hold it up. In the light. It was wet. Dripping wet. Saliva ran down it, dribbled down the base and trickled off Lane's fingers.

  “Oh.” I swallowed. The sight made a current ripple through my belly and lower, through my crotch. “Damn, Lane.”

  He nodded. “I'm sorry … I … God … I'm so sorry. I don't have an excuse.”

  Once more Lane dropped his head and stared at his feet. I took the dildo from his hands.

  “You're so busted, man.”

  “Sorry … sorry …” all he could do was repeat his apology with barely a whisper.

  I took my dildo and lightly slapped him across the right cheek. The wet silicone made a soft smack against his embarrassed, rosy cheeks. “You were suckin' on it, weren't you.”

  He nodded.

  Suppressing a grin, I slapped the dildo on his other cheek. “Busted. You're so busted.”

  “I'm curious though, Lane.” I set the tip of the dildo at the bottom of his chin and lifted his gaze. “Did you like it?”

  Aghast, his eyes met mine. He let out a breathy gasp. He swallowed so loudly, it sounded painful.

  “Did you, Lane?” With bated breath, I stared. I watched intently as I rimmed the tip of that dildo – my cock! – around Lane's mouth. His mouth parted, like blossoming petals. I plied them open further and rubbed my silicone manhood along his smooth, pink lips.

  It wasn't hard to imagine myself in the toy's place. My cock, the flesh one, quickly filled my athletic tights with a log-like bulge.

  “Did you like sucking it, Lane?”

  “Yes,” he finally admitted, his eyes now twinkling with a seductive innocence. He wrapped his tongue around the dildo's head. He slowly slithered his tongue around the head, and slathered it with tongue lashings. I knew he was putting on a show, that he'd meant to tease me. “I did, River. Very much.”

  I gulped. “Could you take it all?”

  He moaned with a smirk. “Why don't you see for yourself.”

  Lane stuck his tongue out, flat and broad, and offered me an entry. His sultry eyes beckoned me. With a meager grunt, I set the dildo atop his tongue and gently pushed. It slid across the surface of his tongue, going deeper. I groaned with awe and deepening lust as my likeness disappeared in his mouth.

  “Holy shit,” I panted. “Lane.”

  His hands – one plastered to my chest, the other on my straining abs – trailed lower. He moved so slowly, so lightly, my tingling skin screamed for his whole touch. Lower his hands went, down my obliques. My cock pounded, pulsing like a beacon, begging, no, dying for his touch.

  Cruelly, Lane's hands inched ever so close to my package – only to trace right around the solid protrusion. When he passed me by, my neglected cock heaved with abandonment, and I let out a pained whimper. Lane liked that. Delighting in my agony, his mouth curled with pleasure.

  “You want this, don't you, River?”

  Again I grunted and groaned, at a loss for words.

  Lane's hands slid up the inside of my thigh. This time, he gave me what I wanted. His finger-tips lightly brushed up and down my cock. His light touch just grazed my swollen, thumping member – and had me awash in waves of throbbing ecstasy.

  Slowly, I stepped backward. My turn to retreat. Whatever Lane had, it was powerful, seductive … and I knew if I wasn't careful, I could lose myself in it.

  “You want me to suck you off. Don't you, River?”

  “I, I …” I panted helplessly. Lane stalked me, certain that it was his turn to break me, as I had broken him a minute ago.

  Nowhere left to go: the back of my knees hit the mattress. I stumbled backward and my butt landed on the bed.

  Lane bit his lip and dropped to his knees.

  “It's time for you to find out what you've been missing.” His gaze seared into my bulging crotch. He licked his lips. “I'll show you how much a man loves to suck your dick, River.”

  My chest rose and fell with my rapid breath. I was helpless to do anything but stare as Lane hooked his fingers under my waistband and pulled.

  Oh my God. This is really happening!

  25

  Bliss

  – River –

  I don't know what happened next. No, that's not true – I know exactly what happened. It just doesn't make any sense.

  Everything ceased to exist in that moment – everything but me and Lane. And oh, he took his time with me. He wanted to break me. He wanted to show me exactly the pleasures a man was capable of giving. He wanted to make sure I never went crawling back to any mere woman.

  At least, that's how I'd describe it.

  His fingers burrowed under my waist-band. In one fell swoop, he yanked off my athletic pants and boxer-briefs, too. My cock, harder than I've ever seen it in my life, sprang out and stood tall. It throbbed proudly in the open air, a wet, glistening bead of pre-cum sitting atop it like a shining crown of glory.

  Pre-cum. Already.

  “I … I …” I don't know why I still tried to speak. Only whimpers would come out. Even if I could talk, I'm not sure what I'd say.

  Would I beg him to stop? Doubt it. That was the last thing on my mind.

  He looked intoxicated. Under my masculine influence, his eyes lazily ticked up and down my length. He obsessed over my every inch, every vein, every last detail. Like he was committing it to memory. His breath was short and heavy, and I felt the humid puffs of his breath against my sweltering manhood. A nice contrast to the cool room.

  I wanted his mouth. So bad. My cock jumped with the rhythm of my heart, lurching pathetically for the wet and warm sanctity of his mouth. That was a little embarrassing, maybe, for me – to see how fast he'd broken me down. And how bad I wanted him. But at least it brought a smile to his face.

  It'd be too easy, though, to just wrap his cheeks around me and suck. I knew that. Lane wanted to break me, after all. He wanted me to suffer.

  He lifted my balls with his cupped hand. Lowering his face to my perineum, he set his tongue just above the rim of my ass. It felt so good but so forbidden – everything I'd ever known about being a man told me I wasn't supposed to enjoy things being that close to my ass. Especially tongues. So, reflexively, I gasped and squeezed myself shut.

  But tonguing my ass wasn't what he'd planned for me, anyway. Instead, he made the tip of his tongue into a point and dragged it, slowly, tortuously, up the line that splits any man in half.

  I had no idea it could be so – so pleasurable – down there. Before Lane, that area of my body was completely unexplored, pure and virgin.

  I let out a loud and startled yelp of equal parts shock and pleasure. I'm sure the neighbors had heard it if they were home, but I didn't care. Lane stifled his amused laughter and focused on his task as he set his tongue above my ass and did it all over again.

  And again. And again. And again. Until he'd made my cock swollen, bloated, hard as steel. My hips quaked.

/>   “Please, please …!” I begged him.

  Lane licked higher. His tongue crawled up the middle of my round, tight scrotum. Ready to spill my seed, my balls had already raised.

  And as much as I was pleading with him to give me the pleasures of his mouth? Part of me just wanted the permission to cum. Because I could stave the inevitable off for only so long. The pressure of my load was already mounting higher.

  I locked my eyes on him, begging for mercy. Spare me the dignity of cumming prematurely, Lane!Don't make me cum before you've even given me your mouth!

  But he'd only look up at me, his eyes wrinkled up at the corner, as he locked his lips around my testicle and sucked it. Hard.

  “Oh God, Lane!” I squirmed, wrestling with my climax.

  Don't don't don't! I tried to command my body to get in line. Don't blow just yet! Don't be that pathetic!

  Finally … finally … with a steady stream of pre-cum leaking from my tip, Lane took mercy on me. He slurped the pre-cum off my shaft, sucked the rest off my glans, and at last … gave me what I needed.

  He locked his lips around my manhood and pushed. One smooth movement. All the way down. My girth disappeared between his lips.

  “Holy fuck,” I panted, leaning back on my elbows and watching him closely.

  And I basked in all the sights and sounds and pleasures. Lane's muffled moans of delight as he pushed me deeper. The slurping and sucking noises made by that tightly-locked seal of his lips. The confident, cocky glint in his eyes when he glanced up to catch my dumbfounded gaze. The way he dug his nails into my chest and dragged his claws down my waist, leaving raised lines of red in my skin.

  Mesmerized, I was helpless but to lean back and take all this in. He made it look so easy. It was so effortless. But no, it wasn't just that, though. It was the way he did it. He wanted to do it. More than that, he loved to do it.

  It was an act that, with Cass, I'd come to associate with arguments and petty squabbles. The rare times she granted me the favor, she made it clear that it was so unwanted, I wasn't meant to enjoy it. Wanting oral was a burden for me. I almost hated myself for wanting it. I wished I didn't, because all it did was cause disharmony between us.