At least, I’m happy. I’m so fucking happy my head is spinning. I catch myself smiling into the camera during my video conference with the Youth Theatre director, where I eat humble pie over my late delivery of their new budgeting package. I laugh. Fuck my life. He’s a nice dude to deal with, and I must give him credit for taking it well. I bloody discounted everything so I have probably barely made a profit on that job, but whatever. Happy client. Happy fucking me.
I have also had a shower and cleaned myself up, and then. Fuck. I googled all this stuff about enemas and cleaning yourself and prepping for anal sex and then I blushed in shame because I didn’t do any of that and maybe. Fuck. I don’t want to think about it. Maybe I was all dirty and smelly and Louis fucked me, and I really liked it.
It’s kind of strange to think back at that, but I did. It made me, I don’t know. I let loose. I never let loose, but somehow, he makes me feel safe and I fucking lose the plot. And the strangest thing is that I can’t wait to do it again. I want him to make me lose it again. I want him to just be there with his hands and his mouth and his eyes all on me and that bloody mouth on him. Yeah. That’s my body shivering all over, and for a second I contemplate going for a quick cheeky wank to just take some pressure off. Well, that great plan is swiftly interrupted by Jonas and Clara who awkwardly sit on my sofa sharing their Espresso House haul, covering my sofa in chocolate crumbs for half an hour, as I say nothing, and Jonas just laughs.
Louis is late, doing something with his parents again, and I kind of want to scream. Instead I punish myself by googling Naturism. Nudism. Nudies. Naked orgies.
Which is not a thing. I know that. I still read up on it all. Blog after blog. What do you do if your partner is a naturist? Nothing apparently. People live happily ever after with one partner being naked and the other not. Some people become naturists too? Fuck that. Parties? Meeting the parents? There are links to naturists, who apparently care about nature, are strict vegetarians, sometimes don’t drink or smoke, and yeah, are all into nature and shit. There are nudists who just want to be naked, like all the time. And nobody has sex. It’s not about sex. Yeah. I get that part.
There are nudist holidays. Nudist beaches. Nudist camps. Nudist cruises. Naturist getaways. Naturist conferences. Photos of three hundred naked people on the steps of the Sydney Opera House.
I slam the laptop shut and panic. I’m not proud of myself.
PONTUS: What if I don’t want to be a naturist and just want to wear clothes and eat steak and be all fucking normal? How is that going work Louis?
LOUIS: STOP GOOGLING SHIT.
I should stop googling. That’s a good start.
PONTUS: I want to wear clothes. And sometimes be naked. Like in bed, with you. How is that going to work? I don’t want to meet your naked parents.
PONTUS: I mean of course, I will meet your parents one day, but I kind of don’t want to stare at their bits. Do you see what I mean? Fuck. I sound like a spoilt dork. I can’t cope with this.
LOUIS: Calm the fuck down baby. I’ll bring you home to meet Mum and Dad one day, and they will be clothed, I promise. We are totally normal people, and they will adore you. Mum and Dad are vegan, and they are both great cooks. We’ll eat like kings, and I will buy you a greasy burger on the way home. How’s that?
PONTUS: You are not normal, Louis. You are a total weirdo, and you know it. I love you, but I don't know shit about all this stuff.
LOUIS: Shall I give you the quick lowdown on being a good old honest naturist? Would that calm you down?
PONTUS: Yeah. Maybe?
LOUIS: OK. Chill. Mum and Dad have ideals and theories about life and things they believe in. Like normal people. Save the whales. Clean the beaches. Don't use plastic bags. Recycle. Don’t eat meat. Be good people. Be kind. Look after your body and be mindful. Stuff like that.
LOUIS: They also like the idea of going back to nature, back to basics, and simply, they are comfortable in their own skin. You can just relax when you are naked, because you can’t hide. It’s just you. But that is Mum and Dad. OK?
LOUIS: Me? I just fucking hate clothes. So would you if you had grown up running riot in fields stark naked. It’s much more fun. I was home-schooled until I was 12, and had never even owned a pair of jeans before I started high school. Stick a bunch of restrictive clothes on me and I get all self-conscious and weird. I also really like doing Yoga, and I like hanging out with Mum when she teaches her classes. It’s just a thing. We might as well be doing a book club or knitting or whatever. Mum just happens to teach a load of naked classes for people like me who just don’t like to wear clothes. Does that explain it?
PONTUS: It’s weird as fuck.
PONTUS: So, what’s a nudist then?
LOUIS: Naturists are all about back to nature and have agendas and views and shit. Nudists just want to be naked. Not much of a difference. Same kind of thing really. Everyone is all nice and kind about it. Another thing, naturists and nudists and whatever don’t like to use phones and tablets and things around other people, and it’s kind of seen as rude. You know. Cameras. It’s just a thing. People just leave them in their bags. OK? It’s not weird, but just leave your phone in your pocket if you meet someone… like if we go home and my parents are naked. Just... You know.
PONTUS: You said they would be dressed.
LOUIS: THEY WILL BE DRESSED WHEN YOU MEET THEM
LOUIS: Please chill. I will just take you home, we will say hi, have a cup of tea and then we will eat some nice food and I will talk constantly so you don’t have to. OK?
PONTUS: You’re a dick.
LOUIS: I know. I have one too.
PONTUS: When are you coming home?
PONTUS: I mean, when are you coming here?
PONTUS: You are coming over?
LOUIS: Chill. Just sorting out a few things, and I will be with you. I have cooked with Mum, and have loads of food to deliver, then I will be with you. We are fucking later. I haven’t forgotten.
PONTUS: Good.
LOUIS: It will be. Good.
PONTUS: Good.
LOUIS: Great.
PONTUS: Just fuck off.
PONTUS: You are driving me crazy.
PONTUS: How do you know you are lactose intolerant then? If you are all vegan? I just don’t get it. I don’t get you. Full stop.
LOUIS: Told you, I grew up on a dairy farm. Let me tell you a cute story. My grandma came to Denmark when she was 18, and got a job as a farm hand. She had come over from Chile to work, and was really bossy and determined so the farm was going well and the owners liked her, so when they retired, she bought the place. Anyway, she employed lots of farm workers, and she employed this new dude, to muck out the barns. She went to check up on him on his first day and he had almost finished the first barn, shovelling muck stark naked. She screamed at him, and he apparently screamed back. In Spanish. They married a year later and she became a naturist too. He was one, by the way, he loved animals. He loved my grandma and he loved that farm. My grandpa is the best.
PONTUS: Cute story, but has nothing to do with you being lactose intolerant.
LOUIS: Stop being so grumpy. It was a dairy farm. We lived off bloody milk. I was constantly sick and then I got tested and Mum made us all go vegan, and it made a huge difference.
PONTUS: Okay?
LOUIS: It’s fine. I don’t mind. I like being vegan, but you can eat whatever you want. I will still kiss your dirty mouth. And fuck you.
PONTUS: Fuck you too.
PONTUS: Just come over.
LOUIS: I will be there as soon as I can.
PONTUS: Did you really use to run around in the grass naked? Instead of going to school?
LOUIS: Yeah, we lived on the farm until my grandparents retired, and sold it. There is no future in small farming anymore. It was an amazing place, my sister and I just all ran around naked there all day. Then I went for my first sleepover at Jonas’ house, I was probably about 6? His mum tried to get me to wear pyjamas to bed and I screamed
like she was trying to axe murder me. She never tried that again. I still hear about it every time I go to Jonas’ house, how I almost had her arrested when the neighbours called the police.
PONTUS: That’s kind of hardcore.
LOUIS: I know.
PONTUS: But what about in Winter? Snow?
LOUIS: We’re not Neanderthals you know, we wear clothes in winter. Outside, especially with rain and snow. Dude. We live in Denmark. The civilised world and all that.
PONTUS: I know. I’m an idiot.
LOUIS: Stop texting me. I need go get stuff done so I can come and get naked with you.
PONTUS: I will be a nudist then. In bed only. Will that work?
LOUIS: You can be whatever you want to be, baby. I don’t want you to be anything else than what you are. You are you.
PONTUS: It’s still weird. All this.
LOUIS: I know.
PONTUS: The bruise on my head is almost gone. It’s just a little bit of yellow bruising now.
LOUIS: Stop texting me.
PONTUS: Can’t help it. I think I miss you.
LOUIS: I miss you too.
PONTUS: (love heart)
LOUIS: (Kiss emoji)
Chapter Fourteen
Pontus
The pain is not nice. I should be used to it after a month of this constant sex thing we have going on. The pain. Not good. It never is, and that’s one of the reasons I used to stick to blowjobs. I hate this. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know, everyone goes on about sex and how fucking awesome it is, but try it yourself, having someone shove a six-inch dick up your back passage when you are flat on your stomach with an almost two meter tall hot dude pushing you down on the bed. Yeah, and sticking his big thick fat cock inside of you. We have tried to give each other a break from the bottoming, but at the end of the day, whatever we do, we somehow end up back here.
I like the idea of the big fat cock. Louis’ cock is gorgeous, and when he’s hard it’s like all my wet pornographic thrills have come true, all at once. I love sucking him into my mouth, just one small centimetre at a time, teasing him with my tongue and then sliding off and kissing his balls as he whines like a baby up there where his head is. I love all that. I love kissing him, and just lying there with him exploring my body with his mouth, sucking on my nipples, and bruising my chest, my hips, my groin. Mmmm. Love that. I kind of get a little pulse in my dick just thinking of it. Not enough to get me hard again, because trust me, right now I am anything but hard as Louis pushes a little bit further inside me and I make a sound like I am moaning, when in reality I am kind of internally screaming to get that beast of a dick out of my arse and stop the damn stinging pain, and I hope I am not bleeding because that would be fucking unattractive and if Louis sees it he will stop and it will all be over and that would be fucking awkward after all the foreplay he’s put me through.
Yeah. Because, believe it or not, five minutes ago I was seriously shaking my butt at him begging him to fuck my brains out. Yeah. That was me. And now I kind of regret it.
But not. And Ahhhrhhrhghtrhtht. Fuck. He’s almost all the way in and my legs are crazy-spasming and Louis is kissing little butterflies into my neck, and tangling his fingers in my neck hairs making my whole body shiver.
“I love you, baby. You are so fucking brave and beautiful. I know it hurts. I know it’s not nice, but just relax baby. Let me look after you. Just let your hole relax for me, okay?”
Easier said than done when you have like a whole fucking cock up there. And there he goes. One foul jerk and I can feel him against my skin. Pushing a little further, but no, he’s in. All the way.
“Huuur… Ah… Mm”
That’s me. And I am sweating, little drips falling down my forehead, and my arse spasms with the intrusion, and yeah. You read in all those posts, the ones giving you all the top tips on anal sex. They always say to just relax. Let your muscles relax. Then it gets good.
The thing is, I know it will get good. I know in a few minutes Louis will have me hard as a rock and I will be begging him to go faster and harder, but for now my mouth lets out another low whine and I can feel tears at the corner of my eyes, and fuck.
I bet it’s not like this for bloody girls. I bet it doesn’t sting like hell and feel like your body is about to be split right fucking open.
“You’re… big.” I pant. “So freaking big, baby.”
At least I’m able to speak. That’s a good sign.
“Love you.” He mumbles. His voice is barely there, and for a moment I remind myself of what it’s like fucking him. When I sink into him and he squirms and swears like the worst kind of gangster dude in those movies. When he tenses up like a coil, and I massage his back, kiss his shoulders. Tug at his hair trying to get to his mouth, only to find his face scrunched up like he’s in pain, when he keeps on reassuring me that he is not. He just needs a moment. A little second. Just a little while more. Just stay still and hold me.
It’s fantastic when you are on the top. When your dick sinks into that tight warm hole and his whole body tries to squeeze the fuck out of your dick, the muscles pushing at you, and you push even further in and get rewarded with even more heat. More pressure. More fucking awesomeness.
I try to remember that, when Louis pulls out and pushes back in with a forceful thrust of his hips.
I roar. Because. Yeah. It’s weird. Kind of stabbing your insides with a big blunt weapon.
But it’s also kind of warm. Friction in all the right places.
“More.” My mouth says, at the same time as my brain screams for the emergency brakes.
So, he does. Pulls out and slams back down, me flat on my stomach and Louis doing some kind of fucked-up planking with his dick dipping in and out of my arse, and my traitorous legs are spreading, my arse sticking up as much as I can muster, giving my own cock space to start filling up.
Because even though I am still not fully on board with this being fun, my dick is apparently back in the game as Louis angles himself a little, and gives my prostate a full-on sliding kiss of death.
Well. Hello prostate. My mouth roars. My dick bounces and my hips slam up to meet his cock on the next thrust as he starts to moan. Long drawn out noises and I kind of join in with the sounds and slutty noises. Not that I can control what’s coming out of my mouth, because here we go. I’m now officially doing the porny stuff.
“Fuck me!” I shout. “Harder, Louis. You know I can take it. Just fucking pound me.”
Charming. Hello, Pontus Andreassen. Normal professional dude. Also part time wannabe pornstar, apparently.
“Fucking sexy.” Louis pants into my shoulder, and sinks his teeth into my skin, and for a second my brain hopes he will bite down. I could do with some pain. The stinging in my arse now replaced with a dull delicious slide, my cock almost painfully hard, as my hand snakes down and I start to clumsily jerk myself off in the tiny space I have between my body and the mattress. It’s mostly a bit of finger action I can manage as Louis stabs me in the back with his elbow trying to get a better angle, and then he pulls me almost violently off the bed onto all fours, which makes my cock weep with joy.
I love when he manhandles me. When he throws me around. Uses me as his own personal pleasure slave. It’s a fucked-up fantasy to think that out loud, but it’s Louis.
I’ve never met anyone like Louis before.
“Do it!” I pant out as my hand gets right into the jerking off, all the cool air around my dick making me whinge as my hand gets a steady rhythm going and Louis’ fingers are bruising shapes into my hips as my arse gets the pounding of the century. He fucked me like this the day before yesterday. I fucked him to kingdom come yesterday. So, it was definitely my turn today.
“Fucking love you toooo.” He roars behind me, his skin slapping hard against my arse, the hairs on my legs pulling against his thighs, trapping my skin in little painful tugs. It just adds to it all. All the sensations tugging at my nerve endings. My skin on fire, and at the same time I have goosebumps on my arms. Hi
s breath hot on my back as he leans further over me, my arms shaking as I am struggling to hold us both up.
“Here it comes, baby. Here comes the motherload.” He shouts.
Fucking imbecilic crap, and if I wasn’t so far gone in my own sex-haze I would have laughed. Instead my mouth says something stupid like, “Fill me up baby,” as my dick starts to shoot and I am once again lost in bliss.
It’s crazy trying to explain it, the thing your body does in an orgasm. It’s like my brain is being squeezed out of my skull, my head too big for the world, and my dick exploding as my whole body shuts down for a few blissful seconds when everything is right in the world.
I don’t come back to my senses, fully, until I have somehow landed on my back and there is wet stuff running down my leg and Louis’s mouth is somewhere under my armpit, panting like he has run a marathon. Which I suppose he has.
“Fucking love you.” I say, my voice still a little wobbly.
“Your computer is making noises out there.” He says.
“Fuck. I had a breakfast meeting!”
I did as well, and I throw myself across the bed, kneeing him in the groin as I go, leaving him curled up like a ball laughing at me as I throw a shirt over my chest and rub myself down, and grab a clean one from the wardrobe.
“Be quiet for ten minutes or so while I get the gist of these people. It’s a big contract and I just need to concentrate.” I hiss, as I button up the collar and throw a tie around my neck.
He just laughs. The little shit.
The chair creaks and swirls as I throw myself down by my desk, tapping the enter tab like a freak, at the same time adjusting my tie.
The Naked Cleaner Page 11
