by Tara Spears
“Sorry, sir, I have to work.”
Justin’s lips thinned as his jaw tensed. “Excuse us for a moment.” He dragged me to the kitchen, letting go of my hand as he whirled around to face me. “Work after your therapy appointment? Is that an excuse because you don’t want to go?”
I shook my head, and sighed. “All right, I’ll leave it up to you. I have to work two days. I planned on working Thursday and Friday so we could spend the weekend together. But if you want me here Thursday, then I can work Saturday instead.”
He scratched his forehead, chewing everything over for a moment before answering. He didn’t look happy with any of it.
“I’m going to be selfish. I want you for the weekend. There’s a party Saturday by the way, and I figured we could hole ourselves up in our room, or the studio, or something, just us.” He sighed, shoving his hands into his pants pockets. “My grandparents will just have to see you on their next visit.”
“You said our room.” I cocked my head curiously at him.
“You’re still moving in aren’t you?” His shoulders went ramrod straight.
“Yes, that’s my plan.”
“Then it’s our room,” Justin said, relaxing. “You know, your mind works in the weirdest ways.” He shook his head. “Let’s go say goodbye and get you in the shower. You’re still shaking.” He made a little face, “And sweating.” He led the way back to his grandparents.
After we bade farewell to a disappointed, but forgiving, Ben and Mira, he practically dragged me to the shower. I thought I had been doing quite well actually.
“I decided to instigate a rule since this is my house.” He opened a drawer and pulled out a pink plastic bag. “You’re not allowed to bring your scrub brush with you. It’s not allowed in this house.” He dumped the contents of the bag on the counter. “I feel you shouldn’t need it since it’ll just be you and I. You can use any of these exfoliating products to scrub with, but your brush will be officially retired.” He gave me a very firm look.
I gazed at the small pile of loofas and body brushes, then closed my eyes and nodded. I could do this. I would do this for Justin. I would do this for me. See, that wasn’t so hard. My OCD railed, sending a shudder through me. I ignored it, or tried to anyway, as I pried my fingers from my palms.
Justin scrubbed every inch of me with a loofa sponge. The sponge did a decent job and I was baby pink when he was done. Not to mention “IT” was in a rather amorous mood again, as was Justin, or at least his ten inch hard-on said he was. I was tired, and sore, and not in the mood, and this wasn’t like me, damn it.
I couldn’t deny Justin was special in ways I hadn’t begun to understand, but I wasn’t about to let my rampant hormones control me or our relationship. My eyes wandered over Justin causing “IT” to tighten. Goddamn sonofabitch. I gathered up the clothes on the floor, tearing the towel away from Justin while he was still using it, leaving him wide-eyed and gawking.
“When did showering become a couple’s activity?” I belted as I stomped petulantly to the laundry room. I grumbled about our relationship being about more than sex as I shoved the clothes in, and started the washer. By the time I added detergent “IT” was weeping.
“Quit acting like a pubescent child. Jesus Christ, you’re a fucking professional.” I tore off some toilet paper, and wiped him off. “He’s not the first tight ass you’ve been in.” I chucked the TP in the toilet, sighing. He was the first “IT” had ever truly wanted though. My fingers locked into my damp hair. He was the first I had ever truly wanted.
Even with that enlightening revelation, not to mention the fact I knew I was being childish, I still refused to turn our relationship into a Trey Grey sexual revolution. I left the laundry room intent on dressing, and disinfecting the table, possibly even borrowing a pair of Justin’s form-fitting boxers so I could keep “IT” in line.
I skittered to a stop. “Damn it.”
The bane of my sexual turmoil was posed in the middle of the front room looking every bit the slut I had accused him of being earlier. He was on his front, lying a bit like a frog, knees out to the side while his cheek rested on his folded arms. The position somehow enhanced his back and thigh muscles while giving a peek-a-boo view of his tight little... he was such a slut. He glanced back at me with mopey eyes, pulling the thumb he had been biting out of his mouth.
“If you don’t want me...” He slid his hands forward and arched his back down. I never thought I could get excited about a guy posing, but oh baby, was I. Justin’s ass wagging in the air was incredibly enticing. I banged my head against the wall. It didn’t help.
Then I realized he had said if I didn’t want him, not if I wasn’t in the mood. I gazed at him and caught him fumbling with his ear. A tell. It was a tell for his insecurity. How had I missed that?
I walked over and knelt down. “Justin, you’re going to be sore tomorrow.” I ran a hand down his back and he arched into my touch. What we had done in the kitchen hadn’t been enough for him. Or more than likely hadn’t been the right type of affection.
He purred the words, “I know.”
I opened my mouth then closed it on my rebuke as I realized why he wanted to be sore. I watched him move sensually against my hand, saw the flush travel across his body, all the while his eyes were closed. This was all part of his insecurity issues. He must have taken my walking out of the bathroom as a rejection and he needed to know I desired him. I shook my head as an enlightened smile crept across my face. The rough fuck I fell for was actually an exceedingly insecure bottom, even if he didn’t realize it himself.
This whole time he had been taking care of me, and I had completely missed what he required in our relationship. Justin needed affection, softness, love.
I took my time with him and gave Justin what he craved. This was another first for me. Some tricks need a little caressing to get the ball rolling, but I had never taken things so slowly, or listened to another’s body so completely.
I let my hands and lips roam over him, noting the areas he responded to with a sigh or a whispered; yes. I let him know with my body that he was very desired, wanted, and needed. I took him as gently as I could and after I came, I stroked him until he whimpered, shuddered, and collapsed underneath me.
I encased him in my arms and kissed across his shoulders until he relaxed. He melted into me. I was in a rather warm, languid state, and felt my lids weighting down.
“I love you, baby. Thank you,” Justin whispered, placing his lips on my palm.
“Mmm,hmm,” I mumbled as I drifted off.
I woke to the smell of food cooking, and Justin tightly wrapped around me with his face planted into the crook of my shoulder. The comforter from his bed had been laid over us, and there was clanking coming from the kitchen. Kelly was home.
I placed a hand over my eyes as I chuckled quietly. She’s the one who wanted to move in with two gay boys. Justin stirred, nuzzling my neck.
I turned, kissed his forehead, and my lips froze there for an instant. Oh God. Relax, relax, relax. Big fucking slimy wet spot beneath my back. It’s... it’s okay, I’m okay. It’s not dirty, it’s not foul. I moaned as my mouth turned pasty at the same time my stomach lurched.
“Trey, look at me, open your eyes.”
“Mmhaa.”
He jostled my neck. “You’re fine. The carpet can be cleaned, you can be cleaned. Relax.”
I cracked my eyes and felt Justin’s thumbs running along my jaw, saw his blue eyes staring intently down at me, and then felt the wet spot underneath me again and shuddered.
“That’s it, keep looking at me.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Kelly, can you bring me a clean towel from the laundry room please.”
“Yeah.”
I worked on breathing, concentrated on Justin’s face, the feel of his hands on my neck, and nothing was helping. My legs started twitching. My fingers fluttered.
“Here, Is Trey sick?”
“Thanks. No, he’ll be fine. Go back to the kit
chen please.”
She hesitated, biting her lip and Justin shot her a look. She left, wringing her hands.
“Roll over on your side.” He moved, and guided me over, then wiped off my back.
Oh God, sticky and crusty. I started coughing, and swallowed several times.
“Are you going to be sick?” Justin asked as he stepped over so he was facing me again.
“Not yet,” I squelched out, hoping I was telling the truth as my stomach continued to roil.
“Come on, let’s get cleaned up.” He helped me stand and a pang through my side and gut caused a leg to give out. He grabbed me, putting an arm around my waist.
“Are you okay?”
I nodded, and he guided me back to the shower. I managed not to throw up thankfully. Justin scrubbed me down with a short bristled body brush, and lots of soap. By the time he was done I had quit shaking. He enclosed me in a towel and sat me on the toilet seat. I winced at the pain in my abdomen, and cradled my arms around, trying to support the sore area. I felt utterly useless. I didn’t understand. How could I do so well then have a breakdown all in the same day?
“I’m sorry, I always ruin things,” I said quietly, feeling a total burden to him.
“You’re doing it again. Quit fucking apologizing. That wasn’t so bad.”
He bent down, kissed my temple, and my whole body did something amazing. It relaxed. Justin felt it, and smiled benevolently.
“Thank you,” I said.
The radiance of his smile could have overwhelmed the sun.
Chapter Twenty-Five
I woke to Justin leaning over me unlocking my cuff. God, he smelled good. I stretched and winced. All the muscles up my side and across my abdomen felt like they had been beaten with a meat tenderizer. Damn. Who would have thought making love would be so hard on the body.
“What are you wearing?” I asked.
“A shirt and tie. Don’t tell me you’ve never seen them before?” He shot me a smirkish grin as he dropped the cuffs in his drawer.
I grabbed him around the waist, pulling him down. “Why do you smell so good?” I sniffed up his neck. Mmm, he smelled like apple pie.
“You’re going to wrinkle me!” he admonished, sitting back up and straightening his tie. “Do I smell good? New body wash. Green apple.”
That explained his fabulous odor. Vanilla shampoo and green apple body wash. I’d have to remember that one. He leaned over to kiss me, and I snared him again, dragging him down on top of me. He screeched like a girl, while I manned up, ignoring the pain in my body so I could fondle his.
“Don’t mess up my hair!”
“Oh my God, my boyfriend’s a sissy.” I rolled my eyes at him.
“I have an admin thing today and I want to look nice. That does not make me a sissy.” He kissed me then started to get up. It was a crappy kiss.
“That kinda sucked.”
He grinned, giving me a proper kiss with tongue and everything. I was tempted to mess up his perfect blond spikes, but refrained by keeping my hands busy feeling his biceps and strong shoulders. He dressed up nice, really nice.
“Kelly’s waiting whenever you get your lazy ass up. Your bag’s already packed.”
“You know, I’m not an invalid. I could have packed my own bag. It’s just clothes and stuff.”
“And your medications.”
“Oh, yeah, I forgot those. The sedative seems to be working. I slept like the dead.” I shuffled into a sitting position and a sharp pang tore across my gut. I hissed and grabbed my midsection.
“What’s wrong?” Justin asked moving my arm so he could see my wound.
“I’m just sore. I think it’s that nick in my diaphragm.”
He blushed. “We probably overdid it yesterday. Remember to use your ointment and take it easy. If the pain doesn’t get better by tonight, I’ll come get you and take you back to the hospital.”
“I’ll be fine, nurse Kent. I have painkillers.” I grinned over his sour expression. “Hm, yeah, thanks for reminding me. I think we need to work on your schoolwork. Make it a priority this weekend.” If he didn’t start buckling down, he might not pass all his classes. He was already close to failing two of them, and I couldn’t accept that.
He rolled his eyes at me, yet conceded with a quick nod of his head. “I have to go. Call me tonight, and do me a favor, call me when you wake up too. Just for my peace of mind, okay?”
“I can do that.” I pulled him down, brushing my lips over his once more before letting him go. He ran in to the bathroom and checked his hair before darting out. I should have messed it up.
Kelly jabbered all the way across the bridge. Justin hadn’t given her a definitive answer on moving in yet, but it was assumed, and she relayed her plans for packing and what she needed to take to Goodwill. I let her ramble away as I gazed out across the dark blue waters of Lake Washington. I could feel the smile on my face. I loved the times between Justin and I that came easily. Like this morning.
I watched the gulls swooping over the water, their simple minds only worrying about breakfast right now. What would it be like to live such a simple life of need? Forage, fuck, sleep, raise young. It sounded simple enough, except I would never raise young. The thought of having a son scared the shit out of me despite the fact I didn’t seem to have any pedophilic tendencies. A staggering number of abused boys grew up to become predators themselves, and I wasn’t willing to take the chance it might be in me lurking somewhere.
The lake disappeared, as North Seattle dove down upon us. Willie had been the ultimate predator. If I hadn’t been such convenient prey it would have been another boy, and unfortunately probably was now. Maybe several since we’d parted. Even when he had me, he was always staring, drooling, and licking his lips at doe-eyed boys. Willie hadn’t married my mother for my mother. He had married her to get to me.
It was all innocent enough in the beginning. Holding my hand everywhere we went, cuddling on the couch watching movies, buying me things, rubbing my back. Over a year of foreplay as I grew to trust him, and his desire burgeoned.
The U.W. campus came into view, and I turned away from the window having successfully wrecked my jovial mood. It was my own special talent, as if my mind couldn’t compute happiness so it deleted it the only way it knew how. With the morose virus that was my past.
Kelly pulled up to the front of my dorm and offered me a warm smile.
“Thank you for the ride,” I said as I leaned over to kiss her cheek. “Good luck with your appointment.” I reached for the handle.
“It’s just a tour of their design center today.” She made a face. “I’m not sure I want the internship after making this drive. Not my idea of fun.”
“You could always move over here.”
“Leave you boys? No way, you need me.”
I smiled a real smile at her. “You’re probably right. Just don’t get caught up in the mayhem. You need to live your own life too.”
She looked away. “I could say the same to you.”
I opened the door and stepped out. “I’m trying. See you this weekend.”
As I closed the Honda’s door I heard her say quietly, “I hope so.”
So did I.
* * * * *
I entered my Honors seminar leaning on my cane for good measure, even though I didn’t need the thing. It wasn’t hard to look like I had been in an accident or attacked, since right now I felt like it. The cane just helped to complete the effect, not to mention the bruises still shadowing my face. I took a seat in front of the lectern rather than my normal offside location.
Here I was forced to pay attention, not to mention the instructor had a marvelous view of my injuries and discomfort. This being my only class today I figured I needed to make my presence known, and I seemed to have managed to do just that. Professor Greggor’s keen eyes kept glancing at me through his entire lecture.
* * * * *
Suitably hopped up on painkillers, I raised my hand to knock on Freddi
e’s arched door. It opened before my knuckles made the first rap. Freddie’s grin drooped the second he saw me.
“You look like crap.”
“Yeah, about that, no rough stuff, and we need to talk before we get started.”
He cast his eyes down as he stepped out of the doorway, gesturing for me to enter.
“Yes, sir,” he said meekly.
I shot him an amused sideway glance, his head was still down.
“Slave?”
“Sort of, sir,” he answered.
I made my way to the breakfast bar and sat down. Freddie followed, keeping his eyes averted. I knew subservients came in all shapes and sizes, but seeing Freddie in sub mode was... different.
I handed him a copy of my most recent test results showing I was clean. He glanced at them then handed them back before sliding a sheet of paper over. I didn’t pick it up right away.
“Freddie, things have changed since we made this agreement. I made a promise to my boyfriend I intend to keep. I’m moving in with him after finals, and I promised to leave the sex trade at that time. You can have me for a month.”
Freddie looked up, giving me a blazing grin before bowing his head again.
“Sir, I can accept those terms.” He peeked up at me. “I met someone I rather like, and I think he likes me too.”
I nodded and smiled. “A Dom?”
“Yes, sir. We’ve played a few times, and he keeps calling on me.”
“I’m happy for you, Freddie. I hope it works out.” I petted his head, and he leaned into my palm.
“You too, sir. You need someone,” he said in a tone that told me he still wished himself to be that someone, regardless of his newfound master. I couldn’t figure out what he saw in me. But then, I didn’t know what Justin saw either.
“Let’s see what you want from me.” I picked up the sheet.
His mouth opened slightly as his cheeks flushed pink. Now he looked like a shy sub.
Freddie was incredibly easy, if not a bit kinky. A little pain, plus a major pony fetish, and he had all the gear. The page listed what he was capable of, how to cue his tricks, as well as how to discipline him if he became a rank stallion or tried to buck me off.
