|
|
|
I disappeared into that kiss. I never wanted it to end. Ever. Our mouths fit so perfectly together. The way we held each other was so natural. We fit. Our lips and tongues moved with perfect pressure and grace. It has been like this from the very first time we kissed. We were built for each other. Every kiss was always like coming home, like old shoes. This was no exception.
The kiss went on and on. It wasn't making out, it was making love. Our eyes remained quietly closed. With every breath I drank in his scent, the scent I missed so terribly, the scent that made me whole.
Without breaking from our kiss he gently took my hand and laid it on his belt buckle. It used to be -- even the first time -- that in a single move of my fingers I could unbuckle, unbutton, and unzip his pants in under a second. It seemed that his pants wanted to come off for me. Like they had a mind of their own. I didn't pop his buckle open this time. I knew he wanted me to. I knew he wanted to make love to me, together, likely for the last time. Instead I tenderly clasped his belt over the buckle as if to say, no, this isn't going to open.
As I did his palm slid silkily from over my hand to under my t-shirt, up and up till it rested in the valley between my pecs, where he very lightly began a rhythmic stroking dance with his fingers. I was trying to find a way -- find the strength -- to break from his kiss when he did it for me. With the start of his finger dance he gracefully disengaged from my mouth, went straight to my ear, bit it, whispered, "mmmmm... I miss your furs", and began sucking my earlobe, his teeth and tongue playing tug toy with the bead.
That was when I felt a torrent of pre-cum suddenly shoot from my swelling cock and start running down my thigh. Without thinking my hand clasped his belt buckle even tighter and the other hand reached up and began playing with his hair. I was speechless. In other words, I was right where he wanted me. Well, almost.
I was so hot for him, not for 'him' as in being hot for Tony, but hot for him. He still had my heart in a full-Nelson. It had taken me so long to really recognize that he'd always have me like that. Always. My relief came from accepting that that's the way it would always be. It was for me the emotional equivalent of coming to terms with an amputated limb. A limb amputated violently no less.
When the flat of his hand was on my pec and he'd begun kneading it, along with his ministrations to my ear and neck, I had to act. Otherwise...
Ry, please, stop, no, this is trouble.
He pulled away and looked at me with those bottomless brown eyes, disappointed, sad, affects that used to cave me no prob.
You don't love me anymore, do you? You love that other guy.
Ry,.. Ry, look at me. I'm over here talking to you. You're trying to play that guilt card and it's halfway working. The other guy is not my boyfriend. He's also none of your fucking business. I don't want to hear what you're up to with SA either. I guess you're stringing her along like before. After what she did to me, I don't give a shit.
What did she...?
Doesn't matter. She's your problem now, and you are hers. Happy landings for both of you.
What did she say? That she's my girlfriend?
Bingo. No. You did. You said she was yours.
Hand from shirt, head off chest, legs wheeled around and up he sat.
Get your fucking lies straight, Ryan. Anymore I can only tell you're lying because your lips are moving. I'm sick of it. I was sick of it then and I'm revolted by it now. You played me like you played her like you played BR, like you played... shall I finish the list? Do you have the time?
Stop! Just stop!
With that he flung his head down on my lap and arm around me tightly, weeping convulsively. I let him. I didn't touch him for the longest time. When I did touch, it was just a flat hand on his back with the occasional short distance rub.
When you wrote in one of your hate-filled emails that I -- and I quote "abused privilege" by even speaking to you, that pissed me off royally. Speaking to you was in violation of mommie's threat. That's the privilege? In a couple weeks you're going to be 23, Ryan. TWENTY-FUCKING-THREE! Don't you think it's time to get off the goddamn tit?!
The weeping increased, but I was getting cleansed, so I didn't stop. Time for me to think of myself instead of always taking the fall for him. Yet, I was quiet after that.
I love you.
You said that before. If I had a nickel for every time you said or wrote that, I could retire. With all the lies I've learned you'd told me, your words are plug nickels now. I asked you to apologize to my face. You wrote from the safety of hiding behind a keyboard that that 'would never happen.' That hurt me at first, that you really cared so little, opposite even. I had been that duped. Then I realized that you're a coward. Can't apologize to my face? Fine. I couldn't believe you anymore if you DID!
The crying got harder, to the point of hyperventilation. I just let him. If he's contrite and words are difficult and this is the only way he can, let him do it here and now.
After a bit he propped himself up on an elbow, looking toward my crotch.
You have to believe me when I say...
Talk to my face.
With difficulty and my having to continuously remind him to look me in the eye he continued.
I love you. I didn't know love before you.
Did you get that from a girl movie?
He slapped on my legs in frustration.
No! I've had all the girlfriends and tricks, but never did I say those words. Not to any of them. Not to anyone before you. And if it makes you happy I don't think I'll ever be able to to anyone else ever again.
I thought of a smart ass thing to say in response, but didn't. His crying had started again. Had he suffered enough in contrition? At what point does it/did it become vindictiveness?
I love you Ryan. With all my heart. I always will. You have touched me in ways I can't explain and no one ever will again. I won't let them if they try. You claimed hold on the deepest part of my heart and it will always be yours.
I'm moving next weekend.
I know.
Can't we make love just one more time? Please. You mean everything to me. I can't move and leave town thinking you hate me.
All I could do was rock him at that point.
baby, my baby, I don't hate you. I can't. Things would be so much easier if I could. But you're toxic to me. All you do is hurt me. I miss you when you're not around, and too often miss you when you are.
I feel the same, Seth. I know. I miss you all the time, and when I'm with you, when we're together, I'm scared to death of losing you, disappointing you.
And so you did nothing and put me off.
No words, just a nod on my legs.
I was always so scared of fucking up. Then I did. Big time.
Can't we make love again? For the last time. Something to savor?
new | last
| next | archive
| profile | cast
email |
guestbook |
notes
| host | rings
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Have any comments you'd like to share?
[So far 0 smart ass remarks have been made.]
encroaching increase of darkness - 2008-11-02
Bones - 2008-09-20
random bitchings and musings - 2008-07-09
Man with Huge Cock - 2008-07-04
Eric and other crazy shit - 2008-06-29
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Thinkin' 'bout: these
Dog(s) keeping me company: categories
Current read: gotta go