We stayed on the floor for a while. It wasn’t cold, but I did tremble from time to time as Adrian moved his fingers slowly across my spine, stopping at my crack for a moment only to explore further. I suppose he was quite curious about his first time doing someone raw. My asshole was supple now and slick with cum – his cum – so his fingers could move easily in and out. It was nothing but examination on his part, but I enjoyed it. Even on my belly, with my head turned away from him, I felt so close to him.
“Too bad I can’t get you pregnant,” he joked. “Then I’d have something to lord over you.”
Strange choice of words. I felt so empty, but in a good way. I suppose two orgasms in a row would do that to anyone.
“How so?” I asked, seeing how the silence stretched between us.
“Well,” Adrian began, obviously taking great delight in his little fantasy, “your dad would want a shotgun wedding, obviously.”
I snorted. “Seriously now. I have no idea about legal implications and whatnot, but our parents are married.”
“We’re not blood-related,” Adrian disagreed. “So anything goes. I could marry you.”
“And raise our five beautiful children together,” I teased him, always the cynical old me.
“Five? You wouldn’t waste time, would you, Jo? You’d like the whole thing of being barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen.”
“I’d love it,” I played along. “You’d have to work out in the fields, regardless of there’s any work to do or not, while I’d be at home, busy cooking and complaining about lower back pains and whatever else pregnant women complain about.” That was about the extent of my knowledge on the subject.
“Fuck,” he drawled, “that would be the life. I’d come back each day to you, fuck you silly and then sleep like a log.”
“You’re insane,” I said. “You’re an artist, remember? Your hands aren’t made for hard work.”
“I beg your pardon?” He was still being silly, much to my surprise. And he was still playing with his own cum inside my ass. “My wrists are killing me after an entire day of sketching.”
“Can’t you do that sort of stuff on a computer?” I asked.
“Yeah. But the right tools are expensive, and they wouldn’t spare me the wrist pain anyway. Also, do you see enough room for a computer here?”
“You could get a laptop,” I said. Actually, he had one, not that I knew if he used it for making art or not.
“Shut up,” Adrian said and pulled at my ear. His fingers smelled of cum. It looked like he didn’t mind smearing it all over my body and my face. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Then tell me about it. I’ll know more.”
We weren’t talking about how we just fucked, and without a rubber on top of all else. But it felt natural this way.
“Girls aren’t the same,” Adrian said out of the blue.
“The same as in the fifties?” I played the teasing hand once more. “What? No one wants to be your breeding mare while you work the fields?”
He laughed. He sounded so carefree, though I was still an asshole, and he still didn’t know what to do about me.
“I don’t mean it like that. I liked them better in the past. Sex with them is so easy.” So it was confession time. I was all ears. “With you, it’s never easy. But I like it better. The fuck I’m talking about?” He tsked, displeased with himself. “I’m fucked up, and it’s your fault, Jo.”
“You came on to me. From the very first day,” I reminded him.
“Yeah, you looked like fun.”
“That’s such a blatant lie,” I warned him.
Adrian snickered. He returned to his explorations of my sweaty body. “It’s not. You looked so mean, in those old rags that made you look like a man in his fifties--”
“Fuck off. So you’re into old guys, then?”
He laughed again. “No, just into you. So, as I was saying before you interrupted me with your crude, annoying language, you were standing there, looking so mean and pissed, but also so damn pretty. I told myself you must be so hot under those prim and proper clothes. Usually, guys like you are.”
The good old jealousy was rearing its ugly head again. “The guys you sucked off, you mean?”
“Nah. Those guys were simple fun. Until you, actually, I didn’t manage to get into the pants of anyone looking like you.”
“So I was a challenge?”
“At first,” he admitted. “I’d been so pissed at my mom all the way to your dad’s house, because who the fuck wants to spend their summer before college out in the sticks, with nothing to do for months? Then I saw you, and I wanted to do you.”
“You’re so fucked up, for real.” I laughed, too. It was a good cover for how my heart started to sing on its own. Stupidly romantic or romantically stupid? I couldn’t care less. Even if he was basically telling me that he only became interested in me because he was so bored, and there was nothing to do ‘out in the sticks’.
“Do you ever think about the future, Jo?” Adrian rolled on his back, his hands linked over his stomach.
“Not so much,” I lied. “There are all these steps getting in the way. We need to pass our exams, and then, we need to find work, and maybe we end up with stupid bosses who ride our asses, and we complain about it while becoming alcoholics--”
He interrupted me by bursting into laughter. “You really think like an old man. Gosh, there’s really nothing good in your future? And seriously, I was only asking because I just want to know one thing.”
“What’s that?”
He straightened up to a sitting position but then rolled on one side, supporting himself on one arm, bent at the elbow. Our eyes had gotten familiar to the darkness in the room, so we could at least suspect each other’s expressions and moods.
“Are you ever going to come out?”
I dreaded the question. “Yeah, I suppose.”
“How can you stand yourself lying so much?” Adrian scolded me.
“I’m not lying. Now’s not a good time. Stop pressing me. It’s not for me, this coming out thing.”
“Is it because of your dad?”
I snorted. Yes, it was, but I couldn’t say it or else Adrian would see me as a coward. “No. I only went back home for Thanksgiving because you asked. If it were after me, I’d never go back there. I need to work anyway. Money doesn’t grow on trees.”
“As opposed to what? You think my mom just hands me over heaps of money, right?”
That surprised me. I was too self-absorbed to think about him that way. If he thought this friction between us happened only because of some weird jealousy between stepsiblings, he needed to think again.
“I have no idea, and I don’t care.”
“Admit it, Jo,” Adrian kept needling me, “you were freaked out about getting a stepbrother. Someone who’d get your dad’s love and money.”
I laughed. “You can’t be real. My dad has zero love to give. As for money, I doubt he’s giving you any when he couldn’t wait for me to get off his back so he could stop spending a dime on my sorry ass.”
An odd silence followed.
“What the fuck?” I whispered. “No way. Are you telling me… what the fuck?” I couldn’t even articulate the thought, that weird it was.
“Yeah,” Adrian said simply. “He gave my mom the money I spent on the car.”
I was speechless for a while. In all honesty, I have no idea what I was thinking in those moments. Confusion is too little a word to describe the mess inside my head. You could say I was hurt to hear that my cheapskate dad didn’t mind spending quite a bit of money only so his stepson could drive a beat-up Honda. It wasn’t like he’d given Adrian money to buy a Ferrari or some shit.
I wasn’t hurt. Only messed up by it. Angry? A little. That fucking asshole couldn’t bear the thought of giving me money for a new pair of jeans. Adrian had been right to describe my outfit when we first met as old man clothes.
“Jealous of me now, brother?” Adrian asked. He wasn’t looking to challenge me; that I could tell. It was worse than that. He was pitying me, most likely trying to figure out why I was a bastard. Lack of parental love could be as good a reason as any other.
“Not at all,” I replied. “I need to take a shower,” I said, pushing myself up.
Adrian caught my hand before I could get away. “Jo,” he implored. But nothing followed.
“It feels weird and sticky,” I said bluntly.
“I’m coming with you.”
I couldn’t refuse him, as much as I wanted to be alone.
***
Adrian’s hands moved slowly over my shoulders, although I hadn’t asked him to be gentle or anything at all. I couldn’t refuse him his desire for tenderness, regardless of whether I was capable of it or not.
It felt good to be alone together. The realization of that simple fact unsettled me. When you start caring for someone, you start becoming responsible for that person. It had been the exact thing I’d tried until then to steer clear of. Once I cut the last ties with the last family I had on earth, that being my dad, I planned on looking out for number one and no one else.
Adrian then happened. He kept happening in my life, destabilizing like a natural disaster that turns your home into dust so you can never return to it. My old plans needed rescheduling, adapting. Not that I was ready for any of that. Hence that sense of doom, that promise of tragedy that I wouldn’t be able to avoid.
“Does it hurt anywhere?” His timid question tickled the back of my head.
“Weren’t you supposed to be the bully?” I asked. “You fucked me raw, and now you care?”
He chuckled. He’d started to understand me to a degree, so he was no longer taking everything I said as gospel.
“You’re a worse bully than me, Jo,” he said. “Or a better one. Funny how you don’t realize it.”
“When it comes to you, it’s hard to say if what I do really has any consequences.”
Adrian caressed my back slowly, returning to my crack, which seemed to interest him to the extreme. His fingers were back inside my ass. It was late at night now, so we didn’t have to worry about people walking in on us in the communal showers. Or maybe we were just young and stupid.
“Consequences.” Adrian tasted the word slowly. “Do you refuse to see or look at all? Or are you completely blind?”
“What do you mean?”
“You,” he said, now wrapping his hands around my chest and playing with my nipples, “are turning me gay.”
“Shut the hell up,” I murmured, as his nipple play was starting to take effect on other parts of my body. “You sucked off dudes before.”
“Yeah,” he admitted, “but it was never serious.”
“Were you serious with any of the girls you fucked, then?”
Jealousy, jealousy, your color is green, and your taste is poison. It was absurd to be jealous of Adrian’s past flings, one, because they belonged in the past, and two, because I was there, in that moment, with him, not some girl he’d loved.
“A couple of times, yes.” He was unbearably honest, and for me, that felt like torture.
“And? What happened? Everywhere you go, everyone falls in love with you. Don’t tell me you got bored.”
As he’d come to get bored of me, a little voice whispered in my ear. I had no idea that would be the desirable option.
“No, not bored. But it’s like this,” Adrian started explaining. “Once we fuck a few times, it doesn’t last. I don’t abandon them; get that idea out of your head. But they fuck me because they want to fuck the cool, artsy dude. They don’t care about the other stuff.”
I cared about the other stuff. I wanted Adrian so much, to absorb him into me, to learn everything about him so that there would be no secrets between us. All the while, I intended to protect myself fiercely. It wasn’t fair, and there was a price to pay for it.
“You’re bisexual, Adrian,” I warned him. “I’m not turning you gay. Now that you fucked me, you’ll see.” I intended to lay it all out in the open so he was warned. It was a vain attempt on my part to protect myself from future suffering.
“I’ll see… what?”
He turned all his attention back to my ass. He got on his knees behind me and started licking my asshole; my earlier emptiness disappeared only to be replaced with new desire.
“You’ll just want pussy and tits again. This won’t last.”
“Shut up, coward,” he said, taking short breaks from licking my ass. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. There’s still some of my cum in your ass. I want to do you again.”
“Do you think my ass can handle it so soon?”
“I suppose we’ll have to check,” he said.
The more he played with my ass, the more I wanted it. The miser in me worried that I was burning through all the fucks Adrian had in him for me, but I couldn’t stop. Like becoming addicted to a drug, the more he gave me, the more I wanted it, getting hooked on him again and again.
He entered me quickly this time. I pressed my ass against him, happy to receive him inside my ass. I have no idea if those women who had him must have had better, more experienced lovers, to forget about Adrian so easily, but I could tell that he knew how to fuck. He moved slowly and amply, changing angles, using his lips, tongue, hands, even his entire body to make me feel good.
“Do you hear yourself?” Adrian’s voice was hot on my ear.
I was moaning. I hadn’t realized that was my voice until he told me.
“I’m the one who makes you feel like this,” he said with satisfaction.
“And I’m the one who’s milking you for all you got,” I replied, my voice hitching.
“You sure do, baby,” he said.
The endearing word broke me that time. I didn’t say another word. I only let myself consumed by passion until he blew another load inside me while I came all over the shower floor.
It was as good as you imagine.
tbc
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