Adrian left that night without me having to tell him to. It looked like he got what he wanted, so there was no reason for him to stick around. I must admit that I was kind of pissed he didn’t want me to jerk him off to return the favor. It felt like he got the upper hand, and it unsettled me.
The next day, we both behaved like nothing happened. We were back to being on no speaking terms save for whatever counted as polite and didn’t get us in hot water with our parents. Madeline did throw us a few curious looks our way, but there was no way in hell she’d guess what we’d been up to the night before. She just wanted us to get along.
That was one thing that wouldn’t work between us. We were too different to actually find common ground. And I was betting on him keeping his distance because the last thing I wanted was Dad to notice something going on between us. It was far better to have him believe that we barely tolerated each other. It made me feel reasonably safe.
And for a few days, it worked. He came back tipsy on beer and the vapid relationships he was quickly forming with the neighborhood sluts and cunts – talking here about both chicks and guys. It was astonishing and low-key fascinating to observe him and his habits. The perfect social animal, I called him in my head. Now that was someone who could walk in the world wearing an impenetrable mask and not giving a damn because he knew he’d always land on his feet due to his ability to pretend he was well-adjusted.
So I was safe. Not particularly satisfied with the way things were standing between us, but safe, yes.
I had to make excuses for him in my head since he’d been pretty wasted that time when he jerked me off. But I knew it wasn’t true. Who got really that fucked up on beer alone? Since we’d been taught at the local youth club about recognizing the signs exhibited by someone on drugs, I could tell he wasn’t high that night.
So that left the only other alternative, or at least one I could accept as reasonable. He regretted putting his clumsy hand on me and tasting my cum. Yeah, especially that.
As a proper self-flagellator, I didn’t masturbate to the fresh memory of that night. I liked, no, scratch that, enjoyed thinking of it, sometimes mapping every little second, remembering how Adrian had laughed or said a particular word. And as I lay in bed, stiff to the point that my dick hurt, I abandoned myself to the decision of not giving in.
Not for his sake. Or on his account.
It must have been a week or so until my stepbrother decided that he was too bored with the small-town life and wanted to mess with me instead.
I was on my usual run, early in the morning. For a few hours, where we live, you can forget that summer days can be unforgiving; they’re hours of grace, when you can breathe, feel free, and run until your lungs burn. If there was one thing I’d regret about this place once I left it behind, it would be this.
The long winding path through the trees narrowed before me as I focused on my usual stuff. College started come fall, and I’d be free from my dad and this shithole. Consider it my positive affirmation at the time.
I was so caught up in the rhythm of my labored breathing and my thoughts that I didn’t see him. Barreling straight into him, I managed to make both of us roll into a nearby bush, ending up scratching my legs pretty badly.
“Adrian,” I hissed at him, getting up with a grunt.
I was sweaty from the run and needed to get my bearings back. My heavy breathing stopped me from giving him an earful.
The jerk lay on the grass, on his back, his arms and legs stretched. And he was laughing.
“You’re a complete idiot,” I finally managed to say. “Why did you get in my way like that? And without saying anything?”
He placed his hands under his head and squinted at me, while his beautiful lips quirked in an arrogant smile.
To be honest, I wanted to kick him in the nuts, not because he crashed into me, but because he could behave like that, like he hadn’t been ignoring me for days.
“I wanted to surprise you,” he drawled.
“Fine, you surprised me,” I said. I looked down at the state of my legs and winced. Gingerly, I lifted the legs of my shorts to assess the damage. One thorn had crossed along my right thigh, dangerously close to the family jewels. Not that I planned starting a family anytime soon, but getting my ball sac scratched like that wasn’t on the list of my priorities. Only luck had it that I didn’t get hurt worse.
“The fuck,” I heard him muttering. “You’re bleeding.”
“Thanks to the fucker who thought it’d be a grand idea to get in the way of someone running,” I said.
“You don’t talk like a choir boy.”
“And you just realized that? I talk your language. You should be satisfied.”
He got up but only so he could drop on his knees in front of me. With sure hands, he pushed my shorts upward and stared at the nasty cut on my upper right thigh.
And put his lips on it, followed by his tongue.
“Adrian,” I whispered, stealing nervous looks around. People in our town didn’t come here to run, they weren’t the kind to do that, and the younger crowd preferred the woods only late at night, not at this hour.
But you never know, right?
His tongue moved slowly across my skin. His saliva stung a little, but it gave me the expected relief.
I had no idea what I was supposed to do, except for looking around to spot anyone who might stumble upon us. A stiffness overcame me, and I’m not only talking about how hard I got with Adrian’s lips so close to my crotch area. From above, I could peer directly at the crown of his head. He had nice hair. Not that he worked to style it or anything, but he looked good – city boy good if I can say that.
“Are you done?” I hissed at him. My muscles started trembling slightly, from the earlier expended adrenaline or maybe because of what he was doing to me.
“Why are you in such a hurry?” He tipped his head back, making our eyes meet briefly. I bet he continued to stare at me but I looked away. Call me a coward; you’d be within your rights.
“I don’t run for pleasure,” I said. “I need to be in shape to deal with assholes like you.”
His fingers dug into my hip where he was gripping me to hold himself in a steady position. “You struck me as a total virgin, Jo. Don’t tell me you’re secretly the village bicycle.”
“Fuck off,” I grunted in pain. His fingers were like steel, hard and relentless. I’d bruise for sure, I thought at the time, and it was just the start of it. Adrian would inflict a whole lot of bruising on my sorry self from that moment onward. I’d met my doom. As I was saying.
“What assholes are you talking about?” He relaxed his hand, but only so he could snuck his index finger closer to my balls. A slow caress, a fraction of an inch from my dick, meant he was testing me.
“Look,” I said, sucking in a breath, “you’re not the only one who sees me like the choir boy I am to you, too. Do you really think I don’t know I’ll get bullied once I’m out of here? I need to hold my own.” I babbled, because he was touching my ball sac through my underwear; soon he’d had his entire hand in my running shorts.
“So, you’re a fighter?” He chuckled and pressed his cheek against my aching cock. It was obvious he was getting me hard. I bet he was getting off on it, too. In his own way, of course.
“I need to be. The world is not a nice place. If you need me to tell you that, then you must’ve lived under a rock until now.”
He laughed again and rubbed his face against my crotch. I could feel the warmth of his skin through the thin fabric of my shorts. It was ridiculous, being out there in the woods, with my stepbrother kneeling at my feet and pretending he liked me.
There was not one drop of doubt in my mind that he was playing with me. What reasons could he have to do that? I racked my brain to find at least one, but I knew him too little to pretend I could tell what went through his head. Adrian, it seemed, was a mystery that would reveal itself to me in the most horrible ways.
“I could be your guide,” he said while pulling my shorts down to get to my cock. “I know a lot about the big bad world out there.” With a grin he flashed at me like the all-knowing asshole he was, he engulfed my cock in his mouth in one smooth move.
One he must have practiced while on his knees a thousand times over. That dark thought crossed my mind as a new kind of heat bloomed in my nether regions. He was a cocksucker. He loved being on his knees, opening his mouth wide to gobble up cock and cum, no matter who the man doing that to him was.
To be clear, those were my own thoughts. I didn’t know the first thing about Adrian’s past at the time, so I was making things up because I wanted to feel jealous. Yeah, jealous. My penchant for punishment needed a reason. Adrian made one terrible, beautiful reason.
Had he sucked cock before kneeling in front of me for the first time? Without a doubt. But the rabid ‘Christian’ in me wanted to make him into a whore so I’d feel vindicated for my own sins. It was an excuse like any other; I’ve never been a good Christian – too much bile inside me.
The guttural sound of my own desire for his mouth sent a shiver down my spine. The wetness and hotness surrounding my cock made a twisted version of heaven, the kind I preferred to an entire choir of angels.
It was better than his hand. He was less clumsy performing a blowjob than he was when jerking off his stepbrother. But again, he hadn’t used his dominant hand that time. I’d come to learn each of the little details that made him… him.
The one I wanted. The one I’d always want, until the end of my days, come hell or high water. For that, I hated him, and I knew, even as he was busy pleasuring me, that I’d always hate him.
I risked a look below. My eyes were teary because of the intense pleasure I’d never experienced before, so it was like seeing him through a haze. My heart was pounding inside my chest, as if it wanted to tear its cage wide open. My lips murmured a chant that was the complete opposite of a prayer.
As my vision cleared, a new wicked sensation of satisfaction overcame me. The length of my cock disappeared slowly inside his mouth and then reappeared, as he bobbed his head to and fro. I could tell he liked it – no, he loved it – because he seemed so lost in it. It was as if I wasn’t even there, that whatever was happening took place only between him and my cock. That was quite a shock – to realize that he was reducing me to a part of me, the basest and most cunning of them all. Or did it come second, after my heart?
I gritted my teeth in a sudden surge of anger. He looked confused as I pushed him away.
“Is this all you want?” I taunted him, gripping my cock by its base and flaunting it in his face. “After talking so big about wanting to fuck my mouth? You’re just a cocksucker, aren’t you?”
How could I explain to him that he was making me jealous of my own cock? The frustration of pushing him away just as it was getting good grew inside me. I was doing this to myself. That’s what a masochist does. Did Adrian know about such things? He was simpler in that respect, more complicated in others.
He laughed and stayed on his ass. “Jo, you’re so fucked up.” Biting his bottom lip, making me aware of it, of its plumpness and juiciness, he began rubbing the front of his jeans. “I thought you’d like it better if I eased you into it. But you’re really into it. For real, you want me to fuck your mouth.”
I began rubbing my cock slowly as he talked. His guesses hit close to home. It was the stuff I’d jerk off to. If he was too nice to me, he only made me mad. And he understood at least that.
He didn’t take his cock out, knowing that it’d torture me. Funny how he was so on the same length with me when it came to sex. Yeah, sinners come together, right?
As we did then. Our heavy breathing mingled with the sounds of the woods around us. I aimed my cock at him like a gun. He didn’t flinch but held his mouth wide open, forcing me to come closer because I wanted to know how it’d feel to shoot in him, one way or another.
His tongue stuck out, he took it all. And the way his body shook and his eyes rolled in his head in ecstasy, he was giving himself one weird kind of orgasm by just rubbing his cock through his jeans. I bet his underwear was a mess. I wanted to check.
But I didn’t say anything. I just shook my cock for the last drops that fell on his cheeks like tears and stepped back from the scene of the crime.
Then I turned on my heel and broke into a run, hiding my dick back in my shorts, waiting for the shame to hit.
Guess what? It didn’t happen.
tbc
AN: skyreader, thanks; I want these characters to feel real.
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