The Boy with the Club foot

Reader discretion is adviced, this story contain graphic content depicting violence and rape which may not be suitable to all readers. This is a fictional story and do not portray real events or real persons.

From your Author:

I have talked with other writers; what makes us do what we do. I always do ‘from the author’ after my final edit. My first series, ‘Robby and Ryan’ was non-fiction; so much easier to write. I think I have eight others on this site that are fiction; maybe a little, non.

I started with the title and spent a day. Life stepped in and I took a day off. Fuckin life. I try writing about things that are relevant, stuff you, as readers, can maybe relate with. So… many read and few write.

I may have said this before; The birth of a story is a happy thing. I have a hard time with, ‘one-offs’ and that’s where I saw this going. If you are one of my readers, you know that. I saw this at about 2500 words. Didn’t happen. I hit 3000 words and realized I had yet to tell the story.

At 4500 words I knew the ending and saw easily 70000 thousand more words. We can do that, I could back up a paragraph and continue with a High School love story. The jock bottom and the hung kid with a limp. RJC.

So, I’m a senior in High School, play football, and I have a serious confidence problem. I mean I like girls and have tried to do stuff but my fear of rejection has held me back. I can’t muster the courage to try and kiss, and the thought of actually taking my clothes off in front of a girl or doing the deed terrifies me.

I mean it’s not that I’m bad looking, I don’t like my size because I think I’m too big. Yes, I am six-two, a little over two hundred pounds, blond and blue-eyed. I don’t have a problem getting a date but I lack what it takes to follow through and that has gotten me a reputation of fickle.

I mean the fear of trying to do something just cripples me when it cums to making the first move. Last night this girl named Kelly took that out of my hands and kissed me, brought my hand up under her shirt, and I freaked out.

There was no rejection, she wanted it, bad. I just couldn’t. Don’t ask me why because I have no idea why I couldn’t fuck her. She sucked my cock, rolled my balls in her hand, and I never hardened. “Just take me home,” she said after trying all her moves on me.

Maybe it was how verbal she was telling me my dick was so big and all that shit. I knew she was lying because my cock isn’t big, not that it’s small, but it isn’t big. All the while I am trying to get hard because I really did want to fuck her so she could go brag to her friends that she got into my pants.

Now, this whole ordeal got me thinking after I dropped her sour ass off, why couldn’t I? Being the age I am I was in a state of perpetual hardness all the time and couldn’t figure out why I couldn’t for her. I mean it wasn’t like she didn’t suck on my soft shaft like a pro, I have nothing to gage that too because she was the first to ever do that.

I drove around for a while then decided to stop for a burger at the local hang out. I had a lot of friends, ran in a couple of different circles, so people knew me. I ordered inside then looked for a place to sit. I saw him in the corner, his jet black hair and green eyes, the kid with a limp.

He was new, well he had been in school for a couple of months and lived down the street from me. “Can I sit here,” I asked? Don’t ask me why?

“Sure.” He said looking up at me for a minute then back at his phone.

“I’m Tatum,” I told him.

“I know who you are.” He replied never looking up.

“And you are?” I asked.

“My name is Oscar, but my friends call me, Oz.” And he never looked up.

I chowed down on my Ultimate burger and curly fries with horsey sauce. “That shit is poison to your body; you know?” And he looked at me with a smile.

Ok? Where was this hard on an hour ago? I don’t think I had ever seen such green eyes or more natural red cheeks. His hair was messy in a good way; he was way smaller than me. His clothes were baggy and I wondered why? Again? Why am I getting hard looking at him?

“You have amazing green eyes.” Where in the fuck did that cum from I wondered to myself?

“Thanks.” And he went back to his phone.

Now I had never said something like that to a girl and sure as hell never to a guy. “Why do you limp?” I asked out of nowhere.

He put his phone down and looked at me: like really looked at me. “I was born with a club foot and when I was a baby they did surgery but I lost the muscle that lifts my foot up. I wear a brace, but.” And he just stopped there.

“You want a ride home?” Now really? Where in the fuck did that cum from?

“I can walk.” He said still looking at me.

“Why are you being an ass, Oz?”

“I said my friends call me that.” Now that just pissed me off more.

“Fine. Fuck you.”

“No! Fuck you.” And he stood looking down on me.

“No. Fuck you.” I may have said a little too loud and I stood.

I shouldn’t have stood up because my dick was straining hard to the right and he saw it. He didn’t just see it but he starred, then looked up at me with a smile.

He put his fist up and said, “My name is Oscar, but my friends call me, Oz.”

I bumped fists with him telling him my name was Tatum. “They call you, Tantrum, Why?”

If there was anything I hated more, it was that nickname. I sat down because my dick was extremely uncomfortable and it gave me a sec to rearrange just a little.

“SO?” He asked again sitting back down.

“You are really annoying.” And he smiled which did nothing for my hard-on.

His head was tilted a little, teeth so white, red cheeks and dimples. Again, none of this helping the dick pushing into my right front pocket. “I had a tizzy last year.”

“And?” He just wasn’t gonna let this go.

“Have I said you are annoying?”

“Yes. You said that already. Well?” He had such fuckin confidence.

“So? You want all the gory details, do you?”

“You can leave out the blood but if you don’t want me calling you out, Tantrum, yes.”

“Some guys were picking on a kid.” I thought maybe that was enough. It wasn’t.

“And?”

“I went kind of Tasmanian Devil on them.” I didn’t like thinking back on that.

He closed his eyes and said, “Let me get a visual. Ok, why?” he asked opening his eyes locking me.

“Have I said, you are annoying?” And again that smile.

“Well? Why did you fly off?”

“They were bashing him. Calling him fag and shit. He was a nice kid who got a bad rep. I got kicked out of school for a month and had to go to counseling. Happy, now?”

He smiled and nodded. “So? You have anger management issues?”

“You are really starting to piss me off, Oz.” He really was but now there was no way to hide my dick that was soon to be sticking out the top of my pants.

“Do you want a ride, or not,” I said standing pulling my tucked shirt so it would cover what I couldn’t hide.

“Sure.” And he stood.

He laughed getting in watching me struggle. “You’re too fucking big for a car like this. Why aren’t you driving a truck or something?” He asked watching me fold myself trying to get behind the wheel.

“Have I said you are annoying?” I asked looking over at him.

“I think we’ve covered that.” And his smile was different. I dropped him off saying I’d see him tomorrow.

I mean, I saw guys all the time in the locker room and showers. Yes, I looked at their cocks but never thought about doing shit with them. Why was I jacking off now thinking about, Oz?

It was, semester change the next day and now I had PE for the following three months. And there was Oz. He took off his baggy clothes and his gym shorts were under. We were all in the gym doing stretches, god he was bendy.

He had his legs spread and I swear he was kissing the floor. What I wouldn’t give to be able to do that. We all did our thing and we're back in the locker room. “What up, T?” Jason asked.

I shrugged. “Why you sucking up to that crippled twink? I saw you guys at the Box.”

It took me a second; that shit don’t fly. My left hand palmed his face pushing his head into the locker and my right fist reared back. A hand grabbed my arm and he asked, “Is this what a tantrum looks like?”

I growled at Jason, “He just saved your fuckin life.”

Yes, I do have a temper, anger issues, is what the councilor called it. But when I looked at Oz, all I wanted to do was melt. And that pissed me off just as much. I would have pummeled Jason.

Oz found me at lunch, “OK.” He said, rocking his head in a way that was so… cute, and annoying at the same time.

“Fuck you.” I don’t know why I was mad at him; well, yes I did.

“Are we starting from square one again?” He asked. Those green fuckin eyes.

I didn’t answer. “What’s wrong, T?”

“You don’t know me.” I told him wondering why he pissed me off.

“You’re right, I don’t. Sorry I bothered you.” And he got up.

“Wait, Oz. want to skip the rest of the day?” I have no fuckin idea where that came from.

“I would in a second but I have a test in sixth. Drive me home?” He asked.

I couldn’t hold back my smile, “Sure.” I told him.

I saw him smiling at me over the top, “It is a small car for a guy big as you.”

“Just get in.” And I folded myself into the driver’s seat.

I love Tom Petty and Maryjane came on. My head started rocking as I backed up, both thumbs over my shoulders on the beat, and I forgot about him next to me. Last night with Maryjane. When I realized he was holding his eyes with fingers and smiling I stopped. “What?”

“Nothing, Tantrum.” And now he was looking at me.

“You making fun of me?” I asked.

“Never.” And I thought he had more to say.

“What?”

“You’re funny. And I’m not making fun of you, T. Do you want to tell me about what happened in the locker room?”

“No.”

“I think you do.”

“Well, I don’t.”

“Was it about me???”

“Boy; you are full of yourself for such a little fucker.”

“Stop the car; I’ll walk.”

“Don’t go get your panties scrunched up, Oz.”

“Stop the fucking car, now.” Something had pissed him off. Wait; it was me.

“I’m sorry.” And my hand for some reason found his leg. “I really am.” And he swatted my hand away.

I pulled over and turned to him, “My name is Tatum, what’s yours?” It caused us both to smile.

“My name is Oscar, but you can call me Oz.” And the hand he slapped away he put back on his leg.

“Tell me this is your Moms’ car?” And he smiled again.

“You got some balls, Oz.”

“That’s only half of it, T. You really need a truck to haul that awesome fuckin frame of yours around.” Ok. Now I was getting hard again.

“What?”

“Which part?”

“What?” and I looked over at him.

“That I have big balls and the rest of me is the same? Or, that you have an awesome fucking body?” I needed to pull over again.

“Let’s start over.” And I didn’t have anything after that.

“OK. Where do you want to start, T?”

“Well?” And I still had nothing.

“Yes. I’m big. And yes, you have an awesome fuckin body.”

“What???” And I really wanted to know; wanted him to tell me that again.

“Have you ever really looked at yourself in the mirror?” He wasn’t smiling when he asked.

“What?”

“Have you ever really looked at yourself, T? I mean with no clothes on?”

“What?”

“You’re killing me here.”

“What?”

“You are a walking-talking-wet dream.”

“What?” He was telling me something I never knew.

“You’re kidding, right?” He was ready to, bust-up.

I was stuck on wash, rinse, repeat. “What?”

“OK. Let me be the first to tell you; you are hot as fuck.” And his cheeks were redder than normal.

Wait. What? That’s what I thought. I had nothing. He was telling me something I needed to hear, and I still had nothing. “Wanna spend the night?” Where that came from I have no fuckin idea.

“What do you have in mind, Tantrum?” And he smiled at me.

If I were honest with myself; I wanted to see him naked. “We could play some games,” I told him.

“I’m a big boy who doesn’t like playing games, T.” Now talk about a guy my size listening to him?

“So? Is that a yes?” I had never been so forward in my life.

“I’m not into games, Tatum.” And I totally understood.

“So? Is that a yes?” And I smiled to myself.

I honestly. I wanted to see his naked little body. I mean I really wanted to see him naked. We walked in and I yelled that a friend was with me and we were gonna game for a while; up the stairs we went.

It was awkward for a minute. “Take your clothes off.” He told me.

“What?”

“Take your clothes off and look long and hard at yourself, T.”

“You first.” Again, I have no idea where that came from.

“ The Game don’t roll that way. I’ll help.”

I let him take my coat off followed by my shirt, he did my belt and let my pants fall. Talk about embarrassment; I was hard as a rock peeking out the top of my underwear. He seemed not to notice other than a small smile. Oz, stood behind me looking around my shoulder in the mirror.

“You don’t see this?” He asked pulling my hair back. “You don’t see this?” He questioned running his fingers over my nipples and down my chest.

“You have nothing to be ashamed of. Your body screams sexuality.”

I mean I heard him and saw his fingers tracing over parts that no one had ever before. “Your body is beautiful, Tatum. I wish I was you.”

OK. Just fuck me into next year. He could talk to me like this forever. And his fingers explored. “Do you see it, now?”

Here we were, him, as in a boy, was showing me something I’d seen but never really saw. I looked at my hair and face, down my chest and stomach, and at his hand that now held me. It took like three strokes; maybe only one. I fuckin creamed the mirror.

I was so… fuckin embarrassed. I saw him smiling behind me. “Good thing we got that out of the way.”

I turned and did to him as he had me. Off came the shirt, oh, fuck me. He had a valley down his chest. Cuts defined his abs, with a serious V disappearing into his pants. Not a stitch of hair; well a little.

He smiled at me, maybe mocking me. I mean I was naked, cum still slowly rolling down my shaft. My eyes had gone to heaven. What a fuckin body? I mean there was a little black hair that ran down from his bellybutton, a few around his nipples, and I was ready to cum again.

I did his belt, unzipped his pants, and they fell. I was looking right at him; not in the mirror. He did his shorts; and I fuckin near fell over. He was not proportionate to his size. He was half hard and my mouth fell open. Don’t ask me why, I didn’t expect that and his smile told me, I was a dummy.

If I would have had this vision the other night I would have fucked her, would have been able to get hard and probably would have ruined my life. Fuck. I couldn’t talk, my fingers ran over the hardest muscles I had ever felt.

“I am not playing a game, T. I will not allow you to use me.” It took me a minute to digest that.

“You’re right. I don’t want to use you. But you touched me and I came like a cum cannon, I think we need to talk about that.” Where did this rational side of my brain cum from?

“You’re funny, T. And I am not making fun of you. But, you need to jack off a little more.”

“What?”

“Dude. That was a lot. You splashed the mirror.”

OK. I will stop for a minute.

From your Author:

I have never spoken of my older brother. He was sixty-eight and two days ago he died. He was a junkie, spent half his life in prison, and really didn’t influence me one way or another, till now. His girlfriend called me about five the other day; he’d had a heart attack at work and she couldn’t find him.

I think I knew then. I was talking to her about seven and she still hadn’t found him. I saw a number on my phone and a voice message. It was the King County Coroner. I ended the call and called the number. He was a kind man who told me my brother was dead.

Now some would think how could I write when my brother had just died? That’s a good fuckin question. It distracts me. The fact of the matter is; his loss doesn’t affect my life one way or the other. But it does.

I had talked to him the day before, Fuck. I had talked to him and we made plans to have lunch next week. It was a massive coronary, his heart-beat, and then, it didn’t; Just like mine.

We lived with a condition that had him scheduled for surgery next month. What I want to say is this; addicts will tell you whatever you want to hear. Loving someone and wanting to believe the lies; they use that against us.

So I had to tell his girlfriend. I called her back telling her I found him. She was excited. ‘He is in The Harbor View Morgue,’ I told her. It was worse than being the last one.

It took me twenty minutes of assuring her I wasn’t lying; like someone would lie about that. This is not my proudest moment. Drugs. My life has been destroyed by drugs. My brother shot up Rob the first time; shot both of us up.

I told his girlfriend that I would pay, whatever. It’s no big fuckin deal. She texted me today that she would do it and she might need my help having him moved. My boys, my grandsons, heard these conversations.

“You’re not ok, Grampy.” He thinks he’s so fuckin smart sometimes.

“Robby. Please, don’t.”

“But Grampy. Please.”

“No.”

“I didn’t even know you had a brother, Grampy.”

“I don’t.” And I got up. “Go to bed, big guy; I’m fine.”

He fuckin followed me. “Grampy?”

I turned. “Robby? People need to deal with shit. You don’t need that.”

“But Grampy?”

“NO. Now go in and go to bed; I’m fine.”

“You told me once; you’d never lie to me.”

“No. I told that to, Rob. Now go to fucking bed.”

“Grampy?” And I walked away.

“Grampy?” He was following me.

“Let me help.”

“NO. I don’t need your help. Grampy, is, fine.”

“You stop it right now, Jr.”

“Grampy, please.”

“No. No. No. Go to bed.” So? Here you have it; this is the life of this Author.

Life is life. I’m not special. We all have shit in our life that isn’t pretty. If you asked other Authors, they’d probably tell you the same thing. Robby wants to help but I can tell and won’t let him.

The little fucker. I could just strangle him. I fell asleep next to the fountain. None of you can understand, you won’t even fuckin believe me.

There he was. The little fucker who was looking more like his dad; my eldest son. He was in my fuckin head. You wouldn’t understand. He was in the shadows. Those are parts of your brain that you don’t even know.

I could see him, and he knew. “Go to bed, Robby,” I said in my mind.

I was fuckin mentally drained. My grandson took advantage of me. I did feel better the next morning and started writing this. Word.

So? I really don’t know what to tell those of you who don’t know me but have followed over three-thousand words, read what I wrote, I am an Author. I drink as I write, eat white cheddar popcorn, and think about those of you who read.

Where were we? I remember. So we were standing in my bathroom, both of us now naked, me with cold cum running down my still hard shaft. “You weren’t lying,” I said finding my voice.

“I don’t lie, Tatum. But what are you talking about?”

“These.” And I cupped a boy’s balls for the first time. It was strange in a way, and not.

“Damn, Dude. I see why you wear loose pants.” And I watched him harden from my touch. Actually felt it.

I stepped behind him so we could see each other in the mirror. He was a head shorter than me and I did as he had. I grazed his nipples, ran a finger slowly down that valley, between the creases of his abs, and then what had grown.

I held him like I would do myself wondering what it might be like having a dick so big and long. I mean he was a, two fister, and then some. His head fell back resting on my shoulder. “Do you see how fuckin hot you are, OZ?”

“Have I said you talk too much, T?” And his eyes never opened.

I was in, ‘fuckin heaven’. I stroked him as I did myself, I know my still hard dick was halfway up his back. I mean my left hand cupped his balls, my right, moved slow.

I felt it happen. His balls pulled up, this kid's dick flexed in my hand, then, holy fuck. All hell rained down; well, cum rained down. Talk about a guy who needed to jack off a little more.

The biggest surprise of my life. I came again behind him and may have reached his neck. He turned looking at me, cum dribbling from his oversized cock, my cum, running down his back to his fine cheeks. Wait. What?

Now I was looking at him looking at me. Those green fucking eyes. Shit, shit, shit. I mean he was a head shorter than me, not that, that means anything. “We need to talk.” I thought I said it but it was him.

I wanted to kiss him. I mean I really wanted to fuckin kiss him. I thought about looking down on him as my hard part slid into my smaller friend. I thought about looking up at him as a bat went in through my out hole. Fuck.

“You really need to jack off more, T.”

“And you need to, tame this beast.” And I milked a long string, out.

“I should go.” He said looking at me in the mirror.

“Over my dead body,” I said to his reflection.

“If that’s the way it has to be.”

“Wait. What?” And I picked him up by the head as his fist grabbed my nuts.

Needless to say, I dropped him. It didn’t stop there. Most of us will never know; a knee to the balls. Not me. He fuckin nailed me.

I fell, well, I dropped. I had never been kneed before. He was over me, apologizing. His dick was over my chest, drooling. I was trying to breathe. I found my hidden strength, rolled him, and my arm was pulled back. I saw fear. That did it for me.

I melted. “You can’t do that to a guy, Oz.”

“It’s totally my fault, T.”

“Yes, it is.” And I looked down on him wanting his kiss even though I was catching my breath.

His fingers ran through my hair, he was looking up at me, and I realized how different we were. I mean. Fuck. We were both naked, both of us were dripping and his was under me. Fuck.

His hands went to my shoulders like he knew I was going to kiss him, and he didn’t let me lower. I mean I could have, maybe I should have, but I stopped. Those green fuckin eyes bored into me.

OK. We all have a moment. I wanted him. It made no difference to me how. I took his hands off my shoulders and matched mine with his. I leaned down and kissed him. The first time in my life I took the lead.

I thought to myself, why have I waited? Then it came to me when his lips met mine. I had been waiting for this. My eyes were closed; his lips were as soft as I knew they would be. Oz rested his arms over my shoulders. It might have been mine, or maybe it was his pull. We were both on the floor in my bathroom.

“Is your friend staying for dinner, Honey?” My mom asked from the door. We both froze.

“I think he is staying for dinner, Mom,” I said looking down on him.

“Tell me right now; you will never hit me.” He asked looking up at me.

“I’m telling you right now; you ever knee me again,” I couldn’t finish it. Those green fuckin eyes. I know I smiled.

“Promise.” And he pulled me down.

I mean kissing. I hadn’t done much of it. What had I been missing out on? No. Stop. There is kissing, then there is kissing. I was enthralled, his lips. “Something smells good.” He said pulling away.

“What?” I asked pulling back.

“No. Something smells really fuckin good.”

OK. Let me wrap my itty bitty brain around this. “What???”

“You can’t smell that???” And I squeezed my eyes shut.

“I can’t smell shit, but I can taste you.” And I licked my lips.

“You are a seriously sick fuck.”

“And where are you going with all this?” And I found his lips.

“I’m hungry. I think I’m gonna need my energy, T.” And now I looked down on him with his bat between my cheeks. There was no doubt.

We both walked down in boxers. It’s the normal thing. I thought I needed to catch him as he walked up behind my Mom. “It smells so… fuc, sorry, Is that Lasagna?”

“Yes, Honey. It is”

“Oh, God. Garlic Bread?”

“Yes, Honey.”

He looked back at me, “What?” I questioned.

“No wonder you look the way you do.”

“What?”

“Honey, you’re repeating yourself.” I didn’t need to hear that.

I watched him. If I thought I loved his smile, red cheeks, my moms’ lasagna, got him off. I didn’t even know if he had a mom. He didn’t.

Turned out I was the receiver. Who really fuckin knows. His smaller body hovered over mine, it didn’t feel weird. I was; well, I won’t say I was ready. But.

His green fuckin eyes looked down on me, I mean for a boy, another boy on top of you, I was ready. So… I thought. I honestly thought I was in charge; wrong on so… many levels.

I felt him, pre leaking, and then I really felt him. I had held Oscar in my hand never thinking about this. Fuck. I was excited. He looked down on me with those green fuckin eyes; “I’ve never done anything like this before, Tatum.”

“You say that like I have?” And I knew he was serious.

“It was a statement.”

“Well, it insinuates.”

“What do you use?” Just like that, he turned the conversation.

It didn’t dawn on me. He was asking about lube. I nodded to the bedside table. He was on his knees between my legs and slathered up that huge cock and then he looked down on me.

I realized I was in a submissive position and he was gonna squire me. “You have an awesome fucking body, Tatum.” I knew he was being honest.

“You can stop this anytime; you can throw me off.” I smiled knowing I could stop this whenever I wanted.

It felt weird, he went so… slow. I mean. He squeezed the head in and stopped. I knew there was a lot more to cum. He came in me, just his head in my ass and I felt his warm fluid. And then the slow push.

I could feel the liquid both lube me more and then being squished out. I don’t know how long it took, it felt like forever. When he bottomed out I came like never before hitting my face, chin, and chest. I just kept cuming.

I felt him again, he exploded so deep I think I could taste it. And he pulled back a little then pushed back in. “Just say stop, Tatum.”

I needed control and sat up, I pushed him back never losing what was in me; now I was on top and lost control. I fucked myself with him, rode the bat he carried, and came two more times.

It’s weird. Being on top of this much smaller kid, his eyes, and my greed. How he made me cum, his huge cock up my ass, and how he made me cum. There seems to be a time when both of you know it’s over.

As I slowly rose atop of him I realized just how big and long he was. I do know what freak out looks like and he was ready to have a major one. “Get off me.” I wasn’t ready for that.

“What???” And I saw a face I didn’t recognize.

“Get the fuck off me.” And this kid who was seventy pounds lighter than me launched my big ass off.

I watched him from the floor on my back as he found his clothes, dressed, and didn’t even turn to see me. I could feel him sloshing around inside me and leaking out at the same time. Talk about reflection.

I have no idea how long I was on the floor? I mean; I’m a fuckin football player. I couldn’t get it up for a girl who sucked my dick, got hard looking at the kid who limped, and he had fucked me. Well, I let him. NO. I rode his huge cock and he had made me cum from that.

I didn’t sleep. I saw him walk by as I folded myself into my Mom’s Miata. I stopped next to him, “Want a ride?” It sounded so bad as I thought about riding him.

He shook his head no and I drove away. Fuck. School sucked today. I am a fuckin football player and that kid with the amazing green eyes and a huge cock fucked me. That’s a lot of shit to think about when you’re eighteen.

He found me at lunch. “You shouldn’t have done that.” I was confused.

“What?” Like I said; I was confused.

“You never should have flipped me; I was gonna stop.”

“What???”

“I was gonna stop; it was wrong.”

“What?”

“You're repeating yourself, Honey.” That’s what my Mom said last night.

“It was way… wrong, Tatum. You raped me.” And then those green fuckin eyes.

“What??? Do you think I raped you? How do you figure?”

“I was going to stop; it was wrong. You were on top of me and I told you to stop.”

OK. Maybe I was having a hard time comprehending? I mean there was no way for me to wrap my mind around what he said. Rape? “You don’t get it, do you?” He asked.

“NO, I don’t.” I really didn’t.

“We’re boys. Just because we cum doesn’t mean we want it. I was gonna stop because it was wrong. You were on top of me.”

“Well, you proved you could throw me off. Why didn’t you?” I was getting pissed.

“Tatum, you are so fuckin hot. I thought maybe; I’ve never done anything that like that before.”

“There you go again. You think I have???”

“I didn’t say that. It didn’t happen the way; fuck. You just don’t get it.”

“NO. You don’t get it. I still have the cum you gave me in my ass.”

“I didn’t give; you took it.”

It was dawning on me now. I remembered him telling me no as I forcefully rode him through two orgasms’. The look when I pulled off and he launched me to the floor. The look when I stopped asking if he wanted a ride this morning.

“I’m sorry, Oz.”

“My name is Oscar, only my friends call me, Oz.” and he walked away.

I was a huge loser. I always thought rape was violent. What we did wasn’t; well, maybe it was. He didn’t scream, I wasn’t holding him down doing to him what I did to myself. He did give me something, a part I thought he wanted to do, but, I guess it was something I took.

I drove by him on my way home. I filled the tub and crawled in; it was hot. ‘I’m so… fuckin sorry, Oz’. I didn’t even feel it. I saw how red the water was, ‘I’m so fuckin sorry, Oz’. “Only my friends call me that.”