I entered the apartment complex and saw our normal security guard wasn’t in place at the front desk.
“Hello there!” the middle-aged man said as we came in. “Something I can help you boys with?” he asked, his face friendly and open. His hair was an ash color, cut short and impeccably groomed. His eyes were a slate grey color that twinkled at us.
“Um, no, I, uh, I live here,” I stammered. “You must be new.”
He nodded.
“Yup, name’s Jamison. Joe Wilson’s on vacation this week,” he explained. Joe was a sweet older man who didn’t really add much in the way of a security presence to the building, but always had a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on when your troubles got to be too much. I’d spent many hours with him playing chess and checkers as he managed the front desk of the apartment building.
“Joe doesn’t hardly ever take vacation,” I commented. “I hope he’s enjoying it.”
“I believe so, sir!” he said, “I believe he’s visiting Tahiti. It’s a magical place. Have you ever been?” he asked.
I barked a short laugh, thinking of Marvel’s Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.TV show, but Dreyven’s grip tightened on my arm until I winced. “Um, no. I’m Mason Cameron, 14B. This is— uh,” I looked at Dreyven, nausea swirling in my gut. “This is my…friend, John Dowling.”
Dreyven reached his hand out and shook Jamison’s hand. Jamison’s gaze changed slightly as he eyed the grip that Dreyven had on my arm. It grew colder, more steel-like.
“Everything okay there, son?” He asked, his gaze turning to me.
“Mind your fuckin’ business, gramps,” Dreyven said harshly, pushing us toward the elevators. “He had too much to drink on the plane.”
I stumbled at the shove Dreyven gave me into the elevator, but managed to keep from falling. We got off on the fourteenth floor. I'd been sharing an apartment with Lizzie for the last few years, but she was living with Everett now.
As we got to the door of the one place that had been my sanctuary, my only safe place in the world, I sighed. Dreyven took the apartment key away from me and unlocked the door, slamming the door open.
“Not bad, Mason, not bad at all,” he said, looking around the apartment. “Home sweet home…”
I tried to see it through his eyes. It was modern, clean and had lots of windows that looked out over the city. It was an open floor plan with hardwood floors everywhere. Beneath us, lights flickered as the late-night traffic wended its way between the downtown streets. There was an electric fireplace on one wall and my drawing studio against another.
The kitchen, dining and living room all shared open space specially adapted for Lizzie’s mobility challenges, while a hallway led down to the three bedrooms and bathroom.
For all its amenities, I couldn’t help but compare it to a cabin in Ohio, where a certain sexy Uber driver made me scrambled eggs and bacon…
“Earth to Mason, come in Mason,” Dreyven squawked at me. I glared back at him.
“What?” I snapped.
His hand flashed out and slapped me across the face. “Watch yourtone,bitch. I own you. You do what I say, when I say it, and the only questions you ask better start and end with asir, you hear me?”
I glared at him for a moment longer, but we both knew I’d obey. Anything, to protect my friends.
Dreyven flopped down on the couch, legs spread as he sprawled comfortably.
“C’mere,bitch,” he said. I moved forward a few steps, but it wasn’t good enough. He pointed to the spot between his legs. I reluctantly moved between them and shuddered. I had a pretty good idea of what he planned. He’d made comments all the way home about wanting to get my mouth on his cock.
My fears were confirmed a moment later when he said, “On your knees.”
I knelt, but the banked anger in my chest began to crackle. He unzipped his fly and pulled his thick, blunt cock out of his pants. The smell of him made me want to vomit, and I started breathing through my mouth so I could experience as little of it as possible.
“Oh, look at that. Good bitch, got his mouth all ready for me, hasn’t he?” he asked. He wound his fingers in my hair and pulled me toward him, the pain wringing a cry from me.
“Suck my cock, bitch,” he said, forcing my head down to his crotch and forcing his dick between my lips and down my throat.
I tried to pull away, but Dreyven wouldn’t let me. He forced my head down, cramming his dick into my mouth. I choked and gagged, more because of the smell of him than my gag reflex. I’d taken longer and thicker dicks in my mouth before, but the smell… it just wasn’t Lee’s, and my whole body knew it.
Just as he started pistoning his hips in and out of my mouth, a loud knock sounded at the door.
“Fucking Christ!” Dreyven exclaimed, tightening his hands in my hair even more, continuing to fuck my mouth as he spoke. “Go the fuck away!” he yelled.
