I’m not convincing it right now, though. This is real. This is what everyone else around me was feeling while I was trying to pretend that no one was hot enough for me. Was I fooling myself by trying to turn it around on them?
The reality is that teenagers are assholes. I didn’t want the reputation that I couldn’t get it up. So the few times I thought I’d give it a try, I was a jerk right off the bat and told them that no one in school has ever been hot enough to get me hard. Would they be the exception?
It worked. I was difficult to impress, not a limp dick.
Something bounces off the bed beside me, and I jerk. Voss stands over me, amused. “Didn’t want to get naked for me?”
“Sorry. Just marveling that my cock is still hard.”
His amusement softens. He leans over the bed and undoes my pants for me. I watch his face as he shimmies them off my hips, bringing my underwear with them. I’m left in my shirt, feeling a little self-conscious.
“Look at you,” Voss murmurs. He kneels on the bed between my legs, making me spread them. Which feels even more awkward. My cheeks heat. “I’m so… amazed, honored, that you’re turned on for me, Brek. I don’t know why you chose me, but I’ll never take it for granted.”
The way his words make me feel choked up has me closing my eyes for a minute. Was that sappy? I don’t know. It feels sappy.
He comes down on me, his mouth on mine again, but immediately, he rolls us over so I’m splayed over him.
“Keep your legs spread like this, okay?”
I nod and try not to concentrate on what his hands are doing. Instead, I get lost in his kisses. The way my body feels against his. My cock, hard and throbbing against his, though we have his pants separating our skin.
Then his fingers are probing my hole. I don’t know why, but when he rubs me, a thrill of arousal shivers along my spine, and I groan. It’s awkward and weird and maybe a little concerning when he slowly, gently, presses a finger into me.
I think we both forget that we’re kissing, and our mouths just hover over each other as he explores. Deeper. Curling. Two fingers. Stretching. I grunt, pant, shudder.
But my shivers aren’t of disgust or even awkwardness. It feels good. The feelings of heat, drowning, soaring, and shaking fill me. The more he touches, the deeper he gets, the more I feel like I’m falling into a pool of screams, and they’re going to take me under until I’m one of them. Writhing in agonizing pleasure I’ve never felt before.
All because Voss taught me what the real use of a butthole is.
17
VOSS
I havea total of eight different buddy carriers for Axl. I’ve tried them all, and I think this one is the best. I like the way it crosses over my back and the way the thick strap sits on my hips, taking the weight of Axl. Not that he weighs a lot, but when you’re carrying that weight in front of you for an hour or more at a time, he can get heavy.
No, the irony isn’t lost on me. I don’t envy women carrying that weight on them for months at a time. It’s hard work. It’s tiring. And they get no breaks.
This has the benefit of Axl always feeling me moving around, so it’s kind of like I’m rocking him in a seat, but really, it’s just my natural movement. I can’t sit still.
I stop reading the article I have open when a headline pops up on another open browser that just refreshed.
Benjamin North disappeared from the coffee shop in Flagstaff two days ago. He stepped into a car and hasn’t been seen again.
Huh. I’m not sure what about the headline catches my attention, but I pull up the article to read it. He’s twenty-eight, a gym enthusiast, and enjoys kayaking. He works at the local youth shelter, is a loud advocate for human rights, and lives with two roommates in a house in the suburbs. His roommates reported him missing yesterday, after having not answered his phone for over twenty-four hours. Authorities are asking for any information to help locate North.
“Hmm,” I say out loud. The repetitiveclick-click-clickof the metal rings in my hand as I absently rotate them is the only sound. I’m not sure what it is about this article that bothers me. Maybe it doesn’t bother me at all. Perhaps it’s just a little close to home, which intrigues me.
Is someone hunting near the Estate?
I set the rings down and type in a quick search.Local disappearances in the past six months.
A short list appears on the law enforcement website. Three people. All within the last six weeks. Before that, there wasn’t one that hadn’t been recovered, though one was recovered in a body bag.
Is this concerning? Is three people in six weeks a number we should be concerned with? I change the parameters of the search to a year and find that over that year, five people had gone missing without showing back up. Their missing persons cases are still open. November 2021. February 2022. Nothing until two last month, and one two days ago.
Once more, I adjust the parameters to see about deaths in the past six months and find even more curious results. Over thepast four months, there have been nine unexpected, unexplained deaths. All at the hospital.
Patients who have gone in for nothing concerning, like routine procedures, or were recovering well from routine surgeries, have suddenly died.
