How it feels when you actually do belong to someone.
11
Niko
Niko, filming a video twenty minutes ago in the back seat of his car
Username: Dragonfly
I came for Oliver hours ago, but then I left. And shortly after, a reminder of my past came and erased every good feeling I felt.
I need an outlet now. So I’m hard again, trying to film a video, blotting out everything else in the world.
It’s different now.
It shouldn’t be, but it is.
My followers want more, more, more.
But every stroke I give my cock as I film myself, I’m thinking of Oliver. It’s like an obsession, looping itself around me tighter every passing moment.
When I come, I picture him taking it.
Picture him watching this video, too.
I want to know he craves me.
I want all of my videos to be for him.
Just a phase I need to train myself out of. Eventually.
I knowthe feeling of rage like a well-worn belt that fits me better than any other.
I keep my rage constrained.
Keep it caged like a goddamn tiger who’s slowly starved of food every fucking day that it isn’t let out.
That build-up of rage fuels me, reminding me that at the center of it all I’m a fucking animal. And when it gets under my skin I don’t behave according to any of the rules I usually set for myself.
Then sometimes, it explodes.
Detonates.
Like a couple of hours ago, when I found out my cousin had been threatened again and I had to channel my rage like a fucking targeted beam so that it didn’t spill out onto the whole world around me.
A situation I need to get under control… even more than I already have.
My day was going swimmingly well, getting fucked by Ollie and having it all on film. But after my shower, I checked my phone and saw a grim message from Sevan saying he’d been threatened again.
But I can figure out how to deal with Callum later.
But first,duty calls.
My lips on Oliver’s skin. The one thing that actually feels satisfying after the past couple of hours. I let my tongue slide out over the curve of his collarbone, and the way his breath gently hitches is a much better fuel than rage.
Tequila is helping, too.
I put a hand to his chest, just below my lips. He’s in a cream-colored collared shirt, and the material is fine and soft.
