He’s right, of course. Seven and I are not normal people.
Other Guy stuffs his underwear in a pocket and slings his shirt over his shoulder, and then, like so many others, he’s gone with the slamming of a door. Unlike the others, he didn’t come first, but when three’s a crowd, someone always ends up with a broken heart. Or in this case, a serious case of blue balls.
“Were you going to let him come inside you?” I question.
He shrugs. “I wasn’t thinking that far ahead.”
“You never are.”
“If it makes you feel better…” He stands up at the side of the bed. “I only wanted this to prove a point.”
“Please enlighten me.”
“That look on your face when you saw me take his dick in my ass? That unmistakable expression that was written all over your face like a sad pop song? I needed to know that I was yours.”
“What makes you think I won’t throw your ass out next?”
“Because his dick was never actually inside me.” He lowers himself to the floor on his hands and knees. “Because I am yours.”
He crawls on the floor with hisass arched, but before he can reach me, I stand up and rip the curtains closed. When I turn back to him, he’s on his feet. He throws his arms around my neck and shifts his body against mine. I reach around and slip a hand beneath the string stretched between his ass. Circle a finger around his hole, sloppy with spit but otherwise as tight as he’s ever been.
“Get on the fucking bed,” I command. “Now.”
He backs away slowly, not taking his eyes off me until his legs bend at the edge of the mattress. He rolls onto his stomach, arches his ass in the air, and slinks the thong down his legs until they fall to the floor. I approach with a handful of spit, slick my cock a few times, and then spit at his throbbing hole.
His fingers curl into the sheets as I reach him, and when I press my cock over his opening, he pushes himself backwards, impaling himself on my thickness. I do my best to hold still as he sinks around me, inch by inch, until I hit that magical spot that makes him take the Lord's name in vain.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” he groans into the pillow.
I can feel every part of him stretching, adjusting. Can feel every drag of his organs as I pull out slowly, threatening to turn him inside out in the process. It feels so wrong, like it should be scribbled somewhere as the eleventh commandment. Feels so fucking good. Bare like the absent gods intended. Natural and feral. Animalistic.
I latch ontohis hips, hold him firmly in place. He squirms beneath my touch, trying to rip control back from me, but he’s no match for my strength. I think about fucking him harder than ever before. Think about fucking him until he can’t walk. Think that maybe this is my way to prove a point to him, and I don’t need another man interfering to make mine.
But then I think a slow and steady pace will give him more time to think about his decisions.
The restraint it takes to fuck him slowly requires more strength than jack hammering into him. I shudder with every careful thrust. Shudder every time he groans into the pillow when I hit that spot, over and over again.
“Say it,” I command. “Tell me you’re mine.”
“I am…”gah.“yours.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“I’m fucking yours,” he gasps as his asshole tightens, gripping me like a fucking vice. He shuffles forward, spending himself onto the sheets. I, too, unload, shooting load after load, until I’m spent completely. And then I keep on fucking him, slow and steady. Watch as my cock sinks in and out of him. Watch as a buildup of creamy jizz coats the entire length of my shaft.
When I’m done playing with my favorite toy, I pull out and slap his ass. And then I watch as he climbs off the bed, grabs his bag, saunters into the bathroom, and closes the doorbehind him. I tuck my cock back into my boxers and take a seat on the wooden chair in the corner.
In the silence that follows release, I’m left alone with my thoughts. After I escaped Kevin, I made myself a solemn vow to never be the person who stays again. Seven is a light in a world that’s long gone dark, but even the brightest star can’t light the way when the shadows are this thick.
Of the millions of ways to break a heart, this has to be one of the most depressing, because there’s literally nothing he can do to save me. Nothing he can do to make me stay. He’ll fight like hell, scraping and clawing at whatever thread of hope he can latch onto, but it’ll never be enough. He’ll blame himself for the rest of his life, desperately wanting to know why he wasn’t enough. And there’s nobody in this world, nobody standing in his corner, to convince him that it wasn’t him. It was me.
Yeah, the world only makes sense in short bursts of ecstasy, and in the silence that follows, I find clarity. Maybe that’s why all I can do is fuck. Maybe that’s why I keep on fucking even after I’ve come because I know what’s waiting on the other side of release—the relentless shadow of the ghosts I need to forget.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The pounding at the door snaps me back to reality.
I make my way to the door and swing it open. It’s Other Guy. “Did you forget something?”
