Miracles aren’t something that happens to people like me. I kept waiting for someone to say just kidding! However, it’s been long enough that I can admit this is real.
I don’t trust easily, especially not a reaper who is hanging out in the cemetery, waiting for someone to die. It seems like a weird hobby to have, if you ask me. Yet, Bane seemed to love hunting for souls to reap, and was excited to take mine.
Until, he chose to make a deal with me to heal my cancer. Why am I special enough to receive this gift?
I’m a boring person with a normal job, who had the hottest sex of my entire life three weeks ago. I don’t know which part of this is more insane, but I can’t deny what science told me.
I scheduled an appointment with the doctor soon after I spoke to Bane, asked them to run scans because I wanted a second opinion, and walked out with a clean bill of health.
In fact, the doctor couldn’t explain what had happened, and said that I was a medical miracle. Again, I don’t believe in those.
My ‘miracle’ is shaped like a tall man with wicked lips, dark eyes, and a sarcastic humor. He immediately made me want him, and I lost my damn mind when he teased me about being in the cemetery.
Nothing gets me harder than being demeaned and shamed. It really is a rough kink to have. I once had a male supervisor yell at me, and I almost creamed in my pants. I can’t imagine what I’d do if I spent any extended amount of time with Bane.
I would absolutely lick his boots to be called his dirty, good boy. Fuck.
Somehow, in the dark of night, I made a deal to cure my cancer and then had an orgasm while bent over a tombstone. My hand wraps around my hardening dick, and I hiss as I begin to stroke myself. Ever since I found out I was dying, I have been pretty depressed.
Now, I have a new lease on life and I want to enjoy every second of it. My way.
I’m not going to start joining crazy clubs, or doing all of these things outside of my comfort zone.
I will try new foods, or go to a restaurant I’ve always wanted to go out to despite it being expensive.
I have a life to live! That is, right after I rub one out. I’m a red blooded man with needs, but the only person who can service them isn’t even human.
My head drops back as I moan, the soap I rubbed all over my body helping my hand to glide over my cock. The memory of how Bane felt buried in my ass making goosebumps ride among my skin despite the warm water from the shower, and my ass clenches.
Moaning, I remember how he hit my prostate perfectly. I’m not sure who solidifies their deal with evil the way we did, but I highly recommend it. It’s a memory I’ll remember for the rest of my life, however long that is.
I ignore the price for the deal, instead focusing on how hot Bane was. I’ll deal with the fallout whenever that is. I’m young, healthy, but fuck do I miss that bastard. His hair, his Devil may care attitude, and the way he filled my ass with his hot cum.
“Fuck!” I gasp, my cock jerking in my hand before I find my release. Ropes of my cum explode out of me, and I have to lean forward as it continues to shoot out of my dick.
It hits the shower tile as evidence of my insanity, before being washed down the drain by the water. It’s like it was never there, but I know what I did.
This is wrong, I shouldn’t be thinking about the reaper who gave me a clean bill of health, and I definitely shouldn’t want to see him again. Blowing out a breath, I rinse off the soap and turn off the water, needing to start my day.
It’s been like this ever since I met Bane, and I can’t explain it. I’m irrationally horny, but only for him. This doesn’t seem like a good life choice, yet I can’t help myself.
Shaking my head, I dry off and pull on my favorite jeans with the holes in them, a pair of boots, and a t-shirt I’ve had since I was sixteen. Why throw it out when I love it and it’s still functional?
Letting my hair air dry, I grab my shit and head outside to work at one of my favorite coffee shops. My job gave me apromotion yesterday to work remotely, and I grin at how happy that makes me.
I hate being stuck in the sterile environment of an office, but I do enjoy my job. They also gave me a raise, which is another stroke of luck. It’ll give me the money I need to be able to continue to eat out for lunch instead of going home, and I’m even planning a new tattoo. My family will also be happy to hear that I’m doing better, and I’ll send them what’s left over each month now.
I never told my work about my diagnosis when I found out. Instead, I just had a pity party for one and went to scream at the cemetery.
Morbid? Yes, but I also met someone incredible who changed my life. God, I cannot be crushing on an actual murderer.
“Get a grip,” I mutter to myself as I walk to the coffee shop. My backpack is slung over my shoulder as I tip my head up despite the dreary gray day. It doesn’t matter though, because it’s another day that I’m alive.
I’m going to make the best of it.
It’s been three weeks since my encounter with Bane, and every day feels like I stole it. I suppose, in a way, I did. I took back my life, and now I’m just basking in the deliciousness of the contraband of each day.
Someone opens the door for me at the coffee shop, and I thank him as I walk inside. He’s cute and has wavy blonde hair and bright green eyes. I don’t think much about it as I pass by him.
