“Yes, Sir,” I confirm, but nothing happens.
“Do better.”
“Plea—” I stop and swallow because my mouth is already so dry. “Please, Sir. I want it just like we talked about.” This time I'm rewarded with another grind of Carey’s massive cock against me. “I want you to make me hurt, I—”
I’m silenced by his burning hot lips as they press against the shell of my ear. “In order for that to happen you need to open the door, Tek. Unless you want everyone on the street to see how much of a slut you are.”
Both his hands grip at my hips.
I turn my face so Carey can see how fucked up I already am for him, and reach for the handle.
As the door slowly opens inward, he gives me a predatory grin. “You gonna keep being a good boy, or do you want me to drag you over the threshold like a caveman?”
The truth is, I don’t care how it comes as long as I’m stripped of all dignity and used until my mind is clear and free. “I just want you to make me forget.”
Carey goes still.
“No,” he says, and it feels like a slap on one cheek and a kiss on the other. “I’ll take you to the brink, but I’ll never let you go… This time… This time I need you to remember.”
“Okay… Alright—I mean, yes, Sir.”
“And what’s your word?”
“F—” Like I’ve been punched, I falter. But it’smyword. I chose it. “Fireworks.”
“Good. Now, you know the last thing I wanna hear.”
I bite my lip to stay as present as I can.
“Say it.”
My stomach starts to swirl, but it’s not with dread or guilt. It doesn’t ache. It feels good.
It feels like freedom.
“Say it,” he repeats.
“I trust you.”
I can feel Carey’s lips form a smile against my skin.
With the front door open my lounge room is right in front of me, but, unsure if it’s by my choice or his, I remain still. Locked in this perfect purgatory of internal and external. I want the world to see us but I need to know what’s in store for me inside.
“Caveman it is,” Carey smirks before sinking his teeth into my neck. Then, as I gasp, he pushes me with all his strength, sending me stumbling forward onto my living room rug.
My foot catches, and I fall to my knees.
My hips jar, and my hands sting.
Looking over my shoulder, I watch Carey shut the front door, but not lock it.
When he turns back to me, he’s like a god; wiry and sun-bleached with a face made for trouble. And I just stay there, frozen, on all fours as he stalks towards me.
Grabbing my shoulder, he tosses me aside, flipping me off balance.
I shuffle back from him until I hit the wall, and he laughs down at me.
He tsks, “Pathetic,” And plants his foot in the center of my chest—his slipper still on, wet around the edges. All the dirt from outside is so close to my face, and I grunt as my body lights up with the purest, filthiest thrill I’ve ever felt.
