Teenage Dirtbag Sequel
Chapter 5
by Granate
Duo and I hitch a ride with Beau to the bar. We cram into the back seat
with the same guy from the truck. Beau drives like a normal person off the
racetrack. I'm not sure if I'm relieved or disappointed. At the bar, their
friends have a section reserved in the back. Full beer pitchers and pilsner
glasses cover every available flat surface and several people are already
standing around chatting, full glasses in hand. Duo is remaining very close to
me; the dynamic between us almost has that "couply" feeling.
"This stuff is horse piss," Duo warns me of the beer in the pitchers. "I'll
go get us something better to start." He leaves me to go to the bar and I hear
the bartender greet him by name. He comes back with two bottles and hands one to
me. More people arrive and he leads me around making introductions. He calls me
an old friend in town for a visit and doesn't mention that I'm really here to
steal him away, which will definitely improve my chances of survival tonight.
In an hour the place is packed. There are mostly men, but more women than I'd
expected, most of them wearing denim or leather or some combination of the two.
I receive everything from curious glances to being chatted up and openly hit on.
I guess a new face sticks out in this bunch. It used to make me uncomfortable
when girls singled me out, but I've gotten used to it. Duo joins me and two new
lady friends after being away for a bit talking to someone else.
"Why, Yuy," he says with an amused grin, "are you flirting with Leslie and
Tina over here?"
"Maybe," I say secretively as I finish my third beer. Actually, I was. A
little bit. I can be charming when I want to, although most people probably
wouldn't believe it.
"You were!" he teases and pokes me in the side. He leans in and whispers in
my ear, "Don't make me take you home early."
"Hey, no secrets, Duo!" one of the girls protests.
"I just said that it wasn't right of him to keep two beautiful girls all to
himself," Duo says smoothly.
I'm glad he such a fast thinker because I wasn't about to answer. His words
reminded me what I'll be doing later on tonight. Or more accurately, what he'll
be doing to me later on. I'm nervous about it, but mostly not in a bad way. I
know he was just teasing, but it is still nice to know he hasn't had a change of
heart or found someone else he'd rather go home with. His playful possessiveness
tells me he also wants to make sure I don't think about going off with someone
else either. He's got nothing to worry about. Nothing at all.
Our ladies pull us onto the tiny dance floor. Duo is a funny dancer. He's got
rhythm, but he's kind of bouncy and wild. He's fun and his energy attracts a lot
of dance partners. I give it two songs before I beg out and go sit down. Unlike
him, I am not comfortable being the center of attention. My unfortunate partner
joins her friend and Duo. After a bit, he sits down next to me at my high table
in the corner.
"Having fun?" he asks. I answer to the affirmative and he asks me, "You don't
mind staying kind of late, then?"
"Sure," I say. It makes me wonder if maybe he's decided to come with me to
Florida and this might be his last party with these people. I feel guilty about
that, but I can't help being excited too. I have a shot. I have a shot with Duo.
We stay until it is just his core group of friends and colleagues. Everyone
is very nice and welcoming to me. The alcohol is flowing freely and so is the
conversation. They are more drunk than I, so making small talk is blissfully
easy. Sometimes, I don't have to say anything at all, just nod.
Duo is finally ready to leave and we catch a cab back to his place. I know
the look he wears and I know for a fact I wear the same one. He doesn't try to
kiss me, but his hand is on my knee during the ride home. It slides just a
little farther up and I feel a stirring in my groin. I've been dutifully keeping
my libido at bay and it's about to have its revenge. In the elevator, we kiss
uninterrupted all the way up to his apartment.
We part to get in the door, which conveniently gives my excitement just
enough time to become nervousness when I remember my promise to him. I still
don't know if I'm ready for this, but I was certainly ready to fuck him last
night and fair is fair. I will not back out of this.
"I had fun today," I tell him, "thanks for the ticket."
"Good," he grins. "I had fun too. You're hot when you flirt, you know. You
have a great smile."
I smile for him then, mostly out of embarrassment. His hands come to rest on
my face and he kisses me. Nothing more is said and our clothes are shed on the
way to the bedroom. We stand naked by the bed kissing for a moment before he
pulls away and backs up. Without a word, he pulls his braid over his shoulder
and tugs the band off. I watch his hands and he watches my face as he unravels it.
When it's free, he flips the mane over his shoulder and shakes his head a few
times. I'm speechless. He steps forward to kiss me again and I instantly bury my
hands in his hair as our mouths meet. Need stabs through me, catching my breath
and tearing my insides apart.
He leads me to the bed and pulls me down. He does not try to get on top of
me, we lie side by side and kiss. It's nice that he's trying to ease me into
this, but it's really not necessary. I roll onto my back and pull him over me.
He responds assertively, shoving his tongue in my mouth settling heavily on top
of me. This doesn't feel so new. I used to like it when my girlfriends would
take control in the bedroom now and then, I wished they would do it more often.
It's thrilling to feel someone else's intense desire for you. Maybe I need a
more aggressive lover, one who will take control from me sometimes.
I stroke his thick hair as we kiss. It falls over us like a curtain, spilling
into piles on the sheets. The strands have a red and gold shine in the dim
incandescent light from the lamp by the bed. He sits up a little and tickles my
jaw with the end of a lock of hair.
"It's gorgeous," I whisper. He gazes down at me, not appearing to have heard me.
"So are you," he says finally, "I want to remember the way you look right now."
He doesn't give me a chance to ask him to explain that before he kisses me
again. All questions dissolve from my mind as he spreads my legs for access to
my cock. His hand feels so good. It was difficult to be near him all day and not
touch him, but I guess I should get used to that. Thought is blurred again as he
sucks my neck and bites my earlobe. His fingers cup my balls and explore the
area. It feels good, although it tickles a little when he touches my entrance. I
surprise myself by not clenching or feeling nervous about it.
Only when he stops kissing me and moves lower do I begin to feel nervous. He
must be able to feel it.
"Just relax," he murmurs as he licks a nipple. He sits up a bit and gets the
lube before moving both hands to my dick. I groan a little and close my eyes. He
lubes a finger and when he touches me, I get nervous again. I can't help it.
It's impossible to will your body to relax. The whole idea is an oxymoron. Since
I tend to be a little uptight anyway, there is no chance of relaxation, depsite
how horny I am and how much I want this mentally.
"You ok with this?" he asks from between my legs.
"Yes," I answer.
"You tighten up every time I get near."
"I know," I sigh. "It's ok if it hurts a little."
"Heero…" he frowns. "You don't have to."
"I want to," I say firmly.
"Just because I did doesn't mean you have to," he reminds me.
"Duo, I want this," I say as I sit up. I run my fingers through his hair and
look in his eyes. "I want you, here and now." I kiss him and he returns it twice
as fierce. His aggressiveness returns whatever amount of arousal I lost to
nerves. His hands are all over my body then, one thumb settling on my nipple and
the other hand clenching the hair at the back of my head as he devours my mouth.
I want this. God, I want him. I want to give him everything.
I break the kiss and get onto my hands and knees. "How about like this?" I
ask. "Will it be easier?"
He is silent for a moment, probably staring at my presented rear. "If you're
ok with that," he answers.
I shoot him a look over my shoulder. "I suggested it, didn't I?"
"Fuck, Heero, you should see yourself…"
"I'd rather not," I say wearily. I feel his hand slide up the inside of my
thigh and all thought is lost when his fingers caress my sac. I moan his name
and sway just slightly. He teases me with his fingers and mouth until I don't
notice the first finger pressing against my entrance. My body resists
reflexively when the pressure is increased, but is then distracted by him
fondling my balls again. A breathy grunt escapes me when his finger pushes
inside. It doesn't hurt as he wiggles it around gently, searching.
When he brushes his target, my whole body seizes and I see absolute white for
a second. When it passes, I make a long, shuddering moan that I wouldn't have
recognized as mine in a million years.
"That's it, Heero," he says thickly. "Just wait, it'll get even better." I
have no reason to doubt him.
He inserts another finger, and my walls are tight around his digits. I try
not to think about how his dick will fit in there. My mind is wiped again when
he finds my prostate for a second time. He stretches and massages the entrance
before withdrawing completely.
"Nnn, Duo," I groan in that unrecognizable voice and stretch back toward him.
I hear him opening the condom and putting it on. He rubs some lube on and I cry
out from behind clenched teeth as he wipes the extra lube on my stiff cock.
He gently pushes me onto my back and doesn't give me time to think before his
slick fingers enter me again, rubbing lube outside and in. He rises up over me
and lifts my legs. We brace ourselves as he positions himself and nudges into
me. The opening resists him, but he remains steady. He groans loudly when he
head is all the way in.
"Fuck, you're tight," he pants, "is it ok?"
"It's ok," I gasp out. That's not exactly the truth, it does hurt. I almost
wish he would just do it fast.
"You sure?"
"Don't stop," I demand. He is almost all the way in now and when he is, he halts.
I close my eyes tightly. The stretch, the filling, the slide, the slick
hardness of him. It doesn't feel wrong to let him inside me, to allow him to
explore even my darkest corners. I feel nervous, timorous almost, to let him
know me this way, even though I want him to. I feel my face flushing hotly with
arousal and insecurity. I have never felt myself laid so bare before anyone in
all my life.
He kisses me and I open my eyes when he leans back. He is still, unmoving
inside me, and looking at me so intensely. His indigo eyes are dark and blurred
with desire. I wrap my fist in a lock of his hair. He feels this and strokes my
thigh with his hand. It's shaking as he clutches my skin. He must be feeling
everything I was feeling last night.
"Move, Duo," I whisper plaintively, and he does. He rocks up and down and I
begin to feel the pleasure in this. He moves in and out gently, continuing the
rocking motions. There is very little pain now, or maybe more accurately, it is
eclipsed by the pleasure.
He pulls out half way and pushes into me faster this time. I inhale sharply
and my body instinctively moves to meet him. I gasp loudly and arch off the bed
when he finds my prostate again. I knew it would feel good, but this…
"Oh, Heero," he groans as he thrusts in and out of me, "God, baby, you feel
so good!"
I feel a twinge in my stomach when he calls me 'baby'. I don't think anyone's
ever called me that before. It makes me feel… I don't know, it feels intimate.
It makes me feel like he's gonna take care of me, and God, is he ever.
He's trying to tell me how good I feel, but can he possibly know how
incredibly fucking good I feel right now? I think I'm trying to tell him, but
all I can make are choked and strangled cries that sound vaguely like his name.
It feels like the crash of a wave or a sudden crack of thunder every time he
fills me, faster and faster. He knows where that spot inside me is, and he
strikes it with a regularity that makes me want to just throw my head back and
scream. I fully expect choirs of angels to appear from the ceiling and sing in
heavenly 16-part harmony, trilling high C's when I come. Which won't be long.
If I weren't so out of my mind right now, I would probably be thinking about
how stupid I look, thrashing and jerking under him, moving my body in any way
that might feel good. My arms go from straight out, clutching the sheets, to
gripping headboard, then squeezing his shoulders, and then I don't even keep
track. His breathing has become all out panting, and I can barely focus enough
to appreciate the flexing muscles of his neck and shoulders. My gaze wanders
farther and I can see his abdomen contracting as he drives into me.
"I'm gonna make you come," he rasps, "I want to make you feel everything I
felt last night." I see him reaching for my aching erection. He tugs it
clumsily, but hearing him say that is like the magic switch for me. He strikes
my prostate twice more and I am gone. I don't hear any heavenly chorus, in fact,
I don't really hear anything. I barely hear him shouting my name over the sound
of my own pounding heart and the blood rushing through my ears.
I don't remember him pulling out, or feel him wiping me off with the towel I
don't recall him removing from under me. My mind finally decides to return to my
body when he kisses my parted lips. I realize too late and he's gone before I
think to return the kiss.
Oh my god… what is he doing to me? Does he even realize it? Is he doing it on
purpose? Oh god, if I had to go back without him now… I remember feeling the
same after we had sex last night; that it has to be him now. If he turned to me
tomorrow and said, "Sorry, Heero, not interested. See ya 'round, buddy!" I think
it would crush me. Maybe eviscerate me, leaving my insides here and sending me
back empty and hollow.
I turn onto my side and pull my knees to my chest. After such an unparalleled
orgasm, I shouldn't be feeling like this. But he's in me now, literally and
figuratively. He's become inescapable. Jesus, does he know how much he's made me
need him?
The light goes out and I feel him get back into bed and curl behind me. It's
funny, I realize I've never been spooned before. Sure, I've spooned, but never
been spooned. His chest against my back and his soft breath on my neck comfort me.
"What are you doing all the way over here?" he whispers into my ear, arms
encircling me, "You're not regretting anything, are you? Was it bad? I thought I
was reading you right, but…" He just lets the sentence trail off.
I laugh bitterly in my mind. Regret. The pleasure? No. The intimacy with him?
Certainly not. I do not regret letting him fuck me, but perhaps I regret
becoming so damned vulnerable. I guess I'm confused and lost because everything
is happening so fast. I've only been here two days! Matters of the heart are
never so immediate with me.
I realize I haven't answered his question. "No regrets here," I whisper in
response and pull his arms tighter around me. Thoughts drain from my mind as it
registers how exhausted my body is. I lean back against him and let myself drift
into sleep.
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