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“Want to fuck?”
My head swings down and around to face him. Did he really say that to me?
“Was that a joke?” I ask, surprised.
Kyson smirks because my answer isn’t a straight no, and it seems he knows my answer before I even do. He stands, steps in front of me, and offers me his hand. I stare at it, confused and unsure of what to do.
“Would you like to see how big my cock is? Because I know you’ve seen my brother’s.” I cough out a strangled sound, and then I place my hand in his.
I know this will change everything.
We will change.
Whatever it is we are, will change.
He leads me into the house, and it’s then I notice he has blood on the back of his hand. I go to pull away, but he notes the direction of my stare and says, “It’s my own blood from when I punched the fucking wall.” I check his knuckles, and there’s large scratches, missing skin, and dried blood.
“Why?” I ask, curious.
He ignores my questions and continues into the house, tugging me behind him.
We pass through the entryway and up the stairs until we get to his room. The door is already open. Kyson drops my hand as he enters, and I stop in the doorway, staring after him. He doesn’t bother turning on the bedroom light, but the light coming from his closet falls on his face, which gives me a determined stare.
“I want to fuck hard and rough; do you get it?” Kyson asks, turning to face me. He starts to undo his buttons slowly, all the while waiting for me to reply.
“Rough?” I squeak.
“Yes. I’ll be mindful of your back,” he states, pulling his shirt off. My eyes track him as he carries it to his closet and hangs it on a hanger. While his back is to me, he kicks off his shoes and places them in the rack before he removes his trousers, draping them neatly on another hanger.
And then he is standing there naked.
Kyson is tanned, his skin olive in complexion and very, very lickable. Not a hair on his back or ass. He turns, and I get my first glimpse of his hard cock.
“You can undress now,” he tells me.
I don’t. I continue to stare at him until he huffs and walks toward me. He reaches for my uniform and starts to undo the first few buttons. His fingers work quickly and meticulously until my bra is exposed. He reaches for my skirt and unties the side of it, letting it drop to the floor. Kyson lifts his hand to touch my bare stomach between the open halves of my shirt, then trails a finger down to my G-string, where he hooks into it before pulling very slowly and lowering to his knees.
“Maybe we can start soft,” he says quietly, and I can’t seem to find the words to answer him back as I gape at him. He lifts my feet, one after the other, until my underwear is on the floor, making sure when he puts my feet down that they touch the edges of the doorjamb so I’m spread wide open.
What is happening? I didn’t think I would be fucking Kyson anytime soon.
He is, after all, what some might consider too handsome. In contrast, I’m putting weight back on from not having enough food. And yet, the way he’s eyeing me, makes me think maybe I’ve read him wrong all this time.
No, that can’t be right.
He dropped me on my face.
He pushed me into the river.
Yet, he is on his knees, his mouth inches away from my unshaven pussy.
I need to buy a razor.
He doesn’t seem to mind or care though.
Kyson’s finger trails up my thigh until he reaches my center.
I feel myself vibrating with anticipation and need—it has been so long since I’ve had sex.
