And I’m supposed to actually THINK!?!
I run my hand through my hair and take a ragged breath. It’s all right, Shane. Calm down.
“Um, let’s start from the beginning,” I say, opening my book. Hunter nods and looks down at his paper. His name is printed neatly across the top. “How comfortable are you with factoring?”
The corners of that pouty little mouth turn up-that mouth that was against mine the night before-oh, Christ, it’s going to be a long night.
“I’m all right,” he answers, idly tapping his pen against the table. “Not great, but all right.”
I nod, trying to concentrate on something other than how close his legs are to mine under the table. Holy fuck, he makes me hot.
“Okay, then,” I reply. “Let’s go through some formulas.”
He smiles and places his pencil against his paper-
--and his foot on my thigh.
I freeze momentarily, but quickly snap back to reality. Did the flicker in my eyes let him know that I could come in my shorts if he so much as wiggles a toe? He just grins at me, like nothing is going on, and waits patiently for me to begin.
“All right, the point-slope formula is used when-OH SHIT!” His foot as moved from my thigh and is now pressing delicately against the bulge in my khakis. Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…
“Shane, is something wrong?” he asks innocently, tilting his head slightly. His foot is making slow circular movements against my painfully rigid cock.
I actually have to clutch the table or I might fall out of my chair. A low moan comes from deep in my throat. “I-I think we b-both know wh-what’s wrong.”
He grins, putting down his pencil. “Yes, we do.”
And with that, he slips beneath the table.
For a moment, I’m confused. I’m not exactly sure what to do. And then I feel his fingers on my belt buckle. Oh, fucking shit, he’s unzipping my khakis. He’s reaching his hand inside. He’s feeling around-
“JESUS!!” I hiss through my teeth, biting my lower lip.
I see the top of his head poke up between my legs. “It’s Hunter, but thanks for the compliment.”
Then my world-or my dick, more specifically, goes supernova as I feel his lips on me. Hot and wet, that’s the best way to describe his mouth. That fucking tongue of his. He flicks it over my cock, and it’s all I can do not to kick and buck wildly under his mouth. “Hunter…”
“Just enjoy it, Shane,” he whispers, the vibrations from his throat shooting straight up my cock.
The sound of my dorm room door opening pulls me quickly back to earth. I watch in horror as the door opens and Katrina, of all the FUCKING people walks in, her eyes red and puffy. “Kat?” I say in strangled voice. Hunter, meanwhile, has not stopped his ministrations, and I am fighting the urge to moan his name as Katrina looks at me and shakes her head.
“I came to bring back your stuff, Shane,” she wails, setting a box down on the table. What? Does she not see him under there? Does she not see him giving her soon to be ex-boyfriend the most incredible head of his life? This makes the situation much hotter.
“Oh, thanks,” I mumble, knowing that if I try to say any more, I’ll end up screaming Hunter’s name. I can feel his hair tickling the tops of my thighs as he bends over me, sucking me from base to tip.
“Thanks? Is that all you can say?” she shrieks, bursting into fresh tears. She stomps her foot, and I feel Hunter laugh. “That’s so typical, Shane. Goodbye, and have a good life!”
As soon as the door slams, I release a wail and push the table away forcibly, sending the box of mementos flying across the room. I can see him now, bent over my cock and sucking to save his soul. With a strangled groan, I lock my hands into his hair and guide him the same way I used to do Katrina. He adjusts quickly, and returns to his project, bobbing faster and faster on my shaft.
“Oh, fuck, Hunt,” I murmur, throwing my head back. The tighter my grip on his hair goes, the faster he bobs, applying suction at just the right times.
“Come for me, Shane,” he whispers, blowing across the tip.
That’s it for me. I feel myself tense just as Hunter recovers my cock with his mouth. I shoot my load, and he drinks me down until I am finished, at which point, I collapse back in my chair, breathing heavily. He goes as far as to give one final suck to make sure I’m all cleaned up and then carefully buttons my pants back up and rests his folded arms on my thighs. “Good?” he asks, already knowing the answer.
I nod breathlessly. “Goddamn. That was fucking intense.”
Hunter stands up, throwing his head back and sending that gorgeous hair flying over his shoulders. “There’s more…that is, if you want it.” He bends down so that he is face to face with me. I have the sudden urge to stick my tongue down his throat. “Do you want it, Shane?”
I nod weakly, not knowing what else to do. He smiles and kisses me quickly, and then heads for the door. “See you soon.”
And then he is gone, and I’m left sitting in the chair, not knowing exactly what the fuck has just happened.
!~~**~~!
I really hate the showers in my dorm. A flimsy curtain that could show you to the world and a douse of ice cold water is all I have to look forward to in the mornings. That’s why I shower at night. No one is there to bother me, and I have all the hot water I can dream of.
Tonight, I feel like an especially long shower. I can still feel Hunter’s touch on me. I am saturated by his musky scent. God, that smell-dark and rich and enough to choke me. My room still smells like sex and Hunter’s cologne though two days have passed. It makes me sick to stay in there for long periods of time.
I push open the bathroom door and find the place blessedly empty. I am wearing only a towel around my waist, and I drop it on the bench as I move to turn on the water. It cascades over me, scalding hot, but with nowhere near the heat of Hunter’s mouth when it was on my-
I grit my teeth. Dammit, why can’t I think of anything but him? What’s happening to me? Two days ago, I was a regular, ordinary heterosexual college student. I’ve never even thought about a guy that way, and now, I’ve had one suck my dick-and do a damn good job.
Am I gay now? Does one incredible blow job mean I want to bang guys? I have to admit to myself that it means something. I saw Katrina this morning. Every other day, I would get this tingling feeling just below my belt buckle-my body responding and remembering the way it felt to fuck her. This morning-nothing. Not a tingle, not a twitch-NOTHING. What does **that** mean??
I reach for the bottle of shampoo I brought with me and mechanically later my hair and rinse it. Dammit, soap in my eye. I bend under the water, vainly trying to wash it out. That’s when I feel those strong hands on my hips, grabbing me forcefully. For some reason, I don’t panic. Vague memories of prison jokes and the infamous “don’t drop the soap” line run through my head. But the word ‘rape’ doesn’t.
“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” the voice I already expect rasps in my ear. Shivers of electricity race up from my toes. Hunter crushes up against me, and I yelp quietly when I realize he is fully clothed.
“Ooh, I like that sound you just made,” he whispers, grinding the bulge in his jeans against my ass. It occurs to me that we are standing under the water-me totally naked, him fully clothed. Embarrassment floods through me. Almost as if he can feel it, Hunter’s grip around my waist tightens. He looks over my shoulder and chuckles, his lips against my skin. I look down, and I am surprised to see my cock already hard and waiting for him.
“Oh, Shaney, is that for me?” he asks, nibbling delicately on my ear.
All the reply I can give is a strangled groan which becomes infinitely sustained as his fist closes around my cock. Suddenly, he clamps his free hand over my mouth.
“Shh, my delicious little heir,” he rasps, sucking on my neck. “If you’re not quiet, everyone will hear, and they’ll want some. Frankly,” he pauses as he begins to pump my cock, “I’m not up to that kind of challenge.”
What the fuck is happening to me? My mind is racing, a million thoughts forming at once. He’s jerking me off in the shower, in my dorm, where anyone could walk in at any time. Why does this make me so fucking hot? Why am I arching my hips and begging for more? Why? Why? Why?
I howl against his hand as the suction on my throat approaches pain. He pulls back and chuckles again, never breaking the rhythm of his hand. The pressure is building. Oh, fuck. I’m going to come, and it’s going to be fucking sublime.
“Come for me, Shaney,” he growls. “Right now, come for me.”
And then he bites me-he fucking bites me-and hard! His teeth break my skin as I groan and my cum spills out over his hand. Oh, Christ, help me-I got off on being bitten. I collapse back against him, the soaked material of his jeans rubbing against my skin. He doesn’t release his hold on my cock.
“There’s still more, you gorgeous fucking thing,” he whispers, his lips against my ear. “I plan to wear you out before I’m done.”
Mercifully, he takes his hand away, and to my horror, he lifts it to my lips. I can see my cum still dripping from it.
“Taste yourself, Shane.”
Obediently, I stick my tongue out and lap at my own fluid. What the fuck am I dong? What. The. Fuck.
“See how good you taste?” He turns my head forcefully and kisses me hard enough to bruise my lips. “I can’t wait to taste you again, and you’re going to be screaming my name loud enough for the whole campus to hear. I promise.” He kisses my cheek and is gone.
I’m fucked.
!~~**~~!
I’ve never been so scared in my life. I found myself looking over my shoulder no matter where I go. I lock my door whenever I’m in my room. I don’t walk alone after dark. I live in constant fear and apprehension. I just know that when the one moment comes that I am not alert, I’m going to find myself with a dick up my ass.
So, why does that through thrill me so much? Why do I secretly, deep down in places I don’t talk about; why do I want him to fuck me, and fuck me hard?
It’s been a week since the shower incident, and I haven’t seen him since I walked out of the shower and hour after he left. I had to bathe again because I couldn’t very well walk back to my room with cum running down my leg. He left me with the most obscene hickey I’ve ever had in my life, and an open wound on my shoulder. That bastard bit the fuck out of me! I’ve got his teeth permanently imprinted on my shoulder, for Christ’s sake.
Katrina saw me the next day. When she realized what the hideous bruise on my neck was, she immediately burst into tears. For all she knows, what she suspected is true. There is someone else, but I’ll be damned-it’s a guy. That’s not even the worst part-I walked past a group of guys that Hunter spends most of his time with one day on my way to class. They too on look at my neck-and laughed their fucking asses off. Apparently, it’s his trademark.
Christ All Mighty. What have I become? I can’t stop thinking about him, or the previous two times he’s-serviced me. Why is he doing this? Am I his plaything? Does he enjoy making me live in this state of uncertainty? Goddamn. I can’t concentrate. I can’t sleep. I can’t do anything without thinking of him.
Laundry. That will do the trick. I’ll go do my laundry. The room is right down the hall. I’ll clean some clothes and read a book and relax. That’s the ticket.
Unlike with the showers, the laundry room is packed at night, so I go in the daytime. I walk through the door with my laundry basket beneath my arm, and a pocket full of change. Humming to myself, I put the first batch of clothes in the machine and set to reading a book required for English class. Twenty minutes later, the buzzer goes off and I hop down from the table and go to put the wet clothes in the dryer.
Because of the loud whir of the appliances in the room, I never heard the door shut and lock. I go to turn around and suddenly find myself with my back against the dryers, pinned by a solid body that I know is Hunter’s.
“It’s time, Shaney,” he growls, his lips against mine. “You ready for this?”
I shake my head. “No, Hunter. Please, I don’t want you to-“
“You don’t?” he echoes mockingly. I feel his hand against the tell-tale bulge in my sweatpants. “This tells me otherwise.”
“No,” I repeat, shaking my head. What am I saying?!? I do want it. I want his cock inside me, pounding and tearing me apart. I want it more than anything I’ve ever wanted before.
He squeezes my hardened cock gently, and slips his hand inside my pants. “Are you sure? I can make it so good for you, Shaney, and I have to admit, I really want to fuck you.”
The last part of his statement sends shivers up my spine. Oh, fuck. What am I supposed to do? He’s thumbing the head of my cock, smearing the liquid collecting there. A low gurgle comes from my throat, and I can feel my hips turning outward.
“Do you want me to fuck you, baby?” he asks, his lips brushing against mine.
Slowly, I nod, and in doing so, surrender to everything I never thought I wanted. He grins and kisses me, his tongue swirling around my mouth. He tastes so good, like hot liquid candy. It’s a tasted I think I can never get enough of, and I actually find myself responding and kissing him back.
“Good, Shaney,” he purrs, pulling his hand out of pants.
He is grinding against my, our equally hardened cocks separated only by the material of our pants which feels just about non-existent at this point. “I-I-“
Hunter kisses me, this time forcefully shoving his tongue between my lips. “Say it, baby. Say it.”
I barely hear my own voice and when I do, it sounds far away.
“I want you to fuck me.”
The smile that forms across his face is sickeningly victorious. Gently, he picks me up and deposits me on top of one of the dryers. It is whirring and vibrating beneath me, and his reasoning is clear.
“If you insist,” he drawls, kissing me again.
I tumble headfirst into bliss **g** as he pulls my sweatpants off, tossing them across the room. Next, he yanks my shirt up over my head. Modesty has to put its two cents in, and my cheeks flush.
“Fuck, Shane,” he growls, nipping at my earlobe. “You look so hot when you’re all embarrassed like that.”
My cock has started to ache. “Please, Hunter…”
He smiles. “Patience, gorgeous. All in good time.”
He pushes me back so that I am laying stretched out on the row of dryers. With amazing grace and agility, he jumps up beside me. The space is incredibly cramped, but the close contact is deliciously erotic. Hunter puts his hand on his zipper and pulls it down, intending to strip. I put a hand to stop him.
“It’s better with them on,” I explain when he gives me a puzzled look.
He grins. “You’re quite a surprise, Shane.” He dips his head to kiss me, sucking on my lip. He pushes his knee between them legs, urging me to spread them. I comply, but suddenly the natural apprehension of the unknown floods through me.
He places a comforting hand on my thigh. “It’s all right, baby. Just relax.” He lifts his hand and places his fingers against my lips. I suck them into my mouth, coating them with saliva-I might not have fucked a guy before, but I know what’s going on-the more lubrication, the less pain.
Leaving his fingers in my mouth, Hunter moves down and flicks his tongue over my hardened nipple, causing me to arch up off the humming dryer. My pulse is racing. My breath is growing short. “Hunter…” I say, pushing his fingers out of my mouth with my tongue.
“All right, baby,” he whispers. “Put your legs around my waist.”
I do so obediently, hooking my legs just over his hip bones. He grins down at me. “You have to relax. It’s going to be uncomfortable at first, but it gets better, I promise.”
I nod and take a deep breath. As I exhale, he pushes a finger into me. Holy fuck. Uncomfortable isn’t the word. My body jerks involuntarily at the intrusion. “Hunter…” I whimper, writhing under him.
“Shh…” he coos, moving his finger. “Just give it a second.”
And then it’s pleasure in its purest form. I groan and arch up off the dryer. “Oh, shit!”
Hunter chuckles. “I told you.” He moves his finger, teasing the sweet spot inside me and uses my momentary bliss **G** to slide another finger in. Now the pleasure is coupled with pain, making the former even sweeter. I moan and groan, making sounds I didn’t even know I was capable of making. And then he pulls his fingers out and I shudder.
He is lifting my leg, trying to get a better angle. “You ready, baby?”
I nod weakly, this assault on my body and emotions already too much. He strokes my thigh tenderly and I can feel the head of his cock against me. He grasps my cock with his other hand, stroking me into distraction as he pushes in.
It’s not so much paint as it is pressure-intense and blinding pressure that travels up my entire body. I find it difficult to breathe, and Hunter can apparently see my discomfort. He pushes in a little further and whispers to me. “Don’t tense up, baby. It’s gonna be wonderful in just a minute.”
I nod, telling him I understand. He takes a moment as my body is adjusting to leisurely and lovingly stroke my cock. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Shane.”
My cheeks flush with embarrassment again and he chuckles, the sound of it breaking into a thousand pieces and each of them dancing wildly across my skin. No one has ever called me beautiful before.
Suddenly, he is moving-sliding in and out of me slowly and gently. He groans with every movement, just barely brushing that spot that sends shivers up my spine. Unconsciously, I move against him, causing more of him to massage that spot for longer. The dryer is working against me, rocking him into me with a lazy rhythm.
He looks down and grins at me, speaking in broken, breathless words. “Shane…I want…gentle…don’t know…if I can…”
I nod slowly, tightening my grip around his waist to work him deeper. “Fuck me, Hunter. I won’t break.”
The growl of pleasure I hear is enough to prepare me. He places on hand on the small of my back, lifting me up gently before he begins ramming me.
Sweet Jesus.
What a fucking explosion.
I arch my back, suddenly no longer in control of the things my body is doing and feeling. Hunter’s impassioned and almost animalistic grunts and groans echo through the laundry room, accompanied by my soft whimpers and gasps and the whirring of the dryers.
“Oh, fuck, Shane,” Hunter grows, slowing his strokes. “You’re so tight and hot, baby. So sweet.”
I have always been turned on by talk during sex. It would drive me crazy with lust when Katrina would moan and groan and say things like “Cum in me, baby,” and “Ride me,” and other such things. This-these things Hunter is saying only intensify the absolute ecstasy he is putting me through.
His hand is back on my cock, stroking me with the same rhythm that he is pounding into me. I groan and wail with each thrust, trying to work against him, but finding it almost impossible. My strength is almost gone, and I can do nothing but lay there and watch him as he thrusts into me over and over.
Hunter looks down, then leans forward and kisses me hard, never letting up on his motions. “Cum for me, baby. I want you to cum for me. Scream for me, Shane.”
I fight against the release my body is begging for, trying to prolong it. He growls again and thrusts harder, smiling smugly at me. “Come on, baby. Don’t let me down. I wanna hear you scream.”
He slows the strokes on my cock as he picks up the pace in the other department, practically moving me up the row of dryers. I can’t take it any more. I let out a long, loud wail of his name as my release floods out of me. I don’t think I’ll ever stop cumming as Hunter growls one last time and shoots his load into me, the feeling of it filling me up only driving my orgasm longer. He pants and tries to catch his breath, still inside me, then picks up his hand and licks it free of my seed, then bends and does the same on my stomach.
“That was fucking incredible, baby,” he whispers as he leans down to kiss me.
I put my arms around his neck and sigh happily, kissing him back. “It was…” my voice trails off as he silences me with another kiss. I can only lay there as he slides off the dryer and zips his pants, then bends and takes me in his arms, resuming the kiss he broke.
“I have to go, baby,” he whispers, his lips trailing along my throat. I can’t say anything, my mind still reeling from what has just happened to me. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
I nod slowly, pushing his hair off his forehead. “Thank you.”
He smiles brilliantly and kisses me again. “No, thank you.”
After another moment of kissing, he is gone, leaving me to lay there and try to figure out what the hell I’m going to do now.
!~~*~~!
I roll out of bed the next morning, incredibly sore, but more sexually satisfied than I have ever been in my entire life. I can hardly contain my excitement when I realize that I’ve got algebra class to go to. Everything inside me screams to run and find him, but I know better. That would make me look like a fucking idiot, something I already feel like deep down inside.
For some reason, I look at the world differently as I muddle my way through class. Everything has changed. I know I’ll never go back to the way I was before, and I don’t want to. I can’t lie to myself about what happened. I can’t lie to myself about who I am. If nothing else, Hunter has shown me that I’m not everything I thought was, and I’m some things I never even considered.
I get to algebra fifteen minutes early, a first for me, you can be sure. I keep strumming my fingers on my desktop, watching the door anxiously. My heart is pounding in my ears, and my heart is racing uncontrollably. What the hell has this guy done to me?
I keep watching the door, hoping the next person to come in will be him. After ten minutes, I have a strange feeling that he’s not going to show. This isn’t unusual. Maybe he just decided to skip class. But that isn’t like him. I am worried.
After class I screw up enough courage to go and ask the teacher if he knows where Hunter is. I lie and say that he forgot his book in my room last night while we were studying. The teacher gives me a strange look.
“Oh, didn’t you know? Mr. Helmsley transferred yesterday. He won’t be coming back.”
And I think in that instant, my world actually starts to shut down.
!~~*~~!
Ten years later…
I don’t remember much about the rest of my college days. I got through them as though nothing had changed, but inside, I was going crazy. Not so much as a word, or a letter, or a phone call. Hunter storms into my life one Tuesday night, and he’s out of it again a month later. I felt used, and ultimately betrayed. I didn’t know what I was feeling, actually. Whatever it was, it made me feel weak and powerless, and that’s not something a McMahon is taught to deal with.
So now, I spend my life sitting behind a desk, working for my father the way I always knew I would. I concentrate on things like budgets, and commercial spots, and corporate sponsors, and I don’t give much thought to anything in my past. I find that it makes me nostalgic, and nostalgia has been the downfall of many a great man.
“Shane, could you come in here, please?” my father’s voice crackles through the intercom. I groan and straighten my tie as I head toward his office. I hate meeting new talent. They act like I should give damn about them, when really, I could care fucking less. I breeze through the doors to my father’s office, putting on that cool, nonchalant air that I’ve perfected, but I am stopped dead in my tracks as I walk in.
He’s standing in front of me. Holy fuck, he’s standing in front of me. The face I’ve tried to forget for the last ten years. The body I’ve tried to erase from my memory for the last ten years. The voice that I tried so hard to forget ever hearing is now saying my name.
“Hey, Shane,” Hunter almost growls, a pleasant look on his face.
The gall. The absolute and fucking gall he has. “Hello, Hunter.”
My father’s face twists to one of surprise. “Oh, you two know each other?”
Hunter stares at me as he answers. “We went to school together for a while. He helped me pass algebra class.”
Vince laughs, nodding his head, oblivious as to what is going on between his newest employee and I. “That’s my boy. Always was good at crunching numbers.”
Hunter laughs, all the while keeping his eyes on me. I can’t help myself but to think about what he looks like without any clothes on. He looks the same even after all this time, with that same sparkle in his eye that drove me crazy.
Neither of us hears anything as my father starts talking. We’re just lost in each other for the time being, and when the meeting is over, I literally run to the hallway, my heart racing inside my chest. I have to fight the urge to throw myself from the top-story windows.
“Shane…”
His voice bounces off the glass windows and hits in me in the face, threatening to knock me down. I turn, knowing that when I do, all the anger and resentment of the last ten years is going to come flooding out.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, looking at me with wide hazel eyes. “I don’t know why I did it, but I did, and I can’t go back and change it. I can only just hope you forgive me for it, and we can try to be friends, or at least be civil to each other.”
I take a deep breath, everything inside me screaming a million different things at once. What the fuck do you say to something like that? I sputter for a response and find only that I can’t even speak. He smiles softly. “Articulate as ever, Shaney.”
I have to smile at that. The anger and resentment-everything that had turned me into a cold hearted bastard, melted away, and I was left with just that feeling that I’d always had for him, the one man who showed me what I was when I didn’t even know it.
“You know, I think this building has a washroom in it somewhere,” I say, heading for the elevator as he follows behind, not too closely. “Want to go down and do some laundry?”
!~~**THE END**~~!