Blinded

Seven years later





A lot has happened since that day. Although I am hesitant to say it changed my entire life, that day did set in motion the first of numerous dominoes.

How should you feel after something like that happens to you? Should you lock yourself inside the house for ages, never leaving your tear-soaked bed? Should you develop serious psychological trauma that renders you unable to trust strangers and make new friends? Should you lose the ability to laugh or feel sexual pleasure? I must be suffering from a severe case of self-deception because I haven’t experienced any of those things.  

Sure, after my release from the hospital I wasn’t exactly skipping around giggling, fucking every guy that came along. I was very depressed for a while, but the main reason behind it was not from the physical or sexual abuse, but from loneliness. It had everything to do with Charlie going to prison. I don’t hate him because of the wounds he left. Time heals all wounds, after all? You know, I’m probably a fool for believing what runs counter to good sense, but somewhere in those layers of rage, treachery and jealously, I know there is a good person. How’s that for disturbing?

I hate Charlie because he made me realize that he truly loved me, just before he pulled out his get-out-of-jail free card… which ironically involved prison time. Although Charlie may have thought imprisonment was the most just action conceivable, from my perspective it was the most selfish. For me, it was like being given an instruction booklet for an appliance model that no longer existed – the crucial information came much too late and the object in question was out of reach. Sometimes I get so unnerved that when I hold that fucking letter in my hands I want to tear it to shreds and burn it…

…but then I open it and read the words and its potent power is unleashed. That parchment can calm winds, cease rainfall and bring forth sunlight to dispel storm clouds.

About three years ago, Martin decided he was tired of playing second fiddle, packed his bags and left Andy. I swear Andy didn’t even notice his apartment was more spacious until days later. Undoubtedly, he left because Andy and I were getting too close. And Martin was right because a year after that we became lovers. It was wholly unfair, but seemed like a natural progression – in reality, I think Andy just wanted to protect me.

I haven’t told Andy, but some time before we moved east I tried to visit Charlie in prison. I must have circled around the block in my car ten times before I worked up enough courage to even step foot inside that horrid place. I waited for hours, but he never came to see me. Not even a message from the guard. The next week I was on a plane and memories of Charlie grew more distant. Still present, but distant. In the new city I started life as a graduate student, while Andy – an already established artist in his own right – had no problem selling his paintings to galleries and private owners.      

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It’s dusk. I return home after my run. The autumn air feels nice against my warm, sweat-covered skin. Andy must be in his studio – he tells me he bought this house by selling only two of his paintings. I tell him not to forget the dozen sexual favors.

I wrap my arms around his waist while he paints, resting my chin on his shoulder. I kiss behind his ear.

“I could paint that.”

“Fuck you.” A dab of forest green here, chartreuse there – I really don’t get abstract art. “I’m thinking of starting over. Not enough depth…”

“Andy, it looks like a blob made of vomit.”

“It’s supposed to be express struggle, the play of light and shadows and… oh… it’s a vommity blob.” He sighs, putting his palate and brush away, turning his head to kiss me. “How was the run?”

“Good…but I’m all sweaty now though… and horny…” I grind against him.

“And I’m covered in oil paint…” He turns to face me, our lips and tongues caressing. My hands are mischievous.

“Ya know… I hear dirty sex is really hot.” His hand reaches into my shorts, which do nothing for the imagination, grabbing hold of my semi-erect cock with his paint-covered hand. Soon our hands are unable to leave each others’ bodies and the next thing I know I’m pressed against the wall with my legs around his waist. He doesn’t seem to mind the taste of sweat on my skin. I wish I could say the same for paint.

Eventually, we decide this variety of sex is too impractical and that we should both clean up first. We fool around in the shower – jerking, sucking, fingering – but it ends before either of us finish. Our lips don’t seem to part on the way to the bedroom – it’s like a funny form of spinning dance.

We’re on our sides, each of our members in the others’ mouth. I twirl my tongue around the head of his cock, then poke the slit, making sure to look at him while I do it. Andy likes that. His cockhead is probably the most perfectly-shaped I’ve ever seen. My lips are wrapped around it now, bobbing up and down. He’s sucking on me now too, with equal suction. A lubed finger enters me – I moan, gradually swallowing his cock all the way to the hilt, only to take it out and repeat again, painfully slow.

“Don’t you dare touch it…” I narrow my eyes at him, but he strokes his finger against my prostate. I sigh in ecstasy and my cock throbs inside his mouth – I can tell he’s smirking even though his mouth is full. To get even, I take his cock, all of it, into my mouth again and hum, my throat vibrating against the sensitive head. I put my hand on his thigh to feel it quiver. He likes it. We continue on like this until he pulls my cock out of his mouth, breathless.

“I’m gonna cum soon.”

“Me too…”

We resume fellating each other, with me jerking him at the base quickly. We both ejaculate into each others’ mouths at around the same time. I don’t quite know how to describe Andy’s cum, kind of like salty lime zest with undertone of chlorine. I keep it in my mouth and we share a nice long, semen-glazed kiss. Apparently, mine tastes like cherries and petroleum. Minutes later, after the first endorphin rush, we’re both hard again. I put a condom on him and lube up his cock as well as my hole. Having been already stretched by his fingers, he enters me without any difficulty. I moan and arch my back upward.

“Mm…fuck me Andy…fuck me deep…” I pull him down on me, kissing him while my eyes stare right into his. His thrusts become firmer but not any faster, making sure his hips make contact with my ass each time. Soon, he’s sitting against the headboard and I’m riding his cock while my tongue is down his throat. The heat of his body is tantamount to mine. He pushes my shoulders forward so that he’s on top now. We kiss again.

“I want you to cum in me…” He’s panting. His eyes widen a little.

“Are you sure?” I nod my head without hesitation. Andy pulls out and peels the condom off, touching the tip of his cock to my entrance. I hold my legs up for him. He feeds his cock into me unsheathed, melting into me. His eyes close as this deep groan comes out from his mouth. He pushes all the way to the hilt.

“Mmm… fuck that feels good.” He starts moving his hips with the same rhythm that he’s jerking me with, gradually getting faster until he’s virtually slamming into me, each thrust fucking stars into my vision. Andy grabs my hips, pulling them up, pounding.

“Fuck! I’m gonna cum!” His thrusts become shorter until one final one, before he empties his load inside. I can actually feel his dick throb with each hot, internal spurt. I’m biting my lip, so turned on by this that I lose it as well, grinding my ass against him while jerking my cock. Cum pools on my stomach, some pearls even forming on my chest and neck. Andy collapses on top of me. His skin feels like the surface of an iron, but I could care less. I close my eyes and soak in paradise.

“That was fucking hot –“

“No talking while you’re still inside me.” I smile.

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Three years later





I’m running away…but to where or what? I’ve departed my wonderful kingdom to be scratched and nicked by thistle and hawthorn. A strange glow radiates from across the ravine. I fear to cross that boundary…

But I leap anyway…and a watery void welcomes me.

My eyes open suddenly. I frown – I’ve had that same dream for weeks now.

Andy’s face comes into focus. He always looks like the aftermath of a localized typhoon in the morning. I can’t help but smile at this comedy and shift over for a snuggle, wrapping my arm around his torso. He’s warm, naturally. I lean up to put a kiss on those lips. I knew then that this was going to be one of the last times we’d be like this. He awakes soon after. Our eyes meet in long stasis. Neither party utters anything.

“We’re breaking up, aren’t we?” I nod my head, while it’s still on his chest. He holds me.

“Are you mad?”

“Oh, about as mad as when you ditched my art show to fuck around with that closeted jock.” We both laugh. Andy refused to talk to me for a whole week. After he couldn’t stand it anymore he approached me one day at my locker and all he said was “He better have been enormous.” And that was how we made up.

“I’m sorry…”

“To be honest Marky, I don’t think we were ever meant to be a romantic couple. Soul mates yes, lovers no. Plus, you’re really bad in bed.” I glare at him, then punch him in the arm lightly. “Payback for the heartbreak.” We both stare at the ceiling for a while, like there was anything interesting about it. .

“Still love him don’t you?” I look down, not wanting to see Andy’s expression. “Those long, forlorn gazes from the window aren’t for the mailman Marc. I know I can’t stop you from seeing him when the time comes, but I’ll never forgive him for what he did to you.” He holds me tight, his voice trailing off. He shifts down so that he’s at eye level, making me look at him. He kisses my forehead.

“Half of me wants to protect you and the other half wants you to be happy. I’m not sure if there can be a happy medium, but… I’ll always be there.”

“You’re gonna give me cavities. ” I kiss him on the lips, and although I had every intention to keep it platonic, it manifested into a full-out snogfest. He winds up atop me.

“What do we do now?”

“Well before we have a dramatic fight for you dumping me and I throw all your clothes out on the street, maybe we could have sex one last time for good measure?”

“Kay”

 

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BronxWench – Thanks for the heads up. I’ve added the citation.

PhiloSophe – Sorry for the delay. It’s comments like yours that keep me going. Oh, I like your name.

Isabel Dreamland – I can’t thank you enough for all your thoughtful reviews. They're fuel for the flames.