Title: Unintentional Intentions
Author: Eros494
Summary: Micheal Clayborn runs an errand for his wife that ends unexpectedly.
Characters: Micheal Clayborn (OC) and John Allerdyce
Fandom: X-men
Rating: M
Warning: AU, Child Molestation, Adultery, Violence, Adult language, angst
Author: This wasn't supposed to be a X-men fiction at all, but I couldn't resist having John (Pyro) be the store clerk at this mini mart. Including him into the story changed it completely and I think made it a better story. Enjoy!
Finished: August 10, 2007
Word Count: 3, 960
Unintentional Intentions
Micheal's intentions had been innocent. A simple trip to the grocery store in the dead of night to buy a loaf of bread for his frantic wife had been foremost on his mind as he drove to the town's mini mart. His foot pressed harder on the gas then he would have normally, given any other day. A nervous twitch of his hand on the steering wheel made maneuvering the car around the tight twist and turns of the highway that more stressful on his aching body.
It was thirty degrees outside the car but inside the moist air was smothering. Wiping his sweaty brow he rolled down the window a bit to let in a cool breeze. Closing his eyes for a second as the wind brushed against his face he refocused on the task at hand, though his brain was focused below his belt. He was hard. He was horny. And he wanted to fuck.
But tell that to his wife.
A woman, after twenty years of uneventful married, had figured it best to eat before "fulfilling his needs" in the bedroom. "I'm hungry," she had said. "I can't get in the mood when I'm hungry."
Tell that to his balls that were now swelling painfully inside his jeans. Tell that to his bulging erection that was fighting to burst from his boxers and spew cum inside his pants. There was so much unrelenting pressure on his dick he was sure he'd lose control of his mind, his common sense, maybe even control of the car that he was driving a tad too fast in an attempt to get back to the house and "fulfill his needs." But after eating first…of course.
Teasing the speed limit by going sixty-five in a fifty-five zone he made it into town with his dignity in tact, though his morals were slowly seeping away with every second he wasn't pounding his dick into his wife's warm, wet ass.
Finding the mart was simple. He'd made numerous trips to the store during his day.
Usually he would stop and say hello to the store's manager; linger just a little longer in the ice cream aisle, tempting his buds while eyeing a box of Marble Slab. But not tonight. He couldn't have found his target fast enough.
Snatching the loaf of 100 wheat bread from the shelf he moved to the check out counter and stood in line behind a couple of teenagers, a boy and a girl, rubbing and massaging each other's asses as they were waited on. A small smirk quirked the corners of his lips as he watched. He knew exactly what they would be doing afterwards. Who could blame them? A quick look at the girl's mini skirt that just barely covered her ass was temptation enough for any man to want to fuck her brains out. What he wouldn't give to be in the boy's position. "Uhm," he moaned, shifting on his feet as the couple moved away. The girl looked over her shoulder at him and smiled knowingly. His cock involuntarily jumped inside his pants and he moaned again, though quieter than the first time.
Fuck!
His eyes didn't leave her until she disappeared out the door. He moved up in line and placed the bread on the counter.
"Will this be all for you sir?" the male cashier asked taking the loaf of wheat bread and scanning it across the red light. Micheal turned his attention to the boy instead and his heart stopped.
Before him stood another teen, maybe sixteen to eighteen years old. He was tiny in size, thin, slim, with brown hair that reached just below his ear. His gray eyes bore into his own with that innocence you only found with people that hadn't crossed that sexual barrier yet. Like a virgin. A tight ass fucking virgin.
He nodded in response and fished inside his pocket for his wallet. Pulling out a five dollar bill he slid it onto the counter and waited.
The boy's cell phone rang. "Sorry," the boy murmured as he turned away to take the call.
"No, go ahead," Micheal said waving his hand nonchalantly. The boy nodded and took the call. Holding the phone between the side of his face and shoulder he crossed his arms and toyed with a silver lighter.
"Yes."
"What do you mean you can't pick me up? How am I supposed to get home?"
A pause.
"You know I can't call my parents. They live in another state remember!" A short pause.
"Bryan, please. I know you're job's important but you said you'd pick me up…I know you're working for the both of us…yes, I love you too…"
So, he was gay Micheal noted as he fingered through a magazine. Interesting.
"The store's closing now. Fine, whatever, I'll hitch a ride!"
-Click-
"Sorry about that," the boy said turning back toward the counter. His face now flustered, he began bagging the bread.
"No problem. Um, sorry for eaves dropping, but it seems you need a ride. I can help if you want."
The boy looked at him suspiciously and shook his head. "No, I'll be fine. This isn't the first time I've walked home."
"But it's freezing out. You sure?" The boy locked eyes with him for a moment and shook his head. "No. But I don't want to be any trouble."
"The pleasure's all mine. I'm Micheal by the way," he said holding out his hand for the boy to shake.
"John," the boy said taking his offered hand. Micheal smirked and gathered his grocery bag. "I'll wait for you outside. It's the black Mercedes."
John grimaced and nodded.
"What am I thinking?" Micheal asked himself as he slid inside his car throwing the loaf of bread into the back seat. Slouching down he gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles paled with strain. I'll just take him home, then go home myself and fuck my insipid wife.
Even as he thought this he noticed how lackluster it sounded. Sure, he was attracted to his wife, had been even before he'd married her, but their sex life, if you could even call it that, was fading. He wanted it, she didn't. It was hardly ever the other way around.
His sex drive was very high. He was only 35 years old and considered himself to still be young, his wife too. Though she was two years older than him she seemed uninterested in sex to a point where he'd end up masturbating in the bathroom in the middle of the night after uneventful foreplay where she'd complain about being too tired to continue.
What sort of woman would give up a nine inch erect cock to sleep? His wife would obviously. Maybe he didn't know her quite as well as he thought. For all he knew she could be a lesbian. Tonight, as he sat in the car waiting for John to jump inside, any story that explained why he didn't feel guilty about wanting to sleep with another person was plausible enough for him. If thinking his wife was gay took the guilt away than he'd believe it. Hook, line and sinker.
He didn't know how long it took for John to join him inside the car. What he did know however was that his cock seemed to come back to life at the boy's appearance.
"Ready?" John nodded.
"Thank you by the way."
"It's no problem. Where do you stay?"
"Elm Stone Suburbs. Do you know where that is?"
Micheal's heart jumped into his throat. He knew exactly where that was since that's where he lived. He didn't tell that to John however "Yeah. I think so."
Pulling the car out of the parking lot he wheeled them onto the seemingly quiet streets. They rode in silence for a bit until John began talking more to himself than to him.
"I can't believe he chose his job over me. After all I gave up to be with him…what a jerk off!"
"How long have you been dating?"
Micheal turned and caught the boy's gaze and waited. "Oh, um, he's not my boyfriend. He's paying me to sleep with him. I'm, uh, a prostitute," John said looking away.
Micheal coughed and almost swerved out of the road, but he quickly gained his composure and gripped the steering wheel to steady the car. "Oh!"
"Does that bother you? I can get out if you don't…"
"No, it's fine. Wait. How old are you exactly?"
"Sixteen." John stared ahead of them into the darkness before he continued. "I only do it for extra cash. Minimum wage doesn't really cut it in this town," he murmured, his voice low.
"True. Where are your parents? Do they know?"
"No, my dad's dead. My mom and step dad have their own family now. I…didn't fit in so…"
Michael stared ahead and nodded. "So, you're 'friend'. You're going to his house tonight?"
John nodded. "Oh, okay!" He was stunned beyond belief. John was the prime example of those you couldn't judge by outside appearances alone.
They fell into silence for a moment until John pulled out a lighter and began clicking the cap open and close. The light tick it made broke the silence for a while. Soon a light glow replaced the ticks and looking down, a tiny flame caught Micheal's gaze.
"If I could get a car and get out of here I would" John mused. "I don't have enough money to buy one and it's too hard to steal one with so many prying eyes watching my every move. You don't have that problem. You're probably filthy rich aren't you? Me. I'd kill to get out of here." Micheal nodded though he was barely listening. He bit his lips nervously. It was hard to ignore the fact that the boy's voice had lost that innocent note and had been replaced by a mature, suave, tenor. He looked at him and saw that the boy looked into the flame with something like adoring amusement as if fascinated by the dancing, flickering flame. Since the boy wasn't looking he veered off the road onto a dead end road and continued on.
"So, how much are you worth? If I were interested," he asked bringing his focus back to the deserted road. He hoped he didn't sound excited though naturally he was. How many people went to the grocery store for bread and picked up a prostitute instead? He felt John's gaze on the side of his face and though it irked him a bit, it excited him more so.
The flame extinguished, John shifted to his side. The entire right side of Micheal's face goosed as the boy's warm breath brushed teasingly against him. "It would depend on what you wanted," John whispered. "Hand jobs are thirty. Blow jobs fifty. Fucking me would depend on how big your cock is," he pouted, the nasty words sounding unusually natural flowing from such young lips. "The bigger your dick, the higher the price." John seemed to purr in his ear and Micheal could literally feel his wallet getting lighter with each passing second. "Why? You interested?" John growled settling back into his seat.
"Maybe," Micheal said lifting his foot off the accelerator and pulling to the side of the street. They were at the outskirts of the town and suburb at this point so fear of being seen was minimal. "I'm sure you could use a few bucks in your pockets. Right?"
John sat back and shrugged. "Couldn't hurt. You do remember I'm sixteen?"
"The younger the better," Micheal said lustfully. He was hot again. He wanted to fuck. He could literally picture how tight this boy's ass could feels clasped around his nine inch cock. He could literally hear his balls slapping against the boy's naked behind. Licking his bottom lip he switched off the engine and shut off the lights just in case someone happened to drive by.
They were thrown into complete darkness.
"How much do you have?" John asked as he leaned over to remove the man's shirt, throwing it carelessly into the back seat. He leaned further still until he straddled Micheal's lap. John hunched against his aching cock, reached down beside the seat and grabbed the seat release. The seat fell backward leaving the older male breathing heavily as he lay on his back.
"A thousand in hundreds," Micheal confessed weakly as John dug his nails into his naked chest and scratched downward. "Ahh, fuck!" he hissed. John smirked, though Micheal couldn't see obviously. He bent so his lips were beside the man's ear and whispered. "Tell me what you want."
"Fucking everything." John half smirked, half pouted as he kissed the man's hairy jaw line and suckled his bottom lip. "All right. Give me the cash first." Micheal huffed and dug into his pocket for the wad of hundreds and slapped them into John's hands. "There."
A faint glow from the boy's lighter shone for a moment as he counted the bills and then was extinguished. "Okay!" he said moving to the side.
Micheal hurried and undressed, removing pants first then his pre-cum filled boxers. His dick sprung up like a jack in the box as soon as the silky fabric was gone. He waited patiently as John did the same and once the boy straddled him again, his tiny thighs pressing tight against his hips, he grasped the boy's waist and squeezed.
"I want to cum buried deep inside your ass," Micheal groaned as John moved his hips over his cock, spreading the man's sperm between his thighs.
"How would your wife feel about that?" John mused.
"Fuck her. She's not worth shit anyway," he yelled before he could stop himself. John chuckled. "She's worth a lot more than you think," John whispered to himself.
"What was that?" Micheal asked.
"Nothing. Should I suck you off first, or afterwards?" John asked as he gripped the man's cock and pumped his hands up and down the length. "Um, afterwards," Micheal whimpered. His hips involuntarily jerked at the sensation John's hands brought him.
John obliged. He raised his hips up a fraction and slipped the man's cock tip into his ass, but too his surprise he didn't have to descend. Micheal lifted his hips and slid balls deep into his ass, sending chills of welcomed pleasure through his thin frame.
A sharp intake of breath making him dizzy as he rocked his hips back and forth and in tiny circles riding Micheal's nine inch cock into oblivion. The tighter and faster he rode the more pre-cum seeped inside him until he was literally dripping with sperm. It slid down his thighs and when he rose a little too far up and Micheal's cock slipped out, the man's cum squirted unto his back and ass leaving a milky trail from his lower back to his ass.
John dropped his head, closed his eyes and spread his thighs wider as he rose to the tip and back down, Micheal's hands guiding him all the while. Micheal had never felt anything like this before. Never. The sounds John made as he rode him in earnest brought him near breaking point until his body shook and gave and his seed oozed into the sixteen year old's ass in a steady stream of pure bliss.
"Fuck, I want more," Micheal growled. It was addictive. Like a drug addict, he needed another fix. John would have asked for more cash but given the situation and the fact that he, himself wanted more, he nodded. "From behind this time." Micheal nodded. After getting into position Micheal slid in again and thrust so deeply and fast that John had to grip the side of the car to keep from going head first into the back seat. When they both climaxed and Micheal pulled away John sat with his bottom in the air, his head resting on the seat with his leg's spread as Micheal left them, the remnant of sperm flowing freely down his thighs.
After a few moments of welcomed silence Micheal sighed. "I need a cigarette," Micheal said into the darkness. He moved away and reached inside the dash board and pulled out a pack of Camels. "Give me a light?"
John, body still shivering from the release, nodded and grabbed his lighter and struck it casting them again in eerie light. As Micheal smoked John began to dress and once finished counted his money again. The whole thousand was there. It was more than he would have asked for but he didn't complain.
John looked outside the car into the darkness and saw nothing. Not a street light. Not a car or any other signs of life for that matter. They were completely alone.
He looked at Micheal who sat smoking lightly on his cigarette; his eyes closed and his head resting lazily on the passenger side window. The flame of the cigarette was the only light in the tiny car.
"Does your wife know where you are?" John asked. Micheal glanced at him and nodded. "She knows I went to the store. Why?" John shrugged. "We're not on the main high way are we?" he asked looking around once again.
"Nah," Micheal said getting nervous now. He hadn't expected the boy to be so observant. "I turned off about a half mile back. I know where we are though so don't worry."
John cocked his head to the side and shook his head. "I'm not." He pulled his lighter out and began toying with the flame.
Micheal eyed the boy with raised eyebrows before putting out the half smoked Camel and dressing. "I'll get you home before curfew," he joked. John half smiled, half pouted again and shrugged. "I'm gonna get some air before we get going." John climbed out the driver's side and slammed the door behind him. He seemed to disappear before Micheal's naked eye but that was before a tiny bulb of light began to dance around the car. He followed its path until it reached the passenger side and stopped.
"John?" He began to dress more quickly. "John, is that you? The darkness outside the car seemed to have thickened all of a sudden. But could that happen? Could it really get darker than pitch in a matter of seconds? He struggled into his jeans when there was no answer and climbed outside into the cold, the light from before no where to be seen.
This was the last time he volunteered to give someone a lift. He thought as he strained his eyes against the impeding darkness. "John, where the fuck are you?" he asked again. He walked around the car, keeping one hand on the car so that he wouldn't lose sight of it. But that was dumb, seeing as he couldn't even see the fucking car.
His heart began to race. He needed light.
As he neared the driver's side with intentions to flip on the headlights, another faint glow of fire light began to waver eerily in the distance. It was tiny at first but then it began to grow in intensity, like a torch sprayed by an aerosol can. He watched in horror as the fire drew near. His common sense told him to get in his car; to get in and get as far away from this place as possible. He should have listened to his common sense, but his feet seemed to have a mind of their own. The stayed planted where they were.
"What's going on…?"
"I didn't want to do this Mr. Clayborn," came John's low, tenor voice in the distance. He could barely hear the boy's words over the gusty howls of the rough winter winds, but he was sure the boy had spoken his last name, his last name which he didn't remember telling him. He strained his ears again as the boy continued. "I didn't want to do this but I have no other choice."
"What are you talking about?"
"Your wife's a prostitute Mr. Clayborn. Has been for two years."
"What?"
"I'm sure you've been wondering why her sex drive is so low these days. It's because another guy has been fucking her brains out for two hundred buck before she gets home. I've even fucked her. She's a nice piece of cunt if I've ever…"
"Shut the fuck up," Micheal yelled, his heart racing now. Everything he was saying had to be a lie. There was no way Gabby could be a…a whore. She was just…no longer interested.
John cackled menacingly to himself. "You'll have to face the truth one day," John continued. He moved closer and so did the fiery ball of light though it seemed to move of its on accord. Micheal noticed. Was that possible…?
"What do you want from me? What have I ever done to you?"
"You're a pervert Mr. Clayborn. You're a fucking child molesting pervert who deserves every fucking bad thing that happens to you."
"Wha…what?"
"Remember Bryan? My lover. That was your wife calling to make sure you'd arrived. She knew you'd had enough of her excuses. That call was a ploy to insure that you'd help me and that I'd get you alone. There's no Bryan, there's no house on Elm Stone Circle, and I'm sure as hell no prostitute though I figured what the fuck. I might as well fuck you since it'll be the last piece of ass you'll get before…"
"You're lying. My wife wouldn't…she doesn't know anything about this."
"I'm afraid she does. She's tired of your shit. And rather than go through a messy divorce she paid me to get rid of you myself so she'll receive your life insurance money. She'll have your money and I'll get the car as payment so I can get the hell out of here. Remember. I said I'd do anything to get out of this town. Kill even…"
Micheal was speechless. He didn't want to believe what he was being told but John seemed so sure. There were no hesitations between his words. They were spoken truthfully, honestly…And his wife was a part of it all.
She was no lesbian. She was a fucking murdering whore.
"Take the car if that's what you want. Just leave me alone. I won't say anything about tonight. I…I'll pretend this night never happened."
He could see the boy clearly now and what he saw frightened him into silence. The glowing fireball levitated in midair right above the boy's fingertips. It neither touched nor burned his skin and as he watched it seemed to grow under the boy's ministration.
He was controlling the flames. How?
"That's not good enough," John cackled. "I have a cut in that cash as well you see. I'm profiting from your death as well."
"Please. I'll never molest another child. I promise. Spare me…please!" he screamed as John moved closer. His gray eyes seemed to turn black before his very eyes. "Please! Someone help me!" he whimpered as he stepped backwards and fell onto the cement. "Don't. Please!"
John smirked and shook his head and with a flick of his wrist the flame engulfed Micheal's body. His screams pierced the air like a siren of warranting death that no one heard. No one except John who was inside the car and down the street before the ashes of Micheal's burnt corpse simmered and blew away in the winter night's wind.
An innocent errand to the store had turned into a ride of pure hell and the only cliché sign that a man had died on that road was the blackened cement where his body had burned and the dead end sign at the end of the street.
