Nervous is an emotion you feel before a drivers test. On a first date. Preparing yourself for a performance at a talent show. The emotion that I felt was not nervousness; it was pure anxiety. Did I really want to do this? The thought kept nagging in the back of my mind as I made sure the house didn't look like it had suffered God's wrath. After all, the business could be sketchy. Suppose I open the door to the barrel of an Astra A-60?
I go in the bathroom and check myself. My hair is straight and neat, perfectly falling over my bad eye. I couldn't find any trace of acne in my hairline, where it was always worse. I looked like a decent, 23 year old man who had a slight emo influence on hairstyles. I scruff up my hair a bit then deciding it looked better before and combing it with my fingers. He never liked it when I studied my face. I was just a doll for fun, playing was more important than the quality of the toy.
I lean away from the bathroom mirror and shake my head violently - no. I would not let myself think about this now. The wall I'd built to protect myself was eroding, falling to the sharp memories. Gripping the sink I steady myself until I stop shaking. I stay like that, determined to not succumb to a panic attack. When I hear a knock on the door I sigh with a relief. Whoever had come, came just before I could start to cry. I walk through the living room and open the front door.
The young man standing there is almost exactly what I had asked. Too young looking to be called beautiful, pretty suits the bill just fine. Fair skin, hazel eyes. The straight, unnatural posture and unsure eyes tell me he's inexperienced. At least I wasn't the only one. He's an inch or so smaller than me. His clothing is a tight gray t-shirt and boot cut jeans. He's the opposite of him, except for his hair colour. His hair is a deep black, three white stripes on the right of his head. The white stripes made him distinct, though they were slightly strange, I'm grateful they are there.
He takes a card out of his back pocket and hands it to me. The shiny plastic is new and says his name is Kid. There are no indications of STDs, which is some reassurance. It says his age is 22, a year younger than me, but he looks more like a teenager. I reach for my wallet and pull out what is probably more than double the cost and hand it to Kid, along with the card. He nods and puts them both in his pocket.
We stand there, not knowing what to do next. Kid's hands tremble slightly, scared if I will abuse him. I don't want to beat him, as many others would do to callboys. I wanted to manipulate his body in a way pain didn't exist. I wanted both of us to feel pleasure that shouldn't be humanly possible. I wanted to feel needed as a lover, even if he was a whore and our situation was just a pity fuck.
I pull Kid's arm gently, leading him to my bedroom. He follows without resistance. I had never thought that I would actually get this far, but the pulse I feel through Kid's skin somehow keeps me from stopping. I pause in the doorway, reassuring myself for a final time that I was actually doing this.
Kid stares at me with wide eyes. I hadn't realized how large and softly coloured they were before, similar to that of a doe. This gives me confidence as I lean in to kiss him. His lips are soft and thick, slightly chapped. He freezes in surprise before fumbling to kiss back. It's long and slow and deep and I can feel myself being sucked into it. We lean away only air is absolutely needed, breathes light pants. I quickly strip myself of my blue plaid jacket before connecting our lips again. I wrap my hands around his neck and close any distance between us.
Less than five minutes together, and Kid has made me more content than he ever did.
Kid's hands entangle in my hair, pulling down to him. He pushes us to the bed. We never break apart our bodies until Kid is comfortably straddling me. We rid ourselves of upper body garments and I admire his body. His chest was toned and shaven. If there is a mark or bruise on one side, it is on the other. I take note of this as I lead my head to his neck, sucking on the soft skin. Kid's breath shakes for a moment and his eyes close to were they're not quite open but not quite shut. My hands ghost his sides, earning a shivered gasp that makes me smirk into his neck.
"Y-Your." Kid manages. I drag my tongue from his left shoulder to his collarbone. Kid had an intoxicating smell, something masculine yet fruity, that made him seem irresistible.
"Your na-name." I lick my way to his temple and plant a small kiss near his ear.
"Zek." I whisper. Kid nods and guides our heads back together. He licks into my mouth, getting acess to play with me a little. I shiver as his tongue slips away from my lips to my cheek, the wet muscle circling on the skin. I don't realize he's lifting my hair until he stops his movements. I can't move in fear. My eye was visible, the angry red and scratchy skin trailing down my eyebrow and curling right by the bridge of my nose. I'm terrified if Kid will ask what happened. If he'll pretend it doesn't exist. If he'll twist his face in disgust.
Kid carefully cups my cheek in one hand and traces the scar with the other. He doesn't look at me in shock, but as a doctor would a patient's injuries.
"Normally I'm not one for asymmetrical features." Kid says. "But this does suit you well." I stare at him, unknowing what words could possibly speak my thoughts. I suddenly have an urge. Kid isn't some slut off the streets I'd paid anymore. I wanted to make love to him, a prostitute whom I knew nothing about. A prostitute who could understand me better than an abusive boyfriend ever could.
I push my lips against his, taking permission he had no preparation for as I curl my tongue around his. A shivered gasp escapes his mouth as Kid completely shuts his eyes. My hand sneaks around to the hem of his jeans and tug lightly. Kid doesn't protest as I slide the material down to his knees, my hands tracing the curve of his upper leg, skin only hidden by the fabric of his trunks.
His face flashes through my head and I quickly pull apart the kiss to reassure myself that I am alone with Kid and no one else. Kid doesn't question my actions and instead takes the opportunity to slide out my belt and unzip my pants.
Thank God I had thought of it before, the lubricant and condoms were on the nightstand. Even imagining having to get up and get them is cringe worthy. I reach for them, distracted by Kid's fingers hooking around the back of my pants and pulling them down. My hand grips onto the cardboard box and I shake a piece of latex out. I shake my pants off, which were around my ankles, thanks to Kid.
I grab Kid under the ass and pull Kid close to me, chests touching. I flip our positions to where I'm on top and he's on the bottom. All I can say is that I got us out of our underwear REAL fast, our bodies exposed to one another. I can't help but notice every inch of his body. The shape of his hips, his now messy hair, the sweat beading on his forehead, the small whines and moans escaping his mouth. I don't know when he transformed into a hot god, but I love it.
I slide the condom over myself then reach for the lube, smearing some on the head. Kid wraps his arms around my neck, and the moan that leaves him by a thrust is silenced by my lips on his. Our erections slide against each other for a second, hip bones meeting. Kid's legs wrap around my waist and he falls onto the bed.
"Fuck, yes." Kid moans. I pull out and thrust into him again, earning a sound between grunt and gasp. I swap between rotating and thrusting, grinding myself into Kid. I know it's just sex, but goddamn does it feel like more. I feel like I've known him for years. Years of being with him. Caring for him. Loving him. Making love to him.
Kid covers his mouth with one hand, unwilling to make the whines that pounded against his palm. I lean down to him and pull it away. I plant small kisses near but not on his lips. I create a smooth flow of gentle thrusts and letting Kid become accustomed to the feeling before pulling away and grinding into Kid. A loud gasp exits his mouth, and quickly turns into a long drawn out moan as he arches his back.
My love making turns into lust filled thrusts, each moan or grunt from Kid driving me closer to the edge. I can see his stomach muscles clench, the kisses he was making on my body becoming less passionate and more wild. If sex had a unique scent, this was it. The smell of sweat and bodies on one another.
Kid pressed his body closer to mine, letting his erect length come in contact with my stomach. I stroke his cock before enclosing it with my whole hand, pumping. Kid shudders and attacks my whole face, bad eye included, with his tongue. He trails down and bites my lip gently and that's it. I kiss him as I cum, the orgasm filling the condom. I use both hands as I pump Kid's dick now, feeling it twitch as he became dangerously close. The white substance coats my hand and chest.
I pull out of Kid and lay on the bed next to him. I lick my hand, tasting his salty/bitter liquid. We stay like that for a while, catching our breathes, legs shaky until I speak.
"Please say I'm not the only one who just experienced the best sex of his life." Kid turns on his side and grins at me charmingly.
"Nope."
A/N )÷=÷( Contest entry for XxWolfRocksxX on DeviantArt. Kid is from an anime that I think is called Soul Eater.
