OK sorry I havent written... been in England and hospitalized (sometimes I think I am as crazy as
Ron) thank you for the reviews... and so on with the show!
chapter nine
I HAVE FALLEN ONCE AGAIN...
People never ask me if I'm alright... mostly because if I'm not seething in my own anger or self- pity I am. I know that people think of me as someone who knows not what other's feel. That I am selfish and thus do not pay attention to another person's pain...
And in a way I think that the exact people who think that know me, as I rarely ever agree to myself that I am...
Kyle...
I have a made up fantasy that plays through my mind in which I saved him and remained his hero until the end of days.
But then I awake from this daydream and realize that I am not the hero... that no one was the hero...
Because ultimately there is no hero.
Harry tried to tell me that more than once... I didn't want to listen, because he was everyone's hero. He was even my hero... and I didn't listen to him...
I haven't listened to alot of people.
I'm looking out of the train window... just watching the horizons and believing that there might be something worth fighting for.
It's as if the world has eaten me whole. I feel nothing for anything... yet I feel everything.
It is as though the earth is a carnivore that eats what it may giving no thoughts to those whose unfortunate luck is to reside in it...
The trees go by at miles per hour... and I feel a strange peace at myself and I am able to say that the world is not as horrible as it once had been.
But deep down I am once again dying inside.
The years of selfishness, where only myself and what I thought mattered existed. But is that not what people now expect of me? To think only of myself and no other.
Because I wish I were like that... the one who didn't fall in love with Despair and ultimately Death.
What shall I do when the time to choose whether or not to fall ignorant to the raging in my soul comes?
Suicide. A disgusting and vile word.
But to choose Death is so... beautiful. A word is but a word. But an action and concept can be fallen in love with.
And that is what I have done.
I am nothing more than what a person of my upbringing despises... the one who knows nothing of eternity yet spends every aching moment trying to analyze it.
To choose Death.
Is it so wrong.
Is the lustrous beauty of it deserving of that word that makes it so violated and thus, filthy as a wanton whore.
I find that this thinking in my mind is rather soothing to me... in times that the world has vomited its acid into my soul.
The sins that I have indulged myself in. The flesh that I have tasted as I spiraled into my own tragic demise.
The train door opens to my cabin, and the warm body of my enemy has seated themselves beside me.
I try not to think of the sensuous smell. The warm breath that emblazes my neck as a small kiss is placed there... Why is he back? Does he not know that he has destroyed my life in the ways of such torment. That it is he that has given me the reason to find Death so inticing now that my sickness of him is cured?
Or is it that he meant to hurt me... that he wanted to taste what I had tried so hard not to want. That I fell victim to even as I resisted.
The world isa sick place.
For sick people.
And I want to be cured.
More kisses on my neck, the soft pale hair lulling my senses. I allow myself to be seduced in my solitude. Knowing that even as this happens I will leave for home to find myself seduced by another vixen...
My body is inflamed with this passion... this passion that seeks not to be quelled.
Percy.
The name and the thought is what I cling to...
My savior in my Fall of Grace.
Kisses placed upon my shoulder as I arch my neck baring one of the most sensitive parts of my body. Hands touching every available skin of my body.
My clothing being no asset to th4e being whose determining whether or not I suffer horrendous torture.
Sort carnal kisses becoming hard and demanding.
That silent revelation that I am a possession to be kept and nothing more.
I feel my organ harden, knowing that if thought could be comprehended I would feel betrayed by my own body.
The hand has come to the exact part where ragged breaths escaped my lips, my back arching.
"Tell me what you want." Lips against my ear.
The skillful hand around my shaft, moving torturously slow.
"Struggling to keep my eyes from closing in pleasure I manage to choke out.
"Touch me." The hand squeezes painfully.
"And?" The lust dripping from the voice is not subtle.
"Fuck me..." The hand pulls back my foreskin nad moves, milking my organ making me give a throaty moan of longing. I ccome with my cries silenced by his mouth. My own hands clutched to the cushions on the bench.
Breaking the kiss for desperate oxygen, I allow myself to become limp.
"I'm going to fuck you until you scream..."
My eyes snap open as I see the flash of a devilsh smirk.
The sight of a naked lusturous young man blinds my eye and I am smitten.
A weeping erection that I touch and love as the sharp breath is drawn.
I lick my lips and around the cock my mouth goes. Holding the soon to be bucking hips still as I drop from my seat to my knees for more elevation.
Taking it deep into my throat, I savior the salty bitter taste. Using my tongue to pull back foreskin and run along the bulging vein.
The hair is being ripped from scalp as mly head is pulled away with much force.
Knowing what is expected of me, I remove the clothing that is in the way.
Turning around still on my knees I rest my upper torso on the bench. Spreading my legs.
I am shocked when I feel some wetness by my opening. Preparing me with his tongue as
I keen for more.
Warm and inside me. Pleasure.
I arch to it. Trying to be quiet, knowlingly failing.
"Shhh... or do I have to quiet you myself?"
"Ohgod, ohgod, ohgod.."
That is all I can say, as I try to stop my spinning conscious. I feel his cock pressing up against my opening.
Pressing my head into the cushioned bench to stifle my first cry he enters in. Little less than half at first, stretching me painfully.
Then, as someone who knows my body inside sex... one thrust right to my prostrate. My muffled scream and his grunted groan as I clentch around him.
Thurst , Thrust and on so as pleasure ovethrows me.
My organ explodes as I reach my end. The feeling of being filled is dulled by the orgasmic haze.
A bite on my shoulder...
And I have Fallen Once Again...
A/N Yes yes, I had to do a sex scene... on the train... one of my (perverted) dreams of having Ron posistioned.
