Impossible Love

Warning:

Firstly, I'm new to this whole writing thing. Secondly, I have a bad sense of humour and that tends to be present even in my most intense romance/ sex scenes. Lastly, if you want more you have to tell me, I lose interest in stories easily and will probably not finish anything I start unless someone is hounding me.

Enjoy.

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Impossible Love 01

I'm what most guys call 'Mr. Fucking Perfect My Ass' and what most girls moan 'Mr. Perfect Ass Fucking'.

It's no surprise because I'm not very tall and have mischievous girlish good looks rather then drool-worthy man muscle rippling through my delicate frame. The guys have no idea why the women love me because I'm no jock and secrete no manly body odour. But to the girls, I'm a real life anime character, who looks sensitive but has a dark dominating playfulness deep inside.

Sensitive my shiny white arse, the only thing I'm sensitive to is how my hair looks when it's really windy. That's right, I'm a narcissistic, selfish little bastard and I love every inch of it.

And that's what makes me such a potent mix. I'm hot, and I know it. The visual and the attitude combined does wonders when you want to get into someone's pants.

So you could have guessed the shock I felt when I was informed by my less-then-abusive uncle that I was to be moved to a private, all-boys boarding school. For once in my over-sexed life I was faced with the daunting issue of self-masturbation.

Smiling gleefully at me over his morning newspaper, my uncle's double chin wobbled erratically as he described to me all the fun I would have. Apparently it was his old high school, where he had been football captain and school captain and blah blah blah blah...

It was so like him to ignore me in his plans for MY life, which is painfully punctuated by the way he continues to talk to me as if I was still at the table when I am upstairs packing my stuff. I have suspicions that he has an imaginary version of me that he has created just so he could torture me with his incessant chattering even when I'm not physically around. The bastard.

Though, at least I would be getting away from him and my old high school. Due to my tendencies to love myself more than the flavour of the week, the school bitch had put a bounty on my head and was driving me insane with her dictionary-length love letters.

Finding one of the said bitch's love letters tucked into the side of my school bag I crumple it up and toss it angrily at my desk. Then, being the OC (Obsessively Compulsive) person I am, I stood up, picked up the letter, and folded it neatly before placing it carefully in my waste basket. Yeah, I have problems.

After a week of being silently pissed at my bastard of an uncle and packing and repacking I finally found myself at my new room and spraying everything with disinfectant. I could see dust everywhere and the discovery of a cockroach had me hyperventilating into a brown paper bag.

An hour of spraying, hyperventilation and cussing in four different languages finally convinced me I needed my pills.

Rummaging through my bag I felt the cold hand of reality go down my pants, I'd forgotten to pack my pills. But that was impossible! I was so meticulous that I even packed my own toilet paper so that I wouldn't have to suffer the rasp of cheap, nameless brands on my tenders.

But it soon became apparent with everything neatly lined up on my bed covers that my pills had somehow deceased along the way. My over analysing and paranoid mind immediately brought up the prospect that this was a part of one of my uncle's sick jokes, but I knew that was untrue. He cared too much for his own reputation to let me go to his old school without pills, because without pills, I have the potential to commit acts of manslaughter and aggravated assault.

Just as I was about to reinitiate hyperventilation into my now soggy brown paper bag, the door to my room swang open and a bear of man leapt in. What was this, some kind of preschool entertainment session?

"Welcome roomie!" He bellowed, and before I could blink he had me in a painful headlock while he knuckled down on my head with a determined fist. Somehow I got the feeling God hated me.

Reeling out of shock and into panic about my hair, I brought my elbow down hard on his steel abbs. A bit of pain flickered across his features but I was in AGONY. What the fuck did this steroid junkie take!?

Quickly backing up to my bed I noticed that the guy had brought an audience. All of them were big, bulking, beefy brutes; need I go on with the alliteration for emphasis?

"Awwww, man you scared the poor kid. Shame on you Troy!" laughed a gigantic redhead. I wanted to spit on his freckled smirking face. Coming up close and taking up much too much of my personal bubble he stuck out a calloused paw.

"The name is Torq, yours?"

I was too scared to ignore him and too disgusted to take his hand so I replied in as much of a monotone as I could manage, "Decarde."

Now when I tell people my name, those with 100+ IQ would normally nod thoughtfully and ask me if I was into philosophy, 70+ would crack some lame joke about me being a fruit, 50+ would have some sort of vague recognition flash through their eyes and at last, the >20 would have no reaction. Guess where these four big jocks belonged on the IQ ladder?

"Cool, I'm your roomie Troy, and those two are my buddies Can and Do," announced the brute that had ravaged my hair. My elbow was obviously not an effective attack weapon because he still had that shit-eating smile plastered onto his face.

Apparently the jocks all thought 'Can' and 'Do' was a funny combination. Lame. Their names were actually Canis and Dominic. I wanted to puke from all the dumbass lameness.

For the next few weeks Troy stuck to me like dog shit on the bottom of brand new stilettos. I would be eating and he would come sit next to me, peeing and he would use the one next to mine, and if he could, probably even shower next to me if I didn't make sure I showered at odd irregular hours when he was off at football practice.

I was at the point of screaming and throwing myself out the window, when he broke the last straw and paraded into our room naked. Now I didn't give a shit that he was naked and was hung like a fucking minotaur, but the minute his sweat-slicked ass connected with my pristine bed covers I launched myself at him.

It must have been shock because he went down like a rock. I'd see him in football practice and trust me; it took a lot more than a skinny-assed girly boy like me to move him even an inch.

Always being one to take hold of opportunity, I brought my legs up and straddled him with my hands moving to grip tightly around his neck. Did I ever mention what a fucking gorgeous neck this piece of shit had?

"I have had enough of your crap on my stuff you asswipe!" I yelled, hyperventilating a little as my rage took over and my grey cells pulled out their oxygen masks.

"Don't touch my stuff, don't sit next to me, don't pee near me and most of all DON'T spread your fucking ass-juices all over my sheets you fucking piece of...!" Before I could finish Troy had effectively dismantled me and now held me hostage with his mountain of a body.

"Then maybe I should spread my ass-juices somewhere else?" He snickered.

Grabbing my wrists he held them above my head in a painful iron grip. Looking up into his mesmerising but fucking annoying bright blue eyes I noted with horror the amusement in them. What I thought had been a brilliant display of my masculine dominance was to him nothing more than a little childish spat.

Mouth opening, ready to spit some long worded venom I let out a wheezing scream instead. His hand immediately flew to my mouth as I started to struggle in earnest. My eyes bugged out of my head as I watched in slow motion more of his stinky jock sweat slide off his lean shiny muscle and onto my cleansed body. Oh God, if you have any pity for this little being of creation, please end its existence now.

With his massive paw of a hand crushing my lips into my skull, I was forced to watch with impending doom as his pupils dilated with pleasure.

Now I am as straight as they come so you can imagine what went through my mind when I realised that it wasn't my struggling that was causing the bed to rock like a fucking seesaw.

The fuckwad was using my jean clad privates like a blow up fuck toy all the while mumbling sweet nothings into my ear! I was in so much rage and panic I had to close my eyes and breathe deeply out of my nose six to ten times before I was calm enough to come up with a logical and practical solution out of my dire situation. In other words, I kneed him.

No amount of football practice, weightlifting or steroid injections could have saved him from the soul-searing nut crunch I delivered him. He let out the groan of a dying animal as I thrust him off me.

Racing to the door I stopped and turned to admire my handiwork. I'm a machosadist so I wasn't surprised by the shiver of pleasure that ran up my spine as I studied his beet red face and quivering physique.

"Next time you piss me off, I'll fucking castrate you!" I snarled at him before turning and casually striding away. Suddenly I felt so much better.

Then the reality of the situation hit me. It happened while I was sipping juice with some of my friends from art class. I had just fucking KNEED the CAPTAIN of the fucking FOOTBALL TEAM! – I was so fucking dead.

The straw from the juice propelled itself down my throat and unfortunately, I coughed it back up. If it had killed me, I would have at least died a peaceful and honourable death.

"You okay Dec?" asked John, my current best friend. Even though he looked like a jock he was cool like me. We were of the few intellectuals in this jock infested hole that took on accelerated art and philosophy courses in hope of bettering ourselves.

The only thing I didn't like too much about him was that he had these shyness spasms where he got incredibly shy and wouldn't even meet my eyes. He just had have one right now.

Not wanting to deal with his emotional shit, I grabbed the front of his collar and demanded, "I'm going to room with you!"

His grey eyes widened and his face suddenly glowed bright red, "Ummm..uh...o..k..kay," he stuttered. What the fuck was up his ass?

Great, all I needed to figure out now was how to sneak back into my room and get my essentials.

Being the sometime idiot I am, I had come up with the fantastic idea of going back to my room when Troy normally had football practice, forgetting the minor detail that few could practice with bruised balls.

So I had nobody to curse but myself when I found my back pressed hard against the door with a very angry football captain breathing down my neck.

"Think you are so smart don't you? Think you can get away with it just because you are hot don't you?" Troy growled. I had never seen him angry before so I was about ready to piss my pants.

Muscle rippling as he flexed around me, I bit back a moan of pleasure. Truth was, I was more of a masochist than a sadist.

"I'm going to have you one way or another, whether you like it or not princess!" he whispered menacingly into my ear, his hot breath sending torrents of shivers down my body and making my toes curl.

My shuddering caused him to freeze, and his frame relaxed a little as he wrongly mistook my pleasure for fear. A gentle hand coming to cup my face, he pulled back a little and said in a sickeningly tender tone, "hey, come on princess, don't be scared, you know I wouldn't hurt you."

What a bastard, first he threatens to rape me now he is playing the prince in shinning armour. But fuck, he was hot half naked and I liked that brand of jock straps, airy and comfortable while providing the necessary support.

He pressed closer and unconsciously I grinded against him. Jerking pack with a yelp his hands flew down to his groin. I stared at him for a few seconds before bursting out in laughter.

He was glaring up at me but was obviously in too much pain to come up with anything to say. Not that his brain worked well normally anyways.

"Pffft, yeah whatever hotshot, I'd like to see you do anything more than piss blood for the next couple of weeks!" With that I turned and headed towards my bed. All thoughts of changing rooms having left my mind now that I knew he was into me 'that' way and that I was in no danger of sexual assault for a good indefinite amount of time. Thankyou mighty heavens.

At first it started off as pure, evil teasing revenge but then it started getting really twisted.

I had gotten myself these small slutty, fag style jockstraps which I would walk around in with my perky ass high in the air for him to admire. Troy would try to ignore me, pretending to read a book or play with his football but his shorts would tent and he would growl with frustration. Still being really really tender in 'that' area he could do nothing to relieve himself.

Though, I should have known that something bad was coming when he never retaliated against my teasing.

It was about two weeks after the kneeing and I had just entered the room after a shower. Naked except for my sinfully small towel, I strode to my bed and flashed my assets as I ditched the towel for my teasing jockeys.

Troy was on his bed, a few feet from mine, apparently deeply into Othello. I would have believed him more if he had picked a book more to his level and if he wasn't so blatantly raping my body with his goddamn beautiful eyes.

"Hey, how long does it take for Chiochorphonae to start working?" He suddenly asked as I was bending down to wipe my toes.

"Chiochorphonae? About 10 mins, it's a fast absorbing painkiller.......hey why the hell would you take something like...." Understanding dawned on me as I watched him rise from his bed. A pure predatory glint in his eyes as he raked me with his burning gaze.

Holy shit.