Wrong Side of the Bridge Ch. 02

I squeezed and released my dick, letting the pressure build up until my whole body was tingling. The muscles in my legs were tightening and making my feet arch and my toes curl in arousal.

I gently shifted my hips up and down so my butt rubbed against Damien's hard length. The friction was sweet torture. It felt like little flecks of electricity were moving through my body from his erection, setting all my nerves tingling and making my dick hard and aching.

My nipples contracted into sharp points and the cool air of the bedroom felt like gentle waves on my flushed skin. I looked down and saw the head of my cock poking out from under the blanket, just the head, but it was swollen and dark, dripping need onto the sheets.

I felt Damien's dick pulse against me, responding to the contact, and it sent such an intense shiver of pleasure through me that my back arched and my head jerked back. The back of my skull collided hard with Damien's face and I felt his body stiffen as he swore and grabbed at his nose.

Oh shit. Panic flooded through me as I wondered what I should do -- pretend I was asleep? What if Damien kicked my ass over this?

But he merely rolled over so he was on his back, breaking the contact between his dick and my skin, muttering swear words under his breath.

"I'm sorry," I muttered.

Damien grumbled under his breath a bit more before replying, "It's okay, I hit you with my club and you fought back. Anyone would."

It took me a few moments to figure out he was talking about his dick, then I snorted in laughter and screwed my face up at the embarrassment. "Oh my god," I groaned.

"It's okay," He repeated. "Just give me some warning next time, before you go and break my nose."

We just lay there for a few moments, me still blushing and completely humiliated, hot waves of embarrassment rushing over me and letting me forget my bruises for a while. Damien was slowly rubbing his nose and occasionally grumbling under his breath or snorting experimentally. Finally he said, "You beat your boyfriend up like this too?"

"We broke up," I said. The words kind of shot out of me, like I was desperate to say them. I really wanted Damien to not think I was a slut, cheating on my man. But mainly I really wanted him to know it was okay to touch me now.

Damien was silent for a few moments. I was lying on my side so I couldn't see his face and I realised I couldn't bring myself to look at him. Butterflies of fear were swooping in my belly, fighting it out with my arousal at having Damien all naked and hard beside me.

"Would you like me to touch you?" Damien asked. His voice was so low it was like a growl shivering along my spine. I whimpered and bobbed my head up and down in a furious nod. He leaned his head in so he can lick just beneath my ear and whispered, "Let me see you."

And then he was gently pulling at my hip so I rolled over onto my back. He pushed the blankets down and away and I felt my dick springing free and sticking out in the air. I closed my eyes tight, too nervous to look down at myself.

His mouth was still at my neck, I could feel his breath against my collar bone. And then I felt Damien's fingers trailing onto my chest, exploring my bare skin, and the pleasure was so intense I moaned aloud and my head tilted back at such a sharp angle it made my neck twinge.

He tweaked one nipple and I moaned. Then he moved his mouth so his breath was on my nipple and when I felt his tongue flick out and touch me it was just too much. I opened my eyes and looked down at him, looked at my naked body, covered in bruises but spread out with Damien attached to my chest and my hard dick sticking up, purple and swollen and dribbling pre-cum onto my belly. Oh my god, it was too hot. Damien was touching me.

I grabbed my dick and squeezed and that was all it took. My back arched and all the muscles in my belly went tight, clenching up as my dick pulsed and my cum shot out across the back of Damien's head, across my belly, across his hand.

I whimpered and squeezed my dick again, easing out the last few ounces of pleasure. Was this what it would be like every time Damien touched me?

I met his eyes and they were glazed with desire. I wondered if he would want me to touch him now too. I'd love to, he was so hot; but the thought of it made me panic -- thinking of his dick near my mouth just made me remember last night and made me want to puke.

Damien kept staring into my eyes for a few moments then he gently shifted so he was lying on his side. The blanket was still draped over half his body so I couldn't see him but I could feel his hardness pressing against my thigh and it was equal parts sexy and terrifying.

But Damien didn't pressure me to do anything. He lifted the blankets so I was covered. I rolled onto my side and he pulled me against him. Gently. I could feel his dick pulsing and throbbing against my butt crack but he just lay there with an arm wrapped around my belly until I finally fell asleep with my own semen dribbling down my chest.

I woke.

Damien was watching me. He was propped up on his elbow, blue eyes intensely focused on my face from beneath those dark eyebrows. I noticed there was purple bruising around his eye, some scabbing around his lip piercing and his lips were swollen.

"You got hurt," I croaked. I went to raise myself up on my elbows as well, but my shoulder flared up in pain and I sunk back down again.

Damien's face flushed with concern. "Stay lying down, I'll get you food."

I called out protest but he was already taking his hands off me and getting out of bed. I didn't want to get up -- I had to admit, if he was willing to look after me then I was willing to be looked after.

He walked back into the room a few minutes later with a bowl of cereal, still completely naked. His dick wasn't fully erect now, though it was clearly plumped up -- nestled fatly on his dark hair, rubbing against his thighs as he walked.

He put the bowl and spoon on the pillow beside me and pulled the curtain open -- the window was at the head of the bed, so he brought his thighs right up into my face to reach it, I was staring directly at his heavy package. And when he reached up to grab the ratty old curtain, the motion made his dick swing up and away from his body a little, so it came dangerously close to my face. I was having trouble breathing again.

Damien started wandering around the room tidying -- picking up clothes and boots and magazines from the floor and putting them away in drawers or the washing basket in the cupboard. With the curtain open I could get a good look at him in the morning light. He looked like a total mess.

He was covered in bruises. His ribs and sides were purple and green from the bruising, and I could see the dark specks of blood at the surface even on his back -- which was mostly covered in a breathtaking tattoo of a phoenix with sweeping wings. There were scabs across his collar bone and the back of his head. One running down his neck and onto his chest was a nasty dark red like it was a very deep cut indeed. His lip piercing also looked red and tender which was worrying, it should look healed by now.

For all the damage he was totally hot. His legs and arms were nice and defined, muscles flexed when he moved. I could see the strength which had let him carry me off the road and up a flight of stairs. His little pot belly stuck out from his sharp hips and his butt was just perfection -- smooth and pale with just a dusting of freckles, the muscles tightening and releasing to form ripples like a sand dune as he walked.

Every time he bent over I'd get a glimpse of his hairy balls from behind, his dick hanging half-plump, and maybe even a peek at his most private hidden place. I wondered if a tough guy like him ever let anyone touch there.

"What happened to you?" I asked at last, finishing off my cereal and putting the bowl on the ground so I could lie back in bed without worrying about knocking it over. My dick was erect again. When I lay on my back it pushed up at the blankets and made a little tent over my crotch.

"What do you mean?" Damien asked, raising a white singlet to his face to sniff before tossing it in the washing basket. I had a sudden impulse to grab it back, to bury my face in the smell of his sexy manly body.

"You're covered in bruises. Was it... Was it that guy?"

"Nah," He drawled, shrugging. The movement did fascinating things to his shoulder and back muscles. His tattoos rippled. "Just went a bit too hard at a gig last Friday. This is why I don't ever want to see you in the fight pit again," He grinned, gesturing at his bruised chest and looking at me with his head cocked so he was glaring out from under those dark brows. My heart fluttered. "How are you feeling?"

I groaned and lay my head back down.

Damien snorted his laughter. "You've been out a whole week, it's crazy. Have you been having a rough time lately?"

"Yeah," I mumbled, embarrassed. "Uni and stuff. I haven't been sleeping great. Nice to catch up."

"I called Defiant to tell them what happened so you don't have to go back into work. Is there anyone else I should call?"

I shook my head. The action sent off a storm of ringing noises. "What did you tell them?" I asked after a moment's thought.

"Just that you got beat up. I think the girl on the phone was impressed. You want me to call your parents or anything?"

"No, they would just think I got what was coming to me -- they kicked me out when I came out to them in my last year of high school."

Damien looked shocked. He straightened up and stared at me.

"You okay about it?"

"Yeah, I was never good enough for them and I was always going to let them down anyway. I live in a flat now, low rent but hell." He was looking at me sadly, but his dick was ignoring his sadness and starting to twitch and rise up away from his balls. My body did this to him?

"Well listen, I've got to get into work. You've got my number and stuff if you need me. I get back about five thirty."

"That's fine. Thanks for letting me stay here," I added. The thought of having to deal with my rowdy flatmates when I was this beat up was miserable.

"No prob," Damien grinned. There was a sparkle in his eye as he looked at me. "Now I've got you in my bed I'm never letting you out again."

I blushed and he laughed. He got dressed in some cargo pants -- it was the first time I'd seen him in something which didn't cling tight to those legs of his -- and a polo shirt with heavy work boots.

He picked up my bowl from the floor and hesitated like he might kiss me on the forehead. But instead he just brushed my face with the back of his hand and said, "I'll see you this evening. Help yourself to the kitchen."

Damien

Elijah was all I could think about all day at work.

The way he had looked naked, even with his eyes nearly swollen shut. Even when he was crying. Crying is such a turn off. But on Elijah? Fuck. He was hot. That tight little body. The way he couldn't take my eyes off me. How needy and eager he was, cumming as soon as I touched him. So rewarding.

Needless to say, I was dripping pre-cum into my pants all day. Wish I'd worn underwear, I guess that's what it's for, catching all your excess pre-cum.

I was so relieved when five o'clock came. I rushed out the door with my overalls still on and had to run back into the lockers to change. My co-workers were laughing but as I stripped out of my work overalls I just told them, "Hot date" and they seemed to understand.

I was nervous getting off the bus, I actually jogged to my door and up the stairs. I couldn't wait to see Elijah. All these weeks, now here he was in my house and in my bed. But what if he'd left?

He hadn't left. He was there, standing in the kitchen, getting dinner ready. He stuck his head around the door to check it was me then grinned happily and went back to working.

"Hey," I growled, leaning on the door frame and gazing at his tight little body. He was wearing my clothes, one of my old tee shirts clinging to his chest and a pair of my loose work pants hanging off his hips. He looked so good in my clothes.

"Hey," He replied, and looked nervously at me over his shoulder before smiling again. "I'm cutting up some veges for omelettes."

"You wanna cut up some bacon too?" I teased and he wrinkled his nose at me. "Listen, you mind if I go out for a quick smoke? I really need one but I wanted to check you were okay first."

"Do whatever you like," He replied, and kept cutting up broccoli.

The omelettes were ready when I got back up. Elijah had cut up red capsicum in thin slices to look like bacon, I snorted in laughter when I saw it and Elijah grinned like an idiot.

We ate on the couch in my tiny living room, watching the sports highlights on the news. I kept stealing glances at Elijah. He was quiet, even when I tried to joke with him. I guess he might still be in shock or something. PTSD like in a war movie. I never know what to say to people when they're upset.

Finally I just asked him, "You okay? Wanna talk about it?"

He pulled a face by puckering up his lip then winced as the motion hurt his bruises. He mumbled, "Not really."

Even covered in bruises he was sexy. I couldn't help staring at him, at his creamy dark skin and the curve of his back as he leaned over to eat. Even though he was clearly sad, there was still a ghost of a smile around his plump lips and his eyes were bright. I could stare at that face for days.

Elijah snorted at something funny on the tele and turned to me to make a joke. His laughter turned to shock. What was my face doing?

"This morning was really hot," I told him. "I had your cum on my head all day."

He dropped his plate in shock and that made me start laughing. He was so nervous. I hoped it was just arousal and not trauma. Should I be taking it slow? How did you treat rape victims? But this morning he hadn't been acting like a victim at all.

I decided to be direct. If he said no, I'd listen.

He was leaning over the chair, scooping up his spilled omelette crumbs. His tee shirt -- my tee shirt -- was riding up his back. And my pants were too big for him and gaping in the back so I could look right down them and see his smooth brown skin and the top of his ass. Oh, fuck yeah.

"Elijah," I cleared my throat. "Would you like some sex later?"

He froze. I could see the side of his face turning dark with a blush.

"I'm um," He stuttered. "I'm um..."

"You're a virgin?"

He nodded sharply and a beast in me purred. I'd suspected, but it was good to know that fat fuck of a boyfriend hadn't popped his cherry. Obviously hadn't treated him very good either, Elijah practically creamed his pants as soon as I touched his chest this morning.

I was used to sluts, guys who were delighted for you to fuck them and leave them. But Elijah was different. He needed to be taken care of, to be taught that sex was awesome. I could do that for him. I could treat him so good he'd be mine forever.

"I'll take it slow," I told him. "I'll make sure you enjoy it. You'll forget you were ever scared."

I gently placed my hand under his chin and lifted his head. His whole body shivered from that simple touch.

I tilted his head so he was facing me, and the vulnerability in his big brown eyes made my heart lurch. He was at my mercy. I could do anything to him.

I stroked my thumb across his lower lip and felt him tremble at the contact. He had such beautiful, sexy lips. I even liked his bruises -- I was so used to seeing them on myself, I thought of a black eye and a scratched face as a sign of courage and anger rather than weakness. He looked hot bruised. Maybe I could teach him to fight, so he could defend himself next time some dick tried to beat him up.

I grinned at the thought. Elijah's face lit up when he saw me smiling and that was all the permission I needed. I gently pushed his shoulder, and rested my other hand on his hip so I could guide him onto his back on my couch.

Elijah obeyed, lying down on the couch cushions with his head on the arm rest. I lifted his legs onto the couch then settled between them and looked into his eyes.

He was staring at me with his lips parted. His breathing was short, his chest heaving with each pant. He wanted me so bad.

I let my fingers brush over the tent he was making in his pants. He gasped. I undid the button of those pants, slowly. My hands were shaking. I couldn't believe what I was about to do.

"Be patient with me," I whispered. "I've never done this before."

When I unzipped his fly Elijah gasped again. I looked up to see his head tilted back and his eyes squinted into tiny slits. His face was contorted like he was in pain but I could tell from the little trembles of his body and the gentle thrusts of his hips that he was just desperately aroused.

He wasn't wearing any underwear. I pulled the fly open to reveal his dark hair and the base of his cock, swollen and pressed downward by the pants. I grabbed the waistband of the trousers and pulled them down, Elijah lifted his hips to help me without looking up or opening his eyes. When I had dropped the pants on the floor, I reached up to yank his tee up so I could see his smooth belly.

"You've got a nice cock," I whispered, letting my breath tickle across his sensitive skin. Elijah's body jerked and his cock waved around. It was small and slim but even and nice to look at, uncut with the foreskin tight across the dark head. I was glad it was small, it would make me look more like a pro if I managed to deep throat him.

I swallowed. Was I sure I wanted to do this? But, what was I so scared of? Losing my macho image? Who the fuck would know, except Elijah? And it was obvious he wanted me to touch me, I'd known since he practically fainted at the mention of it that time in his piercing parlour.

And I wanted it. Desperately. I wanted to make this boy scream my name when he came. I wanted to make him look at me like I was the god he worshipped. And I wanted to feel what it was like to have a cock in my mouth. Elijah's cock.

I reached out with my trembling hand and ran one finger along the underside of Elijah's cock, from the base to the tip. He cried out and his hips jerked again and I felt a ripple of pleasure. He was so turned on! By my hand!

I circled my fingers around his crown, feeling the velvety softness of his skin. The foreskin had peeled back more of its own accord and I could see his moist tip poking out, the dark pulpy red of his slit oozing out slow drops of pre-cum. I gently pulled the foreskin down to get a better look at the rich dark head of his cock.

Elijah let out a loud moan. He wiggled his hips, desperately moving in my hand.

I knew how I liked to be touched and I figured he would be the same. I wrapped my fingers around his cock, just below the crown, and jerked experimentally up and down. I put more emphasis on the down stroke, moving slow. At the bottom of the downstroke I squeezed with my lower fingers. I did it a few times, looking up to check that Elijah was still writhing around in ecstasy with his head thrown back.

I hovered with my face near his cock, my breath dusting over his exposed head. I waited until Elijah lifted himself up to look at me with lust-filled eyes, his mouth hanging open and a low needy groan escaping it. "Damien... Please..."

I opened my mouth, curling my lip back briefly to show off the 'FAG' tattoo. I hovered there a few seconds, my lip ring a tiny fraction away from his sensitive flesh. Elijah groaned and pumped his hips up so his cock was thrust into my mouth and I instinctively closed my lips around it. Elijah whimpered. His eyes were wide like he was surprised at his own daring.

My heart was racing now and I could feel myself starting to sweat. There was a cock in my mouth! Elijah's skin was warm, and slimy around the head. I knew he was small but he felt huge in my mouth, much bigger than anything I'd ever eat. I probed carefully with my tongue and felt the ridge of his foreskin, the change in texture from velvety smooth to pulpy and slick. I licked up a tiny bit and tasted the salt of his pre-cum.