A Bloom of Darkness

"I don't know. Like I said, I wanted to see you, I guess. Gotta say, your room is and isn't exactly what I expected." I had a four poster bed with a white lace canopy from my childhood that I'd never bothered to rid myself of. Leafy green wallpaper that was mostly covered with bookshelves, a glass terrarium, one dresser with a tv on top of it, and exactly one poster. It was Albert Joseph Pénot's, The Bat Woman, a somewhat erotic piece displaying a woman with very fair skin in a nude stance mid-air, her long dark hair flowing behind her, arms stretched above her, with bat wings, and a dark, cloudy sky behind her.

"That's uh, quite the piece." He gestured to the poster.

"What can I say. I like big bats and I cannot lie."

"Did you really just—"

"Yes, yes I did." And I was damn proud of it, too. Eighteen year olds are so stupid.

Rolling his eyes and shaking his head, he brought me in for a big bear hug, quickly kissing the side of my head. He then moved a little closer to the poster, apparently needing a better look.

"Huh, you kinda look like her."

"Yeah?"

"Don't you think? I mean okay, not the creepy eyes. You have nice eyes. But the body, skin, hair- I mean, it's you. Your boobs are bigger though."

"How would you know?"

"I, too, have eyes." It was his turn to be funny, or at least try to be.

"Fair enough. For what it's worth, I think yours are nice too. Your eyes! Whatever. You know what I meant. I'm also pretty sure I don't have wings."

"Oh? Well, maybe not yet. When's the last time you checked?"

"Funny. Let me guess. You came all this way to... check for my wings? Give me a back rub while you're at it?"

He half smiled at me before shaking his head. "It's not like that, Luce. I really just wanted to see you."

I still didn't really believe him, but I also didn't really care either. Rory had always been a sweetheart to me. And high school was over. If I was some kind of target or stupid game for him and his buddies, they were far nastier than I'd realized. That wasn't him. Vigilance was a steady companion of mine, and my gut had been on high alert since before I could walk. I was wary in life because I wasn't stupid, but I knew I didn't need to worry with him.

And yes, those were the thoughts I had at that age. Always anxious that someone was trying to hurt me. That was my normal. On the rare occasion someone was being genuinely nice I'd sabotage it, being too paranoid about it, too sure it was a trap, too ready for the bottom to fall out. It wasn't until nearly a decade later that I realized if you spend all your time looking for that bottom, you'll end up tripping over something and falling either way.

"What is that?!" He was staring at the terrarium as my little familiar came out, tapping away along some new bark in its enclosure.

"Oh, that's Greg. My pet giant African millipede." Rory moved in closer to the terrarium to inspect Greg and I took a seat on my bed. It was weird having him here, in my room. A few years ago my mom would have been livid. When I finally did get a boyfriend, she worried and taunted me about birth control and joked about being happy that I wasn't a lesbian. I still regret not telling her I was bi. Not like that conversation would have been much fun for anyone though.

"Greg, huh?" He turned and looked me up and down as I reclined against the wall my bed was pushed up against. "Luce, you really are one weird cookie." He gestured to the space next to me on my bed and I nodded my consent.

"Too weird?" I asked nervously. I was always too much for everyone. Too weird, too brusque, too loud, too quiet, too fucking human.

"Nah. I like a good cookie." I guess if I can like big bats, he can get away with comparing me to a good cookie. Our eyes met and the laughter confined within them burst out. It wasn't too raucous, just a few, light, little chuckles. His laughs were so warm and gentle and easy. It made something deep inside me sing out.

When our gazes came back together, we just stared at one another. It felt like forever and all but a flash instantaneously. He leaned as I did. Our lips met and even in this summer heat I welcomed his warmth.

Then something... happened.

Something took hold between us. I'm not entirely sure how to describe it. To say I didn't want it, didn't want him, would be a lie. I very, very much did. But what unfolded, and how- it was as if I was no longer the one driving. Nor was I the vehicle. I was merely sitting in back, seeing, feeling, hearing everything. Experiencing everything. But entirely unable to change any of it, even if I'd wanted to. You'd think this would have frightened me, but it didn't. Not with him.

My body moved to him with our kiss unbroken as he pulled me to him. Our bodies moving together in unison, as if this were some kind of choreography we puppets had merely stumbled into, strings being played as our transcendence saw fit. Straddling him as I had weeks ago, pushing him down on the bed, my arousal was familiarly reflexive having him underneath me. His tongue and mine exploring one another only added to the heat, as did our moans and mewls, our groans and grunts.

Breaking our kiss for the first time, sitting up atop him, I slowly pulled my shirt off. After he enjoyed the view, his grip steadied on my hips as he sat up, repositioning us both. Taking another deep kiss as he briefly palmed both my breasts, running his thumbs over my taut nipples. He then held me where he wanted me, a strong hand gripping the nape of my neck as he pressed his forehead to mine, rubbing against me, almost as if he was impressing a kind of deep, innate intimacy that was, in a word, impossible.

The storm continued to rage outside, lightning and thunder tightly chasing one another with a natural euphony of rain to serenade them, and us. While I was reveling in the experience of it all, but still not driving, I hadn't questioned the controlling phenomena itself. I had, however, wondered if Rory was in control of himself, or responsible for this entire thing. When he spent only an adequate time on my breasts, I was fairly certain he was not. I felt yet another solidarity with him in this bizarreness we were experiencing. It made me feel all the closer to him.

Again moving as one, we stood together. He pulled his shirt off as my hands ran over his chest, abs and waist, fingers dipping into his shorts. Without hesitation he kneeled before me, pulling my pajama shorts down in one effortless motion, and eagerly buried himself in me. I was surprised, but my body wasn't. Whatever was driving this circus knew this was going to happen. I was already lewdly wet. Another odd thing. If something had taken us over for the sake of having us fuck, I would think it would do it as quickly and efficiently as possible. This was enjoyable, languid, fucking amazing.

Still standing, he brought me to a climax with a combination of his skilled tongue and energetic fingers. My legs nearly gave out from the pleasure, and here too, he had me. Holding me up, he supported me against him as I grabbed at his dark red hair, grasping him where I could while moaning through my guttural orgasm. I wasn't all that experienced. My previous, first and only, boyfriend had never made me cum. Someone else doing it for me... I could have cried.

He stood and helped me steady myself. Then it was my turn, or his. It depends on how you look at it. I knelt before him. But instead of pulling his shorts down, I rubbed his throbbing cock through the material, luxuriating in the groans I was pulling from deep within him. His hand found purchase in my hair, and I stopped my little game.

Pulling his shorts down, I stood, grazing his cock with my hand, and moved him back to the bed. Given our height difference, this only made sense. Though I could see some experimentation in our future. Positioning myself between his legs, I worshipped his cock. Reverently twirling my tongue around his cockhead, sucking up his precum before slowly working my way down, taking more and more and more of him. Whatever had taken hold was certainly more skilled than I, so I sure as hell was taking notes.

"Lucia...." His voice was gravelly and desperate. Part of me wanted to tell him off for using my name like that. Part of me loved it. I adored how it sounded when he said it, especially when he said it like that.

Slowly I worked myself off of his cock so I could slide back on top of him. Positioning him underneath me, I moved my hips back and forth gently, my lips sliding along his entire length, both of us reveling in one another's warmth, strength, tenderness.

Another harsh thunder crash outside, and the power went out. It didn't halt us or even slow our momentum. I came down to kiss him, and for another forever and a flash our bare bodies fed one another all the kindness and compassion our worlds hadn't seen fit to give us. In that moment we became one another's comfort, surrounded by the dark.

Angling my hips and lips just so, I caught the end of his cock. He groaned at the contact and took his cue, pushing slightly, piercing his way into me. For just a moment I moved back and forth, taking only an inch or so of him. I could feel him underneath me, feel how wild I was driving him. When it was clear he was about to do something about it, his fingers pleading, digging into me deeper and deeper, more and more frantic- I plunged myself down onto him completely in one fell, fluid motion.

Sensual pain and agonizing pleasure together, melding into one another. For a moment I couldn't move, and he didn't dare. I'd hit my cervix quite hard with his cock, another first for me and it'd momentarily laid me flat both literally and figuratively. Whether or not he could tell, I wasn't sure. He'd also stretched me out quite a good deal more than I'd ever experienced before. But the Rory I knew was cocky enough as it was, there was no way I was going to say anything to that effect aloud.

We laid there for a spell as I gasped my pain out into his shoulder. His hands were running slowly and firmly over my body, his cock twitching inside me. Gradually I began grinding my hips on his length, careful not to be as foolishly forceful as I had a moment ago. This was another thing that confused me about whatever was puppeteering us. Did it not know what it was getting us into? For a passing second I wondered if it was showing us the parameters of, well, us. Perhaps it knew something about us that we were yet to know. Even in that first moment of surprised pain, I wasn't entirely sure that I didn't like it.

In that darkened room, with my body no longer under my control, my mind was filled with bliss as my hips moved back and forth, using his cock to stimulate all the right places. His hands held onto me as I worked myself on him. I could feel myself getting close. My hands fell on his chest as I ground myself into him, faster and more precise. His groans as he restrained himself, allowing me my pleasure as he relished in my indulgence, sent me over the edge.

I called out his name as my body began to cum. "Arthur!" It wasn't a name that I'd ever used before. I knew he didn't usually like it, but it felt beyond right in that moment.

My muscles were contracting, my walls and lips pulsating as waves of pleasure shivered through me. Sweaty, panting, I collapsed on his chest as my pussy continued grasping his aching cock. Without another word his arms wrapped tightly around me, and he started thrusting wildly up into me. Before my own aftershocks had calmed he'd filled me, coated my walls with his cum as he called out my name, holding my body flush to his.

By the time I felt his last spurt of semen shooting inside me, I was back in control of myself. Given the way his body had froze up underneath me at about the same time, it seemed true for Rory as well.

"Rory?" The apprehension in my voice betrayed how I actually felt, but I didn't know how to convey that to him, not just then.

"Yeah?" He seemed uneasy, and possibly disappointed. In what though, I didn't know how to ask.

"You... you, um, I mean...." I couldn't make myself ask what I already knew to be true. His cum was slowly dripping out of me around his softened cock as he still held me firmly to him. An especially spirited twitch of his shaft dislodged enough semen that I felt compelled to deal with it sooner rather than later. I pushed off of him, pressing away from him slightly. He let me go listlessly, and again I wasn't sure what to make of it, or him.

Stumbling around my room in the dark, I lit a couple candles I kept about and rarely used. By the time I'd managed that, his cum was a fair ways down my thighs.

"I'll be right back," I murmured as I grabbed my gray robe and a candle and headed to the bathroom. I wondered if he'd take off while I was gone. It wouldn't surprise me, but maybe I shouldn't be so shitty to myself all the time.

Cleaned up, my robe securely wrapped around myself, I grabbed some tissues and headed back. He'd dressed already and was sitting up with his back against the wall again. I felt so... guilty.

"Lucia, I—"

"Don't call me that!" I was on edge, but immediately felt awful for snapping at him.

"Luce- fuck, sorry. Look, I am so sorry! I never thought that would happen between us. Okay, not never, but the chances of... well, are you okay?"

"I'd be more okay if you could tell me what that was. And if you weren't sorry it happened." His regret had cut deeply, but I wasn't entirely sure why.

"I don't mean sorry like that! As for explaining it- I wish I could." He stared off at my ceiling, looking far too aggrieved for someone who'd just cum as hard as he had, even in the candlelight. I listened to my gut, because what did I have to lose, really? I knew I was leaving in a month. Knew not to get anymore attached than I already was. Of course, knowing is one thing. And when you're that young, you know you can do these impossible things.

Hopping up on the bed beside him, I put an arm around him and curled up against him, placing my head on his shoulder. Again his whole body froze up. Only for a moment this time before he wrapped an arm around me. Sighing, both of us relaxed into one another. I decided to broach the topic of the elephant creeping around my small room.

"That was kind of crazy, huh?"

"Crazy bad?" His voice was timid and unsure.

"No. I like crazy. And you. Whatever that was, it was amazing."

"Yeah, it really was." He kissed my forehead, and I squeezed him tightly, stretching myself up to kiss his neck. I was a little wary, unsure if I was signing up to be another puppet or not, but again I kissed him. This time I stayed me, and after a few minutes of making out, his hands again in my hair, I grew daring enough to grab his cock through his shorts. His groan, truly his own this time, was much more guttural and sent a tingle through my body.

After a couple more groans like that I couldn't take it anymore. Slipping my hand inside his shorts, grabbing his cock, his groan crescendoed as he threw his head back, abruptly hitting it against my wall. Realizing that wasn't the best angle, I moved up onto my knees as he hurriedly shimmied his shorts back down, desperately trying to kick them off his ankles.

I loved the way he felt against my tongue, and the way his musk smelled the further I moved down, and how our fluids tasted together... each sensation was uniquely inspiring. "Fuck, Lucia! That feels so good!" His voice wasn't quite the same, but I still liked how my name sounded when he said it. His right hand was entangled in my hair as he helped to... encourage my progress- I wasn't able to take as much of him as I had earlier, but I had an awful lot of fun trying.

His left hand was rubbing my ass, trying to pull my robe up, eager to get back to my flesh. I could have helped him, but I found his efforts adorable and enticing. Especially when I tried extra hard to take even more of him, distracting him from said efforts.

When he'd had enough, of one thing or another, he pulled me to him and kissed me deeply. He tried to replicate the unbroken kiss from earlier, and was mostly successful, only stumbling here and there as we awkwardly lusted for one another as ourselves. Truly ourselves, because while my robe was still tied about me, he pulled the material aside and really savored my breasts. Palming, grasping, licking, sucking, nibbling, worshipping. I swear he almost made me cum from that alone!

I ended up having to pull him to me, calling his name again, "Arthur..." as I wrapped my legs around him, ready for him, pulling him to me, needing him. The storm outside had died down, leaving us with the kind of heavy humidity that generally encourages grouchiness. Right now all it was encouraging was an extra layer of sweat as we fucked, my back arching as his cock filled me, my body having grown more accustomed and needful of him already.

His breathing started to grow ragged, his thrusts more erratic, inconsistent.

"Is it... is it okay for me... to cum inside you? I know earlier, but—"

"Yes! I'm... fuck that feels amazing! I'm good, Arthur." I was barely keeping it together, but I was good. He abruptly moved up, giving himself room to find my clit. I yipped, bucking my hips and trying in vain to get away from the electric sensation. Grabbing for his hand, I managed to scream, "It's too sensitive!" between my own heavy breaths.

"Alright!" His smile in that moment filled my heart and ignited my world. His eyes were wild with life and adventure. I couldn't look away. It scared me though. I felt like I was walking on the freshly sharpened blade of a precariously fragile knife. I already knew it then. I wanted him too much.

Crashing back down to me, kissing me single-mindedly he temporarily stopped his thrusts. I began moving my hips from underneath him as much as I could. A primal groan reverberated from his chest as he started bucking himself into me uncontrollably. Again he called out my name as he came deep inside of me, holding me fiercely.

Our first time had been, in a word, perfect. That second time had been messy and chaotic and I'd enjoyed it all the more for its perceived flaws.

He grabbed the tissues I'd brought for him earlier and began to clean me up. Mark that as yet another first for me. The only other guy I'd been with had basically treated me like a cum dumpster, if you'll pardon the vulgarity, albeit an accurate one. It was not lost on me that I was basically playing that role again for Rory, but he was different. He was sweet about it and wanted me to enjoy it at least as much as he was.

The power was still out when he nakedly jumped, almost literally, back into my bed beside me. He laid back and stared up at the ceiling, letting out a huge sigh of contentment. "Happy?" I asked playfully.

"You really have no idea," he whispered serenely.

"Now who's being weird," I teased. He exhaled a laugh as he pulled me to him, kissing the top of my head.

"Can I come back tomorrow night? Not for this. I mean, this is nice, right? But I'd like to just spend some time with you while I can. If you'll have me?"

"Yeah, that'd be nice. This was nice, too. I'm not against both, just so you know." I wasn't sure what had gotten into me, besides him. Any boldness that might have come naturally had long ago been beaten out of me. But with him? With him I felt able to feel again.

For the next two weeks, every night around 11pm he'd knock on my window. We'd spend time talking, sharing our hopes and fears and dreams. We laughed and cried and fucked. He'd always leave after a few hours though. It just worked out better for both of us that way.

Dad figured out pretty quickly that I had a visitor. Not that I was exactly hiding it. I was eighteen after all and about to head out on my own. Besides, after Mom died he didn't deny my brother or me anything. He became absent in a way that made me hate him. I think he knew that. Maybe that's why he started making himself scarce more often than not. And Lucas practically lived at his best friend's since Dad never told him no.