Alex

Alex's cock comes into my asshole faster this time, but the thrusts are slower.

"Just relax, Théo."

"You're doing very well, Théo."

It is less painful. After a minute or two, I get used to the fullness and begin to enjoy the sensation in my ass. My untouched cock becomes a solid bar against my stomach. Alex increases the rhythm.

"Do you like my cock inside you?" he asks.

I stay quiet, still overawed by the situation.

"Do you like my cock?" he repeats, ramming hard.

"Fuck. Yes, yes, yes!" I gasp.

"Do you like being fucked, Théo?"

"Yes, yes. I like it," I don't want to get rammed again, also I don't want Alex to stop.

His hand finds my head, pushing down and fish hooking my mouth to signal the end of our conversation. His fucks are stronger, he grunts. I feel submissive, pinned by Alex's cock, I relax my idea of masculinity and let myself enjoy the psychology of being owned. I feel the change in tension as he orgasms. He relaxes on top of me before pulling out.

Alex laughs, "You were awesome, Théo. A natural!"

I smile, feeling a little sore and open, but proud of myself. I gush briefly about my new experience. Then I'm back inside Alex's thighs again. Sitting with his back to the wall Alex pulls me in and his hand starts pumping my cock, lube cooling the head. His other hand rests lightly on my throat, lifting my chin so that I can't anticipate his deliberately erratic moves. I send a jet of cum sideways over my right shoulder across Alex and the bed, painting a spot on the wall.

Alex holds me, and we don't speak for a few minutes. Alex has two bottles of beer. We sit together on my bed, drinking the warm beer and listening to music on his phone, sharing the ear buds from Alex's headphones. We talk a little, but there isn't much to discuss. After a while, a text message pings onto the screen. The French slang is gone too fast for me to read, but there's a love heart and a girl's name above.

"I have to go," Alex says.

I know that he is going to the girl. He kisses me gently on the forehead, he knows that he is hurting me.

"Good night, baby Théo. Time for you to sleep."

After Alex leaves, I feel an empty melancholy. It's over now. It's not Alex's fault, my sorrow is for the ending, not for the ride. In any case, I know that I can't keep Alex, even though I think I love him and I want him intensely. He comes back to the room at 3 a.m., I pretend to be asleep.

The next day, Alex is already packed when I wake. He opens the curtains, there's another blue sky, but it belongs to someone else. I sit on the edge of the bed, naked in front of him. I hear the girl in the corridor but I don't care if she sees me. Alex is wearing smart shoes and a shirt. His hair is brushed back again. He looks mature, less carefree. The line of the shirt hugging his slim waist is the only recognisable part of my mischievous, young Alex. His hands brush my morning hair into place. There are tears in my eyes, I can't speak.

"See you later, Théo."

I cry after he has gone, weeping indulgent tears silently for myself. I start to pack and the activity helps. I take my laptop from the desk. Underneath is Alex's white book. There's something in the middle like a pressed flower. I open it, realizing that it is our used condom. It has flecks of shit, and cum is already sticking the pages together. I laugh, the mess is on my thumb. It stinks! Fucking, Alex! I wrap the book carefully inside a plastic bag and put it at the bottom of my suitcase. I know that I won't see Alex again. I know that I need to find an Alex of my own.