Bent Ch. 03

Hot in the City

As spring turns into summer, my life starts to fall into a predictable routine of sorts - I see Ethan, we fuck like animals, I'm shocked and repentant, (though it must be said, I'm less and less repentant as time passes). I have a period of 'sobriety' where I'm able to live my normal life, (though in truth, I've started to notice that this sobriety seems to be shorter with each passing escapade). This sobriety inevitably gives way to thirst. Desire. The darkest I've ever known. It consumes me, wracks me. Leaves me unable to think of anything else, until at last, a text. From him or from me. A plan, a time, and then finally, relief. The sweetest relief imaginable, before circling right back to shock and repentance.

Rinse. Repeat.

Though I'm physically charged almost every waking minute, I'm mentally drained. So much so, that it took several visits to Ethan's before it actually occurred to me that I was cheating on Jess. What Ethan and I do feels so different, so other, that I actively didn't realize that I'm being unfaithful for an embarrassingly long time. When it hits me, I feel terrible. Jess is an amazing woman and I'm the one who pushed to be exclusive with her. She's a wild girl at heart and I've tried to tame her, only to screw around behind her back. Guilt gnaws at me and I'm finding it harder and harder to know how to act around her. I go through phases where I dote on her and initiate constantly, trying to make up for what I'm doing to her, and then phases where I don't. Should I be sleeping with her when I'm thinking of him? No, probably not, but if I don't, won't she feel like I'm not attracted to her anymore?

Round and round I go.

What with the Ethan-induced madness and the Jess-induced guilt, I am a mess. Juggling work and my very complicated private life is wearing me out, but at the same time, I have never felt more alive.

In this vaguely unhinged spirit, I arrive at Ethan's one evening. It's been over a week since I've been here and I'm rampant. Absolutely outside myself. Something has occurred to me recently; I've noticed that when I'm with him, we fuck and we suck, but we don't kiss. I seem to have taken great exception to this, because within seconds of arriving at his place and the door bolting shut, I've shoved him against the wall and I'm leaning in close to his mouth. He moves his face to the side, just a little bit, almost imperceptibly, but its more than enough to inflame me. I wrap my hand around his throat and turn his face toward me forcibly.

"Tough Guy, huh?" I hiss, "Happy to fuck me but too scared to kiss me?" My voice is tight and from the quick flash in his eye, I know I have his full attention.

"Fuck off!" He says playfully, trying to lighten the mood, as he pushes me off.

This little push, the struggle, ignites a primitive part of my brain. The part that likes to fight. I grab his wrists and push him hard against the wall pinning him back, hands at the sides of his head. Another flash in his eyes. Slow recognition this time, understanding that every time he's over-powered me, I've let him.

"I said, are you scared, Tough Guy?"

He moves his face away again, but maybe he's as susceptible to my heat as I am to his, because it doesn't take long before he's looking at me. Those wild eyes. Eyes unlike anything I've ever seen. When he looks at me like this, I have a quiet certainty that every other pair of eyes I've ever looked into have been veiled in some way. But not his. When he looks at me, there's nothing standing between us. Even though everything is unspoken, there are no veils between us. Silence fills the room, except for the sound of us breathing and the sound of my pulse racing through my veins.

"Yeah," he says finally, no more than a whisper, "I'm afraid."

His honesty unmans me, clenches my guts and leaves me breathless. I want him. I tear my eyes from his, downward, to his mouth. He swallows hard. I want him so much. I see his lips part, his perfect white teeth, a hint of his tongue. My heart pounds as he leans in. I want this. Our lips melt together, hungry tongues find each other and dance together, rhythmic, tribal.

Two serpents coiling together.

We groan into each other's mouths as we grind our bodies against each other. Our hips, our chests, our height, our bulk. Our sameness. It feels never-ending. Like the first kiss I ever had, I'm drunk from it, but unlike that kiss, which felt good because of the promise of what it would lead to next, this one feels different. This kiss feels like sex itself.

When we finally come up for air, we don't lose a second. We tear at each other's clothes; he loses a button and I hear the seams of my t-shirt ripping.

"What about you, huh? He murmurs, "You scared of what I'm going to do to you now?"

I can't speak, I don't trust my voice, fear twists my insides and after a beat, I look down and give a quick little nod.

"Hmm," he says, somewhere between a laugh and a word, "You should be, Irish."

We don't make it to the bedroom. Hell, we barely make it to the sofa. I try to get on my knees, our favored position, but he turns me round and pushes me down on my back. I don't want it like this. I don't want him to see my face as he fucks me. I try to get up, but he's in the position of power now, kneeling over me and he pins me down, arms at my sides. I struggle, which seems to please him. As he lets out a low chuckle.

"You can't run away from it, boy."

His intimidating alpha tone undoes me. I know I'm lost, well past any point of return, my body stills and I take his prep, breathing in deeply, pursing my lips together hard, trying not to moan. I bury my face in my elbow, trying to hide as he prepares to enter me, but he moves my arm, pining it down again. His face is inches from mine. There's nowhere to hide. Our eyes meet as he thrusts. My teeth clench as he enters. I try not to grimace, but I'm only human. The sharp, quick sting of it makes me wince, followed quickly by a long guttural moan.

"Hm, hmmm" he chuckles, "you're feeling that, aren't you?" His eyes are filled with the type of lust that looks something like madness.

"Fuck you!" I snap, making a lackluster attempt to push him away.

"Ha!" A real laugh this time, "Fuck me? Nah, fuck you!" He articulates each word carefully, clearly, punctuating each one with a hard, stabbing thrust. My cock twitches. It must like being treated like this.

He plunges deeper and deeper into me. He smiles down at me maniacally as his frenzy grows. How is he so beautiful? I wonder, and how is he both adorable and an asshole in equal measure? I lose my train of thought, as he runs his hand gently up and down my chest, the light touch, a stark contrast to the violent assault he's carrying out below. At last, he slows his strokes, moving slowly inside me, giving me a quick moment to appreciate the God-like sight of his abs as he thrusts. Muscles rippling, knotting every time he drives his hips forward. I don't have long to enjoy it, as he reaches down and roughly wraps his hand around my throat. I gasp and my eyes widen. I'm usually the one grabbing throats. I try to slow my breathing, but he's guiding my hand to my cock and tightening his grip on my neck as I frantically jerk my dick. It's not long before I yell hoarsely, "I'm going to cum!"

And I do. My god, do I cum! He releases my throat as the first wave hits. Blood and oxygen rush to my brain, semen floods out of my cock, thick ropes of it, pulsing again and again. He rips the condom off and yanks his dick feverishly. I'm filled with an inexplicable desire to be covered in his seed. I don't know why, but that's what I want. I gasp in satisfaction as he spurts hot loads of it over my belly and chest.

He groans quietly as he runs his hand over my belly.

His. Mine. Merging together.

*

Afterwards, I shower and he cleans up in the basin. The evenings' shenanigans have been intense, even by our standards. The air is thick and I feel the need to clear it.

"Um, do we need to talk about this?" I ask, as I turn off the faucet.

"Oh, shut the fuck up," he laughs, rolling his eyes ever so slightly, "don't be such a pussy." He gives me devilish smile, as he flicks my ass hard with the tip of his towel. I jump and laugh, despite myself.

*