Roan

It was late July when I found Roan. Or rather, when he found me.

Amid the abandoned cars and boarded-up storefronts of Finley's single main street, a scrap of a young man jumped out and pointed a knife at me.

"Give me your food," he demanded.

His light skin, deeply tanned by the sun like most of ours these days, was curiously clean. His clothes were too, though patched and worn. The knife looked well taken care of, even more so than the rest of him. He held it loosely and didn't wave it around, which possibly meant he knew how to use it.

His frame, though thin enough that his cheek and wrist bones clearly pressed against the skin, didn't cross over into gaunt. Obviously, he had some ability to forage and survive, which was a rare feat these days.

After the pandemic, just being alive was a rare feat, I supposed. He was the first person I'd seen in two days.

As I considered giving him the food, the tip of his tongue darted out over his cracked lips, betraying his nervousness. A wicked idea flashed through my mind before I tried to kill it.

I didn't try very hard.

"No," I said slowly. "I don't think I will."

He handled the refusal without getting jittery or angry, and I could practically see the gears turning in his brain. I ticked through the list that he was probably compiling right now. I wasn't scared of the knife. I was over a foot taller. I didn't look as malnourished and was likely stronger than him.

Truth be told, he should have considered those things before he'd tried to rob me.

I saw it in his eyes and the slight hunch of his shoulders when he decided he couldn't take me. It was a smart move. The government had put a lot of time and money into teaching me how not to lose fights.

"I'll trade you," he said finally.

I could see the straps of a backpack over his shoulders, so his offer may have been genuine.

Regardless, I shrugged. "I doubt you have anything of value worth trading for."

He processed that quietly, dark eyes flicking around to continue cataloging our surroundings. I appreciated that. If I didn't think he'd knife me in my sleep, I'd almost consider traveling with him.

His tongue darted out again as he licked cracked lips. "I'll trade you for sex, then."

That startled a laugh from me.

Red crept up his neck and across his cheeks. His chin jutted out stubbornly. "I heard you, two nights back. With the man in the store. You gave him food for sex."

I had.

Against all odds, an accountant had survived the last few years on his own. We'd met in passing, him traveling South for the colder months, and me heading West. He hadn't even tried to threaten me, just sent one appraising look down to my crotch and offered himself for the night in exchange for the meat I was getting ready to roast.

I'd fucked him twice that night and once in the morning. We'd parted ways amicably in the morning light. I hadn't seen any trace of the kid then or anytime after. But he'd seen me and gotten close enough to hear the conversation. That was disturbing.

I tipped my head to the right, eyeing him. "How old are you anyway? Seventeen? Eighteen?"

He might have been a bit older. I didn't really care, but it seemed to rile him up, which amused me.

"Old enough to not want to starve," he snapped.

I nodded, which seemed to pacify him for the moment. Scratching my head, I mulled over the logistics of it all.

"Fine," I relented. "You let me fuck you for a night, and I'll feed you. Our shit stays in the other room, and you stay with me for the night. I don't want to wake up with your knife in my gut."

His mouth pinched into a thin line, but I could hear his stomach growling from here, so I knew he'd agree.

The knife dipped back behind him and disappeared. He didn't have to look to sheath it, which was another sign he was well-practiced.

I pointed off to the left. "We're going that way. You lead, and I'll give you directions. When we get there, you're going to strip and leave your shit in the front entry. Then I'll make us some food. Got it?"

He scowled but started walking.

I asked his name as we traveled. He spat it back at me waspishly as I directed him through the town. It didn't bother me that he'd know where I was staying. I'd only been there for a few days, and I'd be leaving tomorrow anyway.

When we reached the house, I made him strip in the entry. Reluctance thrummed through every muscle in his body as he set his gear aside. He kept casting wary glances back at me like he expected me to jump him as soon as he gave up his weapon. My own pack was already in the corner, so I crossed my arms and leaned against the wall, trying to look as non-threatening as possible.

The shirt and jeans came off more slowly. Then he crossed his own arms, almost daring me to comment. He was lean, his wiry muscles competing with all too prominent ribs. A light smatter of hair dotted his chest, and a dark trail led to the waistband of his ratty boxers.

"That wasn't the deal," I said, reminding him. "I'm not moving until you have complied with the pre-established terms."

He hesitated, maybe waiting to see if I'd give in or maybe just so far out of his comfort zone that he couldn't help it. Finally, he hooked his thumbs on the waistband and shoved the boxers down to his ankles.

His cock was maybe three inches, soft. The shaft was pink and slim, protruding past a curly burst of dark pubes. Circumcised. That was all I saw before he cupped his hands to cover himself.

"Alright," I told him, ignoring his glare and motioning down the hall. "To the kitchen. March, Roan."

He bristled, but I just waited. Eventually, the growling of his stomach must have urged him on, because he turned and stomped down the hall. I stared at his ass, just barely rounded and firm, and tried not to drool.

I took mercy on him in the kitchen and gave him a hand towel to cover himself. He sat on the stool and silently watched me cook the pair of quail I'd trapped earlier this morning. He devoured his and quietly tried not to stare at mine. I sighed, pushing my plate over. He ate it just as fast, gulping down the water I'd set out between his desperate bites.

When he was done, I took a firm grip on the back of his neck and steered him to the bedroom before he could run.

"On the bed. Stomach," I told him.

He complied with shaky movements. Reality was clearly starting to set in for him, and I wasn't sure he'd ever been fucked before. He cleared his throat, face buried in the crook of his arm. "Just don't hurt me too much...down there. Please."

Definitely. Definitely had not been fucked before.

"Listen," I said, aiming for reassurance as I tossed my clothes aside. "I'm an asshole, but I'm not that much of an asshole. This night is for me, but I'll try and make it good for you too."

He stiffened, and I tried to figure out how my words had somehow made things worse.

I gave up after a second, clambering up onto the bed between his legs. Snagging the small tube of hotel lotion from my pocket, I slicked up my fingers and went searching for his hole.

He flinched violently and went ramrod stiff, butt cheeks clenching magnificently. I pried them apart, rubbing and tapping at his furled entrance to spread the lotion around. I slid one finger in past stiff resistance, working the lotion in and out for a time before adding a second digit.

"Try to relax," I urged him, still feeling resistance with every stroke.

He didn't relax. Instead, fine tremors rocked him.

I sat back on my heels, frowning. "Okay. This is not going to work. Turn on your side a little."

He did, and I slid in behind him, wedging his knees apart with my leg as I pressed against his back. I stroked his chest a little, trailing my fingers around with slow liquidity. I never stopped in one place, just played over the soft skin in smooth circles until he relaxed against me.

Basic human desire was to be loved and accepted. He'd likely been without touch for a long time, and it didn't take much for him to lose the rigidity.

I trailed the lotioned hand lower, gliding it along his flaccid cock. He jumped, but I had already resumed the wandering strokes. At the point when he stayed relaxed, even as I touched his cock, my hand ventured down more and more frequently until I was pleased to find that he was at half-mast.

My fingers continued to wander, occasionally tweaking his nipples or just giving his cock a single stroke. When he wiggled his butt into my groin, my cock started to plump up, definitely interested in the warm body gyrating against it.

He pressed against me with a helpless whine when I stroked his cock and moved farther down to massage his balls, so I took it as a sign that he was ready.

I grabbed a little more lotion, encased his cock in the hard cage of my fingers, and stroked him roughly. As he gasped and squirmed against me, I increased the pace. Tightening my other arm around his chest, I jacked him harder and ground my hips against him.

The semi-dry friction against Roan's ass made me hiss, but it felt good nonetheless. When the tip of my cock caught the rim of his ass, Roan let out a wild grunt and tried to shift away. As I pressed closer and kept up my relentless stroking, Roan's hands came up, scrabbling at my arm as he tried to get away from the constant stimulation.

I didn't let him.

It wasn't too much longer before his body jolted and shuddered against me. He gave a wordless shout, and I stroked him a few more times before letting him go limp. Reaching between us, I directed the tip of my cock to his twitching hole and continued grinding and bumping until I'd wedged the tip in and shot my load directly inside.

Roan jerked a little, trying to create distance between us. "I didn't want that," he huffed, panting.

I panted along with him, trying to figure out what he meant. Coming in him was obviously to be expected, so it wasn't that. I cycled back around to his criteria for the night, which was that I didn't tear him open. When it dawned on me, I couldn't stop a breathless laugh.

I swiped a hand across his tight stomach. He shimmied back into me and batted at my wrist as I brought the evidence of his release up toward his face. "You might not have intended to enjoy the sex when you agreed to it, but you definitely liked it at the moment."

He growled, elbowing me in the chest as he wriggled away. I dragged him back and ground my hips tighter, urging a groan from him as he stilled.

"Give me a few minutes," I said. "Then we're going again."

He turned his head and scowled, trying to struggle upright. "No way. I'm done. Food for sex, that was the deal."

"Nice try. The deal was food for the night of sex. We're done when I say we're done." It was just the kind of declarative statement that Roan would hate, which was partially the point. I liked riling him up. He stiffened and exploded into action, trying to twist around to fight me.

We wrestled, and though I had a longer reach and about seventy pounds on him, it was like trying to subdue a feral bobcat. Neither of us was wholly successful, and we jockeyed about, rocking the bed enough that the headboard thumped the wall repeatedly.

It was fun until I eventually pinned him on his stomach, and he retaliated by thwacking his head back into my cheekbone.

I swore, eyes watering as I wrenched his right arm up behind his back. He let out a pained grunt, fighting the hold. I cinched it tighter, knowing any further would cause actual damage.

Roan went still, likely realizing the same thing. When I was satisfied I had him restrained, I shifted my hips to the side until I was only half on him. One ass cheek was exposed, and I rained down blows with my free hand. I didn't have the best angle, but it wasn't long until the skin turned red and hot.

Roan struggled, letting out a few pained grunts here and there, and when I'd deemed that I'd appropriately returned the favor for the headbutt, I stopped. He remained limp under me.

"Now," I said, taking a moment to catch my breath. "Give me a few minutes. Then we're going again."

He didn't fight it as I fingered my cum into his hole. But when my cock started to harden against him, he tried to wriggle away. I spanked him, hard, a few more times until he relented.

I slid back on top of him and settled between his legs. When I released his twisted arm, he pulled it down and around with a hiss but didn't try to escape. I spread lotion over my length and added some more to his twitching hole.

After running my cock down the cleft of his ass and back again, I tapped the tip against his entrance a few times and pressed it lightly against him. His hole was still sloppy with my release, and I forced my way in with minimal difficulty. Roan stiffened as I entered him. I held still, and he let out a shuddered exhale as I remained barely inside.

When I felt him finally relax, I snapped my hips forward. His initial yelp turned into a series of strangled grunts as I hammered him into the bed at a punishing pace. The headboard thumped, calling out my rhythmic thrusting with dull repetition, and sweat slicked down my chest, mingling with the sweat on his back as I humped against him. I kept at it, basking in how tight and hot he was around me.

Eventually, I grew tired, and my lower back twinged. I slowed, hooking my feet inside Roan's calves and forcing his legs even farther apart. He choked back a moan as I speared into him that way for a time.

Adjusting my hands on either side of him, I started rotating my hips at the end of each thrust. Roan's breathing hitched with each grind, and he spasmed back against me, a sure sign that I was nailing his prostate.

I did it a few more times, enamored by the little gasps I drew from him. One of his hands burrowed down, but I caught it and yanked it away from his cock. In response, he ground down against the bedding. And that was just about enough of that.

"Deal breakers don't get to decide when they come," I announced, pulling out. "Up you get."

He shuddered and humped, still trying to grind an orgasm out. I unleashed a torrent of punishing blows to his other ass cheek, hand stinging with the effort, until he relented and shoved up onto his hands and knees.

"That wasn't so hard, now was it?" I chided. Taking a moment to catch my breath, I admired his reddened ass and rubbed a hand over each globe. He relaxed slightly, so I gripped his hips and slammed back in hard enough to make him cry out. I deepened my strokes, smashing into his ass and thighs with powerful thrusts that shifted him up the bed each time.

I pulled out, scooting backward and dragging him down the bed before pushing back inside him. This time, I backed off on the intensity but kept a fast pace, trying to think of anything else besides the growing heat in my groin. When I couldn't hold out much longer, I changed to shorter strokes and circular grinding again.

Reaching around, my fingers skimmed his cock. It was hard and leaking. I fisted it and rubbed my thumb over the tip, causing Roan to buck forward with half a shout. "For someone who doesn't want to enjoy this, you sure seem to like it when I touch your dick."

He whimpered but didn't reply. When he spasmed around my cock, an idea hit me. I held still, leaving Roan trembling but no closer to his release. "If you want to come, you'll have to do the work yourself."

He didn't move for a long moment. I thumbed the slit of his cock, causing him to jolt.

In the end, lust won out over his anger. Roan lurched forward into my hand, stroking his cock through my fingers in a movement that pulled him halfway off my length. He tried to grind against my hand, but I loosened my grip and tugged at him with the hand still on his hip until his only option was to drive himself back onto my cock. I adjusted my angle right before he did, knowing I'd be skimming over his prostate.

He let out a noise, halfway between a grunt and a gasp as his ass mashed into my groin. I ground a tight circle, held the end of his cock firmly, and waited.

Roan drove into the cage of my fingers and rocked back to impale himself again, starting a quick rhythm. Sometimes I ground into him, sometimes I didn't. Sometimes I tightly fisted his cock, and sometimes I kept my touch to a loose graze, reveling in his frustrated moans.

The crest of my orgasm slowly receded, and Roan tired out quickly, though still unable to get himself over the edge.

"Okay," I relented, when the frustrated sobs started between erratic thrusts. "You did good. I'll get you there."

I started a run of quick, shallow thrusts designed to ping his prostate, stroking his cock fully as I went. It didn't take long. Roan shuddered against me, jerking his hips once and then twice into my hand, spunk coating his stomach and the bed.

Cruelly, I kept stroking and thrusting.

When his bliss-filled groan turned into a wail, I let go and moved my hand to his shoulder. I slid in and out of him at a painfully slow pace, waiting for his tight ring of muscle to loosen as the aftershocks faded. When it did, I used the improved leverage to increase the speed of my thrusts and yank him brutally back onto my cock to meet each one.

He took it, muscles slack and compliant as his sweaty skin slapped against mine. I moved my hand again, gripping the back of his neck to shove him down as I fucked into his upturned ass.

My punishing rhythm became a frantic stutter until exquisite heat burgeoned through me, curling my toes as I emptied a second load into him with a groan.

I slumped forward, draping over him and breathing hard. A minute passed, maybe two, before I pulled out. Roan hissed at the movement, and I carefully pulled his cheeks apart. His hole was gaping, and a little red, but not torn or bleeding.

I slapped his ass once, making him twitch. "There. Now we're done."

He didn't move when I ran a wet cloth over him and the bed, just stayed limp and drowsy. When we were both clean, I settled down on my side to wrap around him, and he relaxed against me until we both drifted off.

I woke him twice more throughout the night to make him come.

The first time, from behind him, I spat in my hand and stroked his cock until he woke up. He struggled briefly, managing to land a painful elbow in my stomach, but I locked an arm around his neck and pinned his legs with mine while I jacked him relentlessly. He came with a harsh cry, tendons in his neck snapping tight and spine arching.

It didn't take barely a minute for him to fall back asleep.

The second time, I shook him awake and straddled him backward, stuffing his face in my ass.

"Get the fuck off me," he tried to shout, though it was beautifully muffled.

I spanked his inner thigh to get his attention, leaving a reddened handprint. "If you bite me, I'll cut off your dick and make you eat it," I warned him. "Now lick."

He tried to buck me off until I grabbed his balls in a ruthless grip, leaving him writhing in pain until I loosened my fist. A moment later, a tentative tongue rimmed my asshole. As a reward, I swirled the head of his cock with my tongue, and he started writhing for another reason altogether.

I licked and sucked, enjoying the hard velvet feel of his cock for a few minutes. Pausing briefly to get a finger wet, I sucked hard, pulling my mouth back and drawing his hips up as he followed the warm vacuum. When I urged his hips back to the bed, my finger was waiting, and it speared into his hole, searching for the soft inner bump of his prostate.

He jerked once when I entered him and jerked again when I found it. I curled my finger and stroked, drilling it with relentless precision until he went absolutely rigid beneath me.

Swallowing his cock whole, I sucked and hummed to finish him off. He came with a drawn-out wail and a bare dribble of cum down my throat.