Taking Out the Competition: John

I adjusted him so that his thick legs were hooked on my shoulders. I looked into his drugged eyes as I sank my cock into him. Entry was surprisingly easy. His hole was all but sucking me in as I pushed forward. And damn, he was so tight. It wasn't long before I was ball's deep in him, feeling that hot tight hole gripping around my length. I never broke eye contact with John as I invaded him. He looked dazed, in pain, and in pleasure all at the same time. He had a pained smile on his face as I grinded my dick around in his hole, opening him up.

Something about that look, really turned me on. Like, I wanted to fuck that look off his face. I couldn't wait any longer. I started to pump into him, Lifting myself up and out of his hole that didn't want to let me go, then coming down on him with all my body weight. "ahhhh... ahhhh, mmmmmmh," John moaned.

"God, he sounds like a slutty little bitch," I said as I took his man cherry.

Not that I was complaining. The sounds I was forcing out of him were as good as or better than those of any girl I'd ever fucked. I felt so masculine and empowered to have this muscled stud at my mercy, enjoying my cock like a shameless whore.

There was a question at the back of my head, though: how could this have happened so quickly? It was still a bit TOO easy. I bore my eyes into John's, maybe trying to find an answer to that question. There was nothing there to see, nothing but two brown eyes glazed over by drugs, foggy with pain and probably a lot of enjoyment.

Instead of figuring out the missing piece to this puzzle, I ended up getting even more turned on. I slammed into him as hard as I could, eliciting sounds that were no match for the jock they were coming out of. I lost it. I joined in with his moaning as I pumped out a thick heavy load into him. And I thought: This is what you deserve, you prick. But to see him enjoy it so much, maybe it wasn't the perfect punishment.

My eye sight had gone fuzzy from my orgasm. When I regained my vision, the first thing I saw was the tiny red dot of Alan's camcorder. He gave me the thumbs up that said 'I got it all, and damn it was good!'

The video. Now I knew how I'd really turn things upside down for my good old buddy.

So, after I emptied my balls once more into his hot hole (what? can you blame me?), Alan and I searched around for the videos Alan had shot the past couple of weeks. Once again, I was surprised how dumb John proved to be. He'd kept all the cassettes under his bed, and hadn't even bothered to make a copy on his computer—trust me, I checked everywhere for it.

We left him in the basement, simple as that. He'd fallen asleep on the couch, cheeks still heavily flushed, when I placed a bed sheet over him. It was weirdly intimate, doing that. I caught myself staring at him for a moment too long before Alan prompted me to hurry up.

A week passed and I hadn't heard from John or Alan. Things were as normal as possible considering my long time buddies weren't a part of it. My pops seemed to realize something was eating me up and, since keeping busy was his remedy for everything, he got me a part-time job at his company. It was nothing special, but I couldn't help but be grateful for the distraction.

The following week, I came home to find my mother with a strange expression on her face. "You have a visitor," she said. At this point, it was the last thing I expected. I went up to my room and my heart dropped immediately. Like, I felt it fall from my chest, through the floorboards, down, down into the pit of the earth. I just wasn't prepared for this.

"Theodore," she said, solemnly, like a prayer.

"A-Ashleen," I croaked.

Three o' clock in the afternoon and the sunlight was cutting through the shades of my window. A sliver of light fell on her, exaggerating the contours of her neck and collarbone. She traced her fingers from her temple, pushing back her black hair behind her ear. A beautiful gesture for a beautiful girl. I remembered all the reasons why she was so perfect. She certainly wasn't the hottest girl I'd ever dated, but she was the smartest, the bravest, the greatest enigma that I was willing to spend my life deciphering.

"It was selfish of me to come here. I'm," she paused for a long time. "I was stupid."

I dropped my things beside the bedroom door and joined her on the bed. The mattress sank down under our combined weight. The sliver of light crossed from one side of her, ending at my leg.

"You're not stupid," I said.

"I was. I—I came here to tell you that. And maybe I shouldn't have... but I need to give us closure. You deserve it. You were nothing but sweet to me. I can give you that."

My heart sank. Closure? I was dumb enough to think, if only for a split second, that this would end in us getting back together. That was the effect this girl had on me. She made me hopeful and scared, and dammit... I really wished she hadn't come here. I didn't need any closure. She broke my heart, shattered the glass door that I had only ever opened for her. The only way to close it now would be to pick up all the pieces. It was something only I could do.

She laughed an airy, forced laugh. "I broke up with you because I was never going to make you happy."

"Bullshit!" I said. I already didn't like where this was headed. "Bullshit! You were scared. Just admit it! You probably thought it was only going to be a short-term relationship. Who could blame you? I never stayed with anyone that long. But I fucking loved you. Like, more than I've ever loved anything. And maybe I shouldn't have made it so obvious. It was too intense. I get it."

"It wasn't too intense! The only reason you were into me so much was because I wasn't as invested as the girls you had been with before. God! You can be really dense! You've romanticized our entire relationship. The truth was, you never really cared to know me. Not at all.... Any time I opened up to you, I dunno, I could feel you pulling back. Do you want to know what you love more than anything? Sports, sex, and that friend of yours—John."

"What???" I was truly confused now. How could she think I didn't care about her? I was still hurting after all this time. And what was this crap about John that she was on about? "I care about you loads! Ask me anything about you."

Favorite color? Favorite movie? Father's name? Where was our first date? I couldn't answer a single question right. Though, who cares about those little details anyway? Loving a person... isn't just about knowing every little thing about them.

"You don't know anything about me," she said. "But you know everything about John."

"That's not fair. He's my best friend."

"And you always talked about him. Not a day, not an hour went by that you weren't talking about him. I just got jealous. I'm sure you really think you loved me. But, Theodore, you've got to snap out of it. I'm not the one you love. But I'm okay with that... And once you admit it to yourself, you will be too."

She placed a hand on mine, lightly kissed me on the cheek. "I just want you to be happy, Theo. That's why I came here. And what happened with Alan—that had nothing to do with us. It was poor judgement on my part. This got a little more heated than I intended. Just... take care of yourself, okay?"

And so, Ashleen left. I knew it would be for the last time. I watched, speechless as she let herself out. Still, something lingered after she left. It sat beside me, heavy as an anchor, something that I needed. A forgotten, misshapen puzzle piece, proffered and eager to be placed.