The Mask

PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here
DWSimon
DWSimon
1,916 Followers

Will stood on his own and walked up to me. He only limped slightly. He wrapped his arms around me and hugged me tight. "That is pure bullshit Cory and you know it. But thank you for saying it."

I watched as Will walked to the bed and lay down, pulling the blankets up his bare chest. I drank in every last bit of him I could. I stood by him, with my hand on his arm until he fell asleep. There I stood for several hours, apologizing silently for abandoning him. I walked away from him and stood for a moment at the door. The tears flowed freely at this point. I silently whispered the words of my heart to him and then left. I drove home and walked straight into the bathroom. I peeled off my shirt and stared straight at my reflection, letting painful memories and harsh words from the past wash over me. I looked my fill until my own reflection blurred, condemning myself because I knew I wasn't going to be there tomorrow when Will got the bandages removed. His first vision didn't need to be that of a monster.

**

I walked through the halls of the hospital. I got rid of that damn walker and was using a cane. It had been two days since they removed my bandages. It was still a little too bright, but I could see. I was so happy at first. I hadn't realized how terrified I was, thinking that my sight loss might be permanent. But my vision is clear, perhaps only requiring some reading glasses. I looked past the doctor when he peeled away the gauze and I could see. But there was no Cory. I had finally gotten him to tell me what color his hair and eyes were: both a dark brown. I was surprised when he wasn't there. By the end of the day, I was furious. I was worried about him. I know he volunteers at the hospital, but whenever I asked, no one seemed to know who Cory was. I didn't even know his last name. It is so damn hard to have people help you find the man you have fallen in love with when you have never laid eyes on him before. But I didn't find him that day, or the next. They're releasing me from the hospital in the morning, but I can't sleep. So I am wandering the halls.

I must have gotten turned around. I was walking along a corridor that was faced on one side with a huge window, like a nursery. But this was unlike any nursery I had ever seen before. There were machines by each of the tiny beds, so many machines. After a moment of staring in shocked pity, I realized that this is where the preemies and sick babies come. I walked a bit further until I noticed someone sitting in the room. He was big. Huge. He sat in this tiny rocking chair with his back to me. He was holding this little, little baby. The baby probably could have fit in the palm of my hand. And this man was stroking its chest, resting the baby in the crook of his elbow. He had dark brown hair that was shaggy, like it had been too long since he had seen a barber, or else cut it himself. I watched in fascination as he switched the baby from one arm to the other with the utmost gentle care. 'Its Cory' was all I thought. He is here, on the other side of the glass. I couldn't see his face, but I knew it was he.

When the baby was resting again in the crook of his other arm, he raised his now free hand and wiped at his face. As the hand left, I noticed the sheen of moisture that clung to his fingers. He wiped them quickly on his pants then raised the hand to the baby. It was then that I noticed the mark on the back of it. I had seen marks like that before. Every firefighter has them, big or small. It is a badge, a talisman. They are the marks of someone who has been burned in a fire. Is that why he wasn't there? Is that why he hasn't been by? My anger grew even hotter. How dare he think that I would shun him because he had been burned in a fucking fire! And then I watched as Cory stood. He walked the baby to her crib; her little arms had stopped waving around, obviously asleep. I watched as Cory stretched his arms up, almost hitting the ceiling. His black shirt rode up on his back. There were other scars there, and from the looks of them, bad ones. My anger faded a bit. Cory had been through some horrific fire and even harder healing process from it. He put his arms down and then rolled his neck. And then I watched as he lowered his head to his chest, almost in utter defeat. My rage faded even more, he wasn't doing so hot either. Hope rose a little in my chest, perhaps he did feel for me, and was just afraid. I moved closer to the glass, wanting him to see me when he turned. I put the best smile I could on, wanting to show him that it didn't matter. Then I watched as Cory turned. The rest of my anger floated away, unable to be sustained with what I saw.

I watched as Cory blanched at the sight of me. His pale face got even whiter. His eye became round and huge in fear, in the need for flight. And I said eye, because Cory only had one. The other was covered by a patch of leather, smooth and supple, conforming to the contours of this face. Under the patch, extending in both directions up and down was the remains of a jagged, deep, angry scar. It bisected his brow and cut deeply into his cheek, curling slightly towards his mouth. Cory's shock quickly faded and he spun from me, putting his face in profile, the masked side away from the glass. I stood on the other side of that same glass, filled with love. His fight with the fire had been brutal. But he had won. I placed my hand against the glass, fingers outstretched, pleading with him to join me. I watched as he swallowed hard, closed his eye and took a deep breath. He slowly turned and walked out the door, joining me in the hall. I noticed he was trembling, but he stared directly into my eyes.

I smiled real big at him. "Cory." My voice was mellowed and husky, thick with emotion.

Cory looked at me, looking resigned and a bit sad. He nodded at me. "Will."

"I've missed you Cory. I looked all over the hospital for you."

His breath hitched in his chest and he swallowed hard. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. But it was for the best."

With that he went to move past me. I spun to follow him, shock stealing my voice from me. He was walking away. I took a couple of steps after him, ignoring my cane. My knee gave way and I started to stumble. I cried out as I fell. But I never hit the ground. Cory had caught me, gripping me to him, holding me in his arms. He lifted me so I could stand. He kept his arm around me as he escorted me to my room. As I walked by his side, my nostrils filled with his scent, soap and a slight aftershave, both spicy and subtle. My hand filled itself with the strength of his back, feeling his heat, his warmth. I smiled at the simple contact as we walked the corridors.

When we got back to my room, Cory helped me to bed. I lay down, with my back propped up high, so I was sitting. I slipped out of my robe, hating how hot the hospital feels. I saw Cory flinch and then stare at my chest. The look was hungry. I started getting hard, feeling his desire feed my own. I looked at him, taking my fill of his body, what I hadn't been able to see before. His legs were long and corded with muscle. His ass was a high, firm, strong confection covered in tight, black denim. His legs strained the fabric. His clothes cupped his sex invitingly. His bulge was mouthwatering. I caught myself, my eyes snapped back to his face. He had controlled his desire. His cheeks were flushed, but he looked straight at me. I knew he was going to leave.

"Cory. Don't go. Please?"

He shook his head. "Will. Please don't. Just, go home tomorrow. Start living your life again." His voice trailed down to almost nothing, so I had to strain to hear it. "Forget about me."

"I can never forget about you. Never!"

"You must." The look on his face was so utterly hopeless, incredibly sad.

"But I love you, Cory."

**

I honestly never thought I would hear the words. They seemed so foreign to me. I was still reeling from seeing him at the ICU. I had thought that he would have been released the moment he could see. But I was wrong. I never wanted him to see me. I wanted to remain a sweet memory, positive and good. But now here I am, in his room. I just wanted to slip away, go home and shut out the world.

The bandages had hidden beauty. Will's hair is a golden, curly mass that he had cut short. His eyebrows were thick and dark and expressive. But his eyes. Oh his eyes! They were a deep, deep dark blue. It hurt to look at him. But I did. I forced myself to stare in his eyes. I didn't know what to say to him. His words made my heart sing. But when he knew the truth....

"Will. It just won't work. There are things you don't know. And when you do know. This feeling you have for me will be gone."

"I don't believe you Cory. I am sure of my feelings for you. If you don't love me; if you can look in my eyes and tell me you don't care for me that is one thing. But just because you got burned in a fire doesn't mean I don't know my feelings."

I looked down at my hand. That scar was minimal. Nothing compared to the others. "It is more than the fire. I killed my mother that night."

I watched as shock flooded his face. I knew it would be easier to just go. But I couldn't. I couldn't leave him like this. So I started telling him. I felt myself go back, reliving each horrid moment. But I told him everything.

"I was seventeen. Our house was divided into two areas. My three-year-old brother slept in the same area as I did. Our bedrooms were above the garage. It was late and I was asleep. I woke to the smell of smoke. I called the fire department from my room. There was a smoke detector, but it didn't go off. I got up and ran for my brother. I grabbed him and ran down the stairs and out the front door. I knelt by him at the mailbox. I hugged him up tight and told him to stay. I ran back inside the house, heading for my mother's room. My baby sister slept in the room next to my parent's. But the fire was in the hallway, nearest to the bedrooms in the back. I ran as far as I could. I got to my sister's door. It was never closed, so my mother could hear her. I ran in and grabbed her and crawled out the window. I ran with her to the front of the house, where my brother was. I left my sister with him and ran back. I made it into the house, but the fire had spread to the living room. I knew I couldn't reach her that way. I turned to go outside, to try and reach her through her window. But something fell on me from above, a rafter or something. It knocked me to the ground. I didn't feel anything but heaviness against me. I rolled away from it and ran outside. I made it to the bedroom window when the house exploded. The window shattered in front of my face.

"I awoke in the hospital. I floated in and out for what could have been months. I was lying on my stomach. The drugs they pumped into me kept me from focusing on anything. I can't tell you how much time I was only slightly aware. I only know I was in the hospital for seven weeks before I was released." I pointed to the patch on my eye. "A part of the window hit me in the face. It took my eye, shredded it. They performed three separate skin grafts on my back. My face was badly damaged. The bones were cut and took a long time to heal. The scar on my face was the best they could do to repair the damage.

"A few days before I was released, I turned eighteen. On that day, I realized that I hadn't seen my family at all. That day I became aware. I pulled myself out of the haze that the drugs had left me living in. I asked about my family. Two days later, my step-father came to see me." My breath started hitching and the words became choked. "He had always been happy to see me before. He told me my mother was dead. She had died, long before the explosion, of smoke inhalation. But she was gone." I turned away from Will, not willing to see him look at me with revulsion. "He told me I had killed her. He yelled at me and told me it was my fault. He kept telling me how I knew how tired my mother was, from taking care of the baby. How she was so tired she couldn't hear the smoke detectors. He kept telling me if I hadn't been so lazy, if I had been a better son, if I had been good....

I wiped my face angrily, furious that I was crying. "I hadn't seen the damage to my face yet. I knew there were bandages, but not what was underneath. The doctor had removed them just before my stepfather came into the room. He looked at me and told me that a monster who would let his mother die would always show his true nature. He left shortly after, moving away from the area and taking my brother and sister with him. I haven't seen any of them since."

Now that my story was wound down, I saw things again. I saw the room we were sitting in. I could see the window and the rising sun outside it. I was going to look at Will, just to see his horror, his revulsion. But a doctor and nurse came in first. I stepped away, but didn't leave the room. I stepped into the connecting bath, to wash my face as they talked to Will.

**

I sat and listened to every word that Cory said, pain and anger swelling inside me. Pain for what he had gone through and losing a parent so tragically, the pain of recovery, the pain of discovery. But anger was almost a greater emotion. I was furious with Cory's stepfather. I understood the man's grief. I had seen it so many times in my profession. But it wasn't Cory's fault. It sounded so much like guilt talking. I have a strong suspicion that the batteries in that upstairs smoke detector were dead. It happens so often. But it wasn't his fault. And those cruel, spiteful words were said at that one moment when Cory needed love and support instead. It explained so much. Why he only visited me at night. Why he volunteered at the hospital. It just made so much sense. I wanted to kiss him, hold him. But the doctors arrived before I could reach out to him. I watched as he moved into the bathroom, thankful that he hadn't bolted.

Within minutes the paperwork was done and I was released from the hospital. Cory came out of the bathroom just as the wheelchair arrived to take me to the door. I hadn't known what time I would be leaving, so I didn't have a ride arranged. I looked up at Cory, and told him we needed to talk and privately. He agreed and walked with me to the door and then I walked to his car. He drove and asked me where I lived. I told him his place was probably closer and suggested we go there to talk. He got kind of uncomfortable, but I insisted. After a couple of minutes, he agreed. He drove downtown, parking across the street from a two-story building, which had a business on the first floor. He led me to a staircase and we climbed up to his apartment. When he opened the door and let me inside, I truly didn't know what to expect. But what I saw nearly broke my heart. On every wall of his living room, every square inch that wasn't a window or door was covered in floor to ceiling bookcases. Every shelf was stuffed full of books. Curiosity had me walk further into his home, snooping where I normally would never have. Each room I entered had more and more books. The hall to the kitchen, the dining room, a bedroom and even the hall to the bedrooms all covered with shelves and books. I stepped into his kitchen and saw evidence of a good cook. Fine knives and good cookware, and sitting by the sink was a dish rack. There was one plate. One glass. One fork. All spotlessly clean, but so stark in its solitary place. As I looked around, I saw all the evidence of a man who had no one in his life. There was no one for Cory to love and care for, and no one to care for and love Cory until now.

I took Cory's hand in mine and led him to the bedroom. The one across the hall was stuffed with books and workout equipment. In Cory's main bedroom was a queen-sized bed. We'll have to get a king, but that's okay. I sat on the edge of the bed and pulled him to sit by me. I looked in his face, so sad to see fear and apprehension crowd his features. He may have been scarred from the fire, but he was still beautiful. I smiled at him. It trembled a bit, but mostly because my emotions were so strong. I lifted my hand and felt horrible because he flinched. But I lay my hand gently against his face, the unscarred side. I stroked his cheek with my thumb and watched as his eye closed and he pressed his face into my hand. I lowered my mouth to his and brushed his lips with mine. I felt his body tremble at the contact of our lips. I slowly deepened the kiss, pushing my tongue into his mouth, coaxing him to touch and taste me. I felt his breathing quicken and his pulse jump. I put one hand behind his head, keeping his lips against mine as I continued to kiss him. My other hand roamed his body, sliding up and down his side, feeling the wealth of muscle and warmth. I moved my hand to his shirt and started unbuttoning it. I slipped each button out of its hole, moving down his chest. As I unclasped each one, I felt the warm, soft skin underneath. His chest was devoid of hair. His muscles clenched and released quickly each time I brushed against his bare skin. I lowered his shirt off of his shoulders, skimming it down his body. I kept kissing Cory, feeling his tongue brush my own as I slowly worked him out of his clothing. I watched him as I kissed him. His eyes were shut, the lashes fanned over his cheek. He was so beautiful to see as his skin flushed from excitement, from arousal.

I unsnapped his pants, pulling the zipper down. As I moved, I felt his erection against my hand, pressed into the soft cotton of his underwear. I was so hard myself. I pushed Cory back onto the bed, following him down, still kissing him. But I wanted to feel him naked against me, so I slowly broke the kiss. I looked down into his face as he slowly opened his eye. I grinned down into his face and he tremulously responded in kind. I touched his muscular chest, feeling his body break out in goose bumps. I rose up and pulled my shirt over my head. Cory reached out, as if to touch my body, but he pulled back. I reached out and took his hand and placed it against my chest. Slowly he started to move his hand over me, feeling the swells of my muscles. He ran his fingers through the hair on my chest. I felt my own body tremble at his touch. I sat still as Cory explored my body. At that moment I realized that he had been alone since the fire and he hadn't been with anyone before. This would be his first time. Emotion swamped me and I kissed him again. I moved my lips against his over and over, tasting him, becoming lost in the sensual haze that seems to always swamp me when I kiss someone I love. Eventually, I broke the kiss with a loud moan, resting my forehead against Cory's.

I sat up and finished pulling his pants from him. His erection stood thick and long, straining inside his underwear. I pulled the briefs off him, amazed at what I saw. Cory is probably the biggest man I had ever seen. He was hung and huge. I leaned down and flicked my tongue against the flared underside, just below his head, trailing the tip up to his slit, taking a few drops of his pearly excitement to savor in my mouth. I looked up at his gasp. Cory's body was trembling hard. I slipped off the rest of my clothes and lay down beside him, half facing him. I placed my hand over his heart and could feel it beating hard. He turned his face towards me, his throat working hard, trying to swallow. I kissed his forehead and placed my hand over his erection. I squeezed him once and then moved my hand forward until the tip was resting in my palm. I watched Cory's breath hitch in his chest. Then I pulled my hand down his length until my fist reached his balls. I kept up the motion, moving slowly from base to tip, over and over. I watched as his body curled inwards and his head fell back. I could feel his body tensing beneath my hands. Then his shaft thickened and got even harder just before it twitched hard, jerking in my palm. He cried out, hoarse and low, over and over as I watched his semen erupt from him. It went everywhere. I watched as it splattered his chest, pooled on his stomach and coated my hand. Cory's body slowly calmed. I took my sticky hand and brought it to my mouth, gently tasting its shiny, slick coating. I looked into Cory's face; he had seen me taste his semen. It was as if some switch was turned on inside him. He grabbed me and started kissing me, deeply, pushing his tongue inside me. I met him in everything he did.

DWSimon
DWSimon
1,916 Followers