The Parade Pt. 03

'Word' / words enclosed by apostrophes = thoughts

"Word"/ words enclosed by quotation marks = spoken words

***

Though the scent of coffee stirs me, it's the plug getting shoved in my ass that actually jolts me awake. Sore all over on a bed that isn't mine, tangled in its sheets, there's dried cum on my face, back, and between my thighs but there he is, looking down at me with a warm smile and offering a mug.

Somewhere on the hardwood floor, my pants vibrate loudly — a text — but before I can panic though, that I've left Teresa in the dark and been gone since yesterday, He calms me, saying "I turned off your locational services a little after midnight. You were talking in your sleep about your little girlfriend and how she'd check up on you."

"Oh..." I wince reply with a half squint, sitting up to take the offered drink but shying from the early morning sun slipping past the curtains, "Thanks?".

"It's no problem," he shrugs and plants a hand on the top of my drink, stopping me from taking a reviving sip as he leans in and kisses my lips with a hum in his throat, "but you should get washed up and head home. You probably want to get back before she does." It's not a threat, just a reminder of what I need to accomplish.

I'm plugged and full of his cum, that hits the only two checkboxes he's got for me...

Tan, bald, handsome, he's a looker and it's hard to think straight as he saunters back over to the kitchen in his boxers, the way his ass fills them out to the casual peek of his uncut cock through the flap.

...but I can't be distracted, he's right. I've gotta get home and with how mercurial the MTA is, it's nigh impossible to know for certain when my train will arrive. With a hasty gulp, tastebuds singed, I race to the shower and jump in, shivering against the instant spray of cold water but bearing it anyway, gritting my teeth in my expediency. Rinsed off, hosed down, I leap out and towel off, shimmying awkwardly into my pants as he watches with a sideways glance, enjoying my flailing apparently but with my shoes and shirt on, ready to leave, he merely winks as I hurry out the door...

Racing, I spare a glance at my phone in hand, a banner text lighting it up and partially reading "On my way home. You up y-"

'Shit,' is the most articulate of my thoughts as I fly down the subway stairs, jump the turnstile, and cram myself through the train's closing doors...

*****

I'd inexplicably beaten the odds.

I'd gotten home before Teresa.

I'd managed to change clothes.

I somehow even had breakfast — pancakes — cooking on the cast iron by the time she got in.

Safe.

Didn't suspect a thing.

...And now hours later as day turns to dusk, sitting on the couch and barely paying attention to whatever is auto streaming on my laptop, I keep my phone tucked in my lap, furtively eyeing it as Teresa flows back and forth between the bedroom and bathroom mirror. She's been trying on different outfits since dinner, preparing her look for a work meeting tomorrow. Gotta impress the higher ups...

I know she's been talking to me but admittedly, I haven't been paying attention, just humming out the occasion "Mhmm" or "Oh yeah?" as a placeholder answers, too focused on my phone...

"What do you think of the navy one?," she asks in passing but my phone vibrates. No texts, no calls, nothing from the usual apps. Swiping through and clicking into a junk folder, I swipe again and tap the old gmail logo.

Loading...

Loading...

Checking...

Just then, a new email pops to the top. No subject, only attachments. 'It's Him,' I think as my pulse quickens, and tapping on the first item within, it takes a moment to download, but finally when it does...

"AGH AH OH MY GAH-Ahhhh-odd," my own sex drunk voice whines through the phone speakers and panicking, I smash the volume buttons until it's muted. But even silenced, it's a fucking hot recording of me backing up onto His cock and riding it.

"What was that?"

"...One of those... weird porn ads," I lie with a shrug, trying to sound unenthused even as my dick stiffens, "You know the ones that pop up on the..."

"Ugh, yes," she groans from the bedroom, "Hate those things! And you have to click out of them like four times just to get them to close."

"Fucking...," I mutter while watching the muted vid on my phone. He recorded himself fucking me, when I had cum all over my eyes. And again when I was sleeping, he was fingering me and the vid shows me squirming like a bitch in heat. My cock stiffens in my jeans, pressed hard against the rough denim.

"Oooo, someone's excited," Teresa teases from the bedroom door and fearful of getting caught, I drop my phone into the crack, out of sight, into the land of lint and pocket change...

But did she see?

Biting her lip, she saunters around to me and wiggles that beautiful ass at me, but then a curious look from her and my heart slows. Looking from my crotch to the laptop and back, she questions "Wait... That's not from the porn ads, right?"

"Oh. Yeah. Totally," I reply with flat sarcasm, "Only got eyes for poorly animated anime characters bearing the message You wont last 5 minutes."

"Pfft, ass," she laughs and climbs into my lap but all I can reply is "All out of witty retorts. Try again later..." as she straddles me, grabbing the sides of my head and crushing her lips against mine. Bizarrely, a wave of exhaustion hits me and suddenly I'm really not in the mood. Weird. My hard on actually goes soft and as she squirms around it, confused, she questions "Wait? Where did..? What happened?"

"Oo... head rush?," I fake wince out in a lie, trying to cover for the emasculating event, but with a pout, she kisses my forehead and hums, "Hmm, you aren't warm. You okay?"

"Think I'm just.." I grunt, squinting, play acting, "...just tired? Damn. This... this is embarrassing."

"No it's not. Can't fight off sleep forever," she smiles softly and climbs off me, offering me a hand up, "Raincheck."

Nodding in agreement, a fatigued smile creeping to my face, I trudge through my pre-sleep rituals. Brush teeth, remove plug, douche, hide douche, wash face, crawl beneath the sheets, lie awake running what I saw of the vids through my head on repeat...

*****

Sunlight slipping through the crack in the curtain — no alarm bells but the weekend's done — I roll over, trying to get my bearings only to groggily find T gone, off to conquer another early work meeting. No phone to check on the nightstand, I slog into the living room, vaguely recalling I'd dropped it down there the night prior.

Dig, reaching, found.

Tap it awake.

43% battery.

9:16 am.

"Huh, not late," I mutter to myself in surprise and start prepping for work. Dressed, I race through my Poptarts, trying not to burn my tongue on the cherry magma within, but I notice a text from 6 minutes ago.

No name, just a New York area code.

Tap.

All it reads is "Take a sick day."

"Who," I tap out, unintentionally scorching my tastebuds, "this?"

The ellipses of writing pops up and soon replies "Exactly who you need it be."

"Fuck does that mean?," I mouth while chewing only to quickly realize 'Oh.' As I ponder how just the hell he got my number, I'm stuck by the sudden recollection, 'When he turned off the gps.'.

Oh.

Clever.

A little anxiety inducing.

Tapping at the screen, my fingers dancing across the lit surface, I type out "...I really shouldn't" in a feeble attempt at evasion but he shuts it down, texting back "Shouldn't, but will."

Somehow, it's easier this way. With a screen dividing us, I can act like he's every other person in my phone, no one to fret. He's got no control, no dominion, and I jokingly tap out "tssk* don't know about that"

"Trust me. You want this."

More entertained than aroused, I smirk as I read this new text, amused by the impotent effect it has on me. No pull, no draw, I don't want to yield or obey.

Interesting.

Or rather it is until cock jpgs — His — flood my screen in the absence of my answer, demanding my attention, and with my fingers trembling, tapping and swiping, my dick stands painfully hard against my slacks. My manhood craving freedom, release, I can't help but shout 'Shit, that's cheating!' in my mind. Text is just that, but visuals, they're so much more...

"Reply," is all he writes now and I can't help but write "Okay. I'll see if I can work it out with my boss."

"Reply with more conviction."

I retype my text several times before ultimately sending out a simple "Yes" but a knock at the door shocks me back to reality and I'm shouting "Just a minute!" as I try to ward off the boner. Teresa must've forgotten something so I hurriedly shove my phone in my pocket and dash to open the door...

"Hey, what'd y—" I start and stop.

My heart pounds.

It's not Teresa.

It's tall, tan, and bald.

My eyes must be screaming every panicked question I have because He cooly explains "I really should know what's going on in my straight boy's life. It's a good thing you have your address and her work schedule in your phone" as he casually walks in, giving the one bedroom apartment a cursory once over. "Really handy," he smiles knowingly and holds up his own phone. He shared it to himself.

"Why," I barely whisper, shocked, sweating, too caught up in this to process.

"You didn't respond to last night's email. Had to make sure you were fine..." and glancing at my ass, even if they are in work slacks, he comments slowly "...and so. You. Are."

"You can't... not here. W-we have to go back to your-"

"So you do remember you're mine."

Evading the statement's rhetoric, not willing to deal in definitives, I instead say "Teresa will b-"

"Teresa," he interrupts, shaking his phone at me, her and my work calendar prominently displayed, "isn't back until at least 7." My blood races, hotter than hell as I stand in stunned silence but he closes the gap and leaning in, he presses his lips to mine, forcing me back against the countertop. Reaching around, he cups my ass and grunts in my mouth, huffing excitedly as he grows emboldened. Though he's the one grinding his crotch against mine, I'm the one that let's escape a soft whine.

'What was th-' I start and stop the unnecessary thought only to hold him tight, hastily kissing him, made all too aware of my appetite. His slick tongue wedging my lips open and wrestling mine, his heated breaths filling my lungs, I uncharacteristically whine again, eager. But he pauses, smiling, flush in the cheeks.

He wants this.

I need this.

And he's been waiting.

As he huffs with excitement, he fishes a couple blue pills from his shirt pocket and — popping them in his mouth — brings his lips to mine again, his tongue forcing one to me as he holds my face in place. I can't fathom why but I swallow it. No clue what it is but I want him to want me, as bizarre as that sounds.

First on his menu of the day, the appetizer, he slow dances us both to the bathroom, tearing our clothes off as he moans deep into me, feeling me up, hurrying us to the shower. Water blasting, warm rain, we climb in but this time, he crushes my bare chest to the cool tile, making me hiss as he forcefully lathers up body lotion in my ass crack. Awkwardly propped, he teases my backdoor with his head, just a bit, before shoving himself all the way inside and leaving me gawking, my face mashed against wet porcelain. Damn does he get right into it, the torrent of rain barely covering the wet slapping of skin on skin, thick cock pounding only recently broken in straight ass. Water flicking off my hard dick as it bobs and bounces between my legs, I actually pout when he pulls out and helps my wobbly, dizzied self out of the shower. Tracking wet watery footprints as we fumble through the apartment, he stops me, bends me over the countertop, and spanks me hard before pouncing, pinning me, hooking two of his fingers up my ass as he hums in my ear "Say you're mine." But I smirk, biting my lip even as my stiff cock knocks against the dishwasher underneath "No? We'll see about that," he challenges and hauls me to my bedroom in disarray. "Hmm. Messy," he admonishes the state of things but noticing it's more T's side than mine, he nods, praising, "Ah, so it's her fault."

But that's enough thinking about Teresa.

He has no time for her.

Only me.

And for some reason, just those few words of praise, pleased in me, I shudder on his fingers as another wave rolls through me. And then he lays me back onto my bed, the sheets still carrying T's scent and it's all so disorienting as he parts my thick thighs and actually dives in, kissing my balls...

My perineum...

My hole...

But then he stops, and I peek past my chest to spy Him rummaging through T's nightstand, sorting through birth control and vibrators, magazines and pens, until finding the lube. Yes, a necessity. The bottle squirts and I throw my head back down against the mattress, bitting my lip as he spreads the cool gel over his bare cock and up my crack, really working it in with his thumb as I moan and tweak my nipples for Him. I want to touch myself, stroke, but somehow that feels forbidden, like it's his job to get me there... and then he's in, inch after fat inch. I thought the shower fuck was foreplay enough but this is wholly different, his main course, and it feels so much better than before, like when he fucked me against the window that first time with all those people below. It's just us two but the thrill is the same, that sensation that at any moment, someone could turn and spot us. It's ridiculous, I know, but I can't help how I feel, and wordless, he grunts and groans into me with my legs wrapped around him.

Though showered clean, our damp naked bodies form a sheen of sweat as he fucks me sweetly, passionately, even after two loads blow from my shuddering dick. Red in the face, he locks eyes with mine and able to read my pleading gaze, he roughly kisses me, his hands pinning mine above my head. I whine and whimper, some sort of brute turned sissy, and he licks up my somewhat hairy chest, tasting my sweat, licking at my pits before coming back down to nibble on my nipples.

"Ahgh-AHHH-ughughhuhh," I moan out inarticulately, just loving Him doing what he wants to me...

Loving... Him.

But I can't think straight

I know he flips me a few times...

The room thick with the scent of our sex...

My ass is so sore but I can't get enough, I just need him in me, on me, filling me, flooding me, so much so that I vaguely hear the door slam and a wicked grin finds its way to his handsome face...

I'm too exhausted to move, too out of it, moaning weakly as he ravages me, but then I hear him ask "Teresa, hi. Can you be a dear and grab me whatever bottled beverage you have in the fridge? Water would be great."

There she is, the bedroom doorway, frozen in abject shock, watching impotently as her boyfriend gets his ass pummeled by an older man.

I'm too hoarse to talk, to yell, to plead.

It's like the lights inside her died.

"Huh," He grunts as he folds me like a pretzel, "Did I say she'd be back at 7? I meant noon. My mistake."

I hear the door slam again, confused tears forming in my eyes, but she comes back, actually holding a water like some broken little submissive, like me...

...but it's really just the overwhelming nature of things, what she thought was reality now crumbling down around her. She can't enter though, just lingering at the threshold but He snaps his fingers, holding out a hand.

Absent, distraught, she tosses it.

Taking a big gulp and splashing some in my mouth, He says "Ah, yes, thanks, that hits the spot" before hitting my spot, making me squirm on his cock as he mocks "I am just blown away at how beautiful you are. I'm really proud of nnnngh you... you two. Such a beautiful.."

Grunting, he slams his cock inside me, my shameful ecstasy dazed eyes locking with hers.

"...Beautiful couple."

He's getting off on this. It's horrifying but I can't do anything. I'm a hot puddle of arousal, lube, and cum. With a grunt, he rolls us both, pulling me on top and having me sink down on his manhood, my eyes rolling into the back of my head as I stutter out "ooohh t-t-Teresuhhhhh-ahhh-UHHHHHH."

"Oh, oh, I am so sorry," he teases and hip thrusts in and out, grabbing my spent cock and aiming it to the ceiling, squeezing it tightly to give it the illusion of being hard, "this yours? Would you like your turn?"

She just stands there like a deer in the headlights, mouthing indiscernibly, clutching tightly to the wooden frame..

"No? Are you certain?," He smirks at her in confidence, "I've filled him up, he's ready to go" and pats my thigh like I'm a used car on the lot.

Cum leaking out of me onto his crotch and stomach, she just stares.

"Okay then... if you're not..." he grabs my head and brings me down, crushing his lips against mine, groaning into me before flipping me off him again — roughly — and crawling up my body, snaking his cock into my dazed and open mouth. An intentional show of force and domination over what should be hers. Shoving deep, I swallow at it, instinctively relaxing the muscles in my throats and letting him go until I gag.

He just can't help but rub salt in the wound, almost jealous of what she and I had and even fucking me, showing off how much I need him, he won't stop goading T...

"Just look at that, exactly where he needs to be," He taunts.

"Oh-gnhhhh-he really mmm wants. This. Thick. Cock," He grunts.

"But you're...allowed to try...ha...try to win him back," he teases and I twitch out a dry orgasm, my lips curving into a O..

I've got nothing left and she's got nothing left to stay for — shakily catching her breath, she bolts, the door shuts but doesn't slam, just shuts, no force behind it, simply abandoned.

Patting my cheek, He shrugs a sarcastic "I could be wrong but I think she broke up with you? Shame," and wipes at his brow, all the while gazing longingly down his own chest at me with my throat full, choking me back to erection. But this course needs a dessert and an idea pops into his deviant mind — leaning forward, really gagging me with his weight behind it, he grabs a pair of T's underwear from the clothes hamper and yanks it over my face like it's a halloween mask, grunting as he face fucks me "Here. You go. Something to. Remember. Her by."

"Waghh-uahh-uahhhh-aghhhh," is all I can gurgle back and he dredges my throat, pulling out so just the head is on my lips and He demands "Smell these until it fades, until you don't want her anymore."

I should care.

But I don't?

I... I grab his ass and suck him in, swallowing him all the way, savoring in his musk and sweat and his satisfied smile as he rocks back and forth at my face, mashing T's yesterday panties against my nose.

I'm fucking drunk on Him.

Despite my obvious compliance, unprompted he mocking asks "What's wrong? Oh. You think you'll miss her...hnggggh her boring pussy?" Shaking his head, unsheathing from my face, even as I try to put him back, he questions "Why would you miss her pussy when..."

"...w-when I have a perfect pussy already? I say while gasping for air

Oh, that did it. A fire ignites in his eyes and He hops back between my legs, spearing himself back inside me, beaming out the question "Your what?! Say it loud" as my asshole hungrily devours him, back and forth on his pill induced hardness.

"Ah?! M-my pussy!," I moan, His everything on my lips and T's pungent odor in my nostrils.

"Hnnnnnn,"he groan, furiously, fervently pumping in and out of me with his smooth, amazing cock, demanding "Again! Say. It. Ahhhh-again" as he holds my ankles above me, bending me to his sexual wants and whims.

"Fuck. Me. Oh god fuck my pussy!" I shout at him, bite my lip, and rub my fingers over his smooth chest while bucking wildly, fucking with a second or third wind, needing this and getting close, his sweat dripping on on my face, he growls "Who's my-my straight boy?!" with teeth bared, brow furrowed intensely.