Landon #3
The room around me shifts, transporting me to an open, sunny beachfront as fog rolls over the white sand. The waves crash softly, salt and sun filling the air as Nathaniel peers down at me, concerned and completely in control.
“How about this?” he asks softly. “Does this feel better?”
“I… I don’t…”
“This?” he presses, and the beach shifts into a large field of wildflowers. Somewhere in the distance, a cow moos.
“You’re confusing me,” I breathe out. And I don’t just mean the sudden changes of scenery; I mean him. Why is he doing this?
“One more,” he murmurs, and the field around us fades into an endless night, packed full of soft, beautiful stars.
And Nate is gone. It’s just me, all alone.
I take a deep, calming breath.
“There we go,” I hear him coo, and I know he’s somewhere near me, considering we’re still in his bedroom, technically, but he’s not here. Not visibly.
Slowly, I lift a hand, brushing it through one of the stars within reach and watching it ripple.
“You don’t have to have everything figured out, little Lanny,” Nate says softly. “It’s okay to be uncertain. To be scared.”
Everything inside of me calms at once.
“Touch me,” I whisper back. “Don’t appear, just… just touch me.”
I need it. I need his big, confident hands and his warm breath. But I also can’t handle looking into his eyes, not when I’m this confused about what I’m feeling and what I want.
Calloused fingers graze my cheek as I stare at the stars, my body shuddering under the feeling. I can feel his soft exhales against my face, so I know he’s close, but the infinity around me is so beautiful, so bright that I can almost think of nothing else.
“Like this?” Nate asks. “Or like this?”
Suddenly, his invisible palm presses against my jeans, my soft cock reawakening at his touch. My hips snap forward roughly, shoving into his hand as I grunt.
He rubs gently, a tentative question as I begin to pant.
“Nate,” I gasp, my brows furrowing as my head tilts back, and I stare at the glowing stars. “Don’t stop.”
“Okay, babydoll. I’ll fix you. I’ll make everything better.”
And I believe him. As his hand unbuttons my jeans and slips into my briefs to pull me out, I’m certain he can fix me.
Not just through this sexual touch, but all of it. The illusions, the calming tone of his voice, the certainty that he’s here, even though I don’t have to see him.
“Just feel me, Lan,” he murmurs, his lips pressing against my ear as I shake. “Let me take it all away.”
I groan, shoving up and into his hand as he pumps me. Normally, he would not let me get away with this. He’d say something like, “Take what I give you, boy,” and smack my ass. But right now? I guess he’s feeling pretty forgiving.
Or maybe he just pities me.
“You should’ve come this weekend,” I’m suddenly saying, and I realize too late that tears are falling from my eyes. “You should have been there to stop it.”
“Stop it?” he repeats, gripping me harder.
I shake my head, unable to say what it is without feeling like a total loser. How do I tell him about my depression when there is nothing actually wrong with me? Why do I want to tell him?
And as I moan, his palm twisting over the head of my cock, he adds, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”
I look down, taking in my hard, leaking dick. It’s jumping and pulsing, but visually, nothing is touching it. Or no one, technically. It’s just me.
“Say I’m not horrible,” I plead.
“You can be so, so good when you want to be, sweet Lanny,” Nate tells me.
And it’s not what I wanted to hear, but close enough to have me coming in his hand as I feel some empty hole inside of me fill up, just a bit.
My hands snap out, feeling the hard ridges of his body, even as I can’t see him. I bury my face in his neck, breathing him in. I’m taking all of the comfort he’s offering me greedily and giving him nothing in return. Nothing but my come.
As the pleasure recedes, I take a deep breath, suddenly incredibly embarrassed.
Freaking out over him hating me, and then freaking out over him maybe not hating me? Pathetic.
“Do you want to come back?” Nate asks softly, his—hopefully—clean hand running gently over my back.
“No,” I answer, shaking my head lightly. “Can I fall asleep like this? Here?”
It’s silent for a moment, and then I’m being picked up princess-style, carried through the endless, star-filled sky. He lays me on what I assume is his bed, and I can feel it as he takes my pants and my t-shirt off, brushing my hair from my forehead.
“I’m going to go clean up,” he tells me, and his touch leaves with him.
“Will you come back?” I ask, my eyes searching the sky above.
“I’m not leaving the room, I promise.”
I can’t hear his movements, so he must be cleaning himself quietly, most likely to avoid disturbing me. I wait, fiddling with my hands, until I feel his presence again—his big arms wrapping me up and pulling my back to his chest.
“Sleep,” he commands. “I’ll leave you in the sky until you do.”
And as my body relaxes into his arms, he truly does.
Until the moment I drift away, I stay right there, floating in the endless night as he holds me so tightly I’m kept from falling apart completely.