Chapter 10 #2
Wrapping my hand around my cock, I jerk it lazily as I watch her step into the harness. Kinda seems like a complicated thing, but watching her tits jiggle as she adjusts the straps around her hips and thighs holds my attention.
“Don't be nervous. That'll only make you tense up and make it hurt.”
When she places a knee on the bed, and that purple dick is staring me right in the face, I'm shocked by just how just not nervous I am. She doesn't even have to ask me to lift my legs this time. I do it eagerly, still stroking myself. I'm fucking excited.
Salem’s eyes gleam as she lubes up the dildo before notching it at my hole. “I'll go slow, but you need to tell me if it's too much. Do you have a safeword?”
My hand halts on my dick. “Safeword?”
“Something you'll shout if you need to stop. A hard-limit word that'll pump all the breaks, no questions asked. Make one up right now.”
All thoughts short-circuit. Of all the things I thought I’d be doing tonight, picking some safeword while Salem prepares to fuck my ass was not one of them.
I stare up at her, scrambling for something, anything, when a wall of long hair falls over her shoulder like a curtain of wildfire. Red, fierce. Untamed.
“Colorado,” I blurt with a wince.
She blinks. “Colorado?”
“Yeah… like your hair. Isn't it Spanish for the color red? I don’t know, it just feels right.”
Salem tilts her head, lips twitching, and for a second, I think she’s going to laugh.
But then she smiles softly.
“I don't think that's the right context, but Colorado it is.” She presses a kiss to the corner of my mouth. “Now breathe, baby, and let me make you feel good.”
My head falls back against the pillow as she pushes in slowly, stretching me wide. I hiss at the burn, but it isn’t enough for me to want to stop.
Salem slows and grabs my cock, stroking it softly as a distraction. “How do you feel?”
“Like I've got Thanos's dick up my ass,” I rasp, matching my hips to her rhythm. “Fuck, please don't stop.”
She laughs, withdrawing before sliding back in, and I'm too turned on to even be embarrassed by the fact that I totally imagined fucking Thanos just now. I'll regret that one in the morning. Or after I come. Which honestly might be soon if she keeps hitting that spot—
“Ready for some vibration?” she asks, reaching down to press a button on the Thing before I can even respond.
A choked whimper leaves my throat when a sudden jolt tickles my ass. “Oh, shit. Jesus, I'm gonna come.”
She gives me a filthy moan, a gorgeous flush spreading on her tits as she picks up the pace. “The way you look right now, holy fuck. Your ass is swallowing this cock.”
“I want to see,” I whimper before I can stop myself, attempting to lift onto my elbows, but Salem shoves me back down. She grabs my hips, hoisting them up so that my ankles are practically to my ears and my ass is in the air, giving me a perfect view.
I had no clue I was this flexible, but the sight of my hole gaping around her purple dick damn near sends me over the edge. “Oh, God… Salem, I'm… I'm gonna—”
“On your face,” she pants, quivering from the vibrations against her clit. “I want to see it on your face.”
The angle she has me in puts my cock in the perfect spot for what she wants.
Later, much later, I'll think back on this and be ashamed of how quickly I grab my cock and pump it until that first spurt of cum lands on my chin.
Even more ashamed when I aim up and shoot into my own mouth, tasting myself on my tongue as Salem finds her own release.
The noises and moans she makes are so fucking dirty that I swear it prolongs the experience until my lips are completely coated with cum, bursts even landing on my neck.
I lick it off when she pulls out, swallowing greedily and imagining it as someone else's. Another man's. Pretending that, just for once, these thoughts and feelings are normal and there's nothing wrong with me. But, as always, the afterglow doesn't last very long.
“Holy shit,” Salem breathes, flopping down beside me after removing the harness, hair wild and lips swollen. “That was fucking hot. I’ve never seen a guy do that before.”
She’s grinning radiantly. I wish I could bask in it, too. Wish I could laugh, lean into her praise and enjoy the best orgasm I've ever had in my life.
Instead, my stomach churns.
My brain pulls the emergency brake.
The shame creeps in before I can stop it, echoing a sermon I’ve heard a thousand times. Boys don’t cry. Boys don’t submit. Boys don’t think about other boys.
I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling, trying to ignore my father's voice whispering about sin and temptation and how you’ll lose your soul.
“Logan?”
Blinking, I realize Salem's watching me closely, propped up on her elbow. I force a shaky smile. “I’m fine.”
She reaches for my hand. “Hey. Talk to me.”
But I can’t because if I open my mouth, I’m afraid I’ll ruin everything. God, I've wanted her for so long, and now I finally have her. Here, beside me, naked. Still flushed from the orgasm I just gave her. Well, sort of. The Thing gave her the orgasm, but still—I played a part in it.
So I just squeeze her hand and whisper, “Can I stay here with you for a bit?”
She studies me cautiously for a second but lies back down and curls into my side. We lie there in silence, her breath soft and even against my chest as her fingers trace slow circles on my stomach.
I tighten my arm around her, bury my face in her hair, and breathe in her scent like she’s the cure to something that’s been rotting inside me since I was a kid. Maybe she can be. Maybe what we did is different… because I did it with her?
The guilty thoughts start slowly, just a murmur in the back of my mind.
You liked that too much. You let her take control. You gave in. You’re disgusting.
My fingers twitch. I shift as if I can somehow wriggle out of the shame, like it’s dust on the surface of my skin instead of embedded in every fiber of my being.
Salem hums and kisses my shoulder, but the warmth of her body only makes it worse. My throat burns.
What kind of man lets a girl take the lead? What kind of man spreads his legs to get assfucked and moans for it?
“Logan,” she mumbles, sleepy. “You’re stiff as a board.”
I force a breath through my nose. “Just… cold.”
Liar liar.
I can never tell her the truth—that I feel dirty. That part of me thinks I’ve done something wrong even though every rational thought in my head is screaming: “You’re okay, you’re safe, you wanted this.”
Nothing makes any fucking sense.
She lifts her head to press her lips to my chest, and I flinch before I can stop it. Her body goes absolutely still. Shit.
“Um, what the hell is happening right now?” she asks, clearly aggravated.
“I don’t know,” I whisper. “I think… something’s wrong with me. We can't do that again.”
Salem reels back like I just slapped her. “Excuse me?”
I sit up quickly, wincing at the ache in my ass. “We can’t do that again. I… I thought I could handle it, but I can’t.”
“Seriously? Why didn’t you use your safeword, Logan?”
“What?
“Colorado,” she bites out. “That’s what you picked. That’s what we agreed on. So why the fuck didn’t you use it if you didn't like it?”
“I didn’t think I needed to!” I shout, panic rising in my throat. “I didn’t know something was wrong until afterward. I thought it was okay, but now I feel—”
I cut myself off, chest heaving, not even knowing what word to use. Shame? Filth? Disgust?
Salem scrambles out of bed before yanking on a discarded T-shirt. “Jesus, Logan. I checked in. You said yes.”
“I thought I meant it!”
“Well, I don't read minds!” she snaps, eyes swimming with hurt. “You told me it felt good, begged me not to stop, and now you're acting like I did something wrong!”
“No, Salem, I’m not… Fuck, I’m not trying to blame you!” My voice cracks, and I rake trembling hands through my hair. I've never hated myself more than this moment.
Her shoulders slump as she lets out a breath before making her way out. “I should have known better than to fuck a church boy. Don't let the door hit your sore ass on the way out.”
She doesn’t slam the door. No, that would make this easier. Instead, she softly closes it with a kind of finality that feels worse.
I sit there, frozen in the center of her bed, the sheets still warm from where we were tangled together not five minutes ago. My body aches in places I didn’t know could ache, not because of anything she did, but my own mistakes.
It’s me.
It’s always fucking me.
My eyes burn, and I press the heels of my hands into them, feeling like I could squeeze the shame out if I push hard enough. But it doesn’t budge.
The silence is deafening.
For the first time, I don’t pray.
I just sit in the wreckage I made and wish I knew how to be someone else.