Bound

Chapter 8

"I have bruises, Justin. Bruises!" I whine, holding up my wrists for Justin to see. There are two very prominent purple rings around my wrists.

"I do too. So?"

"Nothing. I just wanted an excuse to talk about that mind blowing sex we had yesterday." Justin laughs and glances over his shoulder before giving me a chaste kiss. We both climb into the jeep and head for school.

"Your ass hurt?"

"Yup."

"Awesome."

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"Chris, please don't make me smack you in the face." I go back to entering grades into the computer.

"But Brian-"

"Chris, I'll do it." I will. Fucker.

"Brian! Just join the football team. It's halfway over already. We need you for the championships!"

"And I need you to shut the fuck up. I already said no."

"Why not?" I pinch the bridge of my nose and sigh. I ignore him and turn to the next test.

Justin Taylor, Period 5. 98%

I knew he was smart as a whip. That's my boy. Chris must have been reading over my shoulder, because he scoffs. I roll my eyes and enter his grade.

"I don't see why the fuck you hang out with Taylor," he sneers. "He's such a fag." I turn and face him, raising an eyebrow.

"How do you know he's a fag?" I challenge. His eyes widen and then narrow.

"I just know," he snorts, smoothing his tie over his chest.

"How? You fuck him?" Yeah right.

"Fuck no!"

"You jerk him off? He blow you?" I ask, noticing his face grow red.

"No fucking way." He gulps and I see a bead of sweat form on his forehead.

Idolize me, fear me, fucking bow down to me.

"Then how would you know he's gay? I'm pretty sure whoever he's fucking is his business, not yours. And you should get off his fucking case before I beat you to a pulp."`

He doesn't say anything for the rest of class, and I am content.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

On my way to sixth period, I hear a gruff voice bark my name.

"Kinney!" I'm not a fucking dog. I spin on my heels to see where the offending voice came from. I see a middle aged guy in khaki pants and a dark green polo shirt. He motions for me to come over to him. I've never seen him before, so…I don't give a shit. I turn back around and head down the hall.

I hear heavy footsteps behind me, and then a hand on my shoulder. I shrug it off and turn to look at him, holding my backpack over one shoulder. I raise my eyebrows. Get on with it or leave me alone.

"Kinney," he starts.

"My name is Brian," I retort. "Not Kinney."

"Okay, Brian. I'm Coach Fielding." Fanfuckingtastic.

"Let me guess, football coach?" I ask sarcastically, looking longingly towards the door of my English class. He nods and claps his hand on my shoulder again. I shrug it off. Again.

"That'd be me." He smiles, and I narrow my eyes.

"Not interested," I say, and then I start to walk away. He grabs my shoulder and I wrench out of his grasp. He's going to fucking lose that hand if he touches me one more time. I narrow my eyes at him. I'm as tall as him, and my eyes are cold and defiant.

"Son, we know all about your reputation. We could really use you on the team," he says. I see the worry in his eyes. I know St. James' team sucks ass (not in a good way). I know all this. I know it just as much as I know that I don't give a fuck.

"I'm not interested." I say through gritted teeth. "I'm done playing football."

"Can't you just finish out this season with us?" He asks. I roll my eyes and shift my bag to my other arm. The late bell rings and I scowl at him. "I'll give you a pass." I sigh and keep staring at him. "What do you say, will you join the team? You'd be lead quarterback."

"No," I tell him. "I don't want to play football. I don't like football." He lets out a little gasp, like he can't believe I don't like the sport. I can't fucking stand the sport.

"You played so well," he says. I roll my lips into my mouth and lift my eyebrows.

"I strive to succeed in whatever endeavors I may pursue," I tell him cheekily. "Now can I have my pass please?" He sighs, obviously defeated, and obviously perturbed that I did not bend to his whim. He gives me my pass and I give him a terse smile as I depart, my footsteps echoing down the hall.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I wait for Justin outside his English class. He's ditching it, whether he likes it or not.

I see him round the corner. My eyes lock on his pale fingers clasping and unclasping around the strap of his backpack. His blond hair falls in his face. He's always looking down. He should look up and face the world with those fierce baby blues. He looks up as he gets closer to me, like he felt my magnetism. He smiles widely and stops about a foot in front of me.

"What's up?" He asks. I put on my most charming smile.

"You don't really like this class, do you?" I ask, batting my eyelashes. He scrunches his face up in confusion, shifting his weight to his other foot.

"I don't mind it, why?" I look around, making sure no one is within earshot.

"Ditch with me." He pauses to consider this for a moment. He looks up at me and smiles.

"Sure."

Well, I thought that would have been a little bit tougher. I smirk and give his tie a firm tug. "Well, come on then," I tell him, turning on my heels. He jogs up beside me and we walk out the front doors together. Most seniors get out early. I can't wait to be a senior. Anyway, we just blend in with the seniors leaving and head towards my jeep. I take the top out of the back and put it on with ease.

"Why are you putting the top on?" He asks me.

"Privacy," I reply. He raises an eyebrow. "Get in." He does. I look around the parking lot. Seniors are walking around everywhere. Fuck. I shift in my seat and start the engine.

"Where are we going?" He asks me as I pull out of the parking lot. I just smile at him and keep driving. He takes it upon himself to fuck with the radio. I pull into the parking lot of this little park I found as I explored the neighborhood on my first day here. There isn't a playground, and the place is thoroughly abandoned. I kill the engine and look over at my boyfriend.

"I had a bad morning," I whine. He rolls his eyes.

"Poor baby," he replies sarcastically. I lean over and lick and suck on his neck a little before sliding my lips up to his ear.

"I want you to give me a really long, really slow blowjob to relax me." His breath hitches and I bite down on his earlobe. I lick it to soothe the sting and pull on his tie. He gets hard when I pull on his tie.

It makes us both think of me blindfolded in the closet, and him tied to the bed.

I tug on his tie harder and he gasps. His head turns into mine and I capture his lips in my own, kissing, digging, clawing at the inside of his mouth with my tongue.

Kissing Justin is like driving down the freeway going 90 with the top down. You think of nothing else, you hear nothing else, you feel nothing else. You just enjoy the ride. It's a thrill; it's the most magnificent feeling I've ever encountered.

When our lips finally part, his face is red and his lips are so swollen. He pants viciously and I lick those gorgeous swollen lips, feeling the silky texture under my tongue.

"Right here?" He asks, voice husky with lust and arousal. I nod and he grabs my dick through my pants.

"Right here," I confirm. We climb into the backseat where there are no windows. I covered the inside of the back windows a long time ago, for this exact reason actually.

I position myself so I'm leaning against the side of the car, one leg outstretched on the backseat and the other bent at the knee, my foot on the floor. He settles himself on his knees on the floor of the backseat. He undoes his belt and unzips his pants, most likely so he can jerk himself off while he sucks me.

God, that's hot.

He leans between the seats and rummages in his bag. I raise my eyebrows and sit up. "What are you doing?" I ask. His ass wiggles in my face and I stare at it.

"I need music," he says, still rummaging through his bag. I slowly pull his pants and underwear down a little, exposing the plump, pale, perfect cheeks of his ass. He turns the key in the ignition to radio only and ejects the CD. I lean forward and slide my tongue along the swell of his ass, tasting his skin. He shudders and I kiss and suck the skin, bringing my other hand up to rub and tease his hole, never penetrating him.

He moans and I hear a new CD start up. His hands move to the back of the passenger seat and grip it as I continue to suck and bite his ass cheek. He thrusts back, trying to get my finger inside of him, but I refuse to comply. I circle the pucker with my finger and then tap it repeatedly. He whimpers and I leak.

When I finally pull away, there's a purple mark on his flesh. He marks so easily. We're both covered in hickeys, thankfully in places easily covered. I slip the tip of my finger inside of him and quickly pull it out, slapping his ass lightly. I lean back against the side of the car again and he quickly turns around again. His eyes are dark with lust.

He positions himself back on his knees on the floor of the car, sliding his hands up my thighs. He undoes my belt and unzips my pants, pulling my hard cock free of its confines. His eyes widen and he licks his lips. I salivate.

He's so new at this, new to me. But when he touches me, it feels comforting, broken in, like he's always been there.

Hey boy, take a look at me

Let me dirty up your mind

I'll strip away your hard veneer

And see what I can find

The music fills my ears, sexy and soothing. His fingers trace the vein on the underside of my cock and my right leg twitches. He leans down, pulling my pants further down so he can get his lips and teeth on my inner thigh. He nips me and I gasp. He nudges my full balls with his nose and ghosts his tongue up my shaft, flicking the tip of it through the pre cum leaking from my slit.

"Nice and slow," he whispers. He sounds high, so far gone. I want to get Justin high. I want to fuck him while his mind spins.

I want to corrupt him until he does nothing right but me.

The queerest of the queer…

"Nice and slow," I repeat dumbly, already succumbing to his magic spell. He puts a trance over me, makes my mind move in slow motion while my body tingles. He sucks so softly on the head of my cock that I should barely be able to feel it, but the pleasure hits me all over, like white-hot needles. I moan softly and slide my hand into his hair, so silky and smooth, slipping through my fingers.

His lips start sliding up and down my shaft, so slowly, so softly. I feel drunk.

I pant and gather a fistful of his hair, not tugging, just holding it. His nails lightly scratch my thighs, both hands. He's not jacking off yet. One of his hands slides up, under my uniform shirt, caressing my abs. His nails are leaving tiny red marks that fade as quickly as they appear. I lift my shirt to watch his hand move.

His right hand, the hand he uses for his art, is making a masterpiece out of me.

The queerest of the queer

The strangest of the strange

This song is so hot. It starts over, and I know he has it on repeat. The beat softly fills the car as I slide my fingers to his cheek, caressing his skin. His tongue circles the head of my cock, tracing the cap and flicking against the bundle of nerves underneath. I gasp and my hip twitches. He does it again, and I repeat the process.

I'm so hard, steadily leaking into his mouth. The fingers of his left hand wrap around the base of my cock, softly squeezing as his mouth pays special attention to the head. Then his mouth leaves my dick completely, and he strokes me as he licks my sac, taking a ball into his mouth and sucking on it. My eyelids flutter and I moan.

I know I said nice and slow, but this is murder.

His mouth leaves me, and his hand leaves my cock. Zero stimulation. I'm suffocating.

He's sucking his fingers, two of them, and I watch in rapt fascination. He pulls them from his mouth and takes my cock into his luscious mouth again. He slides up and down my cock lazily, sucking and licking.

My pants are pulled down lower and my legs are spread. His wet fingers are teasing my hole. Oh yes, violate me.

One finger slips in and he just holds it there as he sucks me. Then he softly rubs the tissue inside of me, dragging his bottom teeth along my cock softly in an upstroke. He suckles the head again as he begins to softly finger me, two fingers, sliding in and out tortuously slow.

I gasp. My body is burning. Someone roll down a window.

The queerest of the queer

The strangest of the strange

The coldest of the cool

"Justin." That wasn't even my voice. I don't even know if I formed his name. I notice the absence of his right hand on my stomach, and I know he's jerking off. His breathing grows more ragged as he sucks me just a little faster. He slides his fingers all the way in and presses against my prostate.

I moan as I grip his hair again. My body tenses and my nipples tingle. I'm so close. He's about to bring me home.

I know what's good for you

You can touch me if you want

I know you're dying to

You can touch me if you want

He deep throats me (he learned so well), and swallows around the head of my cock. I bite my lip. "I'm going to cum, Justin," I say. But he already knows. He's fingering me faster and sucking harder, and I shoot.

This is an orgasm I'll dream about for years.

I pull on his hair a little harder than I mean to, but he doesn't seem to mind. I look down and tug on his tie as he licks his lips. He's still jerking off, the car seat half obstructing my view.

"Stop it, Justin." His eyes flit up to mine, dark and inky. His lips are so swollen, so red.

"Stop what?" His voice is so deep when he's turned on.

"Stop jerking off." His eyes widen and he bites his lip, thinking about whether or not to shake his head. "Stop." His hand stops moving. "Let go." He sighs and pulls his hand away.

"Brian," he breaths, pleading me to withdraw my request. I look down at his cock, red and leaking, begging for release.

"Come here," I tell him, crooking my finger to beckon him towards me. His lips seek mine out. I kiss him back, but that's not what I wanted. "Lay down," I tell him, biting his lips.

I lay him on the backseat, pushing his shirt up to expose his tight little stomach. He stares at me, eyes full of trust. I look him over, my very own feast. He is such a work of art. "Do you want me to suck you?"

You can touch me if you want

But you can't stop

He nods, his hand reaching up to cup my cheek. I bite his fingers and then lean down, taking his dick into my mouth. I suck languidly, returning the favor.

Even at my slow speed, he cums almost instantly, flooding my mouth with the salty substance. Bitter, sweet, and pure Justin.

I swallow it all and pull him up to kiss him. We lick each other's tongues, tasting ourselves. I pull away and rest my forehead against his and we pant, big goofy smiles adorning our faces.

"Feel better?" Justin asks. I laugh and nod, kissing him softly.

"You have no idea."

The queerest of the queer…

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

We both decided that going back to school would really kill our post orgasm buzz, so we decided against it. There's only one period left anyway. So we agreed to go hit Justin's pool.

"Come out with me tonight," I tell him as he swims up to me. He raises an eyebrow.

"Like you have to ask," he says as I wrap my arms loosely around his neck, water cascading from our bodies.

"Well, we've never gone on an actual date," I tell him, kissing his cheek playfully. He smiles.

"You're asking me on a date?" Justin asks, looking around and then back at me.

"Well yeah," I reply, pushing his wet hair out of his face. "Isn't that what boyfriends are supposed to do?"

"I suppose so," he tells me.

"See, so tonight we're going to go out and do something."

"Besides each other?" He laughs, grinding against me. I grab his ass.

"We'll just save that for after our date."

"You think I'm going to put out on the first date?" He snorts indignantly and we both laugh.

"Let's face it, you're a slut for me." He smiles and kisses me.

"This is true."

"So, I'll pick you up at seven," I tell him. He giggles and nods.

"Can't wait."

Song used was "Queer" by Garbage.

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