Page 1 of Reluctantly You
Chapter One
Mitch
The mouth around my dick is wet and tight as I grab on to the full head of hair and yank. I hear him gag and my skin prickles at the sound. Fuck yes, this cunt is getting what he deserves. Offering to meet me and suck my cock in a public place—only a whore would do that. And so I treat him like one. A fucking slut begging to be used.
I let my dick slide out of his mouth, and then I shove it back in, listening to him moan as I fuck his throat.
What a loser—a pathetic, needy man on his knees for a stranger. I can see his free hand working his own dick through his pants, getting off on the degradation. He wants this just as much as I do.
But then again, they never complain. I’ve had my dick sucked hundreds of times by random men. In car parks, on beaches, in clubs.
Once even by a cop who pulled me over in the woods for loitering.
They’re always so desperate.
Fuck.
My balls draw up as I hold his face against my groin, smashing his nose against my neatly trimmed pubic hair and forcing him to swallow around me. He loves it, loves choking on me, loves fighting to breathe. When I finally let him inhale, he gasps but doesn’t pull off, only sucks me harder, so rough and desperate that I’m seeing stars.
When I come, I make sure to explode across his face, leaving him messy and wrecked. Marking him, making it hard for him to walk around without evidence of what he just did. And then wordlessly, I pull up my pants and stare down at him, his dick straining from his pants, his face a cum-covered mask.
“Passable,” I grunt and then pat his head like the dog he is, leaving him kneeling in the sand as I trudge away. I never reciprocate. Never. That’s not what this is.
I’m not gay.
I can’t be gay.
The stars are twinkling overhead, the full moon out. It’s a nice spring night, warm and tepid. I shove my hands in my pockets, riding the wave of adrenaline as I stalk along the edge of the shore. It’s always fun cruising for men, for someone to get me off. It’s reckless and dangerous, and despite knowing I could get into trouble for it, I can’t seem to stop.
Maybe I want to get caught. Maybe I want someone to put a stop to this. To put me in my place.
In the distance, I see a party, something fancy and expensive. Something I could never afford, even with all my savings. Under yellow string lights are several tables, a large floral crescent arch facing the crashing waves.
Someone’s getting married, I think, scoffing. Someone happy, someone in love.
My mind swivels to my brothers. Magnus. Max. Both married. To men.
Gay as the day is long.
My jaw clenches, an angry click resounding in my skull.
Gay.
They’re fucking gay.
Although, Matt is too, probably. Judging by the way he looked at that roommate of his. The tender way he carried him around.
I rub at my chest, the euphoric bliss slipping into a pained ache.
They’re together, my brothers, they’ve created a life without me. I wasn’t invited. I’m never included.
My mind flashes to my dad, or who I thought was my dad.
Two weeks ago, my biggest concern was the fact that my brothers had abandoned me, moved on without me, and then I found out that our dad isn’t really my dad at all.
Not biologically anyways.
It seems I’m no one’s.