before your eyes

,,,; 1 ;,,,

late february. a typical debauched night in stevens apartment. he would be plied with booze. weed. blow. acid if he was lucky. all at stevens giving hand. robert could never tell which one of his treats had the aphrodisial qualities that struck him so deeply but he was sure it was the reason each night would slowly devolve into such filthy fun. his head would be completely out of his mind. stumbling. swimming. sensitive. submissive. steve would pull him close. roaming hands. showing him off.

steve had always got a kick out of corrupting robert. he was the first person to bring him to a gay bar. to dance with him up close and personal there. the first man to kiss him. he reveled in roberts innocent clumsiness. he pushed robert to his bed and vowed to do things to that man. that boy. that he had never even dreamed of, and oh how well he took to it.  after the cure had dissolved and 'the other one' left the picture, robert seemed to welcome each advance with a filthy bat of his eyes and a teasing shift of his legs.

  severin wasnt sure if he was the first man to push roberts head down onto a cock. but he knew for certain he was the first person to finger that man. to fuck him. that moment where he found roberts prostate he saw the walls of that sweet suburban boys masculinity collapse. completely ruined and begging like a woman. he burrowed into the sheets. shamefully whimpering for more. but after that night severin wanted to keep pushing him. this became much easier after he cut contact with the other one. the only man steve felt could truly threaten his plans for robert. finally he had this lovely malleable boy in his apartment. under his thumb. ready for any debauched activities that were thrown at him.

robert had been comfortably nestled in stevens lap. hed had a bit too much. he needed a moment to steady himself; but he was lifted from his reverie of bliss when he felt himself being moved out of steves lap so he was kneeling on the couch. leaning onto the back of the couch to steady himself. 'look at that eh' steven grabbed his ass. shaking it through his leather pants. robert cooed softly. 'hey 'ave a feel' his voice was dark. showing robert for the whore he knew he could be was stevens favourite party activity. another hand. foreign. softly stroked over his ass, testing the waters. then came down hard on him.

he whimpered and slumped back onto the couch. laying over his dominant friends lap. dizzy. before long he felt himself being eased off. the room was foggy. he felt touchy... lusty... this was another regular occurrence. steve bit down on his earlobe and placed a hand over roberts half hard bulge. drawing a sigh from rob. 'need another hit kitty?'

  'hmmnh no' he slurred. 'need you'. steve chuckled. 'seems someone might need you a bit more tonight' severin pushed a hand through roberts hair. grabbing it at the root and turning his head towards the doorway. there budgie stood. bewildered. 'someones been caught in a wee lovers tiff.. dont you think he needs something to take his mind off things mhm?'

robert couldnt fully process this. he was used to steven whoring him out on nights like these. he was used to giving head in rooms full of eager eyes. sometimes multiple times. he remembers one particularly sinful night where he was plied with champagne and this beautiful, earthy weed all day. he was sat down on the bed. severin had placed a tab of acid on his wet, waiting tongue. kissing down his neck and pulling off roberts shirt, stevens friends piled into the room. he cant quite remember when his trousers went missing but the cold air brought him back to reality. six men. six men had pulled his legs apart and made that delicious intrusion he loved so. his mind swirled through roaming hands. mouths. tongues. pushing and pulling. pounding. all those positions. relishing in the memory as it played back in his head. each one of them had finished inside him. by the time they were gone he was so spent and filled up all he could do was roll onto his front and pass out. blissfully sore. he reveled in each little reminder of that night that was left behind. the dripping. the bruises. the bites. the way his muscles ached the next morning from strain. the way that ache continued all day. but through his fucked out brain fog, one thought haunted him that night. from the back of his mind. none of them were nearly as big as simon.