We were laying down naked on the bed, while the final light of the day slips in through the window. He was sweaty and tired; I was normal. It had been fun, but It was impossible that I would be worn out like him.
"You can shower off first," he said with a somber expression, "although you don't need," he whispered.
The same situation always happened when we made out. He goes go to the limit hoping that, I would end up tired or said that was the best sex of my life or something similar. I don't understand him, I guess he wanted a way to show his manliness. It's a stupid idea of millennials, sex shouldn't be a demonstration of anything and I'm not an object.
When I left the bathroom, he was reclining on the bed with a victorious pose. He is so stupid; fortunately, he is very hot. He got into the bath, and I dressed. The motel was cheap, but it was in a good place for nobody saw me. I'd rather not give an explanation to my aunt and uncle. Perhaps it was the moment to stop the relationship. Too much risk to see an asshole who doesn't respect me.
Mike got out of the bath, and he came straight to kiss me.
"Your eyes are so fire, I'm loving that caramel color." He said with a handsome smile. At this moment, I thought that some date without any obligation wouldn't hurt anyone.
When we were ready, I opened the door and saw the men in black. He was waiting for me, leaning on his rental Prius with his typical sunglasses. It was April in the afternoon he didn't need the glasses.
"You want me to give you a ride?" Mark asked me while he was checking hir messages.
"Don't worry, a friend has come to pick me up, " I pointed to Andrew.
He checks out Andrew for a sec. Then he took my head and french-kissed me while he stared at my social services worker. I shoved him with more care than he deserved.
"Oww, my arm dude," he said.
"Fuck you! I go."
"I love when you played hard to get. I will send you a DM for Instagram later," he said with a smug tone.
I carried on without glancing at him. In the car, Andrew followed me with his head, judging me.
"Hey, doesn't the government give you a phone? You could try phoning me like a regular person instead of stalking me."
"This man is older than you," my distraction hadn't worked "you have a problem, kid."
I got into the car and closed the door with strength. He also got inside and started the car.
"Who I hook up with is not your business."
"My business is that you're safe and sound. And hidden dates in sordid motels with strangers aren't safe. Who old is he?"
"Yes, super-dangerous. Perhaps he could stab me or shoot me," I said sarcastically.
"First, your powers don't make you immortal. Second, there are other ways of making hurt that isn't physical. Third, I want to know who that man is and how old he is, now!" he said seriously.
I guess that jumping out of the car had been the best; however, he had closed the doors. I have used this trick too many times. Technically, it was just two, but I guess that's too many for this type of thing.
"He is Mark and lives in Vancouver, Canadian. He works in Portland. The weekend goes home; usually, we meet up some Sundays when he goes to Portland."
"Dylan, you know, isn't it?" I hated when he made this. I fucking know, I'm not stupid.
"Yes, they have an open relationship."
"Do you really believe that?" I didn't respond. "How old is he?" I was able to think of some distractions.
"He was twenty-five," I shouldn't have answered, what was the worse that he could have done. However, Andrew's a hard guy to dodge; he knows how to manipulate me like a Jedi.
"Dylan, shit, you are sixteen years old. The last girl was nineteen and it was too much, but this man almost could be your ..." he didn't complete the sentence. "Dylan..."
"Dylan, what. We didn't make anything wrong it's only consensual sex," I said angrily.
"You can't have consensual sex with someone so old," he yelled at me.
"In this state is legal. Besides, turning seventeen in a few weeks,"
"This is not the point" he parked on the hard shoulder and pick up his phone resolutely. I couldn't see what he was doing, but I was freaking out in my head.
"Please, he doesn't know it. It's all my fault," he took down the phone, " I told him that I'm nineteen years old. I'm 1.70 meters tall, weigh 75 kilos, and started shaving at thirteen. I look twenty years old. I know I'm pathetic," I said turning my face.
"You aren't pathetic. You mess up sometimes, same as everybody else." he sighed.
He put the phone in the glove box and restarted the car. This had been a disaster; at least I avoided a group of agents appearing in Mark's house or something. But, I had a new lie on the counter. It's true that Mark doesn't know my real age; he never asks.
YOU ARE READING
Dylan
Teen Fiction"Do you know this feeling of whatever you do, you're going to fuck it? For me, it's not a feeling it's my day-to-day. Hooking up with someone older, yelling at my social worker, or kissing a girl for whom I feel nothing is only a small part of my pr...
