Love Overcast // (ManxMan)

=Chapter 30=

A/N: Little bored Owen :D

[Owen]

Age 19, 5 years ago

"Congratulatory sexiness?" He says in a taunting voice, left arm encircling my hip while his right hand comes under my arm and settles against my neck. The long strands of hair tied up in a bun with stray blond-tipped hair framing his slight beard, just past the stubble stage.

I moan in agreement as I feel his nimble fingers running along the span of my naked behind, motions ranging from circular to caressing the area where I am still sore from them using me.

Sexual intercourse is meant to be special in my mind. As his long hair is let down and tickles the shell of my ear, I can almost hear them taunting me, "Yeah, squirm. Resistance turns me on." Saying the most vulgar things just before I give up trying to control my actions.

"You have the sexiest eyes, you know?" Lavender scents waft through the air as I draw my nose closer to my boyfriend's neck. I don't want to have sex, but if this means keeping me sane, then I will do it. For my boyfriend, I will do anything. "I love brown eyes."

There is a very faint line between my abusers and my first love. I hate that I cannot draw the difference clearly anymore, one moment I am taking the highway to the most sensual pleasure I have felt, caresses in all the right places. The next evening, I am being bound by a pair of hands, sickly sweet threats rolling off their tongues, tainted by intoxicated breath. A jarring motion of their hands against the one place I had silently promised my love to never reveal to anyone else.

"Don't stop until your nose touches my happy trail... That's right..." I remember the nails digging into the back of my head, assisting their intrusion into the same place I had kissed my love. The contact against my soft pallet always causes me to cough and gag in disgust, I never asked for this, why me? "Fuck, you're turning me on so much..."

A gasp escapes my mouth as I feel gentle hands set out to pleasure me to the ends of the earth, his finger tracing the faint dips on my abdominal, rising up to stimulate one of my many engorges zones that he is so very familiar with. "You feel well prepared down here... I love it when you are shy to ask for sex..." Not a single word is uttered in dishonesty, I know that he is dirty talking for my pleasure, he knows it makes me hot and bothered for his own arousal.

With one hand working jolts that travel the span of my chest, his other gently prods and massages the site of love making. Occasionally, he would push hard enough to break the ring of muscles so that I fall forward in his lap, pressing my chest against his. My love keeps whispering his words in my ear, all while making me hold onto the sheets and his strong biceps.

"Three? Let's try four..." The intrusive length from my throat is tugged out forcefully, eliciting a gag from my throat, coughs that are then muffled by a bruising hold against my mouth. I feel three fingers curling and pressing against the place that sends tremors through my body, a fourth joins them, making me gasp in hatred for myself. The feeling of pleasure is the least justified, I had to be sadistic towards myself to let them touch me like this, and I had to be masochistic at the same time to allow myself to respond to their rough motions.

My abusers don't fill even half as full as my lover does, both physically and metaphorically. As my lover adds one more finger to the existing index finger, I curl into him, placing apologetic kisses against his broad chest. I want to apologize for all the disgusting things I had subjected myself to in front of those people, each time I am used by them I want to return my apologies to my lover tenfold. How could I even think of betraying my lover like that? The one thing that had gotten me looking into the light since the passing of those who brought me up, now I am struggling to maintain myself within this romantic exchange.