vamphile (![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} vamphile) wrote in ![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} qaf_drabbles,@ 2007-12-03 23:04:00 |
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Challenge #41: Justin's Hoody
this was beta'd by the brilliant and Lovely_alicesprings
It is continued from Hustler!Justin and you really do need to read those drabbles first.
May I now present
Title: Hustler!Justin II
Author: Vamphile
Condom(s): One to Justin
Hustler!Justin
Hustler!Justin II
Hustler!Justin III
Hustler!Justin IV
Fuck, I’m crying. I turn my head away from him but he won’t let me. He leans forward instead. Kissing my eyelids gently, all the while he’s inside me, filling me and barely moving. My fingers dig into his biceps and I wait. He’s being patient now but I know from experience that his patience will stop and then he’ll take what he wants. His mouth is on mine now, he’s nibbling at my lower lip and he’s still barely moving inside me. I feel his weight shift and I grip his arms hard, bracing myself. He pulls out completely.
17
I pull off of him completely. I can’t do this, not when every time I move he seems to be waiting for it to hurt. He’s looking at me, confused and I have to admit, I’m confused too. I lie on my back, light a cigarette and offer him one. He shakes his head and then shifts his weight until his fingers are wrapped around my cock, his head lowers and I stop him. Again with the confused look, from both of us. He sighs. “What do you want?” I move to touch him and he tenses. “Ride me.”
18
“Huh?”
He rolls his lip into his mouth and puts his hands behind his head. “Put me inside you.”
I straddle him and his hands don’t move. I don’t stop watching, I can’t help it. Even while I’m holding his cock upright and guiding it into me, lowering myself onto him, I can’t take my eyes off of his arms. They’re strong. If they wanted to, they could do some serious damage. He moves his hand and I start to move. I don’t want him to get angry. He’s already being more patient than I have a right to expect.
19
I want to reach out and touch him. His warm soft skin, his leaking cock, but I move my hand the slightest bit and he’s suddenly working in overtime. He’s afraid. I thought letting him ride me, giving him the control would help but he’s right. I could hurt him. He’s smart to be this careful in his line of work. I want to tell him I’m kind of proud of him, but I’m not a lesbian, and I don’t even know him. I bend my knees watching as he leans back against my thighs. I don’t move my hands.
20
He’s watching me, he doesn’t look angry. I twist my hips as I lean against his thighs and grunt a little as the head of his cock prods my prostate. I do it again and he smiles, pressing his hips up. I don’t understand. Does he think he’s hurting me? He seems to be enjoying watching me like this and it doesn’t make any sense. I’m moving faster, hoping to finish before he figures it out. I slam down onto him. He pushes up. I grip his knees, careful not to touch my cock. I can’t help it. I come.
21
He looks scared again. He’s climbing off me, and as he opens his mouth I can tell he’s about to apologize and bolt. I take his hand in both of mine. “C’mere.”
He’s as far away from me as he can be while we’re still touching. His expression goes blank and he walks towards me. I drop his hand, hoping he won’t bolt. He doesn’t. He puts his hands behind his back and closes his eyes. His body is tensed and that same sickening feeling overwhelms me. He’s waiting for me to punish him. I sit him on the bed.
22
He’s asking me questions I don’t understand. He’s angry. I can hear it. I can see his muscles almost vibrating with it. I don’t move away, that’ll probably make it worse. He’s staring at me, waiting… for an answer, I think. I don’t even remember the question. He sighs and sits next to me. “Do you have someone … a pimp?”
Okay, that one I know. I shake my head. “Then what…”
I don’t know what he’s trying to ask. I shrug.
“Who hurt you?” he almost whispers it.
I shrug again.
He pinches the bridge of his nose. Fuck.
23
Okay, he doesn’t have a pimp and he doesn’t know who hurt him. All he seems to know is that his pleasure leads to punishment. The thought of handing him his clothes and sending him on his way is tempting…until I actually picture the door closing behind him, and remember how cold it is tonight.
I start slowly. “I’m not gonna hurt you. I don’t want you to hurt.”
His eyes are closed and one tear escapes. I swear I need to find out what kind of sadistic bastard would prefer seeing a kid in pain to giving him pleasure?
24
The weird thing is I think I believe him. He’s kissing my back, slowly. He’s whispering soft words, reminding me how good it felt when his tongue was in my ass, telling me how much he liked making me feel that way. I’m having a little trouble wrapping my brain around that one. I mean, I get that he’d rather concentrate on his pleasure than my pain but…
His arm is across my chest, pushing me backwards. I don’t dare resist but when he kisses the side of my mouth, telling me to relax I don’t know how to comply.
25
He’s… compliant. That’s really the only word I can think of. He’s not fighting me, but he’s not participating either. I run through our activities throughout the night and realize that except for requiring a condom, and setting a price, he’s let me lead him everywhere. It would be great if I could break him of that habit in an evening but it seems pretty ingrained. Must serve him well in his line of work. Do what they want, put up with almost anything. Get paid. Get out.
I lick his nipple and his body responds involuntarily. It’s a start.
26
His hands are strong and warm but they’re not pinching or squeezing. They’re not even just grasping and grabbing the way a lot of tricks do. He’s whispering against my ear, telling me that he likes it when I smile. He likes how dark my eyes get before I come. He loves the sounds I make when I’m turned on. I’ve never met anyone like him. A lot of guys say they want to get me off, but it’s like a contest, the faster the better. His words and actions match. He seems perfectly content to just keep touching me.
27
He’s relaxing into my touch. His legs are still dangling off the bed. I know he’ll move if I ask, but I want him to take the initiative. His hand reaches for mine. Our fingers intertwine and I lean in to kiss him. He lifts his head to kiss me back and that shouldn’t be such a major step, but I know it is. He lets his head fall back. My mouth follows his. His other hand is moving between us. I groan as he wraps his fingers around my cock. I pull his hand away. “This is for you.”
28
“You paid me to make you feel good.” I remind him.
“Justin.” Christ, the way he says my name. “Just for tonight, let someone take care of you.”
I. Will. Not. Cry. I have gotten through far worse than a guy who wants to slowly turn me on. I can do this. I think about the warmth the money will provide. I think about the fact that I can get some food and just as I do my stomach grumbles. I blush. I know I do. He laughs.
“I guess part of taking care of you includes providing food, huh?”
29
He covers his face, but he’s nodding and his stomach is still growling. "Chinese, pizza… you have a preference?”
He shakes his head, of course not. I go with pizza and get myself a beer. I offer him one but he shakes his head again. “I have juice, or water.”
He shrugs. I sigh. This, ”anything you say, sir” thing can get tired. I hand him a bottle of water and sit next to him on the bed. “So, how old are you.”
He shrugs again and I turn his head 'til our eyes meet. “How. Old. Are. You?”
“Seventeen”
30
He looks surprised. They all do. I think they think I’m lying. I’m not. He stares at me, his eyes narrowed. “What year were you born?”
I tell him and he nods. “You could have memorized that.”
He’s right. “I just look young. It’s actually kind of good for business.”
He frowns.
“Look, think of it this way, whatever they’re doing to me they’re not doing to some poor innocent kid.”
The frown is now a scowl. I shrink away from him but he strokes my arm. “You are an innocent kid.”
I can’t help it. I laugh. He doesn’t.
31
“Brian. I’m a hustler. It’s the definition of demeritourious.”
He lifts and eyebrow and I shrug. “I read a lot.”
The buzzer goes off and he walks away holding up a finger letting me know we’re not done with this conversation.
But I couldn’t continue if I wanted to. My stomach is growling too loudly. He puts the pizza on the kitchen counter. I shiver a little. He hands me a pair of sweat pants and one of his shirts. It’s big on me but it’s cleaner than my hoody.
I shove an entire slice of pizza in my mouth.
32
The kid has no gag reflex. I’m not surprised. The anger I felt when he said that bullshit about innocent kids, that surprised me. He’s what, hustling for the greater good. A kid who can use the word demeritourious correctly in a sentence is peddling his ass to sadistic pedophiles and he sees some sort of bright side to the whole thing.
Why the fuck didn’t I just go to Babylon and get my dick sucked?
He smiles as he starts on his third slice and I remember why I stopped when I saw him. Besides, he’ll be gone tomorrow.
Cont...
this was beta'd by the brilliant and Lovely
_alicespringsIt is continued from Hustler!Justin and you really do need to read those drabbles first.
May I now present
Title: Hustler!Justin II
Author: Vamphile
Condom(s): One to Justin
Hustler!Justin
Hustler!Justin II
Hustler!Justin III
Hustler!Justin IV
Hustler Justin II
Fuck, I’m crying. I turn my head away from him but he won’t let me. He leans forward instead. Kissing my eyelids gently, all the while he’s inside me, filling me and barely moving. My fingers dig into his biceps and I wait. He’s being patient now but I know from experience that his patience will stop and then he’ll take what he wants. His mouth is on mine now, he’s nibbling at my lower lip and he’s still barely moving inside me. I feel his weight shift and I grip his arms hard, bracing myself. He pulls out completely.
17
I pull off of him completely. I can’t do this, not when every time I move he seems to be waiting for it to hurt. He’s looking at me, confused and I have to admit, I’m confused too. I lie on my back, light a cigarette and offer him one. He shakes his head and then shifts his weight until his fingers are wrapped around my cock, his head lowers and I stop him. Again with the confused look, from both of us. He sighs. “What do you want?” I move to touch him and he tenses. “Ride me.”
18
“Huh?”
He rolls his lip into his mouth and puts his hands behind his head. “Put me inside you.”
I straddle him and his hands don’t move. I don’t stop watching, I can’t help it. Even while I’m holding his cock upright and guiding it into me, lowering myself onto him, I can’t take my eyes off of his arms. They’re strong. If they wanted to, they could do some serious damage. He moves his hand and I start to move. I don’t want him to get angry. He’s already being more patient than I have a right to expect.
19
I want to reach out and touch him. His warm soft skin, his leaking cock, but I move my hand the slightest bit and he’s suddenly working in overtime. He’s afraid. I thought letting him ride me, giving him the control would help but he’s right. I could hurt him. He’s smart to be this careful in his line of work. I want to tell him I’m kind of proud of him, but I’m not a lesbian, and I don’t even know him. I bend my knees watching as he leans back against my thighs. I don’t move my hands.
20
He’s watching me, he doesn’t look angry. I twist my hips as I lean against his thighs and grunt a little as the head of his cock prods my prostate. I do it again and he smiles, pressing his hips up. I don’t understand. Does he think he’s hurting me? He seems to be enjoying watching me like this and it doesn’t make any sense. I’m moving faster, hoping to finish before he figures it out. I slam down onto him. He pushes up. I grip his knees, careful not to touch my cock. I can’t help it. I come.
21
He looks scared again. He’s climbing off me, and as he opens his mouth I can tell he’s about to apologize and bolt. I take his hand in both of mine. “C’mere.”
He’s as far away from me as he can be while we’re still touching. His expression goes blank and he walks towards me. I drop his hand, hoping he won’t bolt. He doesn’t. He puts his hands behind his back and closes his eyes. His body is tensed and that same sickening feeling overwhelms me. He’s waiting for me to punish him. I sit him on the bed.
22
He’s asking me questions I don’t understand. He’s angry. I can hear it. I can see his muscles almost vibrating with it. I don’t move away, that’ll probably make it worse. He’s staring at me, waiting… for an answer, I think. I don’t even remember the question. He sighs and sits next to me. “Do you have someone … a pimp?”
Okay, that one I know. I shake my head. “Then what…”
I don’t know what he’s trying to ask. I shrug.
“Who hurt you?” he almost whispers it.
I shrug again.
He pinches the bridge of his nose. Fuck.
23
Okay, he doesn’t have a pimp and he doesn’t know who hurt him. All he seems to know is that his pleasure leads to punishment. The thought of handing him his clothes and sending him on his way is tempting…until I actually picture the door closing behind him, and remember how cold it is tonight.
I start slowly. “I’m not gonna hurt you. I don’t want you to hurt.”
His eyes are closed and one tear escapes. I swear I need to find out what kind of sadistic bastard would prefer seeing a kid in pain to giving him pleasure?
24
The weird thing is I think I believe him. He’s kissing my back, slowly. He’s whispering soft words, reminding me how good it felt when his tongue was in my ass, telling me how much he liked making me feel that way. I’m having a little trouble wrapping my brain around that one. I mean, I get that he’d rather concentrate on his pleasure than my pain but…
His arm is across my chest, pushing me backwards. I don’t dare resist but when he kisses the side of my mouth, telling me to relax I don’t know how to comply.
25
He’s… compliant. That’s really the only word I can think of. He’s not fighting me, but he’s not participating either. I run through our activities throughout the night and realize that except for requiring a condom, and setting a price, he’s let me lead him everywhere. It would be great if I could break him of that habit in an evening but it seems pretty ingrained. Must serve him well in his line of work. Do what they want, put up with almost anything. Get paid. Get out.
I lick his nipple and his body responds involuntarily. It’s a start.
26
His hands are strong and warm but they’re not pinching or squeezing. They’re not even just grasping and grabbing the way a lot of tricks do. He’s whispering against my ear, telling me that he likes it when I smile. He likes how dark my eyes get before I come. He loves the sounds I make when I’m turned on. I’ve never met anyone like him. A lot of guys say they want to get me off, but it’s like a contest, the faster the better. His words and actions match. He seems perfectly content to just keep touching me.
27
He’s relaxing into my touch. His legs are still dangling off the bed. I know he’ll move if I ask, but I want him to take the initiative. His hand reaches for mine. Our fingers intertwine and I lean in to kiss him. He lifts his head to kiss me back and that shouldn’t be such a major step, but I know it is. He lets his head fall back. My mouth follows his. His other hand is moving between us. I groan as he wraps his fingers around my cock. I pull his hand away. “This is for you.”
28
“You paid me to make you feel good.” I remind him.
“Justin.” Christ, the way he says my name. “Just for tonight, let someone take care of you.”
I. Will. Not. Cry. I have gotten through far worse than a guy who wants to slowly turn me on. I can do this. I think about the warmth the money will provide. I think about the fact that I can get some food and just as I do my stomach grumbles. I blush. I know I do. He laughs.
“I guess part of taking care of you includes providing food, huh?”
29
He covers his face, but he’s nodding and his stomach is still growling. "Chinese, pizza… you have a preference?”
He shakes his head, of course not. I go with pizza and get myself a beer. I offer him one but he shakes his head again. “I have juice, or water.”
He shrugs. I sigh. This, ”anything you say, sir” thing can get tired. I hand him a bottle of water and sit next to him on the bed. “So, how old are you.”
He shrugs again and I turn his head 'til our eyes meet. “How. Old. Are. You?”
“Seventeen”
30
He looks surprised. They all do. I think they think I’m lying. I’m not. He stares at me, his eyes narrowed. “What year were you born?”
I tell him and he nods. “You could have memorized that.”
He’s right. “I just look young. It’s actually kind of good for business.”
He frowns.
“Look, think of it this way, whatever they’re doing to me they’re not doing to some poor innocent kid.”
The frown is now a scowl. I shrink away from him but he strokes my arm. “You are an innocent kid.”
I can’t help it. I laugh. He doesn’t.
31
“Brian. I’m a hustler. It’s the definition of demeritourious.”
He lifts and eyebrow and I shrug. “I read a lot.”
The buzzer goes off and he walks away holding up a finger letting me know we’re not done with this conversation.
But I couldn’t continue if I wanted to. My stomach is growling too loudly. He puts the pizza on the kitchen counter. I shiver a little. He hands me a pair of sweat pants and one of his shirts. It’s big on me but it’s cleaner than my hoody.
I shove an entire slice of pizza in my mouth.
32
The kid has no gag reflex. I’m not surprised. The anger I felt when he said that bullshit about innocent kids, that surprised me. He’s what, hustling for the greater good. A kid who can use the word demeritourious correctly in a sentence is peddling his ass to sadistic pedophiles and he sees some sort of bright side to the whole thing.
Why the fuck didn’t I just go to Babylon and get my dick sucked?
He smiles as he starts on his third slice and I remember why I stopped when I saw him. Besides, he’ll be gone tomorrow.
Cont...