Date: Wed, 11 Jul 2007 22:29:21 +0000
From: Kevin Berry <kgberrywriting@hotmail.co.uk>
Subject: Charlie's Secret Heartache pt10

This is a Lost fan-fiction story. The rights to these characters belong to
and are copyright protected by J.J. Abrams and Damon Lindelof and I am
using them without permission. Please send feedback to
kgberrywriting@hotmail.co.uk , it would be very much appreciated!

Now, please sit back and enjoy...

Charlie's Secret Heartache pt10

Charlie awoke to bright sunlight bursting into his tent. Sawyer burst in
with it, closing the tarp behind him. He crouched down next to Charlie's
bed, and said in a low voice, "Well hey there, Sweet Cheeks."

"What do you want, Sawyer?" Charlie replied sleepily. He sat up in his bed,
and the grey blanket he slept under slid down over his thighs, revealing a
stiff morning erection pointing straight up in his soft white boxers with
their grey waist-band.

"The question is," Sawyer grinned as he looked down at Charlie's prick, his
round and smooth head filling out the boxer shorts. "What does Woody here
want? Payment. For your.... errand," he said, the last word having special,
implicit meaning - implying the time a few days previously when he had
pretend-kidnapped Sun and led Sawyer to the guns. It took a while for
Charlie to get the reference: it felt like so long ago, so much had
happened... was Sawyer desperate? Was that the best he could do?

"No thanks," Charlie replied. He remembered the hot, burning shame he felt
after he sucked Sawyer's cock. And while he'd willingly suck it again, he
never wanted to feel the shame of submitting to Sawyer and cheating on Jack
again. Not for anything, not after making up again, and especially not just
for Sawyer's satisfaction.

"No thanks!? What am I supposed to do with this?" Sawyer replied, outraged.
He smoothly unbuttoned his black jeans and lowered the fly, revealing his
own pride fleshing out dark blue boxers with a white waist-line. He ran his
fingers across the ten-inch mass, across and round its tip and back.

"He does look good," Charlie thought to himself as the mental fog of waking
up cleared from his head. He watched Sawyer toy with his cock through his
boxers, admired his muscles, rippled and strong on his stomach, chest
bursting through his open green shirt. Good? He looked bloody amazing! But
he couldn't. He loved Jack, and had to be true to him. But the situation was
all made rather more difficult by the fact that no-one, especially Sawyer,
could know of their secret relationship. All this mental processing, of
course, happened in a flash.

"Go and whack off somewhere, I don't care," Charlie retorted. He turned back
over in bed and made to go back to sleep.

"You sure about that, Charming?" He dropped his shirt down his arms and onto
the floor, showing off his mean biceps. He threw away the blanket to reveal
Charlie's whole, near-naked body. Then he kneeled over him, straddled over
his legs, hands on Charlie's biceps, turning his body in his strong grip.
His sexy, fit torso glistened in front of Charlie's eyes, and his morning
wood stiffened a little more. He locked eye contact with Sawyer, defying him
while staring into his cold, brown eyes. Sawyer grew angry. He was
frustrated. "You really sure?" Sawyer repeated his offer.

"Yes," Charlie firmly answered. "Now piss off."

Sawyer pushed Charlie down into the bed, hard. Captive, Charlie struggled
under his strong grip, trying to sit back up to assert himself, helplessly
aroused.  "What the hell is wrong with you!?" Sawyer's tone was angry, but
not loud - he could not shout for fear of being overheard.

"Get off me - " Charlie hissed up at the rough, bad Sawyer who thought he
could just take whatever he wanted, who thought he could walk right over
him. He would die before he betrayed Jack. But part of him, the part that
resonated with Sawyer, wanted that bad boy, the lust, the raw love. It
wanted to submit.

"Lay back and shut up!" He commanded. He needed Charlie's body, and he was
going to get it. He began to hump Charlie's body, their stiff cocks rubbing
through the material.

"No!" Charlie fought back the desire for his second secret heartache.
Semi-naked, their bodies struggled and their cocks fought as Sawyer humped
and Charlie struggled.

As Sawyer's hands increased their grip on Charlie, he shifted his legs so
that the hair and the warm skin rubbed, and he moved his feet so they
stroked Charlie's. His long, stiff manhood wrestled and molested Charlie's
through the soft cotton. Charlie felt the strong flesh rub against the
sensitive area of his own, moist and warm from his own precum.

"Sawyer don't!" Charlie moaned softly; he felt his resistance waning.
"Don't..."

A hand slipped inside the unbuttoned boxers. It felt good over his crotch.
Charlie stopped squirming, blinked slowly, and his expression softened. He
relaxed his tense body as Sawyer loosened his tight grip on his arm.

"That's the way," Sawyer said, his bad face still stern. His voice had a
rough, gravel-edged croon to it. He peeled back Charlie's boxers and stroked
his moist shaft, tugged on the loose balls, freeing them from the boxers'
confines. "Take 'em off," Sawyer commanded. Charlie stripped away his
underwear as Sawyer took off his shoes, socks, jeans and briefs. His
glorious nude body, his firm ass cheeks and perfect torso, his long, smooth
cock and gobstopper balls; Sawyer radiated sexuality into the tent.

"Turn over," Sawyer commanded.

"I- I'm not sure I want to," he said, pathetically.

"Turn over," Sawyer repeated. His tone was like a lead weight, heavy, hard
and cold.

Charlie obeyed, bearing his ass at Sawyer. "You won't forget the time you
tried to deny me," Sawyer told Charlie. He was right, he never did.

He spat on his fingers and inserted three of them into Charlie's waiting
red, hairless back hole. Sawyer was surprised how easily it gave way, and
became all the more horny at the fact that Charlie had obviously enjoyed the
cocks of other men in his sweet hole. He loved the sight of Charlie's ass,
round and sexy, the feel of the flesh in his grip, the body at his mercy.
It's all about control.

Charlie couldn't help but submit to Sawyer. He knew it would be useless to
fight, as Sawyer was bigger and stronger than him. He knew it was wrong; he
needed, wanted with all his heart, to be faithful to Jack, but in sucking
Sawyer's dick, Charlie had crossed a line. He had made himself Sawyer's
bitch, and there was no going back. There was more than one monster on this
island.

Charlie gave a gasp as Sawyer's hand entered, exited and re-entered his ass
hole with great force. Sawyer was rough and strong, and was using him as he
wanted. He felt his passage way give in as Sawyer prepared the way for his
big, stiff dick to go in. Charlie already knew from when he had sucked it
that time in the jungle, it was bigger than Jack's. He knew he would feel
it. Pain. He braced himself.

"Don't forget, Bitch, I always get what I want," Sawyer spat. He rubbed his
saliva over Charlie's hole, and pushed his cock in. Half the shaft burst
into his body in the first stroke, so different from Jack's gentle loving,
Sawyer's love was angry and coarse.

Charlie moaned in pain as the head penetrated his ass. A tear leaked down
his face at the burning, bludgeoning pain in his rectum.  But even as the
pain coursed through him, he longed for the pleasure that he knew would come
when his sweet spot was hit by Sawyer's probing cockhead, and knew he just
had to cope with the pain that would be inside him until that point. Soon it
would be over. Then Charlie felt Sawyer's sword pull back in him, leaving
the empty space behind, curious as always. And then he pushed his manhood in
all the way. Pain seared Charlie once again, sure that this time he was
bound to be split in two, he let out another cry as pubic hair brushed right
up against the smooth ass skin. Tears trickled in the wet path left by the
last stroke, lost into his beard hair.

"It's too big!" Charlie groaned as Sawyer's cock filled his insides. It felt
large and invasive inside him, and it made him think of Jack: Sawyer was
taking the space in his body reserved for Jack. Yet it hit against that
special place deep inside, giving the man-on-man pleasure that he had
yearned for, and Sawyer gave it so well that Charlie had to take it. He
couldn't stop now. The hard, huge manhood was enormous inside him, and it
made him wince with the pain and sear with guilt as well as moan with
pleasure.

"You're gonna take it all," Sawyer told Charlie, through sharp breaths and
stifled grunts. He was doing it all with the air of one hosting a grand
feast, or exhibiting his newest flash sports car: smug, self-satisfied and
high on his own success. "And you're gonna like it." His pace quickened. His
stroked shortened. Sawyer pounded fast into the ass hole, grunting
animal-like alongside the bitch's throaty moans. He fucked, and fucked,
riding his bitch fast and wild.

As Sawyer invaded and used his ass for his own, Charlie tugged at the
foreskin of his stiff cock, pulling the foreskin over the head, pleasuring
and pleasing it in spite of himself. He fiercely wanked as Sawyer fucked and
fucked and fucked him, abused and used him like a horse or a rhino mounted
on his back.

Sawyer stifled a humongous groan. The thrusts stopped. The monster lay back
for a moment: the deep breath before the plunge. His hands gripped the flesh
at Charlie's waste harder than ever, digging in. Slimy warm lust-fluid burst
into Charlie as the floodgates in Sawyer's prick let out torrents of cum,
filling his anal passage; grunts and moans stopped short before escaping
Sawyer's tight-shut mouth; sheer, pure energy wracked Sawyer's body; the
giant cock slid in and out of the slippy tight confines. When he pulled out,
cum leaked down the crack. Charlie felt the liquid cover his ass, seeping
out of his sore hole, and then get licked back up again as Sawyer's tongue
lapped around his body, stuck into his hole, recovering what was his. He
adored the feeling of Sawyer's tongue up against his boy-pussy, but wished
it was Jack's tongue, and Jack's cum, and Jack who had made love him.

When Sawyer's head pulled away, Charlie flumped down and rolled over,
masturbating himself and waiting for him to finish what he had started. But
Sawyer was slipping his boxers back on, and he dressed as Charlie watched in
disbelief.

"Hey, what about me?" Charlie said, stroking his balls. "What am I going to
do with this?"

"Go whack off somewhere," Sawyer answered back, angrily pulling on his
shirt. "I don't care." He left the tent, leaving Charlie deflated and
annoyed as he jerked his foreskin back and forth. Suddenly, his cum rose in
his dick, splattering across his chest and stomach in copious loads. It was
the most unfulfilling orgasm ever.

As he cleared up, he tried to convince himself it wasn't his fault. Sawyer
had seduced him, had determined to fuck him and would have found a way of
getting him, maybe even raped him, if he had resisted any more. Surely Jack
could forgive him? He had to go and see him. Surely, he would understand
everything, and they could go on as if it had never happened. Then he
realised and his heart stopped still. Jack must never know. It would be his
own burden to bear. His secret heartache.