Date: Thu, 10 Feb 2011 18:51:31 -0800
From: igotnothingforthis@gmail.com
Subject: Temptations of Youth

Opening the door to my fridge, I pushed my glasses back up and sighed when
I found the empty box of Grasshoppers, reminding myself to put them in my
office fridge next time. Apparently, Amy hadn't gone shopping before she'd
left, too concerned with making sure she had all the right swimsuits to
match the various pairs of sunglasses she had packed for her girls'
weekend.

She wouldn't have bought them for me anyway, she was always so concerned
about my health and anything that wasn't cardboard or tasteless was banned,
including Grasshoppers. I never understood how she managed to have so much
energy to keep up with everything, including our eating habits.

She deserved a weekend to herself, just her and her girlfriends, partying
and relaxing, escaping the stress of real life. Lord knows being married to
me was stressful enough, much less keeping our sixteen- year-old child
happy and healthy. Dealing with us on top of her full time job kept her on
her toes and it was nice to see her have a getaway.

Just as I was debating my eating options, the deep smell of pine mixed with
a hint of cinnamon flavored gum hit my nose and my heart nearly jumped
right out of my chest.  Clenching my fist on the door of the fridge, I
tried to ignore the way my body instantly reacted to the scent, my muscles
tensing in anticipation, my breathing hitching slightly.

"Can I have one of these?" he asked, his velvet voice washing over me as he
slid into the small space between me and the fridge, his ass rubbing
against my already hardening cock as he bent over to grab one of my
beers. Instinctively, my hands flew to his hips, just barely biting back a
moan when his sharp hip bones dug through his tight- oh so deliciously
fucking tight- jeans and into my palms. I gripped him tighter, wanting to
sear that feeling into my hands so I'd never lose it. My eyes fell shut as
my hips strained forward, silently cursing the material that separated my
body from his when all I wanted to do was feel him against me.

Standing straight, my arms fell limply to my sides, my stomach flipping
when he spun around and gave me his trademark crooked grin, his eyes full
of the playfulness I had missed.

Wiggling the can in front of me, he smiled coyly. "I promise I won't tell."

I knew how good he was at keeping secrets.

He knew I would never tell him no.

Besides, I'd done much worse things to him than giving him a can of beer,
but I chose not to think about it like that.

Almost dizzy from his sweet breath filling my lungs, I watched as he walked
around me and hopped up on the counter, popping the top and chugging down
the alcohol like it was water, the action making him appear much older than
sixteen. Making an exaggerated 'ah' sound, he sat the can next to him and
braced himself on his palms, his perfectly unruly brown hair falling into
his eyes as he tilted his head and looked me over, his gaze roaming over me
so hungrily it made my cock twitch.

"So, Mr. Dillon," he began, licking his lips as his jade eyes finally met
mine, the lust I saw there making my knees a little weak. "Where's
Mrs. Dillon?"

"She's gone for the weekend," I replied, trying to sound casual as I
finally closed the fridge door and leaned my back against it, the cold
metal sending shivers down my spine. I was sure he heard the tremble in my
voice though, and it had nothing to do with the temperature.

His eyes went wide with excitement, and my heart raced when I saw the
wicked glint that I simultaneously loved and hated appear as he thought of
the possibilities. I used to feel ashamed and dirty when my body reacted to
his, I used to have to struggle with morality issues every time he sucked
me off or sat on my cock, but that kind of thinking was useless, now my
mind chose to bypass his age and my marriage, instead I focused on the way
he made me feel.

Young, wanted, desired above all others.

Things I hadn't felt in years, and certainly had never felt with Amy. There
was no way she could ever want me, yearn for my body like he did. The spark
that he ignited in me never even flickered under her touch. It was
perfunctory at best, failing at worst. Not that she ever complained, she
never would of course, she loved me regardless. The way her eyes would
close when I failed to perform, the way her hands continued to caress me in
hopes of awakening the sleeping desire.

When I would finally stop her efforts, she would nod in understanding,
though I knew she would never truly understand. Gently she would lean
forward and kiss me before climbing out of the bed and heading for the
bathroom. As I lay there, a complete failure, I would hear the water run
and knew she had turned it on to disguise the sounds of the self pleasure
she was forced to perform on herself.

Crooking his finger at me seductively, I couldn't have fought against the
pull if I had wanted too, my legs immediately carrying me to stand between
his spread thighs. Just more proof that I was nothing more than his little
plaything and he was the puppet master. Lazily, he slung his arms over my
shoulders, glancing away from my face briefly to look at the watch on his
wrist.

"We've got an hour before Riley gets home," he hinted and I felt a small
twinge of pain in my chest at the mention of my son- and his best friend's-
name.

That was another thing I chose not to think about when I was alone with
Edward.

"You've been gone for a week and you stroll back in here thinking
everything is just okay?"

I hated that I sounded like a lovesick schoolgirl, whining about not being
the center of his universe, but I had been in a panic after the third day
of not hearing from him, and I couldn't even begin to describe what the
rest of the week had been like for me.

Pouting, he started twirling the waves at the nape of my neck around his
talented fingers. "I had to go to VBS and it was a little camp thing this
year."

"VBS?" I questioned, slightly breathless from his ministrations.

Smirking, he explained, "Vacation Bible School."

I couldn't even be surprised, knowing how adamant his parents were about
him attending church and such but I was still unhappy about it, and not
ready to quit sulking just yet.

Sometimes it was hard to remember who the adult was and who the child was.

Of course, he wasn't going to allow me to sulk for long.

"Come on, lover, don't be mad at me." He used the pet name I could never
resist. "I'm here to make it up to you. And it looks like I'll have the
whole weekend to do it."

I knew he meant the whole weekend when Riley was sleeping or out of the
house.

Pulling out all his tricks, he closed his legs around my waist and pulled
me close, moving his mouth next to my ear. His breath was hot and moist,
making my skin pebble with goose bumps as he whispered, "You know how good
I am at making things up to you."

Yes. I knew it all too well.

I felt the softest of kisses placed on my earlobe before his full lips were
dragging across my cheek, teasing my skin with light caresses. I couldn't
even hide the fact that I was already fucking panting. Stopping at the
corner of my mouth, I felt his smirk when I finally relented and turned my
head, catching his mouth mine.

The kiss wasn't slow or soft or even reacquainting but then again, our
kisses never were. They were rough and punishing, needy and messy, blissful
and perfect, my mouth mashing against his and our tongues swirling
furiously, teeth biting lips and hands pulling at each other's
hair. Wrapping my arms around his torso, I pulled him impossibly closer,
his lips swallowing my needy moan when he wiggled his hand between our
bodies to palm my erection through my jeans.

I skimmed my lips over his angular jaw, biting at it the way he liked, the
way that always made him moan and shift against me, like he did just
then. My lips reached a slightly raised area and I opened my eyes, pulling
away slightly.

"What the fuck?" I growled, glaring at the angry red imperfection on his
neck that I hadn't put there.

"Ugh, Bree," he said in explanation and rolled his eyes. "She wanted to
spend time together when I got home today. She didn't even make it good for
me." His lips pouted a bit at the end and I felt a little piece of my
already damaged heart wither away. Fingering the skin over his pulse point,
the spot right above her mark, he whispered, "Remind me how good it can
be?please."

I almost hated the way I was so ready to give him exactly what he wanted.

Almost.

I bruised him a little more than I normally did, making sure my mark was
brighter than hers, more permanent, sinking my teeth in a bit too much and
sucking a little harder only to soothe it with my tongue immediately
after. The way he moaned and arched into me only fueled my desire and I was
so sure he never acted that way when she touched him. Or at least, that's
what I told myself.

There might have been many years between us in age, but he and I were
living the same lie. We were both in something we didn't want to be for the
sake of those around us. He liked it when my wife was away and I liked it
when his girlfriend kept her hands to herself.

"Let's go upstairs," I breathed, noting that the clock hanging on the wall
said we only had forty-seven minutes left.

"No," he shook his head, his lips moving over my jaw. "Take me to your
office. I always feel so dirty when you fuck me on your desk." His entire
body writhed against me, like feeling dirty was a tangible thing and he
loved it. Pulling back slightly, he looked into my eyes with a seductive
grin. "You should leave the glasses on too. Makes me feel like I've been
sent to the principal's office for being naughty." Bringing one of his
hands up to his mouth, he used one finger to tap at his swollen bottom lip
and feigned an innocent look. "Please, Principal Dillon, don't paddle me."

My cock fucking throbbed at the thought of bending him over my desk,
turning his perfect, wonderfully pale ass pink with a paddle or, even
better, my hand. Each slap reminding him that no matter whom he fucked, he
would always be mine. Though, I knew it was the other way around.

With a nervous flutter in my stomach, the one that always appeared when I
was about to destroy another piece of my soul, I led him into my office and
closed the door behind us, my hands already working the button on his jeans
even as my head started spinning from lack of air. Our kissing never
ceased, his tongue swirling with mine seemed much more important than
oxygen. Chuckling against my mouth, he guided me behind my desk until the
back of my knees hit my chair.

Pulling his lips from mine, I felt his hot breath panting against my face
as he said, "I learned something new at camp. Wanna see?"

His eyes held excitement and I merely nodded, pushing away the irrational
jealousy I felt, knowing that whatever he was about to show me would push
me one step closer to the brink of insanity and I didn't need my emotions
making it any worse.

Pushing me down into my high back desk chair, I slouched down and licked my
lips when he stripped off his tee shirt, his slightly toned body sparking
feelings inside me that I had never noticed before he walked into my house
the first time - smiling and sucking on a lollipop so seductively it looked
like he had stepped right out of a porn video where the Catholic school
girls were always blowing a teacher for an 'A'. Once his shirt was thrown
on my floor, he dropped to his knees in front of me and began unbuckling my
pants; I lifted my hips to help him as he pulled down my jeans and boxers
to my thighs. My cock sprang free, slapping against my stomach and
twitching when he licked his lips and smiled a small, smug smile.

Bobbing on my cock a few times, I was already gripping the arms of my chair
tightly when he slid off with a pop and looked up at me. "Okay, ready?"

I nodded again.

Taking a deep breath, he engulfed my cock again, slowly sliding his lips
down toward the base. When I tapped the back of his throat, a loud groan
left my lips as he swallowed me past his gag reflex and into his tight
throat.

Someone had taught him how to deep throat.

Before, he had only been able to take me in a little more than halfway
before he'd gag and pull back. Not that I was complaining. There was
something so thrilling, so satisfying when he would choke on my cock and
moan around me when I'd grab his head to hold him there, show him that I
was in control regardless of what sort of power he thought he held over me.

In the end, though, we both knew that wasn't true.

However, his deep throating ended up being even better.

"Oh?fuck," I growled through gritted teeth, fighting the urge to thrust up
or grab his head. I felt my balls start tingle when he held me in there for
a few more seconds before pulling off and taking a shuddering breath.

"Was it good?" he asked, only a hint of insecurity in his breathless voice.

"Of course it was," I quickly assured him, combing my fingers through his
hair. "Gonna come if you do it again, though."

He smiled proudly and that diluted the pleasure I was in. I couldn't stop
myself from asking. "Where? where'd you learn that?"

"Brother Adrian," he shrugged, stroking my wet cock with both of his
perfect hands, one palming the head while the other rubbed my shaft.

I made a mental note to stop by Calvary Baptist Church the next time I was
on that side of town. I would politely tell Brother Adrian that if he even
thought of teaching Edward anything else, he would meet the maker he was
supposedly devoting his life to much sooner than he had anticipated. How
dare he take advantage of-

His tongue flicking over my leaking slit reminded me just how close his new
little trick had brought me to orgasm. My stomach clenched and an
involuntary whimper escaped me as I bit my lip, nudging at his shoulder
gently to get his attention.

"I'm going to come if you don't stop, baby," I warned. His eyes always lit
up when I called him that and I was sure it was because he'd noticed that
Amy was always just? Amy.

Standing up, he finished kicking off his clothes and reached into my desk
drawer, pulling out the lube and condom I kept there specifically for these
occasions before bending over in front of me, resting his elbows on my
paperwork and looking back at me with a smirk.

"Finger fuck me."

"We don't have a lot of time," I warned, looking at the clock on my
computer. We only had thirty-two minutes left.

He sighed heavily but nodded and I quickly removed my shirt, letting it
join the pile of clothes and morals on the floor before popping the top on
the lube and coating my fingers. I couldn't contain the heavy groan that
left me when I plunged a finger inside him, swiftly following it with two
then three fingers. His ass clamped around them repeatedly, fluttering as
it gave way to the intrusion of my hand, and I felt the emotions building
in the pit of my stomach, climbing higher and higher every time he pushed
back or moaned.

When I tried to fit my smallest finger into his already brutally stretched
hole, I told myself that I just wanted to make sure he was prepared and it
had nothing to do with wanting to punish him for his actions with Bree and
Adrian and anyone else he might have touched or kissed or fucked. I enjoyed
his pained whimper too much for that to be true though.

"Now," I breathed, sliding my fingers out of him. "Come on, baby, now." I
leaned back and gripped my cock, holding my breath as he braced his palms
on my thighs and slid down my engorged dick.

"Ugh," he grunted, his body willing took every inch of me. When his ass hit
my thighs, I exhaled loudly and reached around him to stroke his erection,
pleased to find he was just as hard as I was. Gritting my teeth, I growled
when he circled his hips, grinding down hard before he began riding me,
slowly and smoothly, teasing me with his lithe body and fluid motions.

Running my hand down his bare back, I traced the knots of his spine, trying
to control my breathing and emotions. I was desperate to swim in them
though, allow myself just a single moment to bask in his affection, his
touch. But I knew if I did that, if I let myself drown in him like I was
tempted to, I'd never come back to the surface for a breath of
reality. Gripping his slim hips tighter, I thrust up harshly, my balls
tightening further in response to the needy sounds he made. His sounds
would be the death of me, they had already vanquished any shred of decency
I had, now they were working on destroying the life I had so carefully
built.

I couldn't bring myself to care right then as he began bouncing on my cock,
grunting and gripping the edge of my desk so hard is knuckles were turning
white. The shrill ring of his cell phone brought me out of my pleasure
induced haze and my heart halted and then pounded harder before my brain
caught up, reminding me that as long as I was quiet, we wouldn't be caught.

With a small groan, he leaned forward and grabbed his phone off my desk,
answering with a breathless, "Hello?"

"Oh, hello, Brother Marcus," he answered cheerily, like he wasn't still
bouncing my cock and I wasn't biting my lip so hard to stop my moans that
it might've bled. "No sir, you just caught me at the gym, I'm on the
treadmill. Gotta keep in shape, you know?" He finished with a chuckle that
made his ass clamp down around me and I brought my fist up to my mouth,
sinking my teeth into my knuckles to muffle the growl that was rumbling in
my chest.

"Yes sir, I'll be there. This Sunday at two, right? I know, Brother Adrian
told me this past week while we were on the retreat. He always prefers when
I help him with the cleanup." The hand that was still on his waist clenched
tighter at the mention of his preacher's name. "Okay, Brother Marcus, see
you then."

He threw his phone back on my desk and started bouncing harder, covering my
hands with his own, trying to ease my grip to soften on his hips.

"You're the best of them all, you know."

I wanted to hate the pride that swelled in my chest, the hope and the? not
love, but something else I felt along with it. His words should've make me
sick, repulsed even, knowing how many people he's been with and I'm just
another notch on his belt but I just? couldn't.

Because he said I was the best and that's all I was going to focus on.

"Turn around," I told him. "Face me."

Immediately, he stood up and spun around, his hole twitching around me as
he sank back down onto my lap. Leaning forward, he lapped at my neck,
biting my jaw harshly as he grunted in my ear and I thrust harder, wanting
to force that sexy as fuck noise out of him again. It worked, just like it
always did, his body responding to me in ways I never knew possible before
the first time I had fucked him - bent over the railing of my bedroom
balcony with my wife and son sleeping inside, completely oblivious that I
had tarnished my soul and ruined my mind.

"I love it when you hit deep like that," he panted. "Makes me tingle all
over."

I knew that if he continued to talk that way I would never last, so I
shifted, moving him away until his back rested against my desk. His entire
body fucking rolled, grinding in a way that no sixteen-year-old should ever
know, much less perform it with such skill. My stomach muscles clenched
tightly as I shivered, my eyes falling shut as I fought back my orgasm once
again.

He never failed to bring me to orgasm quickly, much quicker than I -or my
wife- ever could. A tiny part of me lurched when that thought crossed my
mind, wondering what it was that he had done to me to make me so God damn?
useless. So hollow and empty with everyone else but him.

It was his fault I was the shell of the man I used to be. He was the reason
that I no longer had morals or any sense of right and wrong. It was his
voice I heard in my ears when I pushed my wife face down into the bed,
thrusting into her heat and wishing it was him. His fucking voice, always
encouraging me to just 'give in', give him what he wanted.

'Give up' is what he'd really meant. Give up everything I had worked for
and cherished and worshipped.

The only thing I worshipped anymore was him.

He was just so fucking good.

"Please, Mr. Dillon?"

I felt a bubbling of disgust in the pit of my stomach that counteracted the
way my desire spiked every time he said my name like that. That one remark
almost brought back those morality issues, almost reminding me that I was
just a sick fuck, like Adrian, that was taking advantage of a boy?

But then he clenched his inner muscles around my throbbing erection and the
hate I felt for myself disappeared and I didn't even mourn the loss of it.

With a growl, I wrapped my arm around his waist and stood, my pants pooling
around my ankles and my chair flying backwards with the quick
motions. Sliding his torso onto my desk, all of my work scattered to the
floor when I pushed him forward, resting his ass on the edge and
immediately thrusting into him hard.

"God, fuck," I grunted. Amazingly, he was much tighter that way, his
muscles sucking me in so deep that I was sure we were joined forever.

That would have been fine with me.

I gave him no recovery time, throwing his legs over my shoulders and
gripping his thighs so I could pound into him as hard as possible.

I was so fucking close.

"Yeah?give it to me."

To some, his words might have been ridiculous or cliché, but they forced me
to fight the urge to sink my teeth into his thigh and come. So filthy, the
way he whispered them and I felt the goose bumps on my skin even as sweat
rolled down my back. After all, it was his words that had started this in
the first place, cornering me in the bathroom to whisper dirty things in my
ear, how much he wanted to ride my cock and how good he was at it.

"This is wrong, Denver," I had said the day I decided to give up the
fight. "So fucking wrong. I'm married. You're sixteen."

Licking his way up my throat, he had chuckled, "Trust me, when I'm bouncing
on your cock, you won't be thinking about my age. Or your wife."

Maybe if I had known how right he had been? no, I wouldn't have stopped
even then.

And then he was coming, his ass tightening around me repeatedly as he
thrashed and writhed and fucking moaned like a whore, the sounds
contrasting with the look on his face. It was one of pleasure, of course,
but he was so God damn open when he came, the last shred of his innocence
that he still held shining through, his vulnerability scratching at the
surface, reminding me that this wasn't okay and he wasn't my partner or my
lover or my equal.

He was a boy.

And I was a married man.

But I was coming too so I couldn't be bothered with insignificant thoughts
like that.

With a roar, I slammed into him one last time, stilling my hips with my
cock deep inside him as I filled the condom with my pleasure, or my shame,
depending on how you looked at it. Each spurt that left me threatened to
destroy my carefully constructed wall that blocked out the beliefs I had
been raised with and the year that was on his birth certificate. I reined
it in though, walking that fine line between euphoria and insanity. When I
was spent, I collapsed on him, my forehead hitting his chest as I fucking
heaved and shuddered. Before I could stop myself, I had started lapping at
his smooth stomach, cleaning up his cooling come with my tongue and loving
the way it slid down my throat, my reminder that I was reason it was there
in the first place.

"So fucking hot," he murmured, tugging gently at my hair. "Dirty old man."

My lips stuttered on his skin but I quickly recovered and kissed his belly
button, refusing to let him see that, even though his voice had been
teasing, his statement would forever haunt me.

Because it was true.

I was a dirty old man. I was a pervert and a cheater and a liar. I was no
better than any of the others that had taken part in ruining his innocence.
Actually, I was worse because I knew that what we did was wrong and I
didn't care.

But when he pulled me up for a lingering kiss, I squashed those thoughts
like I always did.

They wouldn't change anything, anyway.