by
Mark 'Ponyboy' Peters
Chapter Four
After leaving the motel room I sat in my car for some time, trembling and fighting back tears. I don't know if that was from the cold or a reaction to what had just happened. Either way, I wasn't in a particularly good way. I was hurting in more ways than I could have imagined, and I don't think I was overreacting.
Eventually the shakes began to give way, at least enough to allow me to insert the key into the ignition and turn it. The car started easily, and I pulled the seat belt over my shoulder, then headed out onto the road.
At first I wasn't sure where I was going to go. I didn't want to go straight home, just in case my parents were still up, so I turned in the opposite direction to home and started along the main drag, hoping like hell that I didn't get pulled over by the cops and be asked to breathe into a bag, as that would have been my driver's licence gone on the spot.
After a few blocks, thankfully without having seen a single police car, I came to an all-night petrol station that had a diner attached. Suddenly the thought of coffee, hot and strong, came to mind, so I turned off the road and found a parking space, then shut down the engine.
I sat there for a few moments just thinking about the night so far. Why the fuck had I let it get to that point? Why didn't I resist? Of course, the answer to that was the beers we had all consumed. I wasn't drunk, but I was pretty buzzed and that definitely had to have been a contributing factor.
On opening the car door I was again hit by the cold night air, so I hurriedly exited the car and made my way inside, by body protesting with every step as I hobbled along. The attendant at the counter, an older guy, gave me an odd look as I came inside.
'You okay, man?'
'Yeah, thanks. Hurt my . . . back, that's all,' I replied. He gave me a nod and I headed for the nearest table, taking great care when I sat down on the hard plastic chair.
I picked up the menu on the table and glanced at it then moments later a girl, who I was certain had attended my school a couple of years ahead of me, came over with a notepad in hand.
'Hey, Grayson. Long time no see,' she said.
'Hi,' I replied, but for the life of me I couldn't think of her name. Was it Belinda? Beth? Bree? Pretty sure it started with a B. I glanced at her name badge, which read Bianca. Okay, I was close.
'What can I get you?'
'Just a large cappuccino and some chips with gravy please, Bianca.'
'Sure thing. You look like you've had quite a night. Are you okay?'
'That obvious, huh?' I said, shifting uneasily in the chair.
'Some coffee will help sober you up,' she offered, adding a smile and a wink. If that was a come on, she was going to sadly disappointed.
'I hope so. Would you happen to have any Aspirin?'
'Sure, sweetie.'
I watched her as she walked away, wondering how she had even remembered my name. I wouldn't have thought I was the kind of guy to make a lasting impression on anyone. If anything I tried to be the exact opposite, preferring instead to play the wallflower.
A few minutes later she returned with my coffee and three Aspirin wrapped in foil. 'This should help take the edge off, honey. Your chips won't be too far away.'
'Thank you so much.'
I added some sugar to my coffee and gave it a stir, then tore the foil pack open. I popped the pills into my mouth then took a sip of coffee, then another, then swallowed. I was hoping she was right and the Aspirin would indeed take the edge off, as I was aching all over. At least in the warmth of the diner I had stopped trembling.
My food came out not long after that and for the next fifteen minutes or so I sat there eating chips, drinking coffee, and starting to feel a little better. Looking around me I noticed the place was empty, other than the old guy, Bianca and me. I noticed the clock on the wall, which read three-thirty. Fuck, I couldn't ever remember still being awake at this hour, let alone being out on the town. What a night.
When I had finished, I got up and went to use the bathroom, taking great care when I sat down and then shortly afterwards using some toilet paper. The area was very tender and sore, with some blood still there, but not too much, so that made me feel a little better. When I was done, I cleaned up and headed back out into the diner, paid my tab and said thank you to Bianca, then headed out into the night once more.
Three-thirty in the morning. Fuck! What was I thinking?
It was time to head home, so after starting my car I pointed it in that direction, making sure I obeyed all the road rules, not wanting to give any policeman a reason to pull me over. Five minutes later I turned into our driveway and parked on the grass beside the carport where my parent's vehicles were parked, then crept inside, trying not to make any noise and wake them. There was a light still on in the kitchen, but no one was up, so I switched it off, crept down the hall to my room and closed the door behind me. A minute later I pulled the curtains closed to block out the light from the streetlamp outside, then stripped naked and climbed into bed. A minute after that I was, thankfully, asleep.
* * *
I figured it must have been late when I finally awoke, with bright light showing around the edge of the curtains and the sounds of a busy Saturday happening outside, with the neighbour mowing his lawn by the sounds of it. My head was banging, my throat felt as if I'd had a baseball bat shoved down it, my body was aching and my arse was on fire, while my tongue seemed to be stuck to the roof of my mouth.
Sweet Jesus, what the hell had I done last night?
I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling, as snippets of the night before began to flash through my mind. Before long I was feeling sick to the stomach, totally disgusted with myself while also growing angrier and angrier at what I was feeling, which could only be described as betrayal.
The questions in my mind were starting to stack up now. Fuck, how could I have been so stupid to let all that happen? How could I let myself be used like that? But it wasn't just on me, was it? Hadn't Mike promised he would look after me?
My blood ran cold, and a chill went down my spine the more I thought about what had happened. And about the possible consequences. Unprotected sex in a seedy motel room with two guys I barely knew? Fuck! What was I thinking?
And what about the fact that I had swallowed their cum? Does that make the non-use of condoms irrelevant? Apart from the obvious one I was sure that there are other diseases that could also still be spread, but either way, I know that I now need to get myself tested. But how do I do that? It's not like I can go to my parents and ask them? Fuck, wouldn't that go down well? No. I was on my own now and I needed to figure this out for myself, or at the very least figure out who I could turn to.
With quite a bit of effort I dragged myself from my bed and shuffled to the window, pulling back the curtain to let the new day invade the dark little sanctuary that was my bedroom. Sunlight flooded the room and my head suddenly felt like it was ready to explode. Stumbling backwards I reached my bed and sat back down, then leaned forward, holding my head in my hands. I just knew that this wasn't going to be a good day.
Maybe I should just stay in bed? No, that wouldn't do. Even more questions would be asked then.
Getting to my feet I found a clean pair of board shorts and pulled those on. I glanced at my clothes from the night before, which lay in a crumpled pile in a corner. I then picked those up, before emptying out the pockets of my trousers, tossing my wallet and car keys and the strip of condoms onto my bed. Venturing a look at my underwear I was quite shocked to see a small dark stain in the seat of them. What was that? Blood? Fuck!
Wouldn't that be a nice shock for my mother if she was the one doing my laundry? I guess today I would be doing my own, provided nobody was home, which was often the case on a Saturday as my father usually played golf and mum would take Olly to soccer.
Leaving my clothes on the bed for the moment I ventured out into the hallway to check if I was indeed alone. Each step seemed to require quite an effort, but once I got moving they came a little easier. The house was all quiet and when I looked out through the lounge room window, which provided a view of the carport, I could see that I did indeed have the place to myself, which was confirmed when I found a note on the kitchen table.
'Hope your head doesn't hurt too much. See you after lunch. Mum,' it read.
Funny. But at least she hadn't bawled me out for driving home afterwards. Maybe that would come later?
'Right. First things first,' I said to myself. The first order of business was some more Aspirin, then coffee and something to eat. Then I needed a shower and to put my clothes in the washing machine before everyone came home.
I washed three more Aspirin down with water, then set about boiling the kettle, before spooning coffee and sugar into a mug and placing some bread in the toaster. Unsurprisingly, the sound of a whistling kettle a few minutes later, followed by that of the toast popping up, went through my brain like a sledgehammer, snapping me back to the present. Where I had gone for those few moments, I couldn't recall.
I poured my coffee, added some milk, buttered my toast, and spread some jam on it, then sat myself down at the kitchen table. It might now be late in the morning, but I still felt like I needed some breakfast.
As I sipped my coffee the only thought that was echoing around inside my brain was ‘Why, why, why?’
Why did I let it go so far?
Fuck, why did I even agree to meet the two of them in the first place?
And why am I such a fucking idiot?
A part of me wanted to just push everything that happened last night to the back of my mind and simply move on with my life, but somehow I didn't think I was going to be able to do that. Even if I could avoid Animal for the rest of my life, I would still have to face Mike again.
Mike. Who I had thought was a friend. I had to admit that I loved the feel of him entering me that first time, and of how he prepared me for that moment, and I will always be grateful for the care he seemed to have taken in doing so. That was a fantastic experience. But what followed that night has now left me feeling anxious and uncertain, and severely pissed off with what eventuated. My memories of the entire experience are not what I had always hoped the memories of my first fuck would be.
And on Monday I would see Mike again! The thought of that made me sick to the stomach.
Pushing away my untouched toast I then finished my coffee, before getting to my feet and returning to my bedroom. I gathered up my dirty clothes from the night before, along with some others I had left lying on the floor, then padded across the hall to the laundry, bundled them all into the washing machine and added some detergent, before pressing a few buttons to set the wash in motion. With that done it was time for a shower, so I headed for the bathroom and turned on the hot water, before stripping off and stepping under the stream of lukewarm water which was thankfully now heating up.
After adjusting the temperature to be as hot as I could stand, I stood there letting it wash over me, placing my head under the stream and letting it run through my hair, over my face and down my aching body. After a few minutes I found the soap and began lathering up my head and my body, loving the feel of running my soapy hands over my aching muscles and letting the suds wash away down the drain. I ran my hands down my flat stomach, massaging my fingers around my navel before moving lower, until I was soon running them through my pubic hairs and around my cock, which quickly reacted to the attention it was receiving. As tempting as it was, however, I resisted taking it any further than that. Maybe later, I thought.
Lathering up my hands once again I reached around behind me and gently let my fingers venture down between the cheeks of my arse until they touched my still tender hole. At first touch it stung but as I gently persisted it began to feel somewhat better, though it did seem to be still swollen. Hardly surprising really. When I brought my fingers up to eye level at least there was no sign of any blood, so for that I was grateful at least.
I rinsed off and shut the water off, feeling refreshed and less wrung out than when I had stepped beneath the stream of water. Stepping out of the shower I grabbed my towel and began to dry off, glancing in the bathroom mirror as I did so. It was only then that I noticed the scratch marks on my left side, just above my hip. Three even red lines. When I touched them they weren't sore, so it wasn't surprising that I hadn't realised they were there, but still, it was more evidence as to what had happened the night before.
Turning around I also checked my other side in the mirror and sure enough there were scratch marks there as well. I was in no doubt that these were Animal's handiwork as I could remember his hands on my hips as he pounded my arse. He must have been trying to make sure he had a good hold of me. The arsehole!
I finished drying myself, ran my hands roughly through my dark hair to flatten it down a little, then crossed the hallway to my bedroom, still naked, where I found my phone and switched it on. I needed to take some photos of the scratch marks, to give me some proof of what happened, just in case it might be needed.
The thought had crossed my mind that I should report what had happened, but even if I did wouldn't it just be said that if three guys were going to a motel room with the intention of having sex then it was all consensual? Wasn't I a willing participant? And if it got a little rough then shouldn't I have just said no and put a stop to it?
If it were only that simple.
Heading back to the bathroom I used the large mirror and took a couple of photos of each side of my torso, then pulled on my board shorts once more and went in search of a loose-fitting t-shirt to cover the scratch marks, just in case someone came home.
The emotions that were running through my head were conflicting. I'd finally had sex, which was something that I, and every other teenaged guy since time began, had been yearning for, but the experience was far from what I had expected, or even hoped for. It would certainly be an event that would stay etched in my memory, I was certain of that, but perhaps not for the reasons I would have hoped. Mentally I was feeling down, flat, as if I'd had the wind knocked out of my sails. I was also angry, yet at the same time I was feeling guilty about what had taken place. Seriously, my head was a mess! I was surprised I'd even had the foresight to take photos of the scratches.
I was, however, feeling somewhat better than I had felt when I had dragged myself from my bed earlier, so that had to be something at least. According to my phone it was nearing midday, which seemed like a good time for another coffee and an attempt to eat something. On returning to the kitchen I found my toast still sitting on the table, cold and hard, so I picked that up and dropped it into the trash bin, before placing the plate in the sink. More coffee was bound to help, I figured, so I set about turning on the kettle and making myself another cup, then while the water boiled, I checked the refrigerator to see what leftovers I might find and being rewarded with some pizza from the night before. Perfect.
It was while I was eating the reheated pizza that I heard the sound of vehicles pulling into the carport outside, followed shortly by that of a bouncing ball coming up the path outside the back door. Mum and Olly soon appeared at the door to the kitchen, with my father hot on their heels.
To be continued . . .
Authors Note:
Hi there. It has been a while since I have posted anything new on Nifty. I guess life gets in the way sometimes.
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