Remember, this short story contains sexual depictions between two consenting, adult men.
If you’re not 18+ years (or whatever is the legal age in your country), please, do not proceed. Also, if you’re easily offended by content like this, you’ve been warned. This is your last chance to go back 😉
Paranormal, m/m short story
I really didn’t have any clue of what was going on around me. I walked through life blindfolded, completely oblivious of the things that lurked in the dark, numbed by my own inability of having dreams, of wanting something good for me. I guess, in a way, this was what called him—it?—to me, this velvety darkness that always surrounded me, even on the brightest, most cheerful days.
From the outside, I was the perfect guy. I was careful with what I ate, I went to the gym, I was good looking, had a nice body—hell, I had a real nice fucking body; even men fell for it. Some guy once dropped the cheesy line of the fallen angel on me, in the gym’s locker room. I looked at him with a frown, because I always did this, my immediate knee-jerk reaction was to frown, to show them I was no queer. I was sick and tired of having guys making passes at me, saying I had a damn fine body, all chiseled and shit. Yeah, I have a nice fucking body, but it’s not for you, bitch. I love women, I eat pussy. I love to make them moan and writhe under my strong arms, make them ache for my thick cock and give it to them when they can’t bear it any longer, bury it deep inside of that sweet wetness that embraces you and makes the world disappear. Even if sometimes in my dreams I see a shadow of a man, a strong man, a sturdy frame of a man that sweeps me with his bulging arms, throws me into bed, and fucks me hard without even asking if I want him to. I’ve awaken from this shit more than once, drenched in sweat, panting like I’d run for ten miles, a raging hard-on impossible to ignore even after having come all over my boxers. I’ve always told myself this was some sort of aberration and it meant nothing, but now I know better. Now I know it was him, playing with me, his new toy, preying on me even before I knew I was being hunted.
So, one day I left the office and all was normal and shit. It had been another day of smiles and being a gentleman to my coworkers, helping people out even when all I wanted was to punch someone in the face because most of those guys where real dumb-asses that annoyed me beyond belief. Before leaving for the day, I did what I’d always done, and opened my browser to read some news and see what was going on in the world. My Facebook feed was filled with one of those fake-ass piece of news, some bullshit about a girl possessed by some sort of demon that had ended up killing her family. I silently rolled my eyes and sighed. Why, why did people fall for that shit? This wasn’t the Dark Ages where every fucking disease was treated like some sort of demonic possession and shit. Now we had doctors and diagnostics, and most of those people claiming to be possessed were either liars or crazy.
Demons? Give me a break!
I shut down my computer and left feeling I couldn’t go one more day looking at those people. I had to find a new job somewhere, something that gave real meaning to my life and helped me get out of that black hole my existence ended up being. I exited the building scanning the street and observing all those anonymous faces that hurried along from their homes to their jobs, to their homes again, to earn the money they needed to pay for cars and houses that someone, somewhere, had told them it was something people did when they grew up, binding them to lifelong contracts from which there was no escape. Was this all there was? People fucking each other for pieces of paper we could exchange for electronic shit we had to trade up every six months to fill up the void that inevitably would appear again? Marco, my best friend, was always telling me my problem was I thought too much and acted too little. I needed to go out more and eat more pussy. If I focused on that, my problems would go away. Yeah, except for the part that however much I avoided depressing news they always had a way of finding me, like those ice shelves on the North Pole, as big as New York, that had detached themselves and were melting. Sometimes, I felt like one of those big icebergs: detached and lonely, melting away in the middle of the modern disease that was indifference.
As I walked down the street immersed in my own darkness I felt something different in the air, something I couldn’t quite explain. I was subdued by an intense cold that left me shuddering and gave me the creeps. Every body hair on me stood up, preparing for something I didn’t know what it was. I had to stop and lean on a wall as I took deep breaths and fought that urge to throw up that had came out of nowhere, the world spinning around me. After a moment, the sensation disappeared and I was able to compose myself, breathing deeply as to confirm that everything was okay and the world stood still. I looked around and there was this stillness to everything that I had never noticed, like reality was faded and I was watching an old movie in slow motion. I blinked several times and swallowed hard as my throat had become really dry, and everything went back to normal.
I resumed my walk to the subway. The city was dark and cold, gusts of freezing wind blowing garbage in a upwards spiral in alleys, cars honking, the loud buzz of the crowd talking to their cellphones, walking around like zombies. I pulled the collar of my overcoat up and snuggled the scarf around my neck to fight the fucking wind that was blowing harder, and approached the subway entrance wishing for that day to be over. I just wanted to slip onto my couch, pour myself a nice whiskey and forget about that miserable day.
I went around the corner, into Main Street, where my subway station was, and I heard a deep voice speaking to me, right next to my ear. I jumped to the side and looking around, dazed, trying to find the person responsible for that shit, but I saw no one. My heart pounded and I heaved a couple of deep breaths as I searched for the man that had scared me shitless. A couple of strangers walked around me, making sure they had a good distance between themselves and me, the freak that jumped for no reason in the middle of the street. I rubbed my eyes and tried to calm myself, thinking that it had probably been the traffic or someone on the other side of the road, and that for some reason I’d heard it like it was right next to me.
As I walked down the stairs to the subway, I noticed the air had a different quality to it. It seemed heavy and smelly, even more than usual. It seemed to shimmer with strange reflections that lasted for an instant and then disappeared, followed by tears, like reality was being played on an old VCR and the tape was so worn out that the top half of the image in front of you was slightly misaligned with the bottom half. This is the best way I can described it, as the phenomenon lasted but for a second and was gone after I blinked my eyes, trying to focus. I grabbed the handrail as the walls began to move like they were made of jelly, waving in a nauseating pattern. I tried to keep my balance but the stairs under me shook so hard I fell down. Next thing I remember I was lying on the subway platform, deep underground, looking up. There was something pressing on my back and the ceiling was gone. In its place there was a black, thick, creamy mist that slowly contorted itself in random patterns. For a second I thought I felt it staring at me, watching me like a hound, making sure I wasn’t going anywhere.
“It won’t bite you. You don’t need to be afraid,” a voice said from behind me, the same voice that just before had screamed to my ear and had made me jump. Every hair on my body stood up again, a wave of shudders taking a hold of me.
I got up as fast as I could and my head spun wildly. I tried to focus the world around me and balance myself, stretching my arms, my hands desperate to grip something that would help me make sense again of that fluid world. I felt a hand grabbing mine, a large, warm hand that made my chest compress and my crotch burn. I righted myself and looked up. In front of me there was a tall man with broad shoulders and strong neck. His large frame suggested that underneath his suit lied a bulging figure. For some reason this though made me gasp for air and my dick jump. I could feel the blood flowing down there, making me hard with each heartbeat, my dick pressing itself against my pants, harder and harder. I fought my boner and felt ashamed and angry for the way my body had reacted to the touch of a total stranger; a man, for crying out loud!
The man tilted his head ever so slightly to the side and a smirk set itself on his lips. My gaze was drawn to his face where a perfectly trimmed blond beard adorned him, making his lush, reddish lips pop even more. Cascades of long, wavy dark blond hair fell on his shoulders and framed a pair of green eyes that pierced me and seemed to be searching for something deep inside my soul. He looked familiar but I didn’t remember having seen him before.
“Who are you?” I asked, and my voice trembled, betraying the fear I was fighting to conceal.
His smirk grew in size and his eyelids became two slits, as if mocking me. “You don’t remember?”
His voice was dark, rich and echoed inside of me. My skin hummed to his tune and my boner raged in my trousers. I was panting like a racehorse and couldn’t remember a time where I’d felt so fucking hard and aroused. Not even Amy with her round tits and amazing blowjob skills had made him this hard. And she had been the best fuck I’d ever had.
“Should I? I don’t think we’ve met before,” I said in a firm tone, trying to control the shudders that ran all over me from time to time. His eyes slowly scanned me and I became terrified that he could read my thoughts, that he knew how aroused I was and for some fucked up reason wanted him to take me right there and fuck the shit out of me. What the fuck is wrong with me? I was screaming inside my own head, trying to make sense of the nightmare that enveloped me. Suddenly, it clicked. The guy! He was the guy from my dreams, the one that fucked me hard, no questions asked.
My eyes widened in fear and he smiled.
“You remembered,” he said, letting my hand go and slowly walking around me, his eyes running from my head to my toes, like I was cattle on display and he was evaluating my worth.
I was terrified and couldn’t move. I don’t know if it was the fear or something else but my feet were nailed to the floor and my head stiff as an old, rusty cog. He vanished from my sight but I could feel him behind me, his footsteps echoing on the deserted subway platform where a strange brown mist distorted the walls and gave them and old, crumbly look. I thought that I was going mad and prayed for it to be a bad dream, willed myself into waking up from that nightmare and be on my bed, drenched in sweat as usual. But the coldness of the air penetrating my mouth, the slow, rhythmic drops of water falling down from somewhere above us, the hum on my skin, all of this told me it was no dream.
The footsteps drew closer to me. I could feel his warm breath on my neck, a strong hand running down my back. I wanted to look but I couldn’t move.
“What are you doing?” I shouted, terrified.
He didn’t answer. Instead, he ripped my clothes off of me and tossed them aside, leaving me naked. I looked down and saw my own dick, still hard, still waiting for something, a release, anything that would soothe that fiery sensation that was consuming me. My paralysis was also gone and I could move again. I tried to cover myself up with my hands, and my eyes scanned the place for the man of my nightmares. As soon as my hands touched my dick tough, I was consumed by a need like I had never felt before. I looked down and saw it throbbing, its head purple and huge, my whole dick bigger that I’d ever seen him, slowly leaking and consuming me with lust. I whimpered and tried to move my hands aside, fighting that urge to jerk-off and end the sweet agony that was melting my brain away.
“Touch it,” the man said, walking out of the darkness, further down the platform, where he had gone.
I looked up and felt ashamed and horny at the same time. I was being consumed by a lust I’d never experienced before and was in dire need of… something, something I didn’t knew exactly what it was but suspected. A fleeting thought that I would dare not let live, although it was a battle I was loosing.
“Or would you prefer if I was the one touching it?” the man said, approaching me in slow, resolved steps. “Do you want me to grab your cock, Jason? Or perhaps you’d like if I fucked you senseless, like I did so many times in your dreams.”
His voice rumbled through me and I whimpered, unable to resist it, unable to say to him that I wanted nothing of that, that he could go fuck himself, because the truth was I desired him, I needed his touch, I wanted to feel his dick inside of me and that was making me crazy. I fought with myself to no avail. I couldn’t block those feelings or those images.
The man continued walking towards me. I saw him unzipping his pants and sliding his hand inside, reaching for something. He took his cock out, a massive, throbbing dick, veiny and thick, leaking his juices, and I opened my mouth in disbelief when I felt my own cock jump at the sight. I wanted him, but I didn’t; I needed him inside of him, fucking me senseless and I hated myself for it.
I squeezed my dick and licked my dry lips, whimpering as he approached me. He rubbed his cock head on my thigh and I felt its heat burning me. My dick throbbed and leaked a bit more. I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Fuck me!” I pleaded in a hoarse voice, not recognizing myself.
The man snickered and grabbed me by my waist. He turned me with a toss and bent me, rubbing his dick on my ass. The feeling was like nothing I’d ever felt. My whole body shuddered in pleasure, I felt compelled to grind my ass on him and beg for more. I didn’t need to say anything, though, because he continued to rub his cock slick with precum on me, lighting a fire I couldn’t bear.
“Fuck me!” I said again, moaning and gasping, desperate to feel him inside of me, to feel that veiny rod pounding me senseless.
He complied. He opened me in a single, powerful thrust that left me gasping for air. The pain spread through me like wildfire and I thought I was going to faint from it. He pumped back and thrust again, this time going deeper, turning on my pain alarms and making me cringe. When I was ready to scream, to beg him to stop, something happened. His cock touched something inside of me that flooded me in pleasure. Suddenly, there was no pain, there was no nothing except for that feeling buried deep inside of me. He pounded again and the ecstasy spread a bit further, I could feel his cock inside of me, its heat filling me without the pain. Again he thrust and my dick leaked its juices a bit more. I was being jerked-of from the inside and there was a massive tide of lust and pleasure taking over me, making me forget of the world, making me forget that I wasn’t a homo, that I enjoyed to fuck women.
He pounded my ass with increased vigor, grabbing me by my hips, and every time he pumped his cock into me my dick leaked a bit more. He increased the frequency and I felt it: that point of no return that precedes the sweet release you’ve been waiting for. I reached with my hand for my dick but it was too late. I groaned louder than I’d ever groaned, and came in big gushes as if he was squeezing me from the inside. The intensity of my orgasm was such that my cum spurt all over my chest and chin. I panted, spent, the world slowly focusing again as I felt him still pounding me. I heard him howl and a moment later felt his warm load inside of me. His dick expanded to the rhythm of his orgasm while he groaned and I felt my dick coming alive again, a raging hard-on that had never left me, as if I hadn’t had sex in a while and hadn’t just came all over me like never before. My insides contracted to his rhythm and my brain let go of everything. My lips parted and my eyelids closed as I felt a wave of pleasure building up against the tip of my dick. My abs contracted and I came again with the same strength, firehosing cum all over me, grunting again with unexpected lust.
He took his cock out of me and I felt empty. I stood there for a moment, trying to catch my breath, my legs faltering under my, suddenly, impossible weight.
“What have you done to me?” I asked as soon as my breathing calmed down.
“Nothing you weren’t dreaming of,” he said in a deep voice, his hand running over his beard, his cock hanging out of his pants. He didn’t seem tired and his breathing was perfectly paced.
I righted myself and suddenly felt dirty and ashamed. The lust was gone and my head was clear.
“Who are you?”
“That doesn’t matter for now.” He lit a cigarette. The glow from the lighter cast contorted shadows on the wall beside him, shadows that seemed alive with inhuman shapes. The man took a drag and exhaled the smoke. “You only have to know that I’m the one in your dreams and I’ll be back again. Soon. I have… shall we say, an interest in you. I’ll protect you from what is coming.”
I furrowed my eyebrows as he spoke in riddles. I didn’t understood what he meant by that, but a shiver ran through me and fear settled itself on my gut.
“What do you mean? Why did you do this to me?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he smiled and took a step back, letting the velvety darkness that was behind him consume him. The last thing I saw was a pair of glowing, disembodied eyes that seemed to mock me. And then, he was gone.