This week, on Don't Look Back, we go back a few years, as we start to delve deeper into when, how and why the relationship between Marshall and Lee became what it is today. Don't forget to visit the other Briefers, whose links follow my tale. Enjoy!
Marshall had changed during the five years he’d been kept
away from Lee, both physically and emotionally. These changes had begun about
the age of ten or so, and at first he didn’t know what was happening to him. He
was afraid it was something he’d be punished for. It wasn’t until later
he realized it had just been puberty rearing its ugly head. Not that his mother
seemed to notice.
At first, he was a little scared, and more than a little
confused by what was happening to him, and he had no one to talk to about his
situation. He outgrew his clothes faster than before, and Rhonda would begrudgingly
buy him new ones—usually from a thrift store or garage sale—and then she’d
complain when he outgrew those. She grumbled
about what a pain in the ass he was, as if he’d deliberately added inches to
his height, and extra pounds to his body, just to annoy her.
The other changes weren’t quite as apparent, except for his
voice, which he didn’t use all that much anyway. He felt different inside, and
he couldn’t even begin to understand what that was all about. He often became
restless, which made his continued confinements by his mother more and more
unbearable. Marshall alternated between anger and sorrow, and sometimes inexplicable
moments of happiness, although those were few and far between, and only when he
thought about Lee.
He’d have strange dreams at night, such as he’d never had
before. Sexual dreams involving himself and faceless, unknown men. And in the
morning, he’d find his sheets stiff, coated with a dried substance he couldn’t
account for. He never said a word to Rhonda, and since doing the laundry was
one of his chores, she never noticed. By the time he was thirteen, he’d discovered
the art of masturbation, and the pleasure to be had in touching himself. He also
knew, thanks to the magazines his mother’s lovers sometimes left around the
house, that women’s bodies did nothing for him, but men’s bodies sure as hell
did.
Marshall left Lee a frightened eight-year-old boy, but he
came back to him as a teenager, well on his way to becoming a man. His feelings
for Lee had only grown deeper during the five long years of his absence when he
never stopped dreaming of being reunited with the father he loved.
By the time Lee found and claimed him, Marshall had stopped
thinking of him as father, even inside his own head—he was now just Lee to him.
The man he loved more than anything.
Naturally, none of Marshall’s old clothes fit his new frame.
Rather than being angry, Lee was more than happy to take Marshall out and get
him a new wardrobe. They went to a huge shopping center called Mall of America,
in Minnesota, and Lee bought whatever Marshall wanted, and some things he never
thought to ask for. Roy stuck with them at all times. Marshall got the
impression Roy was keeping an eye out for Rhonda, but she never appeared. Soon,
Marshall began to grow fond of the protective private detective, although it
was Lee he clung to for support.
At first, being on the run as they were, and never alone,
Marshall didn’t have much opportunity to think about anything other than eluding
his mother. But once they’d finally stopped running and wound up in Burnham,
alone in the house Lee had bought just for them, Marshall became aware that Lee
had changed as well, during his absence.
Or perhaps he’d just never noticed before how devastatingly
handsome Lee was. How well-built. How strong. He was a beautiful man.
Lee had always been a disciplinarian, and that hadn’t
changed. He made sure Marshall toed the line and did as he was told. His mother
had done the same thing, but with Lee it was different. It was done with love,
and didn’t depend on fear, but on respect.
True, sometimes Marshall mouthed off, and he always paid the
price. But he quickly learned that there was a sort of pleasure to be had in
his punishments, and perhaps sometimes he secretly did it just to see what Lee
would do. He enjoyed the feel of Lee’s hand on his bare ass. Although he never
told him that, naturally. He didn’t want Lee to think there was something wrong
with him.
He liked sleeping in Lee’s bed again, felt comfortable being
held by Lee every night, safe and secure from the dreams that haunted him when
he was alone. But Lee’s proximity presented a problem of its own. He couldn’t
very well jack off without Lee knowing about it.
Since Lee never left him alone in the house, especially
right after his return, Marshall had to resort to using the bathroom in order
to satisfy the needs of his horny cock. Luckily, it didn’t take long, as he
didn’t have great stamina yet, and he managed to flush the evidence away, so
Lee would never suspect a thing.
But his wet dreams had changed, and the once-faceless men
had a face—Lee’s. Which made it even more imperative that Marshall conduct his
business in private, so Lee wouldn’t discover Marshall was thinking about him
when he jacked off.
Marshall couldn’t seem to help himself; he fantasized about
Lee constantly. He’d seen him naked, of course, so he knew exactly what he
looked like, and how he felt pressed up against him in bed, but his imagination
went even further. He thought about Lee’s lips pressed against his own, Lee’s
hand touching his cock, rubbing it the way he did himself, holding him and
loving him, man to man. Equal to equal.
One day, he forced himself to admit the truth—he was in love
with Lee.
Now what?
to be continued
Now go see what the other Briefers are up to!
No comments:
Post a Comment