Wednesday, May 20, 2015

Wednesday Briefs: Don't Look Back #46 (9.3)

Happy Wednesday, everyone! Hump Day, already? Well, that must mean it's time for some flash fiction from the Wednesday Briefers, authors who write weekly tales between 500 and 1000 words, inspired by one of our prompts!

This week, in Don't Look Back, Marshall's memory continues, as he spills his heart to Lee, while he wonders if Lee loves him the same way too?  Don't forget to check out what the other Briefers are up to. Their links follow my tale. Enjoy!


Don't Look Back #46 (9.3)


“Wh-why not?” Marshall’s heart beat painfully, and he had to fight against the tears that threatened.

“Because… we just… there’s things…”

Marshall had never seen Lee look as flustered as he did at that moment. His cheeks were flush, and his eyes were filled with something Marshall couldn’t identify. At first, he thought it might be horror at the idea, and his heart clenched. But then he rethought that idea, and decided that saying no was causing Lee pain. Which only fed his notion that Lee wanted him too.

“What things, Lee? I don’t understand.” Marshall pushed, even as he scooted a little closer to Lee, close enough to feel the warmth of Lee’s breath on his skin. He heard Lee’s breath hitch, watched him struggle to regain control of himself. Marshall unabashedly took advantage of the moment to kiss Lee again, at the same time, placing his hand on Lee’s hip.

He felt Lee’s response, heard him moan, and he didn’t push Marshall back near as quickly as he had the first time. “I said we can’t,’ Lee repeated in a stricken voice.

“You want me, I know you do,” Marshall persisted. “Same as I want you. Want me to pull back the blanket? I bet the proof is there, for both of us.” He knew his cock was hard. He suspected Lee’s was the same, or he wouldn’t be fighting so hard. Why was he fighting?

“You’re young… you’re… confused,” Lee said. “It’s a… it’s just a crush, that’s all. It happens. Nothing wrong with that. In time, you’ll get over it. Fall in love with someone. And then you’ll look back, and you’ll know… well, you’ll understand, once you find the right woman—”

“Don’t want a woman.”

“Well then, right man.”

“Don’t want any other man. I want you, Lee. Only you. I love you, Lee.”

“I love you too, Marshall, always have—”

“I’m in love with you, Lee. I realize that now. I know the difference between infatuation and love.”

“You haven’t been around long enough to know that.”

“I know what my heart says.”

Lee made no immediate response, and Marshall pressed his advantage. He leaned in and rubbed his nose against Lee’s in an Eskimo kiss. He pressed himself against Lee, and his heart rejoiced when he felt confirmation of his suspicion—Lee was just as hard as he was. Their cocks brushed against one another, and an electric zing zipped through Marshall at the contact. He instinctively began to rub against Lee, wanting to feel more.

“Oh Jesus fuck,” Lee moaned. “For the love of God, Marshall, don’t do that. Please. You’re killin’ me here.”

Marshall drew back, reluctantly, his eyes searching Lee’s. “Don’t you love me?” he murmured.

“Of course I love you, I told you so—”

“Not like that. You know what I mean. Tell me you don’t love me the same way I love you. As a man. As a lover.”

Long agonizing seconds passed between them, and Marshall began to fear he wouldn’t get a response, but at long last, Lee’s lips parted, and he said, so softly Marshall wasn’t sure he heard him, “Yes, I do.”

Marshall thrilled to those words, all his previous apprehensions washed away at the knowledge of Lee’s love. All was right with his world once more. With a growing confidence, he claimed Lee’s lips again, and this time, Lee returned the kiss for a fraction of a second longer before putting a halt to it.

“Marshall, you don’t understand—”

“Sure I do. I love you, you love me, what else is there to understand?”

“Society, for one….”

“Fuck society.”

Lee arched an eyebrow but he let the language pass without comment.

“You and me… we’re different. I mean, it’s hard enough for two men, but for us… it’s almost impossible….”

“I don’t care. I just want to be with you. I want you to make love to me.”

“Marshall, please listen to me. You’re only fifteen. You’ll change, that’s only natural. What you think you want now won’t be what you want a month from now, six months from now. And certainly not ten years from now.”

“Nothing’s going to change,” Marshall said with confidence. “I will always love you, and you’ll always love me, right?” He raised his hand to Lee’s face, traced the strong jawline. Unexpectedly, Lee reached for his hand, held the fingertips to his lips and kissed each one.

“God forgive me, but I love you very much,” Lee admitted. “I love the man you’ve become. You’re everything to me.”

“Then make love to me?” Marshall resumed his rubbing against Lee. He wanted Lee in the worst possible way. He couldn’t wait.

“No. Roll over right this minute, Marshall Clinton, or you’ll find yourself sleeping in your own room so fast it’ll make your head spin.”

Marshall knew Lee wasn’t playing, and he meant what he said, so he quickly rotated until he was facing away from Lee, but he was still close enough to feel Lee’s erection poke him in his ass.

“Marshall, listen to me. I know this is new to you, and it’s damn well new to me too, and frankly, I’m not sure what in hell to do. But I do know one thing. You’re fifteen goddamn years old, and I sure as hell am not going to commit anything that even slightly resembles statutory rape. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir,” Marshall replied. His head was spinning, and he felt euphoric, ecstatic, and on top of the fucking world happy.

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to be with you… in that way. I refuse to lie to you. Ever. Now roll back over and look at me, but keep your hands to yourself.” Marshall quickly obeyed.

“I can’t swear what the future holds, but I do know this. There will be no lovemaking until you turn eighteen. Got it?”

“Yes, sir. Got it.”

Marshall decided he could wait.

to be continued

Now see what the other Briefers are up to!

No comments:

Post a Comment