The Student Auction - Part 8

All characters are consenting adults (18+)

The hiss of the shower filled the bathroom with a heavy, thick steam. It wasn’t a normal steam, either. Mixed into the mist, the sweet stench of hot, young passion filled my lungs with every breath I took. It reminded me of a sauna and made my naked body damp and sticky with sweat.

I’d come to the conclusion that Mason Creevey looked phenomenal in every possible setting. He was beautiful in the morning, when he stood in the kitchen making breakfast. He was beautiful at night, when he lay sleeping next to me, breathing low and slow. He was beautiful here, there and everywhere, but there was something truly special about watching him now.

The shower hardly contained him. It had been made with my family in mind, and Mason was larger, sturdier and more muscular than all of us. He filled it out, but not once did he complain. He stood there, in all his glory; completely indifferent to his nudity. Perhaps he liked to show off. I certainly liked that he liked to show off.

The water was so hot that it made steam rise from him. He lifted his thick arms, ran his hands through his wet hair, and revealed armpits that I wanted to suffocate in.

Would death by Mason be so bad? If ever I had to die someday, I could think of nothing better than my last breath being between his arms, or legs, or ass. Then I checked myself. How had a boy lured me so far into my own head, that I considered how death would feel? It was absurd. This was absurd, and still, I sat on the edge of the toilet, and watched him watch me.

Beads rolled down his pecs. They dripped from his nipples, poured further down his abs, and disappeared into his short bush. A steady trickle of shower water poured from the end of his plump organ, and looked as though he was peeing. The part of my depraved mind that had always remained hidden in the shadows, wanted to see him actually pee.

“Get in” he said warmly, opening his hand. Opening his legs. Opening his body. Get in and put your mouth around my cock and let me piss in you. That’s what I wanted to hear, but that’s not what he said, and truthfully, such disturbing fantasies had rarely ever flooded my mind like this.

“I don’t think we’ll both fit” I said, my legs pressed together, so that my thighs hid my excitement. Mason didn’t care that we wouldn’t fit. I liked that about him. So carefree.

He helped me in, and now the water felt even hotter, because the hottest man on the planet had his hands on my body, and I could have been standing under molten lava, and I wouldn’t have cared even slightly, because I was standing there with him.

Mason slid his fingers through my hair in a way that, whilst not sexual, made my dick stand to attention, pointing away from my groin, directly at him. He massaged my head with just one hand, and poured soap down my chest with the other.

How could he turn something as natural as cleaning, into something so wildly erotic? The cool gel slipped down my body, leaving it’s residue in it’s path as he continued to stroke my head. Was this how dogs felt, being comforted by their masters? Was Mason now my master? I shivered, he smiled, he touched me down below, and I moaned.

“You’re eager today” he told me.

I’m eager every day when I think of you.

“Yeah” I nodded. Why could I only speak in secrets to this man? Why did my brain refuse to allow my true feelings to pour from my mouth, directly into his? I want you to fuck my fucking brains out, Mason. I want you to hold me down, pull my legs apart and take the virginity that I don’t want anymore. Do it hard. Do it until I beg you to stop, and don’t stop. Just fuck me. Fuck me now, fuck me later, fuck me forever.

He twisted his hand around my cock. The sensitivity made my mouth drop open, and I stood there with my head back, and relaxed into a soapy handjob that had me bouncing on the balls of my feet a moment later.

“It’s getting late” he said, “what do you say we watch another movie tonight?”

“Can it be scary?” I asked, because how could I ever go to bed alone again, after having Mason in bed with me once before?

“Sure” he whispered, pushing his lips to my ear, breathing on me, breathing in me.

In the living room, the two of us stood naked. The place was a mess. I could picture my parents exploding with rage as they looked around at the pile of clothing and the rest of the trash. “Sit down” Mason said, and gestured toward the sofa, “get comfortable”.

It felt odd to be invited to sit down on my own sofa. Odder again, that I was naked there, too. I walked across the room and did as Mason had asked, and looked back to find him cleaning.

“You don’t have to” I told him, “I’ll do it tomorrow”.

“That’s why I’m here, remember?” He said, smiling up at me, with his cock dangling between his legs.

The words did little to comfort me. Yes, he was correct, but had I not shown him that this was more than a dumb student auction? Had I not proven that the reason he was here wasn’t just because he’d been purchased, but because I so desperately wanted him to be? What did I have to do?

He cleared the room quickly, and sat down next to me. His warm skin brushed against mine, and his arm draped over my shoulder. I nuzzled into him, pulled my legs up to my ass, and enjoyed the feeling as best I could. Would I ever feel it again after this weekend? Would Mason leave, and never return? Would he look at me in school? Talk to me?

I don’t know what movie he put on, because my brain wasn’t focused on the television. Maybe I wasn’t good at showing my feelings. Maybe I had to talk to him. Let him know the things that had been rushing through my mind since the moment he stepped foot inside my house.

My heart slammed.

“Are you okay?” He asked, looking down at me.

“Yeah” I nodded. Then my face burned because I’d done it again, and then I looked back up at him and said “no”.

His face softened so quickly, and he held me to inspect my body. “What’s wrong?” He asked, concern in his voice, “did I hurt you in the shower?”

“No, no, it’s not that”.

His grip around my arms relaxed, and Mason stared into my eyes. It was so intense that I wondered if, instead of telling him, he could simply sense that I had fallen in love with him.

“What is it?”

This was it. This was the moment that I had both dreaded and craved. To put myself before him, as vulnerable as humanly possible, and tell the man of my dreams that he was the man of my dreams.

“I’m in love with you”.

The words felt like gum in my mouth. Thick, sticky and difficult. Maybe I said them wrong, or awkwardly, or too fast or too slow, or maybe I said them backwards, because the blood pumping through my body was pumping so fast that words didn’t sound like words at all, and perhaps I’d ruined everything, and –.

His kiss silenced my mind.

Mason sat back. The taste of toothpaste remained on my lips, and although we’d kissed before, this one was different. This kiss had been a conversation. A silent, intimate conversation that told us both the same thing. He hadn’t said the words, because he hadn’t needed to, and then he did say them, and everything felt perfect.

“I’m in love with you, too” he told me, and rubbed his thumb across my bottom lip so gently that I felt like crying.

He loved me. Mason Creevey loved me. Me, the person who I had grown to believe that no man could love. The person, who, from childhood, was different to the other boys. Different, because I didn’t like girls. Different, because I wanted a boyfriend, even though I was told it’s wrong. Different, because I believed it was wrong, and didn’t think I’d ever experience it, and now I was experiencing it.

“In bed tonight” he whispered, caressing my cheek with his soft finger, “we’re going to make love”.

A sharp breath poured from me. Mason pushed his thumb between my lips, over my tongue, back and forth. “I’m going to fuck you, Matty” he said, “I’m going to fuck you all night, until I can’t fuck you anymore”.

“Finally” I replied, licking.