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    ChaseRose
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Breaking Quincy - 10. Chapter 10 - Awakening

This is, thus far, my favorite chapter. The last part (from Parkers POV) is based off real life experiences, so it's very personal to me.

This scene contains sexal content.

Breaking Quincy :

 

Awakening

 

We sat side by side on the couch, watching some old Friends reruns. It was late in the evening, about 1 am. Parker's mother wouldn't be home for another two hours. His arm was around my shoulders and I snuggled up to his side. The comfort was much needed. I felt safe and relaxed, and for a moment, I was too busy chucking at Monica and Rachel's onscreen antics to think about my father's disapproval.

 

Parker, through out the night, had physically gotten closer to me. We started off on opposite sides of the couch. He kept scooting closer until our hips touched. He put his arm over my shoulder. I was now aware of his fingers slowly caressing my shoulder. He's just comforting me, I told myself, not wanting to get worked up. I was safe here, with the team captain. I trusted him in the pool. I could trust him now. I shifted a bit, trying to relax my nerves, trying to refocus on the television show.

 

Parker's fingers traced over my collarbone, stroking my skin, slowly slinking up neck, burrowing into my hair. I swallowed hard as he started to massage my scalp, running his fingers through my brown locks. It felt funny. He was being tender, but I didn't know if I was ready to be physical yet. Didn't he realize my father had just disowned me? Maybe the scalp massaged was just his way of telling me he was there for me. I relaxed again, deciding to let myself enjoy the tender attention.

 

Perhaps he took my relaxation as a sign of welcoming, because in a flash, I was on my back on the couch, the tan boy on top of me. He started kissing me. Hard. His lips were pressed to mine, both hands in my hair, gripping it tightly. Our tongue slammed together, and I was too shocked to protest. As he gave my hair soft yank, I felt a sort of panic run through me, and I squirmed under him. He didn't seem to notice, or mind, because he didn't slow down. His lips attached to my neck, biting and nibbling at my skin.

 

I was so confused. I had just came out to my family. I was kicked out. I was scared. Could Parker not see that? Did he not care? Was I just some toy for him? I mean, he acted like he cared deeply for me. And Asher had, of course, jumped me like this. That's not true, I told myself, looking at the ceiling, spacing out as Parker started to push my shirt up. He's good to me. When we first had sex, sure there was passion in it, but he was never unnecessarily rough with me. I mean, I enjoyed a good ass spanking as much as the next guy, but I knew Asher loved me, even when he was tugging at my hair. I never felt used or taken advantage of with him.

 

I came crashing back down to my body as I felt Parker's teeth on my nipple, nibbling at it. He was panting hard, grinding his hips against my leg. I suddenly realized how wrong this all was. I didn't want this. I had come here, looking for safety and friendship, not a fuck. I was not a fuck!

 

My hands gripped Parker's shoulders, pressing against him, trying to push him off. "Wait," I said softly, a bit worried to contradict him. He was so suave and sexy. Of course I was attracted to him. Maybe at a different time and place, I'd want this, want him. Not now, though. My heart was aching with the sudden loss of my family, with the sight of Asher and Sasha. How could I be ready for sex?

 

"Let me make you feel better," Parker hissed softly as he pressed down against my hands. He was stronger than I was, though sculpted muscles pushing against me. His knee came up between my legs, rubbing against my crotch as he lifted my shirt up over my head. I felt the No bubble up in my throat, but to be honest, I was too nervous and intimidated by this older boy to stop him. I guess this is why my father didn't want a gay son. He didn't want a weak son. As I gave into fear and stopped struggling, I knew I was weak as they come.

 

Pathetic.

 

Riiiing. Riiing. That caught my attention. I had set a special ring on my phone set for Asher, so I knew it was he calling. Asher! God, what I wouldn't give to have him here right now. He was moody and overprotective, but he was man and he loved me. I could use a moody, overprotective man right now. How could I ever think I could love anyone else? Riiiing. My phone was on the coffee table, lights flashing, ringing loudly.

 

"My phone…" I sputtered, struggling under Parker's assault, the rush of adrenaline and panic running wild in my veins as he held me down. "It's Asher." I reached my arm out from under Parker, trying to grab it.

 

"Asher," Parker said with more than a little contempt. He moved to straddle my waist, sitting on my hips, fingers running over my chest, massaging my pecs. I looked up at him, towering over me. He was beautiful and gorgeous as always, but his eyes had a lust in them that shook me to my core. "Who cares about Asher? He wasn't there for you. I am."

 

That was a lie! Parker wasn't there for me. If he were, he'd look past his own hunger and see how frightened and confused I was. I struggled harder under the boy's weight, my cheeks pink as his thumb stroked my lip. He really was seductive and secretly, part of my body wanted him. I could feel my crotch hardening some, much to my disgust. What mattered, however, was that my brain had made up it's mind, and I needed Asher.

 

As Parker focused his attention on my pants, I managed to swipe my phone. I was always a quick texted, like most teenagers my age. "Parker's. Quick." I had Asher saved as my number 1 contacted, so I sent it to him within seconds. I saw the message that said Sent just as Parker reached out and took the phone from me, tossing it aside on a nearby couch chair. I trembled under him, unsure of what to do or say.

 

"Relax," Parker whispered, his voice soft and soothing. Calm, as always. He was still trying to be tender, to coax me into giving in. Was this what predators did? I always thought there were ropes and drugs involved. Harsh words and slapping and bruises and such. Parker wasn't like that. His kisses were soft, his touch caring. I was more confused than ever. Was he trying to fuck me, or make love to me?

 

His thumb went back to my mouth. Maybe he could tell my body like that. He stroked my lips, other 4 fingers gently holding my cheek. His thumb pushed into my mouth, petting at my tongue, those shining eyes staring into mine. Parker started moving his thumb in and out of my mouth, making me suck his fingers. As much as I wanted to deny it, the feeling of his fingers between my lips made me blush, and I wriggled under him. His face was just so gorgeous, with that dark stubble.

 

Needless to say, I was more confused than ever.

 

I wanted Asher. I wanted Parker's affection and comfort. I didn't want to be fucked. Try telling that to my body. I was panting now, my tongue even sticking out to lick at the thumb in my mouth. I gave in for a second, sucking around the finger, letting out a soft whimper. My eyes fluttered shut as I bob for a moment, sucking off his finger.

 

"That's it," Parker whispered, pressing his finger deeper into my mouth. His other hand snuck down, gripping my semi-hard through my pants. This made my eyes fly open, and I realized once again what was happening. I couldn't let his soft words and bright eyes make up for the fact that he was trying to get inside me. I turned my head sharply to the side, shutting my mouth tight and closing my eyes.

 

"Give in to me," Parker muttered, leaning down to run his tongue up my ear. He bit my lobe, hard. I had a flashback to the locker room, when he bit my ear there, trying to blow me off. This wasn't the first time he tried to seduce me, to take me. I tensed up tight, all my muscles ridged, eyes shut tight. I felt the tears swell up. I didn't want to give in!

 

As his fingers snapped my pant's button open, there was a pounding at the door.

 

        --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

"Open up!" I pounded on the door of the small house, my muscles raging. Imagine my shock to look down and see my phone had been dead since practice. I nearly threw up when I plugged it in, instantly seeing 12 missed calls from Quincy. I frantically looked around for a key or an open window. I needed to get inside. With a moment of inspiration, I stepped back and peeled up the Welcome mat I had been standing on. Predictable. The key was sitting right there. Side note: Hide your keys better.

 

I tried to calm my shaking hands long enough to unlock the door. I pressed it open, instantly calling out for Quincy. The boy came down the hall, a look of panic and fear in his eyes. I was enraged. "Quincy!" I gasped as he threw himself into my arms, almost knocking me over. He burrowed himself into my chest, as if he was trying to hide in me. I through my arms around him, my large muscles pulled tight, worried I'd crush his ribs with how tightly I hugged him.

 

Now, where was that prick Parker? Prick Parker. I liked it.

 

My eyes narrowed he strolled down the hall, cool as ever. He leaned against the wall in his causal way, arms crossed over his chest. Rico Suave. I wish I had magic powers to make the wall suddenly disappear and watch him fall to the floor. "Hey," He said boredly, as if I had knocked on his door, selling cookies. The nerve of this guy! I would have punched him out right there, if it wasn't for the innocent trembling angel in my arms.

 

"Hey yourself. What the hell did you do to him?" My voice was low and violent. Adrenaline pumped through me, hair standing on edge. I knew what he had done. Quincy's shirt was all disheveled and his pants button was undone. My only concern was how far it had gone and how badly Quincy was hurt. The thin brunette clung to my side, face still hidden in my shirt. I could tell he wanted no part of this argument, so I just held him.

 

"What did I do to him?" Parker smirked some, those starry eyes laced with playfulness. "The kid came here after being kicked out of his house. You were apparently unavailable. So, I took care of him for you." I hated how calm his voice was. He wasn't even defending himself! Was he blind?! Did he not see what he had done to my Quincy?

 

"Took CARE of him?" I was fuming, raging emanating from every inch of my skin. "You scared the fuck out of him! What were you trying to do? Comfort him with your cock?" I was shouting loudly, spitting venom. I noticed though that the loud words startled Quincy, and I held him tenderly, lowering my voice. "If he was kicked out of his house," I continue, doing my best to control the volume of my voice, "You should know he's fragile and vulnerable right now, you self-centered asshole. Taking advantage of an emotionally compromised 17 year old? Yeah, you're really fuckin' cool."

 

"Oh, it was hardly taking advantage of," Parker smiled, still leaning against that damned wall. "You should have seen him, suckling on my thumb. He needed calming, and I-"

 

"Does he look calm to you?" This seemed to make Parker stop. He looked at Quincy, still clinging, still shaking. Unable to deny this question, Parker shrugged. He did, however, look away from us and out the window. What a smug jerk. "If I had half a mind, I'd kill you right here, but I have to take Quincy home now. Watch yourself."

 

As I turned and left, Parker seemed to drop the calm attitude. "Hey! I didn't rape him!" I smirked to myself, enjoying his sudden show of fear. It suited him. "You weren't there for him! I was! Quincy, tell him!"

 

Quincy stopped walking. He turned then, facing Parker. His eyes were red and puffy, but I could tell he was brave now. I hung back close to Quincy, ready to pounce if I needed to. "I… I just wanted a friend." His words made both Parker and me look down. He was so innocent, so truthful. His soft aura and angelic disposition made me warm and embarrassed, and I could tell Parker felt the same. Did Quincy know the power he had? "Just a friend," he repeated, wrapping his arms around himself.

 

I looked up, studying Parkers face. He was… hurt. He didn't want Quincy as a friend. I suddenly felt bad then. Parker was a selfish, horny jackass, but I could tell he wasn't a monster. He liked Quincy. I don't think he knew how to handle Quincy's tender innocence, though. He showed affection by kissing and fucking. I knew it stung his heart, hearing the words "just friends." Parker didn't mean to hurt Quincy.

 

Parker just didn't want to be alone.

 

Now, with a strange mixture of pity and anger (I mean, he still hurt Quincy either way!) I lead Quincy outside, leaving Parker in his house.

 

I had to man up now, for Quincy. I know I've been kind of a tool, all emotional and sketchy and weak. I loved Quincy, though, and I know I can be the man he needs me to be. I love him.

 

        --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

"Come over."

 

"It's 1:30 in the morning, Park!"

 

"Come over and fuck me."

 

"Be there in ten." I heard the click as he hung up. Ky was predicable like that. Just friends. What was Quincy thinking? He needs a real man, a calm man to show him what's out there. I sat on the couch, resting my head in my hands. I needed to get my mind off of the brunette. Had I really frightened him? I thought he was shaking from passion. I thought he wanted it. He was getting hard, for Christ's sake!

 

True to his words, there was a knock at the door within ten minutes. I shook myself, trying to snap out of it. I had called Ky over. I always did, when I was down like this. I mean, I guess I used him. But he didn't seem to complain.

 

I opened the door. "We don't have long," I said, looking at Ky. He had dark eyes and a shaved head, which only made his distinct cheek bones more profound. He was the bad boy, the mysterious bully. I was, I guess, prettier than him, in my tight pants and plaid shirt. He was more attractive in a rough way.

 

"Don't need long." He pushed me back against a nearby wall, slamming the door behind him. "Undress." Such a charmer. I swallowed hard for a moment, seeing the hunger in his eyes. I needed this, to dissociate, to be taken. I did as I was told, unbuttoning my shirt and tossing it aside. I kicked off my pants and underwear, feeling silly standing there naked in the hallway.

 

Ky stared at me for a moment before grabbing my shoulders and spinning me to face the wall. His hands were big and rough as he yanked my hips back and bent me over. I flattened my palms against the wall to brace myself, eyes closed tight. There would be no tenderness. I didn't want tenderness right now.

 

I heard his spit, followed by the feeling of one wet finger pressing into my tight ass. I winced, gnashing my teeth, legs shaking as I felt the tinge of pain run through me. "Still only me?" Ky asked, voice rough like sandpaper against my back.

 

"Of course. Like I'd let anyone else fuck me." That much was the truth. I always preferred being in charge, like with Quincy. Angelic boys always turned me on, and lord knows I'd fuck the daylights out of that swimmer, if he had let me. At times like this, though, I just wanted to be taken, to be used. Ky and I had always had this kind of rough fuck-n-leave relationship. He seemed to like it that way. I don't know, he struggled with emotions. We used to be best friends, before the bad thing happened to him. Now, we only really met when I was sad and needed the only person who could fuck me senseless.

 

Some people do drugs. Some people cut. Some people drink.

 

I get fucked.

 

He withdrew his finger within two minutes. He wasn't much for prepping me- he preferred me tight and uncomfortable. One hand gripped my hair. I didn't have shaggy hair like Ash or Quince, so there wasn't much to grip. What he did get a hold of, though, he yanked hard, snapping my head up. As much as I wanted to dissociate, he wanted me present.

 

I bit my lip to keep from crying out as he pressed into me. My body was shaking, my legs struggling to support my body. I saw flashes of red as he started thrusting, not taking time to let me adjust. Both his hands now grabbed my shoulders, using them for leverage, pulling me back against him as he thrust forward. He hard cock slammed hard against my ass, his pants around his ankles, me naked, being shoved against the wall with every thrust.

 

I closed my eyes and hung my head low, enjoying the now whiteness that swept over me. I felt the familiar feel of airy-ness, my body floating around, almost unaware of the nails down my back. It was nice, this feeling of light-headedness and escape. Like I said, everyone has their drug, their coping mechanism.

 

Ky, however, was never one to let me enjoy it for long. As much as he used me, he didn't like me using him. He leaned up and bit my ear hard. I had to admit, I learned that trick from him. It always brought my back to reality, and I gasped as my eyes flew open. "That's it, welcome back Park." Ky hissed in my ear. His thrusts had become slower, taking time to make sure I distinctly felt each inch of his cock as it pushed deep inside me.

 

"Faster," I begged softly, gasping as I braced myself against the wall, ass out. "I need you to go faster…"

 

Ky chuckled menacingly, reaching down and slapping my ass hard, the Smack! reverberatingoff the walls. I winced, turning my head to bit my arm. "And I need you to stay in the present, my little escape artist." Ky knew me more than anyone. We had grown up together, and I could never fool him. He knew all my tricks and twisted thoughts, never letting me get away with them.

 

"Don't-" I tensed as I felt his hard wrap around my semi-hard cock. I swear he only wanted to give me pleasure because he knew how much it affected me, how much it shook me to the core. He picked up his speed then, that dick of his drilling me in and out, in and out, the room filled with the smell of our sex and the sounds of our panting, as well as the slapping of his thighs against my red ass.

 

As he plowed my ass, he pumped my cock, forcing it to full hardness. I hated myself as the groan fell from my lips, followed by a chuckle from the boy behind me. He had power over me, and he enjoyed showing it. His fingers tightened around my cock, tugging at it with skill, his other hand gripping the back of my neck, holding my head down.

 

I couldn't help it. My body just felt so… hot, with his cock in me, with his hand around my hardness. "I'm…going to…" I didn't even have time to finish the sentence. He gave one rough through, slamming me against the wall, dick pressing further than ever inside me. He always knew what to do to push me over the edge. I cried out against my arm as I came, the white liquid spilling over his hand. I was on fire, my mind fuzzed with orgasm.

 

He pulled out, and I heard his stifled gasping as he came against my lower back, semen dripping down my hot, red ass cheeks. I stayed there, against that wall, legs shaking. There was a rustling as Ky pulled his pants up, heading towards the door.

 

He looked over his shoulder at me, naked and covered in cum. "Get cleaned up and get some sleep. It's almost two."

 

With that, Ky left, and I, satiated at last, crumbled to the floor.

Copyright © 2011 ChaseRose; All Rights Reserved.
Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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