Time to Move On

This is part of Samuel's story.

All characters are 18 or older. Let me know if you're interested by giving it some Stars and/or a comment to let me know what you think, enjoy.

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I lay in his arms, both of us with barely two hours of sleep. The night before had worn us both out. I would say I did more work than he did, but if I'm being honest, he did most of the work, and trust me, what Timothy did to me was a job well done.

While it was my first time having sex of any kind, it was Tim's first time with a guy, so in a way, we both lost our virginity. With the way Timmy worked me over, it was most definitely not his first time to have sex.

"Today is going to be hell," Timmy said with a sigh.

"You going to be alright?" I asked as I lay half on, half off of him.

My leg thrown over his, my foot caressing his as he lay on his back, propped up with the many pillows on my bed.

"I'm going to have to be. So, your tits are growing," I could hear the mischievousness in his voice, typical senior, I thought to myself.

"That's what the university doc says, so I guess they are," I replied in a soft tone, almost as if I were sharing a secret.

Not to be outdone my hand had gone from running my fingers through the hair over his tight muscular abs now down to holding his semi erect cock. It felt good in my hand; I knew if I kept stroking it even at a slow pace, it would get hard and I would have to do something about it.

The last thing I wanted was for Timmy to get the urge to fuck me one more time.

My cherry had been popped once and then battered most of the night before he finally let me go to sleep. It was beaten and bruised. The last thing I wanted was more of the same.

I let go of his cock and went back to his abs.

"I want you wearing a bra if they're going to grow more than they already are. I don't want anyone staring at your tits, they're mine now."

"Oh, are they?" I responded with a chuckle.

"Yes, and I'm giving you a pass. The next time you hold my cock be ready to give me some more pussy. Now, get up and start some coffee. I'm jumping in the shower."

And just like that, I was told what was what, and that's how my day began.

Tim had told me that he could not promise me anything. His father and brothers were who they were, and they weren't going to change for me or anyone else. A bunch of redneck homophobes is what they are.

But at least he did tell me that he cared too much for me to hurt me. He also told me that he was selfish and he wouldn't be able to handle knowing that I was with anyone else. Ever.

"I'm not going to apologize for that, Sam, that's just the way it is, and if you can't handle that, then maybe we should go our separate ways."

It had been early in the night when he whispered those words in my ear as he spooned me right after giving me the most intense orgasm that I'd ever experienced, all I could do was nod yes to him.

In fact, I didn't even digest all of what he said at the time that he said it. Maybe because I was trying to close my gaping hole so as not to allow his cum to drool out of me.

But now, as I hurried back to the bathroom wearing only his t-shirt after starting the coffee maker, it popped into my head. I was embarrassed because the minute I sat down on the toilet, I started passing air.

I thought I was having a bowel movement only to find out that I was just having a queef explosion and what I was passing was what was left of Timmy's three heavy loads of cum that he'd dumped into me.

I stood up and flushed the toilet just as he stepped out of the shower.

"You feel better," he asked with a devilish grin on his face that was peeking out from under the towel he was using to dry his hair.

"Shut up," I responded with an annoying look.

"I probably won't be here when you get out, but I'll catch you in study class."

With that said, he walked over to me kissed me, palmed my ass, slapped it, then walked away.

By the time I made it out of my room fully dressed and back into the kitchen for some caffeine, Timmy had already left.

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The night had been intense, but the week that followed was even more confusing.

On the one hand, Timmy declared his infinite desire to be with me. On the other hand, he could only be with me under certain conditions, and his family, brothers, and father could never discover our relationship.

He could be flirtatious with girls, for appearances' sake, or so he said.

I, on the other hand, had better not even look at another guy. I could not call him or text him, but whenever he came over to my house, he didn't want to deal with any negative vibes.

Such as my mother telling me that he's a piece of shit or me questioning the terms that he'd laid out for me. The only thing he wanted was for me to be ready to be made love to.

"Made love to? What a fucking joke," I told him after putting up with his rules for five days.

"Don't you mean be ready to fuck me? Cause that's all this is. You come over when you want to fuck me and I have nothing to say about anything ever?"

"No, babe, it's not like that," he tried to get me to believe him.

"It's exactly that, get out!" I screamed, I wasn't taking his bullshit and he knew it.

I was mad and had gotten up from my comfy chair in my room, starting to make my way towards the door. He jumped out of my bed and caught me before I could put my hand on the door knob.

He wrapped his muscular arms around me and held me in a vice. He began pleading in my ear, "Oh baby, please, don't be mad, oh baby, oh baby, yadda, yadda, yadda," what the fuck ever I thought to myself.

I don't know, I may have thrown in one too many "babies."

With each baby came an excuse for why I shouldn't be mad, followed by promises of better behavior, and I could set boundaries moving forward, except for his brothers and father. They couldn't find out about us.

Somehow, he calmed me down, and before I knew it, I was on my bed being stripped down and kissed and fondled and held and kissed, and fondled, then I let out a loud moan, Tim shoved a pillow into my face.

Tim had shoved his cock deep inside of me. The fucker had applied lube to his cock before coming inside because he knew he was going to fuck me! I could have made him stop.

But I didn't...

Tim had come over twice during the week. Once on Monday and again on Wednesday.

There was no way I was letting him fuck me on Monday. My poor little pussy, as he liked to call it, was bruised and battered. On Wednesday, I'd been working myself into a rage because of his behavior at school up to then.

I did suck his cock because I couldn't help myself and on Wednesday, I let him finger me which was annoying at first until he started massaging my prostate until he made me have another hard orgasm.

He said, "I read about it online and wanted to do it for you as soon as I read how to do it!"

Not going to lie, it was good.

But now, I was in bed on my side with one leg on the mattress and the other up against Tims chest with his cock buried in me balls deep. I couldn't stop him if I wanted to, and I didn't want to.

It turned out to be another night of constant fucking like the week before. Except this time, my mother was home and I had to be quiet.

No screaming or loud moaning. No squealing, nothing. Meanwhile Tim was fucking me hard all night and all that could be heard was his heavy breathing from pounding me all night.

He'd stop after filling me with cum and take a break. He'd spoon me and then his cock would get hard and next thing I knew he'd be slapping my ass which was my cue to position myself for his cock.

During our rest time, he'd whisper sweet nothings in my ear. Telling me how much I meant to him and how he wanted to be with me forever, if only his family understood, but he knew they never would.

I lay there completely exhausted, listening to him talk, but what he was saying wasn't what I was understanding.

I understood that we didn't have a chance at making this work because of his homophobic father and brothers. They would never accept us. But he'd do me the favor of fucking me non-stop on the downlow.

Yeah, ok...

There was one thing he said that surprised me. It surprised me that he would want it, and it surprised me that I agreed; I wanted it to.

He wanted me to dress as a girl.

That way if I ever came to visit him at his university I'd blend in as a girl and we could do shit in public like a normal couple. I liked hearing that. As for the other, it was all bullshit and I knew it.

At least when I woke up from our night of rampant sex, he was still in bed with me.

He hadn't run off in the early morning hours. I'd also lucked out that my mother had an early day at her job, which was odd for a Saturday morning for her.

We woke up and Tim wanted to fuck me one more time but I just couldn't so I gave him a blow job and that was what I had for breakfast. We showered, and he insisted that I make him breakfast before he left.

I guess he figured that he'd already fed me, now it was my turn to feed him, whatever.

When I finished cleaning up, he got his ass up and came over to me and proceeded to kiss and grope me. It was at that point that everything disgusted me. I may even have thrown up a little in my mouth.

I pushed him off me and told him that I couldn't. I don't know if his macho bullshit attitude was an act or if this was who he genuinely was. All I knew at that moment was that I'd heard enough.

He didn't seem to be bothered by my decision to throw him out, judging by his response.

"Whatever," he said. "I just wanted some ass. Good fucking luck finding someone as good as me to give a shit about you; fucking fag."

He turned and walked out, and when the door closed behind him, he drove off in his little muscle car. I didn't even cry. I was done with Timothy Bradshaw, and I was done with high school.