“Louis are you coming to my party?” It was my mother’s voice in the answering machine that finally woke me up “You better come, boy. I'm tired of your absences. Call me.”
The line disconnected.
I sighed as I opened my eyes. I preferred dreaming rather than the harsh solitude that awaited me when my opened her eyes.
I looked at the teddy bear I slept with. A gift my mom had given me when I moved away with my father.
“Something to keep away the nightmares” she had said sadly.
I had just started high school and could have made my own choice, but my father needed me or so I had thought. Now I wasn't sure if my father needed me or just wanted to control me.
“Louis, are you awake?” my father called from downstairs.
I had installed my own telephone line as soon as I finished high school and had transferred my room upstairs where my father rarely went.
“Yes dad, I’m awake” I yelled sitting up, It’s Saturday for the love of god. I have the right to sleep in. I could already imagine the expression on my father's face if he knew that my mother's call was the one that woke me up.
Resigned, I stood up and went to take a shower.
Johannah Deakin didn’t stay at home, nor did she have regular schedules. My Mom owned a national electronic corporation and live her life how she wanted. She attended charity and organized parties. Instead Mark, prefered her cars, his tranquility and everything that didn’t involve a woman and he had done everything possible to lead me along the same path.
I really hated parties. I always had and I knew I always would. I always ended up going to parties alone and I always left them alone. I have bad luck with the parties. I have bad luck with men too, I have had it for years. But I was forced to go to this party. I had promised it.
I made a face while I considered my lack of love and sex life. I wasn’t a great believer of love or the ‘they lived a happily ever after’. I rarely saw that working. My own parents were an example of that. And my mom’s second marriage looked more unstable than solid.
My mom had been married with Daniel for three years. Of course the man had 53 years, ten more than my mother. I could barely tolerate being in the same room with him. Also there was Harry Styles, Dan’s half-brother, who, my mom swears had taken Deakin Electronics, my mother’s company, to the financial state it now enjoyed, being one of the leading electronics manufacturers.
Thinking of him caused me mixed emotions.
Harry was 6′0″ of hard muscle and handsomeness, with a cynical, mocking attitude that drove me crazy. His kisses were what dreams were made of; his fingers were evil instruments of tormenting pleasure, his lips were able to hypnotize me when they touched me.
At the thought of that I suppressed a sigh, no one kissed better than Harry Styles. It should be a crime for a man to exude so much sex appeal, and be so stupid. And what was really a crime was that I couldn’t forget that one stolen kiss so I could enjoy any other.
I had promised my mom that I would stay with her this week. That I would take my work free time and go back to the big house I had grown up in before my parents divorced, and try to be her son.
Not that I didn’t want to.
I did. I loved my mom terribly, but Harry was in the house. He stayed there a lot and it was him I needed to avoid
After packing the informal clothes I would need and I looked at my closet to choose what was I going to wear to the Annual Valentine's Day party that my mother would throw. It was also the third anniversary of his marriage with Dan.
I took a black tux from the wardrobe and hung it from the doorknob. The dark color matched my mood. Valentine's Day was for lovers, and I didn’t had one.
Thinking it better, my mom wouldn’t miss me. The house was going to be crowded. She didn’t need me there; I hadn’t attended any of Dan’s parties in almost a year. They were noisy, rowdy and often a bit wild for my taste. Also, Harry always ended up making me angry during the first hour of the party.
His green eyes would look at me, cynically languid, always shining with interest.
I sighed, I probably had a silly smile. After that first kiss… His body kept me against the wall while whispering what he wanted in my ear. My body agreed. My mind, disturbed by the images, had entered the scene with an instant defense.
It had been around two years since I last saw him.
I sat on the bed still naked, my cock hard, throbbing with the memory.
“Can you handle it, baby boy?” He whispered to me, holding me against the wall as he pushed his cock against mine “I'm not going to lie to you Louis. I want you too much, but I’m not one of your students that you can boss around. I want you tied to my bed, screaming, begging for me. I want to pump my cock in that little, tight ass of yours, I want to hear you screaming while I’m inside you”
I trembled at the memory of the excitement and the hot and desperate need.
“Sure” I answered slyly “And then I can do the same with your ass!”
Harry had dared to laugh at me. Laugh at me while his fingers dipped in the front of my pants to grab my cock and my orgasm rippled over my body. I gasped, feeling the slippery heat wetting his fingers. Then he had caressed the small, tight hole he had promised to enter, sending a flare of pleasure to my body that I had enjoyed too much to be comfortable with.
I remember my fear, throbbing as hot as my lust. And Harry had watched me, his thick, hard member inside his pants, his eyes dark as I passed in front of him shivering.
“I'm not gay” I barked at him
His lips trembled and his eyes flared with anger.
“You aren't?” He asked “What does this make you, baby? Because sooner or later you’ll have to admit that you want this”
“Want what? You raping me?” I hissed
His eyes suddenly softened, a strange smile appearing on his lips.
“Never rape, Louis. You’ll beg for it. Because we both know that you want it as much as I do. My cock sliding in your tight butt while you yell at me to stop, then yell at me to never stop. You’re mine, Louis and I know how to give you what you need. When you are ready to accept it, let me know.” Harry said to me, staring at my eyes mercilessly.
I shook my head. Wishing and accepting were two different things.
I had dreamed about it ever since, too humiliated to ask, and he refused to offer it a second time.