Page 24 of Darling

So, like, being gay saved my life.Pornsaved my life. It sounds dramatic as fuck, I know, but it’s true. Because I’d have died if I’d stayed there.

Being gay was the reason I left that place. It wasn’t the canings (which came when we strayed from God’s path), or the brainwashing (which came regardless), it wasn’t the two barely nutritional meals a day (to keep us tired and weak and stupid), it wasn’t the hours of manual labour inflicted on us since we were old enough to stand. It was the fact that I wanted to get fucked—well and often, as Christian would say—by men. And for God, for His Humble Messengers, for Jeremiah and my mother, and for me, that was a non-negotiable.

I met that porn star, the top who was pounding the bottom like it was his only reason for living. I did a scene with him, actually (ironically, it was some Mormon set-up where I played some wayward boy of the flock in need of some punishment), and I told him all this. He stared at me like I was insane for a whole minute before telling me to hit him up if I ever needed anything at all. Nicest guy I’d ever met. Then he pounded me good and hard for an hour on camera.

Anyway, I digress. What I’m trying to highlight here are these moments; moments relating to my attraction to men, and my desire for men that shift something inside me so that they become huge existential moments, fundamental to the core of my person in some way, and that porn scene on that kid’s phonewas one of them.

This is another.

Christian Darling, Ambassador to the United States, naked and hard in my bed, looking at me like I’m a five-course meal and he hasn’t eaten in weeks. I don’t know what it is about this guy; I’ve honestly been trying to figure it out for weeks now. He’s all the things I said he was on the phone that night: calm and steady, relaxing to be around. But what I didn’t say on the phone, what I’m not sure I ever can say—not to him, anyway—is that he makes me feel things I don’t quite understand yet. He makes me feel like maybe I could have a home somewhere again, like maybe I wouldn’t mind being in love and devoted to something again. Something that, despite what it preached, wasn’t hard and didn’t want to keep me down; it was soft. It wanted to lift me up.

“I’m sure I said ass up,” he says. I’m lying on my back, propped up on my elbows, watching as he peels away his layers. I give him a small pout.

“Let me enjoy the show first, please.”

“Alright,” he says. “Since you asked so nicely.” When he’s naked but for black Calvins with a red waistband, I give a slow, deliberate lick of my lips as I take him in. He’s in good shape, not a total gym bro like a lot of the guys I’ve been with, but it’s clear he looks after his body and eats well. He has dark hair over his chest and abdomen, the tops of his thighs and down his legs. It’s something I’ve always liked on guys I’m fucking, being naturally smooth myself.

“You’re really fucking hot,” I tell him. His mouth quirks, but it fades almost immediately before he’s gesturing with his fingers for me to turn over. I do as I’m told, flipping over and coming up on all fours to display myself for him. The bed dips as he climbs on, and then I feel the heat of him against the backs of my thighs,arms coming under and around my body to lift me up and pull me to his chest. His fingers smooth over my stomach and travel the valleys of my ribs to my hips, and then he slips one hand between us to play with my ass. My hole is so fucking sensitive, my nipples too, where his other hand is, and when he sucks a kiss into my neck, I shiver all over. He whispers in my ear as he plays with me, saying things like ‘so soft, so beautiful, so perfect’ until I’m hard and leaking in my underwear.

“Fuck, Christian… please,” I pant, looking over my shoulder. “Can you just put your dick in me?”

His hands stop moving and he gives me a stern look, which, fuck me, I feel behind my balls.

“Please, daddy,” I try.

Softening his expression, he pushes me gently forward onto my hands and knees and begins to pull down my jock. When it’s halfway, he stops, runs a hand over my hole again, and makes a low noise.

“Such a perfect little hole,” he remarks. My eyes roll back in bliss as he shoves the blunt head of his finger inside it without warning. I try to fuck myself on it, but he quickly removes it and leaves me like that, ass arched out as I fist the sheets. When I look over my shoulder, he’s just… looking at it. Mesmerised. I feel so fucking exposed, so bare, so turned on. Desperate, I reach back, managing to get my own finger just inside before he gently removes it and pulls my underwear the rest of the way off. It allows me to spread my legs, which I do as I arch my back nice and low for him, and then his hot, hungry mouth is on my hole. It feels fucking incredible. Divine.

“You’re tighter than last time,” he murmurs.

I gasp. “I haven’t been fucked in over two weeks.”

“You don’t use your own hand?”

“Um, yeah, most days,” I admit. “But that’s not the same…”

“Most days,” he says as he circles it with the pad of his finger. “Such a needy little whore.”

Fuck. I groan out. Something abouthimtalking to me like this is just… well, a lot to handle. He turns me on harder and faster than anyone I’ve ever met, or fucked, or been fucked by.

“I am,” I pant. “I’m a needy whore, daddy.”

“Abeautifulneedy whore.”

I groan in response as his tongue flicks over me again. He’s good at this, really good.

“Say it,” he says. “Tell me how beautiful you are.”

It takes me out of the moment a little, but I go with it. “I’m beautiful.”

He hums in agreement. “Yes, darling, you are…” And then his tongue is on my ass again, and I’m fucking his face like the beautiful, needy whore I am. When I beg him again, he stops, moving up the bed to lie with his head on the pillow, body spread out like a platter on the white sheets. I turn so my head is at his dick and I’m on it immediately, kissing and sucking at it through his underwear. “Take them off for me,” he says.

Christian probably has the thickest cock I’ve ever had. That first night when it had been in my mouth, it stretched my jaw so wide that it hurt the next day. I’d thought it had been partly down to my enthusiasm, that maybe it wasn’t that thick at all. But it’s hard to miss as it lies there against his furred stomach. I pick it up and let it drop back against his body to hear the smack of heavy flesh, then I do it again before bringing it to my lips. I eye him as I do it, watching his lips round into an ‘o’ as I cover the head and suckle it, flicking my tongue over the slit a few times, slurping up the salty precum streaming from it.

“Mmmm, I really love your cock,” I say as I study it. “It’s going to feel so fucking good inside me…”

“I hope so, sweetheart…” he says as he watches me go to townon his dick again. As I do, he strokes and caresses my hair, my ear, my jaw. As I take him to the back of my throat and hold him there, his whole body seizes, and he grabs my chin and pulls me up and onto his chest to kiss me. He seems to like tasting himself on my mouth because he licks and sucks at my tongue in long, greedy motions. His heart is beating so hard, the strident thump of it in the space between us. “Condoms are in the nightstand,” I say against his mouth.