A gay story: My Little Rose Ch. 00: Prologue Prologue.
At twenty nine years old, I ran three jobs. I owned an alternative clothing shop on the high street, which was more of a hobby since it didn’t make much money. I was a lecturer at Strathclyde university in Philosophical Studies and Human Biology, and I worked in an adult library. It wasn’t intended as an LGBT library, but it soon developed in to one since at least 90% of our customers fell into those labels.
On the sweet Saturday morning, I was sitting at my desk at the library. It was a quiet day and that allowed me the time to write my new horror novel. I heard a soft ‘ahem’ from in front of me and hastily looked up, unaware there had been a customer standing there.
The customer was a boy in his mid twenties wearing a red shirt depicting several different shades of flowers. They looked like roses but I was unsure., and they swirled around the boy’s lean torso in a beautiful pattern. The boys face was thin but not as thin as mine, and he had long ginger hair which reached his elbows. He hand enchanting chartreuse eyes that made me regret wearing leather jeans. I blinked at his soft pout.
“I’ve been waiting ages, you know,” he chastised.
“Um…sorry…” I replied, mesmerised by the beauty in front of me. I realised the red nips were showing around my elbows, and I quickly hid my frail arms under the desk.
“How can I help you?” I asked, in a stammering voice.
“I’m looking for something on seduction. There’s a man I want who is so cold, he doesn’t even notice me!”
How anyone could miss this flamboyant boy was a mystery to me. I would have thought any man would give his life for such a beautiful face to wake up to in the morning. I pictured the boy all tousled and giving me a soft smile waking up in the same bed after a night of passionate love. I shook my head at the thought.
“I’ll see if we have something for you…”
“Garland,” he explained “my name is Garland,”
I nodded.
“Garland. Cute name. I’m Izaac,”
He blushed at my statement, and I shrugged a hoodie on and led him to the back shelf. I indicated to a section of about five books, two of which I had written years ago. I was rather well known for my horror novels, but I dabbled in erotic writing. My publisher hated it.
“You’ll find everything here, even I don’t think you’ll need it,” I commented. He gave me a quizzical look.
“What do you mean? I keep getting rejected!”
I twirled my fingers through a long lock of his hair. He stared at my hand then at me. I gave a devious smile, bearing my teeth. Not the prettiest sight, but I wasn’t unattractive.
“Maybe whoever rejects you just doesn’t know a good thing when it comes along,” his cheeks reddened.
“If you want to forget about being rejected by those losers, follow me,”
I walked as gracefully as I could -not very graceful considering how medicated I was- over to an unmarked side door. It had no handle on the front, and was reserved for employees who wanted some special playtime with selected customers. I opened to door and smiled, begging him with my eyes to go inside. He obliged and I shut the door, locking it from the inside. I turned the dial on the dimmer switch to give a small amount of light- I wanted to see that sweet body as I fucked it. The boy gasped in awe and possible arousal. He spread his body on the bed which we had sterilised every day. He ran his hand up his torso showing me his toned stomach with the wonderful pale, untouched flesh.
I almost tore off my own shirt in frustration and haste. I was of a very lean build with flesh not pale, but gleaming white. Scars ran up my sides and my collarbones and my ribs protruded, which Garland began to rake his nails along. He then contorted onto his stomach, one leg dangling in the air.
“Your call Mr Bookworm, claim me as yours,” he smirked. I lay above him and began trailing butterfly kisses down his neck, removing my blade from my trouser pants and tearing his shirt in half. In the heat of the moment, it seemed he didn’t mind. The soft material fell from his shoulders leaving me the opportunity to lick and nip his areoles. This incited a wonderful gasp and moan from the boy.
My tongue continued to trail down Garland’s abdomen and down to his pubic region. He didn’t shave or trim, it seemed. I giggled, teasing his cock by twirling my tongue around the tip, making his hips roll. His member was already pulsing, with a shiny bead of précis appearing at the shaft. No way was he getting release. Continuing to tease him, I outstretched my arm to his mouth.
“Suck on my fingers and make them wet,” I ordered. He did so and I felt his warm mouth around two of my fingers. I then flipped the boy over and trailed my index down his back.
“You better be ready for this kid,” I snarled, and unyieldingly shoved my fingers into his tight hole.
“Mmmm you’re a virgin,” I observed. I twirled my fingers to prepare him, as he gasped from every movement I made. I withdrew them and noticed he was clean, so no condom needed.
Garland closed his eyes in anticipation as he felt my hot length pressed against his right rosebud. I pushed in and he began to cry from the intense sensation, but I was relentless, his hole tightened from the spasms he was having. I pushed in to the hilt, and slowly and methodically fucked him with my huge cock. His body was writhing in the most amusing ways and I raked my fingernails down his toned body. I found his nipples and twisted them, making him yell even louder. I began to groan and shake, and I grabbed Garland’s hips and my strokes became faster, and I plunged in as my thick sticky seen erupted into his asshole. I let slip a loud moan and I felt the warm body shudder beneath me as he had his own climax.
I pulled out and rolled off him, panting and letting myself overcome the wonderful bliss which had clouded my mind. I made to sit up and looked over to see Garland passed out, panting and his face flushing redder than his hair. I zipped my fly back up and wrote a notice for the bed to be washed. I decided to leave him sleeping and returned to my desk, my shirt and hoodie under my arm.
Twenty or so minutes later, Garland poked his head out the door. It was devoid of anyone but me, so he crept out, covering his bare chest with his hands. It amused me greatly. Seeing me, he stomped over feigning rage.
“Hoodie. Now!” He huffed.
“What?” I asked “no way, why should I give this to you?!”
“Cause you ruined my shirt!” He retorted. I saw his reasoning.
“And…” He smirked “it gives me an excuse to come back and see you,”‘
I saw mischief in his devilish eyes, and handed the hoodie over.
Over the next weeks, he visited me again several times, though he was always in a hurry, so we never had any more fun. I was invited to several of his social engagements and eventually met the man he was pining over and trying oh so hard to seduce- one Hakaryu Kajiya, a stone faced workaholic with an absolutely dire sense of humour. Whenever he was rejected by said workaholic, he’d take refuge in my store. I was always as polite as possible, and treated him like a gentlemen, after all he was the best fuck I’d ever had. You didn’t pass the opportunity to fuck that body again.
End.