Lust and Loyalty (MM)

CROSSCyrus Sinclair.The one. The only. The legend.Who else would arrive late to the soccer game for his own team and stride in like a boss with lipstick on his left cheek and corner of his mouth?The blonde walking out of the tunnel where Cyrus emerged, staggered in her steps. She fixed her mini skirt and finger-combed her hair, blushing from the embarrassment and looking around if anyone else would notice what was already written all over her.Must be one hell of an orgasm.I moved my camera to take a picture of the cocky man running into the field now after substitutions were announced a while ago. So far, he has made no attempts to wipe the blonde's claim off the side of his mouth.He wore their lipstick like a conquest for all to see. Boys his age still saw sex as a trophy and loved to add to their numbers like it was a resume for a future job application.What was I saying? He was a boy my age yet his body count was triple my age, I could bet his manhood on it.The crowd cheer

CROSSI've always had a problem with touching my own dick.Why?It felt gay and I was far from gay. I was so straight that strippers would barely even think to twirl on my pole. I was so straight that even bumping shoulders with a man was avoided by all means. I was so straight that a little voice at the back of my head had to remind me that Cyrus was choking me to kill me and nothing pleasurable was happening.Fuck!"I'm sorry, what?" The pain in my nose ceased as all my attention was suddenly focused on his ridiculous words. Did I hear that right or was I half way into passing out?That was one powerful punch he packed there and I just knew my nose was broken. Great! How would I explain to my mother that I slammed into a tree on my way home?"Stroke what?" I asked again, staring at Cyrus in disbelief. The man was glowing like he just stepped out of a river of gold mixed with dust of the sun. Just like the other night, his body was enchanting, mesmerising and enticing.It didn't take

CROSSDays rolled by slowly yet that faithful night never left my mind nor my dreams. I woke up every middle of the night with an overwhelming amount of lust that made me shiver, moan and clench my fist in an attempt to stop myself from grabbing my dick.I was horny. If there was any word that was higher than that, I was it.My body remembered every detail down to the hard press against my back. Fuck! Cyrus was ruining my life and it was only the third day!I woke up to a raging boner, my dick pulsing and aching with the need to slam into anything and fuck hard-- actually no, I wanted to be fucked. To be bent over and thoroughly rammed into by that fucker!"God, what is wrong with me?" I ran a finger through my hair and pulled out a drawer where the photo sat. I've stared at it a lot of times and I've lost count, burned the picture in my brain that sometimes I could make out his figure in the dead of the night.He assaulted me. Ripped me of my dignity and rough handled my dick to the