Hi guys, I know it's going to be easy to judge Matt in the following chapter. But if I may ask, give him a chance. In chapter #13, we will meet Thomas again, and Matt needs to make mistakes and pay for them in order for him to grow…

Your thoughts are, as always, welcome 🙂

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This story is part of Project Cheaters (2020)
Trigger warning for this and future chapters: BDSM, violence, cheating, seduction, turning gay, trauma, PTSD, consensual rough sex, bondage
All characters depicted in explicit scenes are consenting adults (18+).
Enjoy 😉

MATT

He looked taken aback. I just stood there, letting him decide.

“Sir?”

“It was a simple question, boy.” I had to smirk; this little guy was cute with his nervousness.

He looked at the hall behind him and then back at me. As he traveled with his eyes, checking me out, I straightened my back and broadened my shoulders. I am proud of my appearance, and the marks on my wrists and neck may be off-putting, but they at least give him some idea of what he would be in for.

He frowned and then spurted as if he hyped himself up: “Damn it! You know what? Yeah, I would love to come in.”

“Good,” I stepped aside and showed him in with my hand.

He walked by me and handed me my pizza.

“Here.”

“Right. Here, keep the change.” I had prepared the bills already and gave him only a few dollars as a tip. If I knew how this would turn out, I would give him more, but then he could get the wrong idea. So maybe it’s better to keep this separate from “tipping.”

“Would you like some?”

“Sir?” he blinked and looked a bit flustered now.

I had to chuckle. “I meant pizza, boy.”

“Right, no thanks. I eat them all the time. I am good.”

I put the box on the counter and opened it, took out a slice, and watched him as I ate. It was not that I was attracted to him, but something this weekend did to me was that it stirred many questions in my head.

Could I be free like that in sex with guys in general? This boy didn’t look that frail. Sure, he was probably young and not built like Thomas, but I didn’t think he was weak. A hole is a hole? I never thought about it like that, even I heard that expression, but now… I just chewed and thought about it.

It's been years since I let myself be aggressive. It was over a decade, and I had forgotten how good it felt to let go. When I had sex with women, I could never hurt them. I would feel like a monster, but that dormant greed for the pain I experienced when we were in barfights with guys lay there still, pushed down with my conscience and morality until Thomas woke it up in the most satisfying way. Could that be what sex with men is like? Do we all have deep aggression inside that begs us to be set free?

I could see the way he was looking at me. Call me close-minded, but I distinguish IMMENSELY between sexes. I was never the man thinking that both sexes are the same and are to be treated the same way. I agree that each woman can be, and sometimes is, smarter than some men. I agree they deserve the same rights as men as well as job and leadership opportunities. I am “feminist” in this regard, sure. We are in the twenty-first century, and I agree with a lot of progressive thinking. But I don’t believe men and women deal with emotions the same way, and physical attributes such as strength and endurance are greatly influenced by sex. I had many discussions in length about this with men and women, and I even survived one with Dora’s wife, which was intense as fuck, but still, it didn’t change my mind.

Now I saw this guy in front of me and thought. Could guys withstand the way I had sex with Thomas? I never thought of bringing aggression into sex. Never! With the way I see women, I could never go past some point, but with Thomas… I couldn’t believe I could have sex and fight simultaneously. I never felt this free…

He still stood there, traveling with his eyes on my body.

“Take off that cap, boy.”

He pulled it down slowly and put it in his pocket. He had nice features. Nothing too noticeable, nothing memorable, to be honest. Cute, young face.

“Jacket.”

He looked at me again. It was starting to bore me a little.

“I think it’s hot enough here. Do you need it?”

“No,” he opened the zip slowly and took it off his shoulders. He had a nice body. I watched him and knew that even if I would fuck him now, I wouldn’t recognize him on the street if I met him again.

“Can I ask what happened to you, sir?”

I looked at my wrist and smiled. “I tried something new.”

“How was it?”

I smirked and pierced him with my look. “Would you like to find out, boy?”

“I don’t know. Looks intimidating.”

“In what way, boy?” I smirked.

“Can I?” he pointed at my arm.

“Sure.” I watched him come closer, taking my hand and examining my wrist.

I took his hand and pulled him closer. He looked into my eyes and at my lips. I kept chewing. Did he want a kiss? Do I want to kiss him? Not really. No.

“What is your name, sir?”

I swallowed, wondering if I should tell him my real name, but I couldn’t be bothered anyway.

“Matt.”

He probably noticed I hadn’t asked him his name, and I was not going to. So, he just watched me for a few seconds. There was some weird tension within him. It confused me a little. Then without any warning, he kissed me. Not a shy peck as I would expect from him but a full-on assault on my lips. Okay. I can work with that.

I replied with the same aggression, but with him being half my size, figuratively speaking, I was destroying his lips, and soon I smacked him on that counter without any thought. He cried out in pain, but I just went to his neck and soon heard him moaning. I reached under his shirt and squeezed his nipple, hearing his hissing.

I guided his hand into my crotch. He took the hint and fondled my dick. I pressed with a second hand on his shoulder and pushed him down to his knees. Now, this looked better. I just watched him, waiting. He grabbed the hem of my pants, and I could feel his hands shaking slightly. I grabbed the sides of his head.

“Suck it, boy.”

He took the head in his mouth, and I felt him licking it and darting his tongue into my slit. It was nice, but not interesting enough, to be honest.

“Open up, boy. I am going to fuck that mouth.”

He did, and I rammed it in. Then, he started coughing and gagging, pushing me away.

“You will be fine, boy.” I went slower this time but without any remorse. Soon I could feel his throat squeezing around my cock.

I waited for how I would feel about it, but no fear for his life came, no hyperventilation or anxiety. Just the thought that he can take it. I knew this feeling was growing in me—the raging need for release. With the gang, we had this expression back then when we knew we would fight some group of men. We always chose those bigger, rougher, and we lived off that thrill of conquering them. Each of us beating out of them our own traumas, taking their punches in a frenzy, never afraid of pain. Adrenaline poisoning our veins, that’s what we used to call it. It was exactly like that now.

I was oblivious to what more was happening now to that boy under me. This was different than with Thomas…

I felt him pushing hard against my pelvis and bashing my leg with his fist. I pulled out, and he fell on the floor, coughing and crying.

“You okay, boy?”

“No! Get away from me!”

“What’s going on?” I growled.

He looked at me as if I was mad. I felt the rush, but something in his eyes stopped me. He was afraid of me. But now, after all those years I spent working on suppressing this side of me, it didn’t feel good. I was too aware now. I was scared of what I had done. I felt myself returning from that whirl in my head and felt anxiety growing. I stopped and took a deep breath.

What’s in front of me? I thought. Small, afraid boy!

Who’s behind me? Guys and everyone that loves me! Wake up, damn it!

I calmed down and looked at him again. My anxiety subsided slowly. I kneeled to him and took his face into my palms. He started shaking, and tears fell down his cheeks. There was undisputable fear in his eyes. What is going on? Was I that rough? I didn’t realize it at all. Yet he looked genuinely scared.

“Please let me go.”

I sat on the floor, pulled my pants up, took a fucking deep breath, and raised my hands.

“I am not going to hurt you, boy!”

He sat on the floor before me, leaning against the counter and breathing heavily. Just now, I started realizing the strength difference between us. How heavy could he be? 150-160lbs?

He coughed again and watched me in fear.

“I am sorry,” I said slowly.

I think he would bolt for the door if I wouldn’t be in the way. He looked at them quite a few times.

“Look, I have a rough day behind me. I think I laid that on you without realizing it. Are you okay?”

“No! What the fuck, man!”

The truth was I don’t even remember what I did. It wasn’t like Thomas. It was like those barfights all over again.

He started crying, like full-on sobbing. I don’t remember the last time I felt this uncomfortable. He spent a few minutes like that. I didn’t know what I should do.

He started talking incoherently in between sobs about some guy named Jack cheating on him, then me nearly raping him… Raping him? Did he seriously think I was raping him? It was hard to understand all he was saying.

I stood up and went for a glass of water.

“Here.”

I sat next to him. “I am sorry.”

He looked at me and, by now, calmed down a little.

“What’s your name, boy?”

“Damien.”

“I am sorry, Damien.” Honestly, I never felt so bad. There is a reason why I never let myself be like this with women. I always thought I would break them crying like this, and the thought alone was giving me chills. Then I met Thomas, and I could let loose for the first time in my life. I somehow thought that guys, in general, could take more. I told him about that, and he looked at me with a weird combination of pity and anger.

“Well, sorry to disappoint you, but no. Not all guys prefer to have their throats raped and feel like they will die!”

I just nodded. What have I done…?

We spend a couple of minutes sitting there. Then, after a while, Damien calmed down, and we ate my pizza there on the ground.

“I have never done anything like this.”

“Brought a pizza?”

He looked at me like that wasn’t at all funny. I just shrugged my shoulders.

“I just felt that I could get even.”

“To that, Jack?”

“Yeah… And I nearly got raped. How can I be so stupid?”

Right, why should you consider my feelings at all… keep talking, boy…

“What happened?”

He told me about Jack, and damn! That guy sounded like a prick. I didn’t like him, and I never even met him. They dated for over two years and lived together for one. Damien caught him with another guy in their bed, and that man had the guts to tell him it was his fault. It's not like I could moralize about cheating, but I could never turn it against Natasha like this. I still had difficulty figuring out how to deal with her as humanely as possible.

I don’t know why, probably because I felt terrible, but I kept talking with him and listening to his story. For some reason, I felt the need to show him I was not a monster, even though right now, I perceived myself to be one… Worse, I perceived myself as my father…

We spoke for a long time. I knew that if he wouldn’t start crying like that, I would definitely fuck him, and I wouldn’t do it gently. I had so much guilt in me that I just felt I owed him. Once I talked with him more, I was bathing in guilt. He was a genuinely nice and smart guy.

We were just talking about his college when the door opened, and Brandon came in. He stood frozen at the doorstep, looked at us both, and glanced at me meaningfully.

Damien turned to me with a quizzical look.

“Damien, that’s Brandon. This is his place. Brandon, this is Damien. He brought me a pizza.”

“Right.” Brandon looked perplexed at Damien, and I realized his hair was disheveled, his lips were swollen red, and his eyes were apparent he was crying. One could guess what we were doing. He looked like a mess.

“Are you two together?”

“No, Damien, I am straight.” Bran smiled at him.

“I am also straight, damn it!”

Both looked at me.

“Right, I am the one, not-sleeping-with-guys straight.” Brandon winked at Damien.

“Well, I should go.” He looked a bit confused as he was leaving.

Brandon stood there and closed the door after Damien left. “You should have let me know that you are about to score. I could go somewhere for coffee.”

“Shut up.”

“For real, man… Did you need to find out for real if you are into guys, or was he just too cute to resist? Is he at least legal?”

“He’s 24.”

“And how old are you? Just to be sure.”

“Same as you.”

“Right…”

“Did you get it all?” I reached for the bag in his hand.

He shook his head and handed it to me. “Here. Matt, are you okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“You are acting strange; it’s entertaining, but I can tell something is not right. Why was he crying?”

“He told me I nearly raped him.”

“Fuck… Did you?”

“I don’t know. It was like… at that moment, I didn’t think anything of it. Nothing stood out much to me. I was like… I don’t know, man….”

“Like it was natural for you?”

I looked at him.

“Man…”

“I didn’t think. I didn’t realize it until he cried and begged me to let him go. It was like I kept experiencing everything in segments.”

I sat on the couch, feeling weak. Am I really some kind of a monster? What would I do if …

“Like back then?”

I just nodded.

“Man… I am sorry.”

I felt my eyes water. Fuck.

“Was it like that with Thomas as well?”

“No…”

“With Natasha?”

“I would never do that to a woman, Brandon! I am too self-conscious when I sleep with any woman. What do you think of me? Even when I tried, I couldn’t bring myself to it.”

“So why now? After all this time?”

“I don’t know.”

That wasn’t true.

I didn’t want to say it out loud… I knew precisely why… I thought he could take it, and I didn’t care about him.

It was the same as when I yearned for a fight with someone. I used to watch him from across the place we would be in. He would look strong enough to bear my punches, intimidating enough to make my blood rush. Bran and the guys knew that look on my face, and they often tried to stop me, but I went into this state of mind when I needed it. My best luck was finding them and having them as my friends. They bared my moods and backed me up in fights I would die in if they weren’t there. Maybe, on some level, I wanted that. Fighter’s death. Same as father always said he wished. Could I ever forgive him?

“Matt?”

“What?”

“You were lost again.”

“I thought about dad.”

Brandon put his arm around my shoulder.

“You will be fine, buddy. I am here.”

I just nodded.

We sat like that in a calming and safe silence for a few minutes. I loved that about Bran. He could make fun of the worst situations, but he could be the oasis I could hide in when I needed space.

My phone rang. I went to look at it. It was Thomas.

“Yes?”

“Your fiancé just left.”

“What do you mean?”

“Natasha was here. She seemed worried.”

“Why was she there? She knows where I am.”

“She wanted to speak to me.”

“Right. Good for you. Is there something you wanted to talk about, or you just wanted to hear my voice?”

He was silent for a second and then chuckled. How I loved that sound… My lips curved a little.

“Bit of both.”

“So, you heard it. Now, what did you want to tell me?”

He filled me up on his conversation with Natasha, how he just told her pretty much what I’d written in my email about our “business trip” when she asked him where we had been. Did this pragmatic man call me to tell me all these unnecessary things?

“Right.”

“She was actually nice. She then asked if I knew why you took that week off.”

“What did you tell her?”

“Truth.”

“What truth?”

“That it was a shock to all of us, and Roger is seriously freaking out. He came four times today to ask if I have any news about you.”

“Great… You know what… Tell him I will be working from here.”

“Okay, I will.”

“This brings me to the next topic. You have your laptop here.”

Right, I dealt with that email over the weekend. I smirked, thinking about the “work” I did on his bed while I was tied up and teased to the point of madness. I smirked at that memory.

“You forgot to throw that on the pavement, did you?”

“You wouldn’t have that problem if you hadn’t crossed the line.”

“Where is it?”

“Here, in your office.”

“I am not going there. I will send you the address. Bring it to me there tomorrow.”

“Very well.”

“Okay, is that enough of my voice for now? I want to deal with a few things here.”

“Anything I can help with?”

“I thought we had deal only for a specified period of time.”

He got quiet.

“I see. Then I will see you tomorrow.”

Did he just sound annoyed or hurt? I can’t deal with this now.

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>> Chapter 13 – Suits and Shirts

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This story is part of a larger collection of stories set in the same city, at the same time, happening to a group of friends and acquaintances.

Each story is a standalone storyline, but some side characters may have their own story either in this project or my other.

Feel free to check out my profile or Patreon page for more content.

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