Where are you, little Bo?
I lift the hood of my jacket, zipping up the front and lifting the black bandana hanging around my neck as I take the shortcut to the cemetery through a sea of trees. My brother thankfully doesn't live anywhere too closely to where he works. He doesn't like to be easily followed or tracked down by angry family members who are ready to blame them for broken gravestones or not wanting to charge too much for loved ones to be buried or cremated when he's actually reasonably priced. What they don't get is he has to pay people too.
Shaking him from my mind, I move my head in every direction I can as I carefully step on the grass and sticks. Bugs buzz and zapp around me, owls hooting. Then there's a sound that doesn't belong to any animal or insect. It's loud mumbles and alert sounds from a phone. “Fuck,” the voice says. “I'm making too much noise. What am I even doing out here? This is how people get murdered?”
Smiling, I stay hidden behind the trees, stopping when I finally see the bright pink shirt he was wearing earlier. He really knows how to stand out everywhere. He should be careful with that. It's not always a good thing. Not when someone like me can easily find you. He looks down at his phone, shaking his head. “Is he even coming?”
I'm right here, little Bo.So close but also too far. I reach out my hand, retracting it when he looks behind him. The toe of my boot hits the bottom of the stump louder than I intend it too. He freezes and looks back again, the light of the moon not bright enough for me to make out his expression. His phone is pointed down and I can see his legs shaking.
“Hello? Someone there?” He moves past two large headstones, approaching the back of the building. “I don't know why I stopped here. Maybe because it felt like something I shouldn't do.”
Sighing he, let's out a loud huff. “Look at me out here talking to myself. Or am I?” His voice speaks. He enters under the carport where my brother parks the hearse, running a hand over the back. I take advantage of him looking ahead to catch up, ducking behind a statue of an angel I've hidden bodies under before. It's why there are so many out here.
“I should go,” he says under his breath, kicking his foot against the concrete. “This is crazy. What if this guy is some serial killer? What if he's only playing with me and not really coming?”
He sounds more worried about the second option than the first. He doesn't realize how perfect he is. He wants me to be dangerous. To be this big bad man who has the ability to hurt him at any given moment as long as it doesn't involve breaking his heart. Doesn't he know he should be careful what he wishes for?
I guess if he was careful, he would be making himself so damn vulnerable. I let out a low growl and he jumps, not looking back this time as he moves around the car. He runs a hand down the center of his body, lifting his shirt halfway before lightly stroking the buckle of his belt withhis fingers. A shiver runs through me as I picture those small, slender digits brushing over my cock while he stares up at me after losing himself on his knees at my command.
I'm going to come right here without even so much as a touch if I don't stop getting ahead of myself. How pathetic would that be? No one else gets me this way. I want to be angry like before but it's pointless. It's short lived with him. So are holding onto these brick walls. Never have I wanted someone to enter my world before. To have them know all of me. No one else deserved it. He's not like any of these men I've fooled around with. He's in his very own unique category. My marks don't like being hunted and I didn't realize how much I'd enjoy finding someone who did.
“You there?”
I swallow hard, my throat making a loud gaping sound and he lets out a small gasp, undoing his pants.
“Maybe you are, maybe you're not. Maybe…it's someone else entirely.” He runs his tongue over his bottom lip, standing under a small light, sliding his jeans down his pretty luscious thighs. They are the thickest part of him. Does he like being bit there? My cock aches when I envision blood dripping down his milky thighs. Will hurting him in a way that would make him scream and smile at the same time make him shine brighter?
Only time will tell.
He touches himself over his purple, cotton panties, the tight fabric tenting and I hate I can't get a better look. That I can't see if he's wet and leaking. I bet he is. My mouth salivates, my tongue suddenly feeling too big for my mouth.
He's going so slow, teasing me while also edging himself. He doesn't like coming too soon either, does he?
He never will from here on out. He drags it out longer when he knows he has an audience. Reaching into the front of his underwear, he bucks his hips, moaning softly.
“Anyone could walk out here, seeing me do this. Could be the person I'm waiting for or a complete stranger. Maybe the man who owns this place.”
Never have I ever thought about ending my brother's life until this second, anger burning through me at the thought of him seeing what's mine. I'd rip the eyes out of the sockets of any other man who dared to try in person. Over the computer or phone is one thing. I get my little Bo needs to make money. I'd be a hypocrite to be against what he did. At least his job is legal but is it really much safer than mine? It doesn't matter. He has me now. Which is both a good and a bad thing for him.
“Fuck,” he says, reaching deeper into his underwear, making me want to replace his hand with mine. “Someone's there, aren't they?” He rolls his hips. “I can hear you breathing.”
My breaths pick up and I grip the cement of the statue, it threatening to break beneath my tight hold.
“Can you see everything I’m doing? Have you watched me before?”
His underwear slowly slide to his knees before hitting his feet. He sits back on the hood of the car and kicks them off his ankles, spreading his legs as he lifts his knees. He breaches his hole, making wet, squelching sounds with his fingers. He prepped himself. He slides a finger in and out before adding a second, his other hand tightening around his cock. More desperate sounds echo around him and he thrusts upward, rocking between both hands while his body shakes. His strokes on his length gofrom fast to slow, his fingers thrusting out of rhythm. He stops, taking deep breaths and moves his hand from his hole to his nipples, squeezing them and making them glisten under the small blue light with the wetness from his fingers.
I want to suck on them. Taste him. My tongue sticks out involuntarily and I close my eyes, taking a shallow breath before opening them again. He's looking in my direction and I step out enough for him to see half of my covered face and body. Our eyes lock and he tugs at his piercings, one at a time, fucking into his hand and not looking away. We stay like this for a long time. Him performing for me and making himself feel as I watch. As I take in his vibrating form. Those lips turn up and his eyes glow and he tugs off his shirt before going back to fingering himself. It's the way he lifts himself up on his knees and starts rocking down on his hand that has me coming in my pants as I pretend he's riding my cock. His bare ass hits the hood of the car over and over, his sounds turning animalistic and as much as he wants to close his eyes as he gives into the pleasure erupting inside him, he keeps his eyes on me, coming hard and shaking.
His body goes slack minutes later and he finally shuts his eyes, his face falling forward as he catches his breath. I move out of sight when he looks up again. He keeps staring around, wrapping his arms around his shivering body. His teeth clack as a random gust of wind picks up. He slowly peels himself from the car and reaches for his clothes. He doesn't stop looking for me as he puts each piece back on, straightening himself before staring back at the mess he made.
He doesn't clean it. No, he smiles and leaves the evidence of what he did exactly where it is and as soon as he's back in his car, driving back home, I rub my face in it, licking up his come as I jerk myself through another orgasm. I lean over the car, lips tasting salty and a buzz running through me that's better than any I've ever felt taking someone's life. The vision of me watching him after slitting someone's throat and being covered in blood gives me the promise of a better high to look forward to.
Oh, little Bo, we are going to be the whole world to each other and no one else will exist whenever we do. No one else will matter. Nothing will. Only you and me.
Ten
Patrick