This isn't love, it's just mindless f**king.
On with the story...
This isn't love, it's just mindless fucking.
The way his dick moves in and out, the way his hot, quick breath falls on my sweaty skin, the way my name falls from his lips in breathy moans. "Oh, God, Frank!"
This isn't love, it's just sexual curiosity.
Being with another man is a lot more satisfying than I thought it would be. Fucking someone with a flat chest, amore muscular body and a dick has made me moan more and louder than ever before. "Ugh...Gerard." I breathe, smiling at the way the bed springs squeak with every thrust.
This isn't love, it's just senseless pleasure.
It feels amazing, so why not do it? He's aguy, I like guys, I'm horny, so is he...why the hell not? His scent fills my nostrils; it's a mix of sweat, cigarettes and vaguely of deodorant, I guess that I smell similar.
This isn't love, it's just meaningless sex.
I love having Gerard's big, hard cock in me, feeling it fill me up inside and hit my prostate with every thrust. I keep going to him and he keeps coming to me and this may sound lame, but we keep coming together. We've done this so many times before that our orgasms are simultaneous. We know just how to make the other one that much closer to their climax, and now it's a little easier to hold back until we're sure the other one's gonna orgasm at the same time.
But it doesn't mean that this is love, it's still just heated lust.
My hands grip his shoulders as his fingers dig into my sides. His hips rock and his dick pumps in and out of me, making me whimper. A bead of sweat runs down his face and drips onto my chest, mixing with my own, but I don't care. Any of his bodily fluids can drip on me and as long as he's doing what he's doing, I don't give a fuck. Although, saying that...
This isn't love, it's just compassionate sympathy.
A tear falls from his eye and runs down his face, leaving a glistening trail down his pale skin before it fell on my bare neck. "What's wrong?" I ask in a whisper, wiping the tear away from his face as I prop myself up on my elbow, looking into his sparkling eyes above me.
"It-it's nothing. Don't worry about it." He mumbles, taking a deep breath to steady his breathing. He flashes me a fake smile and lowers his face into my neck, his lips latching onto my skin immediately and I feel bad.
I push him away and hold both sides of his face. "What's wrong?" I ask again.
He hesitates. "It's not fair that I load all my problems onto-"
"Tell me." I interrupt.
He sighs. "Just...the cologne you're wearing...it reminds me of my old roommate." He shrugs. "Every morning he used to wake me up with the smell of this cologne. It was comforting after a while. He was my best friend and smelling that would always make me smile, knowing that he was there." I sit up a little more and my eyebrows pull closer together.
"What...happened to him?"
His muscles tense and his eyes fill with tears once more. "He was killed." He swallows. My lips part. "They thought he was gay...just cause I was and he was living with me."
"Shit, that's horrible." I breathe.
He looks back up at me and his face is once again pulled up in a fake smile. "It's in the past." He breathes.
I wrap my arms around him and kiss the top of his head. All of the sudden I don't feel very horny. I feel as if I want to comfort Gerard.
It isn't love, it's just human kindness.
We're happy, we've just had hot, heated, passionate sex and now we're laid in each other's arms, enjoying the body heat that is being transferred between us. I look up at him, a smile tugging at my lips because of how amazing he is. My heart thumps a little quicker in my chest and my breathing hitches in my throat. He's beautiful. I want to stay here in his arms all night and all of the next day and the next and the next, I never want to be away from him. I want him to hold me and kiss me and fuck me forever and ever and this is when I realize...
This is love.
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