In the aftermath of his first time with Takamiya, Izumi explores his feelings. Sex. Aspects of non-con implied. Characters belong to Shimizu Yuki, not to me. Characters: Takamiya and Izumi
Home alone, with no distractions to take his mind off recent events, Izumi found himself lying in bed thinking of Takamiya again. He tried not to, but intimate memories of the man made him impossible to forget. The liquid hazel eyes, the cologne he wore, the texture of his skin, the taste of his tongue, the way a smile lit up his face, above all, his smile, that honest, open smile, Izumi just couldn't forget. He sighed even as he thought, "Takamiya seemed like such a nice guy, then he went and did...that...to me."
"That" was a thought so horrendous that Izumi could not bring himself to put words to it at the moment though the visual was burned forever onto the retina of his mind's eye. Legs up, that scary painful feeling, an invasion of his very most private self...
Izumi inhaled sharply as he relived the moment, closed his eyes and rubbed his burning face.
"He raped me," he whispered in the empty room.
The day had started out innocently enough with the fun of riding horseback, then the fine food at that wonderful restaurant, and the delicious drinks.
Takamiya had been so nice that he easily won Izumi's trust and then--
Izumi sat bolt upright in bed at the memory of how he'd been seduced and shouted out to the walls of the bedroom, " I hate him! He raped me! I hate him! I hate him! I hate him!"
With the image of the man who did "that" to him fresh in his mind , he sank back onto the bedclothes with a sigh.
Izumi had liked him. Takamiya's open smile, bright personality, looks, generosity, even his nice manners with the wait staff at that ritzy eatery-- "You can't really fake stuff like that, can you?" Izumi thought. "He really seemed to be a great guy."
But then he had done "that" to Izumi. It was so shameful and there was nothing that could be done about it now.
"I suppose he really was just a lonely homo who called a date club so he could get laid and I was just the wrong Izumi in the wrong place at the wrong time"
Looking back on how Takamiya had acted when he called the Blue Boy Club and found he'd "dated" the wrong Izumi, the shocked silence, the slumped defeated shoulders, the pained admission that he could never make up for the enormity of what he'd done, Takamiya had looked abjectly sorry.
"You can't fake reactions like that either," thought Izumi. He was now glumly sure that Takamiya hadn't planned to rape him, but if it wasn't rape, then it wasn't Takamiya's fault, and it just had to be Takamiya's fault because otherwise--Izumi tried to block the thought that he had repressed since that night.
"He might not have meant to do it, but it doesn't change what he did to me. If it wasn't rape, what was it and who is to blame?"
Izumi was the victim in this, wasn't he?
Tears welled up in his eyes.
Someone else had to take the blame.
"It can't be my fault. It can't be, can it?"
Tears spilled over and rolled down his cheeks, blinding him.
He feared he had found the truth and wept until the emotional storm passed.
Some minutes later he found himself looking for answers to questions that troubled and confused him.
"Why didn't I tell him to stop? Why didn't I make him stop?" he asked in the empty silence of his the bedroom.
"I'm small but I'm strong. I was a little drunk, but not that drunk. I could have fought and kicked him off. Why did I just lie there and let it happen?"
He wanted to push the memory down so deep it would never come up again, but it did with a surge of feeling in his groin as images filled his head.
After they came back from the restaurant, to a warm quiet room he only dimly remembered, he had plumped back on a soft mattress with the feeling of floating.
"Feels good," he mumbled and drifted into a dream in which he groaned with pleasure from the feel of a hot wet kiss. He opened his lips to answer it and woke, startled, to find Takamiya's moist soft tongue slipping in and out of his mouth.
"A man. I'm kissing a man. This is wrong," Izumi thought even as sensation tingled when Takamiya's tongue trailed hot down his chest, looping the raised nub of his nipple then, then slid lower to suck and lick his penis.
"This is all wrong," the thought came again. "I'm naked?"
Izumi knew it was wrong. He had to speak up.
"What are you doing?"
There was no response as the man's mouth was full.
"Why am I naked?"
The suction of Takamiya's mouth on him made him gasp and strain to catch his breath.
"Wait a minute...stop..." he said, but the tongue kept licking, the lips sliding up and down his shaft, and he began to wonder if had he actually spoken the words or only thought them.
For there were gaps--gasps between the words, like punctuation in a slow-motion dream. The only thing that was real was the head buried in his lap. The action of the man's mouth on those shameful, shameful parts, made Izumi feel like he was burning up. He felt so hot, too hot, his cheeks flushed crimson red.
"Ah! Get off...Get off me!" He'd said that for sure. For sure, he remembered speaking those words, "Get off me!"
Or had he said, "Get me off. Get me off!"
He didn't know anything for sure anymore.
Trembling under Takamiya's tongue, what he wanted, what he really wanted...wasn't it to get off?
And after all was said and done, that was what happened that night.
Despite his protestations, though he weakly mumbled "Stop...no way," the eager reaction of his body that night denied the truth of those words, even as the beads of moisture now leaking from the tip of his erect penis betrayed him as he remembered the sharp gush of pleasure and shame, "I can't believe I came in his mouth."
He blushed as he remembered the taste of himself on Takamiya's tongue.
"I can't believe I let him kiss me again, but...and when he put his fingers in me, why didn't I tell him to stop?"
"It felt good didn't it?" whispered a tiny voice from deep within Izumi
"Shut up! He raped me!"
"It felt great didn't it?" the little voice persisted.
"It felt terrible! It hurt!" Izumi said, but another part of him felt differently and that part throbbed and throbbed as his hand went to his erection.
Takamiya's voice had been kind and reassuring..."Relax, Izumi, relax..."
Izumi tried, but it was so big and he should have made him stop, but coming in Takamiya's mouth had felt so good and the truth was that scared as he was, the feeling had awakened lust and curiosity.
"It felt good didn't it?" the small voice within invited complicity.
Yes, the first part was good if shameful, but the next part hurt.
Yes, it hurt when Takamiya was putting it inside him. Surely then he should have really spoken up, really stopped things.
When Izumi cried out in pain, Takamiya paused, surprised, concerned,
"Does it hurt? What should I do?" he'd asked his voice so kind, so worried, but by that time, he was already in and it was too late anyway, wasn't it?
"I could have stopped him then, but I didn't."
Izumi wondered at that.
No, Izumi had said nothing but had lain there with feelings so mixed he was powerless to choose between them. He was so ashamed of where Takamiya was touching him, but with those arms clasping his body Izumi abandoned himself to other feelings--how the man possessed him, pierced him, filled him with a sensation part pain, part...no!
"Yes, part pleasure...It hurt so good, didn't it?" whispered that small voice.
If Izumi had truly wanted it to stop, all he would have had to say was, "Yes, it hurts. Take it out!" But he didn't.
"You wanted it too, admit it," the voice urged him to agree. "Remember?"
Remember? He wondered if he would ever be able to forget how hungry his body had been. Curious, excited, yes so excited, he was thrilled by the feel of that cock moving in him. It wasn't a matter of a few seconds of thrusting, either.
Izumi had closed his eyes. .
"The better to feel it," said the small voice.
Izumi blushed, his cheeks abloom like peonies in spring.
Takamiya's torso pressed down close to his. The skin of his chest rubbed against Izumi's nipples provoking a reaction that went straight to the boy's cock. Takamiya pressed hot kisses on Izumi's neck, his strong hands gripped Izumi's hips, then moved to cup his ass, pulling him closer and pushing in deeper, moving tight, so tight in a hot fast rhythm until Izumi came for the second time that night even as he felt Takamiya's hot flood spurt inside him.
It was wrong. So very wrong, but he'd never felt anything like it. Even now the thought troubled him, thrilled him.
Alone in his room, Izumi stroked himself to the rhythm that Takamiya set that night, the memory of the man's sexual groans so exciting that Izumi's sperm jetted out in a hot burst as it had that night when Takamiya finally came in shuddering spasms with Izumi embraced in his arms.
In the aftermath of the act, as Izumi's feelings of pleasure ebbed away, only shame was left. When Takamiya pulled out and moved off him, the youth felt gentle fingers cup his chin.
"Such beautiful pink cheeks," the man said softly.
Izumi said nothing but lay there with his eyes closed, holding back tears of shame. He wouldn't let that man see him cry.
"I'm going to take a shower now, Izumi. Do you want to join me?"
Izumi said nothing, but rolled over. Takamiya gently pulled the sheets up to cover him and left the boy to his thoughts.
It had felt so...so...so dirty. Never had Izumi felt so self-disgusted. He had thrown away his integrity for a moment of pleasure.
How could he ever face his family again?
Seduced by a man.
But he had gone back to his home and acted as if nothing had happened, even when Takamiya showed up that following morning. Izumi's mother didn't have a clue.
The boy would keep the secret from his family, and no one would be the wiser. Certainly not Izumi, himself, if he was honest.
Some few days later, he still could not get that man out of his mind, and he jerked off again remembering the intimate details of that night.
The release felt good, but it made him feel dirty and shame burned his cheeks again.
"I'm not a homo!" Izumi yelled out in his lonely room.
"I never want to see that man again!"
Still he wondered why he ended up crying so hard after he said it.
In the language of flowers, the peony means "shame."