Under Lock and Key

8: The End of the Beginning

8:  The End of the Beginning

Lee Clarke, May 1st, 1946, Crescent City

"My dad says, one more slip up, and he'll ship me off to boarding school in Scotland. Scotland, Lee!"

I pushed his notebook towards him. We were sitting on the floor in his bedroom, after school.

"Why Scotland?"

"I have no idea!! Because it's far away. Because it's colder than here! Because he found a place there, Lee, where the Queen of England's husband went to school."

"Then get your work done, Richard. You're smarter than me by far. You should do your own homework. If you keep failing, it's your own fault."

"But it's so booorrrrinnnng!! I just want to have fun with my LeeLee. Sixteen today. My birthday boy needs a very special present." He shoved the books and papers to the side and crawled over to me, pushing me down and caging me between his arms.

I tried to keep my cool, but his hips were pressing against me, and I could feel his erection flush against my own.

"I thought you just said you'd be shipped to Scotland if..."

But that's as much as I could get out before he interrupted me.

"Shut up, LeeLee." And his mouth was on mine.

Kissing Richard, eating my cake, sent me places I normally didn't go. I don't want to be the person who exaggerates, who draws attention to themselves, who lives life like they're in the center ring of a circus. I'm far happier behind the scenes, completely unseen, calm and collected. Thinking not feeling. Watching not doing.

But being with Richard like this, he forced me into the spotlight of my own life.

His mouth on mine, his tongue slick against mine, his fingers in my hair, his pelvis pushing hard against me made me abandon the person I wanted to be and instead became...

A hot mess, basically.

Sweaty and gasping, blood boiling, muscles straining, overwhelmed with need. It felt wrong, it felt ugly but I didn't care one iota.

I wasn't thinking at all.

I was reacting.

When he put his hand down to my waist and pulled out the bottom of my tucked in button down shirt, I let him.

When he all but ripped the shirt off of me, buttons flying everywhere, I let him.

When he knelt down and licked me, his tongue swirling in my belly button before he made a wet stripe up to my nipple and flicked it repeatedly before sucking on it, I let him.

When he put his hands further down, pressing hard on the line in my trousers, I let him.

I let him unzip my pants. I let him push down my underwear to touch me where no one had touched me before. I let him grin devilishly above me, as he grabbed my hand and forced me to touch him. I let him make extremely loud and embarrassing noises as he pulled down his own pants and held our cocks together.

I might have made my own sounds. I did. I made horribly embarrassing sounds because I couldn't keep them bottled up inside. My skin was on fire.

"LeeLee is my wife. My wife." He moaned, rubbing us together, letting go, spitting into his hand and resuming his work, slick now with saliva.

"I'll give you your present, LeeLee." He breathed heatedly in my ear, licking inside and sucking on my earlobe. Then pressed his face against my chest, moving slowly down my body.