What Happens in the Dark

Chapter Twenty-Seven

A few days after the first time...

My mother and Gerrard were out for one of their weekly dates, and Draven and I had just finished fucking each other silly over the arm of the couch. He had me propped on his lap, facing outward as he pounded his bulbous cock into me, topping me from the bottom, and ensuring that I would feel him when we were done.

And feel him I did. We were actually sitting on the couch now, our clothes halfway thrown on, bodies slicked with sweat. I swiped my hand through my matted mass of hair. "I still feel you, you know." I told him, grinning like a loon in my sated state, though if he attacked me again, I certainly wouldn't refuse.

He grinned back, his eyes closed as he relaxed into the plush back of the couch. "That's fair, since my cock is coated in your juices still."

My eyes narrowed on said cock in question, now fully covered, though his pants were unbuttoned and I could make out the faintest glimpse of his dark pubic hair. "I'd say your juices are in the mix as well."

"Yes, well, I like the idea of yours more. I think mine are more suited deep inside you, anyway."

"Hmm, I think they are too."

There was a brief silence that surrounded us. It was far from awkward, and still had a lingering buzz of electricity. Something I was quickly learning with Draven was, I always wanted him, even if he had just taken me. How much, I didn't know at the time, or pay enough attention to it, but I enjoyed it nonetheless and revelled in the attention he gave me.

"Your mother tells me that you're going to college to be a translator. You're majoring in Spanish."

I was bemused by the sudden subject of conversation, and I let that show on my face as I stared at him. He seemed to be working up to a question, with how he worded his statement, and I waited in silence for him to continue. My brow raised in inquiry.

"Why Spanish? And why that particular career?" He finally said.

"I don't want to be a linguist," I began, "but I've always wanted to be bilingual. I think learning another language would be amazing. And not simply because it will help with communication when I visit other countries, but because it will flex my mind and exercise it in a way that can't necessarily be done otherwise. I chose Spanish because it has a lot of Latin root words, which English has in many branches. The Latin will help if I decide to learn another language, like French, for example, because there is a lot of Latin in that language as well. Also, many of the countries I want to travel to one day are of Spanish native speakers. My ultimate goal is to live out my days in Costa Rica."

"Why Costa Rica?"

"The weather and beaches mostly." I said honestly. "It's a steady sixty to eighty degrees everyday of the year. The fruit that's grown there is abundant and delicious, I've heard. I've subscribed to a lot of people who backpack through Costa Rica on YouTube, and I sort of fell in love with it. The scenery, the food, the locals, it all seems like a dream to me. A dream that I desperately want to be a part of."

"I'm guessing you want to be a translator for tourists, then?"

"Mostly, yes. But I think it will benefit the locals as well. There will always be ignorant people who think that making exaggerated gestures and speaking in slow tongues will help others understand their language. I want to help diminish that problem. Or at the very least make it less frequent."

"I never thought of that. Being a translator, I mean. I think it could be demanding work for people who travel for business frequently and aren't fluent."

"Precisely. I want to travel the world. I want to experience it first hand, without the lens of a phone separating us. I want to see the world at different angles and cultures. The beautiful, the ugly, the rich, the poor, the ancient, the modern, I want to see it all."