I Hate to Love Him, but I do

Reads: 541  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 3

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Gay and Lesbian  |  House: Booksie Classic
A gay couple's troubled relationship is slowly getting better, however something much more sinful and dangerous is lurking in the shadows.

Submitted: October 03, 2012

A A A | A A A

Submitted: October 03, 2012

A A A

A A A


He has left me, once more alone til he sees to return. Even before the door bell rings I've decided not answer. I have often before grown tired of his henchmen ringing only to attempt to placate me. The flowers, gems, and other material objects hold no value to me. I lay crying, watching the door, and berating my foolish heart for being hopeful. My hope is shattered when once again he walks in smelling of whores, cigar smoke, and blood. I remember when we were in love. It was a time when I didn't care he smelt of these when he came home if it stopped him from hurting me. Now I would gladly take him dry, with no preparation, if only to have him at all. Unlike every other time before, when I would send him to shower and rid himself of their gastly scent, I took him into my arms right away. I know he sees the shine of my eyes when he simply turns and spoons me, tonight just holding me tightly in his arms. Unlike most mornings when I am greeted by breakfast and a servant, I awake to him nuzzling my neck, and peppering butterfly kisses unto my face. I am almost in tears, though I know this is far from the end of his infidelity it is a start.

I have never addressed his habits, however today is a day of change. When asked why he leaves me only to be with male whores and smoke his reply "They don't mean anything to me. It doesn't bother me in the slightest to hurt them. I thought by hurting them I would be saving you from my insane sadism. I always knew you were angered and somewhat hurt by me cheating, however I always told myself better to them hurt you than me. If only because I knew if I were to start hurting you it might kill you." After his statement there wasn't much I could really say. I settled for wrapping him in a hug, and giving him a light peck on the lips.

I had the sudden idea of something brilliant to do, something I haven't done with him since we were children. I went into my dressing room, and gathered all of my makeup, all of my dresses, and all of my hair products. While he was darker complected with black hair, and brown eyes. I was much fairer and blond headed, with dark green eyes. My hair is waist length and awfully thin. I curl my hair, tie it up, and then shake loose some of the curls. I grab a light green eyeliner, a vanilla perfume, my favorite mascara, and of course a clear lip gloss. After heavily appling the eyeliner,puting a quick coat of mascara on, lightly appling the lip gloss, and dabbing some perfume at my wrists and neck I am ready to head out.

We spend our day in New York just stroling around the shopping district. He buys me the most outlandishly expensive things, it's his way of apologizing. I allow it because I know he doesn't know any other way, and if I didn't he would think I was still mad at him. after we come out of a store he chuckles and I giggle at the expressions on the clerks' faces soon as they realize that I am in fact male. The more highly trianed ones, and the ones whom have been on the job longer their reactions are a few blinks and then they go on. The newer ones however are enough to make me want burst a rib right then and there within the store. He is A-list at least, the paparazzi make ours lives harder than required, but I live with them because I love him. They have been snapping photos of us since we left the house. They don't know the house, though they are aware that we own a jet, and when that jet goes off well it isn't pretty. When we were thirteen and we first started dating oh lord. The first date we ever went on they show a brand new picture of it every year on my birthday as that was the day of the date. They have that many pictures from that one four hours tops evening. It surprises me every year, it's near the only day of the year we buy a paper.

I can feel his stare piercing me, and that is what drags me out of my thoughts. He worries about me when I get deep into thoughts. He once said "Someday your are going to go so very into thought that you will never come out again. This will leave sad and lonely, just a ghost haunting the wide earth." I wonder if he thinks me foolish. I know I live the life most people would die for, however the only thing that kept me alive after the first time he cheated was the thought that he came back. The money, fame , and fourtune are nothing to me other than distractions from our love, well our work in progress love that is. I draw closer to him " Dearest I tire of shopping. Might we just head homeward instead." I know of his love for older type speech. His only repile was to call the limo driver to take us back to the airport.

There are to be some slashy moments down below so if you would prefer not to read them just skip to the next bold writing

Our filght home would take at least three hours, so I have decided to make the best of our time. My husband sits across from me in the booth like seats, I stand and head over to couch my fingers beconning him to follow. I push him unto the plush couch, something so completely out of character I fear he might check me for fever. After a quick peck on the lips I move downwards til my lips hover over his jugular vein. I know he can feel my breath ghosting over his skin, and I can feel his interest pressing into my thigh. I bite down hard drawing more than just little blood. I suckle on it for a spell getting roughly a tablespoon into my mouth. When I go up to kiss him again we can both taste the iron, copper, and salt, however instead of sickening his arousal only grows. He filps us over and for the first time I hear him say "Your safe word for the evening is black. Say yes Master if you understand." I nodded saying "Yes Master " all the while. He removes his tie and binds my hands with it. He selects one of the hand-towels from the plane's bathroom and I am now blinded as well. I can feel something warm at my lips. I hear the command to open my mouth, but not to speak. I do as I am told, and I can now feel that it is a dildo. A warm vibrating one at that, but still a dildo. I am told to suck on it and make it really wet or the next part of our fun will be much more painful than it has to be. He turns me around, positions me to where my ass is the air and probably in his face as well considering we are both kneeling, and then I am distracted by something cutting the air making a funny noise. I figured out not seconds later that it was his hand, after all I couldn't help but figure out what with the work in progress bruises. He removes the dildo, and I can feel it sliding up and down the length of my ass crack. Suddenly I feel it pushed in, and it doesn't hurt near as much as the first time we had sex did. I realize I like to slow burning pain of the dildo in my ass. I never knew how much I would change for him, or maybe this is just a part of me I didn't see and he is capable of showing me. I feel really empty now, he has taken out the dildo, but I feel something even larger making it's way into me. I get a few seconds pause for me to adjust, but then he is pounding me furiously, and it hurts so fucking bad I feel I could die. Then the pleasure huts me and I still I feel I could die, though for a complete opposite reason from a few seconds ago. I am moaning, groaning, half sobbing in pleasure, however it just keeps coming. He reaches inbetween us, pumps my couck roughly a few times, and thats all it takes I'm cumming. It almost looks like snow cream coating our stomachs, however this particular cream is much warmer than snow cream could ever be. He came soon after I did, I can feel his seed coating my inner walls. He dips a finger into the mess I've made and slowly puts into his mouth. A thoughtful expression comes unto his face, be fore he states in a content yet very sleepy voice " You taste like apples" . I cannot help but laugh even in my exausted state. We turn to where I am laying on his chest, and soon we are both claimed by the sandman.

Hopefully awesome slashly part over

I feel the plane touch down, and shake Logan awake. We both dress quickly after we clean up. I step off the plane to see our house surrounded by paparazzi, I look to Logan with tears in my eyes, he gets a firce look on his face, and I know that my husband will solve the problem. "Allona into the house, now." his order has my lower region interested, but never the less my guards battle the press, while I make my way into the house. I go to our room and change into clothes more approprite for dealing with the press. I turn on the news to see that are shooting live, Logan seems to be fixing the horrible mess. "I'll arange for private interviews, with CNN, People, New York times, and Newsweek. Until your interview though I ask you to leave our property." there was an order in his voice, but the fashion in which he said make the whole thing sound so very reasonable. To be honest I thought it was reasonable. I dread the interviews, but there isn't much i can do. I could ask him to cancel them, though I doubt he would, I could simply refuse to show up, he'd likely throw me over his shoulder, and then carry me there kicking and screaming. Niether are options, however I think I might just attend, if only to give the world a shock.

A/N I'm going nuts, and honestly have no desire to finish, if anyone would like to adopt the story I'm open to disscussion.


© Copyright 2018 Ambrosette. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:

Comments

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

More Gay and Lesbian Short Stories