Just Give Me A Reason
--- A short narrative. The other did really good and I felt inspiration again, so I did it again! What other reason?----
Just Give Me A Reason
by theonehowl
The stress got me to load up the pipe and smoke, thinking of how sick I am of my boss being late. She's not even the manager, she's just an assistant. Does that really give her freedom to come in late? Will the boss see how I stayed thirty minutes late and even say anything about it? I don't know. And I don't care, because the smoke is lit and it feels so good. And it's a good reason.
I'm not going home because it's too early, and I don't even feel tired. The stress and smoke got me all wound up. Besides, I received an invitation to a nice, loving lion's house. He probably will want to hit on me and try to get me in the sac and stuff, but it won't be any big deal. I can say no. I just have to get over there. Have to get the stress off my chest. It won't be too bad with him flirting; he thinks I'm so hot. I need someone to talk to. And it's a good reason
I park behind his car, instead of leaving it by the road. His neighborhood is a little sketchy, and I like for it to look like my car isn't available for breaking in to. Not only that, but the road looks really narrow and the cars that sped past didn't seem conscientious of the other vehicles parked by the curb. Being careful never hurts, and there's no reason for taking chances. Especially after dealing with a stressful night.
It occurs to me when I knock that I never called. Would he be mad? Probably not since it's me. He'd probably care if it was anybody else, but he's so into me that he's probably expecting me every night. He probably dresses in a robe and lights the candles and thinks about a surprise visit from me. My body shivers, mostly because the thought disturbs me. Being disturbed is a good reason to shake that much.
I try to ignore the red satin that lights up the lion's frame after he opens the door. How did I know? Typical. And the candles burn behind him. I sigh in grief at how predictable this gaybag is. He invites me in and I tell him work was pretty tough, feeling woozy from the smoke kicking in. I sit next to him because it's the first spot my butt finds. Being so stoned makes decision making easy, and after I understand that there is a homo who has it bad for me this close to my body, my mind says "fuck it". I'm too stoned, and that's my excuse. Don't really need a reason when you're this stoned.
He starts talking to me, but my eyes are locked on to the flickering candle dancing on its red wick that's seated on the coffee table. The glow just kind of draws me in deeper, so interesting. The stoned thinking makes me giggle a little at how far I'm gone. The lion thinks I'm having a good time being with him, but he doesn't know I'm just really messed up. I think his arm moves around my shoulders, but that might just be the couch as I'm sinking down deeper into the soft cushions of the navy blue pleather. Maybe it's time to leave, but the lion's paw on my thigh wants me to stay so bad. He's so lonely, and gays have such a hard time in this town. I could treat him a little kinder than I have, especially stoned because everything is so nice. And love is such an easily giveable thing when I feel this good. That's definitely a good reason.
He says he wants to take the stress away. I tell him I would love that. Then he says his heart beat is rhythm that I need to get on track with, a beat that could bring my racing pulse down and therefore calm things down. It definitely makes sense at the time. So I leaned forward, his scent wafting over me and reeking of arousal. My canine nose becomes sensitive to it, making me shift a little. The movement shouldn't be too noticeable as I'm laying my head down on his chest. I just don't want to lead him on. He's such a nice guy. Then he tells me to close my eyes. That would definitely lead him on, and I give him a look, like; that isn't happening. But then he tells me how it helps the sound to be so much clearer. I close my eyes to give a testing listen. He doesn't move, knowing to give me my distance. It does sound clearer. The slow but steady thump against his chest puts me at ease. I feel so relaxed with my head on his chest, feeling that thump against my face and his smell against my muzzle, that it doesn't even bother me when he pets my cheek. It just feels good. There's no better reason.
I must have fallen asleep because my eyes open and the bed sheets are covering my head. Then, my tongue moves with a warm, strange taste and unfamiliar texture of saliva... it's thicker. I start to wonder if I sleep-walked into the kitchen for pudding, but realize with cold terror that the these weren't bed sheets around my head. The lion pulls back his robe some, and I tilt my head up to see him smiling down at me. I'm sitting on my knees while he's standing in front of me... hard, and naked under the red satin. I do a comical gulp of fear and nervousness, and suddenly go rigid at the new realization at what I just swallowed. I whimper softly, unable to hide the confusion and worry and it's scary to know that he did this while I was asleep and... I begin looking at him again, to see if he feels any remorse... but then I see something else in his smile. I see confidence. I see a lion that needs the same things I need. He's been there for me when I need to talk things out. He's always been there. He simply helped me realize this. I owe him so much for that very fact. My tongue licks along the edge of my lips as the understanding comes over me. It all make sense to repay him for my ignorant cruelty, my abuse to our precious friendship. Servitude seems like the only answer, the only justice to my crime. It's better than any other reason I can think of...
----COMMENT YOU BITCHES! GAH! DX You wonder why I don't write as much, well dont! Cause Im tryin' >:C ---