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moidixmois

Dreaming in monochrome - my o.f.

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moidixmois

Summary: Knowing he's been cheated, he waits for his lover determined to end it

but his lover has other plans for him.

Status: Discontinued

I was in doubt ever since I joined about posting this.

It's not about the critics, I'd love to get some.. but I'm shy

I wrote this text in November 2011. I had it published in a small electronic newspaper and read it aloud in a bar in front of at least 25 people. The reactions were terrific. :)

Now I can only hope you will like it.

 

Dreaming in monochrome

 

I am so pathetic. Why would I wait for him to come home?

What am I waiting for in the first place?

Whenever he comes home he smells of them, whoever they are. It’s never the same perfume but it hurts nonetheless.

Each day is a same story singled out. Does it even make sense?

My everyday is dull, moronic, I’m jaded.

We were so happy, I’m sure. I always took care of his happiness in the first place and followed him in all of his enthusiastic missions so why?

Am I not enough? Have I got boring?

I can hear the key in the lock as I sit motionless on the couch in the living room.

He’s going to find me like this. Few cans of beer scattered around because of my failed attempt to get drunk and me in tears, in one of his tee shirts.

He makes all those soft sounds when he walks around the apartment.

I don’t know how that is possible but I can actually hear his footsteps even on the rugs.

I don’t dive in that one for now – I have serious matters to discuss with him.

The light is switched on. He’s standing there, looking better than I’ve ever seen him.

Better then what he looked like when we started going out and he was trying to impress me with his refined taste. But I can feel all that’s happened.

I can almost see through the air silhouettes of those he spends his nights with, all around him, trying to lick and kiss and bite any piece of him available. Like starving monsters.

He’s staring at me in disbelief. What have you done? I can almost hear him say.

But he doesn’t say anything and that’s confusing and painful.

“Was it good?” I hear myself asking him, my voice nothing but rough.

“Yes,” he shortly replies and goes away, in the bedroom I suppose.

Distant rustling of material and I’m sure he is throwing away the smelly clothes and changing into something else.

Very soon he comes back to me.

He smells of soap – he’s washed himself. I don’t even want to be close to him.

“The meeting went fine,” he says and I know that he’s lying to me.

There has been no meeting.

“How are you? What have you been up to?” – Oh he’s trying to start a conversation.

“Was it a girl or was it a boy?” I say instead of answering his questions and he has the grace to look shocked.

That shock however quickly morphs into something that I can’t define. It’s not anger but he’s not calm either. He’s upset.

He stands up, I didn’t even notice him sitting next to me.

He continues staring, trying to determine how drunk I am, I guess.

“What?” he finally says, his voice a funny level I didn’t know he could approach.

Usually I’m the one with squeaky voice when… oh I won’t go there.

“Ducky… you’ve had too much of that beer. Come on, I will take you to bed”

I raise my head to look at him properly and I see concern. He’s worried about me.

I laugh and it startles him. I’m not a person who’s into alcohol. I’m straight edge.

Or now I’m not?

I wave my arms around in a ridiculous attempt to start saying something.

“I’m fine,” I end up replying and I settle down, my eyes turned towards the rug under our feet.

He comes to kneel in front of me, his expression open and concerned.

He’s an actor, of course he can do this.

“What’s going on?” he asks and I don’t feel like answering. I play with the pillow in my arms. I don’t know when I grabbed it but it feels good, I have something to do with my hands.

“Ducky? Kkuma? Let’s go to bed” he’s persistent.

I shake my head slowly. It’s heavy and I can barely think because I feel like all in my brain is painted red and there are these black letters which form the word Cheater.

It’s like I have a constant symphony of screams in my head.

“Please? I will…” he trails off, suggesting that he’s got something in stock for me once we get to the bedroom.

I ignore him and it’s affecting him, it seems.

He sighs, leans his chin on the pillow and catches my eyes with his beautiful pair of green.

Why should he be allowed to be so gorgeous?

I lose myself in his eyes and I don’t notice the smirk playing on his lips.

I lean in and he does as well, both seemingly eager to get our lips together, to get a taste.

The angle is weird but he’s kissing me and anything else doesn’t matter at the moment.

He doesn’t waste time but runs his tongue across my lower lip and I let him in.

I give up and I let him have his way with me.

 

~

 

I’m not sure how much time passed but he’s still there, on his knees in front of me and now he’s not kissing my mouth but my belly. And his hands pull down on my pajamas until he has them taken off.

I’m still so very motionless and even if it unnerves him he doesn’t show it.

Right now I can see him smirking but the smirk that he’s got is a different one, one that he obtains before he… oh, that feels wonderful.

I grip the couch cover and whatever comes in my way and lean my head back, losing myself in the feeling of his mouth on my cock. It’s amazing in every possible way and I’m not sure why I don’t ask him to suck me off more often.

I’m not aware of the sounds I produce, I could never be. He says I’m quite vocal and he likes it. I don’t mind it if he likes it then.

He eyes me as he circles the head of my cock with his tongue and I almost come then.

Almost.

Quickly after that he pulls back and comments on my sensitivity.

I’m ready to ask him if he dislikes it but he adds that it makes me even sweeter if possible. And that he’s going to fuck me. After I return the favour.

Feeling cozy I don’t want to move but he’s there in front of me, standing and touching himself over his pajama pants and it looks so enchanting.

He smiles and beckons me one more time and I slither down in front of the couch, on my knees. My fingers shake as I pull on the waistband of his pajamas and even though I don’t know whether it’s real or not I hear him laughing.

His cock is hard. Maybe the one he fucked tonight left him unsatisfied.

I shift through various positions as I take him in my mouth and work him my best.

I love the feeling of his cock hitting up the roof of my throat and what I love most are his sharp intakes of breath and barely there sighs.

It pleases me and I silently wonder whether one of his fuck buddies can suck his cock the way I can, the way I do.

I take it all and I put my hands on his thighs. It’s not some divine feeling and my throat closes around the huge object inside my mouth but it pleases him and sometimes I get the feeling I live for pleasing him.

I pull back to take a breath and he chants “Again, again…” endlessly, his hips rocking in empty. I lick random patches, ignoring his plea until he shoves his cock deep in my mouth and fucks it for all its worth.

I protest with moans but he likes it. He generally likes dominating me in every way possible.

I realize all of a sudden that I still have some power over him and I gently move his hands away from my head and make my decision in a span of a second.

I slowly lick the underside of his cock and I can feel him in anticipation, truly wondering what my plans for him are.

Then I run my tongue over the slit and I feel proud and I feel powerful as his whole manly façade crumbles when he shudders.

Of course it’s short lived and he has me pinned down on the rug before I can say anything but it was worth it.

His hands are soft as he caresses random parts of my body and he tries the thing with the nipples even though he knows I hate it because my nipples are always completely numb.

He kisses me and kisses my throat.

Soft but strong arms grip on my thighs and I know that he will fuck me into the floor but perhaps that is what I need.

He’s gone.

I turn my head and I see him crawling towards his jacket thrown on the couch.

He takes out a tube that is all too familiar and I have tears in my eyes because it just confirms the terrible truth no matter how much he ignores and tries to conceal it.

I cry like a little baby while he’s coating his fingers and his cock and I go through the whole process of his delicate thrusts of fingers in my arse with a blissful ignorance.

I can no longer be ignorant when he puts his cock in as I can’t be when his eyes catch mine. I’m not sure if this is fucking or a staring competition.

He’s not gentle, not the slightest bit. He was so gentle during the first few months.

He treated me like a delicate object, he used to endlessly explore and cherish my body until I begged him for more. I’m not sure what happened. Weren’t we supposed to talk about this?

I loll my head in every direction because it’s so good after all.

He knows precisely where to thrust to make me moan like a little slut, he knows everything about me and I’m left here with the knowledge of nothing.

I feel so stupid and I feel so good and I’m somehow aware that I’m losing myself but he’s on top of me and his cock is in my arse and it’s all so good and wrong and all in the same time.

The whole world is painted in the shades of him.

I look at him and he smirks again.

“He was so good you know…” he says and I can’t believe what I’m hearing.

“They are always so good…and tight, they moan like you…but no one can reach you baby…”

I don’t want to listen to this. It hurts so much.

“Stop,” I plead but he’s having none of it.

I have given him myself and he’s going to use me as he wishes. It’s all my fault.

His sweet voice fills everything.

“You’re pathetic…” he confirmed it… “…but you are the best fuck.”

“Stop it!” I scream and it’s deliciously wrong how I come in the same moment.

He chuckles and thrusts deep, his eyes more alive than I have ever seen them.

I embrace myself as I try to lock him out but he singles himself out in my world and again he’s all I can see and feel and smell and touch.

He’s here and he’s everywhere and he comes and fills my hole up.

 

~

 

I feel his fingers on my chest, tracing invisible lines and playing with my nipples.

I don’t want to acknowledge him but he insists on cuddling after what he considers as awesome sex.

He leans in closer and whispers in my ear “Are you mad at me?” a noticeable chuckle in his voice. I refuse to answer.

It hurts so much that I feel like ripping my chest apart.

I will never be able to understand his motives but it’s happened and he no longer denies it. I can no longer live the way I used to. I can no longer live with the knowledge.

I know it will happen again because he’s just like that.

He stands up and he’s going to leave me, I’m sure.

He’s going to leave me to pick up the pieces of myself while being able to see only the shades of him everywhere around me, composing the world.

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shirotsuki

sweetie...

please please be a writer!!

you are amazing...

i could die happy after reading this! :)

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moidixmois

Gem you are wonderful. Thank you. foxy2

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dulcehakaido

wow:hamtaro-005 (10):

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Miro

Wow! It was amazing! *__*

 

The seme was so bad but so charming in the same time! I liked it very much!

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Nao

I liked it too! I liked the uke the most. He seemed so in love with the cruel seme. Will you write more?

Or at least another story? :)

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moidixmois

Thank you, Nao!

I prefer him over the "bad guy" too. he seems very deep and very open about his feelings.

I am not sure about writing more for this story but I will surely write and post more of other things (:

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