This is the chapter where the stuff you horny bastards love comes in 🫰. So, since I know there are people out there saying, “Plot? What plot? I’m here for the porn”
I’m going to highlight the part where the action starts in red UwU You probably don’t need that much backstory to get it anyway.
Este es el capítulo donde viene lo que se les gusta maldita gente horny 🫰. Asi que como se que hay gente que dice: ¿Trama? ¿Cuál trama? Yo vine por el porno
Voy a remarcar en rojo la parte en dónde empieza la acción UwU, igual no necesitan tanto contexto de la historia para entenderle.
Link AO3 Chapter: https://archiveofourown.org/works/79761741/chapters/227414586
English is not my first language, so I used a translator.
Tags for This chapter:
Tobias Erin "Toby" Rogers | Ticci Toby/Reader, Oral Sex, Puppyboy Tobias Erin "Toby" Rogers, Hair-pulling, Cunnilingus, Rough Kissing, Masturbation, Vaginal Fingering, Frottage, Orgasm, Consensual Non-Consent, Dubious Consent.
Not Beta Read || I'm bad tagging
- Oh no, you're on your own in that.
You give Eli a tired look as you open the chimney pot, shining your phone's light inside. The place is creepy. You crouch down to get a better look; it's full of dust, dirt, and who knows what else.
- If we need to escape at any point, this is the best way.- you insist, crawling forward to see the vast darkness. When you were younger, you used to go inside to play, always coming out covered in dirt. Now you understand why your aunt didn't like it.
It occurred to you that if the faceless man plans to keep sending these proxies to kill them, they might as well have a better plan than last night's. Even a safe escape route. And what could be better than the existing routes through the old mansion? The only problem is that they haven't been used in years ; you're sure it must be infested with pests like cockroaches, mice, and other vermin.
You crawl out to see your friend who is still looking at you with disgust.
- Yes… but I'm not going in there. You know I'm terrified of rats. Besides, I have to go to work. As much as I'd like to stay with you and your psychotic "friends," I have to earn a living.
You had already spoken to your aunt about cleaning that place, so you have what you need to do it, but for the first time it seems urgent to do the cleaning.
- Okay. But this is going to take me hours. - you explain, drawing out the word "time".
- Nice try.- she mocks, reaching for her bag on one of the armchairs.- Good luck with the asylum.
You look at her, biting your lip. You don't like her calling them that, but you can't deny that you got yourself into this situation.
- Don't look at me like that. Listen, I'm not going to leave you, okay? But really, I have to go to work and get in there…
As if to make his point, he stares into the endless darkness of the tunnel.
- Fine. - You roll your eyes, defeated. - Do you remember where I left my stroller? The one I take with the kids?
- I think he stayed at the Morrigan's house.- he replies with some discomfort.
True. You'll have to find another way to carry everything you need.
- Whatever. Really, anything, call me, okay?
You can't help but groan as you stand up. You understand their fear, but it doesn't seem right to express it that way.
- I don't think they'll do anything . Besides, Mask- I mean, Tim seemed really bad , you know? I think they all really want to get out of this.
Eli crosses his arms, saying nothing, but his disapproving and worried look says it all.
- And that's why you wouldn't survive in a horror movie.- he jokes, playfully pushing you by the shoulder.
You just smile, almost guilty for worrying her. Almost .
You sigh, your gaze distant. The boys are upstairs; you gave them one of the many rooms in the house. You feel uneasy, perhaps trusting Tobias a little more, but even so, that's uncertain.
✘✘✘✘✘✘✘✘✘
You hum an old rock song you remember listening to as a teenager. The song plays in your Bluetooth headphones as you arrange all your "vermin extermination" supplies in an old wheelbarrow that has definitely seen better days. Now all that's left is to take them to the old shed several meters from the house; that's the exit from the passageway.
The only problem will be getting them down through the trapdoor.
- Dear Diary … Life is trying me … - you sing to yourself, probably off-key, looking at your phone screen to pause the song.
Someone touches your shoulder, making you jump.
- I like that song.
- Shit!
You scream, dropping your phone in the process. Behind you, Toby looks at you with a guilty smile as you put a hand to your chest. You take off your earbuds and put them back in their case.
- God, Toby. You almost scared me to death. What are you doing here?
You ask questions while holding up your phone and putting your headphones in your jacket pockets.
- I was going to ask the same thing.- the boy said, hiding his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt.- You're tempted to ask when he last washed it.- Eli said you were going to do something about the passageway.
You raise your eyebrows, somewhat surprised. Clearly, Eli doesn't trust any of them. So why send him with you? A faint hope that the girl might trust Toby, even just a little, makes you smile.
- I'm going to try to clean up the passageways. After last night, I just hope your boss doesn't send any more of your colleagues after me. I swear my body can't take any more beatings.
You bite your tongue, noticing the boy's discomfort; perhaps it was too soon for that joke. Brian had dug his knee into your back with all his weight, and you also have new scrapes on your knees. Looking in the mirror that morning, you look like you're in an abusive relationship. You did your best to put on clothes that cover each wound and bandages so they wouldn't feel guilty if they saw you.
- I guess it's a plan! Escape ! 007 ! *tic* ... Shit.
You couldn't help but laugh this time.
- Sorry.- you apologize so as not to make him feel bad; you don't want him to think you're making fun of him.- It's just that this is the second or third time your Tourette's has made you mention a movie. It's kind of funny, and cute too.
You start walking, pushing the old wheelbarrow. Toby follows you without saying anything, wondering if you really hear yourself when you talk sometimes.
You say nothing about their almost silent company until you reach the shed, now nothing more than an old wooden shack. You ask the boy for help opening the door, which is stuck on the pile of dirt and rocks on the floor. The place is littered with old, rusty tools, covered in layers of dust and dirt, except for one spot where you can make out the outline of an entrance in the floor.
When you open the trapdoor, the smell of dust and age hits you, along with a hint of droppings, probably from mice or rats. At least it doesn't smell like death. You try to carry your things down, but when you see that's not possible, you decide to go down first and then ask the boy to throw them down for you.
As you go down, a scream of terror comes out of you; the stairs leading to the passageway are rusty and poorly placed, your foot slips on one of the steps.
- Are you o-okay?- the boy asks, trying to see you. The only light in the area is a bicycle flashlight you attached to your clothes so you wouldn't have to carry it.
- Yes. I just slipped. - you reply with a nervous laugh as you finish climbing down. - Can you-?
You don't finish asking because you hear the boy yell for you to move. You don't think twice; you finish climbing down and step aside as the bags of traps and other gear fall to the ground in front of you. When you look up, you see the boy coming down the metal stairs, skipping the last few steps to the ground as if it were nothing. Just watching him made your knees ache.
- Are you going to come with me?
- I don't think you can do it alone * tic *.
You're about to counter-argue when something comes to mind.
- I thought you didn't like enclosed spaces.
Toby grunts, his neck and shoulder cracking, a small, high-pitched sound coming from his mouth, but he doesn't say anything, he just goes for the bags, lifting both of them as if nothing happened with his arms and carrying one of those small folding ladders you had in one of his hands.
- You're going to have to light up the place! L-Light ! Light ! *tick*
In response, you take off the flashlight and attach it to her sweatshirt straps so she can wear it.
- Thank you.- you murmur, really grateful, finishing tying up the lantern.
You take out your phone to use as a second flashlight, better illuminating the area. It's less scary that way.
This place reminds you of a horror movie called "As Above, So Below" that Eli made you watch. The walls, which you think are rock, are perfectly carved to form the tunnel. Along the way, you see spiders, and at one point you feel something walk on your feet. You do your best not to scream, telling yourself they're just insects and animals, nothing to be afraid of.
The boy passes you the rat traps to set, as they walk along in comfortable silence, or as silent as he can be. It's actually quite comforting; the random sounds and the clicking of his bones are like background noise, reminding you he's there.
You don't consider yourself a super sociable person, but living alone with Eli in this mansion can be a bit desolate at times.
- Is everything alright?- you ask, glancing sideways at the boy as you finish setting another trap.
- Yeah.
He answers you without taking his eyes off you. He's surprised by how calm you are. He's a bundle of nerves (even if it's just because he's anxious about being in such an enclosed space) and feels he should fill the silence between you, but nothing comes to mind, and you're still acting so naturally, as if nothing happened last night.
- How are the others? - you ask, illuminating the walls.
- Tim and Brian? Well, I guess… they preferred not to leave the room…
Toby had planned to stay with the boys, but he could see Brian's annoyed face because he kept talking to "lighten the mood," but he didn't see any sign that Brian wanted to leave. Tim seemed—well, he supposes—not to get his hopes up and said he didn't care that much, but he was aware that the boy hadn't chosen this kind of life, not like he had.
- They should go out too. At least to eat.
You casually continue with the task of setting traps.
- Okay. Give me that bag, I need to install some lights.
The boy hands you the bag while taking out those battery-powered flashlights, which are supposed to be motion-activated. You put new batteries in each of the flashlights and continue talking:
- Are you...? Are there more like you? I mean, I know there are, but...
You leave your words hanging in the air, hoping Toby understands what you mean.
- Quite a few, I don't know them all. Some only through missions.
You sigh. You were hoping he'd say there weren't many of them, so at least you could come up with a plan or something. It's not like your first plan exactly worked, but…
- Not all of them are that bad , like Jack for example.
- Is he your friend?.- you asks, curious about the way he said his name.
- Yes! He's not very talkative, but we spend quite a bit of time together. He doesn't work for The Operator because he wants to, but he has to eat! Food ! Meat ! Blood ! So he really does it to survive.
- From the way you're saying it, I suppose it's not human, right?
- Yes, well, it was, but not anymore.
You hum along in understanding. You've seen cases like this with your aunt. Creatures who can't go against their nature. There are some who have a certain understanding, so they reach agreements like: Hey, don't kill any more innocent people in the woods; instead, we know a couple of rapists, abusers, and criminals who might be just as delicious. When you were younger, you used to think that was awful, but as you get older, you find it easier to see the shades of gray in people rather than just labeling them good and bad. Besides…
- I suppose she's a bit like a child I take care of.
Toby looks at you curiously, asking what kind of girl you're babysitting, as he helps you put up the ladder so you can install a lamp. Hammering the nail in is easier than you thought; the stone gives way under the tap of the hammer.
- It's... well, I'm not sure what it is. But it eats human flesh. We tried feeding it animal meat, but it seemed malnourished. In the end, it lives in an "orphanage" for children like itself...
- Where do they get their meat?- The question makes you give a lopsided smile as you come down the stairs.
- Do you remember that I mentioned some hunters and that they also knew other super-creative people ?
The boy nods. He doesn't see you as capable of killing someone. Although, of course, you did it to him, but he could justify it because of what you said about the possession with the ghost. Somehow, that excites him; he can't explain why , but he likes the idea.
- Sometimes they investigate people who are involved in shady things, and well, that's where the food comes from.
You hear a snort followed by hysterical laughter that makes you turn to look at him. You don't find it funny; it's the kind of "morally gray" thing that even Eli finds frightening. But you can't help smiling. For a moment, he looks so carefree.
- J- Just. I-I- I suppose you're ju- just- just as crazy as we- us! Ha ha ha! T- That explains ma- many things.
- Yeah, well, I talk to ghosts and I have a magic phone. It shouldn't be a surprise.- You try to sound offended, because you should be offended; no one should be happy that people don't think they're a good person.- Although that girl traumatized Eli. She tried to eat her, and I don't think she's forgiven us for that yet.
- I sometimes tell Jack he can eat me. I don't feel any pain, and he'd come back to life. It's a win-win. But he doesn't seem to like the idea.- he remarks casually, even proudly.
You're worried about their lack of self-preservation, but taking their point of view into account…
They get along well, don't they? He probably considers you his friend. I doubt he wants to eat you alive.
Toby hums, mulling over the idea. Jack is one of the few he knows who doesn't enjoy what he has to do; the boy does it more for survival than pleasure. And he supposes they can be considered friends by the standards of their lifestyle. Another thought strikes him: he can't always stick to a single topic of conversation.
- Besides hearing ghosts, can you see them?
- Huh? Yes.- you reply, a little distracted from trying to put up a light without it falling over.
- Cool . We couldn't see them at first.
- Are there ghosts too?- The shock in your voice is obvious.
- Y- Yes. Well, there are Sa- Sally and Ben. They're technically chi- children, but I think they're o- older than m- me.
- How can you see them?
That genuinely impresses you. Not many people have the ability or gift to see them, although there are some who have been around for so long that they learn to reveal themselves to the living, and of course, those who can move things or are more physical.
- N- I- I don't know. Did I just happen? I- I guess working for an entity has its advantages. * Tick *
The boy laughs, as if he'd actually said something funny, so much so that it starts to get a little exasperating. You have no idea what he finds so funny. But you decide to do what you do with kids: just ignore him until they get tired of it.
- Good. Let's continue, Little Wolf.
You stop dead in your tracks.
Toby's laughter stopped, but you could feel his smile.
- Y- You call me- you called me that the other day.
- Oh God.
You can feel the blood rushing to your face, which you cover with your hands in embarrassment. This bad habit is so ingrained that you've even given silly nicknames to the supermarket cashiers; the times you've had to flee in shame are numerous.
- Gods, forget I said that! - You turn away, trying not to see his face, nervous. You can feel his silly smile, though it doesn't seem so much mocking, just amused.
- Okay, okay. I- I'm sorry. It's just the first time I haven't seen you so calm. Th- That made you nervous .
- Just...- You want to scream for him to forget it, but you turn around, taking the small ladder with you.- Let's keep going, okay?
You can feel his mocking smile behind you, but you choose to ignore it.
As you expected, the battery-operated lamps ran out; you had told your aunt that there weren't enough for the long hallway.
- By the way.- Toby begins, as you try to walk, using only the flashlight for light.- H-How exactly do you plan to help us?
- Huh?
- I mean. I understand about the magic barrier, but what does your aunt have to do with it?
You think about it a little before you speak.
- Let's say she may have the ability to take them out of that entity's control.
Before you could ask any more questions, you found the stone step that leads to the narrow tunnel, the one that opens onto the campfire passage. You feel that the passage is terribly dark, even more so than where you are; the gloom of this place seems to consume any light. The light from your phone isn't enough to illuminate the end; even when you move it to the corners, you can only glimpse the ones closest to you.
You cough, feeling the dust and dirt accumulated in the place, so you tell Toby that they should put on the construction masks that come in the bag; that helps them breathe without dying in the attempt while they crawl.
- Be careful. I don't think I should set traps here because of the space.
You think about it for a bit. Maybe you should use a bucket of water or something to clean the area a little. You ask the boy to wipe the bottom of the now-empty bag with a cloth; at least you can remove the cobwebs.
You enter the space crawling on all fours. You just hope you don't run into a mouse or rat; it's not that you're afraid of those animals per se, what scares you is that they might get frightened and bite you. You've seen what rabies looks like, and it's not pretty.
You hear Toby come in behind you, you ask him to be patient while you use the flashlight to see the cobwebs before you run into them to remove them.
You continue with your task slowly when you hear heavy breathing behind you.
- Are you okay?- you ask, turning slightly to look at him.
When you don't get a response, you turn around as fast as you can. You shine your phone's light on the boy. He's still crouched on all fours, so you can see his back heaving with his breathing; his knuckles against the ground look white even though they're covered in grime like yours.
- Hey, okay, okay.
You speak to the boy, trying to make yourself comfortable in the cramped space, reaching out to hold his shoulders. But his trembling makes you constantly pull your hands away, even causing you to bump your head on the ceiling.
You can hear his breathing becoming more unsteady.
You push him, forcing him to sit in the small space. You can feel him trembling. You won't be able to move him to help him out of here, even if you try; they must be closer to the fireplace entrance than the hallway. No, it's best to let him pass.
You mentally scold yourself for letting him come with you, but you had simply forgotten him on the way; he hadn't shown any signs of a panic attack or anything when you walked down the hall, but it may be because this is a narrower place.
- You need to breathe.- you say, trying to shine the light on his face, but not directly into his eyes.
- I can't. No! Hmph!
You panic as you watch him struggle to remove the mask, his fingers constantly failing, scratching his skin hard without realizing it. The boy gasps as if he's crying, feeling like the mask is suffocating him. You mutter a curse, trying to help him take it off. You can feel him sweating; his hair had gotten caught in the safety pin when he put it on.
- Done!- you exclaim triumphantly. You may have pulled out some of her hair, but that doesn't matter now.- I need you to breathe.
You tell him once the mask fell to the floor with a hollow thud, lowering yours as if that will help you see him better. Toby continues breathing heavily, unable to relax.
- Okay, look at me. What do I smell like? - you ask, holding his face so he looks at you. You can feel saliva from his wound falling onto your hand, but you don't pay attention to it.
- W-What?- he asks, his voice choked, struggling to form the word.
- Five things.- You repeat what you've learned.- 5 things you see, 4 you touch, 3 you hear, 2 you smell and 1 you taste.
You speak quickly. Reviewing what you had learned.
- … Let's start with something easy, okay? What do I smell like?
You ask again, trying to keep his attention on you and not the enclosed space around him, since there isn't much to see and that would only make things worse. You didn't expect him to lean up to your shoulder; his spasms jolt you, but you hug him—maybe that will help.
- Sweet.- he stutters in a hoarse voice, but you can hear him breathing more calmly.
Well, at least it works. The perfume you're wearing is definitely better than any other scents that might remind him of the current situation.
- Cherry. Like Cherry Ice Cream.- you say, rubbing his back hard so he feels the pressure. - What else?
- Sweat.- he says, with a hint of distaste in his voice. It's probably both of yours.
- Okay, what are you tasting? Something…
You whisper.
- N- n- it's not fu- working.
Her voice cracks, you feel her lungs expand against your chest with each breath, trying to get air into them. You loosen your hug; maybe helping her breathe would be better. Before you can pull away, you scream. She bit you. Literally in the space between the sweater you chose and your neck. It hurts ; you can feel her bite hard, her teeth digging into your skin.
Now you feel like you're the one panicking, your heart pounding in your chest. You weren't expecting that. You feel his hand go to your sweater, pulling the fabric tightly between his fingers, pulling you too close. His other hand tightens around your back, pressing you too close to him.
To your surprise, he seems to calm down. His breathing is no longer so irregular.
- Toby?
You ask in a whisper, a soft moan of pain escaping your lips, a hand stroking his head in comfort. You hoped he would let go, that he would pull away and apologize for biting you. You know it's nothing personal, just the shock of the attack driving him to find anything to soothe himself and hold on to. His teeth released you, but he didn't let go.
A gasp of surprise escapes your lips as you feel his tongue pass over the same spot where he bit you.
- What are you doing?
You ask questions in a whisper, as if someone could hear you. You try to push him away to see him, but he only seems to grip your clothes tighter, his other hand sliding down to the small of your back. A squeal escapes your lips. He's sucking on the same spot where he bit you.
You hadn't noticed the position you were in. Your legs were spread as you squatted, fitting perfectly with his body when he hugged you, and now, with the closeness in the small space, the boy pressed you against him, lifting you high enough so that your head hit the tunnel ceiling.
Your mouth gets dry when you feel something hard against it.
- Toby. Put me down.- You whisper again, trying to sound firm, but your voice trembles. Your arms somehow become entangled around his neck.
The boy grunts softly, sending a shiver down your spine. But then he begins to lower you, only instead of leaving you as you were before, he lays you down on the concrete floor, resting his weight on top of you.
The light from your abandoned phone's flashlight barely lets you see, but the darkness seems to engulf the boy's back. Then you feel it , and you groan.
The boy seems lost in the heat of the moment. You feel the blood rush to your cheeks, and a warmth settles in your center. His obvious arousal presses against your clothed crotch. You're embarrassed by how much this excites you. You do nothing to stop him; you even encourage him, practically panting in his ear at the position you're in as he makes slight hip movements.
The boy still doesn't see you. Hiding his face to the side of your neck.
Toby doesn't feel he can. He just can't, he doesn't want to stop. He tries to position himself better between your legs, as if he could slip through the layers of clothing and simply penetrate you. Hearing you gasp, he can only mimic your sounds with his own.
You feel something slide down your cheek, his sweat dripping onto you, and maybe some saliva. The boy moans along with you, which somehow manages to heat your body even more.
His hands slide down to your waist, squeezing to push himself against you, desperate for how close he feels. His hips move more erratically, your own entrance heating up with each thrust, you feel his bulge bumping against everything , moaning each time the fabric rubs against your clit. A wave of heat washes over you both, completely oblivious to where you are.
It bites again, almost in the same spot, leaving a trail of saliva and teeth on your shoulder.
- Toby…- you say with a dry throat, your legs finding a way to entwine themselves around his hips.
Calling him by his name gets his attention. You weren't expecting it, but in this situation, you can't complain. He kisses you. It's all teeth and tongue; he doesn't wait for you to reciprocate, he devours you. You feel his saliva stain your lips and your cheek on the side where he has the wound. It's messy; you feel like he's trying to choke you with his tongue the way it forces its way down your throat.
You feel it, the way his penis twitches beneath his clothes. Toby holds your hips in place with a plaintive groan against your lips, all tension and strength in his body vanishing. As he pulls away, your cheeks are wet. He buries his face in the crook of your neck again, breathing raggedly, but not agitated, just catching his breath.
Your mind seems to awaken from the numbness of what just happened. You surprise yourself when your hand moves to stroke that greasy hair.
You don't know how long they stay there, but it must be long enough for your phone to start ringing. Toby moves in fits and starts, giving you space to answer. You manage to sit down, your first instinct is to check your lightsaber , you sigh with relief when you see it's not yours. For a moment you imagined the most awkward situation possible, maybe Lyra calling again and you saying: Oh yeah, I think I just slept with your brother.
But it's not that, it's your regular phone that was tossed aside with the flashlight still on. You awkwardly move under Toby to pick it up, and when you look at the screen you see it's Eli.
- Hello.- you reply, clearing your throat "I can still feel it in my mouth ," you think, alarmed by the unusual viscosity in your mouth.
- Hey! Listen, is everything okay? I sent you messages to see if I should stop by and buy something when I get back, and you haven't replied.
- Huh? Oh, yeah, just now. We're done, this took a while.
- Okay. - The way she answers sounds more like a question. - I'll assume you don't need anything, but call me if anything happens, okay?
You sigh, tired. But you can understand their concern.
- Yes, we're going back. We're by the chimney passage.
Your gaze catches Toby's eye, and you're grateful he's not shining his bike light in your direction, because he'd see your face turn red. You look away, finding your own shoes more interesting.
- We are?
He asks you with a certain doubt in his tone.
- Yes, um, Toby is with me.- you clarify, swallowing hard, as if he could see you.
You hear Eli say something like, "Be careful." You just nod before saying yes , forgetting she can't see you. You hang up.
- I think so.- you begin, not daring to look at him.- It's faster if we go this way. Can you... can you bear it?
- Yes, of course.- His voice sounds calm, too calm. So calm that it's actually scary; you'd already gotten used to her uneven tone of voice.
- Yes, okay. Let's go.
You turn around as best you can in that small space, crawling on all fours with the lamp pointed straight ahead. For the first time, the silence is unsettling. You hear the boy creeping behind you, and occasionally the sound of his tics; perhaps it's your imagination, because you swear they're less frequent than before.
Upon reaching the wall, you feel along the edges until you find the latch that opens it. Now, the only thing standing between you and the freedom of that space is the fireplace grate you forgot to remove.
- Jesus!- you hear someone exclaim. When you look up, you see Brian half-lying on the couch, staring at you.- What are you doing there?
The question is genuine; you can tell the confusion is in her voice.
- We were cleaning. Can you help me with this?
You ask questions while moving the grate without wanting to knock it over. Why are your knees trembling?
The blond boy nods uncertainly, walking toward the fireplace. As he approaches, you feel something, or rather, someone bump into your rear end. Your first reaction is to kick backward to get him off you, but you miss. You're sure that was his face, and you're certain it wasn't an accident because of the way he pressed himself against you.
Finally, you drag yourself out of the passageway in too much of a hurry, wiping off what little you can of the clothes you're wearing—you were going to throw them in the washing machine anyway. Then you remember your collar. You pull your sweater up as high as you can, trying to disguise it as if you're just adjusting it.
- What are you doing there?- Brian asked in amazement, helping the boy out of the hole.
- I helped him with the *tic* cheating.
- Cheating?
- Yes.- you reply quickly.- That passageway leads to the woods and an old shed. I wanted to clean it, just in case.
You answer. You bite your tongue, not wanting to give any more details; you're not in the mood for a conversation right now. You notice the man's inquisitive gaze; for a moment you fear he's noticed something, but his gaze shifts to Toby.
- Did you voluntarily go into a narrow, dark place?- she asks, emphasizing the last words, truly not believing that the boy she knows would do it knowing he could have a panic attack in those kinds of places.
Toby smiles. A lopsided smile, one that widens only because of the wound that exposes his teeth, amused, mischievous. He shrugs, as if it's no big deal.
- It wasn't so bad.
- I'm going to take a bath. Yes. Powder and all that.
You announce yourself without expecting a comment from any of them. If you walk very fast or your footsteps are heavy, you hope they don't notice. You climb the stairs with a red face, still pulling the collar of your sweater up.
Once in your room, you lean against the door, running your still-dirty hands over your face. You begin to undress until you're down to your underwear, looking at yourself in the full-length mirror.
Damn it… he must have noticed.
Looking at your reflection, it's obvious something happened . Your face is red, and you have grime stuck to it from saliva. You hadn't noticed, but he bit your lip. That red wound above the center of your lip wasn't there before. Looking at your neck, you can clearly see the line of his crooked teeth marks.
The stitches on your arm have opened a little again; they'll definitely leave a scar from all the times you've had to open them. Not to mention the bruises from the "fall" down the stairs—they're not purple anymore, they're a sickly green, but you take it as a good sign since they don't even hurt. You're tempted to look at your back, but you decide against it.
You grab some wet wipes you have lying around and clean your hands. You look at your reflection again, slipping your hand between your legs. You can feel everything as soon as your fingers touch your lips; the poor fabric is damp everywhere you touch it, and when you pull your hand out, you see the stickiness of your own arousal clinging to your fingers.
The fact that it actually happened is ingrained in your bones. And you enjoyed it.
You hear your bedroom door creak. It snaps you out of your thoughts. Your first reaction is to grab the nearest piece of clothing and cover as much of your body as possible. The sweater barely covers what's necessary.
Just as you're about to scream, you see the cause of your disaster walk through that door. Your mouth moves like a fish in water. What are you supposed to say?
Toby closes the door behind him, his eyes never leaving yours, which makes you even more nervous. You take a step back as he walks into the room.
The boy nervously runs a hand along his neck, looking down as if he were embarrassed.
- I- I- I'm sorr- sorry.- he stutters, lowering his voice as if dragging it.
He really can't think. Not about anything else . He'd constantly replayed how you tried to calm him down. He'd wanted to just dismiss the events as the weird behavior of a weird girl. But he kept replaying it over and over in his head, maybe subconsciously, or maybe because of how good you made him feel . Down there, when you asked him to smell you. Suddenly he didn't feel so trapped anymore, he felt good, like you were giving him permission. And like most of his decisions in life, he didn't think about it, he just acted on what his body told him to do. Now all he knows is that he wants to feel that good again.
He doesn't usually feel the temperature; not at least when it's too high; but he could feel the heat of your body, the heat that radiated from between your legs when he pressed himself against you, that drove him crazy.
He simply refused to stop. But when he saw you running upstairs, he panicked. He hadn't been thinking about you at that moment, only about how he felt. Now he's afraid you'll hate him.
He raises his gaze again, trying his best to focus only on your face and ignore what you're trying to hide with that dirty sweater. He's not good with words, but he apologized, that's something, right?
- Yes, ha.- you say slowly, your legs unconsciously squeezing together. You can feel it; the heat is still there, the nerves, the excitement.
- Me too…
The twitch in her shoulder worsens; you even see her ankle buckle under her weight for a moment. You take a deep breath as if you're about to say something, but what are you supposed to say? Let's pretend it never happened, and if you could leave the room, please, because you've left me all worked up and I really need to do something about that now. Oh, by the way, next time let me know that apparently having an orgasm calms you down from a panic attack, okay?
No, saying that is not an option.
- * tic * I, really, I'm sorry. I just felt good.
- Stop.- you say in a quiet voice.
That seems to catch the boy's attention, making him think he should leave. He's panicking; he swears your voice sounded really harsh.
- YY- Yes, me- me-
- No.- With a sigh, you walk towards him, holding the sweater tightly against your chest to prevent it from falling.- Stop.
Once you're close, you take hold of his hand, which had started pulling hard at his hair. He probably didn't even realize he was doing it. Toby stays still, so still he seems to be frozen, while you gently loosen his grip and lower his hand.
- I'm not...- you try to keep your voice calm and low, finding the words, swallowing your nerves. "Okay."
You gently squeeze his sweaty hand to make him feel safe. Just as you think of pulling away, he takes hold of it, keeping it clasped in his.
- I li- like it. The way you make me s- feel.
You can't help but blush.
You swallow hard, watching as his hand grips yours. He doesn't even dare to look up, as if their clasped hands are the most interesting thing about them. You smile.
- Is it okay if I hug you?- The question feels more like consent. You're not sure if he likes physical contact, and you don't want to find out the hard way.
He doesn't say anything, he doesn't even nod. He just does it. Toby holds you tightly against his chest and you let your hands slide under his back, releasing the sweater that falls to both of your feet.
It smells the same as always, but its aroma is deeper now that you have it so close with nothing else to distract you: Earth, sweat, wood and the metallic scent of blood.
This is new to him. Now pay attention, he smiles as he understands what you meant by "Cherry Ice." The scent of your perfume is similar to the drink; it's cloying, though he thinks it goes well with your sweat. He inhales deeply, resting his chin on your shoulder, relaxed.
He's barely a head bigger than you, and you can feel him bending down to hug you. You run your hand down his spine, feeling each bone; just as you think about making a joke about how he should try to improve his posture. You feel him squeeze your waist much closer, until your pelvis definitely bumps against something that isn't a weapon.
Your face turns red with surprise . So fast? you think to yourself, lifting your feet slightly to rub your body against his. You hear him grunt, the vibration of his throat against your bare shoulder sending shivers down your spine.
You force yourself to separate enough so that your faces are level.
You kiss him.
It's still messy, but much more relaxed than in the passageway. You tilt your head to the side opposite his wound; it's strange how you feel a little air slipping into his mouth as you try to insert your tongue in the same way he did, lightly brushing against the poorly healed skin.
Perhaps it's because he still feels somewhat guilty, but he tries to move as little as possible while he's kissing you. That's why he was surprised when you started pulling him along, walking backwards to your bed.
Your legs bump against the edge of the mattress. You break away from the kiss, moaning as you feel him capture your lips with his teeth, his hands gripping your waist, not wanting you to pull away. You take his face in your hands to finally push him away, without taking your eyes off him, settling your body back on the sheets.
Finally, he understands, as he watches you lie back. You thought he would take off his clothes, but he just crawls over you, going down your neck, biting and licking where he had done before, his hands wandering up your arms to your hips where he stops, pressing his fingers against the skin over your bones.
One of his tics causes his head to bump against yours. He doesn't seem to notice until the next one, and it hurts when he hits you on the parietal region of your head.
- Ouch. - you complain, laughing a little.
- S-s-sorry.- he stammers, pulling away. His guilty look sends a tingle down your spine.
- Okay. - To emphasize what you're saying, you take one of her hands, pulling it up to your chest.
Just like before, it seems to be on pause. Like a deer targeted by headlights.
He presses, first lightly, testing the waters, then confidently caresses the fabric, pressing harder again. You blush, letting out a gasp; your legs involuntarily close at the sensation.
You reach behind your own back and with experience you simply unfasten the lock, giving yourself room to remove it.
Then you see him smile, that same mischievous smile. He tugs at your bra, pulling it to the side. You can feel him, licking, sucking, biting your breasts; supporting himself with one hand and using the other to touch every inch of them. You close your eyes, moaning from all the sensations. The scars and bandages on his hand send shivers down your spine as they brush against your nipples.
You squeal when he bites, but that pain feels good. You grab his hair, pulling him closer and pushing him away when he gets too close.
His hand leaves your breast, you feel it slide down to your entrance. Slipping his hand beneath the flimsy fabric. You hear him moan as his fingers slide easily inside you.
- Is this because of me?
The enthusiasm in his voice and the way he looks at you makes you nervous. His fingers curl inside you, his palm rubbing the outside of your vagina. You didn't think you could get any more nervous, but you swear that damn smile is widening.
He likes the way it feels. You're warm and sticky, your cushioned walls contracting over his fingers.
Then he goes down, takes his sticky hand off you, now hooking his hands on your thighs to open you up.
Your hips move as soon as you start kissing. Toby moans, his sounds muffled by how close his mouth is to your pussy; he tears the fabric with one hand and you don't even think to say anything. Your hands are still gripping his scalp.
He loves how soft you are under his hands, how the skin of your thighs lets itself be kneaded beneath them. He pulls back slightly just to bite between your thighs where you have more flesh, only to return, hungry, to your entrance, thrusting his tongue in as far as it can.
Desperate.
The way you squirm and contract on his tongue, he loves it .
One of his hands slips free, just to rub his thumb against your lips as he continues sucking, too close to your clitoris, but without touching it. It drives you wild, so you move your hips, trying to get him to rub against that spot more.
Their eyes met when you decided to open them, shivering. Toby had been watching your reactions, the way your face contorted with his actions. The boy pulled away, his cheeks and chin coated in his saliva, and your fluids.
You swallow, without taking your eyes off it.
- Don't stop. Please.
You plead, tugging at his hair, even knowing he can't feel it. The boy keeps smiling, running his tongue over his wound and up to his lips, savoring the taste you left there. To say it turns you on is an understatement.
His mouth returns. It's a mess; he starts pulling away for moments, murmuring, " Please, stay in my mouth ." Between stutters and gasps, you hear and feel him sucking and licking. Finally, he seems to find your clitoris, kissing it again and again until he notices the reaction it causes and clings on, sucking, his teeth brushing against it too hard, making you cry out.
You put a hand over your mouth because of it. Remembering that no matter how big the mansion is, they are not alone.
He laughs. He takes the hand that's tangled in his hair and intertwines it with his.
The other hand he had been using on your leg now penetrates you with his fingers, moving in and out, arching against your warm walls, fascinated by how they constantly contract around his fingers. If this is how you grip them, how would you grip his penis? The thought excites him so much, but he loves being down here. He starts moving his own hips too, rubbing himself as best he can against his pants and the mattress.
The pressure in your belly intensifies, your hips thrust forward, and your legs close, squeezing the boy's head perhaps too tightly. Toby moans, feeling like you want to suck on his fingers, but he doesn't stop. He just keeps going. You gasp, squeezing his hand, still wet with your arousal, his thumb brushing against yours as your orgasm washes over you. Your mind goes blank, only to be jolted back with another gasp.
He just keeps going. Eating like a starving man, wishing your walls would close in again, that your legs would crush his face as if trying to suffocate him.
- Toby.- you speak with a dry mouth, trying to get his attention.- Tob- Tobias.
You stutter when you feel it again. Your legs move as if you're trying to push him away, even though you don't want to; they just react. Your fingers curl, your hand leaves his head to grip the sheets while you hold on tightly to the one that's holding him.
You don't know how long they'll keep going like this. But it starts to get so bad that it begins to hurt; your legs have lost their strength, and your body's only reaction is spasms between each lick. Your hand had returned to her hair, gripping it perhaps too tightly because you felt yourself pulling out some of it. Your half-open mouth drips saliva that you can't stop; your breathing is only shallow, as if your lungs have forgotten how to breathe.
At this point, you're not even sure how many orgasms you've had. You feel tired, but you also don't want it to stop completely.
- T- Toby.- you stammer pleadingly, pulling at his hair, but he doesn't feel it.
Finally, you do something that does capture their attention. You let go of their hand.
He emerges from between your legs, staring at you like a beaten puppy, his eyes wide and bewildered. His face is smeared and sticky, and you're not sure how much of it is you and how much is his saliva. He's a wet, flushed mess.
- I'm tired.- your murmur is weary between gasps. You bring your hand to her uninjured cheek, gently caressing it, removing some of the stickiness from it.
Toby nods, too slowly as if he's processing it. You watch him, his mouth moving as if he's trying to say something, he grunts in annoyance; you see him bring his hands to his chin and head, clicking his jaw, which makes you gasp, unsure what to say. Did his jaw really lock from...?
Without saying a word, he crawls over you, until his face is on your bare chest.
You sigh in relief, but as he settles in you can feel his bulge against your leg.
Hasn't he...? The question floats in your mind, surprised. You just think it wouldn't be fair. So you reach for his pants, trying to unbutton them.
At first he seems puzzled, but when their eyes meet he seems to understand. He gets up to unbutton his pants. But then you remember something important.
- Damn, wait.- you say, stopping his hands.- I don't have one. Well...
You pronounce nervously.
- I don't have any condoms.- you say, a little embarrassed and nervous.- Or the morning-after pill. But I can...
You murmur, eyeing the lump with a hint of doubt. You've never performed oral sex, but admitting it out loud at that moment embarrasses you. Your gaze returns to his face; his doubtful expression shifts to a smile. It's not like the ones you used to share, but it still makes you nervous because it seems he has an idea, and you're unsure how good that might be.
- There's no need.- he says simply. He pushes you until you're lying down on your bed.- Look at me.
The way she says it is intense. Her eyes direct your gaze to her hips.
Toby starts unbuttoning his pants, pulling them down in one swift motion along with his underwear. The thing just springs out. Veins marking a path down the shaft, swollen and red at the tip. You don't move, you just watch, swallowing hard.
He's masturbating. Right there, in front of you. His bruised, scarred hand, squeezing and pulling, seems to be taking its time. One of his hands goes to your stomach, caressing it, putting some weight on it, rubbing where you have bruises. Loud, broken moans escape his lips along with his tics, like high-pitched sounds.
There's nothing you can do but stare, your face red.
His penis dripped. Thick and creamy from his fist. Panting and moaning with that smile, watching you .
- They're going to hear us.- you say worriedly, as if you hadn't done the same thing a while ago. But that only makes it worse; maybe not on purpose, but you swear her moans are louder.
You watch him squeeze his penis, his thumb stroking the tip, spreading precum all over the head. His hips move unevenly, pushing against his clenched fist. He leans slightly over you. You feel it, the warm, sticky fluid dripping onto your belly, making you moan. The smells of the room just rush through your nostrils: sweat, his semen, your own ejaculation.
You gasp. The hand that was on you spreads his semen over your belly, up to your breasts, kneading it, as if he wanted to cover you with it while he continues to pull his penis until the last drop.
He likes the way you look. Lying there with your face red and your pussy swollen, your legs marked by his kisses and bites. He just wants to fill you with him , he wants you to feel him .
Toby lies back down on top of you when he's finished, with a grunt. He rests his head on your now sticky chest, his breathing too calm for what you've just done. As if he weren't even tired.
His hand wanders over your belly, carelessly spreading his seed across your body, just playing. He wants to leave you smelling of him, wants to fill you more, even more. You say nothing, you let him, swallowing as you feel the stickiness drying on you.
He trembles, his tics make his bones click, his mouth makes random little sounds that make you smile like an idiot. His leg seems to have involuntary spasms that make it bump against yours. But they aren't erratic, they feel… calm.
You stroke the mess in her hair, your fingers carefully untangling the knots.
- Tell me I didn't screw up. - he says after a long silence.
You exhale with understanding. You stop stroking his head to playfully squeeze his cheeks with one hand and make him look at you.
- Of course not… You were amazing, really.
You can see his expression change; he seemed uncertain, even guilty, but soon it fills with an enthusiasm that warms your heart. For a moment, you imagine a happy dog's tail following him.
- Really? - The hope and relief in her voice makes you smile.
- Yes. But we need to take a bath.
You see him frown. He hugs you tightly, pressing your body against his, turning you over until you're on top of him. You can feel his limp member bump against your legs.
- Stay.- he asks, not letting go. His eyes pleading. His fingers drum nervously at your sides in the middle of the embrace, waiting for your answer.
You sigh with a smile. Well, if there's one thing you've learned as a nanny, it's how to negotiate.
We have dust from the passageway. And you absolutely must let me wash these clothes.
You say, holding the collar of his sweatshirt, that he's clearly seen better days. You see him frown, pouting, maybe trying to think of an excuse to keep you there. You keep talking.
What if I suggest we take a bath together? Besides, I won't let you walk around naked, so you can stay here overnight.
You press your lips together, trying not to laugh at his reaction. A genuine look of happiness. You definitely won him over.
The bathroom isn't in your room; you have to walk all the way to the other end of the hall. So you practically wrap yourself in your comforter (which you definitely need to wash) and peek out into the long hallway to make sure no one's around. Especially because you're worried about running into the other guys who must be in the room next to the bathroom.
They stumble down the hall to the last door. Toby follows, clutching the end of the quilt to cover himself, his pants still tangled around his legs; they look ridiculous. You don't even knock to see if anyone's there, you just rush in and close the door as soon as they're inside.
You can't help but laugh at the situation; you're sneaking around your own house, into your own bathroom, as if a parent might walk in at any moment to ask what's going on. You're not sure if Toby understands why you're laughing, but he laughs along with you.
And... now for those who are reading the whole story, please wait a few days, or weeks, or maybe months for the next chapter... sorry :p
Y... ahora para los que estan leyendo la historia completa, esperen unos dias, o semanas o quiza meses para el próximo capítulo... lo siento :p
