The Pretender (Trigger Alert & NSFW)

He is laying down while I grip him with every wall muscle I could use.  All inches are in me and I am disgusted.  The client told me he is pervert.  I figured he is a pedophile.  Or was it a pederast?  Or is it a hebephile?  I forget, but this man is inside of me and I can feel my skin crawl. Buddy, your little death will have to wait, because I am gripping just for the right moment. 

Waiting for that moment your eyes roll to the back of your head. Wait!  There it is! They’re moving backwards.
I reach back to my Etsy book bag with Pikachu on it.  I bought it to get the look just right.  He told me I looked like one of his students when I first walked into his bungalow.  At the door he stopped me and observed me.  He began looking at me up and down like he lost something and my track pants and UFC t-shirt from Wal-Mart held it. He looked at my face that I shaved three days earlier to let stubble grow to make it look like the facial pubic hair a friend use to tease me about.  He smiled as he caressed my face.

He smiled.

I pretended to blush.  He moved his hands from my face to my back.  He rubbed it reaching underneath my book bag and above my shirt.  His hand went lower and my butt clinched.  He continued and lifted the back of my shirt up.  He began to rub my skin.  My damn skin.

He then pressed the lower of my back.  He went in for the kiss and I inched away with my head lowered in visible shame.  He then slowly reached for my chin and held my head up. He smiled and gave me a kiss.  And sometime over the span of the three minutes of this one-sided kiss, he began to devour my face.  

I am a grown man, and I know how to kiss.  I know how to grip the lower lip and sink my body into theirs.  But I pretended to tense up and he moved his hands down my back and he grabbed my ass.  Then he began to move it and slap it as he laughed in delight.  Every lift pushing up my book bag full of books from the library and his special gift.

I got hard.  

I was ashamed for this.  He laughed as he saw my erect penis through my track pants. His hands pulled my pants down to my Vans.  I had Batman drawers on.  His face made a smirk as he looked down.  Was he smiling at my underwear? 

I wanted to cry. 

He began to suck my dick.  I moaned.  I would like to say I pretended to moan.  But I really moaned.  Something about his lips touching my newly waxed crotched and grabbing my waxed ass turned me on. He got up wiping my precum off his mouth.  

He looked at me.  His eyes, they changed.  He was no longer that docile instructor I saw in his pictures he sent to me responding to my ads on BackPages.  

I wonder why my client wanted me to use BackPages?  It took me three months to bag this motherfucker. It wasn’t until I lied and told him I was 16 that he invited me over. So he is an ephebophile or pederast from what I could find on Wikipedia.  But God I don’t care.  I never said I was over the age of 18 and he is going to die today.  The faster the better

His eyes were darting and piercing.  Seeking and collecting my assumed innocence.  If I wasn’t me, I would be afraid. But this was me and I was damn close to a bagging this man.  I pretended to back up and he pulled me in and forced his tongue down my throat.  I squirmed and he knew it. I felt his smile.

He backed up and unbuttoned his shirt which allowed me to breathe.  His body is nice.  I gingerly reached to touch his abs as he unbuckled his pants.  He smiled, but it wasn’t the same smile from before. Did it change when I squirmed?  He then pulled my half-naked body into his nude body.  I tensed up and I felt like I had to fart.  I asked to use the bathroom.  He held me tighter and whispered, “No” into my ear.  I let it out.

I thought, ‘Damn it! I fucked up.’

He raised his nose in the air and sniffed hard and smiled with his new smile.  He then dug his face into mine in a way that would make me scream if I could’ve been me at that moment.  I am pretending to like this pervert.  He smiled at my farting.  I wanted to throw up and I was visibly shaken and he then rubbed my arms.  

He then tried to take my shirt off, which would take my Pokemon backpack off. I waved his hands away and shook my head no in a lowly fashion.  He chuckled.  He chuckled.  He held my hands like I was his child crossing the street.  He walked me to the back of the Hallway where there is a closeddoor with a red x printed on a piece of paper. We turned right into the room next to it.  

The bedroom he takes me into stretches to my left, so the room with the piece of paper on the door must be really small, because the room to the left of it extends right upon entry from what I could see.  As well, this is an apartment so there can’t be a basement.  If it is a closet, why is there an x mark on it. 

He laid on the bed and completed his transformation.  He went from that man trying to entice me and secure me at the door to a sly bull.  He laid on bed and before I could securely place the book bag and shirt on the bed, which is something I would’ve questioned if I was him, he forced my head to his smarmy pale dick.  

It’s uncut.  Oh god!  It’s uncut.  I jerked my head back and spat in my hands to jerk the cheese off his already hard dick.  I am not putting my mouth on that.

The rubber dick ring makes for texture confusion.  It is something I definitely noticed as I jerked him.  But it is interesting to see three different colors in front of me.  Only one color was in motion.  That’s how I planned to leave this day.  I thought this day would end with one color in motion, but I could’ve been wrong.

I glanced to my right after checking my 9 and he was there looking at me with disgust.  The smirk, the affection, and something I could not put my hand on was all gone.  But it wasn’t replaced, just sat down.  Like a mop that we in the cleaning closet after we are done using it.  The instructor was gone, yet oh so present.  This is the same man.  I just witnessed a de-cocooning. Remove the wings from a butterfly and you have a caterpillar.  A beast with its belly on the ground.

What I saw looking at me was shame, guilt, and fear.  Not the fear of consequences, but fear of acts.  Acts we commit when we think no one is looking.  A jerk in the bathroom before school, an itch in the locker room, a kiss from a male friend, and a long hug from a best friend.  

He was judging me.  

He motioned his hands for me to get on the bed.  I attempted to lay beside him and he irritatingly moved me in a sitting position on his stomach.  He told me to jump.  Jump.  Jump like I am playing horsey.

I jump and I feel his dick jumping.  Not jumping along with me, but to a different rhythm.  The rhythm of the figure in front of me.  At that moment, I slowly began realizing I could no longer identify the person in front of me. Yet I still knew the person in front of me.

He reached for the lube.  My heart began to beat at an alarming rate as I embrace for what was to come.  He fingered the tip of my asshole.  I let him know I don’t have a lot of experience as I gripped my asshole pretending that this is one of my first few times fucking.  He frowned and pursed his lips.

“I’ll teach you.” He said.

I lifted my head up trying to not giggle out loud. It wasn’t a giggle from the humor of how he said and what he said, but because nigga I am going to kill you.  And he doesn’t even know.

I pretended to moan as he tried to finger me. He got his middle finger inside of me.  It felt good and I felt embarrassed.  I moaned and he growled something.  I don’t know what he said, but all know is that he growled it!

He then slowly pushed me back towards a position over his erect dick.  This is the most gingerly he has been to me since the door.  I breathed in and apart of me wanted to cry, but I made an obligation. However, tears still welled up in my eyes.  He held his dick to a position where the tip of it was right below the threshold of my asshole. 

Oh god!

The tip slid in.  

I thought, ‘Fuck! I wasn’t paying attention.’ 

I pretended to jump in pain, but with a swiftness he held my hips down.  My eyes bucked in surprise, anger, and confusion.  I was actually confused.  But more so, I am angry.  He told me to just relax and the pain would go away.  It didn’t.  The lube is numbing, but for some reason, this still hurts.  I feel betrayed by the man I am going to kill.

Reaching back may have applied more pressure to him because he is ready to pop.  He is moaning, demanding, twisting, and thrusting.  

No rubber however.  I am a damn fool. 

He is too busy screaming and yelling commands at me to jump horsey to hear the bag unzip as it lays at the bottom of his bed.  As if it was Naomi trying to save Ruth in Bethlehem.  Save me Naomi please!  I chuckle inside my head.

I feel the leather sheath.  And I pull out my dick.  I place it over my head.  The glorious halo. My angel of death.  

The angel cry it makes as I release my dick  brings him to attention.  Diverting his eyes from the back of his head to his collector. 

My angel if death has awoken.

The horn has been sounded.

I feel a calm set over me.  A relief.  An anxiety about the boredom that I will have to embrace after killing him.  Tears well up in his eyes again.  In them, I see his fear of consequences for the first time. In the reflection his eyes I see my determination.

My angel swoops down for its collection.  My dick pierces his chest.  He wrenches in pain.  His eyes speak to me.  They say I am confused.  They say I am angry.  They say I am surprised.  But most importantly, they say I am betrayed.  I twist the knife and I hear bones and organs move.  Blood still gushing out his chest.  The special place set for release that my dick has made.  The angel is collecting.  

As he collect, so do I.  Whatever pills he took is working great.  With his blood, I twist at my dick with my free hand while riding this swampy pale dick.  I no longer have to pretend.  Then I realize that I never pretended.  This is what I came for.  

Finally, I see it.  Not one color.  Not one.  Three colors are now moving on his dead pale body.  

Thank you angel.