WARNING: I'm not really shy about the language I use, so there is cursing. There is also sex (right from the start) – thus the rating "M" Chapter 1

I need to be reminded every time, I thought while his thrusts were getting more and more violent, I always forget how deep. I could not even feel his dick anymore. There was only the burning movement of pleasure-pain, the scream of my raw flesh. From the way he moved I could tell he was getting close and I trembled at the thought of being filled with cum like a whore. That little mental picture took me over the edge and my hole tightened, making Greg groan deeply and fuck me even harder and deeper.

'Becoming one' bullshit. This is the kind of feeling that makes you forget all but yourself. My mind was delirious while I felt my fantasy becoming reality. Sticky, milky fluid filled both my navel and my ass. Feeling used is not a bad feeling… at least when it comes to this type of scenario.

He was still inside me, and even his softened dick was making me tremble.

I looked at the clock: it was almost 11 A.M.

He pulled out from me and grabbed a napkin to clean himself. We would shower later. Together, of course. How could I ever let such an opportunity slip by? Seeing something classically erotic like a gorgeous man dripping with water is one of the things that make your day.

Ah… This is the life, I thought, Saturday morning sex with a hot blond god. All I need now is sinking my teeth in some caramel donuts…

"Hey, Greg…" I mumbled, even the words were too lazy to come out clearly.

"What is it, Kitten?"

"Let's go out for donuts and coffee."

Gregory turned on his side and stared at me with his half closed baby blues. The autumn sun's rays fell in strips on his sculpted upper chest that was still shinning with sweat. Ah…. A god…

"No."

"Huh? Why not? Do we have other plans for today?"

"No. It's just that… how should I put it…You know I love you, but…"

"Yeah…" I said and felt that my bright mood was growing cloudy. I had never trusted sentences that start like that. First of all, expressing your feelings in the beginning of a conversation never bodes well for a relationship. Secondly all that is constructed on the model: 'variable A' BUT 'variable B', where variable A is something positive always means that variable B is something horribly negative which will simply ruin everything. I usually don't stick around long enough to even hear what variable B is all about, so to say, but on that Saturday morning I figured that I need to listen to it, even if I was sure it would be something apocalyptic. 'I love you, but…' is the worst possible application of the model mentioned earlier. I was right, of course….

"But you are getting very fat," he said and even dared to place a bit of pity in his voice.

Not so random fact: I had just returned from a 4 day visit home. My family has an eating "fetish" and I barely escaped from their "get some meat on your bones" clutches.

Take a deep breath Jason, a deep breath. Count to 10…. Or to 100…. Just stay calm… He's a gorgeous god…. You know that his manners or intelligence are NOT his strong points…. Mildly said…. Count to 100, Jason, and take very deep breaths.

"Oh...." That was the most positive answer I could muster.

"You know why I love you so much? Do you know, Kitten?" Greg continued in a way that sounded like he did not only deliberately walk on a mine field, but he was also jumping around on it, while singing happy children's songs.

"No…" Wasn't I being masochistic? I knew it that whatever he had to say was not something I had to hear, but at that point I was just too curios of how badly he can screw things up.

"I love that you are so beautiful and so submissive." He said and then dared to smile lovingly and pinch my left cheek. "I thought that being with another man meant I would never have a comforting presence around me, like only a nice wife can provide. That was one of the things that scared me and kept me from admitting to myself that I was gay."

Fact: I had always been submissive with Greg, but ONLY in bed.

I kept my face neutral as I asked him to explain further. He didn't realize that his every word was making this almost-fight seem increasingly like a break-up waiting to happen.

"Now that I think about it… You helped me not feel any less as a man even if I'm gay. You know what I mean?"

"Oh! It's because I'm so much like a woman?"

"Yes, exactly. I knew you'd understand. You know about feelings and stuff… See? Even that is like a woman."

"So I'm like a woman?"

"No, no…" Greg finally figured that I might be upset by his conclusions so he tried to explain it better "you don't look or act like a woman. You know I don't like effeminate men, Kitten…"

"Then what do you mean?"

"It's just that you share some personality traits with women. Like how you are so wanton and submissive and how you like to cuddle and to make sure all the dishes are washed…Like… you know… like how you let me be the guy in our relationship… other men can't stand that…"

"Oh…And you like that about me?" I asked in a relief filled voice that was entirely fake.

"Yes. That's what I love about you."

"I make you feel manly…"

"Yes you do, my little cuddly Kitten…" He pinched my cheek again and then gave me a sweet little kiss.

It was a beautiful morning. Disgustingly so. I could even hear birds singing. How cliché was that?

Greg apparently thought the conversation was over and he burrowed himself deeper in the mattress, holding me in a half-hug. I stretched a bit, keeping my body very very relaxed. Loosing my temper meant blood, which meant more blood. I have learned that lesson early in my childhood. I still couldn't stop my mind from replaying my lover's words over and over again.

He obviously doesn't truly love me. He is just confusing the good feeling he has when in my presence with love, but it's actually just that I'm someone comforting, unthreatening. A sort of gay wife, huh?

I turned my head a bit and looked at his shoulder length bleached hair and his golden tanned perfect skin. I wanted to go out with him at first because of his looks. Who wouldn't? I doubt he had ever known rejection. After we went out a couple of times I had started liking him more and I jumped at the opportunity of being more than just his fuck buddy. He had very nice manners and I loved how he could be so old-fashioned about dealing with a lover: he constantly bought me red roses, paid for me when eating out, and even opened doors for me. I usually purposely act effeminate when I go to gay bars in order to be sure that I pick up a guy who is a top and who would act all manly around me. I adore protective, manly guys. I also hate having to be concerned about where to go fuck, if I have enough money for drinking and paying for a room, about whether or not the guy I'm with likes this or that during sex…. Therefore I act like a total bottom. When I met Greg I was not using my pick-me-up persona because we met at a friend's birthday party and I obviously act natural around my friends.

He was the only guy with whom I acted like myself since the very beginning. I even avoided telling him about my method of cruising for sex. But he's with me for the most stupid reasons.

I looked at him again. It was a fine morning. I had a nice man in my bed. I knew that he didn't try to offend me. How did this conversation even start? Ah… I wanted to go for donuts. He called me fat. Then he tried to sweeten things up by calling me a submissive wife. Can he actually use his brain? Or did his neurons get expelled together with his cum?

It really was annoying that he thought of me like that, but should I mind? If I was being honest to myself I had to admit that the damned guy was also very convenient for me too. That's why I'm a bottom, right? Because it's simple. It means that I just go along with what the other guy wants and if something goes wrong I can just blame him and split up. But Greg has only met me as I truly am… hasn't he?

The more I thought about it the more I realized that Greg just saw my true personality as the mask and thought that my please-protect-me persona is the real me. This would be true for most people who exhibit characteristics of both personalities. It's only natural to assume that I am weak and womanly but I want people to see me as a man.

"Greg…"

"Yeah…"

"Do you really love me?"

"Of course I do, Kitten. Didn't I just tell you?"

"But you also said I'm getting fat."

"I told you that because I love you and I want to make sure that you never stop being as pretty and healthy as you are now."

Fact that a lover should know after being with me for almost a year: I have an awesome metabolism. I can eat very much and then not eat almost at all for a week. I can eat all the time and not gain weight at all. The only exception to the rule is when my family feeds me.

Fact that probably people are too thick to notice: My weird metabolism runs in my family. As a result they know all the tricks to actually controlling my body fat to perfection.

Fact that is true for most families: They want me fat.

"But Greg…"

He mumbled a "yeah" while sucking on my neck.

"Greg… I wanna eat a donut…"

Yeah… I was totally testing him… I just got a theory and I wanted to prove it.

"Well… I'm telling you that you are not allowed to."

Oooo… So now you're ordering me….

"Why? Wouldn't you love me anymore if I got a little fat?"

Greg stopped teasing my nipples and finally looked at me. "Of course I would still love you, but my dick might not get hard anymore when I see you naked."

Asshole.

I pouted. "I won't get that fat from just a donut."

"If you always give in to your cravings you will!"

Idiot. If I would give in to my cravings……pfff…

"Pretty please… just a donut…" I was giving him puppy eyes and begging cutely.

"No, Kitten. You are not allowed to eat a donut now. We must take care of you."

Moron. Telling me it's not "allowed"? Let's see how much you are capable of playing this daddy role.

"How about we make a deal?" I said, while biting my lower lip and looking up at him through my eyelashes.

"What deal?"

"I'll go along with whatever kink you might think of for a donut."

Let's go with good old Freud. You can tell a lot about a man from knowing his sexual fantasies. Let's see just what my boyfriend is really thinking deep down.

"Hmmm….I don't know…"

He's looking weary… I should suggest something to see how he reacts…

"How about I dress up as a woman? You would like that right?"

He looked at me suspiciously, probably feeling that after trying to calm me down that I'm not a woman in his mind making me dress up like one is probably a bad idea. I could almost see the wheels spinning in his head. He wasn't that stupid after all... I wouldn't have ever liked a guy who's all looks.

"I don't think women's clothes would look that good on you."

True. They don't. Let's try a different approach.

"You really don't like how I look! I knew it! You think I would look ridiculous as a woman!" I turned my back to him.

"Oh, Kitten… I didn't mean it that way. You are so beautiful, but you don't look womanly…"

I was just about to decide that he had managed to pass my test when he added something that really spooked me.

"… How about we do something that we would both really like instead? How about I tie you up and fuck you really hard?"

I turned to look at him and he was smiling slightly, a glint in his eyes telling me that he was really into this kind of stuff.

"I know you would really like it. You just have to let everything up to me and just lose control."

I must not ever lose control of myself, Greg. It wouldn't be a fun night.

"No. I don't like that kind of stuff. Don't assume."

I was very serious but he chuckled.

"That's what they all say till they know how good it feels. Jason, I know you… you like taking it so much. You would just love to take more."

My boyfriend is a fucking dominator and a possible closeted sadist. The though made me realize what an idiot I've been all my life. Taking the easy way and letting your partner take control was the worst possible way for me to find the kind of guy I needed. Being like this means that all the men I get close to are like this… the nice ones, actually.

This was of no concern to me up to this point, because I was enjoying myself, because it is easy not to have to be in control of everything, but I could never let myself in a situation like that – tied up and at someone's mercy. He doesn't even understand the difference between wanting to be in control of my mind and body and wanting to be in control of my environment. In regards to day to day things I don't really care about who is in charge. I like not having to bother with them. But I am not truly submissive. What kind of Dom doesn't see that?

Taking the easy way and letting my partner be in charge also seems to mean that I'm not really letting him see me. I had believed that among all my lovers Greg was the only one who did know everything about me, everything I could let people know about me, that except a few little things he was able to really understand me. I also though I understood him. I was obviously wrong on both accounts.

"Greg, let's break up."

"WHAT? Where did that come from? I'm sorry if I offended you… I didn't mean to say that…"

"Greg… just forget it… We don't need to go through a long conversation. I just realized after everything we talked this morning that we are not suited for each other and never will be."

"What the fuck? Why are you so mad? We both know you are a little slut in bed. Why are you denying it now?"

"OK, Greg… Let me make things easy to understand. I want to fuck your nice, tight ass, that I know for sure is not exactly virginal. I will not break up with you if you let me fuck you." I said staring intensely into his gorgeous eyes. "And afterwards we go for donuts and coffee" I added quickly before the silence spread too much.

"No!" He exclaimed, looking as though I had asked for something completely unfair.

"Why not? Don't you value our relationship this much?"

"It's because I value our relationship that I'm saying no to you. It's just not the way things are between us. I would seem forced and wrong."

I smiled. "Well said. I totally agree."

I got out of bed and started getting dressed.

"What? Then why…"

"Because I would. Fuck you, I mean. I would enjoy fucking you a lot. But you had no clue that I even thought about it, isn't it so?"

"I don't get it."

"Exactly. You don't."

Ah… It's a beautiful morning…

"I'm going to eat a donut. Don't follow me. Never call me again. You can throw away all the stuff I left here and I will mail all the things you left at my place."

"Have you gone insane? Is it about the donut, Jason? You can't be leaving me because of….."

"Goodbye, Greg." I cut him off and looked at his godly appearance once more. He had got up from bed and was gloriously naked.

Such a hottie…It's too bad, really…But I don't think I ever even came close to loving him… No loss here…

"Kitten! Kitten! Wait a sec… Kitten…" he yelled after me. The pet name stopped me. I turned and smiled sweetly.

Fact: I'm a werewolf.

Additional fact: I hate felines and every time I see one of these disgusting creatures I verbalize my intense dislike.

I gave Greg the finger, took a step back while still smiling, opened the door, stepped through it and slammed shut… a bit too hard. I had managed to destroy its hinges and it just fell on the other side, almost crushing my brand new ex-boyfriend.