Page 80 of Demon of Dreams

“I want this,” I whispered.

“And I want you,” Chad said. He leaned in and licked a long stripe along my cock.

I whimpered, then clapped a hand over my mouth, looking towards the curtain again. “They might hear us,” I hissed at Chad.

“That’s part of the fun.” He grinned. “We’re both eighteen. Nothing illegal about it. Let ‘em listen.”

My stomach twisted with a new fear—what if hewantedus to get caught? But no, he couldn’t really, right? That was insane.

He pulled at my pants and boxers, still bunched around my ankles, and tossed them aside, next to my crumpled T-shirt on the floor. He brought his hands to my torso next.

“Here, spin around.”

“I—what?” I said, as he moved me so I was lying back on the bench, lengthwise. My legs dangled over the edge, and the next thing I knew, he was spreading them apart, his hands hot on my thighs. He slid his hands underneath my legs, then tugged sharply, bringing my ass right to the edge of the bench.

My stomach turned a somersault as he leaned in and put his lips on the tip of my cock again. It was so warm and wet, and it tugged at something in the core of my being, like he was unlocking a room inside me that I’d never known existed.

Chad slid his tongue up and down my shaft, then sank his mouth around me again, sheathing me in pleasure. When he pulled back and teased the head of my cock, my thighs began to shake. It felt so good. Too good. I was so close to coming.

And then, as he took me all the way down again, I felt something new. Chad’s fingers, firm and slick, playing with my balls, then moving past them, back to—oh, holy shit. I gasped as his finger brushed across my asshole.

No way. He couldn’t be about to—but he did. He rubbed a little circle against my hole, putting pressure on the very center.

Oh God, oh God. I couldn’t let him do that, could I? It was one thing to let him suck me off, another thing entirely to—

Let a man enter you?said a cruel voice in the back of my mind.Let him see what you really are? Not a real man. Just a slut who deserves to be fucked by one. A slut who spreads his legs and begs men to come inside

It was such a cruel thought, and it sent a bolt of electricity through me, turning me on even more. I wanted this so badly.

I glanced down and caught sight of Chad. His left hand was pumping his own cock furiously, like teasing my hole was the hottest thing he could imagine. He brought his right hand back to his mouth, slipping his index finger inside, pulling it out again covered in spit.

My stomach clenched. The moment I let this happen was the moment I lost all plausible deniability. But I couldn’t stop it—not when I wanted it this much. The last of my resistance gave way as Chad’s finger pushed inside me. I gave a cry that was half desire, half desperation, as my muscles relaxed and his finger slid all the way in, like it belonged there.

On the other side of the curtain, I heard a hush. The people closest to the stage must have heard me. Must be wondering what was going on.

Or maybe they already knew?

The thought sent panic through my body, but Chad’s finger was working in and out of me, easing me open, showing me what I was meant for. His mouth moved back to my cock, and I was so, so close.

“We should stop,” I gasped, more because I knew Ishouldsay it than because I wanted to.

“Why?” Chad asked, his finger twisting and teasing inside me.

“Because they can hear us.”

“Good,” he said, still stroking his own cock. “Maybe I want them to.”

He leaned down, his tongue caressing my balls as a soft chime went off in the auditorium and the house lights dimmed once, twice, three times. There were only two minutes left until curtain. Any minute now, the actors would be taking their places.

There was pressure at my hole again, and I felt myself stretch to accommodate a second finger. It was wet, so wet, but it was still a lot to take. Again, I moaned in spite of myself, and a gasp from the other side of the curtain told me people were definitely listening now.

I needed to stop this, needed to… but my thoughts faded to an incoherent buzz as heat built up inside me. I didn’t want to stop. I wanted Chad to keep touching me, keeping fingering me until I—

“Cory? Chad? What are you boys doing out here? You know you have to—”

Mr. Manfredi’s voice drifted across the stage, followed by his footsteps, but he stopped abruptly when he saw what we were doing. Or, rather, what Chad was doing, and what I was having donetome. What I was accepting.

“Boys, stop that this instant. You can’t just—”

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