Page 10 of Demon of Dreams

I’d been grateful when he died. Maybe that made me a bad person, but he was dead.Dead. So why did I have to hear him in my head?

“Open up.” My gaze jerked upwards, and the driver’s hard cock brushed against my lips. “Open up now and suck me off.”

My mouth dropped open in surprise, and the head of his cock slipped between my lips of its own accord.

“That’s it. Now keep going,” the driver commanded. He slid his cock a little deeper into my mouth in encouragement.

I stared up at him in confusion, wondering how I’d gotten into this situation. Waiting for the disgust to rise up again. Waiting to pull away from him, to refuse, to tell him no.

Instead, I leaned forward and took more of his cock into my mouth. It filled the space, hot and hard, and I couldn’t even get all the way down on it before it hit the back of my throat. I tried to swallow, and gagged around it instead.

The driver laughed, and thrust his hips forward, the tip of his cock reaching my throat again. That only made me gag harder, and by the time he pulled out, his cock was coated in spit. I looked up at him, across his hairy belly, his body impossibly tall from this angle. He leered.

“Get going,” he said. “I’m not letting you up ‘til you get me off.”

It’s not real, I reminded myself. This was my dream. I was the one in control. Which must mean…I liked this?

“Every boy learns this at some point,” the driver continued, his left hand digging into my shoulder. “And you don’t want me to get rough with you, do you? Don’t want to learn the hard way?”

Revulsion rolled through my body. This was disgusting. Wrong. Shameful.

And so incredibly hot.

I leaned forward and took the head of his cock into my mouth again, dripping with spit and the tang of precum. It should have been revolting. It should have turned my stomach. But all it did was make me want more.

“There you go,” the driver said as I took him deeper. “Just like that.”

His right hand slid behind my head, twisting in my hair. I ran my tongue along the underside of his cock as he penetrated my mouth. The tip scraped the back of my throat again. I gagged—and my cock throbbed.

He noticed. “Told you you’d like it. Go on, son. Show me how much you like serving a real man.”

I froze, looking down. My cock stood at attention, a long strand of pre-cum running from the tip down to the grimy tile floor. Fuck, I didn’t want him to see that. Didn’t want anybody to see that, not even myself. I didn’t want to know how much I liked this.

I grabbed my cock, and the touch of my fingers was almost too good, but that wasn’t the point. I shifted, spreading my thighs apart, and shoved my cock down, trapping it between them. It wasn’t particularly comfortable, but at least it got it out of the way.

My hand was now slick with pre-cum. I brought it up and stroked the driver’s cock with it.

“That’s it,” he said, that lecherous laugh snaking out of his mouth again. “You know just what I like.”

It took me a while to get the hang of sucking him off while holding my legs tense enough that my cock stayed trapped. Every time I leaned in, my cock threatened to slip free of its prison. Worse, the friction between my thighs felt incredible, which was fucked up, and wrong, and pathetic, and heavenly.

I closed my eyes, trying to concentrate on what my mouth was doing, but that was hardly any help. The tang of the driver’s sweat, the slightly sour scent of his skin, the girth and length of another man’s cock in my mouth—it was almost overwhelming.

How had I never done this before?

How could I want to do it now?

Eventually, the driver got tired of my careful stance, of the way my body was frozen, trying not to stimulate my cock too much. He brought both hands to the back of my head and pulled me forward with a jerk. His cock went straight down my throat, deeper than it had ever gone before.

“You little slut,” he grunted, shoving his cock in and out of my mouth. “Knew you what you were the second you got in my car. Knew you wanted this, to be on your knees in front of a real man. Little whore.”

Fear flared in my chest. Not because of what was happening, or even what he was saying, but because ofhowhe said it. It was the driver talking, but I heard the words in my father’s voice.

Shame and nausea mixed with pleasure. My cock was so hard, throbbing against my thighs, and the more he talked, the closer I got to the edge.

“Knew what you needed. Knew someone needed to break you in. Show you what you really are. Show—you—you’re—fuck.”

He came in a rush, hot cum releasing so deep in my throat I could barely taste it. The next second, I was coming too, spilling cum into the crease between my thighs. His cock pulsed in my throat, emptying itself, and my cock responded in kind. I closed my eyes. I couldn’t think, couldn’t speak. All I could do was feel, floating on waves of oblivion and ecstasy.

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