Page 15 of Side Out

“Run.”

Maneater - Nelly Furtado

CHAPTER10

RUNNING.

JACKSON

Am I dressed as Patrick Star?

?*Yes.

Am I running through the woods being chased by my hot neighbor in a mask?

Also yes.

Do I care about any possible judgment?

Not one bit.

RUNRUNRUN - Dutch Melrose

CHAPTER11

WE CAN’T BE DOING THIS

THEODORE

Behind Jax’s house is a tree line of huge live oaks, longleaf pines, and, of course, palm trees. It’s a gorgeous during the day, but running through them at night is something everyone should experience once in their life.

?*And today, my experience is chasing Jax. Who, just so happens to be dressed in a blow-up costume, with slides on his fucking feet. The entire situation is actually beyond ridiculous if you stop and think about it and is a serious injury waiting to happen. But for once, I turn my brain off and let myself take what I want. For once.

Jax is fucking fast too, and him being in this costume should be a turn off, but just the sight of him running has my cock waking up behind my black cargo pants.

Only one thought is bouncing around in my head as we weave in and out of these trees, and that’s catching Jax, forcing him to the ground, and feeding my cock down his throat.

He’s jumping over overgrown tree trunks and down limbs at a lightning speed, but I’ve got the right shoes on for this, and I’m not dressed as a giant pink star. Which means, I’m gaining on him by the second. He fucks up when he looks over his shoulder to see how far I am from him, and I watch in slow motion as he falls over a large branch and goes tumbling to the ground.

He rolls over on his back and tries his best to scoot away from me. “You should be scared, pretty boy.” My voice doesn’t sound like mine—it’s deeper, grittier, and the need lacing it is heady.

His shaky voice pleads, “Please don’t do this.”

I immediately stop in my tracks. This might all be a part of the game we’re playing, but the last thing I want to do is hurt or take advantage of him. So I need to make sure. “Use the stop light method if you want this to slow down or stop. What’s slow down?”

With the most trusting eyes, he says, “Yellow.”

“Correct, and what’s stop?” It’s so different not hearing his usual joking manner.

“Red.”

“Good boy,” I praise him, and the whimper that leaves him has me smirking behind my mask.

“And what are you at in this moment?”

He practically moans his answer this time. “Green.”

I take that as my green light, literally.

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