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Authors: Arden Aoide

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BOOK: Covet Not
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XII

 

 

 

Raphe didn't feel
like sucking any cocks tonight. But, it would feed him for a week if he did.
For someone as pretty as him, wide blue eyes, and glossy pink lips...he would
be utterly foolish not to do it. The biddies at the Country Club that morning
certainly weren't biting, and most of his regulars had full tables with it
being Mother's Day, so he should have expected it. The longing glances wouldn't
pay his rent, so he had to dismiss them.

All
he wanted was just one tonight. He sat at the bus stop in the skinniest jeans
he owned, tight white tee, and some Mary Jane sneakers, buffed within an inch
of its life. His golden blonde hair was ruffled perfectly, too long for any
proper profession, but long enough to captivate passersby.

He
was gorgeous. He knew it. It was made clear early on that he was worth only
that.

The
streets were dead. He could scrape by next week if he had to. Maybe he could
fit in a $40 hand job in the next couple of days with a regular. They were
mostly nice, but he really didn't want them to have that sort of power.

He
looked over at the wall. He couldn't see the guards on top of the wall, but he
could see the spotlights blinking as they walked back and forth in front of
them.

Raphe
wondered if he could entice a soldier. Surely, it had been so long since they'd
had anyone. But, Texas was notoriously anti-sexual freedom, and he had heard
stories of men imprisoned if caught. There was no information on the Internet
about modern Texas, but there was plenty of speculation. It was interesting to
him, and it made him want to see. He was safe on this side, but maybe they would
shoot him and drag him over.

He
didn't think wars were fought over dead prostitutes, but he would write it down
later. Most of his poems were turning into nonsensical vagaries that he barely
understood anymore.

Prostitution
was not the fodder he'd been hoping for, but there weren't many jobs he could
do. He hadn't the patience for school, and the cocktail of various medications
left him equally rage-filled and despondent. There were resources, he'd found
out later, but they were for those who could afford it, or those much younger.
The resources for those impoverished were saved for food and basic learning,
which Raphe understood, but still left him without.

When
he was more clear-headed, writing helped funnel energy and thought into
coherency, but at that point he was grown, and his parents were done with his
unprovoked outbursts, and he needed to eat.

He
needed a place to live.

He
found out that letting a woman have him for an evening, and reciting Keats,
Wilde, or various sonnets, including some of his own, paid the rent. It was up
to him to pay for Internet and electricity, and to feed himself.

He
didn't like to keep cash, so he would buy food or give a few dollars to those
having a difficult week.

And
when he let particular men buy him for a few hours, he'd play his part
perfectly. He could be whatever they needed, and sometimes they came away so
grateful for the experience, and money pressed quickly in his hand, Raphe
wondered if they were Texan.

Maybe
he should be standing closer to the wall.

 

A
truck parked across the road from him. Plates: Texas.

Well.

It
looked like a younger man, and Raphe knew exactly what the man wanted. He
affected a coy, yet seductive smile. The man still didn't bite. Raphe tried
innocent, sad, and friendly smiles, and finally, the man pulled forward.

He
was gorgeous. Dark hair and eyes. He was a nervous wreck, but Raphe liked
those.

 

The
man rolled down the window. “Could you help me with something?”

 

 

 

 

XIII

 

 

 

“Don't forget. You
will need to apply this to your roots every few weeks, but don't let him see.
You mustn't ever let him see!”

Clara
rolled her eyes. She didn't think Jude would care at all that her hair was a
darker blonde, but her mother was terrified. Apparently, ridiculously, her hair
color had been the reason the Agnesson's wanted her. Considering they were all
dark-headed, excepting the father, it didn't seem to matter what color her hair
would be.

He
hadn't even looked at her, though he paid a lot for her.

She
just couldn't wait to get out from under her mother's thumb. She was supposed
to be married at sixteen, but Jude had been barely seventeen at the time. But,
when Jude turned eighteen, James had said that Jude was still mourning his
step-mother, and the Peterson's were very understanding.

But,
Clara wanted her own place. And she knew the only way to get that was to be
married. Jude had always been shy at church and paid her no mind, which was
fine with her. At least she thought it had been Jude. It might've been Jared.
They looked alike, and they were both handsome...

She
didn't care. She was tired of having her roots lightened every few weeks. It
was surely frying her brain cells.

And
the lessons on cooking, housekeeping, bedroom
activities
, it was too
much, too unnecessary. He was young, too. The first week, all she planned to do
was sit in front of the television and eat sweets.

“...and
you'll need to be fitted to be sure. Though, I guess so long as you don't cut
your hair and soot your face, it would be an improvement...”

And
wasn't that a scandal? Mrs. Peterson believed it was shameful behavior, but
Clara would have done the same thing if she'd thought of it. To marry Mr.
Agnesson must have been such a horrible nightmare come true.

Clara
didn't like him, though he was perfectly amiable. Her mother certainly doted on
him ridiculously. If her father were still alive...

Clara
just wanted to leave this house, and if marrying a strange boy in a stranger
family was the way to do it, well, she would do it.

And
she was not going to bleach her hair once she moved out.

 

 

 

 

XIV

 

 

The boy was so
pretty. Daniel had never seen anyone like him. The boys in Texas sure didn't
look like this, and if they did, their daddies would surely beat it out of
them.

Granted,
this was the first time he'd ever been to Texarkana, Arkansas and he was
surprised at how populated it was. All border Texas towns weren't very
populated to make it easier to find people if they tried to sneak in. At least
that's what his daddy told him. He'd never heard of anyone sneaking in because
the Texas Guard would never allow it.

 

 

Living
in a town with a wall would make him uncomfortable. Maybe he wasn't the only
one.

The
man at the gates had taken one long look at his papers and the included thick
envelope, and nodded briefly before opening the gate. Daniel was anxious to see
the other side. It was brand new territory. He'd never been outside of Texas.

His
mission was simple: Find some blonde whores to bring back. But he wanted to
look around first. It was only about eight, and the way Mr. Agnesson talked, he
would be witness to some fornication in the street. He said that people from
the States lacked decency.

Texarkana
wasn't much to look at. People were out enjoying dinners, still dressed in their
Sunday best. But, that couldn't be. Mr. Agnesson said that there weren't any
Christians in the States.

The
most noticeable difference was of the women. They looked very different than
the ones at home. They had varying lengths of hair, and skirts, and some were
clearly in pants.

People
were talking and laughing, and Daniel wondered if he'd come on the wrong day.
Maybe he should have come on a Friday. Or maybe Mr. Agnesson was misinformed.

Daniel
couldn't believe that. Mr. Agnesson was the smartest man he knew.

The
streets weren't very busy, but he had memorized the map, so he knew where to
go. That's where he found the boy. On a corner close to a convenience store.
The store was empty save for the person–
woman!
behind the counter.

And
he was so so pretty. Long blonde hair, well, long for a boy, and wet wet wet
red lips. Jeans painted on, and a snug white tee.

The
boy was looking at him. He had an impish grin. Daniel began to feel nervous.
Mr. Agnesson had said to find a male if he could. He opened the glove box to
retrieve the syringe with the horse tranquilizer, and he put it in the inside
of his jacket pocket.

He'd
heard of boys who liked to dress as girls. He'd also heard of boys who liked to
have their asses licked and fucked. He'd heard of boys who liked to swallow
come. He'd also heard that Satan's work was mostly sexual in nature. Daniel
could believe that. Because he wanted that boy. And that was wrong.

Daniel
prayed. Because that boy was going to try to suck his dick, he just knew it.
And Daniel didn't know how he was going to resist. Because Satan was powerful.
His daddy said so.

It
would be the easiest way to inject him though. Maybe if it wasn't in his mouth
yet. That might work. He would not let Satan win.

But
Satan continued to whisper in his ear.
It would feel so good. So
unbelievable. He'd probably let you fuck his face and pull his gorgeous hair.
He'd want you to fuck his asshole. He'd want you to fuck him hard and long and
deep. So deep. He'd want to feel your come dripping out of him for days.

Daniel
pressed against his erection. Where were the fucking women whores?

He
looked up at the boy again. He was still watching him. His head was tilted and
he was smiling. He was going to go to Hell for leading men astray.

He
put the truck in 'drive', and pulled up beside him and rolled down the window.
The boy leaned down to look at him. He was smiling.

“Could
you help me with something?”

“Absolutely.
I'd be more than happy to.” The boy bit his lip.
Definitely Hell.

“It's
a private matter. Is there somewhere we can go?”

The
beautiful boy opened the door and sat down. “As a matter of fact, I know the
perfect place to ensure privacy.”

“How
old are you?” He wasn't intending to ask, but Mr. Agnesson had wanted young.
Something scientific, but Daniel didn't understand it.

He
laughed and rolled his eyes. “Twenty. Is that old enough for your...private
matter?”

Daniel
nodded.

“Drive
behind that shopping center there. There's an alley with some dumpsters. Park
on the other side of one.” The boy pointed to the strip mall.

Daniel
turned. “What's your name?”

He
was silent for a second. “Raphe.”

“Is
that your real name?”

A
small laugh. “Yes.”

“Why
would you give me your real name?”

“Because
I'm usually not the one who wants to stay anonymous.” He laughed again. “What's
your name?”

“John.”
He parked the car.

“John.
I get a lot of Johns.” Raphe slipped a little closer and put a hand on his leg.

Daniel
sucked in a breath. “I'd imagine so. It's a very popular name.”

“So,
John
. What is this private matter you wish to...discuss?”

“I...uh.”
Shit. He didn't know what to say.

Raphe
ran his hand up his leg, teasing and torturing. “You've not done this before.”

Daniel
shook his head.

“Do
you want me to just touch you? Or did you want my mouth?” He ran his fingers up
the zipper, then back down tracing the erection. “Mmm. I'm not sure I can fit
that in my mouth, but I'd like to try. My ass is aching just imagining being
full of that. If you were wanting that, you would need to finger me while I'm
getting you nice and wet.”

Daniel's
eyes rolled back in his head. “Yes. Oh yes. Please.” He pushed the seat back as
far as it would go. “How much?”

“How
much do you think my mouth is worth?” Raphe never played that game, but John's
eagerness was intoxicating. He unbuttoned John's jeans, and attempted to take
him out. John lifted his hips and pushed his jeans down.

Raphe
licked the tip and moaned. That should get him at least fifty.

“Hundreds.
Hundreds and hundreds.
Please.
” He pulled out his wallet from the back
pocket of his jeans and pulled out several large bills. He threw the wallet on
the dashboard where Raphe could see quite a lot of cash.

Hundreds
for just a blow job? Insanity. Raphe wouldn't have to work for a month if he
let John fuck him. He sucked at the tip and worked his mouth down a bit. The
cock was rather thick, but Raphe wanted to get paid for a fuck now, if this guy
was paying. He'd be the most eager lay this guy ever encountered.

Daniel
was possessed, he just knew it. The devil was inside him, controlling him.
Making him need that mouth on his cock.

Raphe
worked his mouth up and down, moaning obscenely. He pulled off and said
breathlessly. “You are definitely too big. There is no way this would fit in my
ass. You would split me open. And even if you managed, there would be no way
you could fuck me hard.”

“I
can be gentle. Promise.” Daniel began to pet Raphe's hair, and Raphe moved his
face to the guy's palm and started to lick upward, catching a finger. He sucked
it into his mouth, soaking it. Daniel swore under his breath.

Raphe
deftly undid his jeans and pushed them down just over his bottom, and was
surprised by his own erection. He gave it a few strokes. He let go of Daniel's
finger. “You've made me hard.”

He
rose and stroked himself a few more times, moaning, and made sure eyes stayed
on him. He licked his bottom lip, and bent at the waist. Ass in the air and
within easy reach.

He
had started slowly again, acclimating to its girth, when he felt a wet finger
spread him and push against his hole. The hand was removed and Raphe heard the
sound of fingers in a wet mouth, and he groaned, mouth full of so much cock.

The
finger was back and breached him easily. Raphe moved his hips to show how eager
he was. He bobbed quickly, up and down, but slowed on occasion so Daniel
wouldn't be too stimulated. That cock was going to kill him, but life would be
easy for a while.

Two
inexpert fingers pushed in deeply, stretching him more thoroughly than anyone
else ever had. It hurt. And he still had his erection. He pulled up, suckling
on the head, and let his mouth fill with more saliva. He sank downward, and let
out a filthy, desperate moan to get things moving faster, and Daniel started
fucking his mouth.

Raphe
pulled up and reached for his jeans to get a condom out of the pocket. He tore
at it with his teeth, and nearly fell forward when those fingers were wrenched
from his ass.

No
matter. They were about to fuck anyway. He quickly worked it over the head, and
then there was a sharp pain at his backside, and then...

Nothing.

 

Daniel
was trying not to cry. The stupid diseased whore. “Thank you, Jesus.” It had
been crude, but God had answered his prayers before he went too far. He was
truly blessed. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

He
pushed the dirty whore off him, and rolled down the window to throw the condom
out. Fucking whore. Like they were going to make an ass baby or something. He
pulled up his pants, and buttoned them, and turned to Raphe to yank up his
jeans. His filthy, diseased dick was hanging out of his underwear and it made
Daniel want to vomit. Once Raphe was dressed, he was shoved to the other side
of the truck. He saw a wallet sticking out of his back pocket and he pulled it
out. He found his identification.

Raphael
Achen.

Daniel
snorted.

Raphael.

Archangel.

Healer.

For
God.

He
didn't ever want to come back to this sewer. This blasphemy.

He
grabbed his wallet from the dashboard, fixed his seat, and left that grimy
little alley. Greenville was only two hours away, so he would get there in time
to get a decent night's sleep.

The
guard didn't spare him but a single glance before he opened the gate.

As
he drove, Daniel could look at the entire episode and realize how Satan's
influence could be so encompassing. His mind had been so crippled with an
animalistic deviancy that all he could picture was pushing into Raphe with a
brutality only found in Hell.

His
daddy had always said that there were demons living among them, and Daniel
hoped that horse tranquilizer would keep this one from doing any more damage.

He
thought it might be better to throw Raphe into a river, sparing themselves the
temptation of him, but he didn't want to disappoint Mr. Agnesson. He wanted Mr.
Agnesson to trust that he could get things done. If he didn't come home with
something, Mr. Agnesson might not ever let him work for him again. His father
would be so ashamed.

Maybe
he shouldn't speak of this at all. He didn't want to appear weak. He was still
young, only twenty himself, so maybe it was still difficult for him to resist
Satan's machinations. Surely Mr. Agnesson wouldn't be in any danger.

And
Mr. Agnesson had been right. There was Godless fornication in the street. He'd
heard that the population of New York City was thirteen million people, and
Daniel couldn't imagine the filth there. The devil would have swallowed him
whole had he ended up there, and with so many people, it seemed the devil did a
lot of supping.

He
would keep this to himself. If the devil tried to tempt him again, he would be
prepared.

He
prayed all the way to Greenville.

 

 

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