Discovery (Learning Desire - Vol. 5): Learning Desire, #5

By Mason Lee

Volume Five of the Learning Desire series!

After finally giving in to his overwhelming need for the man he can't stop obsessing about, David finds himself in the Professor's bed. The sex may be everything he dreamed of and more, however, David discovers that being the man's lover is a twisted game. And he’s not sure he wants to keep playing.

David realizes that the Professor's intentions are not as loving as he may have thought and once their romance begins to unravel, he runs away in a panic, straight to Dean's door.

Will his boyfriend take him back? Will the Professor let him go?

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:

I could have put the typical synopsis here.

Boy meets boy.

They fall in love.

They live happily ever after.

The end.

But this is not that story.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Roja Publishing
• Release date: Oct 24, 2016
• ISBN: 9781540195036

Mason Lee

Mason Lee is assistant professor of practical theology and director of contextual education at the Abilene Christian University Graduate School of Theology.

Book preview

Volume Five of the Learning Desire series!

After finally giving in to his overwhelming need for the man he can't stop obsessing about, David finds himself in the Professor's bed. The sex may be everything he dreamed of and more, however, David discovers that being the man's lover is a twisted game. And he’s not sure he wants to keep playing.

David realizes that the Professor's intentions are not as loving as he may have thought and once their romance begins to unravel, he runs away in a panic, straight to Dean's door.

Will his boyfriend take him back? Will the Professor let him go?

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:

I could have put the typical synopsis here.

Boy meets boy.

They fall in love.

They live happily ever after.

The end.

But this is not that story.

Also includes sneak peeks at upcoming stories!

Vol. 5 – Discovery

David slunk to a corner with his drink. Everything seemed to be spiraling out of control. He kept his eye on the Professor from his vantage point and watched him work his magic on guests, young and old alike. It struck him at that moment that this, like the party before, was no mere social gathering.

Enjoying the meat, kid?

The voice wasn't familiar but when David turned to his left, he saw one of the young men from the first debacle, a gorgeous boy who he had watched slither to his knees in front of a stocky, gray-haired gentleman. The boy had disappeared at that point; he was just a head moving up and down, but David hadn't forgotten the look in his eyes before he had dissolved.

The meat? David couldn't even pretend to be up on the lingo here.

Yes, Professor Harding's parties are all about the new meat. You know, hot young boys like us, he moved his cocktail in his hand to indicate the two of them, and older guys, like the Professor, he pointed out an example or two in the crowd. I guess you're the Professor's new meat, right?

David's cheeks burned and he hated the boy for referring to him like that but he found the need for information more necessary that stroking his fragile ego right now. He would have to swallow his pride in order to learn more.

I'm his boyfriend, he answered. He couldn't sink so low as to use the young man's term.

The beautiful boy threw his head back and laughed deeply. There was no joy in it.

The Professor doesn't have boyfriends. Sorry if you thought that you were special or something. He has conquests. It’s all a game for him. He eats boys for breakfast, the boy insisted on looking him in the eye as he added the last words and David didn't understand why goose bumps would break out and run down his neck.

What happened with the boy who killed himself? It was a question that David had never been able to ask but that had always been in the back of his mind.

The gorgeous boy next to him scoffed.

Oh, that was nothing. Just a fucked up kid. It's not like the Professor made him do it or anything, The young man winked at someone in the throng, then continued. He just fell in love, like so many of them do, his hand was on David's forearm, Don't make the same mistake.

David wanted to protest, to defend the man who had pulled him in with his eyes and his lust and his overpowering magnetic draw, but he couldn't.

He's mad at me for something that happened tonight. He didn't know why he was confessing, but he had shouted it over the throbbing bass that had started pulsing again, something he wouldn't dare tell a soul.

The young man had a new admirer. A tall man in a suit was riveted to his side and his hand ran up and down the boy's back. David found the term meat completely suitable for what he was watching and his stomach rumbled at the notion that it was what he'd been all along.

If he's mad, then you need to watch it, the boy touched his arm once more before walking away with his new conquest. Take care of yourself. David read his lips; the actual sound was lost in the music.

David felt weak in the knees and wished there was a place to sit, a place to think. He felt desperate, like a caged animal and on display. Here, where all of the guests, except for him, seemed to know exactly what he was. He made his way through the crowd, down the hall and up the stairs to the Professor's bedroom, a place that he had thought of as home over the last few days and now even that seemed foreign and frightening.

He sat on the bed at first and then lay back, closing his eyes, reviewing it all. How had he come so far, so fast? In his mind, with Dean holding him tight, the Professor's black eyes flashing dangerously at him and the lithe, young man's stern warning. It was all too much and he needed to leave, to run away, back to the safe loneliness of his small room. As he determined to do just that, the door opened.

The Professor didn't make any sound as he entered, almost as if he really were hunting David. The black eyes were on him and the smile with the teeth was back and on display. How could he have dismissed his fight or flight response as simply pent-up desire? Was it too late to get out now?

David, the Professor's voice was a low purr, are you not enjoying the party, my love?

He had made his way to the bed and seemed to envelop the young man in his arms in one, quick movement.

I'm just not feeling very social, I guess... It wasn't even a lie; he never felt social.

Are you sure that's all? the Professor sought his eyes, as if he could read David's thoughts.

He knew there was no way of getting out of it and he returned the gaze, his heart throbbing in his chest. David no longer knew if it was a warning or the perpetual want he had felt since their paths first crossed.

No, he whispered, I feel bad that you're mad at me. He hung his head and listened to his pulse in his ears.

Oh, you know that I can't stay mad at you, the Professor grabbed him with both strong hands around David's biceps and rolled him back on the bed, you're far too adorable.

His hands roamed David's body then and once he found David's crotch, his cock jumped in response. The man knew him far too well.

My love, the Professor murmured, stroking him through his pants, you're so hard.

David moaned in response to the hand and realized that he couldn't leave, and in a moment or two, the caress would make him long to stay. The Professor was taking his pants down now and then his shirt and somehow he was naked before he could think about the warnings and once the Professor's hand was wrapped around his hard-on, slowly manipulating him back and forth, there was nothing to do but give in.

David... the Professor's touch was perfect, as always, and David found himself lost in it. The sensations coursing through his skin, his mouth open, his breath coming faster. He belonged to this man and it was all that he wanted. Turn over. Give me that sweet ass.

He did what the Professor asked and he was on his hands and knees on the bed, the same position that he'd found himself in so often since their first evening here, the man's hand still tight on his aching dick, his other powerful hand was running up and down the tender skin of his cheeks. Everywhere he touched trembled with pleasure and despite the fear that David had felt just a moment ago, he couldn't resist the man's touch.

The man was between his legs now. David felt his face pressing against his cheeks and the soft, slippery noise of the Professor’s tongue running up his crack was unexpected and David's cry of surprise and desire was loud.

Yes, David, you're mine. You know you are. He staked his claim in between running his tongue along the ridge of his ass, wetting David's skin, making him push his bottom up for more.

The Professor's tongue entered him and his wide hand worked his dick back and forth in time to his wet penetration and David's head sunk to the bed and the ecstasy washed over him. His thighs trembled with every touch and the thought of what was to come pushed him to the edge, feeling Charles inside him, his tongue, his fingers, his huge cock, he realized that he did belong to the man, there was no denying it. David whispered his lovers name again and again with every lick and every stroke.

Lover, the Professor was changing positions, head up, pants down, his brawny thighs touched David's and the engorged head of the man's dick was stroking him where his tongue had just been. Is that what you need? the man knew the answer and still wouldn't take him without the words he wanted to hear.

Yes, please fuck me, David begged him, backing up his hole, aching to feel him stretch his ass open wide and feed him every inch of the long, dark cock that owned him.

You have him well-trained, Charles, a man's voice called out, interrupting David's plea and the rhythmic motions of his hips as he asked for more.

That's true, I do, the Professor answered and pushed his way inside David, suddenly. In one thrust, he was completely inside and David winced when he felt the Professor's hot, heavy balls grazing his skin. The thought of being ripped apart so quickly, while on display, was making him tighten and every muscle convulse. He looked to the right to see who was watching him get fucked and recognized that Ken, the man he had been briefly introduced to an hour or two before, was watching his every move.

Then the cock that was buried in him took over every other thought and he bucked his hips. The Professor was slamming in and out of him, the slap of skin on skin grew louder and louder and David was on the edge of pleasure and pain.

This one was so easy, the Professor's voice was breathy and low and almost cruel as he rammed all the way inside and pulled back, fucking David harder and harder. The virgins always are, he said as his cock dug into David. He cried out, unsure if he could take another stroke, his own dick dripping and lurching, contradicting his thoughts, wanting every bit of it.

Impressive, Charles. You're the master, Ken smirked and continued watching as the Professor took his lover faster now. David bit his lip to keep the howl inside and clenched his ass tight around the dick that was buried in him. He felt the Professor tensing and pulsing deep inside and knew he was feeling the hot intrusion of a long spurt of his sticky semen.

The Professor pulled out and pulled David's hips back, commanding him.

Turn around. Let me see that sweet face... He said and, with a spasm, shot the first salty dash of his orgasm on David's face, across his cheeks. Then another hit his lip, in his hair, on his chest; in moments he was coated with his lover's cum.

That's it. That's what a slut should look like, the Professor's voice cut him like a knife. It had all been to teach him a lesson. The thought made his own smaller cock deflate and he shuddered and lay back in the wet puddle, closing his eyes to stop it from being so real.

Is he a slut already? Ken asked his friend.

No, he's going to be a good boy now, the Professor said, moving his pants back up. David heard the jingling of his clothes and knew that he would smooth back the dark hair and tuck his shirt in and leave him here as further punishment. Aren't you, David?

David felt his head nod up and down in agreement.

I didn't hear you, my love, the Professor's voice was still thick with the anger from earlier this evening. David realized that the words my love meant nothing.

I'll be good, he repeated, devoid of feelings, ignoring the ache inside, unsure if it was the pain of being fucked so urgently or if it was his heart.

That's all I want, the Professor patted his chest and left the room, continuing his conversation with Ken as he made his way back to the party.

David rolled off the bed and went to the bathroom, where just a short while ago, he had convinced himself that it was love, and looked at his face, coated in the white mess that the Professor had squirted all over him, showing his friend how easily he had dominated David. He bent and splashed water on his face, washing it all down the drain, rinsing his hair, wishing it could all disappear so quickly.

He knew what he had to do and, once he was clean, he put the clothes back on that he had come to the Professor's house in. It seemed so long ago, as if he'd been a different person that night on the front porch. He left the clothes that the Professor had dressed him in a crumpled heap on the floor.

David went down the stairs almost as silently as the Professor had crossed the room to reach him and instead of turning right, toward the pounding beat of the bass, he turned left and opened the back door where the cool, quiet night air greeted him. He looked back once and then ran into the darkness and all the way back to his room before anything inside him could make him turn around.

*****

He rolled over when he saw the sun streaming through the window and resolved to stay in bed the rest of the day. Class could wait, the world could stay outside his door. David didn't feel sick but his heart hurt and that was enough. He needed time to chastise himself, trading emotions for something that had never been anything but lusty fascination. He had been meat and, at that moment, he was disgusted with himself.

Last night he had wanted to knock on Dean's door so badly. His thoughts were there no matter where his body had spent the night. He had edited the version of his apology so many times; he had no words left if he actually had the chance to speak with him. What could he say?

He stayed in bed, drifting between nightmares and daydreams until the sun moved away from his window and he looked at his phone for the time. David had stayed in bed until the early evening and he realized that he felt dirty. His clammy skin stuck to the blanket and he imagined that he was still marked from the night before no matter how much he had washed in the sink.

When he entered the shower room, he couldn't help but look for Dean. He was alone though and even after, as he was combing his blond curls back, facing the mirror, he finally had his wish, the communal bathroom was empty except for him. Back in his room, he dressed in shorts and a baggy t-shirt and sat on the bed, wondering if Dean would even answer the door if he knew it was him.

David had to try, and when there was no response after the first knock, he tried again.

What? the voice inside snapped.

It's David. Can I please come in? it was a heartfelt plea and the longer it took for Dean to come to the door, the harder his heart knocked in his chest.

Finally, the door opened wide and Dean looked at him. It wasn't a smile but he wasn't sending him away either. David entered the room and sighed, shook his head as he tried in vain to sort out the words that all rushed to come out at once.

I'm so sorry, he went with his first thought. You were right all along and I feel so... what was it, stupid, ashamed, horrified? Terrible. It was a combination of the three.

Yeah, you should, Dean shuffled toward him, not looking at him, hands in his pockets, but I am to blame too. I should have told you everything about Professor Harding, he sat on the bed, shoulders down, deflated. I didn't want you to know, I didn't know how to tell you, I guess.

David sat next to the young man. He could feel the heat from his body on the bed and instantly, flashes of everything that had transpired here came back, the crook of his neck, the smell of him beside David in the morning, the intoxicating combination of soft skin along muscles, David was achingly and suddenly hard.

It's okay, David whispered and his hand reached out for Dean, his fingers touching his neck, feeling the line of downy, soft hair there that he had felt brush his face before. You're forgiven. I hope you can forgive me too.

It was too much, too quickly. He didn't expect anything but a cold, hard stare from the beautiful boy who had given him his virginity as well