Page 65 of Hollow Heart

I close my eyes, wrapping my hand around my length, and the relief is palpable as I close my eyes, stroking my cock slowly with my warm palm as I swallow harshly.

My thoughts spiral as I think about Duncan’s fingers resting on my neck, of his tongue probing my lip ring, of his warm, smooth lips parting for mine.

My cock throbs and I groan. Misery laces with desire as I think about how hard I was on his couch, just from fuckingkissinghim.

I’ve never gotten so worked up over anyone before, like that.

I let my brain wander, filling in gaps of the fantasy like the addict I truly am.

I replay the moment over and over in my brain, the way I wished it would have gone.

His hands on my neck, and my waist, pulling me into his lap so I could feel his hardness against me, twitching, begging for me to rub against him.

“Fuck...” I hiss, as the familiar feeling builds within my stomach, my balls, my spine.

I squeeze my eyes shut, groaning as I curse, as every nerve, every synapse fires like fireworks in the night sky, and I cry out his name when I come, feeling guiltier than ever because I know it will never happen.

I’ll be lucky if he stays on the tour, period.

My abdomen spasms as I ride out the wave of my orgasm. My fingernails stroke the edge of my lorum ring as my cock throbs, emptying itself on my pink shirt.

I stare at the ceiling, feeling relieved enough for the moment, that I don’t want a drink.

But what I do want, I know I can’t have.

I wish I was a spoiled brat. Then, I could have everything I want.

But the truth of the matter is I’m not spoiled.

Quite the opposite, actually.

For I would give up everything just to have a shot at the kind of paradise Duncan was able to find.

A life outside of this fucking bullshit where he washappy.

When my cock deflates and I’ve sustained a sizeable puddle of cum on my shirt, I push the thoughts, the guilt, and the dreams, down into the depths of my darkness once more, locking them away.

Because if there’s anything I’ve learned in my life, it’s that I’m not meant for sunshine and fucking rainbows.

I will forever be drowning in the Black Sea and no one will ever be able to save me.

“For fuck’s sake,Eddie, get your shit together,” I snap, as Eddie glares at me.

“Maybe if you wouldn’t rush through your songs, we’d sound better,” he nips back.

I can’t help that I snap at him as Duncan sighs in exasperation.

“You trying to tell me I’m the fucking problem?” I storm over to him, all but grabbing his guitar.

I haven’t had a rehearsal this shitty in ages. It’s like Eddie and Corpse can barely keep up with me, like they are the ones on fucking drugs.

What the hell do I know, maybe they are.

We’ve never exactly been the closest of bandmates. Sully was closer to them than I was, and I half expected them to follow him when he walked out on us.

On me.

Thoughts of Sully threaten to infect me again, only agitating me further.

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