Page 4 of Crybaby
He just didn’t know what to do to stop it.
CHAPTER TWO
The only solution to his little Sasha problem that Jason could come up with was to process his I-get-turned-on-when-people-cry problem.
Jason had a lot of fucking problems.
He needed to get some other images in his head that weren’t Sasha’s crying face so, naturally, he went straight to porn.
He had to psych himself up to it, to write down ‘crying’ in the search bar, something he’d been avoiding foryears. He decided to go straight for gay porn because crying women stuff was bound to involve situations that weren’t going to appeal to Jason.
The results for ‘crying’ in gay porn weren’t much better, honestly. Not that he was judging any of it, but none of the stuff he found was doing anything for him. Apparently, twinks getting spanked or caned or slapped or fucked in a way that was obviously more painful than anything else wasn’t his thing.
He stared at his laptop, taking a deep breath, and allowed himself, for once, to actually think about what hewanted. What it was about crying that thrilled him.
He tried a few more keywords with ‘crying’, like ‘burly’, and ‘beefy’, and ‘muscles.’
Those were definitelybetterbut seemed kind of…fake. And there was still a lot of slapping and humiliation involved.
And then he found it.
The guy in the video was way more ripped than Jason’s usual type, but he was big, without any boyish features that were so typical in porn. It started like a lot of the other clips—kissing, blowjobs, more wet, open-mouthed kissing.
And then the guy was flat on his back, and there had obviously been a time jump because he was red and sweaty and looked dazed. His fat cock was flushed and fully hard, dripping on his abs. His hands were above his head, clutching the sheets.
There weren’t any tears involved yet, but for the first time that evening, a hot thrill went through Jason. There was something about that scene that was hitting all the right buttons.
It only got better from there.
The other guy was sweet and encouraging as he slipped a prostate massager into the prepped hole of the guy lying down, who took it in as if his body had been waiting for exactly that. It was obvious when the toy reached its destination as he jerked, thighs tensing and relaxing.
The one with his hand on the massager smiled. “There you go. Doesn’t that feel good?”
There was a nod, a grunt, and then the guy on the bed started getting the slowest, cruellest blowjob in history.
There were some time jumps, but by the end of the video, after being edged for God knew how long, the guy being tortured with pleasure was amess. Mouth gaping, cheeks wet with tears, lost to the pleasure and the denial. Overwhelmed.
And this,thiswas what Jason had been looking for.
Jason was utterly transfixed, touching his now achingly hard dick slowly. When the crying man came, however, it all rushed over him, the way the man writhed and begged and cried, broken into devourable pieces by his own pleasure.
Jason closed his eyes and jerked himself off roughly, quickly, so turned-on he was dizzy with it.
He tried desperately to cling to the images he had just seen, the exuberant, painful pleasure of it, but right at the last minute, the second he started coming, Sasha’s face was superimposed on that desperate body.
Jason hunched over, coming harder than he’d ever managed on his own.
Fuck, he thought, even through the haze of orgasm.
This might be more serious than he feared.
**********
The thing was, Jason had seen Sasha cry—or at least in tears—before. Sasha was demonstrative in all his emotions, laughing big and being as easily moved by a sad story. Just as Jason used his bluntness as a defence mechanism, Sasha used his genuineness as proof of his strength of character.
The second year after becoming friends, Sasha didn’t go home to Yaroslavl, the beautiful, ancient Russian city he’d grown up in, for the winter holidays, like he had done the previous December. Apparently, Christmas wasn’t that big a deal in Russia—at least, not compared to America—but New Year’s was one of the most celebrated holidays of the year.
Sasha didn’t complain at work, but Jason could tell he was sad about not being able to spend the turn of the year with his family. Jason knew the reasons why Sasha left Russia, but it was obvious he still missed his family and culture. Even after all those years in America, Sasha was resistant to some of the country’s habits and was even stubborn about learning the language completely, as if he would lose a part of himself in doing so.
