Page 7 of His Favorite Color is Blood
“Where do we go from here?” Misha asked quietly, unable to swallow the lump in his throat.
Grim sat down next to him and put his arm around Misha’s shoulders. “We can go wherever we want. What do you want to see? Is this your first time in America?” he asked, but his gaze inadvertently glazed over Misha’s stumps, as if he was already licking them.
Misha had meant where they would go sexually, but he’d settle on small talk. He was so scared of being all alone, yet just as terrified of becoming someone’s slave again. “Yes, I’ve only ever seen it on TV.”
“Then it’s your pick, Andrey,” said Grim, once again calling him with the fake name of his porn persona. His fingers were slowly moving down Misha’s back, and at the same time, Misha glanced at the enormous cock bulging in the leg of Grim’s leather pants. Cold sweat beaded all over Misha’s skin when he calculated the size of that monster. Grim wouldn’t try to fuck him with it on the first night, would he?
“You don’t have a home? Somewhere you go to in your downtime?” Misha fought the urge to pull his shorts over the stumps in some weird attempt at fetish-modesty, but that was exactly when Grim touched one of them, cupping the ugly end of Misha’s leg. He still remembered his lower legs, and every time he looked down, he knew something was missing, and he couldn’t shake off the stabbing pain in his chest.
“Yeah, I do. Why? That’s where you wanna go?”
“Yes. I’d like to see where you live.” Maybe that would help Misha ground Grim in some sort of surroundings, because as of now, he still knew close to nothing about him. So the man was in a motorcycle club, he traveled all the time, and he killed people. Not much to put on a business card. Unless “Ridiculously Handsome” was a job title. The symbol of his club didn’t tell Misha much either, though the image of a monstrous hand peeking out from underneath the lid of a coffin and nailing its owner inside didn’t bode anything good.
Grim smiled and and nuzzled Misha’s ear, kneading his stump as if it were the most appetizing steak he’d ever seen. Misha always felt it was deeply disturbing that men lusted after something that caused him so much misery. Even though he cared about working out, keeping the rest of his body lean and attractive, because that was what Gary wanted, a part of him felt like it didn’t matter anyway, because all these men wanted to see and touch were the stumps. Sure, they weren’t all the same. Some wanted to see him jerk off while others got off on watching him crawl and climb into his bed or chair. None of those people actually cared about who he really was and what desperate situation he was in.
Misha put his hand on Grim’s shoulder, strangely shy over being with someone other than Gary after all these years. But he needed to make Grim happy, and from the way Grim was looking at him, leaning close the same way he did in the truckmuch earlier, it seemed he wanted a kiss first. Misha couldn’t afford to resist, even if the fork in his shorts was now like a separate living being, advising him to stab Grim in the throat. Misha could then cut his hair, hitchhike to a big city, and … what? Become a homeless, crippled beggar? At twenty-two?
All his thoughts dispersed for a moment when Grim’s lips crashed into his with both hunger and a surprising gentleness. Overcome by the spark of arousal, Misha barely had enough brainpower left to slide the fork out of his pocket and blindly stuff it underneath the pillow before all the grey matter in his head turned into vanilla sponge. He was breathing hard against Misha’s mouth as they both sank to the mattress. Grim shifted, and within seconds, he was over Misha, still petting the stumps as his lips caressed Misha’s with more and more intensity. His tongue coaxed Misha’s to move, stroking it lazily while their chests met when Grim lowered himself slightly.
Gary had never kissed Misha like this, not with this much dedication, and it was more confusing than Misha would like to admit. But being a good kisser didn’t make Grim a good person, and his size became much more threatening and alarming once they lay down. Maybe if they made out all night, things wouldn’t be that bad? Misha gently stroked Grim’s shoulders, never pulling away from Grim’s lips as he tried to work out what Grim enjoyed apart from touching stumps. Misha himself tried to forget that those artificially created parts of his body even existed. In his fantasies, he was always a complete man, with feet dragging over the mattress, not misshapen lumps beneath his knees. He tried to focus on Grim’s warm, fragrant mouth instead.
That big, warm body stirred under his touch, and Grim deepened the kiss, stroking his tongue over Misha’s palate before suckling on his lips. “You feel just as good as I imagined,” he whispered, massaging the stump with his thumb in circular movements. It was too much already, as any touch to the delicate scars had Misha on pins and needles.
Those words were exactly what Misha needed to remind him that Grim wasn’t exactly seeinghimbut a webcam version of Misha that he wanted to see. The version that took Gary’s cock with a smile and asked for more.
And yet, Misha couldn’t help a rush of excitement streaming down his body when he felt the hardness of Grim’s cock against his thigh. No matter how much horror he’d been through, he was still human, and the years with Gary managed to numb the pain of … what had happened before.
Grim smiled against his lips and then moved his chin down Misha’s jaw, scratching it with the invisible evening stubble. The sharp sensation was like a boost to Misha’s confused arousal, which became even stronger when Grim suckled on his neck. Misha heard a moan, and only half a second later realized it was his own. Maybe he wasn’t who seventeen-year-old Misha had been? Maybe thiswashis identity now. Andrey, the amputee porn model who loved nothing more than fucking or using sex toys in intense videos. Was it though? He didn’t even know anymore, and that scared him more than anything that could happen in this room tonight.
“What happened to you?” asked Grim, crawling down the mattress until his handsome face was between the stumps that always reminded Misha of spider legs.
Misha stared at Grim, unsure if the true story behind his amputations would terrify Grim or turn him on. He could almost hear the sound of a saw scraping against bone drowning in Misha’s own screams. “I’ll tell you another time, okay?”
Grim nodded and cuddled up his face against the shapeless leg before showering it with warm, open-mouthed kisses. He was touching the other stump with his hand, his face flushed as he was completely immersed in his fetishistic heaven. Misha took a deep breath and lay back. He could take this. Even if it reminded him of the first devotees he’d met in real life, and those were not fond memories. Grim’s tongue made its way up a scar and Misha laughed aloud at the surprisingly ticklish sensation. He put a hand over his lips in embarrassment.
Grim hummed against his skin, and the unmistakeable sound of a zipper tore through the air. Any trace of laughter was gone, but Misha still held his hand in place, too afraid to make a peep. From making out and weird stump cuddles, the atmosphere became aggressively sexual with that one sound. The ceiling seemed to be slowly moving down about to crush him.
Nothing changed, with Grim still kissing Misha’s stumps and thighs, but the enjoyment wouldn’t come back. Grim’s dick was so big Misha didn’t even know if he could physically take it, and so he couldn’t relax, constantly thinking about that monster unleashed out of its confines. And even if Grim’s cock were of average size, taking a stranger inside him felt so invasive. It’d been only him and Gary for over two years now. But Gary was dead, and there was no one here to save Misha.
“You smell so good,” whispered Grim as he slowly kissed his way up Misha’s thighs and past the bottom hem of his shorts, slowly nearing Misha’s cock, which got hard despite his misgivings and remained trapped in his briefs.
Misha was pretty sure he smelled of sweat and fear, but he wasn’t about to argue with someone so enamored with him. He dared to look down at Grim, nervous about the sharp focus that was present in his eyes even at a moment like this. He feared what could happen if he burst the bubble around Grim and told him the truth. Two forces were fighting in him, one excited by the beast in front of him and one rational and eager to run away as soon as he got the chance.
“Show me your cock,” whispered Grim, nuzzling the bulge at the front of Misha’s shorts. He was heaving, and between Grim’s strong thighs, Misha could see that long, thick dick that both excited and scared him. He had to blink a few times to make sure he wasn’t imagining things. That thing was bigger than the cocks of many pornstars he liked.
Misha managed to tear his eyes away to look back into Grim’s and faked a smile as he went into the character of Andrey. Misha rarely smiled. All the pleasant expressions were Andrey’s. “You’ve seen it a thousand times,” he teased but pushed his thumbs under the waistband of his shorts and briefs. If he wanted any chance to blindside Grim, he needed to go with the sex, let Grim fulfill his obsessive dreams, and put him to sleep as a happy man.
Grim exhaled loudly when Misha’s cock emerged, and he crawled up, molding his tongue to the underside before he even grabbed it at the base. “I love your accent. It’s so ... different.”
Misha grabbed on to Grim’s shoulder with a gasp. That lick felt too good to be true. Even if Grim’s cock was intimidating to say the least, even if the stump adoration was freaky … seeing that handsome face down his body made colorful sparks fly under Misha’s eyelids. So what if the guy was into stumps? He clearly wanted Misha’s dick too.
Grim pulled back the foreskin, watching it for a moment before leaning down to slide his hot, wonderfully soft mouth over Misha’s cockhead. It set off fireworks in Misha’s skull, and the explosions became even more colorful as Grim played with the head of his cock, flicking it with the tip of his tongue and slurping all around it.
Misha didn’t expect a blowjob, and he couldn’t contain his excitement, as he had never gotten one from Gary and didn’t want to remember the few other oneshe had received. It felt as if he had phantom feet, and the toes in those feet could curl. He moaned and slipped his fingers to Grim’s neck, overwhelmed and too excited for words. If Grim kept bobbing his head the way he did, Misha would not last much longer.
With Grim’s hand tickling his balls now, Misha could completely forget that the other palm of his “savior” was still touching one of the stumps. He was sinking into liquid heat, and the pressure around the base was just perfect. His senses were on high alert, picking up each vibration sent by Grim shamelessly moaning into Misha’s cock. He was so hot, even with his hair out of place and the flush on his face. It was like being sucked off by a model who couldn’t get enough of Misha despite him being so incomplete.
A strange mixture of peaking arousal and unbearable sadness pushed Misha into an orgasm that made him cry out and grip onto Grim’s neck. It was nothing like jerking off on his own or using a toy. The intensity made it hard for him to catch his breath, and for a moment, when he closed his eyes, Misha truly was free.
