Read Online Stockholm Syndrome 2- 17 Black and 29 Red by Richard Rider - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Richard Rider
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and the warm slide of his bare thigh as he fits their bodies together from top to toe, draping an arm over Pip's naked chest and kissing the back of his shoulder quickly as if he's not sure whether it's a good idea. Empty bladder or not, he's still hard.
Maybe it's a dream. It feels like one. Well then, it doesn't matter what he says if it's a dream.
"You can put it in if you want," Pip murmurs, and Olly's breath tickles his ear when he laughs softly.
"Yeah, I bet you say that to all the boys."
"No I don't."
"You do, you shagged half of Shoreditch."
"I wouldn't, if you told me not to." He finds Olly's hand and pulls his arm closer around, entwining their fingers above his heart. "I mean it. If you want. You can."
Olly sounds hesitant and completely unsure of himself, and that's not normal. "I don't know how."
"You're a fucking liar. As if them dirty slappers you go with don't do anal."
"In the drawer," Olly says after a moment. Pip has to let his hand go to reach over. He can't help laughing at the heap of condoms in there - maybe the idea of accidental conception only actually sinks in after it's happened four times, but it looks like he's not taking any more chances. Not that it matters now. Pip lifts his head just enough to turn the pillow over to the cool side and take his pants off, and then just waits there on his side with his knees up against his chest, hugging the pillow and listening - the faint metallic crinkle sound of the wrapper, wet spitting noises. He holds his breath at the first touch, Olly's hand on his arse spreading him open, and lets it back out in a long wet ragged gasp when he pushes inside.
" Oh ..."
"Shh, my mum..."
She's been babysitting and they got back too late for her to go home so she had Pip's room, that's the only reason they're having to share. He's always loved her, but he's never loved her as much as he does right now.
"You could always gag me."
Olly laughs at that, quiet and breathless in Pip's ear. "Baby steps, princess."
"Alright."
Pip lets Olly move him about, turn him onto his front. He's drowsy from not enough sleep and a growing hangover that's really not helped by what they're doing. At least he's going slow. It's nice. It's wonderful. He's not even that hard any more but it still feels amazing, the sweaty slide of Olly's chest against his back and the way his breathing doesn't seem to make that much sense any more, patchy staccato gasps against Pip's ear and lost in his hair. He bites Pip's shoulder when he comes so he doesn't make any noise. It's hard enough it's probably going to bruise and for a moment the thrill of pain is almost enough to wake Pip right up, but the hangover wins in the end and then there's a horrific high-pitched scream from somewhere else in the house and he groans in agony and hides under the pillow, whimpering.
"DAAAAAAAD! OH MY GOD DAAAAAAAAAAAD!"
"WHAT?" Olly yells back. Pip wonders whether maybe something's on fire but he can't work up the energy to move and find out. He can hear Olly thundering round the room, presumably finding a pair of jeans or something, then the slam of the door hitting the wall and his bare feet thudding downstairs.
"DAISY'S LOOKING AT ME!"
"JESUS, I THOUGHT YOU WERE ON FIRE."
Pip smiles at that. People always did say it was like they could read each other's minds. He drags Olly's pillow over his head as well, muffling the rest of the argument, and doesn't realise he's fallen asleep until he wakes up again closer to noon, to a silent house and a knifing beam of sunlight cutting through the room where there's a crack between the curtains. The dull throbbing headache is still there but he doesn't feel tired any more, he's only going to feel worse lounging round in bed all day. Drinking a stomachful of icy cold water straight from the bathroom tap helps a bit, and a long cool shower. When he wipes the misty mirror clean he can see the purple mottled shape of teeth on his shoulder.
Olly's in
Maybe it's a dream. It feels like one. Well then, it doesn't matter what he says if it's a dream.
"You can put it in if you want," Pip murmurs, and Olly's breath tickles his ear when he laughs softly.
"Yeah, I bet you say that to all the boys."
"No I don't."
"You do, you shagged half of Shoreditch."
"I wouldn't, if you told me not to." He finds Olly's hand and pulls his arm closer around, entwining their fingers above his heart. "I mean it. If you want. You can."
Olly sounds hesitant and completely unsure of himself, and that's not normal. "I don't know how."
"You're a fucking liar. As if them dirty slappers you go with don't do anal."
"In the drawer," Olly says after a moment. Pip has to let his hand go to reach over. He can't help laughing at the heap of condoms in there - maybe the idea of accidental conception only actually sinks in after it's happened four times, but it looks like he's not taking any more chances. Not that it matters now. Pip lifts his head just enough to turn the pillow over to the cool side and take his pants off, and then just waits there on his side with his knees up against his chest, hugging the pillow and listening - the faint metallic crinkle sound of the wrapper, wet spitting noises. He holds his breath at the first touch, Olly's hand on his arse spreading him open, and lets it back out in a long wet ragged gasp when he pushes inside.
" Oh ..."
"Shh, my mum..."
She's been babysitting and they got back too late for her to go home so she had Pip's room, that's the only reason they're having to share. He's always loved her, but he's never loved her as much as he does right now.
"You could always gag me."
Olly laughs at that, quiet and breathless in Pip's ear. "Baby steps, princess."
"Alright."
Pip lets Olly move him about, turn him onto his front. He's drowsy from not enough sleep and a growing hangover that's really not helped by what they're doing. At least he's going slow. It's nice. It's wonderful. He's not even that hard any more but it still feels amazing, the sweaty slide of Olly's chest against his back and the way his breathing doesn't seem to make that much sense any more, patchy staccato gasps against Pip's ear and lost in his hair. He bites Pip's shoulder when he comes so he doesn't make any noise. It's hard enough it's probably going to bruise and for a moment the thrill of pain is almost enough to wake Pip right up, but the hangover wins in the end and then there's a horrific high-pitched scream from somewhere else in the house and he groans in agony and hides under the pillow, whimpering.
"DAAAAAAAD! OH MY GOD DAAAAAAAAAAAD!"
"WHAT?" Olly yells back. Pip wonders whether maybe something's on fire but he can't work up the energy to move and find out. He can hear Olly thundering round the room, presumably finding a pair of jeans or something, then the slam of the door hitting the wall and his bare feet thudding downstairs.
"DAISY'S LOOKING AT ME!"
"JESUS, I THOUGHT YOU WERE ON FIRE."
Pip smiles at that. People always did say it was like they could read each other's minds. He drags Olly's pillow over his head as well, muffling the rest of the argument, and doesn't realise he's fallen asleep until he wakes up again closer to noon, to a silent house and a knifing beam of sunlight cutting through the room where there's a crack between the curtains. The dull throbbing headache is still there but he doesn't feel tired any more, he's only going to feel worse lounging round in bed all day. Drinking a stomachful of icy cold water straight from the bathroom tap helps a bit, and a long cool shower. When he wipes the misty mirror clean he can see the purple mottled shape of teeth on his shoulder.
Olly's in
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