Fear and attraction

Riley was almost completely nude. His chest was bare and wet. His biceps flexed with the slightest of motion. His long legs were uncovered. The only clothing he had on was a scanty boxer that gripped his muscular frame so clearly, you could outline the entire length and width of his dick. I felt the bones in my legs transform into a soft gel, wobbly and shaking me unstable. I needed something to hold onto for support.

“I can’t reach my back—” He bent his hands to his back to show me that they couldn’t reach. “Can you help me apply lotion there?”

No. what the fuck.

“huh?” I thought I had said no only in my mind, he was approaching me now. “I might have been applying it wrongly the whole time. As my tutor, don’t you think it’s your duty to show me how it’s done?” He was standing too close to me that I could feel his breath fall on my hair.

I couldn’t wish away the stiffening of my dick, or the fast pace with which my heart was now beating. I took the lotion from him with a frown on my face. It was the only way I hoped to conceal what I felt within. Maybe if he sees I’m irritated enough, he’ll stop. Or not. Maybe he would continue even more, but I only hoped he got tired of these games with time.

I poured a handful of the cream onto my palm, and I watched him turn back, showing me his broad shoulders and well-defined frame. I rubbed the cream on his back, first in circular motions from the center, then irregular at the ends. I noticed a black scar around his calves, close to the torso. I wondered how he had gotten the scar. I wondered when it happened, if he had cried. The picture couldn’t form in my mind. It was inconceivable to think of Riley crying and sobbing.

His shoulders relaxed against my touch, and I was certain I hadn’t imagined it. My hands were small against his back, and my palm with the lotion was very soft. It slid across his back like butter on a hot pan.

“Stop.” His hectoring voice snapped my hands out of his back with a jolt. “That’s enough!” He turned around, facing me with his chest against my face. I watched them rise up and down as he breathed. I watched the hairs that had sprawled from the center like shrubs on a clear farmland, spreading itself way across his body and converging into a slim line that flowed down into his waistband. I looked up at him, and he was looking at me, so that now our eyes met.

“We should begin. It will be late soon,” I said. And I dropped the lotion in his hands and walked out.

I felt his eyes on me as I walked out of the room, and for a moment I steped into his perspective and I saw my retreating figure. I was like a mop stick with blonde ropes on the head, and I walked like my legs were made of plastic.

There was something in the air. It was heavy, hanging over both of us like a storm. But neither of us mentioned it. We wouldn’t even acknowledge it.

He sat across from me, and I taught him the things I had prepared. I wasn’t sure if he was following on everything, because he didn’t always respond. He didn’t ask any questions either. He just sat there like a statue. A copper statue.

“It’s getting late. I think you should leave.” His voice was sharp. I didn’t know if there was something I had done to offend him. Maybe I had applied the lotion too much, or too little, or had rubbed it in the wrong direction. My stomach twisted. He has never been the nicest, and I didn’t understand why I expected something different.

“Yeah…” I said with a frail voice. I put my things together and left.

***

It was dark outside, and the air was filled with that fruity smell of fall, and the melancholy of approaching winter.

I saw two figures emerge from the blinds. Blood rushed quickly to my palms. They were quivering and wet with horror. I wanted to run as they approached me, but my legs felt heavy, like they were cemented to the ground.

“Who…” My breath came out trembling. “Who’s there?” I whispered into the dark.