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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Left Without Words - 5. Chapter 5


"Left Without Words 5"

 


It might have been a dream or something, or it could have been the demanding beams of sunlight pouring in through my bedroom window, that woke me up today...but if I had a guess, I'd say it was the fact that I was trembling with infatuated tremors before I could even open my eyes.

Thoughts of me and Deme getting together to ride out to the park...just the two of us...I don't know, it had me dizzy with the promise behind its seemingly innocent opportunity. I don't know what I expected to happen today, if anything at all. It's not like I was hoping for this afternoon to end in an hour long ORGY or anything.

Then again...wow. Heh...I would REALLY get down on my knees and thank God almighty if today ended with a four hour orgy. Just saying.

Still, just the idea that I was just a shower and a short bike ride away from being close to the dreamiest boy that I have ever laid my puppy dog eyes on was enough to make me curl up in a ball and smile maniacally to myself, hugging my pillow in a crushing embrace. Geez, what am I ever going to say to him? I should have spent last night thinking up things for us to talk about. I mean, Deme can be really easy to talk to when it's just for a short while or whatever, but this is us alone in the park. Just us. And Deme's a lot more comfortable with me now that we've spent some time hanging out with one another. He smiles more. He looks me right in the eye, depriving me of my many opportunities to sexually molest him with my eyes when he couldn't catch me. And his hugs! Oh God, Deme's hugs are so firm, and yet so soft. And he smells good. And his skin is so smooth that it gives you goosebumps every time it dares to touch an unclothed part of you.

Can you imagine what it would be like to hold him naked? Like...all of that smooth skin against you at once?

Ok! That's it! I'm jacking off! RIGHT now! Time to head to the shower!

Yeah...I definitely needed that. Whew...that was a bit too much for me. I was liable to drill a hole right through my own mattress if I kept thinking about Deme and me having any kind of intimate contact at all. I am SO nutty over that boy! I mean, is this even natural? What the hell do I do with this feeling now? Does it ever go away? Or...at least calm down, or something? This is crazy?

Luckily, my hair wasn't working against me this morning while I combed it in front of the bathroom mirror. Just my luck, Sarah came knocking on the door shortly after I got in there. "Hurry up, Shane! C'mon!"

"What the hell, Sarah? I JUST came in here like two minutes ago. Chill out." I called back, taking my last few seconds of peace to double and triple check that I was looking my best for my...date? Whatever.

"Shane!"

"Oh, for the love of..." Angrily, I snatched the door open and glared at Sarah, who was standing there in her bathrobe with a towel, two brushes, and some other weird 'girl' stuff that didn't care to take the time to figure out. "What is the EMRGENCY? Jesus!"

"Mooooooove! I've gotta fix my face." She said, pushing her way past me.

"Fix your face? Wow, that IS an emergency! Talk all the time you need." I said, and slammed the door shut before she had a chance to yell at me or call for Mom's assistance. When it comes to my baby sister, I take my cheap shots when and where I can get them. But the last thing I needed this morning was having Mom and Sarah forge a female bond against me and making me the bad guy around here. I could do without the added frustration. I needed to keep my head in the game here.

I dressed up a little, but in a way that didn't make it look like I was trying to impress him or anything. Friendship first, right? Get in close. Then start looking for little hints and signals to see if maybe I can gradually persuade him to get closer. Then closer. Then NAKED! Arrrghhhh, I'm going to have to jack off a second time if I keep thinking like this. Even though...the idea of him on all fours with that sexy ass pointed directly at me while he looked back and smiled over his shoulder...wiggling slightly as he waited for me to slide right in. Shit...I'm hard again...

My mom and Sarah entered the kitchen shortly after, and I quickly forced myself to turn around and press my erection up against the sink...turning the water on so I could pretend that I was doing the dishes. Ugh! Humiliating!

"Didn't you say you were going out today, hon?" My mom asked, bringing her coffee cup over to the sink to wash it herself.

"I'll do it!" I blurted it out, and grabbed the cup, nearly snatching her finger off with it still curled around the handle. My mom gave me the weirdest look, but I deflected it by saying, "Yeah. I'm going to the park in a few. I've just gotta call him up so we can meet up"

"With Deme???" Sarah said excitedly, her eyes just as wide as her eager smile.

"I didn't say that, Sarah. Why don't you go have a fake tea party with your friends? Go chase a One Direction tour bus or something." I said.

She's like, "I know you're going to see Deme! I know you are." Then she asks, "Where are you guys going?"

"That's classified, runt. And I swear to God if I see you, Stephanie, or any of your friends popping up within a MILE of us, I'm beaning you in the forehead with every hard rock I can get my hands on!"

"Mom!"

My mother stepped in and said, "Shane, be nice to your sister."

"C'mon, Mom! You know how Sarah and her friends are. They're going to buzz around him and make pests of themselves until Deme reaches the point where he doesn't want to hang out anymore."

Sarah whined, "It's not our fault. Awww, Mom, you've seen him! Deme is sooooo CUTE!"

For a moment, I thought that complete lack of verbal self control would have helped to prove my point. But when I turned to my mom, I saw her secretly nodding her head with a smile, looking at Sarah and mouthing words, "I KNOW, right?"

"Great. Here we go. And the female alliance begins..." I grunted.

My mom cleared her throat and said, "Shane...there is NO alliance, ok? Just...he's a very handsome boy. People take notice. Dimitry is going to attract a whole swarm of girls once he starts going to school with you next week. But it's a good thing. I'm willing to bet that you start getting a few girlfriends yourself once you two start charming those hopeless school girls with your stunning good looks."

Absentmindedly, I mumbled, "I'm willing to take that bet. Not gonna happen."

"Why can't I go see him too?" Sarah asked.

"Because he's NOT your friend, Sarah! How about that?"

"You're mean!" She said.

My mom told us, "Can you both just pretend to get along for a little bit? Please? Mommy's got a headache." She walked out of the kitchen and didn't say anything more.

But I made sure to lean into Sarah's ear and whisper, "You know...Zane is never coming back to One Direction, right? Never!"

"MOM!!!"

Geez! She's such a BABY!

I made sure to leave the room before I got myself into any more trouble. Hehehe, let her squirm over it. She'll be fine.

So I got my stuff and got my bike out of the garage. I even took an extra moment of two to wipe the dust off of it with a wet rag. It wasn't all that dusty to begin with, but a slight polish can only make me look better in front of Deme, right? So it's totally worth it.

When I called him up, he picked up right after the first ring! Like...I could hear the joy in his voice! I've never been so flattered. "Shane! Hello! I had been waiting for you to call! We are still going to the park, yes?"

"Definitely! Should I just come over to your house now or...?"

"Yes! Come over now. I am just done taking a shower, so I will be ready." He said, embedding images of that unspeakably hot body covered in warm water and slippery soap suds. I am going to rub myself RAW if he doesn't stop being so sensual when he talks to me. "Ten minutes?" He asked.

"Ummm...sure. Well, maybe a bit longer. It depends on if I..."

"Ok. I will be waiting. It will be very fun to see you, Shane. I'll be ready to go, ok?"

What else could I say? "Ok. I'll, hehehe...I'll be there. I'm leaving now." And then I hung up, giddy over the idea that he was so eager to connect with me again in person. So...I'm really doing this. I'm going after the boy I want more than anything. I'm taking that leap of faith and hoping for the best. Hoping that my gut instincts are finally leading me in the right direction.

I was nervous. I was scared. And yet, I was determined to see just how far this little play date of ours could take us before escalating things to the next level. I hope that I wasn't being a creep or anything. There's a part of me that wondered whether or not I was hanging out with Deme simply because I was attracted to him and wanted to make him my imaginary boyfriend. But...at the end of the day...who knows, right? People go after the things they want most. It's not like I'm dismissing everything else about Deme that I find cool and funny and exciting just for the random chance that I might get to smash my face into the middle of that sweet succulent ass and lick him until he screams for me stop!

Yikes...where did THAT come from???

But I just...I wanted to be a part of his life. The way that he was a part of mine. Something inside told me that if we could just share that one common feeling, if we could somehow give each other a satisfactory taste of the very thing that we've been longing for the most...then life would be a piece of cake from then on. That seemed like a totally rational conclusion for me to come to at this point. I felt confident in having a plan of 'attack' and sure about his possible response once I unleashed my full charming potential upon him. It'll work. It'll be awesome and we'll both end up happy once we admit to really liking each other as more than just friends. I mean, deme's gay, right? He's...he's gotta be gay. Or...at least a little bit curious? I don't know. I hadn't worked that part out in my head yet. I just needed to be near him. I needed to inhale his scent and see the delicate sparkle in his almond brown eyes. I needed to look at his skin and marvel at how unnaturally beautiful he was. Just for a while.

It's hard to distinguish what I was hoping to see today and what I was hoping for in the future, but...the fact of the matter is...I was already addicted. Deme had pulled me into his magnetic allure long before I realized that I was infatuated with him beyond the point of no return. But it wasn't the helpless craving that really took a hold of me. It was the fact that I didn't regret or resent a single moment of being sucked into it, even when I KNEW that I was being lured into a emotional trap that I may never be able to escape from, that really made me stand up and take notice.

I am so lost right now.

I pedaled my way over to Deme's house, and he actually opened the door before I was able to lean my bike against the side of his house, next to the fence, and ring the door bell. Had he been looking out his window, hoping to see me? Was it a coincidence?

I heard the door open, and Deme came over to where I was standing and gave me the warmest, most incredible, hug around the neck. "Hey! You are even more early than I expected! I am glad!" He said. "Do you want something to eat or drink or do you just want to go to the park?"

Deme was wearing a very light grey, pullover, t-shirt. the material was so thin, that I could see his nipples through it, even though they weren't erect. And looking down, he was wearing jean shorts...but they were cutoffs. And cut more than halfway up his insanely smooth thighs. Much higher up than any regular American boy would have thought comfortable. A dusty blue color, with glaring white fringes of string hanging from the material. Just looking at it took my breath away, causing me to fidget and almost whimper to myself in an audible tone.

Deme didn't wait long for me to answer. He just rushed outside and looked me in the eye, his stunning good looks nearly knocking me over with their charm. It was almost as if the sun itself was trying to shine a little bit brighter at that moment, just to compete with the glory of that boy's presence.

If that was the case, the sun had every right to be jealous...and had a long way to go before it could ever hope to consider itself a challenge in comparison.

"Which park?" Deme asked me. I almost missed his question, as I was too enamored with the vision of seeing him raising that smooth, tanned, leg over his bike to straddle the bar, and eventually smoosh his sweet ass on the seat behind him. You have no idea how much I wish that seat was my FACE!

"We can...uhh...ahem..." Wow, my voice squeaked in such a high pitch, I thought Deme was going to cover his ears in pain. Shit! I really wish it didn't do that when I was nervous. "...We can go to...well, I know this place that, ummm...just follow me. K?"

Deme smiled at me, and I nearly fell over. But managed to peel my infatuated gaze away from the bronzed perfection of him and start riding. I'm not sure how I kept my physical coordination in tact long enough to work the pedals of my bike, or my breathing steady enough to keep me from passing out....but somehow I managed, and Deme followed me all the way to the park that I had in mind. Mostly green grass and trees for shade. Not a lot of bike or roller blade paths, no picnic tables, no beach and lake front tourists. I wanted something kind of quiet. Something a bit more secluded so deme and I could have a decent amount of silence to just talk and laugh and...bond. You know? No major interruptions. Just us.

I know that girls look at him. I could see them staring the whole time we were riding our bikes over there. Even older ladies would do a double take while they were walking their dogs and saw us swiftly riding by. I wish I could say that I wasn't envious of their shameless, slack-jawed, glances....but I can't. I was soooo jealous! Why do they have to look at my dream boy like that? I found him FIRST! So back the fuck off! You know?

These random street people are no better than my mom and Sarah back at home. And I know that I don't really have any right to lay claim to Dimitry in any romantic or preventative way...but still...he was MINE! I wanted to throw a blanket over his face and sexy body and keep him from being ogled and drooled over by people who didn't earn the right to do so. They didn't know him like I did. They've never seen his smile up close, or heard his laugh. They never lost their breath when looking up the wide leg of his shorts or forced themselves to grin through tasting his poorly made, salt ridden, Greek dishes at the restaurant. I did. ME! And I had fallen for parts of his personality that these gawking strangers didn't even know about. So...leave us alone. Because Deme's not some piece of meat, you know? He's better than that. So much better.

"Ooh! Here, Shane! By the tree, not far from the drinking fountain. Do you want to rest there?" He asked.

I could always hear the rising enthusiasm in Deme's voice when he spoke. Accent and all. And it's not like I'd ever be heartless enough to tell him 'no'. So why not? The tree not far from the fountain it is.

The only thing sexier than watching Deme's smooth thighs and short shorts straddling that bicycle seat was watching him dismount. I brazenly stared at the shape of his taut and perfect ass as he let his bike fall to the ground, and he spread out a large blanket that he brought with him for us to lay on. Already, my heart was pounding in my ears to the point where I could barely make out what Deme was saying when he talked to me. "I'm sorry, what?" I asked.

"Oh, I said that we have enough shade where the sun would not be too hot. It is a good spot to talk." He grinned.

"Oh. Ok." I replied, but then I felt kind of lame and asked, "Are you sure that this is ok? I mean, do you just want to 'talk'? I brought a Frisbee and stuff. I wasn't sure what you were into, but if you want to do something else, like...ummm..."

"No, thank you." Deme said, spreading out the last corner of the blanket right at the base of the tree next to us. "I hope you do not mind, but...I desire just good old fashioned conversation. I would really love to talk to you more. I think that would be...ummm...I don't have the word. I would like it much, though." Our eyes connected, and there was this spark of absolute panic that began to churn in the center of my stomach. I began to tremble on the inside, but on the outside, I played it cool.

I just smirked at him and said, "Alright. Fine by me." Hell yeah! Can I get some pimp points for that? Er, ummm...well, can I? I don't know. It sounded good at the time.

And talk we did. For at least an hour. No stops, no stumbles...I got so into it that I forgot to be awkward. You know, Deme has this really cute habit of lowering his head when he laughs. You can see his flat stomach sort of fold in on itself, and his shoulders lean forward, and those soft, silken, waves of dark hair come floating forward to cover his eyes...almost as if there was no gravity at all. Like slow motion. Those tender locks would sweep over the tips of his ears and gently lick his cheek...and it made for an awe inspiring moment of true admiration. It's like life was telling me, flat out...

...This is what love looks like.

Eventually, a brief silence passed between us. Not an uncomfortable silence, mind you. It was just a moment where our eyes connected and our conversation was better continued without any words around. Sometimes they just get in the way.

"Is this one of those golden moments?" I asked him with a smirk. "The ones you write about?"

"Hehehe, it's funny, but I was just asking myself that same question." He said. "It feels like it. I brought my notebook, but I don't want to write."

"Why not?"

"No. It is rude. We're having a good talk."

"That's ok. When inspiration taps you on the shoulder you've gotta answer, right? If you miss the moment now, you might not remember it later."

With a gentle smile, but a slightly serious tone, Deme looked me in the eye and said, "No, I will remember. I wouldn't dare forget this moment. Not for anything." I'm not sure why that one statement took my breath away, or why his determined gaze seemed to be sending me a message that my body was too weak to handle without warning...but I found myself swooning over him to the point where I had to lay back on my elbow and stretch out on our blanket to keep from falling over.

I took what little oxygen I had to say something and shake free of his spell. "Poetry. You know, I honestly don't know how you do that. I don't understand how you can take a blank piece of paper and write something so beautiful on it. You literally create something out of nothing."

"I don't know if I can explain." He said softly.

"I mean, there's a rhythm to it, and a structure, and a flow. Sometimes it rhymes, sometimes it doesn't...how do you know what's good poetry and what's bad poetry?"

He giggled, "There's no such thing as bad poetry." There he goes again. Lowering his head. It's like he tries to hide his smile from me but stops himself halfway. "It's like...you use your brain to speak your mind every day. Words are...as you say, 'functional'. Poetry is different. It comes from the heart. The words arrange themselves differently. When you're inspired to speak from the heart, there is a quality that simply writing 'functional' words can't achieve. It's not a textbook or an instruction manual. It's not a recipe for baked chicken or a random letter to a penpal. It's...the true essence of a person splashed upon the page. A soul attempting to express itself, hoping that others will comprehend and relate." He said. Then he pressed his finger to his chest, right over his heart, and said, "It is like taking a tiny little seed from here...and planting it there." Now touching my chest as well. "Only when you really feel and believe what you write, only when you have learned to be your true self through your own words, can you finally be understood. Only then can you move people. Otherwise...you are just scribbling words on paper. Is not the same." I think I blanked for a second. I have never had anybody say anything like that to me before. Ever. That might actually be the single most amazing thing that I've ever heard another teenage boy say, like, ever. Seriously. "I am sorry. I'm probably not making much sense."

"No! No, I totally get it, I just...you kinda caught me off guard. That's...so beautiful."

"You understand? Good. Then, maybe I planted a seed in the right place."

"You most definitely did. I mean, wow...hehehe!"

Deme looked away with a bashful grin. "Back home, Samantha always told me that I get all unraveled when I talk about writing. My father and Papa Milo always say that it is a hobby, but it is something I take very seriously. It represents everything that I am. It is the one place where I can be myself with no judgements and no excuses. I don't want to fake it. It has to be real. Once you corrupt the purity of what you write for something trivial, you can never get it back. The damage lingers forever. Art should be pure, never corrupted. Never controlled."

Could I be any more in LOVE! Owwwww, how is it that I'm falling for him so hard and yet it feels like my heart is breaking in two at the same time??? Is that even possible? Or am I more screwed up in the head than I was yesterday? Gah! Help me! My emotions are running around on a total COCAINE HIGH right now, and every second I spend with Deme in this park is making it worse!

Say something, Shane.

SAY SOMETHING!!!

"So...ummm, Samantha, huh?" Wait, what? Don't say THAT? "Your...girlfriend, or...?"

He chuckled. "You are always trying to set me up with a girlfriend." He peeked up at me and said, "No. Samantha is my friend. That's all."

"Ok. Just wondering. I always just imagine that you would have had somebody falling all over you day and night. Especially with the poetry and all." Where am I going with this? What am I doing? Am I doing this? Oh God, I'm actually doing this! "Boys like you don't usually make it this far without a few pretty girls trying to snatch you up for themselves."

Shyly, Deme began to play with one of his shoelaces, saying, "No. I would not let them catch me. And I would not stay if they did. Hehehe!"

"I'm sure my sister, Sarah, is going to be crushed to hear that." I smiled. "She's kinda got her sights set on you."

"Really? Strange. She was so secretive about it." He snickered.

"Sarcasm. Nice." I noticed that his voice was getting more and more quiet. He wasn't looking me in the eye as much either. Instead, he just twirled his finger around his shoelace and stared down at his feet. "Anyway, I don't think you have anything to worry about. I highly doubt Sarah and her brat pack would even know what to do with you. Hehehe, but I'm willing to bet that they'd gladly lock you in a room and spend a long long time trying to figure it out."

Deme blushed as his smile widened. Do you have any idea what a visible blush looks like on olive colored skin? It's so subtle. Like a pink glow shining through a thin layer of caramel. It makes your heart stop for a moment and reset its natural rhythm in an attempt to keep up with the way it makes you feel. Awww, even the tips of his ears were pink now.

"And?" He asked, just above a whisper. "What about you, Shane?"

He timidly peeked up at me again as he awaited my answer. And I said, "Well...I don't think I'd know what to do with you either." Nervously, I began to giggle...my eyes darting around the park to find anything that might distract me from having him see the truth in my eyes when I made that statement. "Then again, I'm not the one chasing you, right? Hehehe!"

After a brief pause, Deme said, "Too bad. I might just let you catch me. If you wanted to."

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you have an emotional orgasm without touching yourself! Jesus Christ!

All Stories and Original Content Copyright © 1998-2008 by Comicality.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

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I can't get over the fact that I missed out on this series! Even if it's just 5 chapters! I have to say Deme sounds so much cuter and beautiful than other characters like Tanner from "Class", Tyler the Blond God and even Taryn! Hehehe. You should definitely write more about this story. My God you always create new stories i have not read about and you leave me wanting more! Please don't leave us hanging Comsie! Love You! :worship::P

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Another great series! Just read all 5 chapters this morning and am totally hooked! Absolutely love Shane and Dimitry! I knew in my heart that Dimitry liked Shane back! Can't wait to read more!!

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I love this story! I love the innocence of the two on this voyage of discovery! Thanks

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wow, i really love this story and i can't wait to read what happens next when you have the time :-)

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So sweet, tender and written with passion. Great chapter, I loved the little teasing antics between Shane and his sister. Though the nervousness conveyed between both boys almost feels like your there in the moment with them. Everyone can relate to those moments. The first time you ever admit you like another boy, and they were that close to you. The jitters, the anticipation and the hammering heart in your ribcage. I loved how you described Demes outlook on writing, as a writer also it just feels natural to be as honest as you possibly can. I was able to relate to how you wrote it, I think personally you were writing from the heart at that moment, for what writing means to you. Writing for a writer is therapeutic. By the time we leave this life we will have been hundreds of people, living through the characters we create. Keep up the awesome work comicality, I can't wait to read more. :) 

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:rofl: 

 

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you have an emotional orgasm without touching yourself! Jesus Christ!

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