His damn breathing is really getting on my nerves.

In and out.

It’s like his throat is clogged and he’s purposefully doing it.

Asshole.

I roll to my stomach, covering my head with the pillow to drown out his noise. My toes curl and I clench my fists in frustration. I’m going to scream! And I’m going to scream at him! For Christ’s sake, can’t he just breathe normally?! One night, one fuckin’ night, and I’m stuck with him. He was never such a pain in the ass before! But now, it’s like he forgot how to keep his airway open.

Where the hell’s my CD player? I probably won’t be able fall completely into sleep with it playing, but it’ll be better than having him keep me up.

Shit. Goddamn it, I always have that thing with me and the one time I decide to leave it on the bus...

I sigh and lift the pillow from my head. It’s not easy to breathe under there. I relish in the cool air that engulfs my face, feeling good for a moment until his raspy breaths reverberate through the room and into my head.

Should I just yell at him? He always gets so cranky though...and I probably won’t hear the end of it for waking him up...

"Kevin!" I yell in a relatively loud whisper, tensing as I wait for his response, like he could hit me from there. Yeah, I’m risking the wrath of Kevin, but he’s pissing me off.

I look at the slight outline of his body under the covers, tinted blueish-white from the streetlight near by shining through the window, completely deadpan.

I blink.

Time to try again. "Kevin," I snarl, a little louder than before. "Stop breathing like that!"

Fucker.

I groan, making sure it’s loud so he might hear, and rub my hands up over my face, my vexation dripping through it. God I’m tired.

After a moment or two of becoming even more maddened, I scan the room. I need something to throw. I blindly grope the nightstand until I find something. Oh...this is perfect. It’s just heavy enough to possibly have some effect, but not enough to hurt if I just toss it at him.

So I chuck it at his face.

It thumps him directly in the forehead.

Holy Christ. I swear, he’s going to hear about this tomorrow. Stupid fucker just got louder! I hit him with a marker, and so he breathes deeper and louder.

Wait...he’s moving.... It worked! Then he’ll realize he’s annoying me and will stop. I smile in triumph.

Fuck. I need another marker.

That asshole just creaked the fuckin’ bed and kept up his damn annoying retard breathing.

I’m going to kill him. Really, I am. Maybe I should strangle him...then no more breathing... Yes, that sounds good.

I fling my covers to the side and swing my legs off the bed. "Kevin!" I snappishly shout, shaking him. His body jiggles with the mattress and all I hear are the loud deep breaths rushing through his nose, though most of it seems to be stuck in his throat. I put a hand on his chest, pushing down and bouncing him into the springy mattress.

Stupid fucker. I swear, if he’s doing this on purpose...but if he was doing it on purpose, then he would be conscious of what’s going on and therefore wouldn’t be breathing like that...

Hmm... Well, since he’s not going to wake up, maybe I should leave a little surprise for when he does. Maybe a little something that might eventually wake him up.

I grab the top edge of his comforter and whip it off the bed.

I smile in satisfaction. He’ll get cold, and, in turn, annoyed just as I am.

He coughs.

I jump, cringing in surprise. I swear, my heart just sped up a million times. I watch him with anticipation, for some odd reason scared out of my mind.

He moans and starts grinding his teeth with it.

Holy crap. And I thought there was no way he could be a bigger pain in the ass.

My blood is boiling now. He’s breathing weird, moaning, and grinding his teeth. I stand there, my body rigid with fury. I bet he starts talking too within the next minute.

Asshole.

I watch him; listen to him. His sound fills the room and I hear nothing else. I hate it. I hate it so much. How the hell hard is it to just BREATHE?

I suddenly pounce on him, straddling his waist. And sure, I’m naked, but that thought has completely slipped my mind. "Just stop it, Kevin!" I yell, forgetting about all others in the building. I’ve grasped his shoulders, pushing down, and fiercely shake him.

Oh...nasty... Apparently he’s naked too. He wasn’t when he got in there... Oh man. I halt my movements and promptly pull my hands back. He’s hard too. That might explain the deep breathing and moaning... Oh my god. Oh. My. God. I’m petrified; I can’t move. I should; I need to. Oh god I have to get away. Shit, think if he woke up now, finding the covers tossed off the bed and me on top of him, nude, with him just the same except fully aroused.

"Uuuhhhhohhhhhh," he moans, almost in a groan.

Shit, I think my heart just stopped.

"You know you can’t be on top," he coos, a smile playing across his lips. He grasps my hips and I tense so hard I could get a Charlie Horse in my forearm.

"Kevin...?" I whisper, finally managing to squeak out my word of protest and question.

"Shush, you know babies can’t talk," he says, his voice slurring slightly and raising in tone and pitch in uneven patterns, with a hand groping its way up my chest until it takes hold of my jaw. And I’m too mortified to object as he somehow rolls us over. He’s on top of me now, his hard-on between my legs and his lips devouring mine.

Oh my god.

Should I push him off? I try to move, but I can’t. I’m pinned here. And he’s so damn strong and heavy. "Oh fuck," I moan against his lips, but the words aren‘t audible. I roll my head and eyes back in pleasure. He’s frickin’ fondling me. Shit...that ain’t too bad...really...

"Now, what are we gonna give Daddy?" he asks in a dominating manner, but with a tinge of seduction.

"Daddy?" I snicker.

Fuck. That bastard just hit me.

"Babies can’t talk!" he shouts.

Then why the hell are you asking me a question if I can‘t answer?! But I don’t say that aloud, of course. I want to get away now. I don’t want to be hit again, nor do I want to be here for where I think this might be heading. Though he does taste rather good and his hand sure didn’t feel too bad...but I don’t want to be hurt...and he’s scaring the crap out of me. I want to ask him why he’s doing it though, and to tell him to stop.

I think I found the problem. His eyes are still closed. I knew that smack was a little off center.

"Now..." he begins, his voice still keeping that sort of mumble as he pauses to softly kiss my cheek. "Remember to do it just like before. You were good last time," he says, gently grinding his pelvis against mine.

I swallow. I don’t know if I’ve ever been more terrified in my life. And who the hell is he talking about?

His nose brushes my face and he trails kisses along my cheek and down my neck. My heart is in my stomach, tingling with fear and...arousal. I can’t deny that he feels good.

His hands grope my chest again and I moan, arching my back when he tongues one of my nipples. He’s surely got to notice there ain’t much there on my chest in comparison to a breast, right?

"Good, you moan for me. And cry, you’ll be crying; whimpering," he says sternly, though he still sounds asleep. "You know how much I love when you do, and to taste your tears."

H-h-ho-ly god. I shudder, taking in a deep breath at the feel of his warm breath brushing against my hard wet little nub.

Wait...crying? This person cries for him? As in he physically hurts her and she cries?

He lifts his chest off me and scoots back, still straddling my thighs. I watch him, feeling like the scared little baby he’s telling me I am. Well...at least he’s not breathing all weird anymore...

He shifts his weight to one knee and presses the other between my legs, forcing me to spread them.

"Kevin," I cry, "I’m not-"

His jaw clenches and he hits me again, way of mark this time. But it still hurt.

"That’s it," he growls in displeasure, wrapping his arm around my waist and seating himself into a cross-legged position as he pulls me into his lap. I blush slightly at how easily he’s able to move me. But all the color rapidly drains from my face as I realize the position I’m in: Bent over Kevin’s knee. Oh god this isn’t right. Please, just stop this! But please god don’t wake up! I don’t want him to see me like this. I’m embarrassed enough, and to have him see this, and remember it and know what went on...I couldn’t live with that.

I yelp at the first slap, thrusting forward in an effort to get my ass away from the sting and further from his hand. He doesn’t give me much more time to think about it before he spanks me again. "Spanks," that’s such a bad-sounding word. Makes my stomach cringe. I feel so small, so bad, so vulnerable, and so ashamed. I want him to stop.

"Cry, little boy. Whimper, moan, scream, do it all but I want to hear your tears. I want to taste them," he commands, and slaps me harder. The palm of his hand hits in just the right way, bringing the maximum sting and sickening sound.

Hold up...he just called me "little boy"... Oh my shit. Does he know it’s me? Is he pretending not to know...? Or was his special little lover a boy? Is he gay?! No...no, he’s been with women. Course he’s not gay...oh but I’m betting he’s defiantly bi...

I won’t cry for him.

Just stop, Kevin, just stop!

Okay, maybe just a little...to humor him, you know?

Hmmm, this isn’t working out quite right...I’m bawling like a baby now, begging with my whimpers for him to stop. I tried to crawl away, I tried again and again, clawing at the mattress to pull myself away. But his grip stayed firm around my abdomen and he only hit me harder the more I protested.

So the tears are streaking down my face now and I’m wondering why he hasn’t stopped. I reach behind, not being able to take it anymore, and shield my butt with my hands. I cry as loudly as I can, hoping against all hope it will make him stop. He rips my hands away, after hitting them once, and I cringe, waiting for him to yell and hit me harder. But he doesn’t. Instead, he flips me off his lap and I find him on top of me again. I keep crying though, tears of relief and gratitude that it’s finally ended overflowing in my eyes.

He does just as he said he wanted to, now, and I sink deeply into the bed as he kisses and licks the salty tears from my cheeks. And, as much as I hate to admit it, I’m pretty damn aroused. Right on cue, though, he touches me, caressing my erection with a tenderness that doesn’t seem possible after how much he just hurt me.

"Keep crying; you’re a good boy now," he whispers. And I continue without objection, not knowing if I could ever stop anyway.

I take in a sharp breath, stiffening as one of his arms curls around my knee and pushes upwards. Oh god no, I can’t handle that. I can barely even stand taking a good-sized crap, he’ll kill me if he does that.

I begin to struggle again, wiggling and pushing at him, trying to squirm away.

"I know you don’t really like this part, baby," he speaks softly, between my legs now and lifting them both.

I cry out again, it being part in sob, trying to push away from him. I just want to get away. I can deal with the loud breathing now; I can deal with anything, just not that!

"Don’t worry, I’ll make it good for you in the end, but you have to hurt for me. You have to cry, baby, you know that. You were so good last time, just relax."

I don’t know if the tears will ever end. I’m so afraid. I’m trembling and can’t breathe at a normal rate. I try to calm myself, to prepare, knowing if I stay so tense it’ll hurt even more. He knows what he’s doing, he knows where he’s going, so why doesn’t he use some type of lube? This person he fucked can’t of been a virgin, right? But he does want me to cry...but I would guess regardless, without any lube it could make somebody cry...

My hips are raised well in the air and he gropes again for a pillow and shoves a couple under. He kneels between my legs, where my feet are now permitted to rest on the mattress. I close my eyes, getting ready for it all and trying to keep myself quiet as he probes a finger inside. He doesn’t let much time at all pass until he shoves another and another in. It stings, but the tears and light sobbing are enough of an outlet for the pain. I shudder slightly, though, when his fingers stroke that lovely little place inside I forgot even existed. And now I moan for him, licking a tear that’s slid across my lip and buck my hips as he fucks me with his fingers. It’s not that bad, really...

And when he stops, pulling his fingers out, I don’t know why, but it makes me want to cry more. It had just started feeling good. But now it’s time for the main attraction; and he wastes no time. Before I can prepare myself, he’s pushing in.

I groan.

He moves faster. "Only cry," he grunts, and out of nowhere hastily yanks my member, causing me to shriek in shock and forget for a moment while he finally pushes himself inside. It doesn’t hurt as much now that he‘s broken through, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.

Why does he want me to cry so much? I’m wailing like an infant and it’s like he still doesn’t seem satisfied.

He leans down, holding himself upright with his firm arms, and tastes me again. My erection stiffens and he slowly begins to thrust in and out. His tongue skillfully licks my skin, so delicately. And I never knew just how much his small engaging kisses could stimulate and rouse me.

He speeds things up though, going rough and making it near excruciating. I cry my whimpers again, trying to beg him not to make it hurt anymore. But all it seems to do is make him go harder. I can feel how aroused he is, and tell just how good he thinks it all feels. He stimulates my prostate, causing me to heave a sigh in delight, and pulls out completely, plunging back in and causing me to scream in pain. But he won’t touch me anymore, and I push my hips up to no avail, trying to rub myself against him.

He goes on and on, teasing me, torturing me. Making me yelp in pain and moan in pleasure, all the while the endless tears keep flowing. And Kevin keeps kissing them away.

Sicko. And even in my mind that word was pouted, sounding like the little child he’s made me out to be.

He buries his face in the crook of my neck, his sweaty chest coming flush with mine. It sorta tingles... He sucks at the skin of my shoulder for a moment, still thrusting and rocking me into the bed, then bites down, slamming into me. His hips jerk and pound my ass while he bites down until I’m forced to scream and can feel it bleed.

My breath stays heavy and frightened while his begins to calm. I gasp, closing my eyes as he slowly pulls out.

I whimper for him while he kindly strokes my short dark hair. "Good boy," he whispers, and kisses me, aiming for my forehead, but, since he can’t see, kisses my eyelid instead. "Should Daddy make his baby cum now?"

I moan for him, whining like a toddler in the candy isle. Hey, why the hell not? I should get something out of this, shouldn’t I?

He pulls the pillows out from beneath me and lets my butt carefully come back to the mattress again. His hand slides down my chest until it grips my member and not before long his face is in the same area.

Suddenly, I’m not so afraid anymore.

I gasp in appreciation, trying to lift the hips that he firmly holds in place as his tongue licks away the pre-cum on my aching member.

I swallow, my Adam’s apple jogging in my throat. He’s amazing. I’m glad I was a good boy. I moan and cry for him, but this time without tears, until my hips carry out their final shudder and I lose it all in his mouth.

He slowly backs of and sits between my legs while I try to gather myself again.

He just swallowed cum in his sleep. Damn, I’ve got to say, that is very impressive.

Oh...his eyes are closed and he’s not touching me... I sit up, my breath heavy again in anxiety and slowly crawl of the bed. Once out, and far enough to the side, I watch him, waiting to see if he notices.

I beam as he yawns and slides forward onto his stomach, stuffing an arm under his pillow and pushing his face into it in comfort.

Holy crap he didn’t wake up. I quietly get to the end of his bed, reaching for the covers and trying not to make a sound, for some odd reason figuring that, after all that, my footsteps or breathing too loudly might wake him up. I carefully slide the covers up over his taut bare thighs and butt, which don’t seem as nasty as I might have previously thought, until it’s over his shoulders.

I walk to my bed and crawl inside it, pulling the comforter over my shoulders and tucking myself inside. My butt hurts. A lot. I keep clenching it, feeling so empty, as if it will somehow make that dull sting go away. And the cheeks of my ass still throb. I bet they’re probably bright red, too.

Suddenly the phone rings, and, I swear, I’ve about fallen out of the bed in surprise. I reach to answer it but Kevin snaps his head up. His hand clamps down on it, and he brings it to his ear before I even know what’s going on.

"Hello?" he asks, sounding wide awake. "Hello?!" he asks again in irritation, after waiting another moment or two for a response.

I don’t think I’ll ever look at irritated Kevin the same way again.

He hangs the phone back up and I watch him, huddled deep inside my blankets. He woke up so quickly and sounded so alert...I wonder if he knows.

My heart settles a little as he sinks back into bed and I close my eyes.

Oh shit, I almost yell, but Kevin’s lesson helped me avoid it. He just flipped the lamp switch on.

I watch him, squinting my eyes so it looks like I’m still asleep. He sits up and brings a hand to his mouth. His eyebrows twitch, furrowing in confusion as he seems to be tasting what’s in his mouth.

Uh oh.

He wipes away something from his lips, and then comes to the realization of the smell on his fingers.

I don’t know whether to laugh or blush.

He pushes the covers back and looks down.

He looks over at me.

I squeeze my eyes shut, praying he doesn‘t remember what happened.

"Humph," he sighs, somewhat in confusion and somewhat in accepted defeat. "Guess I forgot about Nick..." he whispers to himself. "Thought I cleaned up... Oh well," he says, pulling back the corner of his mouth in thought. He then flips off the lamp and tucks himself back in bed.