The Recital of Terrance Reed

Chapter Fifteen

I lay in bed that night. Alone.

Father and Lina went to our uncles' place outside the city, which was fine with me. I wanted to be alone. I kept shuffling in bed, thinking of Kyle and his unexpected return. That was more prominent than my mother dying, which sounded selfish, but I didn't care. I finally got up from the bed, looking at my closet. I sighed and chuckled. I approached it, looking back as if someone was there. But I opened it, retrieved Kyle's sweater, and returned to bed. I put the shirt over my face and escapade into my pants. And yes, I knew it was terrible at the time to be sad. But I wasn't. I was mainly happy about Kyle.

Luckily, the smell was still there after a couple of months. But I considered every moment and jerked off to Kyle as much as possible. But now he was back, for it felt wrong to do so somewhat. The only problem was that I didn't know where he was staying. Was he homeless? Did he even see Sandy yet? I couldn't tell at that moment. I stopped touching myself and took the shirt off. I looked up at the ceiling and saw the moon reflect a blue rectangle box.

"Awe, I enjoyed that, Wallflower."

I screamed and shot up. Kyle was standing at the window, and he had a big smile. I threw a pillow toward him. He laughed for a moment while I curled into a ball. I heard him struggle through the window and then a thud. I looked over, and he was approaching the bed with a slow disposition.

"What are you doing here, Butterfly?" I asked, shifting my body toward him.

"I couldn't wait till tomorrow. I wanted to see you so bad. So, about five minutes ago, I didn't know if you were home. I went to your bedroom. And--"

I quickly interrupted him. "No. No!"

He chuckled. "Don't worry, Wallflower." He moved onto my bed and started caressing my body with his serrated textured skin. "I liked it."

I titled my head. "You did?"

"Fuck yeah. You little freak."

I blushed and covered my face with my hands. "Don't say it like that, dummy."

"How do you want me to say it?" He joked. "You want me to say congratulations? I watched from the sidelines when you were jerking off with my favourite sweater. Also jerking off."

I shot up and looked at him. "You're lying."

"Well, you're not the only freak in the sheets."

I smiled slightly and touched his hands. His nose laughed, and he looked around the room. He was admiring the subtle changes around the room.

"You've changed your room a bit," he commented while looking around.

"Only a few things. Here and there."

He got up and went to my Vinyl wall. He analyzed every new music I had up there. Of course, I would take none of my Lana Del Rey albums off the wall. But I replaced a few with older music from the thirties and forties.

"Al Bowlly?" He questioned.

"A classic artist." I stood up and went beside him. "Want to listen to it?"

He nodded his head. I grabbed the Al Bowlly album and walked toward my record player. I carefully took the vinyl from its pocket and placed it onto the record player. I looked back at him, and he was patiently waiting. He had this face of curiosity on his face. I knew from the way his eyebrow twitched and his lips curled. It was fucking cute.

"Ready?"

"Yes, please," He whispered.

The piano started playing. I looked at Kyle, who was rubbing his hands together. His submissive body. I missed everything about his posture and how his lips puffed out when lost in space. I walked up to him and grabbed him by the hips. He was already pudding in my hands. We swayed left and right to the sound of the violins and trumpets.