The Caged Bird Longs To Be Free

Chapter 6

It hurts. It fucking hurts.

It starts as a slow throb, before feeling like fire is flooding your entire body. You try to straighten up, but David's hands hold you firmly in place as he begins to rock.

You let out a whimper, cut off by David sitting up and kissing you. You moan through his mouth.

You stay there for a long time, sunk into David's arms, trading kisses as he tries to affect something down below.

After a while he nods his head upwards, indicating that he wants to switch positions.

All those online magazine articles were right, porn has ruined the youth.

You start to worry at not only the pain coming back, but in what sort of godforsaken position David will contort you into.

Luckily, David just pushes you down onto all fours, lathering himself up again before restarting his motions. It hurts a little less, but you can't suppress a sob.

This time David hears it. He slows to a stop and cradles you, lying across your back. He whispers sweet nothings into your ear, making you feel safe and warm.

He asks if you want to stop and for some reason you shake your head.

Every thrust makes you feel like you are being burned alive, but you love what this boy is doing with you and what he wants to do, so you keep going.

You try to focus on other things as David resumes. The one thing you keep coming back to are his hands, gouging your waist as he picks up speed.

That is a pain that you can enjoy.

You start to become numb down below. You can still feel David, but nothing is happening for you.

Your knees are hurting from being in this position for so long. You try and find some comfort by laying your head down, but your hands are still gripping at the sheets, almost ready to tear them apart.

David picks up his pace one last time before dragging you up, his nails scraping along your hips and groaning.

You stay there for a long time, feeling David's breath against your neck. He finally lets go, pulls out, and you fall to the mattress.

You roll over, a weird sense filling your body. You're glad you've done it, and done it with a boy that you actually like...but there is something missing, a blank space that you can't seem to find the piece for.

David lies next to you and you turn to face him. He has a dopey smile plastered across his face, his hair sticking to his forehead.

He leans over and kisses you. It's soft and passionate, seemingly the opposite of everything that preceded it.

You close your eyes and cup his face in between your hands. You feel David's arms snake around yours, walking his fingers up and down your forearm, making the hairs stand on edge.

He stops over a rough patch just below the base of your palm, a thin horizontal line. You tense up as David whispers, "What is this?"

You squeeze your eyes tight and David immediately gets the connotation.

"It was...a bad time. And I hate it," you finally say, blushing. David stays quiet, constantly running his finger over each ridge and bump, seemingly trying to dissolve the blemish underneath his finger.

"The Greeks, Apollo, believed he could erase all pain from those he loved with just a touch," he said, finally stopping so he could wrap his hands around the back of your neck.

"Apollo," you say, "A bisexual icon if I ever saw one."

"Shut up," David says, laughing resuming your make-out session.

You wake up cradled against his chest, duvet tucked under your chin.

Morning beer breath doesn't stop you from kissing David again.

You eventually slide out of bed and wobble. Your head is pounding from last night's drinking.

You feel embarrassment at your nakedness as you look around his room for your clothes.

Well, not so much at not wearing any clothes...and not even embarrassment of such.

Just that the boy in the bed behind you, the one you spent the night with, can see you now in the bright morning light, and can see all your imperfections and flaws.

Yet you can feel his gaze on you, soaking in your slight curves and muscles, your broad bony shoulders and hips...not caring about anything else in the world but you and him.

"Can I grab a shower?" You ask him. He mumbles something about down the hall and to the left, and you stumble your way there.

The restless water soothes your skin. You find you ache all over. Your jaw from kissing him all night long. Your neck from the odd sleeping position against his chest.

You hear the bathroom door open and David joins you in the cubicle.

You move over so that he can catch some water. You trade soft kisses under the showerhead, before you hug him from behind.

"I want to try again," you say. David understands the implication of your position and just leans forward against the shower wall for support.

You move back a few steps and try to line up. Again, your only teacher in this situation was porn. All the guys and gals seemed to love it from this position.

Neither of you even mentioned grabbing a condom. You had learnt about STDs in Biology class, but they were a foreign concept like French A-Level or driving a car. You couldn't compute them ever affecting your reality.

You push your way in and David moans in ecstasy. You growl in contentment as well.

You only clambered on top of him last night because he was the rugby lad and you were the softie. You never thought he would like it the other way.

You start slow but David's squeals and begs for more. You grab his hips in a similar motion to what he did last night.

It is in moments like these where you question your bisexuality. You like giving, could you not just do this with girls and be satisfied? But it's not just the motions (although that is a factor).

It is the person you're making moan your name, the one who kisses you while you are buried in them, and right now that is David.

It doesn't last long. You don't have time to even catch your breath before David turns around and his lips are back on yours. You finish showering and share a towel to dry off.

As you both get dressed in David's room, you descend to your knees one more time and work your jaw until you feel David tense up and you taste salt.

"I'll text you later," he says as you kiss him goodbye at his front door.