Wednesday Briefs Installment #5 Owen's Story

Copyright 2103 JC Wallace

Wow, Wednesday Briefs installment #5 of Owen’s story. Seems like I just started flashing and here we are on week #5. Enjoy this scene and then check out the other flashers listed at the end. They have some awesome free stories.

The prompt I chose: Make a reference to any REM song.

  

 A nervous flutter ran through Owen as he stood before the front door.

Oh, shit.

He’d forgotten how tall, how dark, how magnificent the man was. Turk grinned wide, a row of perfect white teeth gleaming in the light from the porch. Brown eyes crinkled at the corners, and he looked even wider and larger standing on that porch. Black pants, a white Henley under a black leather jacket, and motorcycle boots made him a walking wet dream. Well, bend Owen over and slap him on the ass, the man was smoking hot.

“Hey,” Turk said as he gave Owen an appreciative once over.

“Hey,” Owen replied, doing his own perusing of the luscious man.

A flare of heat pushed up from Owen’s belly. He shivered as sweat covered his skin. He swore he could feel the sexual energy filling the space between them.

“All set?” Turk asked.

Owen nodded, trying to focus on the words coming from Turk’s plump mouth. Fuck, He wasn’t going to make it through dinner.

Once again in Turk’s muscle car, the smell of leather overtook Owen’s senses, and he rolled down the window to clear his head. Luckily, it was a short drive through the heart of town to Mr. Ups located on Otter Creek.

As Owen exited the car, he said, “Wayne told me this was a good place to eat.” Just speaking of eating roiled his stomach. He prayed whatever he managed to eat stayed down.

“I love it here,” Turk said, rounding the car and standing close to Owen.

Owen raised chin. The heat within those darkened eyes sent a shudder down his spine. The need was growing at a ridiculous speed. Biting on the inside of his cheek, Owen forced the heat and the want and the desire back. God, he’d never had a reaction like this to anyone.

Turk nodded his head towards the restaurant, and Owen followed him inside. A waitress greeted them, and led them to the back deck overlooking Otter Creek. Handing them menus, she took their drink orders and left them alone. Around them, white Christmas lights, the gentle sounds of the river, and the low murmur of voices added to the intimate ambiance. Owen strained to hear the music coming from the speakers. REM’s Losing My Religion played low, a stark reminder of Owen losing faith in his ability to win another battle with his illness. He shook his head of the morose thoughts, focusing on living in the now.

Small talk ensued as they waited for their food. Once Owen had his spaghetti and meatballs, he tried to choke down enough so as not to offend his date. Turk’s attention seemed to be solely on Owen and he was flattered.

Owen pushed his meatballs around his plate. “So, where do you work?”

Turk wiped his mouth with his napkin. “At the college.”

Owen furrowed his brow and ceased his meatball herding. “Middlebury College?”

He nodded then chuckled. “You look confused.”

“I thought you were a mechanic. The car show...”

Turk leaned forward. “That’s a hobby. I’m a professor in the sociology and anthropology department...and you look really surprised right now.” Again, his jovial face didn’t fail to show his amusement.

Owen realized he’d raised his eyebrows in surprise. Schooling his features, he sputtered. “I guess...I assumed...So, a professor. That’s cool.” Did that mean Turk had a PhD or some ungodly amount of education like that? Owen felt his IQ drop about twenty points. He only had a degree in video game development.

Turk shrugged, and raised a hand to the waitress. “It’s sort of a family thing. My mother, my grandmother, my uncle, my cousin, they all teach at the college. My concentration is on mythology and folklore. I like teaching.”

Struck dumb, Owen was silent as the waitress brought the check and Turk paid. A touch to Owen’s shoulder reignited the fire burning in his belly. A stab of pain in his gut caught his breath. He swallowed repeatedly as he followed Turk from the restaurant.

Outside, Turk stopped and held out his hand. “Come with me.”

The husky tone of his voice wrapped around Owen’s balls. Owen spied the hand with wariness, fearful that with one touch he’d attack the irresistible man. The brilliance of Turk’s smile waned as his hand hovered in the air.

Don’t fuck this up, Owen.

Owen forced a smile, clenched his teeth and grasped Turk’s hand. The current that jolted up his arm was startling, and he sucked in his breath. He followed as Turk led him to a secluded spot next to the river. The night air was cooling quickly, yet the sounds of the crickets and frogs still filled the air.

Turk tugged on Owen’s hand, and Owen found himself engulfed in the strong circle of Turk’s arms. The overwhelming need slammed hard into Owen. He pushed against Turk, and a growl rose from deep within the man’s throat.

“I’m going to kiss you,” Turk whispered, lowering his head.

The tingle as Turk’s lips touched Owen’s surged through him with a speed that made him dizzy. Owen wrapped his arms tight around Turk’s muscled shoulders. Strong hands rubbed over Owen’s back, then reached down to squeeze his ass. Owen went wild, kissing and biting and licking those lips, and humping against Turk’s thigh. Owen’s entire focus was on consuming and devouring the man.

The sweat on Owen’s skin thickened and his muscles cramped as a hot searing pain, lanced through his gut. He grunted and pushed past it. Turk’s hands were on Owen’s shoulders and pushing him back, but Owen surged forward with amazing strength. Another stab of pain, ten times greater than the last, ripped through his gut and his back.

Owen cried out and doubled over, clutching at his stomach and falling to his knees. Turk shouted his name, but Owen’s teeth clamped tight and he couldn’t answer, couldn’t breathe. God, it felt as if he was dying.

 ##

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