Friday, July 20, 2012

Flash Fiction Friday: Jonny

Continuation from last week's Flash Fiction: Room 6

I stepped inside the room and I was immediately struck by how cold it was. It had to be several degrees cooler than the hallway. My nipples were already starting to harden and my balls tingled in my briefs. I gently closed the door behind me and looked around, while still trying to adjust to the cool air on my mostly bare body.
“First time here?” a masculine voice from behind me asked.
I turned around. For some reason I’d thought that the room was empty, but clearly it wasn’t. There was one of the most beautiful-looking men I’d seen in my entire life standing a few feet away from me. He was a few inches taller than me, maybe six-foot-one or so. His skin was a gorgeous, golden-brown hue, as if he spent most of his time bathing in the sun. He was only wearing a pair of dark blue jeans that clung to him so tightly that I was surprised he was able to move around or even breathe. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his perfectly chiseled pecs or the perfect ridges of his abs.
“You gonna answer my question or are you just gonna spend these two hours staring at my stomach all day?” He asked. There was a bit of sharpness to his tone, but it was counteracted by the disarming smile that came after.
“Yes…my first time here,” I said, once I remembered how to speak.
The beautiful man took a few minutes to look over my mostly naked body. Finally, he looked directly into my eyes, with that smirk still stuck on his full, crimson lips. “You’re in better shape than most of the men that come here.”
He turned and walked away, toward a large white bed at the very opposite side of the room. I was hypnotized by the exquisite symmetry of his body, the way his back muscles moved as he walked, the way his flawless round ass shifted in his jeans. He turned around and sat on the edge of the bed, with his long legs stretched out, and his arms stretched out behind him on the bed. He just stared at me. I didn’t know if he was waiting for me to make a move or if he was calculating what his next move would be. Maybe he was doing both at the same time.
“You’re very quiet,” he said.
“I’m not sure what I’m supposed to say.”
“Say anything you want. That’s why you’re here. You’ve got complete freedom of this situation.”
As empowering as that statement sounded, it also made me feel quite uneasy at the same time.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
For a moment, he seemed surprised, as if of all questions, he didn’t expect me to ask that one first. I wondered what the other men usually asked him—or if they even asked him anything at all.
“Jonny,” he eventually replied.
My heart skipped. “That was the name of my first boyfriend…back when I was a freshman in high school.”
Jonny didn’t say anything, he just looked at me. Even from across the room, the power of his stare was both enchanting and intimidating. “I know,” he said.

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