Nathaniel

By Descriii [Email]


I first meet Nathaniel early one morning, an hour before sunrise, while I'm watching an auto wreck play itself out. There I stand, on a nameless street corner in American Suburbia. There's a small knot of us there, fascinated by our proximity to the freshly dead. The cars are burning, breathing oily black smoke into the predawn air to mix with the crispness of the beginning of winter. Each twisted metal corpse displays its wares to us: swiftly blackening evidence of our own mortality. My crowd is quiet, absorbed in thanatopic meditation.

He steps through the smoke as the sirens start to howl far away. Nathaniel. The beautiful young man crosses the street, weeding his way between the husked out cars with a measured step. I am in awe, both of his beauty and his composure. He has soft, dark hair that falls about his heavy cheekbones. His eyes are huge and liquid black, rimmed by long, sinister lashes. His chin is firm, his torso long and muscled like a classical statue. My eyes enviously dart to his long white hands and to the bulge of his jeans. I undress him with my eyes, enjoying the feeling of my own penis uncoiling. I close my eyes and imagine kissing the young man as the sensitive head of my erection scrapes along the denim inside my pants.

Then he touches me. Right there, in front of my somber crowd, he brushes my cheek with a tender hand. I open my eyes to find him standing squarely before me. His dark, faerie eyes laugh at me, taunting me by knowing my thoughts. A long moment passes while I struggle for words. "Hello," I manage, lamely.

"You seem like the only one here enjoying this," he comments, his voice low and golden.

"You think I'm enjoying seeing people die?"

He shrugs carelessly. "Maybe. Some people do, you know. Often arsonists are caught at their own fires because they've cum in their pants."

I can't believe we're talking like this here, in front of all these people. I don't dare to look around to see how they are reacting. "Do you enjoy it?"

"Yes," he says. "It excites me. The nearer I am to death, the more alive I am."

"By comparison?" I think I understand what he means.

"No."

"Walk with me."

He nods his ascent. We turn, walking away from the burning cars, away from the morbid, everyday people. We exchange names. I am relieved. Somehow I know, had the sirens reached us, he would have been gone. I can't stand the thought of his leaving; he's too fascinating. We walk down the irregular sidewalks, lit harshly by occasional streetlamps. The horizon is growing grayer with approaching sun.

We are not talking. I am studying him, and he is content with that. He smiles at me from time to time. I wonder if we're going to have sex, but I have a feeling that Nathaniel wants more than that from me. He seems far too alien, far too fey for something as mundane as a blow job. My erection is almost growing sore.

Finally I ask him, because it seems alright. "What will you do with me?"

"I'm going to eat you," Nathaniel replies. He is honest. It seems a foregone conclusion to him.

"How?"

"I'll swallow you whole. Probably feet first. I'd prefer you didn't suffocate, and you'll enjoy it more that way."

I struggle to come to terms with this promise. "Will it hurt?"

"At the end, yes. You'll die, be digested. You can walk away now." He makes the offer, but he doesn't believe I'll do it. My body sings with excitement. He's right, I won't leave now.

"Alright. Where?"

Nathaniel shrugs elegantly. I cannot imagine him ruffled: he is my world this moment. "Where would you like?"

"The park," I reply without pause. "It's just a little ways up."

When we get to the park, the sun is just rising over the mountains. The day is cloudy and gray. It will snow soon, I reflect. I won't be here when it does. The park is a wide square of grass, sprinkled with a handful of tall, thin trees. There's a tiny playground with some old metal structures for children to climb on. I smile, remembering bringing a girl here several times, making out in the grass at night. I wonder if Nathaniel and I will be interrupted, but somehow it doesn't seem possible. We head over to the playground.

I turn to him and he comes into my arms, pressing his beautiful lips against mine. We kiss for a long moment, our tongues sliding over one another. His tongue feels like the back of the sting rays I touched at Aqua Land. So soft, like thick, wet velvet. His muscular arms hold me against the playground structure firmly, stripping me of my shirt. As I shrug it off over my head, I reach out and do the same to him. I run my fingers over his carven chest and press my body against his. I can feel his erection, thick and hard against my groin. I kneel, and he reaches over me, placing his long-fingered hands against the structure. I unzip his fly and draw out his penis reverently. As I wrap my lips around it, I think about my death to come.

Slide down the shaft, turn my lips, press my tongue hard against the underside of his erection as I come back up. I am practiced, and I feel his body slowly, slowly knotting up. His sleek muscles tense, straining as if to tear themselves from his bones. I close my eyes and breathe in his masculine smell. He's going to eat me, digest and kill me. I wonder what he is. Perhaps he is a fey creature, some leftover of a mythical age. Perhaps he is an alien, or perhaps a dark cultist. I fantasize for a moment that he is an angel, for he seems so perfect to me. Then I'm struggling to hold on as he strains, growling like a predator and pumping his thick seed into my mouth. I swallow it eagerly, my imagination sparked by my fantasies. I imagine it digesting me already from the inside out, like spider venom.

He reaches down to me and draws me up. I kick off my boots, and he stoops, drawing my jeans away. Lifting each of my feet in turn, he pulls off my thick gray socks and drops them into the cold, wet grass. I reach up over my head, grasping the bars as my head spins. He's about to eat me. My heart pounds and I laugh in my excitement. He smiles up at me with his strong white teeth.

"Goodbye," he says.

"I love you," I reply, truthfully.

He does not answer. He does not love me, I know, but I do not care. Lifting my foot, he takes it into his mouth, running his tongue across my sole. I tighten my grip on the bars of the structure and lift myself a few inches. He takes my other foot in, unlocking his jaw like a python. He swallows, and I hold tight to the structure as my legs slide into his mouth up to the knee. His dark eyes glitter lustfully at me. My erection aches. He swallows again, and more of my legs disappear. He reaches up with one hand, the other hand steadying me, and grasps my stiff penis. He gives it a sensuous caress and I twist in yearning, trying to push my erection into his hand.

He pushes the penis back against my belly and swallows again, this time taking me in to the testicles. Below my waist I feel his warm, slick, pulsing innards. I imagine its redness, its blood-slick walls. I imagine my coming entombment there and my breath quickens. He swallows again, taking in my throbbing shaft. I feel his tongue against my anus. Surging with strength, I thrust my hips against the inside of his mouth, rubbing my penis against his throat. he closes his mouth around my abdomen and sucks his mouth flat around me. Groaning with pleasure, I release my grasp on the bars and his strong arms support me entirely. He swallows again, and my penis slides against the wall of his throat. I gasp, stiffening, and erupt into his throat. I clutch hard at his head and he gently guides my hands to his mouth.

With another gulp, my arms become trapped at my sides. Everything below my chest is warm and compact. I am helpless, and about to die, and it is the most wonderful feeling I have ever had. He swallows and my chest slides into his mouth. My throat lies just before his teeth, vulnerable. I lay my head back, looking at the world I am leaving. I suck in a breath of the crisp winter air and smile wildly. Goodbye, I think. He swallows, and my head is inside him. I twist wildly, kissing the inside of his mouth with abandon. I lick and squirm, and my lips stay pressed against the inside of my beautiful Nathaniel as he swallows me down.

There is the sensation of falling, and then I am compact in a tiny space filled with stinging liquid. I try to writhe in pain, but there is not room even for that. I can feel my eyes burning, my skin stinging. Oh death! I open my mouth to scream in agony and exhultation, but the foul acid rushes in, drowning and burning me.

In moments I am unconscious.

In minutes I am dead.

I love Nathaniel.


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