The First Male Read Online Free PDF Page B
Author: Lee Hayes
sure Iâll be fine by then. You donât have to worry.â Simon focused his eyes upward and looked at the matted clumps of paint that made little hills on the ceiling. Sometimes when he couldnât sleep heâd stare at the clumps hoping to discern some hidden pattern. Focusing his energy on something so inane usually relaxed him and allowed sleep to overtake him. He wouldnât need such a cheap trick tonight. He was tired. Dog tired. He could feel his body succumbing to sleep. He adjusted himself slightly to allow for maximum comfort while Brooke wrapped her body around his. He closed his eyes, happy to have Brooke pressed againsthim. Her warmth, her scent, and the feel of her body, all felt so right. This moment felt perfect, particularly after the horrible fight they had earlier.
Ssssss-simon .
He snapped open his eyes in a fright. This wasnât his imagination. It felt real. He lay perfectly still in bed, too afraid to move. Brooke didnât budge, and she clearly hadnât heard the macabre whisper in the quiet of the night; a whisper that sent chills racing up his spine. His stomach churned and tightened. Even though it was an unusually warm December night in New Orleans, the room suddenly felt as if the temperature had dropped. He swore he could see his breath leaving his mouth as he exhaled.
He remained still for several minutes more. He didnât even want to breathe.
Donât be afraid. Donât be afraid . A familiar, masculine voice, one that Simon had heard many times before, echoed inside his head. The voice was smooth and calming; Simon had heard the voice in his head at different times, over the years, though it had been many months since he had heard it last.
Now, it was back.
His body tightened.
Donât be afraid .
Something was hissing his name, and now it seemed as if someone was speaking to him inside his head. Tomorrow, heâd take Brookeâs advice and see that doctor, although, at this point, he didnât think he needed a regular one.
He needed a shrink.
C HAPTER 3
S imon awoke the next morning to find an empty bed. Brooke, no doubt, had quietly slipped out in the early morning hours to make her eight oâclock class. When she stayed over the night before an early class, she was usually careful to not wake Simon on her way out. He always appreciated her thoughtfulness, but that was her nature. Caring. Considerate. Kind. In his whole life, Simon had never been doted over the way Brooke did.
Simon stretched and yawned, then rolled over and pulled Brookeâs pillow to his nose, drawing her enticing scent fully into his nostrils. Upon the first inhalation, his half-engorged organ stiffened into a powerful erection, which he simply could not ignore. Memories of her firm breasts and sweet nipples replayed in his head. He thought about how good it had been only hours ago. Images of her naked flesh flashed before his eyes. Her skin. Her shapely thighs. The arch of her back. Her lips. He closed his eyes and remembered the sweet taste between her thighs. She had a power over him that weakened him in a way no other woman had, and Simon was no stranger to sex. He first lost his virginity at the tender age of twelve and had led a very active sex life since then. He wasnât yet twenty-one, but heâd had so many sexual partners that heâd lost count; but Brooke was different from the others. She was not just a notch on his bedpost. Something about her put her well above the rest. Sure, she got on his nervesand sometimes talked too much, but their sexual chemistry couldnât be denied. The more he thought about her and the more he smelled her scent, the more turned on he became. Over the last few days his lust, alongside his anger, had become insatiable, with him masturbating three or four times a day to carry him over until Brooke was within his reach. It was like puberty all over again, only worse. He could hardly focus on anything other than
Ssssss-simon .
He snapped open his eyes in a fright. This wasnât his imagination. It felt real. He lay perfectly still in bed, too afraid to move. Brooke didnât budge, and she clearly hadnât heard the macabre whisper in the quiet of the night; a whisper that sent chills racing up his spine. His stomach churned and tightened. Even though it was an unusually warm December night in New Orleans, the room suddenly felt as if the temperature had dropped. He swore he could see his breath leaving his mouth as he exhaled.
He remained still for several minutes more. He didnât even want to breathe.
Donât be afraid. Donât be afraid . A familiar, masculine voice, one that Simon had heard many times before, echoed inside his head. The voice was smooth and calming; Simon had heard the voice in his head at different times, over the years, though it had been many months since he had heard it last.
Now, it was back.
His body tightened.
Donât be afraid .
Something was hissing his name, and now it seemed as if someone was speaking to him inside his head. Tomorrow, heâd take Brookeâs advice and see that doctor, although, at this point, he didnât think he needed a regular one.
He needed a shrink.
C HAPTER 3
S imon awoke the next morning to find an empty bed. Brooke, no doubt, had quietly slipped out in the early morning hours to make her eight oâclock class. When she stayed over the night before an early class, she was usually careful to not wake Simon on her way out. He always appreciated her thoughtfulness, but that was her nature. Caring. Considerate. Kind. In his whole life, Simon had never been doted over the way Brooke did.
Simon stretched and yawned, then rolled over and pulled Brookeâs pillow to his nose, drawing her enticing scent fully into his nostrils. Upon the first inhalation, his half-engorged organ stiffened into a powerful erection, which he simply could not ignore. Memories of her firm breasts and sweet nipples replayed in his head. He thought about how good it had been only hours ago. Images of her naked flesh flashed before his eyes. Her skin. Her shapely thighs. The arch of her back. Her lips. He closed his eyes and remembered the sweet taste between her thighs. She had a power over him that weakened him in a way no other woman had, and Simon was no stranger to sex. He first lost his virginity at the tender age of twelve and had led a very active sex life since then. He wasnât yet twenty-one, but heâd had so many sexual partners that heâd lost count; but Brooke was different from the others. She was not just a notch on his bedpost. Something about her put her well above the rest. Sure, she got on his nervesand sometimes talked too much, but their sexual chemistry couldnât be denied. The more he thought about her and the more he smelled her scent, the more turned on he became. Over the last few days his lust, alongside his anger, had become insatiable, with him masturbating three or four times a day to carry him over until Brooke was within his reach. It was like puberty all over again, only worse. He could hardly focus on anything other than