SICK HEART by Huss, JA (non fiction books to read .TXT) 📕

towards my face. I pull back from kissing Anya, glance up at him, and smile. Then take his giant cock in my hand and play with the tip until he closes his eyes and moans.

Then I push Anya’s face towards Rainer. She opens her mouth without objection and I’m fascinated as his cock disappears past her lips.

But that passive fascination doesn’t last because Maart is fucking her ass. Thrusting his hips upward, desperately trying to feel me.

I take my attention back to him. His face is right there, just below Anya’s right shoulder, and all I have to do is lean down.

His kiss is always rough. He always bites. And I laugh when he tries it, pulling back just in time so he can’t draw blood.

And then… I begin to move.

Anya is full-on moaning now. Not even bothering to stop the “Ooooh, ooooh, ohhhhh,” as she ruins her vow of silence. She shreds this vow of silence with moans.

But nobody cares. She certainly doesn’t.

And so we just fuck like that. Me in her pussy. Maart in her ass. And Rainer in her mouth.

She comes quickly. Too quickly.

But we don’t stop and she comes again. And again. And again.

And I get lost in the Lectra, and the sex, and the feeling of everything being just the way it should be.

It’s a trick. It’s the electric-blue liquid inside me. It takes over and it doesn’t give up. Not easily. Not quickly.

This is the beginning of the end.

And I begin to drift.

My body is still moving the way it should. Maart is caressing my ass as he fucks her. Rainer is back on his knees between our legs, licking us. Licking all of us. Anya is clawing my shoulders with her nails. Orgasming. And every time I move the wrong way and the sharp pain of bruised and broken ribs forces me to come up for a breath of reality, the Lectra is there.

The Lectra takes care of that too. The Lectra… takes care of everything. Our naked bodies are the only things that matter.

But the Lectra takes you prisoner as well, if you’re not careful. And I’m not being careful about anything right now because for the first time in my life I feel like a free man.

So I let the Lectra in. I let it grab a hold of my mind. And pretty soon it’s asking me questions.

Let’s go for a walk, Cort. Would you like to go for a walk with me?

Like no is even an option. When the Lectra invites you along, you go.

So I go. And find myself in a hazy room. Smoke, I think, because I can smell it—a mixture of tobacco, opium, and cannabis.

When I look down, I am tiny. Very small. Smaller than Evard, even. My body brown from the sun, and sweaty, and naked. The room is filled with men.

It’s not just smoke. It’s steam. Because I’m in a bathhouse.

I don’t think I want to go there.

But the Lectra answers, Since when do you have choices, Cort van Breda?

Are you listening to me?

It’s the Lectra talking, but no. It’s not. It’s a girl. Older than me. I think I know her name, but the Lectra is controlling me now, so I don’t have time to remember it. I glance past the girl and see a man with blond hair. He’s naked and laughing at some other boys, bigger than me, but only by a few years.

Are you listening to me?

I look back at the girl, but don’t say anything.

She’s pointing her finger in my face.

Go!

That’s what she’s telling me to do.

Run!

She’s shaking me by the shoulders, trying to pull me to my feet. But my head is swimming with confusion.

I think it’s the opium.

Or the Lectra.

Run!

And then the Lectra’s grip on me eases and I’m on my feet. I’m on my feet and really am running. Hard. Fast. I’m naked and running through the bathhouse. Turning corners. Bare feet slapping on the slick tiles. Slipping.

Everything is slipping.

And then bam!

I slam into a man.

When I look up, I see Udulf.

My father. But he’s not my father.

He wasn’t my father then and he isn’t my father now.

He’s just… breathe… one of them.

I can’t breathe.

No air is getting in and I’m gasping for it. Desperate for it.

But then I hear Rainer. “Cort! Let go! Let go!”

And then my eyes focus…

…and I’m back.

Both of my hands are wrapped around Anya’s neck. Her eyes are wide with surprise and she’s gripping my shoulders, digging her fingernails into my skin. I stop strangling her and she sucks in air like she hasn’t taken a breath in years.

Maart is still underneath her. And we are still fucking. Her tits bounce and wiggle with the force of two men near climax.

Maart reaches that place first. He slips his dick out of her ass, pushes us off him, and then kneels on the couch so he can spray her breasts with his come.

I keep going. Trying to get deeper and deeper inside her. Trying to own her. She’s still gripping my shoulders, her knees bent and legs lifted and wide open.

But then Rainer takes her hand and places it on his cock. He helps her finish him off, his hand on top of hers, fully covering it. Pumping back and forth as white come spurts onto her breasts and mixes with Maart’s.

I lean down and kiss her, not even caring that both our upper bodies are now slick with the sexual release of other men. I bury my face in her neck, biting her earlobe until she pants and wiggles in protest.

And I like her struggle. I like the way she resists. I like the way her soft body presses against mine. I like the way she grips my hair, fisting it, pulling it so hard, my scalp burns.

I like the way her mouth finds mine. The way her tongue slides in and out of it, like she’s fucking me instead of me fucking her. I like the way her pussy tightens against