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Verse
Supernova
- Joined
- May 8, 2011
Noel liked his family.
He just didn't like them enough to celebrate his 18th birthday with them. The skinny, blonde youth clocked in as a bird-boned beauty, who perhaps hit the alt-scene a little hard, and still not hard enough for his peers. Septum ring, but no tattoos. Big black hoodie with long fingers sticking out of the cuffs at the end of the sleeves, but nothing name-brand expect for his boots. He liked silver jewelry, though, and watches. Everything that could be hidden underneath his larger clothes that underlined his narrow frame. The tiredness in his blue eyes was intentional, an accessory like the rest. But it represented him. There was a darkness in him.
Maybe that's why mother Sylvia had been so adamant on upholding the tradition of renting out a house like this, for all of them to be here, celebrating him. Not that grandmother Shirley wasn't quick to jump on it. They had both heavily featured in his upbringing, and he had been more than happy to play their dutiful baby up until a few years ago, when he discovered the other delights of the Yareli night. Now he wasn't so sweet anymore. He found out that getting into shit, getting paid for it, and fucking was a whole lot more fun than family gettogethers and playing cards with two generations of women of his bloodline.
Somehow they'd guilted him into coming here, and they were now officially past the hour when he was born. Noel was alarmingly sober and he didn't like it one bit. He had thought he could handle it, all these aunts pinching his cheeks and his grandmother talking about 'how grown up' he was. That's why the boy with the dirty gold mop on his head stayed in a corner and looked out the window as the others made good use of the air bNb they'd all chipped in for. He felt robbed, and like he wanted to punch something. Everyone was conversing and making the same jokes, and laughing the same stupid way they always did. He could see the benefits of that, maybe, but not ALL the fucking time. And here he was, wasting a perfectly good occasion to get fucked up and use his back-breaking cock on someone pretty.
He was less and less subtle about scrolling through the site of milf porn on his phone, and when he came across a spread-eagle bitch with gray hairs framing her on-display pussy, he lost it. He sighed and stood up, and shoved his phone into the pouch of his hoodie. The utility space was crowded by some of his presents, and he fished out the envelope of exactly fifty dollars with a heart-warming note from his grandmother. The same kind of stuff she'd been writing him for years. The frowning teen stomped over to where Shirley and Sylvia were talking.
In a rare pause between reminiscing and gossiping about world news that worried both of them, he leaned down to speak in his grandmother's ear, grabbing her arm. "Hey, ganny," she loved when he called her that. "can I talk to you?" And the grip her had on her didn't really suggest she had a choice. He didn't even smile at his mother as he stole her mother away. He didn't really know what he was doing.
Only he did. The blood rushing to his cock and the burning adrenaline in his system already told him. It was messed up. But he was too bored and too horny to care. Somehow he knew it'd work.
He just found one of many bedrooms in this house, and that's when he finally let go of her, if indeed she followed. The young man looked at her, and the juvenile hair he kept, shaded his light eyes. It gave him the cadence of the hooligan he usually was, when none of his matriarchs were watching. He didn't care to hide it anymore. He'd locked the door. He tossed her enveloped at her feet.
"What's this, ganny?" he asked with none of the warmth that usually accompanied that nickname. His jaw was jutting from his pressing molars. "It's my 18th birthday, and you're going to drag me out here, and then just give me 50 bucks for my trouble?" he said it like she owed him, like he was here about to break her bones for the rest. She'd always loved him so tenderly. He was going to cash out on that now. He looked her up and down.
He just didn't like them enough to celebrate his 18th birthday with them. The skinny, blonde youth clocked in as a bird-boned beauty, who perhaps hit the alt-scene a little hard, and still not hard enough for his peers. Septum ring, but no tattoos. Big black hoodie with long fingers sticking out of the cuffs at the end of the sleeves, but nothing name-brand expect for his boots. He liked silver jewelry, though, and watches. Everything that could be hidden underneath his larger clothes that underlined his narrow frame. The tiredness in his blue eyes was intentional, an accessory like the rest. But it represented him. There was a darkness in him.
Maybe that's why mother Sylvia had been so adamant on upholding the tradition of renting out a house like this, for all of them to be here, celebrating him. Not that grandmother Shirley wasn't quick to jump on it. They had both heavily featured in his upbringing, and he had been more than happy to play their dutiful baby up until a few years ago, when he discovered the other delights of the Yareli night. Now he wasn't so sweet anymore. He found out that getting into shit, getting paid for it, and fucking was a whole lot more fun than family gettogethers and playing cards with two generations of women of his bloodline.
Somehow they'd guilted him into coming here, and they were now officially past the hour when he was born. Noel was alarmingly sober and he didn't like it one bit. He had thought he could handle it, all these aunts pinching his cheeks and his grandmother talking about 'how grown up' he was. That's why the boy with the dirty gold mop on his head stayed in a corner and looked out the window as the others made good use of the air bNb they'd all chipped in for. He felt robbed, and like he wanted to punch something. Everyone was conversing and making the same jokes, and laughing the same stupid way they always did. He could see the benefits of that, maybe, but not ALL the fucking time. And here he was, wasting a perfectly good occasion to get fucked up and use his back-breaking cock on someone pretty.
He was less and less subtle about scrolling through the site of milf porn on his phone, and when he came across a spread-eagle bitch with gray hairs framing her on-display pussy, he lost it. He sighed and stood up, and shoved his phone into the pouch of his hoodie. The utility space was crowded by some of his presents, and he fished out the envelope of exactly fifty dollars with a heart-warming note from his grandmother. The same kind of stuff she'd been writing him for years. The frowning teen stomped over to where Shirley and Sylvia were talking.
In a rare pause between reminiscing and gossiping about world news that worried both of them, he leaned down to speak in his grandmother's ear, grabbing her arm. "Hey, ganny," she loved when he called her that. "can I talk to you?" And the grip her had on her didn't really suggest she had a choice. He didn't even smile at his mother as he stole her mother away. He didn't really know what he was doing.
Only he did. The blood rushing to his cock and the burning adrenaline in his system already told him. It was messed up. But he was too bored and too horny to care. Somehow he knew it'd work.
He just found one of many bedrooms in this house, and that's when he finally let go of her, if indeed she followed. The young man looked at her, and the juvenile hair he kept, shaded his light eyes. It gave him the cadence of the hooligan he usually was, when none of his matriarchs were watching. He didn't care to hide it anymore. He'd locked the door. He tossed her enveloped at her feet.
"What's this, ganny?" he asked with none of the warmth that usually accompanied that nickname. His jaw was jutting from his pressing molars. "It's my 18th birthday, and you're going to drag me out here, and then just give me 50 bucks for my trouble?" he said it like she owed him, like he was here about to break her bones for the rest. She'd always loved him so tenderly. He was going to cash out on that now. He looked her up and down.