Taking In Strays by Kracken Read Free Book Online Page A

strangely cold and Donny felt as if his only support was leaving him. He couldn’t blame Peter, just as he couldn’t really blame his father.
    “I’ve always been the life of the party,” Donny admitted as he closed his eyes and felt sleep dragging him under. “I was spoiled. I used people. They used me. I didn’t care about tomorrow, just the next fun time. I was the mayor’s son; his only son. Prince Donny. Everyone had to do as I said or they’d have my father to face. I fucked people and I fucked people over. That sums up my life until now. All this, Peter, is just karmic justice. I deserve it. I’m just what my father called me; a whore, a liar, and a user. I don’t deserve someone like you caring what happens to me.”
    Calloused fingers made a gentle line along Donny’s jaw. “Maybe that’s what you’ve needed all along?”
    It came too closely on the heels of his body finally giving in to the siren call of sleep. Donny tried to hold on, tried to decide whether Peter’s touch was real, or if it was the beginning of a dream, but his consciousness went down the drain into sleep and he couldn’t stop it.
     
    Chapter Three
     
    In the city, you didn’t hear the wind in the trees, or the gentle sound of birdsong. An open window invited car exhaust, street noises, and unsavory smells wafting up from concrete streets and sidewalks. Birds consisted of pigeons trying to roost on ledges and cooing inanely to each other. Hearing the sounds of a forest and a bubbling brook was enough to drag Donny back to the land of the living. It was a slow waking, lazy and without any remembered stress from the day before. The flu still had its teeth in him, but a soft bed and softer tissues on the night stand beside him, made that not such a terrible a thing.
    The nature sounds stopped abruptly before Donny could find the source. He heard a muffled groan from another room and what sounded like someone waking up who didn’t really relish the idea. Footsteps went by his closed door and then the sounds of a coffee maker start up came a few minutes later. Footsteps passed Donny’s door again and then the sound of a shower came to Donny. The nature sounds must have been some sort of alarm clock, Donny decided, and found himself grinning at the thought of Peter’s odd choice.
    Suddenly, Donny recalled his spilled confession about his father and about himself, and his grin dropped. He closed his eyes tightly and regretted waking up.
    The shower stopped. Donny tried to imagine Peter standing at the sink, in the nude, perhaps brushing his teeth, shaving, or toweling that big body dry. Muscles would flex, biceps would bulge, ass cheeks would roll as he shifted in his task, and large legs would stand apart firmly. His sex would, maybe, sport a half hard on as thick as…Donny added several sizes just on principal until he had an image that he thought might be close to the truth.
    Donny felt his own hard on and stroked it in a tight fist, wondering why misery and sickness couldn’t keep him from lusting after the man. Maybe he did need help? Wasn’t it wrong to want sex, while he was wallowing in the burned out remains of his life? Surely he was mental to fantasize about the one man that he had the least chance of hooking up with? About as mental as deciding to let an old man fuck him behind a bar after being disowned by his own father? As mental as wanting a man to suck him off for a few dollars and a sexual release after realizing that he was alone and without any help?
    Donny’s hard on went limp, especially when he heard the bathroom door open and Peter walk back towards his room. The soft knock on the door was one that Donny wasn’t certain that he wanted to answer.
    “Are you awake, Donny? You really should eat something.”
    Donny was hungry and thirsty. He would have liked to punish his body, to deny it what it needed in a perverse sense that he needed to get back at it for failing him. He couldn’t deny, though, that