2 comments/ 22275 views/ 3 favorites Donovan Chronicles: Awakening Ch. 01 By: Dregun This is my first story on Lit so I look forward to comments and constructive criticism. Caution, this story is a longer read so those of you looking for a quick sex piece should look elsewhere; but if you like a good story, please enjoy. This is a very touching story about a young man who tries to make the best out of a bad situation. The people he meets along the way through his sexual awakening; and the experiences that define who he will be as a sexual being. Although this is a story about the start of Donovan's journey; I'm hoping it can be the start of yours as well. Sitting in a desk near the middle of the room is a young man; you wouldn't guess by the look of him that today is his eighteenth birthday. His body hunched as he lazily twirls a pencil between his index and middle finger of his right hand; the sight mimicking the sweeping revolutions baton twirlers and drum players at rock concerts do to garner attention. The tip of his pencil sweeps by his right cheek, just barely grazing his light brown hair, casting shadows of it on his vintage green t-shirt. His arm is resting on his left leg, feeling the cold yet soft material of his weathered and worn blue jeans. He leans forward while in his desk so he can more closely examine a picture in a Sports Illustrated magazine depicting screaming fans at a Cavaliers game, his eyes darting over the page. He catches the pencil between his index and ring fingers and slowly tucks a lock of hair that has fallen into his eyesight back in its place; behind his right ear. He can hear others around him getting restless, the sounds of bags being unzipped, magazines and books being shuffled shut, and an increase in enticing chatter. He tilts his head slightly up and to the right, while his green eyes follow suit to look at the old worn clock hanging slightly above the doorway. The red minute hand of the clock ticking perfectly, circling past the large black numbers as it counts down the time passing by. It is almost 3:00pm and that means summer is about to officially begin, once he gets out of class that is. He sits up slowly putting his pencil lengthwise between his lips, biting down ever so slightly until he feels his teeth break through the yellow paint, and the faint flavor of smoky wood fills his mouth. He leans over, reaches underneath his desk chair, and grabs from the basket underneath a red and gray backpack. As he lifts it up, he bites harder into the pencil; the tense strain of concentration is cast across his face; the embarrassment of falling is not an option for him. As he places the backpack on his desk, his hand sweeps up and grabs the pencil from his mouth, he can feel the indentations his teeth made as well as the slick saliva left by his lips and tongue. He pulls the magazine out from under his backpack, rolls it up, and stuffs it inside the partial opening left by a damaged zipper, and the frustrated tug that broke it weeks ago. The bell rings and like a herd of cattle the students rise quickly from their desks, cascading through the classroom as if their very survival depended on them being one of the first through the door. Very faintly, he can hear the shouting of his name, "Donovan, hey Donovan." The chatter of the students wedged in the doorway trying to escape the prison that has held them so long muffles the voice. It's hard for him to distinguish the originator; it sounds like his friend Jason yet at the same time reminds him of his ex-girlfriend Stephanie. Finally, as he rises from his desk, with backpack in tow, the herd cleared the doorway and he hears it again; "Donovan, hey Donovan" No mistaking the voice this time, it was Jason for sure, and he knows all Jason is going to want to do is brag about his family's vacation to Paris this summer. "I'm coming, I'm coming hold up a sec would yah" he yells to keep Jason from calling his name like some cliché scene from a sex movie. Donovan looks down at his worn Doc Martins, the shoelace he forgot to tie as he left his final day of Gym class hitting the floor; bouncing to and from the side of his shoe, striking the metal legs of the chairs next to him. As he passes the final row of desks he raises his head up, the presence of Jason startles him; almost seemingly appearing in front of him, as if to deliberately keep him locked up in this social prison. "Hey man, my parents are getting me my own room in Paris, can you fucking believe that!?" Jason enthusiastically yelps. "That's great, but uh, hey what do you need your own room for? Aren't you going to be in the country side of Paris?" "Yeah so, so what, you don't think the country side is going to have girls? What, just because I'm in the country I'm not going to meet some chick that wants to fuck my brains out?" Jason scorns. "Yeah man, yeah your right; I was just giving you shit bro, that's pretty cool" Donovan says hesitantly. He knows Jason is never going to get laid in Paris, he can't even get laid in Ohio and half of the girls in his class think he's God's gift to basketball. The problem is that Jason is a dweeb when it comes to dealing with girls; he attempts to treat them like a basketball, just handle them and expect they do what he wants. Not that Donovan was all that much better when it comes to girls either, he was still a virgin after all; but at least Stephanie let him feel her up after a school dance when her parents were away. Donovan, not wanting to hear another story about how good Paris was going to be says, "Hey, I gotta get my stuff from my locker and get home, Stephanie is s'posed to call me about a party tonight. You gonna come?" Jason, with a mixed look of sadness and joy says, "Nah man, I got to pack; our flight leaves at like 5am tomorrow". Donovan knew he was not going to be able to go and better yet, even if he did there was no party to go to anyways since he hadn't talked to Stephanie in weeks. "All right bro, have a good trip and don't forget to tell me about all of the freaky Paris girls you meet" he says with a slight bit of sarcasm. "Oh yeah, you know I'm going to get mine up in Le Paris, Parlez vous francais?" Jason laughs as he heads out the door. Donovan approaches his locker, puts his backpack down on the floor next to another empty one that rested unused all year. He puts his right hand on the cold plastic dial that has required him to perform the same mundane routine all year so he can have access to a simple, yet small, storage space. With the last spin of the dial landing on 12, and a slight tug of the metal handle, a stark "clank" sound resonates as the door vibrates open. The contents of this locker stared at him five days a week for so many weeks out of the school year. A slight breeze of sweaty cotton hits him in the face as he catches a whiff of the shorts he just removed from his Gym locker earlier in the day. He hastily picks up his backpack and with a quick pull of the zipper opens it up so he can cram the remaining contents in his bag. He bends down on one knee, plunges his hand into this locker, and loads his backpack up with all of its contents. He stands up while zipping his backpack as far as it will go, then grabs the locker door in his right hand; slamming it shut in one swift motion as he proceeds to dart for the exit. He takes his last step off the stairs that lead out of the school and is hit by a breeze of fresh summer air; suddenly his spirits are lifted, school is finally over; it's the last time he will touch these steps. He walks across the grass and heads to his left, eventually reaching the sidewalk that will lead him home just a few short blocks away. The heat from the sun radiates off the back of his neck, the light casting a shadow of his body in front of him makes him look heavy. He questions his own physique for a second as he studies his shadow. He's not as big as it portrays him to be as his body is more slender with form fitting clothes. He can see the first of two crosswalks he must go over before reaching his house and in the distance; he can hear some wailing sounds. Every step he takes closer to the crosswalk he can hear the sounds getting louder; "It's definitely a cop. I wonder who Jason got into a fight with this time?" he thinks to himself with a slight laugh. As he reaches the crosswalk, he looks to his left as that's the direction he believes the sounds of the sirens are coming from. He sees a couple of squad cars in the distance and followed by what looks like to be an ambulance soon after. He contemplates crossing the street, knowing he can make it before they reach him, but he knows the longer he waits, the less chance he has. "Fuck it" Donovan says aloud, he missed his opportunity to cross and now he will just have to wait for them to speed by. The first cop zooms by him spewing behind it a whirlwind of exhaust, kicking up the dust that was sitting on the road moments before. The second squad car passes and within a split second, the ambulance races through the cross walk, the gust of wind as they speed by blows hair into his eyes. The site was amusing to him, as if he was the flag bearer standing at the finish line of some kind of race, and coming in third place was the grand prize of him waiting. Donovan is annoyed that he had to wait for the cars to come by, and even more annoyed at himself for not crossing when he initially had the chance. He takes his first step into the road as familiarity strikes him again; he can see to his right the old Wilson house and Mr. Wilson outside mowing his lawn in his usual fashion; shorts with black socks and sandals. A couple houses down on the left and he can see the toys spread out in front of the Dolphane house; usually at this time, their eight-year-old daughter Misty is outside playing but today, on this of all days, Misty must be inside. He approaches the next crosswalk and wonders if there is going to be another race he must officiate, surprisingly, he feels let down that there is not; the conflicting emotions puzzle him slightly. He rests his feet on the curb, the stop sign waving by the slight breeze that just went through, "looks clear" Donovan thinks to himself as he crosses the street. The leaves from the Javane house hang above the sidewalk always requiring him to duck down; how he wishes he wasn't six feet tall anymore, this walk was so much easier when he was younger, when he was only five foot four. He can see his house now on the left, the light blue color of the siding; and black shudders he remembers painting last summer, still looking as though they're dripping with wet paint. Donovan makes a quick turn on his heals to head down his own personal sidewalk, the only sidewalk in the neighborhood that required his manual labor every winter. His is the only sidewalk that has to be shoveled every day before he can go to school and then needs to be shoveled when he gets home from school. He does all this knowing it is part of his allowance; the only money he can earn as his parents have yet to buy him a car, or even allow him to use their car although he passed his driver's license test a year ago. As he approaches the front door, he pulls the backpack off his right shoulder and dangles it just inches from the ground. He reaches out his left hand and grabs the handle, with a slight bend of his thumb and a forward leaning motion with his body the door opens as it usually does. Nobody locks their doors in this neighborhood when they're home, and his family doesn't lock the door when they leave either. He enters through the doorway and swings his right arm forward launching his backpack down the hallway as his left hand swings behind him to shut the door with just enough force to proclaim his arrival to his parents. The backpack hits the floor and slides forward until it hits and rests right beside a small table nestled against the wall in the small hallway. As he approaches the table, he notices the old brass lamp is on; and underneath the light, what appears to be a note. He bends over slightly to read what it says, recognizing his father's writing is easy. Van, Mom and I have a surprise for you when we get home that is very moving. Hope you can wait without it driving you mad. Love – Dad "Holy shit, I'm getting a fucking car!" Donovan enthusiastically says aloud. He suddenly becomes overwhelmed with joy, could this be the best day of his life? Could today not only be the last day of school, the start of summer, his eighteenth birthday and be the start of his freedom? He runs into the adjacent room and jumps over the couch landing firmly seated with his legs tucked underneath him to his right side. He reaches towards the coffee table, grabs the Direct TV remote and quickly turns on the flat screen his parents bought for a family Christmas present this past year. A couple of thumb presses later, the TV is on, and he is tuning to channel 501, HBO, the start of the premium movie channels. He scans the list of what is currently playing until he stumbles upon a movie he recognizes for having heavy amounts of sex scenes. "Sliver, I remember this movie; it has that one blonde chick and this guy owns the building and has cameras in every room and it has tons of sex in it" Donovan thinks to himself. "It's only half way through, that means this is when the sex scenes start to happen," he continues. He looks over to his left and sees that the curtains are drawn slightly, his heart starts racing; "what could make this day any better than to have a release" he thinks to himself. He gets up off the couch and heads to the other side of the room where a box of tissues are; grabs three sheets and then heads back towards the couch. He neatly places the tissues to his left and the remote to his right. He knows he can quickly change the channel if his parents arrive if he has the remote within quick grabbing distance. He hits select on the remote and the TV flickers; Sliver is suddenly playing on the screen, the sound of the music and lead characters kissing is very loud. He turns the volume down to just audible levels so he can hear if his parents come home and in case he is not quick enough; so they won't notice screaming and then some weird music when the channel does change. He unbuttons his pants and grabs his zipper; he can already feel his dick starting to grow from the excitement of what he is about to do, his pulse is quickening, and it looks as though Sharon Stone is starting to take off her clothes. The sound of his zipper opening is deafened by the heavy breathing heard through the TV speakers; the vibrations of the teeth separating as he pulls them apart sends chills through him. He reaches through the opening in his boxers and pulls out his half-erect cock. His right hand wraps around it as he starts to move his thumb in circular motions, pressing firmly but not too hard on the top of his shaft. He can feel himself growing in his hand; each caressing motion with his thumb sends a wave of pleasure through him. He is almost fully hard now, his hand just large enough to form a nice grip as he gives himself a slight tug. He can feel the skin of his dick gliding over the muscle that lay beneath it; every pull makes him harder and harder until it feels as though it is made of some indestructible material. As he pulls his hand off his cock the shear strength of his hard-on makes it snap towards his stomach. He lifts his right hand up to his face, rolling his tongue around inside his mouth as his light sucking causes his lips to purse, gathering saliva that still has the faint flavor of wood from the pencil he bit into a half hour earlier. He cups his hand under his lips and dribbles out a wad of spit the size of a quarter, the natural lubrication of his spit is sticky and slick at the same time. He closes his hand and uses the inside of his fingers to rub his palm, every time his fingers graze his palms they move easier and easier. He takes his hand and wraps it around his cock one more time, rotating his wrists from side to side making sure his spit coats his entire shaft for less friction. He slowly moves his clinched fist up his swollen cock until it reaches the brim of his cock head, then immediately and quickly he pulls his hand down to the base of his dick, his pinky finger making slight contact with his right nut. He then slowly pulls his hand up again while watching Sharon Stone straddle Steven Baldwin, catching a glimpse of her exposed pussy. He starts to move his hand faster, each time releasing his grip on the downward motions and then tightening it back up as he reaches the large mushroom shaped head of his pulsating cock. He can feel himself getting close, but becomes distracted by the increased friction as his spit starts to dry out. His mind is frantic; he wants to put more lube into his hand but doesn't want to stop jerking, if he stops, he might lose some of the momentum he has built up. He closes his eyes slightly as his stomach starts to feel queasy; his legs start to stretch out underneath the coffee table while his toes wiggle in his shoes. He starts to tighten his body, making his hard-on and stroking motions even more vigorous. He takes his left hand and gently grabs his balls while stroking slowly, with each stroke he gently pulls his sack down. While his left hand is waiting to pull his sack down the back of his left thumb is pressing against the underside of his shaft, the feeling resonates up to his tip, making his hole drip small amounts of pre-cum. He quickly tilts his head to the right, swings his hand up and forcibly spits into his palm, he closes his eyes fully and begins stroking again with a tighter grip. He can feel himself on the brink; he wants to hold it, he wants to savor the feeling, but knows he needs to finish before his parents get home; the moaning coming from the TV helps fulfill a fantasy that he is there. He shortens up the strokes and focuses on the underside of his circumcised cock head while quickening the tugging motions to his ball sack. He can feel his forefinger gliding over the underside of his cock head and as such can feel his cock head moving past his forefinger. He starts to make upward motions with his hand as it moves up to his head, maximizing the effect of his clinched fist rubbing the bottom of his fleshy helmet. He extends his forefinger with each tug, letting the side of it slide up the underside of his head until it hits the pre-cum leaking from his hole before forming a fist again on the downward strokes. He begins to get flushed in the face, his stomach muscles seem to be contracting all by themselves, his PC muscle flexing uncontrollably. His legs begin to tingle, as his breathing becomes sporadic and heavy; suddenly every part of his body seems to be alive with pleasure. His hand griping his cock tightly at the base, he can feel the warmth of his seed leaving his scrotum and traveling through his dick. He gives himself a firm tug on his sack as his cock head spews globs of spunk into the air, his legs fully outstretched as his toes spread as far as possible in his shoes. His body begins to tremble as his pelvis begins thrusting upward with every spurt escaping his engorged mushroom tip, gobs of sperm landing on his clenched hand, falling onto his thumb and forefinger that still squeeze his sack. He can feel the heat from every glob of his seed landing on him; he can feel it running down the back of his knuckles as his right hand is still clenched in a fist around his dick. He squeezes his cock harder; milking the remaining white paste and watches it spill out of his hole. He relaxes his once tense body and releases the grip of both hands from his slowly retreating testicles and shrinking cock. He takes his left hand and grabs the tissues, one at a time he wipes off his right hand, his knuckles, his palms and the shaft of his now limp cock. He takes the wad of tissues, folds them in half, places them in his right hand, and proceeds to wipe off the few drops that landed while tugging his sack. While bending and twisting his cock to get it back into his pants and boxers the underside of it grazes the zipper, the sensitivity of his cock makes it slightly painful. Donovan Chronicles: Awakening Ch. 01 He stretches his body out while reaching for the zipper, slowly lifting the zipper he holds his breath, he doesn't want any quick movements causing him to get caught in it. He stands up from the couch with soggy tissues in hand and proceeds to the bathroom to flush away the evidence. As the tissues swirl down their porcelain grave, he looks in the full-length mirror hanging on the back of the door, checking to see if any landed on his clothes. A quick look over and it seems he got away with it, he breathes a sigh of relief, he feels relaxed and refreshed. He sits back down on the couch and starts flipping through the channels again, he notices ESPN is running a special about old football legends; he decides it's innocent enough and quickly changes the channel. Another half hour goes by and he's interrupted by the sound of knocking at his front door. He gets up from the couch slowly, placing the remote on the coffee table and giving himself a quick once over to make sure he indeed, got everything cleaned up. He approaches the door, extends his right hand and turns the handle, his palms a little stickier then normal but this feeling is not exactly new to him. As the door opens, he is surprised to see a female police officer standing in the doorway. She looks normal enough, for a Cop; her dark brown hair neatly pulled back under her cap; her uniform fits her fairly well considering the only women who look flattering in these uniform's are strippers and dressed up housewives. Donovan's mind starts to race; he becomes overwhelmed with fright; "did someone see me, was somebody watching me and did someone call the cops?" Before he had the chance to say a word the police officer spoke "Is this the Rome residence?" "Um, yeah, yes that's us" Donovan hesitantly replied. "Are you Donovan Michael Rome?" the cop questioned with a lack of forcefulness. "Yes ma'am, I'm Donovan Rome" he hesitantly replied again. Without a chance to question why she was here she kindly says "May I come in Donovan?" Donovan was now slightly scared; his mind raced frantically, "I'm in trouble, my parents are going to find out, they're going to take away my car before I even get a chance to see it, I won't be able to step a foot in public". "Let's have a seat, is that ok Donovan? I need to talk to you about something that happened today". Donovan gulps "Um, yeah sure, yeah come in" his heart is racing, his palms becoming sweaty "I'm in so much trouble" he thought to himself. The cop examines the couch a little then proceeded to sit right in the spot he jerked off in before he had a chance to direct her towards the love seat just under the window. He sits down slowly, his stomach is in knots, he can barely open his mouth but eventually murmurs "So what's up, what's going on; am I in trouble?" The officer replies quietly "No son, you're not in trouble, but I'm afraid I have some terrible news for you". Donovan hates when older people call him Son but the anger he feels is replaced with worry because he still doesn't know why the police are at his house and why they want to talk to him. "Terrible news, are my parents ok?" Donovan asks frightfully. "I'm afraid not, they were involved in an accident today and rushed to the hospital," the cop says as she slowly removes her cap from her head, placing it in her lap as her thumbs caress the brim. Donovan's mind starts racing again, "why is she just sitting there, why is she not taking me to the hospital to see my parents". "Can I go see them; can you take me to see them?" Donovan asks. "I'm sorry son, I'm afraid they didn't make it, I know it's hard, but you have to understand that we tried to save them, we did everything we could, but it just wasn't enough; it was too late," she says quietly. "You mean my parents are dead, my parents are dead?" Donovan says as his eyes begin to well up. "Donovan, we are so sorry, we are so very sorry about what happened. Do you have any other family members or friends we can call to let them know what happened?" She says as she peers into his confused eyes. "Um, no, no; I don't, no, I don't think so; I can't, I don't know" Donovan stammers trying to hold his composure. By then it was hard for him to hold back his tears, his mind raced with all the bad things he has done, how he was just jerking off while his parents were dying; it pushed him over the edge. She can see him shaking, she knows he is about to break; break like so many others she has had to tell about loved ones passing. She gets up off the couch only high enough to clear the armrest and sits down on the loveseat next to Donovan. She wraps her left arm around him, with her hand resting on his shoulder. Donovan caves in, a large sigh of anguish escapes his lips as tears start falling from his cheeks, the woman pulls him closer and Donovan proceeds to lay his head on her shoulder as her right hand comes around and rests on the top of his head. Donovan starts speaking incoherently the words "Sorry, Oh My God, No, Why and Please No" all mush into one dreadful sound of pain and suffering. "Do you have any friends you can stay with tonight, any family members that might be able to come here?" She says as her chin now rests on his head. Donovan started to speak "Jason, I can call Jason" the words come out so fast only Donovan knows what is being said. "Jason is going to Paris I can't call Jason his parents can't take me Jason has wanted this trip and I don't have money to go and my parents would never let me go with him" he catches his breath, he can barely remember what he said. "I don't have any family members or friends I can stay with, my grandparents are dead except for my Grandma in the nursing home, I have an Aunt in Florida, and my friend is leaving for Paris at 5am." It took everything in him to spit out a cohesive sentence she could understand. The officer pulls her hand down to her side and removes her radio from a clip on her belt; she picks it up and presses a big black button protruding from it. "This is officer 228, I'm 10-23 requesting a 10-44, over" the sound of static as she finishes is quickly cut off by a woman on the other end "Copy that 228, your clear for 10-44, over" "Copy that, over and out". Donovan is only slightly confused, his mind still coming to grips with what he has just been told, he could care less about cryptic police codes. "Donovan, I called the station, I'll be able to stay as long as you need me since you have nobody to be with you, we are trying to make contact with your aunt," the officer says. "By the way, my name is Janet; I never told you my name" she immediately replies. "I'm here for you if you need anything but if you would prefer to stay someplace else, if you would rather not be here let me know" Janet says. "Thank you, I'll be ok here, I have my things here and I know where my things are" Donovan forces out. A few hours pass and Donovan's eyes start to regain the coloring they once had, before they became bloodshot by crying and wiping away tears. He sees Janet is in the kitchen, looks as though she's trying to be a mother and make something for him to eat, but he's not hungry; his stomach is too sore from the contracting of muscles caused by his whimpering. "I'm going to go to bed." Donovan proclaims towards Janet's direction. "Are you sure you don't want to eat something first, you could probably use a good meal right about now" Janet answers back. "It's ok, I'm not hungry. I just want to go to bed." Donovan says as he walks towards the staircase leading upstairs. He lands at the top of the stairs, bypassing the family photos of him through the years, many of which include pictures of his parents. He goes past a room on his right; inside you can see a neatly made bed, dressers that look antique and bottles of cologne and perfume nestled neatly on a vanity in the corner of the room. He approaches another doorway on his left; he takes his hands and places them down towards his waist, clinching his now half-soaked vintage t-shirt. He slowly lifts up the shirt as the cold dampness of it brushes his chin and nose, he can smell the salty aroma of sweat and tears. He lifts the shirt over his head and pulls his arms though the now inside out shirt one at a time, he balls it up and with his right hand throwing it into a dim room straight ahead. The shirt falls on the floor covering what looks to be a baseball only slightly used. He turns the corner, enters the room on the left, and with the flick of his left wrist the lights come on, filling the crevices of tile decorating the bathroom wall. He turns around and grabs the door with his right hand, slowly closing it as he kicks off his shoes; left first, then right. He reaches down to unbuckle his belt when he notices the position he was sitting on the couch with Janet caused his belt to leave an indentation right below his belly button. He reaches through a blue curtain depicting lighthouses and sailboats, the smell of the curtain was musty and the texture was of thick plastic. With his right arm, he pushes the curtain to his right, with his left hand he reached in and turns the single dial all the way to the right, then backs it off a little. Water spurts out of an old shower head at first, then, followed by a steady stream that brings with it a slight smell of chlorine. He pulls his belt forward with his left hand; it makes a slapping sound as it hits the wall to his left side. He unbuttons his pants and then pulls his zipper down, he takes both of his thumbs and nestles them between his boxers and his abdomen then bends over while pushing to remove both in one fell swoop. As he raises his body back up, he lifts each leg out of the pile of clothes and proceeds to kick them off to the side, resting against his shoes and the wall that props them up. He can smell the aroma of semen, the scent of sex as he would imagine it "I hope Janet didn't smell that" he thought to himself. He placed his right leg into the shower, he was lucky enough to set the temperature perfectly, then again, seeing as it was his shower he knew the exact position it needed to be in for it to be comfortable. He then places his left leg in the shower and quickly, and almost viciously, closes the shower curtain to the side of him. He reaches over to the alcove to his right side and grabs a bottle of body wash, it is not his; but his Dad always had good taste in that department. He turns around so the water is hitting him in the back, it's easier for him to wash himself this way; the water doesn't rinse away the soap he is using. He lathers up his hands and places them on his chest; the hair on his chest is not very full, it is doubtful he will have a hairy chest like he remembers of his father's. He slowly moves his hands down his stomach, washing in circular motions; using just enough pressure to feel his hands but not enough to feel he's being handled. He washes his abs, not very pronounced while relaxed but he flexes them nonetheless to admire his physique as he lathers them up. He reaches into the alcove again and grabs a bottle of shampoo, tilting his head back under the water; splashing the steamy chlorine scented stream across his face and hair. He tilts his head back down and lifts his left hand up to his face, his hand cupped in the same manner he cups it to hold his spit. He tilts the shampoo bottle over and squeezes out enough to fill the palm of his hand, immediately raising it up and placing it in his now soaked hair. He lathers his hair for a few moments and then moves his soapy hands down and starts rubbing his abdomen again, slowly moving down to his thick lock of pubic hair. His pubic hair is a light brown, almost the shade of the hair on his head and although curly, not tangled, as one would imagine. He then reaches in the alcove and grabs the same body wash he used earlier, he puts a small amount in his left hand and then proceeds to stroke his limp dick. As he's washing his dick with his left hand and washing his pubic hair with his right hand, blobs of soapy suds fall from his forehead and land on the head of his dick. The sight of him stroking himself is starting to turn him on, he can feel it growing in his hand; he can feel his heart beat as it travels through his veins and fills his cock with vitality that pulsates his hand. Suddenly he remembers jerking off earlier, remembers the officer arriving and then the guilt he felt when he thought of his parents calling for his help, but he was jerking off instead. Immediately his cock goes completely limp in his hand, his eyes start to well up again as he exasperates a "Fuck!" then tilting his head back to rinse the soapy froth encompassing it. He turns around and rinses his body, his hands moving swiftly; whisking away all the suds that once covered his chest and abdomen. The halls are darker now since he went into the shower; the humidity from the hot water makes what is usually a cool crisp hallway now billowed with heavy air. He exits the bathroom with a relatively small towel wrapped around his waist, holding it to his body with his left hand. The flower print that covers it suggests that maybe the linens and towels that are normally present are sitting downstairs in the pile of laundry his mother usually does every evening. He approaches the room at the end of the hall; you can see his t-shirt lying on the floor as he moves to reach inside. With a quick motion with his right hand, he shuts the door behind him and immediately slides his left hand up against the wall until it reaches the light switch that suddenly fills the room with a dingy glow. The towel that was once covering his waist is no longer supported by his clenched hand, and as such falls gently to the floor, leaving him fully exposed to his belongings. As he takes his first step into the room, his foot hovers over his t-shirt and without knowing it he places his foot directly on top of the baseball. His movement is chaotic; his body twisting and arms flailing trying to regain the balance that's been thwarted by the presence of such an innocent toy. He desperately tries to place his left hand on a small dresser against the wall, hoping it will give him the extra balance he will need to keep from falling. As his palm hits the top of the dresser, the dampness of his body against the cold highly polished wood creates a slick surface. His hand slides off the dresser, his body twists; he's falling to the floor and now all he can do is brace himself for the impact. Suddenly a loud "THUMP", his pride is hurt more than his backside and although frustrated and slightly irritated he starts to let out a slight giggle. At first it is quiet as if he was trying not to laugh at someone else's misfortune, then it grows until he gasps and lets out a single but much needed sigh. Suddenly the door opens, and Janet is standing in the doorway peering down at a naked body on the floor, her eyes filled with worry and at the same time satisfaction that this was not another suicide. Donovan's caught off guard; at first, he does not feel embarrassed as if for a moment he forgot he was completely naked on the floor. Janet says, "I heard a loud noise, are you alright, are you hurt, did you break anything?" She takes a few steps into his room; her initial reaction is to help him up as she would any fallen person she sees. The site of him naked on the floor however jolts her back into reality; he will have to ask for her assistance, she will not touch his naked body without it. Donovan still slightly giggling says "Nah, I'm alright; I just slipped on something, I'm ok Janet; thank you." Janet carefully closes the door behind her as she moves down the hall remembering the sight of his naked body lying on the floor. She was glad he wasn't hurt, glad he hadn't tried to kill himself as suicides are always the worst for her to deal with. Janet wasn't like many cops; she was fairly new to the force and she hasn't been able to separate her emotions from some of the horrendous things she has seen. She wanted to stay with Donovan, to comfort him, as he had nobody to talk to or anyone to tell him that everything eventually would be ok. Maybe it was the mother quality many women have that wanted to support Donovan, maybe it was just human nature for her to want to help him. As Janet reaches the bottom of the stairs she pulls out her cell phone from her pants pocket, flipping it open she quickly presses a few keys and then places it to her ear. "Hey, I'm at the Rome residence" a slight pause as someone on the other end converses back. "Yeah, yeah, I know, look; I'll be leaving in just a few minutes; I just need to wrap something up real quick" she says hastily. The look on her face becomes annoyed; she rolls her eyes while placing her hand on hip. "Jesus Christ, he needs to know what happened. What you want him to find out in the papers?" Donovan hearing her heightened voice brings him to the top of the stairs; his hair still damp and his frumpy clothes clinging to his body in different places. Janet turns around as she closes her phone, and her eyes make contact with Donovan's, looking him over; if it was any other circumstance it could be painted as a sexually tense scene. Instead her eyes and body turn back around, both of her hands on her hips as the look of frustration is scattered across her face. Donovan moves down the stairs, following her into the living room as she stares up at him from the couch motioning him to sit down. ************* Two days have passed, the funeral was very quiet; Donovan doesn't have many family members and his parents only had a few friends. His aunt Kristen flew in from Florida; she has been staying with him in the house ever since the police contacted her the night her sister Kimberly and Donovan's father Elliot died in a traffic accident. Donovan was able to get some more information about his parent's death prior to the funeral; Janet was kind enough to answer his questions before she left that evening. As Donovan was told, his parents just left the car dealership after picking up a present for his eighteenth birthday; his father in Donovan's new car and his mother in the family car right behind him. While sitting at a stop light a semitrailer approached the intersection directly across from his mother and father. The truck driver was older and on plenty of medications; he suffered a heart attack as he was approaching the stop light; the convulsions he was having caused him to press harder on the gas pedal instead of the break as he intended. The semi cleared the intersection as cross traffic was light that day and headed straight for Donovan's father. The truck struck Donovan's Dad and pushed him back into his mother's vehicle that was sitting in front of another Semi truck. The sheer momentum of the Semi was enough to crush his father's car between his mother's and the other truck behind her. Elliot died instantly but Kimberly sustained very severe injuries as the front end of the vehicle was crushed enough to push pieces of the engine compartment into her body. The cops raced past Donovan when he was at the crosswalk to answer the call of an automobile accident, his parents; pronounced dead at 3:18PM. Donovan gets out of a Taxicab followed by his Aunt Kristen who hands the taxi cab driver a twenty-dollar bill before shutting the door behind her. He looks up at the sign sitting above the doorway; it is made of what looks like brass hammered into the old stone masonry work that surrounds the large building. He squints his eyes so he can focus on the sign, it reads: Law offices of Berger & Strom. He looks behind him as his aunt reaches for his hand, "Well, this is it, let's go in and get this taken care of as quickly as possible so we can move on, hey?" she says in a quaint voice. His Aunt is a petite woman; she resembles his mother with her long brown hair and light brown eyes. Her eyebrows penciled in like models in magazines; her makeup applied just right as if she was going to a photo shoot and her lips covered with a dark shade of red lipstick. His mother never got dressed up like this; Kristen was the younger daughter and her job at a law firm in Florida meant she could afford nice clothes and nice things. Donovan reaches over and pulls open a heavy door that looks as though it came from some old castle; "I hope this doesn't lead to a torture chamber" he jokingly thinks to himself. Donovan Chronicles: Awakening Ch. 01 They walk into a narrow hallway, the walls lined with marble and gold leaf accents. The desk they're approaching is old and large, the decorative work on the legs is exceptional; the finish work is dark; the desk is intimidating. Yet, as if to ease those who approach it a young woman sits behind it; her blonde hair tucked behind her ears and big blue eyes calling you so invitingly. "May I help you ma'am?" the receptionist asks. "Yes; we have a one o'clock appointment with Mr. Berger for Donovan Rome." Kristen replies. "Sure thing, right this way; please follow me" the receptionist responds as she elegantly stands up from the chair behind the desk. She is wearing a surprisingly short black skirt with a pink blouse tucked in. Her skin is tan and her diamond necklace, earrings and engagement ring sparkle like twinkling lights as she moves through the hallway. She approaches a big set of double wooden doors with large handles and a well placed knocker at waist height. She lifts the knocker; it looks heavy as the right side of her neck tenses up exposing the veins and ligaments supporting it. "Bang....Bang.......Bang" is the loud and deep sound the door makes as the pretty secretary swings the door knocker down, hitting the wood underneath it. "Come in" a faint voice is heard within, Donovan is somewhat scared; this place seems very intimidating and he's always heard bad things about old Mr. Berger and Mr. Strom. Donovan walks in and is greeted by an older man sitting behind an even more intimidating desk; his aunt follows him and proceeds to head to her left in a direct line to an old leather chair. Donovan notices his aunts' movements and he himself proceeds to the chair that accompanies it to its right. As they get closer to the chairs the old man says "Please, please have a seat; we will get started right away." Donovan and his Aunt carefully sit down in the cushy leather chairs, all Donovan can smell in the room is sweet cigars and the familiar smell of old people. The man looks down at his desk and grabs a leather bound folder in his right hand, pulls is left hand up and begins to unwind a piece of string that's binding it shut. "Ok, well Donovan; you were lucky enough for your parents to have made a will. I can't tell you how many times people in your situation have come into my office with no guidance left behind by their loved ones" Mr. Berger says. "I'm very sorry for your loss son; I'm hoping the contents of this will are able to help you start a new life while remembering those you lost along the way." "Now, in the matter of their death of Mr. Elliot Mathew Rome and Mrs. Kimberly Lynn Rome I have their last will and testament." Mr. Berger proclaims. "Donovan, your parents saw too it to give you all of their belongings; including the house and the contents within. They have also given you the contents of their safety deposit box and savings accounts." Mr. Berger explains. "The amount you shall receive from the sale of these items is $36,128.23." Before Mr. Berger could finish, Kristen interrupts him. "I'm sorry; the sale of these items, doesn't Donovan get to decide what to do with these items Mr. Berger". Mr. Berger clears his throat and with a slight hint of annoyance, "Mr. and Mrs. Rome had debt that needed to be paid yet on the house, as well as dept needed to be paid for Mrs. Rome's college loan. The items in their savings account and safety deposit boxes were not sufficient to pay these loans. As such I'm afraid to say the house must be sold to cover the remaining debt, the vehicle your father was in did not have insurance and the man who was driving the truck did not have insurance as well" he finishes. As he gathers his breath, he says "You can go after the man who killed your parents in a civil suit if you believe you are entitled to more money." Immediately Kristen says "Yes, yes I believe we will do that; let's go Donovan." Mr. Berger calls out quickly before she gets the chance to stand up "Please, the will still has a stipulation for the money he is about to receive. I'm sorry, the instructions his parents left said he is supposed to stay with," he looks down and reads from the will "a Mr. and Mrs. James Vitter of North Carolina" for one year before he is allowed to receive the money or he must wait until the eve of his twenty-first birthday" Donovan starts to remember the funeral services and how a man and woman with that name approached him as if they knew him his whole life, they spoke to him earlier very fondly of his parents. Donovan remembers them slightly from the distant past; when he was a young boy and his family would visit them during the summer, visions of a young boy and a younger girl. He remembers very little but doesn't understand why his parents would force him to live with people he barely knows and why he is not staying with his only living relative. "What, the Vitter's? Kim and Elliot were friends with them in college but Donovan needs that money for school, he needs that money to move on with his life" Kristen yells. "I'm sorry, it is in the will and by law we cannot refute it; I'm sure Mr. and Mrs. Rome had a reason and I'm sure the Vitter's would be able to answer any questions young Donovan might have." Mr. Berger said anxiously. Another day has passed, and a for-sale sign has been posted on the lawn his mother and father cared for his entire life. A moving van is parked across the street; its tires worn and peeling paint suggest the contents going into the van may be of little value. Donovan sits on the steps watching two Hispanic men wearing grey jumper suits loading cardboard boxes overflowed with his things into the van. Another truck is parked behind it, it is a much nicer truck and the materials being loaded into this vehicle are being handled much more carefully as a man in a business suit catalogs the items being loaded. Suddenly Donovan spots a couple of movers bringing out the flat screen he enjoyed watching so much this past year. He hopes for a moment the people loading up the van will make a mistake, preying they load it into the van carrying his things. It does not come to pass; the TV is loaded, cataloged and neatly placed inside the van as the worker swiftly closes the two doors, sealing its contents for its final move. Donovan's heart sinks in his chest, not about the TV leaving him; but remembering the last thing he was watching as his parents passed away. It figures, on all days to lose his parents items, of all days to have to drive across the country to live with a new family; this all happens because of the events that transpired on his birthday; the day in which his parents intended to give him his first car. Kristen exits the front door and places a hand on Donovan's shoulder as to signify that the time has come for him to leave his home for the last and final time. Donovan stands up slowly, his head swimming with thoughts and memories of the time he has spent in this very spot, the days he stared out into the street when he was only six watching the leaves change colors. A taxicab pulls up in front of his house as he turns around to hug his aunt goodbye. The smell of her clothes that she washed in his house, with his family's washing machine and detergent reminds him of his mother. His mind races to the trip that lay ahead of him, the sights he might see that excite and frighten him at the same time. Donovan enters the taxicab, the seat is old and cold, ripped with pieces of Duct tape holding it together; this is not going to be a comfortable ride and he knows it. The moving van containing his few, yet personal items pulls forward; the taxi cab driver turns the car around and proceeds to follow it. They're heading towards his school as they stop at the first intersection, the breaks of the taxicab squeal, and the sound of grinding metal pierces his ears like nails on a chalkboard. They roll through the first intersection and he can see young Misty Dolphane playing in the front yard of her parent's house to his right. He looks to his left to see if he can spot Mr. Wilson outside; mowing his lawn in his terrible outfit that plagues Donovan's mind, but he is not there; the grass looks un-kept and that's unusual for Mr. Wilson. As the taxicab approaches the second intersection Donovan's stomach starts to drop; visions of squad cars speeding towards them, crashing into them, sending him to his grave plague his already fragmented mind. The taxicab continues; quickly speeding by his old high school, his mind focuses on Jason; his friend in Paris who is unaware of what has happened and who won't be around to tell stories of sexual conquest. It's dark now; the lights lining the street in this new suburb, this new city, in this new state; resemble nothing he has seen before. They lost the van before they were able to cross the state line; Donovan remembers hearing the taxi cab driver mumbling as the van weaved through speeding traffic on the highway. Donovan has no idea how long the van has been sitting outside this new home, if it has already been unpacked, or if they were simply awaiting his arrival. The taxi cab driver inches the car closer to the van making it impossible for anyone to unload it "Is this guy just trying to be a dick" Donovan thinks to himself. A flickering light shines from a house directly adjacent from the moving van ahead of them; its dim light illuminates a small porch with white wicker furniture. He can see the coloring of the house resembles that of his old home, white accents embrace the door frames and wooden handrails erected along the steps. The front screen door opens, a faint figure of a woman stands underneath the light; her arms waving feverishly as though she's trying to flag down the paper boy who skipped her house once again. Donovan exits the cab and slowly marches up the sidewalk while glancing around at neighboring houses and vehicles that litter the street and driveways. He walks up the steps as the woman moves to the side and gently reaches her arm out to usher him into his new home. As he takes his first steps in, the woman swiftly moves along his side and turns around in front of him; like an eager salesman trying to pitch her wares. She has straight sandy blonde hair, her bangs parted at the middle as her hair flows behind each small and flushed ear neatly tucking it in place. Her vivid blue eyes peek through her dark mascara, the blush on her cheeks accents her perfect complexion, her full lips slightly broken exposing glimmering white teeth. She's wearing a tight fitting v-neck shirt; the straps of her bra are shadowed along every crevice of the sun colored apparel. She smiles genuinely at Donovan exposing more of her perfect teeth as she takes a deep breath that heaves her ample breasts forward allowing the white colored bra to show through the overly stretched shirt she adorns. The shirt barely covers her; with each breath she takes the shirt rises revealing a tanned and tone stomach that lay beneath it. A brown belt with a gold clasp glimmers in the light that's shining directly above her, the texture of the leather shows vividly as darkness fills the crevices that the shadow cast upon it. She is wearing a pair of short faded blue shorts that only go half way down her thigh, they seem to fit her firmly as her skinny hips and thighs fill them in completely. He can see her mound forcing its way into the front of her shorts, breaking the straightness of her perfectly flat lap; this causes his pulse to quicken. "Donovan, it's so good to see you again, please, please come inside and rest a little; you must be exhausted from that drive" she says to him. "I have a fresh towel in the bathroom down the hall and put fresh sheets on Mike's bed for you". Donovan remembers the name; he remembers the beach and an older boy named Mike who used to push him into the cold water. "That must be their son," he thought to himself and feeling slightly guilty "But where is Mike going to sleep" Donovan replies. "Oh heavens, Mike got his own place during his senior year in college; he hasn't lived here in ages" the woman replies. Donovan is struggling to remember her name; it was so chaotic at the funeral and wake with him just trying to come to grips with what happened as neighbors constantly reminded him of how sorry they were. "I know it starts with a G, Ginger, no, Jenny, no that's with a J; Georgia, ugh what is it; I can't call her ma'am the whole time and I'm definitely not calling her mother" he thinks to himself. He starts to think back to words and names that sounded familiar, it's right at the tip of his tongue but he can't seem to spit it out. "Gale, yeah, Gale Vitter that's it, that sounds familiar" he thinks to himself "Thanks Gale" he says with a look of accomplishment on his face. "Oh, no problem dear, if you need anything James and I will be in the kitchen; he should be home from school any moment" Gale responds. "James Vitter, at school this time of night; that doesn't make much sense" Donovan thinks to himself as he shuffles his feet down the hall. He notices a light coming from a doorway to his right; he turns his head slightly and focuses his eyes inside as to not look to obvious. He sees the room is painted a light rose color with blotches of pink scattered throughout; the dresser has picture frames standing tall and proud; but he cannot see who is in the pictures. A closet with two French doors is open half way on the outer wall, revealing pastel colored clothes and an abundance of worn blue jeans. As he steps another foot forward he can now see the other side of the room, a large bed lay in the corner; a young woman laying on her stomach with her legs curled up and feet pointing at the ceiling. Her blond wavy hair flowing off her head and face; resting on pink blankets as her body lay in the opposite direction she would sleep in. A pillow is nestled under her chin, her eyes focused down towards a magazine while white streams of plastic connect her red IPod to the ears hidden beneath her stringy hair. Donovan notices another door to his right with a light immediately past the bedroom with the reading girl. He can tell by the colors and texture of the walls that it must be the bathroom; he turns his head to look inside and sees a large blue towel folded on the large sink with stone accents surrounding an oval mirror. He takes a few more steps to look into the only remaining doorway; it surprises him that the last room would be on his left, as the hallway seemed to be on the left side of the house. He peaks his head inside and notices a room with dark blue colored walls, the ceiling painted white and the furniture inside looks very contemporary. A glass nightstand accompanies a bed only a foot off the ground, the wood is dark and the flat piece that supports the mattress extrudes almost a foot on each side. He can barely make out what looks to be a couple of drawers that support the bed, as if the bed was merely placed on top of a busted dresser by a carpenter with little to no skill. Donovan turns around and heads back towards the bathroom, moving swiftly and quietly so as not to catch the reading girl's attention. He slides into the bathroom and slowly shuts the door behind him; he is anxious and nervous but feels more confident in such a closed area. He notices the bathroom does not have a tub, but instead has two large plastic panels lightly frosted sitting only a few inches above the floor. He reaches his hand towards the panels and spots a recess within the one to his left. He puts his fingertips in the recess and gently pushes the panel to his right; the soft sound of rollers fills the small bathroom as the door slides open. He is taken aback slightly as the shower does not resemble anything he has seen before, his home or the hotels his family stayed at during vacations where neither this large nor elaborate. This shower had a very large shower head on top and then six smaller ones running down the wall. He looked to his right and saw on the opposite side two more shower heads with a separate knob in-between them. He quickly turns around and starts reaching up towards his chest, his fingers resting on clear buttons that are holding his white cotton shirt closed. His fingers move effortlessly from one button to the next, each time a button was undone his hands would separate his shirt from his body. As he unbuttoned the very last he took both hands and gripped the shirt at the bottom; twisting and pulling the shirt off of his shoulders and placing it around his back. He lets go of his grip, the white shirt slides off his shoulders and falls to the floor as his hands easily slide through the short sleeves letting it float down to the cold bathroom floor. He looks down at the button holding his black pants together, his eyes focus to his left foot as it moves forward allowing his right shoe to catch the back of his left heel. He pulls his left foot back and the shoe falls off his foot and lands on the floor with a "flop"; he immediately proceeds to follow suit with his other shoe. His eyes focus back up to his pants as his finger grasp the top of his jeans, his right hand pulling the right side of his jeans towards his stomach as his left fingers twist his left side of the pants away from his body. His zipper, heavily worn, begins to unzip itself as the tops of his jeans begin to part. Underneath his dark pants the light blue cotton of his boxer shorts peak through the now growing opening. He slides his thumbs between his stomach and the elastic of his boxers and pushes them towards the floor, the heaviness of his clothes does not require him to bend over; they fall to the floor without hesitation. He kicks off his socks and steps into the shower with great caution, curious on how the sprayers work and even more curious on how such a lightly frosted glass provides privacy to those in the shower. He turns the large knob facing directly at him to the right, following the arch as the color painted on the knob turns from blue to red. He immediately is hit with cold water from all of the spouts surrounding him, he tries his best but cannot contain from releasing a slight yelp. "This is fuck'n, cold; holy shit" he mumbles quietly as to not offend anyone who might be able to hear him in this unfamiliar house. The water warms quickly and his hands start to mess with the individual sprayers, directing them at different areas of his body. The sensation of all of these streams of water hitting him in places he has never experienced before was exhilarating. He sees a large raised platform in the corner of the shower; it looks big enough to sit on as it holds countless bottles of shampoo and body wash. He can see a pink and blue razor sitting in a small alcove under the two spouts hitting his backside. He reaches for a bar of soap sitting by itself away from the other bottles on the platform; he picks it up and brings it under his nose to take a whiff. He can smell a hint of rain and the sweet smell of freshly washed cotton linen, the soap was slimy; the words that were once written on it can no longer be read. He begins to suds up his torso; every movement he makes with the soap the more the scent of it fills the air surrounding him. His eyes catch the sight of the pink razor again; he picks it up to examine it, to determine what kind of use a woman's razor gets in this house. He looks at the shaft that holds the white pivoting head, its strong and firm but looks fairly new. He then spots the three blades with a worn blue strip underneath them, much like his and his father's razor they had at home. Out of the corner of his eye he catches a glimpse of a small hair stuck between the blades, he recognizes the shape and size and immediately puts the razor back into its hiding place. Suds begin traveling down his body now and his flaccid dick is covered in bubbles; he reaches down with his right hand to wash it, the bubbles giving way to the flesh that lay underneath it. He gives himself a slight tug; taking his other hand and pushing the remaining soap down and under his sack. Out of the corner of his eye he can make out a figure standing on the other side of the frosted glass, he can see the yellow top and blond hair through it and the steam. Donovan Chronicles: Awakening Ch. 02 This is a continuation of the story revolving around a young man named Donovan and the people he meets and experiences he has along the way. For those new to this story you can pick up from this chapter as I have done my best to keep many important details present. * Donovan woke up the next morning and the events that took place the previous night seemed to be a dream but the tiredness of his eyes quickly reminded him it was not. He could smell the aroma of breakfast foods permeating his room; tip toeing around his nose as if only to tease him by what was not in his grasp. Reaching down to grab his shirt, the clock on his nightstand revealed his ability to slumber as its digital face confirmed he slept in late. Pulling the shirt over his head, the sweet smell of Vicky's lingering perfume ushered away what his stomach was craving. He walked out of his room and moved down the hall, the sound of incoherent voices had him nervous of the conversations that may have been taking place. As he entered the kitchen, he saw Gale and Vicky sitting on bar stools that surrounded the counter as it raised from the floor in the middle of the room. Gale, while holding a coffee mug in her hands slowly brought it up to her lips, carefully sipping it as the steam arose and swirled around her head. Vicky was sitting across from her resting her elbow on the table as her hand cradled her chin. He could see Vicky picking at her food, similar to how he remembered doing the same thing to the peas his mother used to put on his plate when he was much younger. "Well good morning Donovan, I hope Mike's bed was comfortable enough for you last night" Gale said cheerfully. "Come, come, have a seat. Vicky and I were just enjoying a couple of homemade waffles, would you like some?" she politely asked. "Uh, yeah, sure why not, thanks" he responded while trying to catch a glimpse of Vicky's eyes. He reached the counter and took a seat on the outside edge, Vicky to his left and Gale's empty plate to his right. Vicky still hadn't looked up at him yet, still picking at her food, using her fork to push her strawberries to the corner of the plate as if they were cattle and she a farm hand. "Here you go dear. I hope you like strawberries. It's the only fruit we keep in the house. James is too picky about fruit, I'll tell yah" Gale said, as the smile never left her face. Donovan grabbed his fork and began to cut away a piece of his breakfast when Vicky finally looked up at him. He wasn't sure what to expect. Would she smile at him as if nothing happened last night, would she look at him with pity because of his breakdown, or would she look at him passionately as he had hoped? The look on her face confused Donovan. It was a look that had a little bit of anger, a dash of sadness, and a hint of solitude to it. Donovan thought to himself "well, at least she doesn't hate me, or, at least I don't think she does anyways." Donovan began to speak when Gale interrupted him, "Vicky seems to have come down with a case of the whispers this morning." Donovan's look at her could only be one of confusion, "a case of the whispers?" he asked. Gale giggled to herself before answering, "I think she's horse dear, she might be coming down with something; you two better keep your distance if you don't want to come down with one of our North Carolina colds, they getcha." Vicky's look towards Donovan changed, the dash of sadness still showed, but the hint of solitude didn't, but anger; yeah, anger was there. His insides twisted like a tourniquet as a knot formed in his stomach; he no longer felt like eating, he actually started to feel nauseous. It's obvious Vicky was mad at him and he felt shitty that he probably ruined the relationship, the one he was forming in his mind at least. Gale took her coffee cup as she stood, grabbed Vicky's plate and placed it on her own; the sound of flatware and ceramic resonated as they collided. While heading towards the sink she said, "Well, I gotta go to work you two. I'll be home late tonight b'cause Cousin Martha is having us girls over for a bridge party". The excitement on her face brought a giggle out of Donovan; her wide smile and cheerful jester was something he only saw in movies. Donovan started to eat as the knot in his stomach slowly faded. He could hear the sound of the door closing behind Gale, and the emptiness of the house amplified the sounds of his fork as it scraped his plate. Vicky stood up from her stool and grabbed Donovan by the hand, leading him into the living room across the hall. She led him to a couch on the outside of the room, her body positioned itself next to his as the cushions embraced her. She began to speak but all Donovan could hear was the raspy sounds of her voice as it strained on her vocal chords. With a slight cough and a hard swallow, her confidence grew and she began to speak again. "Donny, you were too forceful with me last night. If I wasn't drunk, I wouldn't have taken you deep like that, and even if I was going to, I would be much more careful because of your size." Donovan was taken back, as the only thing he could remember at first was the mention of his size; the last thing he would've done is considered himself hung. "My size?" Donovan asked, as he looked into her eyes. "Yeah, you're a little bigger than the guys I've been with and it hurt my throat, that's why I can't talk today" she whispered back, the strain of her talking looked uncomfortable. "I'm so sorry, I didn't know; I've never had a blowjob before and nobody ever said I was big. You seemed so into it, but maybe I went overboard," he said while he contemplated her excuse for being horse. He wanted to mention all the screaming and yelling she did at the party all night, but if she insisted it was because of him, well, he didn't want to upset her by disagreeing with her. Plus it was a good ego boost if she believed it to be true anyways, what guy doesn't like a compliment like that.. "Your first blowjob; are you serious? Oh my God Donovan I didn't know" she responded, the look of anger and frustration wiped from her face; as the look of pride and sadness replaced it. "Um, yeah; I mean I've fooled around a bit with my ex-girlfriends and all, but, shit, I got--, I'm sorry". He answered back; slightly embarrassed that he let slip about his inexperience. "Wait, Donovan, tell me the truth; are you a virgin?" Her eyes looked into his with a slight twinkle as she thought she knew the answer to this question too. Donovan didn't answer. He brought his lips into his mouth and bit down on them, as his face became flushed, he couldn't bring himself to look her in the eyes. He started to look nervous and Vicky could read his body gestures like a book. "Holy shit Donovan, you mean you've never--," Vicky placed her head in her hands, at a loss for words, as Donovan could do nothing more than look around the room feeling embarrassed and ashamed. The silence only lasted for a moment when Vicky lifted her head and moved across the couch closer to him. She turned her body so she was now facing him with her leg folded on the couch in front of her and she asked, "Can I be your first?" The abruptness of the question startled him for a moment; the idea of her asking to be his first was turned around in his head for a brief second. At first he wanted to say no, as if he was asking her to lose her virginity to him, but his mind corrected itself to the real question that was asked. "Yeah, yeah I would like us to" he responded, the feeling of embarrassment slowly left him as the feeling of anticipation overwhelmed him. "I'm going to teach you so much, your girlfriends are gonna love me for it" she said with gusto. Donovan's feelings were hurt slightly; "Was she only willing to have sex with me for sport, did she not like me the way I was starting to like her" he asked himself. "By the time I'm through with you, you'll be lucky if I don't keep you for myself" she said, with just as much gumption. The last part stuck with Donovan. It was all he needed to hear to feel better about the arrangement. Her intentions were not to just use him and throw him away; it sounded to him like she wanted to be with him but maybe she was afraid all he wanted was sex from her. "You're not going to tell Carla about this too are you" he asked with his eyebrow raised. "Tell Carla, why would I tell Car, oh; yeah, about the party" she grabbed Donovan's hands in her own and rested them on her knee. "Carla wants you, so does Becky; I told them I saw you in the shower. Don't worry I didn't mention you doing, you know with yourself" she let out a slight giggle. To explain herself; she continued. "We were talking about you and they said you had a nice body, and I was like 'I know I saw him in the shower' and that's when they started laughing and pointing at you. I knew you wanted me when you stared at me in my room. You didn't think I didn't notice did you?" she asked with a big smile on her face. "Awe come on; I wasn't touching myself in the shower; you're never going to let that go are you" he asked playfully, yet serious at the same time. "Look, if I told Carla what you were packin', and that you were a virgin, she'd beat down this door and rape you, just to spite me" Vicky said while she clinched Donovan's hand. Donovan liked his ego being bolstered, so he played along, "Yeah, but she'd have to beat you and Becky off of me with a stick first" "You little shit, don't get cocky; just because I wanna fuck you and stuff doesn't mean you get to be all high and mighty. Besides, I ain't telling Carla shit, and you better not either." The conversation came to an abrupt end when James opened the front door; Vicky quickly repositioned herself on the couch as Donovan stood up and walked towards him. "Hey Mr. Vitter, I was just about to head to the garage and grab my things" Donovan said as he reached for the door. "Great timing then; well then, what are we doing waiting here for? Let's go" James responded excitingly. James must have thought it would be easier to unload all of these boxes without having to move through the small doorway as the garage door was wide open. As they entered the garage the smell grass clippings and gasoline was overpowering to him, his eyes closed briefly as that scent was the same here as it was back in Ohio. Looking around quickly he could see two old kid bicycles hanging from wooden posts that line the unpainted walls. Old chalk outlines of smiley faces and fighter planes still remained visible as they were proudly displayed on the far wall with both Vicky's and Mike's name above them. Other smaller boxes lined that wall with Mike's name in black marker femininely scribbled all over them. His attention went back to the task at hand as James reached in front of him to grab a box. "Alright, let's go, I only have about an hour and we should spend some time catching up" James said as he grabbed it. Donovan could see his boxes piled neatly, forming columns of brown cardboard that towered everything else in sight as James movement brought his attention to them. Donovan followed suit by grabbing a box himself; leaving out the garage door and into the house as his head looked behind him at the contents of their garage. "So what do you do Mr. Vitter; I mean, where do you work" Donovan asked politely. "Please, just call me James. We don't need to be that formal. I'm a professor at the local college" James replied politely with a smile on his face. James' answer helped Donovan understand his working hours, and why he had to go back to school the first night he arrived there. They put the first set of boxes down in Donovan's bedroom, they neatly arranged them so they themselves could form towers. James seemed to be moving rapidly and Donovan wasn't sure why he was in such a hurry. Each time Donovan went back into the garage he tried to study the boxes that lined them; wondering what contents would Mike leave behind that his parents would not throw away. They moved through the house quickly; grabbing boxes and stacking them until the last one was positioned carefully on the then leaning mass of cardboard. "You can store these in Mike's old closet if you like. Gale and I went through it before you got here and made sure it was empty enough to store your things" James said as he swung the closet door open eagerly, as if only to brag about that accomplishment. "Cool, thanks, I wasn't sure where I was going to put all of it when I saw my room last night" Donovan said as he peered into the closet, examining its crevices quickly before James hid it away from his view. Donovan began thinking about the boxes in the garage and his now empty closet; he felt guilty that they were forced to move their sons belongings to a lifeless garage just so he would have a place to store his things. Donovan began to leave the room when James interrupted him. "Hey, let's sit down and have a talk, we have a lot to catch up on. How was the party with Vicky last night?" James asked. "Um, ok; nothing too crazy, just a regular party" Donovan responded, feeling slightly guilty to what he did with his daughter the night before. "That's good, Vicky can be quite a handful, but her heart's always been in the right place, even when her mouth gets her in trouble" James said. Donovan couldn't help but laugh inside. The visions of what her mouth was doing last night certainly made that statement true. "Yeah, I like her, she's been very friendly with me since I got here, she has some interesting friends too, even if they are Tar Heels" he said with a laugh. As James' tone got more serious Donovan thought it was something he said about the Tar Heels, but the look in his eyes however suggested it might be something more. "Donovan, you probably have a lot of questions, and you probably want to know why your parents sent you to live with us, instead of your Aunt Kristin. I'm afraid I might have some awkward news for you and if you want to leave, I'll see to it that you can get your money next year, even if you don't live with us anymore." Donovan's pulse started to race, guessing that whatever bomb James was about to drop on him was going to be huge; his heart felt like it was an alien ready to jump from his chest. "Um, ok, what's wrong?" "Donovan, your mother was a star student of mine; that's how we met. She was very eager to learn and eventually my feelings for her, and hers for me, well, they kind of developed into something more". Donovan didn't like where this conversation was going, and he began to speak when James interrupted him. "Donovan, I'm your father. I'm so sorry you have to find out like this, I thought your parents were going to tell you sooner." His statement took Donovan back; he replayed what James said in his head to make sure he heard him correctly. "I think they thought you would never need to know. It wasn't until a lawyer contacted me explaining the contents of their will that I figured it out" James said as he put his arm around Donovan. The shock of it all was too much for him, and he didn't quite know what to make of it; his mind tried to come to grips that his father, Elliot, was not his real dad. He questioned if the things Elliot did for him and with him mattered less because he wasn't his biological father. The thought of him yelling at him when he got in trouble made him question his father's love for him, wondering if he would have been just as hard on him if he was born from Elliot's seed. He often wondered why Elliot and himself didn't share the many characteristics he thought he would grow into. His father had such a hairy chest, a larger nose and smaller ears as compared to him; he thought his father was attractive enough but he never really saw much of himself in him growing up. James didn't say another word; he just looked at Donovan and could see his confused green eyes staring back at him. His heart was heavy as he noticed tears that formed in Donovan's eyes caused the light to bounce off as he tried to look away. "We're here for you Donovan, we knew this day could come; we were just hoping it would be under better circumstances" James said trying to settle Donovan down. "If there is anything you need us to do, anything you would rather us do; please let us know." "Why didn't you marry my mother, how did she end up with my dad" Donovan asked with a slight inflection in his voice. "Your mother and Elliot were dating, I was married to Gale; and, well, things got really complicated from that point on" James responded. "But, that doesn't mean that I never cared for your mother; I cared for her deeply and it hurt me when Elliot and her decided to move to Ohio after you were born. They used to bring you up to see us regularly, and while you played on the beach, we used to talk about when we were going to tell you." James said softly. "I've always loved you Donovan, I kept a spot in my heart for you, hoping that one day we would meet, hoping you would know by looking at me that I was your father." James said as he strained to maintain his composure. "I never wanted you to leave; I sent you birthday cards and imagined what it must have been like to be Elliot; to have you as my son. I don't want to replace Elliot Donovan; I just hope that someday, you can look up to me as you did to him." Donovan just sat on his bed speechless. He didn't even know what to say at that point; he couldn't possibly be told any more news that would make him feel any worse than he did at that very moment. He stared in silence, trying to soak in all that James had told him, coming to grips with the secret his parents held from him for so long. He wanted to comfort James, he wanted to open a part of him up to him but was conflicted, torn between the feeling of betraying the memory of his dead father and embracing the love of his newly found birth parent. Just as he was about to make peace with it, to try and accept it and move on, Vicky walked into the room. "Hey Dad, want Pizza tonight; Mom's not coming home till late?" Donovan's jaw hit the floor, it was then, just then when she said "Dad" that he felt like he was going to paint the walls with his breakfast. "Donovan, you ok; you feeling all right, do you need a glass of water or something," James asked as he saw him getting pale. "No, no I don't need a glass of water, I just, I just need some time alone for a minute" Donovan said politely while his stomach twisted and turned inside of him making him feel woozy. The only thoughts running through his mind right then were of him and Vicky the night before and her calling James Dad; the same Dad that is technically his Dad too. The room started to spin as Donovan's eyes slowly blinked themselves closed. James couldn't do much to help him, he just had to sit back and watch as Donovan passed out right there in the room. By the time Donovan awoke, the sun was barely peeking through the trees and the shining streetlights confirmed that the day was half over. He rolled himself out of bed, his stomach still feeling ill; the recognizable sensation drove him towards the bathroom. Making his way down the hall he approached Vicky's room, glanced inside it quickly but she was not in it, he couldn't have been happier. Every place he went in that house, the kitchen, the bathroom and even his very own bedroom he was happy that Vicky was not in them. His mind kept playing the scene over and over again. "Hey Dad want pizza, hey dad, dad" he could barely keep himself together, the shame, the guilt; the ridicule of what they had done frustrated him. He needed to tell Vicky; he had to tell Vicky before she tried something with him, before she...kissed him again. The thought of them kissing brought a familiar feeling to his mouth, the inescapable indication that his stomach contents were about to be removed. He did his best to focus on large objects; anything he could set his eyes onto that would keep him from feeling dizzy; keep the kitchen from spinning. Donovan Chronicles: Awakening Ch. 02 He heard the slam of a door, hoping it was James; heck he would be perfectly content if it was Gale too; but he could tell by the soft footsteps that Vicky was home. He froze for a moment, standing there with the refrigerator door open, the chilled air swept by him as he tried to think of a way to escape her sight. He didn't make it far down the hall before her voice stopped him dead in his tracks "You coming down with something Donny, you got something I should be worried about" Vicky said with a devilish smile. He wanted to say a witty comment back, he would have loved to say "Yeah, you probably got it last night" but he couldn't, the thought of who he would be saying that too made him feel ill again. "Nah, I'm ok, just really tired is all; it's been a long week" he said, lifting his foot from the floor as if he was walking through a minefield. Vicky followed him; a little guilty that she would make fun of him considering the support she gave him earlier, and the fact that his parents died just a few days ago. She entered his room, her right arm stretched as it caressed the doorframe. She tried her best to look sexy for him; Donovan could tell and looked away quickly. "Hey you, why don't we clean you up; you probably need to" a pause, "Clean yourself" don't yah think?" If Donovan could puke, he would have at that moment. The images that ran through his head as he recalled the previous nights' endeavors was just too much, he had to tell Vicky. "Hey Vicky" he said quietly; swallowing hard as he waited for her response. "Yeah, what's up, you taking me up on that shower or what?" she excitingly responded back. "Vicky, no, no we need to talk about something your dad just told me" "My Dad, what, don't tell me; he saw you too?" She said, laughing hysterically. "Vicky, come on; I'm trying to be serious, please." "Ok, Ok, Jesus; what the fuck is up" "Your dad" he paused, trying to find the right way to say it, trying to find the right way to tell her that he was her brother; the words didn't come so he just blurted it out "he said he's my father." Vicky's face was no longer smiling. Those seductive looks she had been giving him the whole time vanished. "You're my fucking brother and you made me suck your dick; I can't believe you" Vicky screamed. "I didn't know, I swear. I never knew; my parents never told me. Vicky, we can't tell anyone." Just then, just when she could see Donovan was about to beg for forgiveness, she laughed. "Relax big boy; you're definitely not my brother" Vicky said. Donovan just looked at her with confusion; trying to decide if she heard what he said, and if she was even paying attention. "Vick, he told me him and my mom had an affair and that I was his son, his son; that means your brother." "Oh, I know; I understand that James is your father, but he's your father, not mine" Vicky said. "Wait, what?" "Look, James came around after my brother was born and married my mom when he thought he got her knocked up with me. The truth is that he doesn't know that my mom was pregnant before they met; he just assumes I'm his. Why do you think my mom stayed with him; it's something she can hold over his head about you and his affair with your mom." The uneasiness he had in his stomach dissipated after she told him that they weren't related. It was a somber feeling, he started to feel sorry for what James must have been going through and to find out that Gale has played such a game on James makes him slightly angry. He wanted to tell her off about keeping that secret from him; but that was not his place, this family is complicated and he has made too many waves already. "So why the hell did you tell me it was my fault about last night; why did you do that?" Donovan asked frantically. "I thought it would be funny; come on Donny, don't be mad." "Don't be mad, don't be--; how the fuck could I not be mad. That was a really shitty thing to do." "I'm sorry, I was just joking around. I was just teasing you; please don't be mad at me." "That was a fucked up thing to do Vick, why would you do that to me? I haven't exactly had the easiest time lately." Vicky felt like shit because she knew she went too far with that joke, and she knew how fragile Donovan was, yet something in her just wanted to torment him; wanted to make him squeal and feel uncomfortable. Vicky sat down next to Donovan, putting her hand on his thigh, "I'm really sorry Donny, I really am; I'm such a bitch sometimes, I know." Donovan's anger hadn't quite subsided yet; a simple sorry wasn't going to get him to forgive her for what she did to him. He could feel her caressing his leg, and the look in her eyes was of actual remorse and his body began to react to her touch. She put her arm around him and put her head on his shoulder. Donovan remembered the previous night vividly, so this was starting to look very familiar to him. He started to get excited, his anger being overshadowed by the sensations flowing through him by his senses; the smell of her hair and perfume, the warmth of her hand on him and the weight of her head on his shoulder. Vicky could see Donovan's pants begin to tent, the guilt in her for what she just did to Donovan reminded her of the question she put forth to him not just five minutes ago. She leaned in and whispered in Donovan's ear; "come on; let's go take a shower, it will make you feel better, besides I promised I'd teach you a few things. This will be our first lesson." Donovan's wasn't sure what to say, unsure if he should even continue this toxic relationship they seemed to have. Wondering how could she be so sweet one moment, then a complete heartless selfish bitch the next. Hoping she wasn't tormenting him again, he agreed. Vicky was the first to stand up, she looked back at Donovan, waiting for him to respond or at least tell her to fuck off. As Donovan began to stand, a large smile crossed her face, "Come, follow me; we're gonna have some fun." Vicky took Donovan by the hand and marched him towards the bathroom as her fingers interlocked with his. Her walk was sexy, but slow, as if only to keep him lingering in anticipation. Her fingers eventually slipped through his and she rested them on the waist of his pants, still pulling; they entered the bathroom and Vicky shut the door behind them. "Take your shirt off" she ordered him. The tone and inflection in her voice startled him, but he proceeded to follow her instructions. He began to unbutton his shirt when Vicky interrupted him. "No, no, no, do it slowly; you have to learn to take your time" she said, while holding her index finger between her front teeth. He took her advice, he slowly pushed the buttons through the hole on the other side of his shirt, separating it slowly while he peered deep into her eyes. He watched her carefully; examined her face to see what he does that will make her tick; watching to see if her eyes widened or her smile changed.   Donovan's shirt hit the floor, as Vicky put her hand back up to his waistband and said "Now lose these too, but take your time. I'm not going anywhere." He moved his hands slowly down his chest, he flexed his abs slightly as his fingers slowly rippled over them. He looked down to grab his buttons when Vicky scolded him again, "Donny, look at me; take your time, I'm right here." His eyes were more focused now, as he soaked in her beauty and determination to get what she wanted it turned him on. His button popped open, and he tugged on his zipper as her eyes followed it down. If Donovan didn't know any better, it would seem she'd been undressing him herself. His pants fell down to his ankles and his boxers were barely able to contain his cock from popping out as it left a small wet spot to reward her for his patience. With a slight smile, and as her eyes moved down his body, he realized what she wanted him to do; carefully and slowly he pulled his waistline down. He slid it just far enough to show his pubic hair, then pulled and lifted the sides up again, teasing her, before they finally fell to the ground. She didn't waste any time looking him over, motioning for him to spin around and he kindly obliged; he caressed his body with every turn he made, already learning what she wanted him to do. She examined every nook and cranny; his toned arms, the way his abdomen formed a V as it flowed into his crotch, how his strong hands slithered over his neck and broad shoulders. She knew he wanted her, but this wasn't about him anymore, this was about her and he needed to learn that. "Remove my shirt; slowly Donovan, slowly" she said to him while she took a step forward; her breath hitting his face as she spoke. He leaned in to kiss her but she put one hand on his chest, her fingers on his lips, and gently pushed him away. He could feel the coldness of the bathroom door on his back as he hit it, the heat of her hands on his chest and face as she kept him at a distance. Donovan didn't respond, he just did as she asked, slowly lifting her shirt past her shoulders, being careful as it tugged her face and hair before it was free. He could see the white lace bra that covered her breasts. He didn't know what size they were when he looked at them but they were no more than a handful, and as luck would have it, Donovan wasn't much of a breast man anyways. She reached her arms behind her head, slowly lifting her hair as she turned around, presenting her back to him, and eagerly waited for him to undo the clasp that would free her breasts. Donovan took a step closer, his raging hard-on caressed her backside; the tip of his cock felt the warmth of the small of her back as it rested against her. He reached in to kiss the back of her neck as his arms reached up to undo the clasp of her necklace. To his surprise, she pulled away and raised her hand to clench the heart shaped pendant in her fist. She didn't say a word at that moment but Donovan realized that for whatever reason, she wanted to keep that necklace on. He didn't want to press the issue at this time, so his hands slid down her shoulder blades as he leaned in for more kisses. She arched her back as his lips made contact, sighing heavily as her bra clasp sprang open. She let her hair go and the bra slid off her shoulders and hit the ground in front of her. With her arms crossed over her chest, she turned around slowly and stared into his eyes. With a slight smile, she unfolded her arms and placed them behind her back, heaving her breasts for him to examine. Her nipples were hard and Donovan wanted nothing more than to move in to suckle them but he wasn't allowed to get that satisfaction. She looked down at her shorts and back at him; the clues were not all that subtle, so he knew what she wanted him to do next. He raised his right hand up and cradled her cheek in the palm of his hand; his thumb passed over her bottom lip, exposing her white teeth as his left hand slowly pulled down her zipper. Once the final teeth of her zipper separated he lifted his hands back up; knowing that she would not allow him to touch her breasts, so he rested them on her side. The back of his hands moved down the sides of her stomach; with his fingernails pressing lightly, slowly dragging across her skin as he reached the top of her shorts. He put the tips of his fingers inside her waistband, slowly moving them towards the center until they finally met underneath her bellybutton. While his thumbs pulled the button apart, her hand moved to his chest, she could feel his heart beating and stared into his eyes as hers began to close. "Don't pull them off yet, get on your knees first" she ordered him. He put his head forward between her breasts, his lips kissing the crevice as they slowly moved down her stomach. With every moment, his knees got closer to the floor and her shorts followed, sliding slowly down her thighs; the smell of her body danced around his face. His knees hit the cold floor at the same times her shorts did, and he wrapped his arms around her waist while his hands rested on her back. He did his best to move slowly; every part of him wanted to rip off her clothes, the torment of waiting made him ache deep inside. It felt like he was undressing her for hours, a single touch on his body and he though he could explode. "I want you to look into my eyes the whole time Donovan, don't look at anything but me" she said to him as her fingers ran through his hair. He did as she asked, and his eyes locked on hers as his hands slid down her back, he could feel her spine run under his fingers until his palm made contact with her white panties. He gripped them in his hands and his eyes started to close, "Stay here Donny, stay with me" she said as her hand began to caress his face, lifting his chin ever so slightly as his green eyes began to open further. He slowly pulled her panties down, and he could feel them strain as they slid over her ass; the material in his hands stretching with every inch he pulled down. He slid his hands back to her sides and began to pull each side down individually, left, then right, then left, then right. Her panties started to curl at the top as they moved further down, exposing the top of her lips. Donovan could feel some of his pre-cum fall to his thigh as his cock twitched from the smell that escaped from her, the musky smell of her running juices fed him as his hands began to shake. His eyes broke from hers, his nose telling him what he wants is in front of him, but Vicky's hands reminded him of where his eyes needed to be as she gently lifted his face again. The last tug sent her panties loose. He slowly pushed them to the floor as his hands felt her calves, thighs and ankles for the first time. "Oh, you did good Donny; patience is such a virtue" Vicky said as she pulled him up from the floor. Vicky turned around, which exposed her backside to him as she leaned in to turn on the shower; her slight bending motion allowed him to see her lips that protruded from underneath her. She felt the water as her hand laid outstretched underneath it, and looking back at him, noticed his eyes were fixated on her backside. "Come Donny, why don't you climb in the shower and cool off" she said as she turned her body to the side waving him in. Donovan entered the shower but Vicky didn't follow him. She left the shower door open as she took a few steps back, resting her back and ass against the door. "Go ahead Donovan," a slight pause "wash yourself" she quipped, her smiling face alluding to the last time he was in her shower. Donovan looked at her intently; he knew what she was referring to, his his body got excited but his mind became frustrated. "Come on Donny; wash yourself for me, I want to see you do it" she said, as she closed her knees together and arched her back slightly. Reluctantly, he agreed, lathering his body up as he watched her staring at him; the gaze of her eyes moving over his body turned him on even more. He decided he would give in; give her a show. His hands glided down his body as the rushing water beaded off him; the soap on his chest slowly slid down his stomach and pooled around his cock. He looked at her intently; his eyes asked for approval until she nodded her head while her hands explored her own body. He started giving himself a few tugs; the built up pressure, the excitement of slowly undressing her had him on the edge. Vicky could see by his reactions to his own touch that he couldn't hold out much longer, "hands off mister, you don't get to finish just yet; this is about the girl, not the guy" she said as she approached the shower. She placed her right hand on his chest, balancing herself as she entered the shower, slowly sliding the frosted glass door behind her as she stood completely within it. She turned around from him as she pulled her hair off her back and placed it over her left shoulder. The now damp hair covered half of her chest as she tilted her head to the left side. Donovan moved forward until his body rested against hers, with his cock nestled in the crack of her ass as the warmth of her body shot through him like a bullet. He slowly kissed the right side of her neck; his tongue licked along her skin as the cascading water pooled around it. Each time his mouth closed he took a little bit of the water into his mouth, hoping by doing so he would be able to consume her scent. Vicky's eyes closed as the water running down her face gathered and spilled out of her then-open mouth. She reached behind and pushed him gently away to his own disappointment. She lunged her head down and closed her mouth quickly, streams of water spilled violently out of the sides of her lips as she breathed heavily. Vicky turned around and faced him as she put her palms and fingers onto his chest. She pushed him against the wall of the shower, and with the handle between the sprayers pressed against his back, it caused his chest to lunge forward. Her eyes guided his to the side; the area that used to hold all of the shampoo and soap was now empty, and he could see what it was intended for in the first place; an area for someone to sit. She placed her hands on his face as she moved in to give him a kiss, with her lower lip tugging on his as she clenched it between her teeth. He could feel her guiding him down; his body lowered slowly, awaiting the feeling of support underneath him so he could relax his body and sit down. "Donny baby, take your time; explore it" Vicky said as she lifted her left leg, placing it between his own, and resting her foot on the seat underneath him. Donovan grabbed her leg, then slowly moved his hands up her calves as his lips broke its kiss from her knee. She placed her right hand against the shower wall as her left hand rested on top of his head, slowly guiding his face and mouth across her thigh. Donovan laid his right hand on her stomach and his left hand on the outside of her thigh as his lips made contact only an inch above her slit. Vicky moaned softly, as her fingers rummaged through his hair, slowly directing his mouth down, eager to teach him how to please a girl with his tongue. His tongue slid down her pubic area, the stubble of shaved hair stabbed his tongue gently as he approached her slit. The underside of his tongue hit the top of her lips first, and he could feel them parting as he moved his tongue down further. His right hand moved off her thigh as he grabbed her right ass cheek in his hand, squeezing it gently as his tongue continued its journey down. His tongue dipped into her a little more as his nose made contact with the top of her slit. He could taste her juices escaping from her pussy; the slight tart flavor of her was new to him; his taste buds heightened his sense of smell; his nose completely engulfed in her scent as his tongue continued marching down. He reached the bottom of her lips then pressed his tongue flat against them, slowly licking his way up as she removed her hand from the wall to join the other on the back of his head. She pushed his face harder into her crotch, causing Donovan's nose to part her lips as his tongue slowly slipped inside her hole. The flavor he experienced before was now much more pronounced, as half of his tongue laid inside of her. He could feel the sides of his tongue being pushed together; folding in half as her walls embraced its presence. He felt a slight resistance above his tongue; it took more effort to move his tongue in this direction so he only curled it slightly, and Vicky's hands tightened around locks of his hair in approval. He took his other hand and placed it on her left ass cheek, so both of his hands could caress her ass, and he pulled her pelvis toward his face to her moan of appreciation. He moved his tongue in circular motions, while looking up at her for approval; her eyes were closed as she bit her lower lip. He continued circling his tongue around, waiting for her to say or do something to let him know if he was doing it correctly, and still she gave no response. He decided to tense his tongue and lunge it deeper inside of her; he got a response this time as she gasped and groaned panting his name "Donny; Donny yes, yes, oh yes". Donovan Chronicles: Awakening Ch. 02 The sound of her being satisfied excited him; the concentration of pleasing her made him to go slightly limp before, but he could feel his cock becoming harder. She slid her hands down from the top of his head and placed them over his ears, grabbing his face as she moved his head in a circular motion. The feeling of her using him like this was exhilarating to him, his ability to please her filled him with pride; "finally I'm doing something right" he thought to himself. As he started to get more boisterous plunging his tongue deeper inside of her, and as he moved his head in circular motions mimicking what Vicky was forcing him to do, she suddenly backed away; he felt dejected. The move puzzled him, he started questioning himself, "Did she not like what I was doing, did I do something wrong?" his eyes looked up at her with so much sadness. She could see it in his eyes that he was confused; she didn't want to discourage him so she said "Donny baby, we're not done yet, don't be sad." She pulled him up gently; her hands still resting on the side of his head as she pulled him in closer for a deep kiss. The taste of her own juices on his tongue caused her to moan in his mouth, and the feeling of her moaning made him do the same until the only sound that could be heard over the running water was the sound them moaning together. The head of Donovan's cock pressed against her, and she could feel it twitching but fought the urge to touch it; it took all of her willpower to abstain. She wrapped her arms around him, slowly turning him around as they rocked back and forth switching positions while still embraced in a deep kiss. Once completely turned around Vicky pushed him away; her hands rested on his chest as she backed into the wall, then she slithered down until she was seated where he was moments ago. Her eyes looked deep into his as she raised her knees to her chest; Donovan moved closer and placed a hand on each knee, slowly spreading them apart. He began to kneel down as her hands reached for him, sliding up his arms and eventually she wrapped them around his head. She pulled his head closer to her as her fingers nestled themselves in his hair; his knees hit the shower floor as he resumed his place between her thighs. Donovan began to lick her slit again, but this time, he could feel a small piece of hard flesh just inside her; his tongue too deep before to realize it was there. When he moved his tongue over it, she arched her back and extended her legs into the air, moaning lightly as her mouth opened. He pushed his tongue on it harder; he could feel her squirm in his arms as they cradled her legs; "She likes this, oh she likes this" he thought to himself as he continued to move his tongue around her clit. He could feel her hands as they embraced his face, lifting his head up slightly as her eyes peered into his, "Gentle baby, gentle; not so ruff" she said while letting out a slight moan at the end. Donovan put his face back down into her lap, licked her lips and plunged his tongue back deep into her hole. "Put a finger in baby" she cried out to him anxiously. He continued focusing on her clit with his tongue, contemplating how he will find the hole without looking to put his finger inside of it. Donovan took his right hand and slid it under his chin, extending his index finger to follow the tip of it up her slit until it was resting underneath his tongue. He knew his tongue was in the correct place so he figured this would be the easiest way to guide it in, and it was. His finger slipped in easily the first inch, he could feel his tongue above his finger; his nail grazing the underside of his tongue. He pushed forward as he pulled his tongue out, moving his finger while it was completely inside her; she responded by arching her back and putting her hand on his chest. He moved his finger in and out while he continued to lick her lips; her flavor lighter than before, and he could barely distinguish what part of her flesh he was tasting. He brought his middle finger down and played with her lips, his tongue danced at the top of her slit as his finger twisted in and out of her. He pulled his finger out completely, preparing himself to put it back inside her again. "Wait" she said while she looked at him; "Put your finger in your mouth". Donovan did as instructed, the tip of his finger much more flavorful then the rest. "Does it taste good baby?" she asked while she pinched her nipple. Donovan simply nodded his head, his face puckered as he sucked his finger and he enjoyed the taste of her more than he expected. She reached for his hand, grabbed it, and moved it closer to her face as her other hand rose up to meet it. With his fingers in her hands she separated them, pulling his pinky and ring finger with one hand and his thumb with the other. With only his index and middle finger left exposed she put them both into her mouth; rolling her tongue around them as the flavor of her juices were already removed by him. He looked at her intently; remembering that same tongue lapping its way around his cock the night before, the warm, wet, tight grip of her lips as they moved up and down on it. "Put'em both in me slowly baby" she said. The breath escaping her lips as she talked blew across his fingers, and the cooling sensation he felt tingled up his spine. He placed his fingers at her lips, still worried that he might not find the hole without careful guidance but proceeded anyways. He slowly pushed his fingers into her, and he could feel them move past her lips as they directed themselves up slightly; her hole seemed to be able to direct them in. His fingers were being pushed together tightly, like his tongue before; he could feel her slick walls as they ran over his skin and knuckles. "Oh Donny, yes, put them in me baby" she cried out as she held a finger in her mouth. He could feel the resistance of her walls as his fingers probed deeper, the texture of her cavity was more pronounced with two fingers and it was fascinating to him. He began licking her again while his fingers moved slowly in and out of her. His tongue explored every inch of her pussy as she began thrusting her hips. He curled his fingers slightly and hit a small pocket inside of her, his fingers felt a patch of skin with a texture different from what he had felt before. He rubbed it carefully; remembering her advice when he first found her clit and she responded by groaning loudly. Her hips jolted toward him and it sent his chin down onto her slit as his bottom lip crashed into his fingers. Bending his fingers back and forth he could feel her becoming very wet, her hands roved over his head until they found a couple locks of hair she could grab onto. Donovan spread her legs slowly apart, her body fully exposed to him as he continued to lick and finger her pussy. Every lick and movement of his fingers caused her body to twitch; he recognized this response from last night, when she fingered herself in her car. "Oh Donny baby you found it; oh god you found it" she cried out to him. He looked up slightly puzzled, he knew he found something but he couldn't remember anything about it from health class. Vicky saw his confused eyes as he stared at her, working her and she knew he was to inexperienced to know that it was her G-Spot. She wanted to tell him, wanted to let him know what he found but she didn't want to feel as though she was giving him some kind of health lesson. "Oh Donny rub my G-Spot just like that, oh God like that" she moaned out hoping it would satisfy his curiosity. Her legs wrapped around his head as she pushed his face deep into her pussy; he could now start to taste her again as his tongue grazed his fingers and the juices that covered them. Her closing legs put pressure on his head as her fingers pulled his hair and she continued to push his face into her. He could feel her walls contracting, and her breathing getting heavier as her hips started lunging forward grinding into him, making it hard for him to breathe. He brought his other hand up and spread her lips a little, his tongue able to access her clit a little easier this way. The flavor of her returned sharper than ever, her moans that echoed off the shower walls were pleasing to his ears. With his tongue lapping up the juices exiting her, he could feel the mixture of her and his saliva as they ran down his chin. He started rubbing her G-Spot harder, and he could feel the stringy texture of it on his fingertips as he pushed them into it. With her eyes closed and mouth open, she slid her right hand down her chest and continued to walk her fingers down her stomach until they made contact with Donovan's lips. He lifted his mouth slightly and she passed her fingers over his agape mouth gently before she placed them onto her pussy. He watched as she spread her lips for him; she spread them much farther then he thought he could and it exposed everything to him. He could see her hard clit clearly and when she groaned, "Lick it baby, oh god lick my clit good," he did as ordered. Each flick of his tongue on her clit made her hips thrust and it pushed his fingers into her as he carefully played with her G-spot. Her moaning grew louder and quicker as he moved faster, he moaned on her in response and he could see her fingers getting restless. He licked them slowly; his tongue made large circular motions over her clit and her fingers and all she could do is groan out a "Fuck yeah". Her legs kicked out as her body began to shake, and he could feel his fingers being squeezed by her contracting walls, his tongue pulled from her clit as she pulled his head back by his hair forcefully. Vicky's hips thrust violently; her moans ushered away the sounds of her heavy breathing until she shouted out "Fuck yeah, oh my god yeah," as her legs shook on his shoulders. Whimpering and panting, he could feel her breath as it hit the underside of his face, he could see her breasts heaving as she orgasmed; the sight of it filled him with satisfaction. She pulled his head up, forcing him to stand slightly as she reined him in towards her; their lips touched gently before she finally pulled him in tightly. Her tongue explored his mouth as he never felt before, he could feel her breathing on to, and into him, as their lips parted. Her legs were still rested on his shoulders and he could feel the tip of his dick against her pussy lips in this position. His hands braced on the wall behind her, as his curled body did what it could to stay balanced. She gently pushed him away as she began to stand up, their lips still locked in a deep and powerful kiss, they rotated back around and she pushed him into the seat. Donovan's heart began to race again, "Is it my turn" he thought to himself. Vicky opened the shower door and began to exit, Donovan went to reach for her but their wet bodies and hands made her escape easy. He stood up from the seat to reach for the shower door, pulling himself into the opening with his hands resting on it and the wall in front of him. Vicky grabbed a towel off the sink and looked back at Donovan, still standing in the shower with the door open; his cock hard as a rock. Vicky looked back at him as she pondered for a moment leaving him in his current position; the thought of keeping him waiting enticed her. "Come here big boy" she said with her hand outstretched towards him "Let me take care of you; you earned it in there". Donovan stepped out the shower without a single bit of hesitation; his aching cock was waiting for release; waiting for her to finally get him off. She reached for him and pulled him close, wrapping her right arm around his head as they embraced in a deep kiss. Her left hand reached down between them and wrapped itself around his sensitive cock, the slight touch of her hand making him groan loudly. She slid the palm of her hand down his shaft, smearing the pre-cum oozing from his tip, until she clasped him again. Her tongue swirled in his mouth as her hand moved slowly up and down on his cock; Donovan's breathing became quicker, and harder, so he removed his lips from her mouth and turned his head to the side. "Stay with me, stay right here" she said as she pulled him back into another deep kiss. His legs started to feel weak, and he could feel his balls tighten as her hand tugged him softly. "Do it for me, do it for me baby" she said, pulling him harder, waiting for him to cum. Donovan could only muster a deep groan at first, his hips thrust vigorously as Vicky's head rested on his chest watching a stream of cum shoot from his dick. She could feel the force of it blasting out of him in her hand as his dick contracted within her clasp, the heat from his seed warmed them both. She continued to watch as every spurt landed on different parts of their tightly held bodies, she could feel some running down her stomach as it pooled in her belly button. Donovan could only say a few words, as keeping his body tense suffocated him, "Oh fuck, Vicky; Oh yeah" escaped his lips before his head collapsed on her shoulder. "Oh baby, you go off like a rocket when you cum" she said, her lips grazing his chest as she spoke. "Last night you had yours, today I got mine, and if you're lucky, tomorrow we could do a repeat performance, or," she paused for a brief moment, "maybe we'll just fuck each other's brains out." Donovan was still in orgasmic bliss, his hands held her body against his, the anticipation of cumming left his body feeling tired. "Damn boy, you did a great fucking job in there," she said while wrapping a towel around herself, only just cleaning up the mess he made on her. Vicky went in to kiss him again, as their lips part she said "This lesson is over, you're a quick learner; I was hoping we would need to practice this more". Donovan could not believe what just happened, he looked down and noticed he made more of a mess on himself then he did her; but at that moment, he didn't care. She turned around and left the bathroom shutting the door behind her, Donovan still in shock remained standing there, staring at the exit she just left through, wanting her to come back. Donovan looked for a towel to clean and dry himself off with, but none are around. He rummaged through the drawers, under the sink, even under his clothes looking for something, anything. He decided to grab some toilet paper and slowly and carefully used it to clean off the mess he made on himself, taking extra care to keep the toilet paper from deteriorating as it started to ball up. He checked the floor and the walls around him as well as the ceiling; having someone stumble upon his seed by accident is not something he wanted to try and explain. End Ch2 I hope you enjoyed reading this story, and I look forward to hearing all of your comments or criticisms no matter how good or bad they might be. Please look for the upcoming chapters, as they will answer more questions that arise throughout this story.