LOGINI was panting, my heart beating in my throat, feeling the weight of my own existence crashing down on me. The silence that followed inside the car was deafening.
I had just experienced the most intense moment of my adult life with the ghost of my greatest crime, and he was still there, in the passenger seat, wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. He had no idea he had just brought me back to life and condemned me to hell at the same time. I tried to catch my breath, my chest rising and falling while the oxygen seemed insufficient for what I had just lived through. Kyle pulled away and looked at me with that empty expression of someone who had simply completed a routine task. “I told you I was good.” He murmured, a trace of satisfaction for his work in his voice. “It’s ten dollars.” That hit me like a bucket of ice water. The reality sank in with unbearable weight. I would have given every cent in my bank account, every share of Vance Corp for that moment, but for him, my sensory rebirth cost only ten dollars. Unfortunately, I also knew exactly where that money would go,the feverish glint in his eyes left no doubt. I reached into my wallet and pulled out the first bill I saw: fifty dollars. When he saw the amount, Kyle smiled genuinely for the first time. It wasn’t a smile for me,it was the smile of someone who had just secured his next fix. “Thanks.” He said simply, before opening the door and stepping out, disappearing into the night. I remained there, paralyzed. The leather seat was still warm, his scent still lingered in the car. My mind was a chaos of pleasure, guilt, and the raw shock of having found Kyle in that state. I pulled myself together as best I could, zipped up with trembling hands, and started the engine. But I couldn’t just drive away. Keeping a safe distance, I followed Kyle. I watched as he stopped a few meters ahead and met a guy standing on a dark corner. The exchange was quick: my money for his poison. He kept walking with hurried, almost anxious steps until he entered an old building with peeling facade and broken windows. It must have been where he lived or where he hid from the world. I stared at that gloomy facade, gripping the steering wheel tightly. For a second, I had the impulse to get out, climb those filthy stairs, and tell him everything. To say who I was, beg for a forgiveness I didn’t deserve, explain that I had never forgotten him. But fear won. The cowardice that was born in that abandoned building thirteen years ago was still alive inside me. I gave up. I got home still numb. The silence of my penthouse had never felt so deafening. I could still feel the trace of that unforgettable orgasm from the car,a sensation that seemed to have awakened nerves I thought were dead. I was hard again, a painful and urgent erection. I went into the bathroom, let the hot water fall over my shoulders, and tried to satisfy myself. I closed my eyes, tried to focus on what I had felt in the car, but it didn’t work. No matter how hard I tried, no matter how much I used the memory of his touch, my orgasm didn’t even reach ten percent of what I had experienced earlier. The frustration came like a wave, bitter and violent. I punched the marble wall, feeling the water wash away my almost-tears of rage. Kyle wouldn’t leave my head. He had become my addiction, my cure, and my greatest punishment,all in a single night. And the worst part was knowing that to get that feeling back, I would have to dive into the same hell he was living in. He was broken,it was obvious,and I was even more so. I needed to find a way to redeem myself, or at least a way to have him again, even if it was built on the same lies as tonight. I didn’t want to repeat the same mistakes from the past, but I had no idea how to fix this after so many years. Seeing him like that and knowing that part of it was my fault would certainly not let me sleep in peace from now on.The conversation was calm. She told me the club gossip, said the roses were winning the neighborhood contest, and commented on the plans for the next charity season. I listened, trying to be a present son, laughing at the right moments and talking about my trip, describing the architecture of Dubai and the exaggerated luxury of the desert dinners. But while I spoke of gold and skyscrapers, my mind kept returning to a black and gold card in a gallery in downtown New York, wondering if Kyle had already found the courage to call.“You’re distant again, Aidan."She said softly, interrupting my thoughts as she poured more coffee.“Sorry, Mom. I was just thinking about a detail for a meeting tomorrow.”“Work will always be your refuge, just like your father.”She sighed, but without bitterness.“But don’t let it be your only company. Life is too short to spend all your time inside an office, even if the office is yours.”I looked at the clock. The moment of peace was ending. The real world
Two weeks later, after closing the most profitable deals of the year and attending parties that should have been memorable, the Vance Corp private jet touched down on the runway at Teterboro Airport. New York welcomed me with its gray sky and the incessant noise I knew so well. I was back. I was richer, and perhaps my public image was even more solid after the successful international trip. But as I descended the airplane steps, the first thing I felt was the heavy weight of the city air. I was back in the same territory as him. Two weeks of parties, yachts, and beautiful women on the other side of the world had changed absolutely nothing. The car glided silently over the gravel driveway of my mother’s property a mansion that, despite all its imposing grandeur, always carried an air of serenity I couldn’t find anywhere else in New York. When I turned off the engine, the silence of the wealthy suburb hit me, a stark contrast to the urban chaos I had just left behind. I walked to
The meeting with the Green-Tech board was supposed to be the highlight of my week, but I was just a body present, occupying a leather chair. While the directors discussed profit projections and sustainability margins, my mind was trapped on that sofa in the mountain house. Kyle’s touch, the sensory “torture” he imposed on me, and the way my body responded with an intensity I didn’t even know existed… all of it felt more real than the graphs projected on the wall. I could still feel the ghost of his hands on me, a painful contrast to the coldness of that meeting room. The days that followed were a desperate attempt to bury those memories under piles of work. However, the silence of my penthouse in Manhattan only amplified his absence. I kept my promise; I stayed away. But the physical distance only seemed to shorten the obsessive distance in my mind. I boarded a flight to the United Arab Emirates for a business trip that ended up extending for nearly two weeks. Peter, my lawyer an
He picked up his phone and spent the entire trip sliding his fingers across the screen, immersed in a digital world I had no access to. I, on the other hand, could barely keep my eyes on the road. I glanced at him every five minutes. I studied the profile of his face, the line of his jaw that seemed tenser today, and the way he bit his lower lip when he read something that bothered him. My body still ached for him, a silent, humiliating demand that made me grip the steering wheel with excessive force. After almost an hour of absolute silence, I tried to start a conversation. I needed to know. “So, Kyle? What do you plan to do when we get there? If you need a better place than that apartment, or if you want me to talk to the gallery again.” “Pretty boy.” He cut me off, his voice cold and sharp as ice. “I’d prefer you call me Aidan.” He took a deep breath and continued. “Okay, Aidan then.” He barely looked up from his phone as he said it. “We’re not friends. Nothing tha
The morning in the mountains dawned wrapped in a dense fog that covered the treetops and blurred the contours of the horizon. Yet the freezing cold outside was the exact opposite of the fire that seemed to consume my body. I woke up long before the alarm, breathing shallowly. The first thing I felt, even before fully opening my eyes, was the heavy, hot, and insistent pulse of pent-up desire. The overwhelming horniness hadn’t disappeared with sleep. On the contrary, it seemed to have fed voraciously on what had happened on the sofa the night before and on my frustrated, solitary attempt at relief under the cold shower water. It was a physical and violent hunger, a visceral need that was already bordering on actual pain. I looked at my own hands resting on the rumpled sheets and gave up before even trying anything. Deep down, I knew it would be useless. Without his firm touch, without that sharp look of disdain mixed with absolute dominance, I was just a pathetic man trying to l
I came back to myself with my breathing ragged and my mind in shreds, trying to process the intensity of what had just happened. Kyle, still kneeling between my legs, watched me with a glint of amusement in his eyes. He let out a low chuckle, almost a provocation. “I always thought you had premature ejaculation because you came so fast every time.” he said, his voice now tinged with lighter irony. “But now it all makes sense. Thirteen years of drought… that’s a lot of built-up pressure, handsome.” I thought he would pull away, but Kyle didn’t let go. On the contrary, he kept his grip and continued the movement. The pleasure that seconds ago had been sublime instantly turned into acute sensitivity, bordering on discomfort. My back arched and I tried to pull away, my hands reaching for his shoulders to push him off. “Kyle, stop… it’s sensitive.” I murmured, my voice failing. “I’m going to try something.” he interrupted, ignoring my protest. He bit his own lip, holding back a sm
I just nodded, lowering my head slightly. The weight of the truth was an anchor. “I know, Kyle. I know it’s our fault.” My passive acceptance seemed to make him even more furious. He came at me, stopping just inches from my face, his hands shaking with pure hatred. “Cut that shit out! Stop pre
“I don’t want that.” He murmured, his voice hoarse. “I don’t want to be your charity project. You’re only doing this to redeem yourself, so you can sleep at night without needing a luxury therapist.” “Nothing in the world would be enough for me to redeem myself with you.” I replied with a h
I felt the blood thumping in my temples, my vision blurring as I watched the top of his head, the straight black hair between my fingers. The pleasure came like a shockwave, devastating and absolute, tearing me from the ground. When the climax hit me, it was so violent that I lost control over wh
"It's just up there." He murmured, pointing toward the peeling facade of the building I already recognized from a distance. I said nothing. I just continued alongside him, feeling the weight of the silence and the electricity of our proximity, ready to enter the heart of the hell I had helped c







