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You wake up from peace, sleep you haven't had in weeks. Your crotch is wet. I groan, eyes shrink wrapped with sleep, brows knitted together in confusion. I look between my legs, a suspiciously Tyler Durden-shaped figure is under my blanket. The dirty, disgusting, yellow mattress creaks as I move, the springs wanting to give out any time I breathe. Tyler? I ask.
My core tenses before my mind wakes up enough to process it. I am Jack’s wet cock. I lift the sheets, met with Tyler’s lidded eyes, watching me with a desperation that says he needs this more than me.
Something to know about Tyler Durden is he’s smoked all his life, but a week ago, he quit. In exchange, I quit my job, now living off threats I gave my boss. And I used to be such a nice guy.
When we would go places where smoking wasn't allowed—airports, the mall to deliver rich women soap, the hospital after one of us took a nasty “spill down the stairs”—he’d sport a toothpick to satiate himself until we got back home. His oral fixation has always been apparent, but now more than ever does he need something keeping his mouth occupied. Toothpick, his fingernails, or, well, my dick, he needs something keeping his tongue busy.
“Want me to stop?” A genuine question. Tyler knows me better than I know myself, but now is not one of those times. I’m unsure because Tyler is unsure. I pull his hair, the messy, unwashed, locks feel slick in my hand from yesterday’s product he lathered all over it. He must have crawled out of bed craving a cigarette, and I was the next best thing.
Christ… My word is a breath more than a vibration. He sits up, tan skin sporting a red hue to it from being beneath the thin fabric. He runs cold the way a pillow does—lay on him long enough, and he goes lukewarm, and you have to turn him over. He’s shirtless, only wearing his gray sweatpants, of which he stole from me to adopt as his own, leaving an outline of his dick. No, he doesn't wear underwear. Yes, I’m thankful for that.
Give me a second to wake up, I tell him. He peppers my neck in small pecks, nothing like I’m used to. Tyler Durden isn't sweet, he’s rough, loud, and disrespectful. Which means either his heart grew three sizes, or he is desperate enough to win me over. I’m putty in his hands to play with when he’s bored.
“When out in the wilderness, you’re supposed to suck on a pebble. This helps build saliva, letting you last longer without water.” Tyler is full of useful information.
Very interesting, Tyler, I say. Why didn’t you try that?
“Your dick tastes better,” he responds.
Making his way up, he slips his tongue inside my mouth, and I taste myself. I’m uncoordinated, sluggishly lazy. I groan at the thought that he’s wanted me all night.
Okay, I say.
Traveling down my torso, he kisses along the scars from fight club. Wounds that never healed correctly, disfigurement where there once was perfection. Fuck perfection.
I groan when Tyler’s mouth engulfs me again, leaning back against the pillow under my head. Shit, it feels amazing. Breakfast in bed is mediocre compared to this.
The feeling of a tongue swirling around your cock’s head makes you believe in God again. God is between my legs, filling the room with sounds of choking and wetness. God is massaging my asshole with His middle finger, His thumb pressing into one of my testicles. I’m moaning God’s name before I spill down His throat.
I’m covered in sweat. I shudder and twitch before I’ve gone limp. Tyler’s scalp is tender as I massage it, I must have tugged harder than intended. Sorry, I apologize.
“Jesus, never apologize for that,” Tyler kisses the skin where my hips conjoin with my torso, and then his face is leveled with my own. The blush that swarms my face is shared with him, both of us hot, red, and sweaty. Thank you, I tell him, and he scoffs at me. The yellow mattress creaks beneath us as he rolls over, forcing me back into reality.
I watch him light a cigarette. Hey, hey, wait a minute. I sit up on my elbows, despite how weak my limbs are. You quit, I say.
“After sex barely counts.” Tyler gestures to the box, “Why keep it at eye level? You’re taunting me.”
I quit my job, I say. I attempt to grab it, but he’s got the height advantage currently.
“You wanted to. I didn’t want to.” He accentuates every word with a point of the stick, nearly burning me in the process. I collapse back onto the bed with a pout, which he finds amusing enough to laugh at. This angle allows me to see a wet spot at the front of his sweats, obvious and physically in my face, not that he ever wants to hide it.
Do you want me to reciprocate? I ask.
“You always sound so square,” As Tyler speaks, his cigarette bobs wildly up and down. Blowing smoke in my face, he rubs my head, petting me like a dog. I watch his every move, waiting for a command. I’d do anything for you, Tyler. “If you insist.”
He pulls his sweats down to reveal the hard cock hidden indiscreetly, letting it hang heavy near my mouth. I don’t hesitate wrapping my lips around the tip, and I don’t miss the way his breath hitches, hiding behind a puff of smoke. I melt into the role, closing my eyes and moaning around the dick shoved inside me. Tyler is my God, this is my communion.
“Shit,” Tyler slips and lets out a grunt. I wrap my hands around his thighs, twisting my head until he hits my uvula. I gag, persevering as tears gather in my eyes. Whatever I can’t take now, my hand takes care of the rest. Tyler, thank you for saving me from the world created for me. I repay my debts by swallowing, tongue tracing a vein underneath his cock. When our eyes meet, his core tenses with a whimper. I watch him lean his head back with a moan of my name, my eyes clouded in a glow of tears.
Tyler has taken my head in his hands, using my hair as a leash. Up and down my head goes, mouth releasing and clenching around Tyler’s cock. I close my eyes with shock as he shoots down my throat, a gunshot putting a stop to all train of thought. I never tasted cum before I met Tyler Durden, now it’s become an integral part of my diet.
Did I do good?
“Yeah,” Tyler breathes in heavy huffs, his cigarette laying on his lip, stuck there by his saliva. I grab it, taking a long inhale. These are mine, I say.