Brandon’s Secret Lover
Brandon’s shoulders drooped as he sighed. Around him the taunts of his classmates faded into the background as he thought about Her.
He barely heard them now – “Loser! Loser! Loo-zerr!” they chanted, whilst holding their hands up to their foreheads, fists clenched with forefinger pointing straight up, opposing digit perpendicular to it, forming the shape of an ‘L’.
As the schoolbus rattled away from the stop, Brandon pulled on his headphones and hit ‘play’ on his iPod. The sound of Pearl Jam’s ‘Jeremy’ filled his ears.
Despite the fact that it had been recorded in 1991, before he had even been born, it was his favourite song. He identified with the character in the song, a loner, picked on and bullied by his peers.
The music drowned out the sounds of the braying mob around him on the bus, and once again he thought of Her. His true love. Flawless, perfect, beautiful…and unobtainable.
Brandon knew that he was just some kid from a sink estate, going to a nowheresville comp school, and she was from a posh family, rich, educated, well spoken, sophisticated, everything he was not, but still he dreamed of her, his one true love.
He dreamed of her night and day.
Maybe dreams could come true, maybe one day she would be his. With her by his side he could ignore the jibes directed at him, if she needed him his life would be complete.
He sighed again. He could picture her, her athletic body tight, taut and toned. In his mind he could see her move, lithe and graceful, her tight clothes showing off her feminine curves.
Almost noiselessly Brandon whispered “I love you, baby.”
When he arrived home, Brandon let himself in with his key as quietly as he could, and tip-toed across the hall towards the stairs to his room.
“Hello love!” His mother called out from the kitchen. Brandon froze in his tracks – how had she heard him?
He had intended to sneak upstairs without her knowing he was back in the house.
His mother’s head appeared around the door from the kitchen. She pursed her lips then, barely suppressing a grin she said with mock severity “And just where do you think you’re off to, young man?”
“Er…to my room?” Brandon answered hopefully, although he knew what was coming next.
A series of tut-tut-tuts issued from the woman’s mouth, followed by “You know the rules; homework first, Brand.”
“Yes, mum.” Brandon sighed dejectedly. Dragging his feet he shouldered his school bag and sloped off across the hall into the study.
Later, his homework completed, he sat at the dinner table quietly eating his evening meal. Despite his parents’ attempts to engage him in conversation, Brandon refrained from talking, instead his mind filled with other thoughts.
His demeanour had become more and more withdrawn in recent months, despite his parents’ best attempts he had become, much to their chagrin, distant and introspective, almost unsociable, spending most of his time in a world of his own imagination.
“Trouble is, he’s dreaming his life away, he’ll never make anything of himself.” his father had said, with a sigh, a scowl and a roll of his eyes.
As soon as he had finished his meal, Brandon left the table and hurried upstairs to his bedroom.
As always, he hit the switches and buttons on his games console, and the screen glowed into life. While he waited for it to log-in online he donned the headset and adjusted it so that the earphones fitted comfortably, and the built-in microphone was in front of his mouth.
He saw that his clan already had a game in progress, and clicked to join in. Some of the usual guys were there – Bulldog96, Megaman11, BaptizioX23, d4g5, and a few others. “Hi guys!” Brandon shouted into the mic as he joined the fray.
‘Call Of Duty’ was the game, and as he hid behind his cloak of anonymity in that virtual world Brandon could at last feel superior. With his prowess at the game he could finally be ‘one of the guys’ instead of the outcast he felt like in real life.
In the game he followed his usual MO and selected the sniper rifle, then sought a vantage point in one of the buildings. Finding a window that overlooked the town square in which a pitched battle was being fought he began to pick off enemy targets from his concealed location, and direct his comrades to better fighting positions by shouting commands to them.
All went well with the firefight until some sort of missile strike took him out, presumably an enemy had spotted his hideaway. “Gee Whiz!” he exclaimed.
The voice of Bulldog96 crackled over the headset “Gee whiz? Who the fuck says ‘gee whiz’ nowadays? What do you think it is, nineteen fifty-eight or something?” he chuckled.
“Go fuck yourself!” Brandon retorted to his friend, laughing. The two boys chortled in their shared comradeship.
As he respawned in the game Brandon could feel the surge of adrenalin through his body in the real world. He loved the rush that he felt when gaming, both on-line and in single player games, the feelings of machismo, power and success, all things which seemed to elude him in real life.
Completely immersed in that imaginary war-like world, hours passed as he blasted away at the opposing combatants.
When Brandon’s mother entered his bedroom at a little after 11pm, he hastily disconnected the microphone briefly, so that his comrades wouldn’t hear her as she quietly informed him that she had brought him a cup of tea and a biscuit, and that he ought to only play for another twenty minutes before switching off for the night as he had school tomorrow.
Brandon muttered a “Yes, Mum. Twenty minutes. Promise.” whilst he continued to fire away at his on-screen enemies.
His mother shook her head, smiled kindly then kissed him on the top of his head and departed the room.
Brandon played for another hour before finally turning off the console.
As he undressed and slipped into bed his thoughts once more returned to Her. He reached down to where he had discarded his trousers on the floor alongside his bed, and removed his mobile phone from the pocket.
A touch of a button brought the screen to life, and he surreptitiously thumbed his way through the phone’s photo gallery until he found his favourite picture of Her.
There she was, the image of her that he always imagined her in, her short shorts displaying her slender legs and trim waist, her tight vest top accentuating her full breasts.
“I love you, baby!” Brandon said towards the screen, as he began to fantasize about her.
He felt his penis rise, straining against the cotton of his pyjama bottoms, so he hooked his thumbs into the elasticated waistband and shuffled them down to his kness, allowing his proud erection to pop free.
He relished the feel of the sheet as it grazed the end of his throbbing member, and he grasped it firmly with his right hand, wrapping his fist around it.
He began to pump away at it, sliding his fist up and down the shaft whilst he stared at the tiny pixellated image on the screen of his phone.
(In his mind’s eye he was with Her – he imagined himself tearing down those tiny shorts, exposing her glistening slit beneath.)
It would of course be shaved, smooth, just like the girl he had seen in an on-line video a few nights earlier – Brandon knew only too well how to by-pass the parental controls on the computer in the study downstairs.
(In his fantasy he was strong, musclar, lithe and tanned. He pulled at her vest, tugging it up over her head as she, powerless to resist his charms, held her arms up straight to facillitate the removal of the garment.
Her breasts swung free, glorious, perfect. Brandon imagined holding her down, her playful struggles to break free as naught against his manly arms.
He bent forward and took her breast into his mouth, clamping his lips tight over her nipple, and sucking hard on it, whilst she moaned with pleasure. He raised his head and kissed her on the lips, her warm red lips had the taste of wine, sweet and soft upon his own.
His strong hands now clutched at her ankles, lifting her legs high in the air, he held her there, her knees against her chest, her booted feet up by his shoulders. She pulled at her ponytail, letting her long brown hair swing free, framing her beautiful face.)
Brandon’s hand now stroked his penis faster, his breath shortening.
(He looked down, past his taut six-pack stomach at Her body below him, her legs up, spread, inviting. He saw the moisture shining around her pussy, indicating that she was wet, her vagina eager for his long, hard cock.
He thrust it down into her upturned hole, ramming himself deep into her as she gasped with suprise at the length of it drilling into her, his manliness filling her up. He pounded away at her, each thrust bringing a breathless gasp of delight from the beautiful woman trapped beneath him.)
Brandon’s whole body stiffened, his hand going ever faster as his excitment neared its climax. He reached out with his free hand to his bedside table and grabbed a tissue from the box there.
(She screamed out her orgasm as he powerfully fucked her, her body writhing as he satisfied her totally, then he quickly withdrew from her, and proclaiming “I love you, baby!” he ejaculated his load across the flawless skin of her lovely body, his cum splattering across her stomach, breasts, neck and face.)
Brandon stifled a moan as he came, hastily holding the tissue to his cock in order to catch the spunk as it jetted out, the spurts blobbing into the absorbent paper.
As quietly as he could, he tip-toed across the hall to the bathroom, where he dropped the tissue into the toilet and pulled the flush. Washing his hands, he then returned to bed, curling up under the covers to dream about Her.
With a smile on his face, Brandon drifted off to sleep.
(In his dreams, Brandon lay alongside her, her warm skin soft against his manly body. He extended a strong arm protectively around her.
Tomorrow they would head out into the world to adventure together, but for now they would sleep peacefully after their torrid love-making.)
The next day was a Friday, and time passed slower than ever at school, the minutes seemed to stretch into hours, the hours felt like days. Brandon felt like he might die of boredom at anytime, waiting for the weekend.
His usual anticipation of the two days off school heightened by the knowlege that tomorrow he would actually see Her.
He spent Friday night online as usual, battling enemy armies alongside his cyber pals, but his normal enthusiasm was diminished a little, at the back of his mind he thought about Her constantly, the butterflies in his tummy tingling and turning with the thought of seeing her the very next day.
Saturday dawned, dry and bright, and Brandon quickly ate breakfast with his family, wolfing down his toast and cereal, then scuttled out of the house, setting off into town with great haste.
When he reached the shopping precinct on the High Street he made straight for ‘Gamerz’ the games shop at the heart of the centre.
He pushed his way in through the double doors and walked along the central aisle of the shop towards the counter.
As he passed them several of the patrons there nodded in acknowledgement of him.
“Hey, Brand. You here to get the new one?” said one youth.
“Hey Marty!” Brandon replied “Yeah, you bet! Can’t wait!”
“See you, dude.”
“Yeah, whenever.”
Brandon was a regular visitor to the shop and, in common with many of the other gamer kids, often spent almost entire Saturday afternoons browsing the racks of games, and chatting to fellow gamers, many of whom, like him, spent hours in the shop.
However, today would be an exception, Brandon had been saving his pocket money up for weeks, and was going to buy a new game.
Then, later, he knew he would have the opportunity to see Her. This was going to be just the best day ever.
Brandon was such a frequent customer that even the staff knew him on first-name terms, and the manager greeted him with a smile. “Hello Brandon. Guess this is what you want?” he grinned, waving a slim plastic case in the air. “Since you pre-ordered it, you get a free poster too.” he winked “Although I can’t think why you’d want one of those.”
“Hi Dave!” Brandon responded “Cool!”
He handed over his money, and dashed from the shop, briskly setting off towards home.
When he arrived he sped upstairs, and immediately powered up the games console.
Inserting the new game into the machine, and almost breathless with excitement he picked up the controller.
There, on the screen a familiar logo appeared:
TOMB RAIDER 9
Under the words, letters coalesced on the dark screen, forming a title:
A SURVIVOR IS BORN
And then, there she was, on the screen. Her brown hair tousled, her beautiful face muddied and bloodied, her athletic body tight, taut and toned.
The strap of the bow and it’s quiver of arrows on her back circled her body, parting her breasts, accentuating their shape as her tight blue vest followed their feminine curves.
As the image of Lara Croft filled the screen, Brandon whispered….
“I love you, baby.”