Welcome to Boxer & Rice

He comes for me. He always comes for me, when I step out of a party, leave a crowd, am alone. He doesn't bother with hello or any little social niceties. Not with me. He just looks around, makes sure no one can see. And touches me, right there between my legs. Cups and rubs and says things.

Sometimes it's head. He'll grab me by the hair and force me to my knees. Or it's hand jobs. Usually it's penetration – if circumstances allow. He is very good at finding those circumstances.

People would be shocked. Gohan seems like such a nice guy. No, a good guy. And he can be that guy, for them. He's another person for me. Not nice. Not good.

It started a long time ago, when he picked me up from high school, took me to an empty park and basically gave me a crash course in sex. I wasn't expecting it. He was still Goten's nerdy big brother, this goofy guy everyone could depend on to do the right thing. I was just as shocked as the next person would have been when he started talking about sex and masturbation and how he wanted to see how I "blew off steam." It went downhill from there because, well, I was turned on. Not just because I was a horny teenager but because this was a whole other side of Gohan. A seductive side, sure. But also darker. Not angry, dark. He never gets mad when he's like this. He's happy. Genuinely happy. And when he first showed me that darkness, that was all it took to hook me.

He didn't just get to watch me jerk off. He got to do everything he wanted because of that. Everything.

I didn't believe him when he told me it wouldn't happen again. And I was right. He found a way. He'd be there when I skipped school. When I went to visit Goten. At my mother's get togethers. Anytime I saw him the same thing would happen. He'd touch me between my legs. Cup me and rub, rub, rub while he got in real close and whispered crazy shit in my ear. Mostly what he was going to do, and sometimes what he imagined I did when I was alone. He calls me his Sexy Boy, or sometimes Dirty Boy. Even to this day, even though I'm thirty years old and hardly a boy, anymore.

I understand why he does this. Gohan won't be this way with Videl. He won't gag her with his underwear, drag her to her hands and knees and fuck her up the ass. She is his wife. The mother of his child. He puts her on a pedestal, just like he did for Chichi. When I'm with him there are no pedestals, no flowery words or promises. There's just sex. Brutal sex. It's an outlet and I understand that. I understand him. I just don't understand myself. Why do I need him to treat me this way?

I know I like the sex. A lot. I like the feeling of losing control, too. When he's with me I make no decisions. He's in control. My usual rebellious nature goes out the window and I do everything he wants, enthusiastically. If he wants to use his necktie and tie my hands behind my back, I'm into it. If he wants to bite hard enough to make me bleed, I beg him to keep going. If he wants to make me lick his come off the floor I will find every drop and swallow. It is so important to me, to make him happy. I love being his Dirty Boy.

"You make me do these things." He likes to blame me, sometimes. "You never say no when you should." He likes to say this stuff while I'm giving him head. "You shouldn't be doing this." He'll grab my hair and begin thrusting. It's really hard not to gag, and I end up gagging no matter how hard I try not to. But I never push away. I always let him force it down my throat, even when I'm gagging. "Look at you... even now you won't... Sweet, dirty boy..."

I swallow, whether he pulls out and comes in my face or not. I just scoop it up and slurp it down. It gets him hard again. And that means more. More Gohan. I'll do whatever I can to make him stay with me, like this, for as long as I can.

Why? I'm a lucky guy. Probably the luckiest, ever. And I'm not a bad person. Not the best person – I skip out of work a little too much and should probably quit focusing on winning that rigged World Martial Arts bullshit. I could have anyone I wanted. Maybe even get married. Be normal and everything. But that won't make me happy, not like this does. I think of what we do and I still get goose bumps, even though we've been keeping this dirty little secret for more than ten years. I love to be this way for him. To be this nasty, perverted person. And I don't know why this makes me happier than anything else.

The only thing I do know, is why he comes to me. There is something dark inside of him. And he needs me to help him with it. Express it in a safe way, and even protect the people he's supposed to love. And I want him to, as much as he possibly can.