Thread: Questionable Interests (Translucentfeathers & Goddess)

Joe had already begun packing, stuffing a suitcase with much needed items like underwear and his less preppy clothes along with items he never wanted his parents to find, like dildos, male erotica books and a couple of books about BDSM and accounts of well-known cases of serial killers. He'd gotten different covers for them, putting slipcovers of things from around the house like The Fallacies of Evolution and his psychology textbooks, but if there was a chance of him moving out, he didn't want to risk his relationship with his parents. The bing of his cell phone interrupted his packing, making him smile at the email request to meet him. Thank you for the opportunity, I will meet you in two hours and look forward to doing business with you. To his simple reply he added his phone number. If he really wanted to move out, he would tell his parents about it after he moved out of the house, since he had no intention of letting them know where he lived and he was sure they would keep intruding in his life if they did. He'd brought it up with them before, mentioning things like the full college experience and convenience, and they didn't seem to suspect a thing yet. Maybe this could be the beginning of him coming out to his parents, even, when he didn't have to fear life on the streets or being killed in his sleep. After all, he'd gotten his morbid imagination from somewhere and if they were anywhere near as creative as he was, and as against homosexuality as they said to be, he would have to make either his homicidal or suicidal thoughts a reality. Thinking about it, it'd been a few weeks since his last thoughts of suicide, likely thanks to all the diversity and self acceptance he'd found in college. The venting with glassmask363 had likely helped a lot, and now that his bags were done, he wanted to get one last message in before going into the shower and hoping he'd finally gotten a chance to move out. If this went anything like he was hoping to, he might finally feel able to be himself and feel he had some semblance of control. And his unknown friend on the other side of the screen was becoming more and more one of his reasons to smile. You know perfect murders like that never really work, the amount of messages between us would give you away. Don't worry, though, I'll invite you to my ritualistic killings instead to make up for it! Man, you got to take class with him last semester? I'm totally jealous! I had that boring class with McGuire, she managed to even make the ridiculous accolades of Sigmund Freud boring, if you can believe that. With Howard, I might finally get good information on psychopathy and sociopathy. Damn, sounds like you had a fun winter break! Send me a link sometime! Check out The Circle on Netflix. Its the best sociopolitical criticism I've seen in a while and the ending is ridiculously fucked up, in a good way. Its good for a good night of fun. And hey, if you want to mangle your hand, call me over! I'll do it for you and treat you afterwards. I'll be out for a while, so see you when I see you? With his message sent, he packed his bookbag and his suitcase in his junky old Niisan, which was likely as old as he was, and went to take a quick bath. The warm water helped him relax, focus into the man he wanted to pretend he was, if only for now, just a tiny bit more pretending. The water washed off him, dripping down his toned, strong body, his olive skin, down his abs, his thighs, his short brown hair clinging to his scalp. He gave himself a quick handie, the thought of being able to bring men to his room exhilarating, then washed off the cum down the drain. His fingers traced his tattoo, the molecule of oxitocin on his inner thigh, also wondering if he would be able to get more now. Once out of the bath, he dressed in his usual Ralph Lauren polo, burgundy, with some chinos and Oxford shoes. He pushed his brown hair up and back, trying to look like he was going out like any other night, but deciding on his glasses to cover his blue eyes instead of his usual contacts. Made him look a bit less of a prep, in his own opinion. And with that he headed off to the address, marveling on the beautiful house before knocking on the door.