Forbidden by Abbey Lincoln

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Copyright 2013 Abbey Lincoln. 
    This is a work of fiction and entirely a work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter 1
                  I’d been in love with Ryan Scott for as long as I can remember. I think I loved him even before I knew what it all meant. For most of my youth, he was everything to me, though looking back now I realize I didn’t understand the significance of it, or how it would affect the rest of my life…and every relationship I’d ever have. It seemed Ryan was my own personal love barometer; the person every other man would have to measure up to, and none of them ever did. 
                  Back then, he was the first one I’d turn to when anything happened; it didn’t matter if it was of any significance or not. In fact, there isn’t a memory I have where he isn’t there beside me, holding my hand, wiping my tears, or sharing in my laughter. For so long, he was my best friend, the person I’d confided in and sought out when I needed advice or simply a shoulder to cry on. Given all we shared, it shouldn’t have been a surprise to anyone, least of all me, when our relationship turned from something so innocent to something filled with so much passion.               
                  Even I will admit that we were both a bit shocked and overwhelmed with how much passion we felt for each other at such a young age; how desperate and all-consuming it was. 
                  Our transition from best friends to lovers was such a seamless part of my youth that I can scarcely recall the exact moment it happened. In my mind, one minute we were a couple of kids texting each other stupid photos of ourselves making weird faces and then the next, we had crossed that bridge into adulthood, exploring each other’s bodies with reckless abandon and curiosity that can only be associated with young love.
                  Ryan, whose seventeen year old body was full of hormones, had the sexual appetite and stamina of most teenage boys. Luckily, he had a partner who was more than willing to experiment with anything his hormone-driven mind could come up with. My memories of that time are nothing more than a series of hushed whispers and a tangle of limbs as we tore each other’s clothes off in our attempts to discover more and more ways to pleasure the other. A smile comes to my face and a gently throb pulses inside of me as I recall the feeling of Ryan’s skin beneath my fingers. I shudder, thinking of him naked and on top of me, the look of desire in his eyes as he moves in and out of me, and finally, the look of sheer ecstasy as he reaches his climax, arching his back to bury himself deeper within me. 
                  My youth had been filled with curiosity as well. I’d spent countless hours stroking his penis while watching his expression, determining which caresses he preferred. I’d take him in my mouth and bring him to brink over and over again until he was begging to be inside of me. There were no secrets between us, no parts of our bodies that weren’t intimately familiar to the other. In fact, I knew Ryan’s body perhaps better than I knew my own. From his light brown hair that he kept cut short and neat, to his green eyes that could look at me for an instant and tell me his desires. I knew where he liked to be kissed, bitten and caressed. I’d covered every inch of his body with both my hands and lips and knew that if blindfolded, I would still be able to feel my way around a room of naked men and find him. 
                  And Ryan, I knew, could say the same of me. 
                  Even at such a young age, there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that the two of us would be together always. I realize now it was a stupid thing to believe in,