Chapter 29

I had probably been born a bit wicked, and that became especially obvious in front of Yan Yang.

My feelings towards him had always made me feel muddle-headed. In front of him, I always did things that I couldn’t believe I had done when I looked back on them.

He knew how to set off the evil side of me, as well as my strange desires.

Yan Yang’s fingers lay atop the piano keys as he took deep breaths. I rammed my cock into him. “Play.”

A whine escaped his throat, his fingers curling.

“Not going to?” I began to thrust upwards, burying myself so deep inside him that he had to cling on to the piano with both hands, barely able to stay on my lap.

“You’re not going to play?” I gripped his waist with one hand, and his cock with the other, “You’re already this hard; if you can’t cum it’ll be very uncomfortable later.”

“Ge…” Yan Yang turned back to look at me with a pleading gaze. I kissed him on the lips, “Good boy; play the piano.”

He turned back to face the piano, his ears tinted red – perhaps due to the beam of sunlight shining on him from outside, or because his lust was swallowing him whole.

Yan Yang began to play the piano in disjointed fragments. When he played, I continued to thrust inside him, but once he stopped, I would stop moving as well.

“Ge, don’t stop,” Yan Yang whined in my lap, his hole squeezing about me as he wriggled his hips trying to get me to move.

“Then you don’t stop either.”

His brows furrowed as he bit his lip, then he continued to play the piano. His fingers were weak, and he could barely stretch them out, so this time, the standard of his playing had dropped severely – it couldn’t even compare to how he had played when he was ten.

Yan Yang started to moan. His moans were like the black keys of a piano, while the song he played was the white keys. Just as the black keys were interspersed among the white keys, his moans blended in with the song, becoming one.

“Now this is what you call a world-class piece,” I said, biting and sucking on his ear. His whole body had gone limp, and his hands trembled as they pressed the keys.

Yan Yang had been restraining himself. He tried to pull a little trick, purposefully skipping over some notes and going straight to the last part of the piece.

Although I didn't know how to play the piano, I had heard him play this piece countless times already. I knew it like the back of my hand – if something was missing from it, I would immediately notice, but I didn't feel like calling him out right now. When the last note was played, I plunged deep into him. Yan Yang tilted his head back, a loud moan falling from his lips.

“Ge…” I knew Yan Yang was feeling uncomfortable because my finger was covering the tip of his dick, preventing him from cumming.

“Ge, let me cum…” He turned around to beg me, but I simply locked lips with him while continuing to move inside him. I wasn’t going to let him off.

But Yan Yang had his own tricks for dealing with me too. We were too familiar with each other, too aware of how to get the other in the palm of our hand.

He simply put down the piano lid and got up, leaving.

I stared at him, surprised. Soon after, he turned back around and hoisted himself onto my lap, facing me as he took my cock and positioned it at his entrance before sinking down on it.

“Ge…let me off, please…” He began to put on a coquettish act, knowing I couldn’t maintain my resolve in the face of it.

Yan Yang’s hands roamed my body as he started to bounce up and down on my cock. Indeed, I was unable to maintain my resolve and ended up letting him cum, right between us.

Our pyjamas had been dirtied, and so had the piano stool.

I glanced at the semen on the piano stool and intentionally ignored it

I wrapped my arms around Yan Yang and started pounding my cock inside him. He cried out without restraint, and moved his hips without restraint either. The Didi who used to timidly look at me and cautiously gain my favour had disappeared, and in his place was now one who madly sought out his desires and had a hundred ways to tease you…

During that period of time, despite having wracked my brain, I still couldn't find a phrase I was willing to use to define our relationship.

After climaxing, all the strength left Yan Yang's body. He supported himself with both hands on the piano behind him, his body moving along with my thrusts like a leaf about to fall from its branch.

He was not a dried leaf, however; he was a fresh, pretty leaf, filled with vitality. A fresh leaf that was swaying under the torment of evil winds, soon to be possessed by the wind.

He tipped his head back slightly, his eyes closed, his whole being soaked in his crimson red lust while I watched him expressionlessly. I loved this sort of pleasure, but I remained unwilling to face this fact.

I was already able to admit that I only lusted for Yan Yang's body alone. I craved to leave my mark on every inch of his skin, to own him, and to have him fully belong to me.

But I refused to accept this part of me.

When I made love with him, I started to detest myself.

By the time I told Yan Yang about these inner thoughts of mine, many years had passed already. Yan Yang was on my lap riding me, just like how he had by the piano all those years ago.

The rays of sun that spilled in were just as glaring as they had been so many years ago, and along with the semen left on the stool, they had all witnessed our struggle and entanglement.

But Yan Yang told me, “Ge, actually, I'm just like you.”

He panted as he rocked his hips, saying, “Back then, I was thinking, how could someone as disgusting as me exist?”