by Kit Fortier
“Could you… could you do me this time?”
Eric nodded.
“Let me get you ready, big guy.”
Ben’s heart pounded. Eric would be his first in many ways—but this was a first there was no coming back from. But for Eric, he would be happy to make that journey.
There was a snap of a lid and a feeling of lips on his length that took him to the base. Ben squirmed with his dick inside Eric's warm mouth. A finger gently slid its way in past the tight, wrinkled flesh that was the barrier to both Ben’s pleasure and his virginity.
How do you want it, Ben?
God, your mouth…
We can go any speed you want.
Ben’s eyes blew out as Eric had gone to three fingers. Knowing his girth, he might need four—but the big guy didn’t care, especially after each brush of his man’s fingers against the sensitive gland ratcheted up Ben’s pleasure.
Hard please god get in me now
The begging made Eric move fast.
Hold my hands, B.
Ben did, interlocking fingers with Eric’s outstretched hands. As he did, the press against his back door began. He held his breath, aware of the impending slide. Pain seeped in as he unconsciously tightened against the intrusion.
Breathe, Ben. Let me in. I don’t want to hurt you.
God, I want you so bad
You’ve got me. Breathe.
Ben exhaled. While his mind was focused on his breathing, the ring of his back door stretched slowly, fitted tightly against Eric’s cock pushing through. He cried out, and Eric held fast, dipping down to kiss Ben softly.
Too much oh god don’t stop please god you’re so big fuck want you
So warm, baby… So tight. You’re perfect, Ben. God you’re so beautiful.
Ben huffed in shallow breaths. Eric had seated deep inside Ben, and it was a feeling of being so full, so loved.
“You are a beautiful man, Ben.”
“Stop,” Ben said, shaking his head.
“It’s the truth. You give me so much. I’m happy I can give you this.”
Eric reached out and swiped the tears from Ben’s face.
Move, Eric. Make me feel you.
Ben’s heart constricted as Eric began to thrust. He had been gentle at first, but Ben wanted more.
Please, Eric… I need…
Eric nodded. He slammed into Ben, and Ben gasped. Eric did it again, and Ben’s brain exploded with lights. Each time Eric slid out completely, he shoved himself in, smashing himself against Ben with such force it knocked the air out of him.
God yes Eric so good so hard more please don’t stop
Eric nodded again, his movements erratic and intense. A familiar rush began crawling up Ben’s spine.
“Eric, gonna—oh my god—” Ben’s release threatened to make him pass out. His essence landed in wet splats from his cheek down to his navel. More explosions of light hit as Eric screamed out Ben’s name, filling him with his climax. Ben hadn’t realized he could come without someone touching his dick. It was one of the most intense releases he ever had.
Ben’s heart hadn’t stopped hammering. Eric pulled out and crawled on top of Ben.
“So beautiful,” Eric panted. “I want to remember that forever.”
“Thank you, Eric.”
“For what?”
“What we just did,” Ben admitted breathlessly. He pulled Eric’s head to his chest, over his heart. “It was beautiful.”
Eric’s head popped up, his eyes on Ben. He slid his body against his man until he was face to face with the big guy. Eric licked his cheek, swallowing Ben’s taste. Ben gulped. Eric kissed Ben deeply, then slid down to put his head on the cleft of Ben’s chest, underneath his chin.
“We probably should shower.”
“Could we do the bathtub?”
“Sure, E. That’d be cool.”
“I just want to lay here for a minute.”
Ben nodded, running his hands down Eric’s slick, soft-skinned back. He found the thatch again, and he ran his fingertips lightly through the patch of hair, causing his man to laugh into his chest.
“My dads left for a bit. I could hear them in the hall.”
“Oh?”
“You were asleep.”
“Oh.”
“I think Fox is gonna buy out a store for you.”
Eric laughed.
“We should probably set up some rules, so we don’t confuse each other.”
“Like?”
“If we can talk, we should.”
“I like that.”
“And if we’re alone, we should talk.”
“Okay.”
“But if our mouths are full, or we’re trying to be quiet—”
“Ben?”
“Eric?”
“Let’s keep it simple. If it’s just for us, if it’s just for you and me, then we’ll talk up here,” Eric tapped his temple without moving his head from Ben’s chest. “And if we’re out and about, we’ll talk aloud.”
“That’s good for me, E.”
“I hoped it would be, B.”
But I’m still gonna talk to you here, because I can.
Aw, Eric…
“I’m gonna go start the water, okay?”
Ben nodded. After Eric got up, Ben was very aware he was ripe with his own essence. The bath should help that. He ran fingers over a tender spot on his neck—the place where Eric marked him. In its current state of hypersensitivity, the slightest pressure from his fingers seemed to send shivers from his scalp to his toes. He smiled.
Ben’s phone buzzed. “I got it,” Eric called. He answered. Ben heard the water turn off, and the drain plug pulled. Eric came in after, smiling.
“Your dads want us to come down to dinner.”
“Now?”
“Well, I told Fox we were going to take a bath together. But if there’s a deadline for dinner, we probably should just get ready.”
Ben let his head fall back as Eric crawled up his body, his golden eyes set on his.
“I have some cologne in my toiletry kit,” Ben said with a grin.
Eric laughed. “That’s a plan.”
“Come here and kiss me, you.” Ben soaked in the feel of Eric’s lips pressed against his. And with that quick kiss, Eric helped Ben to his feet. They did a quick rubdown with a wet face towel, threw on the clothes they wore earlier, hit each other with a spritz of cologne, and headed out the door.
*** Eric
Being with Ben was magical. Beyond that. Looking at him made Eric happy. When Eric entered him, Ben never questioned his know-how, he just wanted more of him inside. That was a fact that made his heart flutter.
They stood side by side, hand in hand. Eric stood at Ben’s shoulder, but that was a difference that mattered little to them. He loved looking up at Ben, and never felt closer to anyone.
How could he contribute to this family—to earn his way? The usual “trades” were off the table here. The Foster-Hughes men were kind, honorable, and invested in each other deeply. It would mean a lot to him to do more than survive. With Ben, with Fox, with Jake, he might actually be able to thrive.
First things first. Make sure they don’t ditch him in Las Vegas. The way Ben clung to him, that wasn’t likely, but he didn’t want to overstay any welcomes, or be the cause of familial unrest.
Fox and Jake were waiting in the lobby, as the younger husband said. They approached with hugs.
“Hey there, boys,” Jake said.
“We got you guys stuff,” Fox grinned. “But Papa Bear here told me to hold off until after dinner.”
“It’s only common sense, Papa Fox,” Jake smirked. “I’m surprised we didn’t just take this stuff back to the room.”
“I wanted to avoid any undue encounters,” Fox replied. Eric saw him wink at Ben, and Ben’s ears turned red. Jake nodded.
“Right. Well, there’s all kinds of things to choose from. Anyone in the mood for anything?”
Ben looked at Eric expectantly.<
br />
“Oh—I could go for a really good cheeseburger?”
Fox smiled. “Right this way.”
The four wandered up to an upscale burger joint. The fare was what Eric expected. Yet, there were certain tweaks: aiolis, pestos, cheeses Eric hadn’t even thought of, brioches, toasted sesame seed buns... He was so embarrassed to ask for his order. He was so quiet the server had to ask for it twice. Ben’s hand appeared on his lap from nowhere, and Eric spoke up with confidence.
Before the food came, questions were fired off.
“Eric,” Jake began, “What would you like to do once we get to California?”
“Do?”
“Yeah. We can help you get your GED, and then help you get into college, if you want.”
The thought of school terrified Eric. “I don’t think school is a good idea,” he said, turning his eyes from view. Ben found his hand and held it tight.
Do you want to talk about it?
Eric’s knee-jerk response was abject rejection. This was not a story for the weak of heart. But if he had any chance to change his situation, it was with these men—who have already devoted a great deal of energy, alchemic, financial, even literal to his wellbeing.
If he could trust anyone with the details that truly lead him to this point in his life, it would be them.
At the very least, it would be Ben.
Maybe later. You all should know.
Eric was surprised when Ben’s bear of a dad knelt down beside him. “We’ll take things slow, okay? You don’t have to do a thing you don’t want to. Just promise me you’ll let us know if something doesn’t feel right to you.”
Eric nodded, shocked when Jake put a hand on his cheek. It was a fatherly gesture—though Eric hadn’t been familiar with such acts of kindness from those related to him. “We’ll help you, Eric. Don’t worry.”
Eric turned and looked at Ben, who gave him a gentle smile.
Dinner arrived and was eaten without incident. The four men returned to the room, sated with amazing food and happy company. Eric had decided to stick to his promise to Ben. He would open up and talk about the things that made him afraid of something as simple as school.
After a quick wash-off, the two younger men changed into more comfortable clothes. When they were settled in, Ben and Eric walked out to the living room where the older men were waiting.
“I wanted to tell you all about what happened to me,” Eric started. “You all have been so kind, and if you’re all to trust me, I should be open, even if what happened was… Not something that happens to kids.”
Eric’s hosts each shared looks of familial concern. He felt Ben’s warmth behind him, radiating through him.
Jake motioned to the loveseat. Ben sat first, stretching his long arm over the back of the seat. Eric sat next to him, pulling his feet under him, making him as small as possible against the man he loved.
Fox cleared a corner and came back with four bottles of water, setting them down in front of everyone. He took a seat next to Jake, giving Eric his full attention.
The horror that had been Eric’s early life began when he was eleven. He loved school. School was a way from a mom and dad who barely cared enough to barely feed him. They sent him on errands that put him in some very shady places. He was buying drugs. He just didn’t know it then.
A new teacher came into town who changed Eric’s outlook. The teacher was not overt about his interests at first. But first came bad grades when Eric knew his homework and studies were good. Then came after school one-on-one “tutoring” sessions with this teacher. Eric would feel the teacher's hand on his back. A slow caress on the side of his head. A strange neck massage that would have been fine for grownups, but kind of hurt for a kid.
Then came the day that they were the absolute last people to leave the school. The teacher said so. Eric insisted he had to be home. He said his parents expected him back soon. But they both knew it was a lie. It was an open secret that his parents were not likely to care. They were no-shows to parent teacher nights, conferences. They never picked him up on early release days. They barely came for him on normal school days.
The teacher had assaulted Eric. Police reports had photos of bruises on the neck, the arms. The hospital reports spoke of rectal damage. The teacher would have killed Eric, if not for another teacher passing by. She forgot something in her classroom when she saw the light from the window into his own classroom. She pulled a fire extinguisher off the wall in the hallway and took the teacher by surprise. She hit him over the head hard, knocking the man out with his pants around his ankles and blood on his privates.
Eric's blood.
That should have been the end. But Eric was now afraid of school. Afraid of people in it. Afraid of people in positions of authority. He went, because it got him out of the house—but his teacher's assault on his little body gave his parents a horrifying idea.
If someone wanted Eric bad enough to have at him, maybe they could get paid for the use of their property. They succeeded in putting this terrible plan into action for two years.
They took him to motel rooms where men waited in line. There were rules. No marks that couldn’t be covered by clothes. No bruises on the face. Everything else was fair game, he heard his parents say. He watched those men hand cash to his parents before they left the room.
If he bled, Eric’s parents would hold off on passing him around until the boy healed. If they were hard pressed for money, they made him use his mouth instead.
They took him to rest stops for meetings with random truckers. Those truckers pulled him into their cabs when they paid his parents. He was trained not to scream, since passers-by would likely report the noise. If the johns reported that the boy was too loud, the man who was Eric’s father punished him at home. He’d be made to hold a shallow squat with a jug of water in each hand, held out to the sides or in front of him. He’d have to run around the back yard until his father was tired watching him. He had to do pushups in multiples of 50 with his nose touching the floor.
Most of the time, the punishments ended when Eric blacked out from fatigue.
One fateful weekend, after having healed up from an encounter the week before, Eric’s parents took him to a storefront head shop for a rendezvous with the owner. His parents traded his body for weed. The owner paid them in goods and pulled Eric into the back room. As soon as the door closed, the owner quickly took Eric by the hand and led him out the back door. He spoke into his wrist, and policemen swarmed in. The owner, it seems, was an undercover cop. The actual owner was propositioned weeks ago for this heinous exchange—and he reached out to the police to intervene and save the boy.
That was where Eric's parents prostituting their thirteen year old son had finally come to an end. His parents had been busted by a small army of cops whose sole effort was breaking up a series of pedophile rings in the county.
Eric was wary of the police, wary of adults in general, especially men who had that predatory look in their eyes. He could walk into a place now and see just who had the potential for harm and separate them from the people who would not.
But Eric’s traumas were far from over.
There were the foster homes.
There was one where he was beaten bloody across the face for accidentally breaking a plate. He missed school for a week. His foster parents forced him to stay home and recover from the pain. In truth, they were waiting for the bruises to fade so social services wouldn’t be called. But because he missed school for a week, they were called.
There was one where an older foster child touched him. He was lucky his social worker cared enough to look into it and place him in a different home.
There was one where he was ignored when he came home with bruises. Bruises from bullies that followed him all his middle school to high school life. The other kids enjoyed taunting him about being nothing more than a hole for greasy men to fuck. How much he probably loved being a boy whore. Taking it up the ass for anyone. A willing plaything fo
r perverts.
Kids could be so cruel.
He had enough. At sixteen, he ran away from it all.
He dropped out of school, no longer trusting anyone to come to his aid.
He left town on what little money he had. He got food and a night’s rest in homeless shelter after homeless shelter. He staved off advances and avoided anything and anyone having to do with drugs. That he tested negative for any sexually transmitted diseases after all that he had been through was a miracle in and of itself.
Until Eric remembered why it was a miracle to begin with.
He struck a deal with a coffee shop owner to work for her in exchange for a place to stay in the back room. That lasted a few months until the woman hired her daughter.
When he was eighteen, he could find work without trouble, though his choices without a high school diploma were slim. He would stock groceries late at night. He would do janitorial work at night. Everything he could possibly do, he did at night. At night, everyone was asleep and left him alone. Soon, he finally had enough to afford a small place that had a shower and a mattress in it. It was enough for him.
But sometimes he didn’t have enough to pay the rent.
Sometimes he didn’t have enough for food.
Sometimes he needed the cash for other things. Urgent care visits. Meds. A costly repair in his apartment when his shower flooded when he was at work. Thankfully, he was on the first floor, but it was not cheap to fix. Eight-hundred bucks might as well have been eight-hundred thousand.
Those times, he turned to the one thing he knew. When all else fails, he still had his body.
That had to be worth something, right?
Jake covered his mouth. Fox couldn’t contain his horrified look.
Ben…
Ben’s arm was wrapped around Eric so tight it threatened to cut off his breathing.
Nothing was said. Not for a while. The city was covered in darkness—its lights shining bright against the night. Fox put his hand on Jake’s arm, and Jake took Fox’s hand in his.
Could they read each other’s minds like Ben could read his? Eric was curious. Much apparently was said in that touch.
Jake cleared his throat. “Eric—you’re old enough to make your own decisions. We won’t take anything away from you. But we can help. We want to help. Is there anyone you… Do you need to see someone?”