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Rain Falls Ch. 01

By: Trahi



WARNING: This story takes place in the '80s. 

It contains elements of prostitution, recreational drug use, violence, both consensual and non, and a flagrant disregard for safer sex practices. If any of those things are going to offend you, you might consider skipping this one.

500 Miles was posted in three long parts. Rain Falls is posted in seven short chapters. Let me know which format you prefer and I will attempt to accommodate the majority vote in the next story.

In addition, I'm still in the market for a beta reader/editor so kindly ignore any and all editing errors. 

*****

I breathed a sigh of relief at the snick of the lock. I was home, such as it was. Four walls and a roof that didn't leak. I was grateful. It was better than the last place. I stuck the bag of fried chicken in the oven to minimize the access of my ever present roommates, the roaches. It wasn't ideal but it would have to do for a few minutes. I scanned the room, making sure that everything was the way I had left it, before I stripped down and stepped into the small bathroom. The polished metal over the bathroom sink that served as a glorified mirror reflected back a slightly warped image of my body from the waist up. I pulled my long hair over my shoulder and turned my back to the mirror. I looked back and tried to see the damage but I couldn't see it well enough. I couldn't reach it either. The bastard had broken skin and I could feel it but there was no way that I could treat it. I would need help. Again.

I turned on the shower and got in. I didn't bother to wait for the water to heat up. There was no point. The water never got hot there. I didn't mind that much. Having running water was a luxury, even if it was barely tepid. I scrubbed my body, inside and out, to the best of my ability, with the harsh anti-bacterial soap. My ribs and hip bones were too prominent but that would get better. It was getting warm and everybody wants to play when it's warm. I'd have more money for food soon. After drying off with the only towel I owned, pilfered from a motel, I slipped into my favorite clothes, the ones that I wear when I'm not working. The most comfortable clothing that I owned was a pair of battered jeans and a sweatshirt. The clothes were second or third hand but serviceable. The shirt was baggy and the jeans were the right length but too big in the waist. They didn't quite fall off me. My sharp hip bones would catch them and hold them in place. I didn't bother with shoes. I only had the one pair and I wasn't going very far.

I gathered up the first aid kit, and the food, and locked the door on my way out. The deadbolt snapping into place always made me grin. I had installed it myself and the manager would be pissed as shit if he knew about it. I wasn't worried. He only showed up to collect the rent. Even then, everyone had to go to his office. 

"Vy. It's me," I called softly and tapped on the door next to mine. "Open up."

The door cracked only enough for her to peer out. She opened the door to admit me as soon as she was sure who it was.

"Rain, it's three o'clock," she scolded.

"I know," I told her and held up the bag of food. 

Her eyes opened wider at the smell of fried chicken. It wasn't exactly health food but I had no idea when the last time she ate anything was. I handed her the bag and she took it back to her bed. I followed her and sat on the mattress with her. 

She eyed the first aid kit, still in my hands, as she took a bite of a drumstick. "Again?"

I nodded. "Please."

She sighed and continued to eat. The food was more important. My back would wait until we were fed. We managed to devour the chicken within minutes. It wasn't enough to satisfy the hunger but it was better than nothing. "Let's see." 

I turned my back to her and lifted my shirt.

"Shit, Rain," she groaned. "Do you have any idea how germy the human mouth is?" she asked, running her fingers over the wounds, making me flinch.

"Yes," I admitted.

"Why do you let him do this shit to you?" She was pissed. I could hear it in her voice.

"He pays, Vinyl," I reminded her.

"It's not worth it," she scoffed. "This is going to scar."

"No it's not," I replied as she rubbed the cold ointment into the marks. "I never scar. You know that."

"Are there more?" she asked after securing the bandage, still annoyed.

"Yes," I told her. "But I can reach them."

"Let me see," she demanded.

I stood up and unfastened my jeans, letting them fall to the floor.

"Holy fuck!" she exclaimed at the bites on my ass. "I hope he paid you enough to put you out of commission."

"It's not that bad, is it?" I asked, trying to crane my head back in order to see my own butt.

"It's bad," she told me while applying salve and bandages to my butt cheek.

"Well fuck," I sighed. When she finished I pulled my jeans back up and sat down on the bed. I fished the money out of my pocket and handed it to her.

"This is $300. I can't take this." She pushed the money back at me.

"It's fine," I told her. "Take it. You need it."

"So do you," she snapped. "You can't work like that."

"I can still work," I argued. "Most of them don't want my ass anyway."

"No," she replied, stubborn as always.

"Take half," I offered. "It's two weeks rent. I'll get more tomorrow."

"I have enough for rent this week," she responded.

"Where'd you get money?" I asked, looking her over. I didn't see any damage on her but it wasn't always visible. She was six months pregnant and she didn't need to be turning tricks or worse. 

"Raul came by tonight," she explained.

Raul was a local dealer. Vinyl would occasionally sell a little bit of his stuff for him. She was very careful with her customers and it wasn't enough for her to get by on the profits but she couldn't afford to get arrested in her condition.

"You've already sold it?" I asked.

"I have some left. Do you need something?" she asked.

I shook my head. I couldn't afford food. I wasn't going to spend my hard earned money on drugs. "Take the $150," I told her. "I'm going to go to bed. I'll figure out something to get more tomorrow."

I stood up to go and she stopped me. "Take this." She slipped a small plastic bag in my hand. "It's not much but take it."

I nodded and bent down to kiss her cheek. "Thanks, Vy."

I snuggled down into my bedding before I rolled a joint out of what Vy had given me. The pot was nice but I wouldn't have paid for it. There were only two things that I splurged on. One of them was bedding. I had a mattress on the floor but it was mounded with blankets and pillows. My bed was my haven from the world and it was worth it to me. The other thing that I regularly spent money on was toilet paper. I refused to use cheap toilet paper. My ass was ravaged enough. There was no way that I would intentionally subject it to the sheets of sandpaper that I could get for free from the food pantry.

I had a hard time getting out of bed the next day. I just didn't want to. My dream life was so much better than my reality. In my dream world I was loved. I dragged myself out of bed anyway. I had to make some money. I cursed the Gods when I discovered that it was raining. That meant the clubs for me. I didn't mind going to the clubs, it was safer than the street, but there was always a cover charge. If I didn't turn l then I was out the money. I really couldn't afford to lose ten bucks each time I changed bars. I needed to get lucky on the first club I went into. I scrounged around in the clothing on the floor for something to wear. I was blessed in the fact that I could alter my entire appearance just by a change of clothes. My face and body blended seamlessly. I was somewhere between 5'10 and 6'2, depending on which 7-11 I was walking into as the joke goes, with blue/gray eyes that the women swooned over. My face was masculine enough not to be mistaken for a girl but feminine enough to be considered pretty instead of handsome. I had long thick eyelashes and full, almost pouty lips. My face was a little too long at my current weight but, when I filled out some during the warmer months, I was attractive enough to be called beautiful. I wasn't conceited about it but I took care of my looks. It was how I made my living. My one conceit was my hair. It would have been easier to take care of if it was short but I loved it long. I had thick, soft, black hair that came down past my shoulder blades. It was all one length and easily fit into whatever genre I was going for.

I could go for jeans and a t-shirt with some hair product and accessories for punk, all black for Goth, some satin and makeup for new wave, or a tight pair of wranglers and a hat to complete the cowboy look. There were lots of other choices if I was just looking to have fun but I needed to get paid. The metal heads knew how to drink and party but they didn't pick up hookers. The jocks were more likely to roll me than to pay me. They'd still want to fuck but then, after they were done, I was fair game for a beating. I didn't have the kind of clothing required to do the society scene. I was short a pair of boots at the moment and way too skinny so I opted out of the western clubs. The punks had even less money than I did so that left me only two choices. My personal preference was Goth but they tended to want to fuck and they liked to draw blood. Which was exactly how I got in the condition I was in.

That only left me one choice. It was the most dangerous place for me. There wasn't any such thing as a regular customer and the cops paid attention. But, if I didn't get arrested, I was likely to make a fuck ton of money. If I was quick and lucky, maybe I'd make enough to be able take a break long enough for my bites to heal. I winced at the prospect of how bad my knees were going to hurt at the end of the night. I sighed and shrugged. Like most of my life, my options were limited. It was time to suit up and head out. 

One of the drawbacks to living in Dallas was that the public transportation sucked. There was a farce of a bus system that nobody in their right minds would have used, unless it was pouring down rain. My destination was less than five miles from where I lived but it took me an hour to get there on the bus. During my long, meandering trip, the homeless guy sitting next to me pissed his pants. He didn't seem to care. He just sat there, with no discernable expression on his face, while urine seeped through and saturated his clothes. When I finally got to the club I had chosen, I was warned off. I had picked it because it was a very popular hotspot for the rich and the out-of-towners. The music was good and the X was plentiful. I knew that I'd be able to turn there. Unfortunately, someone else had the same idea.

"Hey." The bouncer grabbed my arm as I came around the building. "Save your money, Rain. The place is crowded already."

I looked him up and down. I didn't even know his name but he obviously knew mine. He was a typical club bouncer, stout and rough looking. He had a buzz cut and muscles on top of muscles. His nose had gotten personal with one too many fists in his life but his eyes were clear. He wasn't fucked up.

"Who's here?" I asked.

He shrugged. "A few guys. More girls. Popular tonight. Must be the storm." He took a drag off his smoke and looked out over the wet and dreary streets from where we stood, under the relative safety of the overpass. 

"Where do you suggest I go then?" I snapped. I wasn't expecting an answer. I was just being pissy. It was pouring cats and dogs and I had gotten drenched in the short walk from the bus stop.

"Try the Reeg," he offered. "There's a convention. Upper level management or some shit. Ought to be good for a trick or two. 'Sides... They ain't gonna let you in here like that."

I looked down at my clothes. I hadn't dressed for a hotel convention. I was dressed for club hopping. Or, apparently, swimming.

"Stop by the concierge. Name's David. He's my brother. They got plenty of threads left behind. Something's bound to fit you. Tell 'em Charlie sent ya. He'll hook you up."

"Thanks, man," I replied. "You want a blow or something?"

"Nah, man." He shook his head and stamped out his cigarette. "I'm straight. Just felt like being a nice guy for a change. Now beat it before the real me shows up."

The hotel wasn't that far, it was on the west side of downtown and the club was on the northwest side, but, by the time I got there, I was doing a wonderful impersonation of a drowned rat. David was just as nice as Charlie had been. He provided me with some clothes that fit as well as my own did and shoes that fit better than mine. He even let me use the room reserved for hotel management to shower and change. It had a blow dryer and all the toiletries that a person could ever need. Actual shampoo and conditioner, instead of soap, made my hair feel fantastic and the blessedly hot water in the shower was heavenly. In my experience, no one did anything for anyone unless they got something in return. David didn't seem to want anything from me either, which just made me suspicious. His only advice to me was that if I got busted, I'd never heard of him. 

I stepped back into the lobby looking better than I ever had in my life. The clothes were too big for me but everything that fit in length was always too big at the waist and the shoulders. The charcoal gray suit and red silk shirt looked great on me. There was no tie but I didn't know how to tie one anyway. I just left the first few buttons undone. I had no idea whose clothes I was wearing but I liked his style.

I had never gone cruising in that hotel before, it wasn't wise for a street kid like me, but a bar was a bar was a bar. It didn't take me long to pick up my first John for the night and, considering the proximity of the rooms, I was back in the bar in no time at all. Bathroom breaks have taken longer. I ended up turning six tricks that night. The odd thing to me was that there was never any discussion of money. None. They would just give me $200.00 in cash and I'd suck them off. Which was more than double what I made on the street. It was as if it was scripted. Those out-of-town convention guys had everything down to a science. Normally I charged based on what my customers could pay versus what they wanted. To be honest, $200 is about what I would make a night on the streets. Total. If it was a good night. I was stunned when the first guy gave me that much money. But then the second did too, and the third. 

The only variation was my last trick of the night. The whole reason it was my last trick was that he wanted to fuck. I knew that nobody wanted to see my mangled ass and I was about to turn him down when I realized he'd given me $500.00. But, as I started to refuse, he dropped trou and bent over the edge of the bed. I rarely, if never, got to top and I wasn't going to pass the opportunity up. I probably enjoyed it more than he did but I made damn sure that he got his money's worth. Honestly, I would have done it for free, it was that good. I went home with $1500.00 and a huge smile on my face. I even got to keep the clothes. Which was a good thing because I was definitely going to be back. I made more money in that one night than I had ever seen at one time before in my life. Vinyl and I were going to eat well for a change.

The next day Vy couldn't believe how well I had scored. I was still a little in shock from it myself. We went shopping and bought some real food. Vinyl made us dinner. We had steak and potatoes and actual vegetables. It was a huge expense but seeing happiness on her face was a treat for me. Vy was my best friend and she had as rough of a life as I had. She had parents but she hadn't spoken to them in years. Her ex-boyfriend used to beat the shit out of her on a regular basis and I could hear it through the thin wall separating our apartments. He was in jail but I had no idea how long he'd be there. I had been trying to take care of her since he was arrested. We never had sex. We were friends, not lovers. She was cute, 5'2, bleached blonde hair, big blue eyes and a heart shaped face, but I was a whore and she was pregnant. She had been a stripper before she got pregnant but she was tiny and she started showing when she was four months along and they wouldn't let her keep working. She was two years older than me, at twenty-two, but hard living took its toll on appearance. Neither one of us looked like we were in our early twenties. 

The apartment building that we lived in was odd for the area in that all the doors opened into a hallway, like a hotel. Because you had to enter the building before you got to the individual apartment door, it was called a security building, which we considered a joke. It was an anomaly in the midst of apartment complexes and houses in the area. It was all bills paid, pay by the week, low rent. That was also somewhat of a joke. At $75 a week, the rent worked out to about $330 a month. We could have had a one bedroom apartment anywhere in town for that much instead of a one room, less than an efficiency, bug infested box. The catch was, with no rental history, no credit, and, for most of us, no proper identification, we were lucky to get it and we knew it. Having once lived in an actual cardboard box, I was grateful for where I was. 

While our building did boast a laundry room, the machines never worked. So we gathered up our stuff and we walked the half mile to the laundry-mat. Walking around the neighborhood during the day was safe enough, as long as we were together. It wasn't safe for either of us a night but I couldn't help it. I worked nights. I had been mugged a few times but usually they were content to just take whatever I had on me. Occasionally they made use of my body while they were at it. I never fought back. I had only been roughed up once. Growing up on the streets had taught me how to survive. I knew when to give it up and when to run like hell. 

It took two weeks for Vy to pronounce my butt healed enough for exposure. Two glorious weeks where I did nothing but lounge around in my own bed, for a change, and eat my own food. It was wonderful and I probably gained ten pounds but, by the end of two weeks, I was itchy to get out and do something. I went back to the Starck.

"Hey, Rain!" Charlie called from across the lot. He was outside smoking again. I was starting to wonder if that's all he did.

"Hey," I replied when I got close enough.

"You're back," he said, needlessly. "You didn't like it over there?"

"I'm not working tonight," I told him. "I just came to dance."

"You do that?" he smirked. 

"Occasionally." I grinned.

"David says that you haven't been back."

"I've been recouping." 

His expression turned sour. "Did someone fuck you up? You should have told David. That shit's not kosher."

I shook my head. "Not there. It was before. I loved it over there. Thanks for sending me. I really appreciate it."

"Well if anyone tries to get rough with you, let David know," he responded. "Unless you're into that sort of thing."

"So you guys keeping tabs on me? Cuz I don't work like that. I'm independent."

"No." He shook his head. "It's nothing like that. It's just good business to make sure there are people available for full service. The hotel don't provide or manage them and they don't claim responsibility for them. But it's bad for business if a hooker turns up dead or fucked up, ya know?"

"So what's in it for you?" 

"Nothing. Just a warm fuzzy feeling," he smirked. "Most of you guys are strung out or fucked up or just plain assholes. I don't know your story or anything but you just seem like you're just trying to get by, ya know. I just thought you might appreciate a little help."

"You sweet on me or some shit?" I taunted him.

"Yeah. Something like that," he retorted. "Fuck no. You're pretty and all but you got something between your legs that just don't do it for me. Sorry."


Rain Falls Ch. 01



"You sure about that?" I teased him some more. "You never know. I could rock your world."

"Fuck you, dickhead," he laughed. "Get out of my sight before I kick your faggot ass."

"I think you like my ass." I leered at him and laughed.

He scowled and lurched toward me, swinging to smack me upside the head, but it was just a half-assed effort that I easily evaded. I blew him a kiss and he flipped me off as I headed for the huge quarter-round double doors of the club.

I spent the night dancing. I let people buy me drinks and even a tab of X but I didn't have sex with anyone. There was plenty of sex to be had there. People were fucking in the unisex bathrooms, in dark corners, even in not so dark corners. But sex was a commodity for me. I got paid for it and I rarely gave it up for free. I had urges, like everyone else, but when I got them, I'd just go back to work. There were nights when I couldn't pull but they weren't common. If it wasn't for recovery time, I could have made a lot of money. Even on the streets, where I made a small fraction of what I had at the hotel, I did pretty well. But the danger rate was high and the burn out rate was even higher. I was only twenty but I knew that my time was limited. I had been lucky so far but everyone's luck runs out, sooner or later. I just hoped to get out of it before that happened.

I slid onto the barstool just as the bartender pushed a cut-crystal rocks glass across the bar toward me. It looked like a gin and tonic with a slice of lime but I knew better. The bartender was one of the few people who, rightly, pegged me as being under the legal drinking age and he never served me alcohol. He was a nice guy, even if he wouldn't serve me drinks. He was older, mid-thirties was my guess, with dark hair, dark eyes, and a dark olive complexion. He had an honest face and a benevolent smile. His name was Tony.

"Slow night?" he asked.

"Yeah." I took a sip of my ice water to wash the taste out of my mouth.

"The girls seem to be doing ok." He pointedly glanced over my head to the tables beyond.

I didn't bother to turn. I knew what I would see. "They always do."

There were three girls and one other guy that regularly worked the hotel and I had gotten to know them in the three weeks since my bite marks had healed. I had been nervous about stepping on someone's toes but it wasn't a problem. The girls didn't see me as a threat. The way one put it, if they were looking for what I had to offer then they weren't interested in them anyway. The other guy didn't have a problem with me either. He was on the opposite end of the spectrum. He was blonde and delicate and he claimed to be 5'2 but I really thought he was shorter. Vy was 5'2 and he was definitely shorter than her. He was what they called a twink and anyone interested in him wasn't going to settle for me either. The five of us didn't hang out together, we weren't, exactly, friends, but we were friendly enough that the claws didn't come out... often. Five whores in one place seemed a bit excessive to me but the girls didn't all work at the same time. They each took a week a month off, out of necessity. I never did figure out how they managed to make sure they didn't all take the same week. 

I hadn't done as well there since that first night but there had only been one night that I hadn't gone home with something. It was a Wednesday night and the bar wasn't crowded. It was after 1:00 am and I had $200 in my pocket. I could have done better on the street. Of course, I would have had to work twice as hard for it. But, with the mood that I was in I probably would have hit up my favorite customer, the biter. It had been over a month since I had last seen him and, in a way, I missed him. As much as I craved his particular brand of pleasure, it was better for me to stay away from him.

"Too many macho cowboys in this town," Tony suggested. "You'd do well in San Fran or Vegas."

"It's fast and free in San Fran's bathhouses," I replied. "And too much competition in Vegas. I like it here. Besides, some of those macho cowboys are my favorite customers."

He chuckled softly. "Heads up," he whispered.

I sat up straighter at his warning and plastered a smile on my face. Nobody likes a sad whore.

"What can I get you?" Tony asked the guy who settled on the barstool next to me. It was a pretty telling move as there were plenty of other vacant seats.

"Bourbon, neat," he responded. 

His voice was warm and soothing and I checked him out in the mirror behind the bar. The distorted image reflected back in the etched glass was promising. He was a little bit taller than me with brown hair and glasses. He looked handsome, from what I could tell. I glanced down at his hands on the bar, no ring and no tell-tale line around his finger where a ring normally resided. His hands were wide and strong looking. His fingernails weren't manicured but weren't bitten off either. Tony placed his drink on the bar and walked off, giving us privacy.

"Dylan," he introduced himself.

"Rain," I replied and shook his outstretched hand. His grip was firm and his hands were calloused.

He chuckled. "You too, huh?"

"What?"

"Hippy parents," he explained with a smirk. "I was lucky that I wasn't a girl. I would have ended up with a name like Cosmic Rainbow Flowers or something."

"Something like that." I smiled at him. Now that I was looking at him, head on, he was a lot better looking than I had thought. His face was ruggedly handsome with a squared jawline, warm cinnamon brown eyes, and soft lips that were made for kissing. He was younger than his reflection had led me to believe as well, mid to late twenties. He had an aura of confidence and quiet strength. He didn't need my services and I was more than a little disappointed. There was always a chance that he was looking to sow some wild oats but he didn't have that look about him. He was trying to pick me up as a date, not as a paid escort.

I was seriously considering letting him have me. He was hot and it was a slow night. It was a bad idea to give freebies out. It was an even worse idea to do it where I worked.

"So what do you do, Rain?" he asked, cementing the idea that he had no clue what I was.

"I'm in entertainment," I told him with a small smirk.

"Entertainment?" he asked.

"Rain!" 

I turned at the sound of my name to see my favorite biting John striding toward me. "Well shit," I mumbled under my breath. It's what I got for thinking about him. I had accidently summoned him.

"What are you doing here?" he asked when he got close. His gorgeous gray eyes were stormy and his stunningly beautiful face was set in annoyance, bordering on anger. "Come with me," he ordered and wrapped his long fingers around my upper arm. I had no choice but to accompany him. He was a great deal stronger than I was and quite a bit bigger, in all aspects. I had no desire to make a scene.

When we'd gotten well out of earshot, and almost to the door, I realized that he was planning to drag me out of the bar. I planted my feet. It was enough of a resistance to make him stop. "I'm working, John," I told him.

"You're coming home with me," he stated.

"No." I shook my head. "I'm not. Go home."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm not going anywhere with you, John," I repeated.

He rolled his eyes. "Why do you insist on calling me that? You know it's not my name."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "When I get arrested, do you really want me to remember your name?"

He paused at that and changed his tactic. His features shifted from annoyed to seductive. "Come home with me, Baby," he crooned, caressing my face with his fingertips. "You know that you want to."

He was so gorgeous. He was over six inches taller than me with straight, blue-black hair that formed a drastic widow's peak and hung down to his waist. His eyes were such a dark gray as to be almost charcoal and his skin was so pale that he almost glowed. He had wide shoulders, a narrow waist and long, long legs. His body was toned and cut and lean and he could have anyone that he wanted. He wanted me and he was willing to pay for the privilege. I wasn't fooling myself that he liked me. He was hung like a horse, he liked rough sex and I could handle it. That was it.

He was almost irresistible. Almost. "No. I can't. It takes me too long to heal from being with you. You don't pay me enough to keep me out of work for weeks."

"I won't hurt you, Baby," he murmured, drawing his fingers down my neck and over my silk shirt. "You look fucking amazing."

It was the same suit that David had given me but I had supplemented it with different shirts. I was wearing black. It was too bad that I hadn't chosen pastel on the night that the Goth king decided to crash the party.

"No," I told him. "You always say that and I always believe you and then you fuck me up anyway. It took me two weeks to heal from those bites the last time."

"Come on, Baby. You like my teeth on you. We both know it." He gave me a coy grin. "And you love my big cock tearing you up." He leaned down and let his hot breath wash over my neck. "You want me pounding away inside you right now. Admit it, Rain. You fucking love it."

He was making my knees buckle. He was right. I loved it and I wanted him. It took everything in me to push him away. "No, John. Go home. I can't afford to be with you. Go find yourself another chew toy."

He sighed and stood straight, gathering his dignity. "Fine. But don't expect me to come to you again. You'll come looking for me. Don't think I'll make it easy for you. You'll have to beg for it, Rain. I'm not kidding."

I nodded and watched him walk away, knowing that he was right. I'd eventually come begging.

"Trouble?" Dylan asked when I sat back down.

I shook my head. "Just a work acquaintance."

"Your work in 'Entertainment'?" he asked.

I looked him straight in the eyes, willing him to get the message. "Yes," I replied flatly.

"Ahh," he nodded. "Well, the least I can do is buy you a drink," he offered. "What are you having?"

I barked out a sarcastic laugh. I couldn't even get a lousy drink in that bar. "Unless you plan on inviting me to your room and feeding me from the mini-bar, I'm afraid that's out of the question."

He squinted and looked me up and down. "How old are you?" 

I just arched my eyebrow at him. 

"Ahh." He stood up, pulled a ten out of his pocket and tossed it on the bar. He started to walk off and then stopped and turned back. "Come on," he said.

I slid off the stool and followed him.

I didn't pay attention to which floor we got off on. I spent the entire elevator ride staring out the glass wall at the view of the city as we quickly ascended above the buildings. I didn't pay attention to which room we went into either, which was unheard of for me. We stepped into a suite. I had been in one before but not often. The rooms I was usually invited to were of the standard variety. His suite had a view of the city and I moved to the window to stare out it.

"What would you like?" he asked.

"I'm not picky," I replied.

He poured two glasses from the kind of little bottles that you get on airplanes, not that I had ever been on one. He handed me a glass that was half-full of an amber colored liquid. It burned a path to my stomach as it went down.

"So, Rain?" he started. "Is that really your name?"

"Yes," I replied. "As much as anything is."

"What do you mean?"

"The story is that I was abandoned in a cardboard box, during a rainstorm, on Dutton Street." I had no idea why I was telling him so much. "They named me Rain Dutton."

"That's awful."

"Could have been worse. The next street over is called Falls." I smirked.

He chuckled and shook his head. "That's not what I meant."

"I know." I grinned. "Just a little levity," I explained. "So, what about you? Dylan Thomas or Bob Dylan?"

He looked surprised. "Thomas," he replied. "Bob didn't come onto the scene until a couple of years after I was born. You read?"

It was my turn to shake my head in incredulity. "Don't act so surprised. Hookers can read too."

He frowned and his brow furrowed. "That's not what I meant either."

I sighed. "I know. I'm sorry. I'm a little touchy tonight. You've been very nice. I didn't mean to be a prick."

He left me standing by the window and sat on the couch. "You really are a...?"

"Whore?" I supplied. "Yes. You can say the word. I know what I am."

"It's not the word that I would have chosen." 

"I'm not offended by it. You can't do what I do without developing a thick skin."

"Can I ask you a question?" 

"Sure." I abandoned the window and joined him on the couch. "Shoot."

"Are you gay?" he asked.

I was shocked. "That is so not what I expected you to ask," I admitted.

"What did you expect?"

"Why do you do it? Or how much do you charge?"

"I think the reason you do it is obvious. You do it to survive. It's the same reason we all do anything. As far as your fees... I wasn't thinking that, but I am now," he smirked.

"Well, that's the easier question to answer. It depends on what you want."

"There's a menu?" he joked.

"Yes," I grinned. "I don't have it printed on placards or anything but, yes. Anything from a simple blowjob on up."

"How much for a whole night?" he asked.

"Are you propositioning me?" I chuckled.

He shook his head. "Just curious."

"I don't do that," I told him. "I don't sleep with my clients."

He broke out in laughter. "When anyone else says that they mean something totally different."

His mirth was infectious and I couldn't help but laugh with him. "Yeah. I guess they do."

"So are you? Gay, I mean."

"No one has ever asked me that before," I told him. "Everyone assumes that I am. Honestly, I don't know. I have sex with men but not exclusively. Men are more likely to request my services. There are occasionally women that hire me. I don't choose my customers, they choose me."

"What about non-paying partners?"

I shook my head. "I don't have them."

"Never?"

"It's happened but not in recent memory. Even then, they chose me."

"How long have you been doing this?" he asked.

"Two years."

"Are you over eighteen?" he asked, looking slightly worried.

I laughed. "Yes."

"So, if you don't mind me asking, what was the deal with Dracula?"

I laughed again and set my, now empty, glass on the coffee table. "You really want to hear this?"

"Sure." He got up and retrieved a few more tiny bottles of liquor. He poured me another glass. 

"Are you trying to get me drunk?" I taunted. "Because, you know, you don't have to go to that much trouble."

He chuckled. "Can't hold your liquor?"

"I can hold anyone who wants to lick me," I retorted. "Are you? Gay?"

"Yes." he replied. "Dracula?"

I grinned. "He's a client. He feels that I've been neglecting him."

"Are you?"

I shook my head. "I'm avoiding him," I explained. "He bites."

Dylan's eyes opened wide in shock and then started laughing. He kept trying to say something but he was laughing so hard that he couldn't get it out. "He bites?" he squeaked out. "Who'da thought?"

When he finally stopped laughing I said, "My life is boring. Tell me about you."

"Oh God. If you think your life is boring, mine is going to put you to sleep. Coma even," he grinned.

"Try me," I replied.

"There's not much to tell," he replied. "I'm not trying to avoid the question. It's true."

"What are you in town for?" I prodded.

"I live here," he snickered.

"You live here but you just randomly decided to stay in a hotel?" I teased.

"Yeah." He smiled. "I had a meeting here and there was some drinking. I just got a room instead of driving."

"Oh. What kind of meeting?" I probed. "If I'm being nosey just tell me. I'm not easily offended."

"It's fine. I'm selling a piece of property and the buyer met me here. Stupid, really. We could have closed the deal over the phone."

"Is that what you do? Real estate?" I asked.

He shook his head. "I owned the property. 500 acres in Montana. My family had land all over but there's not much of it left."

"Then why sell it?"

"I didn't want to maintain it and someone else did," he explained. "I got an offer that I couldn't refuse. Couldn't. It was from the government. I had the choice of selling the property or having it annexed. They were going to take it either way. Let them have it. Good riddance."

"They can do that? Just take what's yours?"

He nodded. "In certain situations. It's fine. I got a damn good price on it and I didn't have any use for it anyway. Apparently, they did."

"What do you do?" I asked.

"I'm an architect," he replied.

"I would have thought something more physical," I admitted.

"Really? Why?"

"Broad shoulders, strong arms, calloused hands and a great body." 

His face colored slightly. He was embarrassed by the compliment and it was adorable. "Thank you." He rubbed his hands together like he was trying to scrub the calluses off. "I like to work with wood. I build things, furniture, mostly. I've always loved building things. I would have gone into construction but my parents insisted that I do something better with my life. Make something of myself."

"Must have been nice to have parents that cared that much about your future," I replied with as little hostility as I could manage.

He studied my face for a minute. "I understand where you're going with that. I wasn't trying to imply that my life was worse than yours. I was just trying to answer your question as honestly as possible."

"I'm sorry. I was being a prick again." I sighed. "My point was that you got the degree that they wanted and you have the freedom to do what you love too. It's a win/win."

"Yeah. You're right," he sighed. "It's just harder to see it that way when you're standing on my side of the fence. The grass is always greener, you know?"

"Well the grass looks pretty damn cushy on your side of the fence to me," I smirked.

"Tell me something. Do you enjoy it? Do you get pleasure out of it?"

"Sometimes," I replied. "Sometimes my pleasure is required. Sometimes it's not. Tonight, it wasn't."

"Tonight?" His voice went up an octave. "You were with someone tonight?"

I nodded. "Does that bother you to know?" 

"You just seem so... put together."

I chuckled. "Thank you."

"I mean... You're not rumpled or anything," he clarified.

"It didn't require me to get... rumpled," I smirked. His eyes unfocused for a second. I had a feeling that he was trying to come up with scenarios that fit the description. "Do you want to know?" I asked. "I'll tell you but be sure that you want to hear it."

His brow furrowed. "I'm guessing a blowjob."

"Good guess."

"So you gave a guy head and you got nothing out of it?"

"I got paid," I corrected.

"That's not what I meant."

"I didn't get off."

"Did it even turn you on?" he asked.

"No," I admitted.

"But he thinks it did?" he asked.

"I hope so," I smirked. "I'd like to think that I'm good at my job." His eyes lost focus again. "Now you're wondering how many guys that you've been with were faking their enjoyment."

"Yes." He blushed again. "Is that bad?"

"No. I'd say that it's pretty normal. We all want to believe that we are pleasing our partners."

"But sometimes you get turned on?" he probed.

"Sure."

"With Dracula?" 

I hesitated. I wasn't sure that he really wanted to know or that I really wanted to talk about it.

"I saw you at the door. You were practically swooning. I was surprised that you came back to the bar," he added.

"He's very intense," I responded.

"What does he do that makes him special, besides the biting?" he smirked.

I thought about my answer for a while. I was trying to find a way to answer that didn't come off making me look like a masochist. I also didn't want to lie to him. I didn't have any clue why it was important to me to be honest but it was. "Sex for him is more than the act. It's hard to put this into words. He gets off on the fucking, sure. He's a guy. We like having our dicks rubbed. But there is a part of him that can't enjoy it unless his partner is getting off to it. He has his kinks, like the biting, but he can't find pleasure in them unless his partner is. Is that making sense?"




Rain Falls Ch. 01



"So when you said that you're avoiding him because he bites, you're actually avoiding him because you like it when he bites you?"

I should have known that he'd be too smart to not connect the dots. I sighed, "Yes."

"I could never do that," he responded quietly. "I could never hurt my lover like that."

"It's not about the pain," I rushed to explain. He was the only person that I had ever talked to about this and, for some reason that I didn't really grasp, I needed him to understand. "It's about possession. He marks me because he wants to possess me, own me. He knows that I can't work when he does it. It's his way of keeping me to himself." As the words fell out of my mouth I realized that they were true. He was intentionally marking me to keep me from turning tricks and paying me too little to survive so I'd have to come back to him.

"So he's your boyfriend?" Dylan asked.

"No."

"But he wants to be," he stated.

Was that true? He'd never said anything even alluding to it. He'd also never left me unmarked. No matter how many times I'd asked him not to, he'd always marked me in some way. They had started out as love bites but had become progressively worse. Was that what he was trying to tell me? There was only one way to find out. I needed to talk to him. I glanced at the clock. It was almost two o'clock. There was no way that I could make it to Deep Ellum before the bars closed but I could make it before the after-hours clubs closed at four.

"Dylan, I need to go. Thank you." I leaned over and kissed his cheek then stood up.

"No problem. Anytime." As he was walking me to the door he asked, "Just out of curiosity, what's his name?"

I smiled. "Eric. His name is Eric."



Rain Falls Ch. 02



I started at Empire. It was the most logical place to find him. 

"Hey." I leaned over the counter in the entryway. "Is Eric here?" I asked the door girl.

"Eric who?" she replied, slightly annoyed.

"Tall, dark and Gothic."

She rolled her eyes. "Honey, you just described half the people in here."

"No. Like really tall. Six-six barefooted. Hair down to his waist."

She thought for a second and shook her head. "I don't think so."

"Thanks."

I nearly ran from Swiss to Elm and slowed when I got to Sambuca. The door guy was still there.

"Calvin! Have you seen Eric?" I asked, craning my neck back to look up at him. Calvin was a huge guy. He stood almost seven and a half feet tall and was built like a brick wall. He would have been terrifying except for the fact that he was one of the nicest people that I had ever met.

"Not tonight." His deep, deep voice rumbled through me. "Have you tried Empire?"

"Yeah. Thanks man. If you see him will you tell him that I'm looking for him?"

"Sure, man."

I walked up the street trying to figure out where he would be. 2826 was too preppy. Tommy's was too rock. Clearview was closed. That left me with Industry, all the way at the end of the street. When I got all the way up the street to the warehouse turned dance club, he wasn't there. Dejectedly, I strolled back down the street. I knew where he lived and it was a lot closer than my place but I couldn't get in. He lived in a converted warehouse just on the other side of the highway but it had a gate. In fact, it had a 12' chain link fence, topped by barbed wire, topped by razor wire. It required a garage door opener or a code to trigger it. I didn't have either.

I got more than half-way back down the street and sulked my way into Starlight Café. I still had most of the money I'd made that night, minus the cab fare I spent to get across town before the clubs closed. I decided to get a cup of coffee before heading home. I had a long walk ahead of me.

"Hey Rain, have a bad night?"

I threw myself into a chair at an empty table. I was gearing up for quite a fit. The waiter looked at me with something akin to sympathy. "Hey Jeff. I was trying to find Eric but I guess he's at home."

"Nah, man. He's upstairs," Jeff told me.

"Seriously? Fuck!" I bolted from the chair and ran up the stairs along the far wall. There were a few people that I knew on the balcony but not Eric. I crossed through and went up the back stairwell to the roof. He was at a table for four that had six chairs pulled up to it with people in all of them. I didn't care about any of them. I only had eyes for Eric. I didn't go over. I just pushed my jacket back, slipped my hands in my pants pockets and waited at the top of the stairs for him to notice me. I didn't wait long.

He was leaning back in his chair with his eyes narrowed in that deceptively bored look he got when he was irritated. His eyes widened when they locked with mine. His lips turned up just slightly and he dropped his hands into his lap and crossed his legs at the knee. I smiled at him and he arched one eyebrow. He'd said that he wouldn't come to me and he meant it. He was going to make me come to him. I pulled my hands out of my pockets and crossed the small rooftop terrace. 

I stood next to his chair but didn't say anything. He reached up and pulled me into his lap amidst clapping and catcalls from the group at the table. I smiled and wrapped my arms around his neck. 

"Take me home, Eric," I whispered into his ear. 

"No," he smirked. "You made me wait now you can wait."

I grinned at him. I was happy that he wasn't going to make me beg in front of everyone.

It was nearly 5:00 am before he took me back to his place. Eric was an artist and his place was always scattered with various pieces in partially completed states. He was popular and he did a lot of commission work for clubs and private collectors but his passion was the macabre. There were times when his place resembled a ghoulish scene straight from one of the latest slasher films. There were frequently miscellaneous body parts lying around in graphically rendered states of decomposition. In the year that I had been seeing him I had learned to judge his state of mind by the pieces that he was working on. Based on the fact that he'd murdered quite a few mannequins, there was a great deal of gore, and he had nothing in the works that I would consider lively, he was upset.

He slid the warehouse door closed, turned to me and uttered one word. "Beg."

I shook my head. "I'm not here for that, Eric. I'm here to talk."

He scoffed. "Talk? We never talk."

"I know," I smirked. "I think it's time we started."

"I'm not paying you to talk, Rain."

"You're not paying me at all, Eric. I'm here by my own choice."

His eyes widened for a bit as he registered what I'd said. It was the third time I said it but it was the first time he'd caught on. "You called me Eric."

I smiled. "Yeah."

His eyes narrowed into slits. "What do you want?"

"What do you want?" I retorted. "What do you want from me? I need to understand what we're doing here. I need you to tell me."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

I crossed the floor to where he still stood by the door. I got close enough to him that I had to tilt my head back to maintain eye contact. "Do you like me?" I whispered. 

He cocked his head with a sad sort of smile and ran his hands down my arms. "Don't you know that already?"

I shook my head.

"Yes I like you, Rain. I more than like you."

"Do you want me, Eric?" I backtracked when I realized how that sounded. "For more than this. Am I just a whore to you? I need to know. I'm not trying to-"

"I know you're not," he interrupted. "I thought that you knew this. I don't... I'm not good at this, Baby. This..." He swept his hand indicating his work all around us. "This is how I communicate. I'm not good at the talking and sharing thing."

"You're doing fine," I assured him. "Just stay with me for a little longer. I just need a few more answers. Ok?"

He nodded. 

"Do you want to be with me? Like, a couple? Like my boyfriend?"

"Fuck," he groaned and looked up at the 20' high ceiling. "I'd love that, Rain but I can't. I want to but I'm not good at that either. I will fuck you over. It's what I do. I always fuck up everything that I care about."

"You care about me?" I squeaked.

His chuckle was hardly more than a breath. "More than you realize, obviously." He reached up and combed his fingers through my hair. It was the first time that I could remember him doing anything that could be considered sweet or loving. "Yes, I want you. Yes, I care about you. Yes, I would love for you to be my boyfriend."

"But?"

"But... I'm seriously fucked up. Look at my life, Rain. I'm a disaster. I don't want to drag you down with me."

I laughed. "How much further down can I go? I'm a prostitute, Eric. I sell my body. I have no other skills and no prospects. You can't seriously be worried about lowering my standard of living."

He chuckled for real that time. "We're quite a pair, aren't we?"

"What do we do now?" I asked. "Do we try to make it as a couple or do we go back to being John and trick or do we end the whole thing and just walk away from each other?"

"I don't want that," he replied. "I don't want to stop seeing you. The last few weeks have been hell on me. I nearly went bat-shit crazy when I heard that you were working the hotels."

"So what do we do?"

He stared into my eyes for a long time. "Stay with me. Move in with me. I don't want you working anymore. I hate it when you pick up Johns."

"I can't," I told him. "It's too fast. Can we try getting used to the idea of being boyfriends before we jump into a mortgage together?"

He sighed. "See what I mean about being fucked up?"

"It's not fucked up," I argued. "You've known about this for a while. I just figured this out tonight. I need a little adjustment time. Ok?"

He nodded. "Stay with me tonight. We don't have to have sex. I just want you here. Ok?"

I smiled and nodded. "Can we have sex anyway? I'd like it if we could."

He gave me an evil grin. "Only if you beg."

I stood up, on my tippy-toes, and wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing him. It wasn't one of the caught up in the heat of the moment kisses that we had shared before. It was intentional, fully engaged and soul-searingly passionate.

"Please, Eric," I pleaded. "I need you inside me."

"On your knees," he growled.

Just like that he'd gone into full on, dominating, force to be reckoned with. I slid down his body and onto my knees immediately. "Please. Use me. Let me pleasure you. Make me yours."

He brushed his thumb over my lips. "Say my name again, Rain and I'll let you suck my dick."

"Eric," I moaned. "Please, Eric."

"Yes." He popped the button of his leather pants and slid the zipper down torturously slowly. 

My mouth started to water at the sight of his meaty cock. Even semi-hard, as he was, he had a huge dick. There was a joke about nothing twelve inches coming in white but it was wrong. Fully erect, Eric's cock had to be nearly a foot long. Soft, his cock was a comparable length to mine when I was hard but his was thicker. I wasn't small. In normal worlds I was considered hung at around eight inches. He made me look diminutive. 

"Suck it, Rain," he commanded. "I want to come in your mouth."

I gripped the base of his shaft and circled his fat cockhead with my tongue, wetting it, tasting it. He didn't often try to come in my mouth. His cock was huge but he wasn't overly sensitive and it took a long time to get him off orally. My jaw was going to ache like a son-of-a-bitch long before I'd be able to make him come. His dick lengthened and thickened in my hand and in my mouth while I sucked on his head and stroked the shaft. I was a professional and I took pride in my ability to suck cock. Unfortunately, sheer size constraints reduced the amount of skill that I was able to use on him. I had long since eliminated any gag reflex, and I could get his cock in my throat if he wasn't completely hard, but, once he was at full mast, it just didn't fit. 

His cock was beautiful, just like the rest of him. He was biggest at the head and I had always thought that if I could just train myself to be able to take the spongy head I could handle the rest. But I had never been able to. I briefly wondered how much my esophagus would stretch before shredding and decided that, being his boyfriend now, I would probably find out. He filled my mouth to capacity and I had to pull off of him to employ any tongue action. With just the head in my mouth, I slid his pants down his hips so I could have access to his balls. He was completely shaved, his entire body was hairless, and I loved sucking on his balls almost as much as he loved it. I couldn't get both of them in my mouth at once without risking hurting him so I had never tried. He was most responsive when I was using my mouth on his balls or his ass, which I couldn't do in the position that we were in.

I licked and sucked his balls while I jacked his cock until he was moaning in pleasure. He groaned when I pulled off him. "Let me rim you, Eric."

"No. I want to come in your mouth."

"Please. I want to taste you. I won't make you come," I begged.

He nodded and turned, bent slightly and flattened his hands out on the door. I ran my hands over his perfect ass and down his lean and muscular thighs. Parting his firm globes with my hands I dragged my tongue from his perineum to the top of his crack. I watched his tightly furled hole twitch. He'd never let me penetrate him with anything other than my tongue. He'd never asked for it and it wasn't my place to request. I wondered if that would change. He loved having my tongue inside him. Would he want my cock now too? The thought made my dick swell to uncomfortable proportions in my pants. He wasn't going to allow me to rim him for long and I wanted to wring as much pleasure out of it as possible so I dove right in. I laved around his soft pink pucker long enough for him to relax before I pushed my tongue inside him and fucked his tight entrance. 

"Fuck yes," he hissed, pushing back onto my face. "More."

I licked and sucked and nibbled on him for all I was worth. His loud moans, grunts and curses drove me on. 

"Oh fuck. Fuck yes," he growled. Suddenly, he pulled away from me and whipped around. He dug his fingers into my hair and yanked my head. "Open," he ordered. He was jacking his cock with his other hand and he shoved it in my mouth as soon as I complied. He started shooting the second his cockhead passed my lips. In his passion, he shoved too hard and slammed into the back of my throat forcing tears to spring to my eyes. He pulled back quickly and continued stroking his shaft while he fucked my mouth. "Yes," he hissed. "Take my load, whore. Take it all," he moaned.

I hadn't been expecting it and he came a lot. It was more than I could swallow and it leaked out of my mouth and ran down my chin. He kept shooting for, what seemed like, forever, and I wondered how long he'd gone without coming. As soon as he stopped, he dropped down to the floor and attacked my belt buckle. I didn't resist. I knew that he wasn't finished with me. He yanked my pants down and flipped me over, shoving inside me. He wasn't fully hard but he was still big and I screamed. He didn't use any lube, other than the remnants of my saliva and his spunk, and I hadn't been penetrated in days. I could take him. There was always pain with him but, as rough as he always was with me, he'd never torn me. I wasn't sure that anyone had ever torn me, not that I knew about, anyway. I had been sore and swollen lots of times but I'd never seen any blood. But even if I had been fucked every day it wouldn't have prepared me to take his cock dry.

He didn't wait for me to adjust, but then, he never did. He started pounding me into the cold concrete floor immediately. He only paused his assault long enough to tear at my clothes. He wanted access to my skin. The jacket came off with ease but he couldn't get access to the buttons on my shirt. He literally ripped it down the back. It was cheap. I had purchased it at Goodwill. But it was supposed to be silk, according to the label, proving the amount of strength he had in his hands. His cock swelled and pulsed inside me the instant he got his teeth on me. With him being fully erect again, the constant pressure on my prostate was sending me into a state of euphoria. It felt like I was falling over the edge into a mind-blowing orgasm the entire time he was relentlessly pummeling my tender fuckhole.

He was leaning on his elbow, up near my head, and had the fingers of his hand buried into my hair, forcing me to keep my head turned to the side. His other hand was gripping my hip so tightly that I knew I'd have bruises left behind by his fingertips for a week. 

"Fuck, Baby. You're so fucking tight. I'm not going to be able to hold out." 

I would have laughed if my mind had been functioning. It was his version of a quick fuck but it felt like he'd been wrecking my ass for hours. He slowed his thrusts. It wasn't for my benefit. He slowed down when he was trying to delay his orgasm. The side effect, and we both knew it, was that his shallow, slow thrusts put his plump cockhead right at the perfect spot to trip me. He was going to force me to come right there, on the floor, surrounded by dismembered body parts. 

My body started to writhe under him, hips grinding, fingers clutching for purchase on the seamless, sealed concrete floor. My skin heated, blood pounding, heart thumping, head aching. 

"That's it, Baby," he crooned into my ear. "Fuck yes. Come for me."

He bent his head and sucked the skin on the back of my neck, at the junction of my shoulder. My mind registered what he was about to do and my body responded by tilting my forehead down, giving him better access. I cried out in ecstasy as he sank his sharp teeth into my neck and a raging inferno crashed through my system, charring me from the inside out, spilling my seed onto the floor.

When my vision and hearing cleared he'd moved his mouth down my shoulder and bitten me in a different place. He was plunging his full length deep inside me with a driving force that surpassed any he'd used on me before. Soon his hips fell out of rhythm and he released my skin from his teeth. He roared my name and unloaded his essence deep into my bowels.

He tenderly licked all the blood from my damaged shoulder while he continued to slowly thrust his softening cock inside me. When his breathing returned to a semblance of normal, he slid down my body and used his tongue to bathe the other part of my body that he'd damaged. Once he was satisfied that he'd cleaned up the mess he'd made of me, I felt his teeth on my butt cheek. I held my breath. I knew that if I asked him not to he'd do it just to spite me. All I could do was hope that he'd spare me this time. I waited. He sucked the skin but didn't bite down. He released me and sat back.

"Turn over."

I flipped onto my back carefully to avoid kicking him.

He reached down and removed my shoes, socks, and pants from around my ankles. Then he straddled my waist and unbuttoned my shredded shirt. I helped him slip it off of me. I was completely naked and, since he'd pulled his pants back up, he was completely clothed. I was also lying in a puddle of my own cum.

He skimmed his fingers down my chest. "Mine," he grunted in a caveman-esque manner.

I smirked up at him. "I know that you're not good at the whole talking thing but could you, at least, try to form complete sentences?"

He squinted at me but he was fighting a grin. "Don't be an asshole. Tell me that you're mine."

"I'm yours." I smiled.

"Good." He grinned. "Are you hungry, Baby? Did you eat today?"

"I'm tired," I replied. "Are we going to sleep on the floor?"

"No." He crawled off me and scooped my body off the floor.

"Ack! What are you doing?"

"Taking you to bed," he responded, matter-of-factly. He stood with me in his arms and carried me, bridal style, up the stairs.

"I'm not a woman," I complained.

"Thank fuck," he chuckled. "Do you have any idea how much they bitch when I try to stick my cock up their asses? I like you better. Never once had a girl wiggle her ass at me and beg me to fuck her ass hard like you do."

He dropped me into the middle of his king-sized bed. His bedroom looked like what you would expect from a Goth with enough money to blow on hookers. It had black on blood-red bedding and a wrought iron bed frame. It wasn't the typical scrollwork in the iron. The head and foot boards looked like dead tree tops, complete with barren branches and the occasional lonely leaf. It looked sharp and pointy and I was glad that he'd never attempted to bend me over the footboard. It also wasn't delicate. The corner posts were only about four feet high but they were stout. The crossbars were almost as thick as the posts and would require a lot more strength than I had to bend them. I knew from experience, having been tied to them before.

He pulled the thick black curtain across the open end of the loft to block the light of the rising sun before he started to undress. "It's always 'No, Eric. Take it out. It's too big. You're hurting me'," he cried in an affected falsetto voice. "You'd think I was trying to fist them or something."

"Maybe you should stick to whores. We know how to take it," I told him as I watched him strip.

He froze. "Don't do that," he said softly. "Don't talk about yourself like that. I don't like it."

"Eric, it's what I am," I replied. "You even call me that."

"I do not," he argued.

"Yes you do. You call me that when we're fucking. You said it tonight when you came in my mouth."




Rain Falls Ch. 02



He looked stricken. "Did I really? I'm sorry, Rain. I didn't mean it. I won't do it again."

He looked so upset, hurt. I'd never seen him like that before and it pulled at something inside me. "Come here, Eric."

He climbed across the bed, still half dressed. I opened my arms and he slid into them. "I'm not bothered by it. It's a word. Don't worry about it, Ok? I don't want you thinking about what's coming out of your mouth when you're having sex with me. I don't want you thinking at all. I just want you feeling. Alright?"

"Yeah. Ok." He nuzzled my neck and then kissed me before wrangling off the rest of his clothes and manhandling my body into a sleeping position that he was comfortable with. Which turned out to be, strangely enough, spooning at an angle across the bed, corner to corner.

It took me a few seconds to realize why we were at an angle. "How tall are you, anyway?" I asked.

"Six-eight." He yawned and nuzzled the back of my neck.

"I guessed six-six," I told him.

"Humph," he mumbled against my skin. He sucked the skin under his lips into his mouth and I tried not to tense up, wondering if he was going to bite me again. He didn't. He just sucked lightly for a second and then let go. It wasn't even hard enough to leave a hickey. He pulled me tighter to his chest and I listened to his breathing deepen as he drifted off. I was awake for a long time, just feeling him breathing into my hair, before I finally fell asleep.

I jolted awake with the nagging feeling that I had forgotten something. I had no idea how long I had slept. It could have been five minutes for all I knew but I didn't think so because I was hot. Like I was inside a furnace type of hot. Technically, that's what I was. We were in exactly the same position and the furnace in question was Eric. He was still asleep but he had me, possessively, tucked into his body with one arm draped around my midsection and his knees bent, cradling my legs with his. I twisted my body in a futile attempt to put some distance between us but he held tight. I fidgeted enough to wake the bear. 

"Stop squirming," he grumbled.

"What time is it?" I asked, trying to remember what I had forgotten.

"How the fuck should I know?" 

"You always know," I replied because it was true. There wasn't a single clock in his apartment but he always seemed to know what time it was.

"Two. Go back to sleep," he mumbled.

"Two?" I tried to clear my head and breathe in the suffocating heat. "Fuck! It's Thursday! I have to go! My rent is due! Shit!"

He just gripped me tighter.

"Come on, Eric. Let me go. I have to get home before the manager leaves."

"You keep wiggling your ass like that I'm going to shove my cock it in," he threatened.

I stopped trying to get away. I knew damn good and well that he wasn't joking. "Please, Eric. I'll get evicted."

He growled low and deep. Any wild animal with half a brain cell would have taken it for the warning that it was and fled for safety. I went the other way. "Come on you overgrown lummox. Let me up. I have to pay my rent."

"Fuck!" he spat out and rolled onto his back, freeing me.

I jumped up and climbed over him to get off the bed. After I used the bathroom I came back out to find him in exactly the same position.

"You're a real pain in my ass, you know that?"

I snickered. "I'm pretty sure that I'm the one walking funny today."

He cracked one eye open and looked at me standing at the edge of the bed wearing nothing but a smirk. He opened the other eye. "You're fucking beautiful," he told me. Then he lurched up, grabbed me by the waist and yanked me back into the bed.

"Eric!" I yelped. "I don't have time to play. I have to go."

"I'll drive you," he offered, sniffing and nuzzling my neck.

"Thank you." I had counted on it but I thanked him anyway. If I had to walk I wouldn't make it before my manager left for the day. He didn't keep regular hours but he'd never once stayed past four. Most of the time he left before three. I squirmed out if his arms and he let me, most likely because he had to piss. I dashed down the stairwell while he was occupied in the bathroom. I slipped into my clothes that had been left on the floor when we went to bed. At least, some of my clothes. My shirt was ripped, straight up the back, from hem to collar. It was totaled. Vy could have fixed it if it had been on a seam or something small but I doubted there was anything salvageable. 

Eric came down the stairs in a pair of black jeans. He was shirtless and the sight of his lean, muscled torso made my body twitch. He was carrying two t-shirts. He tossed one at me when he stepped off the stairwell and slipped the solid black one over his head. 

"Thanks." I pulled the shirt over my head and looked down at it. It was a concert shirt for This Mortal Coil and it wasn't a bad fit, which meant it wasn't his. When I looked up he was headed for the kitchen. "Hey. I really need to go," I reminded him, gently.

"Coffee. Smoke," he grumbled.

"Please, Eric. I don't have time."

He turned and glared at me. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

"You can smoke in the car," I suggested.

"I don't smoke in my car. It ruins the leather."

"Please," I begged, just short of whining. I learned the hard way to never whine around Eric. It flipped his psycho switch.

"Fuck." He gathered up his keys and grabbed the handle on the door, sliding it open. We didn't speak until we pulled into the parking lot at my apartment building. He was bitchy and it was best to just let him be. I loved his car. It was a sedan that was a couple of years old but it was in perfect condition. There wasn't a scratch outside or a speck of dirt inside. It was, of course, solid black outside with black leather interior. It was like an oven during the summer but it had amazing AC. "How much do you need?" he asked when he'd stopped the car.

I shook my head. "I got it."

He looked up at me and his eyes dropped into that bored look that made my blood cold when it was focused on me. "Did you work last night?" His voice was soft, dangerous.

"Yes." I knew he wasn't going to like the answer but I wasn't going to lie to him. If he wanted to be with me he had to accept what I did for a living. The truth was that I could have paid the rent without working. I had gained a foothold the first night that I worked at the hotel and I had been working steadily for the three weeks since my bites had healed. I had a lot of money saved. It was only about $2000.00 but it was a fortune to me. I wasn't naïve enough to think it would last if I quit working. Vy and I would go through it in two months.

"That guy I saw you with?"

"No. It was before that."

"Did you..." He hesitated. I'd never known him to be at a loss for words. He, admittedly, wasn't one to talk about his feelings and such but he was eloquent in casual conversation. He was more upset than I thought he would be. "Was someone else inside you last night?"

"Just my mouth."

He was silent while he processed that. "I don't want you working anymore."

That wasn't acceptable to me but I didn't have time to get into it. "Can we fight about this later?" I asked. "I have to get in there."

"There's not going to be a fight. It just is," he stated. "I'll take care of you."

"I really have to go." I leaned over and kissed him. "I'll see you later."

"Yeah. Fine. I have to work, anyway," he groused. "Starlight. Nine o'clock," he demanded.

"Ok. I'll see you there."

"Where the fuck you been, kid? I've been waiting on you," the manager bitched. He wasn't a nice guy but he wasn't abusive either. I'd had worse. He was heavyset, balding, and in his upper forties or early fifties. He was Hispanic and his name was Oscar. I didn't know his last name.

"I was out," I told him. "I've got the money for seven and eight."

He shook his head. "Don't need it for eight. Parent's came and cleaned it out this morning. You got a lock on your door and I want the fucking key, now."

I was reeling from the first part of what he'd said. I didn't register the second part at all. "Cleaned it out? What do you mean? Where's Vy?"

"Who?"

"Vanessa. The girl who lives in eight," I clarified.

"Her," he huffed. "Pimp showed up last night and beat the fuck out of her. Had cops and shit swarming the place. I don't need that shit here." He held out his hand.

I counted out my rent for the week and handed it to him but he kept his hand out. "You deaf or some shit, kid? Gimme the fucking key."

"Key?" I asked.

"To the deadbolt on your door. Fuck. Are you high? I fucking said this already."

"Oh. Sorry. Yeah." I fished my keys out of my pocket and unwound the spare deadbolt key from the ring. "Is she ok?" I asked.

He shrugged and pocketed the key. "They took her to Parkland." He looked at me while I just stood there. "You got something to hide that needs a deadbolt I don't want it here. Get rid of it."

I shook my head. "Pillows." 

"Pillows? What the fuck is that?"

"Pillows. You know. For sleeping on," I explained.

"Fucking pillows need a deadbolt?"

"Do you know how expensive pillows are?"

He glared at me. He, obviously, wasn't buying it. "Get the fuck out of here. Don't get busted with your fucking pillows or you're out. Got it?"

I went directly to Vy's door. I had a key but I didn't need it. The frame was broken. It had been kicked in. I pushed the door open and the place was trashed. All of the personal items seemed to be gone but the bed and dresser were still there. The dresser had been a cheap particleboard thing that was now broken and smeared with dried blood. There was also a good sized bloodstain on the floor. I gathered up the things that had been left behind that were serviceable to me. It wasn't much, the kitchen utensils, a couple of pans, and a bath towel. I also checked her hidey holes for her stash. Most of it was gone but I did find some pot behind the faceplate of the hollow brass doorknob on the bathroom door. 

It may seem opportunistic of me but I knew that she wasn't coming back. If I didn't take the stuff one of the other vultures in the building would have. Vy would have preferred it was me. I stripped down and crawled into my bed. I missed her and I hoped that she and the baby were ok but there wasn't much I could do. I didn't even know her last name. I stayed in bed and smoked a joint, thinking about how little I actually knew about the people that I claimed to care about. I had known Vinyl since the day I moved in, over a year before, and I had never learned her last name. I knew Eric's last name but only because it was on all his finished work. He'd never asked mine. The only person that I could remember telling mine to was that guy, Dylan, and I had never gotten his in return. 

The pot was good and I was pretty fucked up before I'd smoked half the joint. I put it out and went to take a shower. I needed to clean and dress my wounds and, luckily, Eric had only bitten me in places that I could reach this time.



Rain Falls Ch. 03



I slept most of the afternoon but not well. I kept having dreams about being chased by wild animals and torn asunder. It had been a reoccurring theme in my nightmares as long as I could remember. I dressed for play as opposed to work. I was supposed to be meeting Eric and, based on our earlier conversation, he wasn't going to let me work. I left the house at seven. It would take me less than two hours to walk downtown but I needed to eat. I took my time and poked around but still made it to the café by nine.

It was dead but it was early on a weeknight. I got a cup of coffee and waited. I was still upset about Vy but I hadn't been able to come up with anything that I could do about it. I felt guilty. I had broken my own rule about sleeping with people and Vy had gotten hurt. I should have been home. I didn't know if I could have protected her or not. Her boyfriend, Michael, was a big guy and he was mean as shit but I could have tried. There hadn't been enough blood in the apartment for me to automatically assume that she was dead so I was hoping that meant that she and the baby were both fine. I was also kind of hoping that the blood was Michael's.

My breath caught in my throat when Eric walked in. He was always imposing but he was also hot as fuck. He garnered a lot of attention and most of it was from people that wanted him. I couldn't suppress the secret little smile that I got knowing that he was mine. He was back in his leather pants and boots but he'd changed shirts and added a belt. The belt was a wide, black leather, bondage belt that rode low on his hips. His belt had a single chain that draped around his body like garland and four O-rings. The rings weren't situated on his sides, back and front. They weren't intended to secure him. They rested slightly at the front and the back of his hips. They were intended to secure something, or someone, to him. In fact, as he walked by me toward the counter, completely ignoring my presence, I noticed that he had short cane hooked to his belt. A frisson of desire, mixed with not a little fear, crept up my spine. He'd warned me that there would be no argument this night and he'd meant it.

He continued to ignore me after he got his coffee and he mounted the stairs. I watched him leisurely stroll up the stairs from my place at the table waiting for a word, a sign, something. I got nothing. I lost sight of him when he reached the balcony. I waited to see if he was coming back but he didn't. I got up and followed him. By the time I made it to the roof he was seated at a table with four people that I didn't know. They were Ellum rats but I didn't know any of their names. 

"Took you long enough," he said to me and the conversation amongst the group stopped. They were all staring at me. "Sit," he commanded. I moved toward the empty chair and he stopped me. "Not there." He glanced at the floor beside his chair. "There."

I knelt on the floor beside his chair, not unaccustomed to his domineering side. He reached across the table and picked up the leather dog collar that I hadn't noticed was sitting there. Four other sets of eyes watched silently as he had me hold my hair while he fastened the collar around my neck. He adjusted it so the D-ring rested on my throat and then attached a chain to it. He hooked the other end of the chain to his belt and then patted me on the head like a good dog. He then casually lit a cigarette and proceeded to ignore me again. The rest of the table followed suit. It speaks volumes about the type of people that we hung out with. It was no big deal to them that he'd just taken my independence from me. The one thing that I prized above all else meant less than nothing to them. Maybe it was a joke to them but it wasn't to me and I knew that it wasn't to him. I wanted to be loved and cherished. I wanted to belong to him but I wanted it to be reciprocated too. I wanted it to be a partnership. In all the time that I had known him he'd never treated me like I was a thing to him. I had always been a person. I knelt there, ignored, trying to decide if he was just role playing or if this was the way it was going to be. 

I was proud that he had claimed me in front of everyone. I was thrilled that he was making a statement about us being together. I just wasn't happy about what he was saying. I was awash in a myriad of conflicting emotions. I was humiliated and embarrassed. I was scared and nervous too. But I was also turned on. He was ignoring me but he would frequently reach down and touch the chain linking us together, as if he was comforting himself with its presence. I probably should have been running for the hills but I did nothing. I had lost my best friend, my only real friend, and he was the next closest thing to a friend that I had. As sorry as that sounds, it was true. I didn't get close to people. I had associates, I knew a lot of people by sight or first name, or whatever they called themselves, but I didn't, really, know anyone. And no one, really, knew me. 

As lost as I was in my own thoughts, I knew, instantly, when he made to stand. The chain guaranteed that. It wasn't short, it was probably six feet long, but it was a tether that effectively transmitted his every movement to me. I stood when he did. I had no idea how long we had been sitting there but my knees ached from the hard surface and the rooftop had become crowded. He didn't speak to me as we walked down the stairs, me following closely behind him. I had a flash of fear at the realization that if he somehow tripped down the stairs, he would break my neck. It gave me the desire to reach out and grab ahold of him. I didn't.

We left the café and crossed the street. He didn't tell me where we were going and I didn't ask. I just followed along like a good dog. We went into a clothing and accessory shop where my obvious status went unremarked. It didn't surprise me as there was a mannequin on display dressed in nothing but draping chains. He made a couple of purchases and we walked up the street. I ducked my head in shame as we passed 2826. I had customers that frequented the club and there was never any telling who would be outside. He led me one block over and we went inside a candle and herb shop. He bought some things and added the package to the bag that I was already carrying. We went another block over and all the way down the street. A spike of fear went through me as he entered Tigger's Tattoos. He looked over the flash on the walls and the jewelry in the case but he didn't make any arrangements to have anything done to either of us. I wondered if I would have stopped him if he had tried to have me pierced or tattooed. 

We walked the streets for some time. It wasn't as crowded as it would have been on a weekend but it wasn't dead either. I got the feeling that he was putting me on display. I couldn't decide if I was pissed about it or honored. It was probably a combination of both. We made it to the back street on which his car was parked and he took off his belt and handed it to me. He wasn't releasing me. He just didn't want the metal to tear his leather seats. 

"Where are we going?" I spoke for the first time that night.

"Lobos," he replied.

I was familiar with the store. It was a shop, not too far from my place, that catered to the sexual exploits of gay men. We spent the short drive in silence. When we got there, he took the belt from me and put it back on before we entered the shop.

"How can I help you?" the attendant asked as we stepped inside. 

"I'm looking for a cock ring," Eric replied.

"What kind?" 

"What have you got?"

"Oh just tons of options," the guy effused.

We followed the clerk to the back wall of the store where there were plastic bins filled with the aforementioned tons of options. I tuned them out as they were talking. I wasn't worried about a cock ring. It wasn't permanent and it could be fun. I was looking around the store, a wide leather paddle on the wall had caught my attention. It had large holes running up the sides that I could image would leave some nasty blood blisters. 

Suddenly, their conversation registered in my head. 

"It will have to be fitted unless you already know what size he needs," the clerk said.

"It's not for him. It's for me. I want him to come for me. As long, as hard, and as often as possible," Eric explained.

Holy fuck. He was trying to delay his own orgasm. He was going to kill me. I spun around to see him holding a solid ring of steel in his hands. It was too big to be the kind that just fit around the shaft. It was the kind that went under the sac and over the top of the penis. 

"What size do you need?" the clerk asked with a smirk at the expression of horror on my face.

"I have no idea." Eric held up the ring. "Bigger than this."

"Lovely," the clerk replied, giving Eric a lusty once-over. 

My hackles went up. I stepped closer to Eric in a vain attempt to stake my claim. I possessively hooked my finger through an O-ring on his belt and tugged slightly. Eric glanced at me with a grin and then turned his attention back to the clerk.

"So how do we find out the size I need?" Eric asked.

"We take a measurement," the clerk smiled. "I would be happy to do that for you."

I whimpered. Honest to God. I actually whimpered. 

Eric's soft chuckle soothed me but his words soothed me more. "I think we can handle that. Just tell me what we need and I can get that information for you."

"That's too bad," the clerk sighed and then explained the proper way to get the right fit. We left the store without the item we had come for. They didn't have one that would fit but they could order it, and they did. I wasn't at all happy that Eric had given the clerk his name and phone number. I knew, logically, that he'd had to in order to place the order. That didn't make me feel better.

Eric watched me with a smirk as he stripped off his belt in the parking lot. "Calm down, pet. Your place is secure."

He handed me the belt and threaded his fingers into the hair at the nape of my neck. His palm rested on the back of the strip of leather around my throat. He pulled me forward and bent his head to kiss me. I was shocked that he would kiss me in public. Kissing me on the rooftop at the Starlight was one thing, not that he'd ever done it, kissing me on a busy metropolitan street was quite another. It was somewhere around midnight, I knew that because the shop closed at midnight, but that area of the city never got deserted. I thought it would just be a quick brush of the lips but it wasn't. His tongue caressed my lips until I parted them for him. He plundered my mouth, tasting me, claiming me yet again. 

I moaned into his mouth and he broke away from me, leaving me breathless and hungry for more. "You make me crazy," he murmured, brushing his thumb across my bottom lip. His eyes darted from my lips to my eyes and back again. "Fuck," he breathed and captured my lips again. 

He was gentle with me for the first time ever and I got lost in the sensuality of his kiss. His tongue played with mine in a slow waltz of a dance. His fingers alternately clutched and released my hair, never tugging, never pulling. He was making love to me with his mouth and I was a sucker for it. He caressed the back of my arm with his other hand then grazed his palm down and entwined his fingers with mine. He held my hand for a moment then dropped it and slid his hand around my waist, pulling my body flush with his. I could feel his cock getting harder, larger, as he pressed his groin into my abdomen. 

"Fucking faggots!" some asshole yelled, breaking the spell and proving my point about not kissing in public.

Eric tore his body away from mine with a ferocious growl and whipped around to confront the man.

"Fuck off!" a softer voice shouted. Eric and I both turned toward the new voice to see the clerk from the store walking to his car. "Ignore the ignorant Neanderthal," he told us. "I think it's beautiful." He smiled at us and got in his car. 

After both of the opposing viewpoints had left in their cars, Eric turned back to me. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" I asked.

"That." He waved in the direction of the departed asshole.

"That wasn't your fault." I smiled at him. "And I loved the kiss."

He smiled back at me. "I was enjoying it, myself."

"I could tell." I leered at him.

"Hmm." He wiggled his perfectly arched eyebrows at me. "Are you hungry? You must be. Let's go get some food."

He took me to Denny's. The second that we walked in the door they made him unhook the chain, which he wasn't happy about. I wasn't very happy about it either. I was getting used to it. He unhooked it from the D-ring in my collar and looped it back on his belt as we walked toward the back room without being escorted by the hostess. There was already a group of people back there and, this time, I knew them.

He slid into a booth that was already occupied by three people, not caring if his belt ripped the pleather of the seat. I hesitated, not knowing where he wanted me. He glanced up and furrowed his brow.

"You're right," he said to me even though I had not voiced my concern. "This won't work."

He slid out of the booth and lugged a chair to the end of the table. He sat in the chair and pulled me into his lap, situating me sideways across his lap. He wrapped one arm around my back with his hand resting on my hip, then proceeded to engage in an established conversation, ignoring me again. I actually didn't care so much. I draped my arm around his neck and rested my head on his shoulder. I was content to just be held.

Our obvious involvement was hardly commented on. Relationships came and went on a regular basis in that group. The fact that we were both male was a non-issue. It was a bunch of misfits that banded together. Gay, straight, bi, or other, was less important than where the latest game was being held, which bands were playing where, and who got evicted or arrested. The only thing about our display that attracted attention was the advertised dynamic. None of them had ever known me to get involved with anyone and, the collar and our position, with me on his lap, seemed to answer questions that no one had ever been brave or nosey enough to ask.

I let Eric order for us both. He ordered far more food than was necessary because he knew that the others would bum from our plates. It was the way it worked. If one person had money on any given night they would share food. Eric always had money but I don't know how many of the regulars knew that. He didn't often invite people to his place and he wasn't ostentatious. He drove a really nice car but it wasn't showy. He didn't like to talk about himself and he didn't encourage questions. It brought back the question of how much any of us knew about each other.

When the food came Eric fed me chicken strips and mozzarella sticks and French fries, anything he could feed me with his fingers, all dipped in ranch dressing. He ate the same things but he dipped his in either ketchup or barbeque sauce. I found a great deal of humor in the subliminal messaging of our food choices but kept the thought to myself.

Unlike at Starlight, I wasn't silent. Eric didn't talk to me much but other people did. Because there were people on both sides of me, I shifted frequently to be able to look at the person that I was talking to. Every so often Eric would dig his fingers into my hip, stopping me from wiggling. It took a couple of times before I figured out why he was doing it. Once I realized what was happening, it did it more. It didn't take him long to figure out that I was doing it intentionally. 

"I will fuck you on this table, Rain," he growled directly into my ear. I was pretty sure that he was bluffing. Almost positive. I wasn't confident enough to keep doing it though. He wasn't shy. He had no problem, as he'd proven that night, putting himself, me, or our relationship on display. He simply didn't care what anyone else thought. He didn't hide who or what he was from anyone. It was daunting for someone like me. I had spent my whole life running or hiding. I learned to keep quiet and stay back to protect myself. He was like a predatory beast, king of the jungle, top of the food chain. He had no fear and no reservations. I was more like a rabbit, adorable and loveable but known worldwide as tasty prey for any and all. I wasn't a pussy and I wasn't feminine and pampered. I would fight if absolutely necessary. I just preferred to avoid it if I could. It seemed more important to me to use my strength to try to stay alive. But then, I was barely taller than average and significantly thinner. Eric, on the other hand, at his height and build, with the right scowl on his face, was most people's nightmare come to life. Only the very brave or very stupid would take him on.

We didn't stay long after we'd eaten. We went back to his place and he was on me before he'd even gotten the door closed.

"Wait," I said. He didn't stop pawing at me and trying to take off my clothes. "Wait," I said louder to no avail. "Eric! Stop!"

"What's wrong, Baby?" He was panting and rock hard.

"We can't," I told him. "I can't."

His eyes narrowed. "Why not?"

"Because you tore me up last night," I informed him. "Have you ever heard of lube? You're big. You can't expect me to be able to take you dry without consequences. If you try to stick that monster in me right now you're not going to be able to touch me again for a week, maybe more."

He just stared at me like I was speaking some foreign language. Then he huffed and grabbed my hand. "Come on." He dragged me back out the door and we got in the car.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"Lube," he said. "Why didn't you say something earlier?"

I shrugged. I didn't bother to point out that having lube now wouldn't fix the damage already done.

We walked into the porn shop and the guy at the counter greeted me by name. "Hey, Rain." 

"Hey, John." He was ringing someone else up so I didn't stop to talk. I looked up to see Eric giving me an odd look. 

"John?" he mouthed and squinted at me.

I shook my head and pointed at my left pectoral where a nametag would be. Eric looked at John's nametag and smirked. I led Eric to the shelf where the lubricants were and did my very best impersonation of Vanna White. 

"What do you like?" he asked, glancing at the options. 

"Ahh." I laid my index finger alongside my mouth. "Let's see. There's numbing, sensitizing, ultra-slick, flavored, petroleum based, water soluble, and many others."

He smirked at me. "Numbing?"

"That would be good for me but bad for you," I told him.

"Why?" he asked, picking up a bottle.

"Because you're already not as sensitive as most guys. That's going to make you feel even less."

He looked up at me. "I'm not?"

I shook my head. 

"How do you know?"

I arched my eyebrow at him and smirked.

He rolled his eyes. "I mean, how do you know what I'm feeling?"

"I don't. I just know how you're reacting. I'm basing my judgments on that."

"So this would make it harder for me to get off?" he asked.

I sure as fuck didn't want that. "It would make it not feel as good, Eric."

He humphed and set the bottle down. "So what do you like?" he asked again.

"You know, I'm surprised that you're not the foremost expert on this stuff with that huge cock of yours," I teased. 

"You're the only guy that I've ever had sex with, Rain." He'd said it so quietly that I wasn't sure that I hadn't mistaken what he'd said.

"Are you serious?" I gaped.

"Yeah. I messed around with a few but nobody ever wanted to try to take me."

"Why did you have lube before? You've never taken me dry before last night."

He shrugged. "You asked for it the first time we had sex. I use it for work sometimes. I use it to jack off too. Sometimes it's required with girls. They dry up before I get anywhere near ready. It's not like that with you. I feel like I'm a chronic quickie every time I'm with you."




Rain Falls Ch. 03



"Quickie?" I squeaked. "Jesus, Eric. Is that what the cock ring was about?"

"Yeah," he admitted. "I want to make it good for you. I want to be able to last."

"Holy fuck, Eric," I groaned. "If it was any longer or any better for me I'd die." I grabbed a bottle of the stuff that supposed to add sensation and a bottle of the ultra-slick, hoping that it would provide a barrier between my skin and the heating action of the one I was going to use on him. I took his hand and led him to the counter. "Hey, John," I said, putting the bottles on the counter.

"Hey, Rain." He glanced at Eric. "How's stuff?"

"Good. This is my boyfriend. Is he not the most gorgeous hunk of man that you've ever seen?" I smirked at Eric who was looking at me with one eye squinted.

"He looks dangerous," he smirked. John was cool. He was totally straight but he flirted with nearly every person that walked in the door regardless of gender, race, or age. 

"I know." I grinned at him. "Sexy as all get out."

"Is this some sort of payback?" Eric asked.

"Yes." I smiled sweetly. "Pay the man."

Eric chuckled and paid for the lube.

"Speaking of dangerous boyfriends... That shit about Vy is crazy, right?" John said.

"What'd you hear?" I asked.

"That Michael beat the fuck out of her and she lost the baby," John said.

"She lost the baby?" The news hit me like a blow to the stomach.

"You didn't know?" John asked.

I shook my head. "She was gone when I got home. Who'd you hear it from?"

"Becca," John told me. "She said Vy was going to live with her aunt in Florida... No Georgia. Yeah. Georgia. You should talk to Becca. She knows."

"Thanks." I grabbed the bag off the counter and left the store with Eric following me for a change.

"Who's Vy?" Eric asked when we got in the car.

"My best friend. She was my next door neighbor."

"I'm sorry," Eric said. "When did all this happen?"

"Last night," I told him. "I should have been home. I can't believe that I let her down like that. I should have been there for her."

"I'm sorry," he said. "That's my fault."

"No," I replied. "It's that fuckhead Michael's fault." There was so much venom in my voice and hatred in my blood that I hardly recognized myself. "I hope he gets gang raped and beaten half to death every day in prison."

Eric was silent. It was a side of me that he had never seen. It was a side of me that I had never even seen.

"FUCK!" I screamed. I felt so fucking useless.

"I'm sorry, Baby." Eric gently took my hand and laced his fingers through mine. "I know it doesn't help. Is there anything that I can do?"

"No," I sighed. "I'm just... Do you have any pot?"

"No," he replied. "I don't smoke weed. I can get some though." 

"Nah. It's fine. If I had it I'd just smoke it," I said.

Eric chuckled. "Isn't that like saying 'If I had food I'd eat it.'? Isn't that what it's for?"

I snickered. "Yeah. Sort of. What I mean is that it's a habit that I can't afford to develop. Like drinking or smoking... or eating."

Eric laughed. "I see that. You could stand to eat a little more."

"Are you trying to fatten me up?" I teased.

"Maybe."

"Don't do that. I can't afford to buy all new clothes," I retorted, half serious.

"You need to just move in with me," he offered. "Then you can get as fat as you want and you don't need clothes." 

"You gonna keep me well fed and naked?" I laughed.

"Well fucked and naked," he corrected.

When we got back to his place the mood was still somber. I looked around the large open space that made up the bottom floor of the warehouse apartment. Nothing had moved from the day before. All of the dismembered mannequins were in exactly the same spot. 

"I thought you were working today," I said.

"I was."

"It doesn't look like you made any progress."

"I'm doing a mural over at European Crossroads," he told me, glancing over his unfinished pieces. "I haven't worked on this for a while."

"What is this going to be?" I asked.

He shrugged. "I lost the muse."

"I'm sorry. Does that happen a lot?"

"Sometimes," he admitted. "When I get interrupted. Usually I can go back to it but I'm just not in the same place that I was."

"What does a dead mannequin cost you? Just out of curiosity." I smirked.

He grinned. "Depends on the quality. These were about a hundred bucks."

"Wow. Pretty steep for a doll."

"Especially since I'm just going to cut them up," he smirked. "I have to though. They're always in this completely unnatural pose." He bent his arms and legs, twisted his torso and tilted his head, imitating the pose of a store mannequin perfectly. I snickered and he dropped the pose. "Even if I want it whole I have to take it apart and put it back together to make it more realistic." He grinned at me. "You should try it. No one would really stand like that."

I tried to imitate his pose and he walked over and adjusted me into position. "A real dead body would cost you less."

"A real dead body would cost me twenty years." He stepped back and looked at me then stepped forward and moved my arm and head. "Besides, they make a huge mess when you cut them up and they eventually start to stink." 

"Good point." I snickered

He stepped back and smirked. "There. Like that."

I dropped the pose. "You're right. It's uncomfortable."

"You did good though. Try shocked."

I planted my feet, spread my fingers out and opened my mouth and eyes wide. He laughed.

"That's great. Try excited."

I jumped and slapped my hand over my mouth.

He laughed again. "Now do scared."

I took off running up the stairs, ducking behind the curtain still drawn across the loft. I could hear him laughing. "Come back!" he shouted.

I peeked out the curtain. "No." Then dropped the curtain and stripped.

"Come on, pussy. I don't bite," he called.

"Liar!" I called back.

"You like it," he retorted. "Come back down here."

I pushed the curtain aside and stood at the top of the stairs wearing nothing but the collar around my neck. "No."

"Wow." He was standing at the bottom of the stairwell looking up at me. "That was fast."

I shrugged. "It's a gift."

He slowly climbed the stairs, stopping one step below me. With our difference in heights, it put his chin at my forehead. He hooked his finger through the ring at my throat and tilted my head back. I expected him to kiss me when he lowered his lips to mine but he didn't. "No sex?" he breathed against my lips.

"No anal," I agreed. "You'll hurt me bad. But we can still play."

"I'm not in the mood for blood tonight, Rain. Will you be disappointed?"

"Not at all," I promised him. "What are you in the mood for?"

"This," he replied and kissed me. He was as gentle as he had been in the parking lot, if not more so. He carefully urged me backwards, never breaking the kiss, until my legs bumped into the edge of the bed. 

"Up," he husked.

"I'm up," I smirked, looking down between our bodies.

"Yeah you are," he grinned and wrapped his long fingers around my shaft, making me moan as he slowly stroked me.

He watched my face while he slid his hand up and down my length. I had a hard time keeping my eyes open. It had been a long time since anyone other than me had touched my cock and it felt incredible. 

"So beautiful," he murmured. He let go of me and I groaned. "Get on the bed."

I scrambled to comply and leaned back on my elbows to watch him strip. He crawled across the bed and sat between my knees. 

"Touch yourself," he commanded. "Show me what you like."

"I like you touching me," I told him.

"Show me how."

I gripped my turgid cock and watched him watch me pleasure myself. His lust-filled eyes were scanning me up and down, never resting on anything. 

"Touch me," I moaned. "Please."

The heat from his hand skimming up my thigh made my eyes roll back in my head.

"Don't come," he husked. "I want to make you come."

My cock wept at his words. "Yes."

"You don't finger yourself?" he asked.

I shook my head.

"Why not? You come when I'm fucking you."

"You make me," I breathed.

He tilted his head slightly in confusion. "You don't do that with other guys?"

I shook my head again. "Almost never."

He stretched his body over mine and kissed me passionately, his long hair draped around us like a curtain. He pulled up and flipped his head, tossing his hair all to one side before moving his mouth down to my neck. I arched my neck, baring my throat for him. 

"This is so fucking hot on you but it's in the way." He traced his fingers over the leather strap around my neck. He rested his fingertips on the buckle for a second before he unfastened it. It made a loud thunk as it hit the wooden floor. With a predatory gleam in his eyes, he lowered his mouth back to my neck. He said he didn't want my blood so I trusted him not to tear my throat out. He kissed and licked his way down but I didn't feel his teeth. I felt his teeth when he got down to my nipples but there was no pain, just a sharper edge to the pleasure.

"You're going to make me come," I panted.

He released the small nub from his teeth and passed his tongue over it to soothe it before continuing down my body. "Stop," he told me. "It's my turn."

I reluctantly let go of my cock with a groan. "I need to come." 

"You will," he promised, kissing my belly. "In my mouth."

I nearly came right then. Just from hearing him say it. "Oh God. Yes. Please."

He scooted his body down a little further. His hair tickled my side as it trailed along some distance behind his head. My belly was drenched from all the pre-cum that was pouring out of me. He dipped the tip of his tongue in the mess that I was making and slowly lapped it up. If I'd still had any ability to think I could have told him how pointless it was. As long as he kept licking me I was going to keep leaking.

He gripped the base of my shaft and tentatively licked my head before he swallowed me down. It was the first time he'd ever had me in his mouth and it was the shortest blow job in the history of mankind. I didn't last two seconds with the moist heat of his mouth enveloping me. I didn't even have time to warn him. He wrapped his gorgeous lips around my cock and my spine locked up as I shot in his mouth. He sucked and swallowed my load and then used his tongue to get any remnants off me before sliding back up my body. 

I hid my face in the crook of my elbow in embarrassment. "I'm sorry," I mumbled.

He chuckled. "I must be better at that than I thought."

I groaned. "I'm sure that you're fantastic. I'd love to find out some time."

He chuckled again. "That was pretty quick."

"Oh Jesus," I groaned. "Stop."

"Don't stress. I take it as a compliment," he said. "Stop hiding your beautiful face." He pushed at my arm and I moved it and looked at him. He had a smug grin on his face.

"It's just..." I tried to explain. "It's been a long time."

"How long?" he asked.

"I can't remember the last time kind of long."

"Like a month?" he prodded.

"Like, not in the time that I've known you."

He squinted at me. "That can't be true. I've known you for a year or so."

I didn't respond.

"A year!" he exclaimed. "Why?"

"Because I don't sleep around," I explained.

He barked a dry half-laugh.

"Seriously, Eric," I said. "I don't. Work is different. Nobody wants to pay me to let them suck my dick."

"I would pay to suck this," he responded, grabbing the appendage he was referring to.

"You never have," I pointed out.

He humphed. "I guess I haven't." He let go of my mostly flaccid penis and his hand drifted down lower. "I've had my mouth here," he said, caressing my sac then moving his hand between my legs. I spread them for him instinctually. "And here," he husked, grazing his fingertips across my still tender pucker. My breath hitched as he applied pressure. He watched my face as he rubbed small circles around my fuckhole. "You want it, don't you?"

"Yes," I hissed and rocked my hips up, seeking penetration.

He pulled his hand back, denying me. "Not tonight." 

I groaned. "Don't stop. I'll be good."

"No," he replied. "I'm not done playing. Roll over."

I turned onto my stomach and he got back between my legs, leaning over my body. I could feel his hair brushing over my face and arms. His fingertips skipped up my spine and stopped on top of the bites on my shoulder.

"This looks bad," he told me.

"It always does," I grumbled. "See what I mean about being a chew toy?"

"Don't move," he ordered and I felt the bed dip as he crawled off it. He went down the stairs and then came back up almost instantly. He climbed back on the bed and straddled my waist. I felt the cold gel of ointment then the warmth of his fingers as he rubbed it in.

"What is that?" I asked.

"Neosporin." He climbed back off the bed and went into the bathroom I could hear him washing his hands before he came back. "Remind me and I'll put some on tomorrow too."

"Thank you."

"Now," he said. "Where was I? Oh yes." I felt his lips brush against the back of my neck and cross my shoulders. He kissed and licked and nibbled his way across and down my back, careful to avoid the bite marks. He made his way down to my butt and kissed both cheeks before spreading them with his hands. I felt his hot breath and then his soft lips against my hole and I raised my hips.

He pulled back and chuckled then playfully smacked my ass. "You're not being good."

"I was helping," I argued.

"Yeah. Helping to try to get me to stick my cock in you."

"Eric," I groaned.

"I have so much to make up for."

"No you don't."

"Yes I do," he stated. "I've treated you like..."

"A hooker?" I supplied.

He was quiet for a minute but I could still feel the warmth of his breath across my butt cheek. "I don't get in these moods often," he said quietly. "Just let me be sweet to you."

I raised up on my elbows and looked back to check his positioning before I turned over. He was hunched over between my legs, almost like a frog. It reminded me of the position they made us assume in elementary school during tornado drills. I flipped over, careful not to kick him.

"Eric." I sat up and held my hands out to him. He crawled into my arms just like he had the night before. "You didn't do anything to me that I didn't let you do or encourage you to do."

He flopped down on his back, pulling me down with him, on top of him. "I feel like I did."

"You didn't," I assured him. "If you want to be sweet to me, I'm all for it. Just don't do it because you feel obligated."

"I don't feel obligated, Rain."

"Then what do you feel?" I asked.

"Oh fuck." He rolled his eyes. "Seriously?"

"Yes," I insisted. "There's something going on with you and I just want to know what it is."

He sighed. "I told you that I'm no good at this."

"I know," I replied. "I'm taking that into consideration."

"Ok." He sighed again. "Here goes nothing." He took a deep breath. "I feel like everything that I thought I knew is suddenly all wrong and I don't know what anything is anymore."

"Unbalanced?" I offered.

"Yes."

"Lost and confused?"

"Not lost," he corrected. "I know where I am. Everything else has changed. The only thing that seems to make sense is you. It's why I haven't been working on my own stuff."

"Ok. Well I'm here. If you need to talk or anything, I'm here for you. Ok?"

"Yeah. Thanks," he smirked. "Are we done? Are you satisfied?"

"Sure," I grinned. "I wasn't trying to torture you or anything."

"Can we go back to what I was doing now?"

"Rimming me?" I smirked. "Absolutely."

"No," he chuckled. "If I do that I'm going to fuck you and you said no."

I pouted and then grinned. "So it's my turn now?" I asked hopefully.

He shook his head. "Still mine. I still want to suck you off."

"You did that already."

"No I didn't," he laughed and rolled us over so that he was on top of me. His hair fell into my face and I tried to blow it out of my mouth. He laughed again and brushed it off my face. He kissed his way down my body and took my half-hard cock in his mouth. It seemed like it never went completely soft when I was around him. 

"Wait," I moaned, feeling my dick harden in his mouth. "I want to suck you too."

He popped off me. "Sixty-nine?" he asked.

"Yeah. But I want to be on top. If you get excited and fuck my face you'll probably kill me."

He smirked. "I can control myself," he said but he crawled back up my body and rolled on to his back, winding his hair into a tight knot under the back of his head.

"I don't want you to control yourself," I told him, flipping around and placing my knees on either side of his head, careful to avoid any errant strands of his hair. "I want you to get so much pleasure out of my mouth being on you that you totally lose all semblance of control."

"That's what always happens with you," he admitted.

I was sitting back on my feet with his head between my thighs, just looking down at his face. When I didn't move he looked up, locking his gaze with mine. I traced his cheekbone with my fingertips. "How did I not see this before?" I asked. "I've wasted a year. Why didn't you ever say anything?"

"I thought you knew how I felt about you, Baby," he replied. "Why did you keep coming back if you didn't know?"

"Because I..." I didn't know how to answer him in a way that wouldn't destroy the mood. "Because you were special."

He smirked, which looked odd from my vantage point. "Short bus kind of special?"

"That too," I grinned. "No. The 'I want to be with him all the time' kind of special."

"Then you did know how I felt about you." His eyes narrowed when I still didn't move. "Less talking. More sucking." He nudged me. I smiled at him and leaned over his body to put my mouth to other, more pleasurable, uses.

I lasted a lot longer that time but not nearly as long as I wanted to and nowhere even in the same realm of as long as he did. He did lose control but it wasn't my oral skills that caused it, it was his own. As soon as I had come in his mouth for the second time that night, he forgot that he was trying to stay away from my ass. He started rimming me and tongue fucking me. It felt so fucking amazing that I didn't even notice how sore my jaw was. I was in a world of bliss when he slid his fingers inside me and found my sweet spot. I didn't pay enough attention to what I was doing. I wasn't as careful as I should have been when trying to stuff his fat cockhead down my throat. The third time I came in his mouth, we came together. With his fingers pounding away in my ass, he tripped, thrust his hips up hard, and shot his load straight down my throat.



Rain Falls Ch. 04



I slept like a rock. A very hot rock. Lava. Eric got out of bed before I did. The second he did, I tossed the covers off of me to try to cool my body down. It must have worked because the next thing that I knew he was waking me. 

"Wake up, Baby. I want to go out." 

I was on my stomach and he was hovering over me. It says a great deal about how thrashed I was to have slept through someone getting that close to me. I grew up on the streets. I was such a light sleeper that a ladybug sneezing would wake me up.

"Go out?" I mumbled into the pillow. Talking hurt. My throat felt like it had razor blades in it. I lowered my voice hoping it would help. "Thought you were working today." It didn't. It still burned to talk.

"I did." He punctuated the statement with a light nip on my uninjured shoulder. "Where did you think I was all day?" His lips blazed a path across my shoulder blade and he licked the center of my back. "Fuck you taste good."

Warning bells went off in my head. I didn't want to be bitten again. I tried to turn over within the tight confines of his arms and legs on either side of my body. I squirmed and struggled until I got on my back. He was looking at me with that predatory gleam again. He was fully dressed and his hair was braided in one long plait that hung over his shoulder and rested on the bed next to my head. "What time is it?" I whispered.

"Seven-ish."

"At night?" I squeaked, which felt like I'd swallowed a lit cigarette.

He cocked his head. "Have you been asleep the whole time I was gone?"

"Yes."

"Lazy ass," he smirked. "Get up. I want to go out," he repeated.

"No clothes here."

He rolled his eyes. "You need to just move in," he said. "We'll stop by your place on the way."

"On the way?" We would have to pass Deep Ellum to get to my place. "Where?"

"Kharma." 

Kharma Café was in Denton, next to the college campus, over an hour's drive north of where we were. "Why?"

"Piper's band is playing. I want to see them."

"Piper?"

"Blonde chick," he explained, ambiguously. "She was at Starlight last night."

Truthfully that didn't help at all. I couldn't remember a single person that had been there. I had been too embroiled in my own distress to pay attention.

"Get up. Take a shower with me," he ordered.

That made me laugh and the action made my eyes water. "Seen your shower. No room for two people."

"That's what will make it fun," he leered at me.

"How about I shower and you find food?" I suggested.

He sighed. "Spoil sport." He took my mouth roughly and I realized my jaw hurt too. At least I knew why my throat was hurting. I had been worried that I had strep. "What do you want to eat?" he asked when he broke off the kiss.

"Something soft," I requested. "My throat is killing me."

Concern settled across his features. "Your throat hurts?"

I nodded. 

"Why?"

I arched my eyebrow at him.

"Fuck," he hissed. "Did I hurt you?"

"I'll live." I gave him a quick kiss on the lips. "Food?"

"Something soft." He nodded and crawled off the bed.

The hot water felt like a wet dream. I opened my mouth and let the heat spray on my sore throat. I gargled the hot water and spit it out into the drain at my feet before repeating the maneuver. It helped. I had to commend Eric on his choice of bath products. Everything smelled great and I took advantage of the rare opportunity to use conditioner. He was in the bathroom holding open a soft towel when I stepped out of the shower stall. He wrapped me up in the enormous bathsheet and tenderly dried me off.

"I'm sorry that I hurt you," he murmured. "I was trying to be nice."

"You were wonderful." I smiled at him. "You're wonderful even when you're being all rawr too."

He smirked at me. "There's nothing soft here. I could cook but the best I can do as far as soft goes is pasta. We'll stop for food after we pick up some clothes for you. Then you can order whatever you want."

"You cook?" I was surprised. I didn't know that about him.

"Not gourmet or anything but I can work a stove." He followed me into the bedroom and stripped while I dressed. "Your ass hurts, your throat hurts. I'm tearing you up and I don't like it."

"My ass is fine," I told him. "My throat will be fine too. I just need to get used to your size. You've got a big dick, Eric," I said with a leer.

"Your ass is fine?" His eyes lusted over and his cock jumped. We'd switched statuses. I was mostly dressed and he was gloriously nude.

I nodded. "I'm pretty sure. We can test that theory later. If we start playing now you'll miss the band."

"Fuck it," he growled, pulling me into his arms. "I don't care."

I smirked. "Yes you do. Come on horndog. We can play later. Hopefully my throat will feel better by then too."

He groaned and rolled his eyes before letting go of me. "You're a prick tease."

I laughed at the irony and it fucking hurt. 

I was sitting on the edge of the bed holding my shirt and the collar when he came out of the bathroom in just a towel. "Do you need a shirt?" he asked.

I shook my head. 

He sat down next to me. "What's wrong?"

I shook my head again and held up the collar. "Do you want me to wear this?"

"Did you like it?" 

I shook my head. "Not at first but I got used to it."

He took the leather out of my hands and set it on the night stand. "Not tonight. It's Fry. Too much unknown element. I don't want to go to jail for killing someone tonight because they messed with you."

The fact that he was willing to protect me gave me a warm feeling. The fact that he thought he had to made me a little nauseated. 

"Will you wear it for me?" he asked. "Later, I mean. When we're alone."

"You liked that?" I grinned.

"Fuck yes," he replied. "The sight of you in just that collar... fucking hot."

As if to prove how much he liked it, the towel around his waist started to tent.

"Would you look at my shoulder?" I asked.

"Oh shit!" he exclaimed. "I forgot. Turn around."

He brought his bent knee up on the bed and turned sideways, facing me, with one foot on the floor. It caused his towel to part, exposing his semi to me. The site made my mouth water and my ass twitch. My body didn't know which it wanted more. I turned my back to him.

"It looks better," he told me, lightly brushing his fingertips over the wounds. "It's not red like it was last night."

"I heal well," I said.

"Let me go get the Neosporin anyway," he said and got off the bed. He came back with the ointment and rubbed some on me. "I'm really tearing you up, Rain. It's not good. You deserve better."

I turned to face him. "You've been tearing me up for a year, Eric. Scratches, bites, wrecking my ass and my throat. I'm fine and I kept coming back."

"I didn't know." The distress on his face was clear. "Every time I saw you, you were fine."

I nodded. "That's because I wouldn't work if I was damaged."

"I didn't realize," he frowned. "I knew that you'd disappear for weeks. I just didn't think. I thought you were avoiding me. Intentionally trying to make me crazy with want and need."

"You... Need me?" I squeaked.

"Holy fuck," he grumbled. "Are we doing this again? Can we please not do this? I've reached my limit on being emotional and girly this weekend already. Ok?"

He was being bitchy but I could tell that he wasn't really angry. Talking about his feelings, being vulnerable, made him uncomfortable. "Ok," I smirked. "You get a reprieve until Monday."

"Thank you," he smirked. "Now get dressed before I change my mind about food and just decide to eat you instead."

"What?" I exclaimed. "I'm twice as dressed as you are!"

"Yes," he agreed and got up. 

I just sat on the edge of the bed and watched him get ready. I had seen him strip plenty of times and I had seen him dress for work and to take me home but I had never watched him dress to go out before. He ran a blow dryer over his hair but not enough to get it completely dry. It was still damp when he turned it off. With the amount of hair he had it would have taken too long to dry it completely. He left his towel in the bathroom and stepped into his closet. He was wearing black pants when he stepped out but they weren't his leathers. A white dress shirt went on next, buttoned all the way to his throat and a violet brocade vest went over that. Socks, knee-high boots, and a black, calf-length jacket completed the ensemble. He added black eyeliner and a couple of bulky silver rings before he was ready to go. It wasn't the complete club regalia but it was close enough to make me salivate. I wondered if he was dressing down because it was Fry Street or if he was doing it for my benefit. I didn't have the kind of money to be able to dress to his normal club standards.

He looked down at me still sitting there with my shirt in my hands. "Rain?"

I looked up at him. The boots that he was wearing had heels. The top of his head was barely clearing the ceiling. "You're fucking tall," I croaked. The hot water gargle had worn off and my throat was sore as fuck again.

He smirked at me. "Are we going?"

I nodded, slipped my shirt on, and followed him down the stairs.

He turned off the car in the parking lot of my apartment. "Do you want me to come in?" he asked.

I shook my head. He had never seen my place before and I didn't want him to. "I'll be quick," I whispered.

"Bring extra clothes," he said as I got out of the car.

Since I knew that I couldn't match his attire I didn't even try. I ran some mousse through my hair to fluff it up, put on far more eyeliner than he was wearing, and added black lipstick. I slipped on a pair of skin tight black jeans and a Bauhaus t-shirt that was missing the collar, sleeves, and was basically held together with safety pins. I added a studded leather belt that rode really low on my hips and, just for Eric, a pair of leather wrist cuffs that had d-rings on them. I figured that he'd appreciate that. I ran my hands over the pyramid studs on my belt, checking to make sure there was nothing that would catch on the leather of his car seat, before I stepped back into my Doc Marten's and gathered up my toothbrush and a few changes of clothes, not knowing what he'd want to do the next day. Honestly, the few changes of clothes amounted to about half of the stuff that I owned. I looked around the place before I left. As an afterthought, I grabbed the small stash of pot that I had filched from Vy's apartment.

I tossed my backpack in the back seat and bent over to lace up my boots. When I looked up Eric was staring at me. "What?"

"You look good," he said as he reached over the brushed his fingertips across the leather band on my wrist. Then he tilted my face up with the slight pressure of his fingers under my chin. "I wish I had known that you were going to do that. I would have kissed you before."

I smirked at him. "Do you want me to take it off?"

"No," he replied. "It looks good. It just makes me want to kiss you even more than usual." He stared hard into my eyes, as if he was trying to see into my soul. "You make me crazy," he told me again. "I've never been drawn to a guy like I am to you. I've messed around but out of curiosity, not desire. You're just so fucking beautiful. It makes me insane."

I smiled at him and reached up and flipped his sun visor down.

"What?" he asked, confused about what I had done.

"Mirror," I replied, grinning.

He smirked. "Well, it's good to know that the feeling is mutual. I'd hate to be the only crazy one." He grazed his fingers down my throat tortuously slowly, while intently staring at the path his fingers made. "Does it still hurt?" he asked, with his fingertips resting on my Adam's apple. 

I nodded.

"Ok. Food. Something soft," he chanted like a mantra as he started the car and backed out of the parking space.

We pulled into the parking lot of a TGIFriday's. It made me uneasy because I had never eaten there before but mainly because it looked crowded. I had no problem with large crowds, as long as it was the right kind of people. The way we were dressed, we would stick out like a sore thumb. 

"Stay here," he suggested. "Let me see if there's a wait." He went inside and came back out a couple of minutes later. "Thirty minutes," he told me. "Do you want to wait?"

I shook my head. "We'll be late."

"Ok. We'll find something in Denton. The Tomato is an option but I don't think pizza is soft."

"Kettle?" I suggested.

"Ok."

He was quiet, introspective, the whole trip. I knew that he was struggling with finding his balance again but I didn't ask. I didn't want to annoy him. We just listened to music in companionable silence. I had never been the type that had to have conversation all the time. I appreciated quiet when I could get it. 

It was a busy night on Fry Street. We circled the area several times before we found a place to park. We walked to the beer store on the corner of Oak to get a pack of cigarettes before we headed the block and a half to Kharma. People were milling around the street as always. There were a few bars and a pool hall in the store fronts that made up the strip along Avenue A. The UNT campus was directly across the street so there was always an odd mix of college age people hanging around. Kharma was packed but it always was during the warm months that school was in session, especially on weekend nights. 

The café was really one in name only. It had a couple of tables at the back, near the counter, but mostly it was filled with living room furniture. It wasn't very big. It was maybe twenty feet wide and sixty feet deep from the front door to the service counter on the back wall. The small stage was set up in the back third of the building, near the counter, where the tables would have been on a night that there wasn't a band playing. The center third of the space narrowed to allow for a single bathroom and a small room that had a single table in it with almost no space to walk around it. I never could figure out the purpose of the room but the regulars called it the mushroom room. The front third of Kharma held a couch, a love seat, and a few wingback chairs. The coffee table had an inset chess board and, on slower nights, you could usually find some guys playing chess.

The place catered to the college kids and allowed bands to play there and the artists to hang their art on the walls and offer it for sale. It was currently standing room only. Which was not surprising as the street outside was in much the same condition. 

"Do you want coffee or something else?" Eric asked me as we stood outside the door, which was propped open.

"Coffee," I replied. "Please."

"I'll go," he offered. "I'll be right back."

I nodded and walked back up the half block to Hickory Street to wait for him. At the corner of Fry and Hickory, the street sloped down and the sidewalk sloped up, forming about a two foot drop from the sidewalk to the curb. It was a popular place to sit and I made my way over to sit there. A couple people made room for me and I sat next to an enormous rabbit stretched out on the warm sidewalk. 

"Hey Behemoth." I scratched the rabbit on the top of his head, between his floppy ears. "Hey Tim." I directed to the guy holding the leash attached to the harness on the rabbit.

"Hey Rain. How's it been?" he replied.

"Good."

I scanned the crowd of people. There were quite a few that I knew but, with my throat hurting the way it was, I wasn't in the mood to socialize. I concentrated on the rabbit instead of the people. Tim and Behemoth were regulars on Fry street and the huge rabbit looked around the crowd with indifference. He was a spectacle. Before I had met them I had never even heard of a rabbit that big. He had to weight twenty pounds. I didn't know that you could put a harness on a rabbit and walk it around like a dog either. I'd never had a pet but thought that, if I got one, I'd want a rabbit. Something smaller than Behemoth would be good. 

When Eric came back with coffee he handed me one of the cups and I took a careful sip. The heat felt fantastic on my throat and I was shocked to find it contained the perfect amount of cream and sugar for my taste. I had no idea that Eric knew how I liked my coffee.

I moaned in delight. "That's wonderful. Thank you."

Eric grinned and flourished a dramatic bow. "It is my pleasure to service you."

"Service?" I arched my eyebrow. "Freudian slip?"

"Wholly intentional, I assure you," he smirked.

That's about as much conversation as the two of us had because Eric always attracted a crowd. People started gathering in a small group around him, vying for his attention. I just sat back and watched. He was standing in the street in front of me but it didn't matter. No one tried to drive down Hickory on weekends without expecting to have people in the street. And, technically, he was standing in a designated parking space but, no matter how premium the spot was, only a total dickhead would try to park there on a weekend night.

I was amazed at the difference that a few days made. Just the week before I would have been one of those people dying for him to notice me, give me a word, a smile. Now I was content to just watch him flirt with others, secure in the knowledge that I would have his undivided attention as soon as we were alone. He was beautiful in his element. I couldn't fathom how I had ended up so lucky. I must have had an odd look on my face because, at one point, he glanced at me and raised an eyebrow in an unasked question. I just smiled at him in return. 

We moved into the crowded café as soon as the band started to play. They were good but it wasn't the kind of music that Eric usually listened to. They had a heavy poppy sound and the college kids seemed to love it. We stayed in the café for the first set but moved outside for the second. We could still hear them on the street but it was much easier to breathe. 

"Here." Eric handed me his coffee cup when he noticed that I had finished my own. There was no way to get a refill while the band was playing. His coffee was much sweeter than mine had been, it was practically candied, and it made me smile to know that he had a sweet tooth. 

"Rain?" I turned toward the voice to see a short but voluptuous girl with gorgeous, long, wavy, dark red hair.

"Melissa?"

"Oh my God!" she screamed and launched herself at me. I had to drop my coffee cup in order to catch her as she jumped into my arms. "I haven't seen you in so long!" she yelled and kissed me on the mouth. There was no tongue but it wasn't just a friendly kiss either.

I set her down and hugged her tightly. "How have you been?"

"Great!" She gave me a 100 watt smile. "Do you go here too?"

"No. I'm just hanging out."

"God, I've missed you! What have you been doing? You look amazing." She was bouncing from foot to foot in excitement.

"You look pretty fucking hot yourself." She did but then she always had. She was half Hispanic and half Irish with beautiful brown eyes, the cutest nose, and a plump heart-shaped butt that used to make me hard as a rock every time I saw her. She was wearing a t-shirt that was cut off just under her large breasts and showed off her tiny waist but her short skirt had a petticoat so I wasn't able to see that delicious ass that had kept my frequent appreciation for so long.

"Ahem," Eric mock cleared his throat.

"Lissie. Meet Eric. My..." I trailed off.

"Boyfriend," Eric supplied and stepped up close to me. 

"Boyfriend?" Melissa asked, surprised.

"Yes," I smiled.

"Ok." Melissa took it in stride. "Nice to meet you." She turned back to me. "Where are you living?"

"Dallas. Off Lemon. I've missed you. How is the family?"

"Great. Matty is in high school now, can you believe that? Like regular high school and everything," she beamed. Matthew was her little brother. He'd been born deaf and had been in a special school for blind and deaf kids when I knew him. He was an adorable kid and Melissa had taught me sign language so I could talk to him.




Rain Falls Ch. 04



"That's awesome." I was really happy for him. "He always was a smart kid."

"We need to go, Rain. The set's ended," Eric interjected.

I looked up at his face and he did not look happy. I turned back to Melissa. "We came up here to see some people," I explained. 

"That's cool," she grinned. "Wait a second." She dug around in her purse and pulled out a pen. She grabbed my arm and wrote her phone number on the inside of my forearm. We shared a secret smile when she finished. Both of us recalling that she had done the same thing, years before, when we first met. "Call me."

"I will," I promised her. We hugged and Eric dragged me back inside the café.

Eric stayed moody and sullen the rest of the time we were there. We didn't stay too much longer but he did remember to stop at the Kettle on the way out of town. It was barely midnight and the place wouldn't get crowded until the bars closed at two.

Sticking with the idea of soft and warm, I ordered soup, mashed potatoes and coffee. Eric ordered a burger and fries. I was starving but tried to eat slowly to minimize the pain of swallowing. My throat was feeling a lot better but I didn't want to push it. Eric just picked at his food.

"I know that I gave you the weekend off, so I'm not going to force the issue but, are you going to tell me what's wrong?" I asked.

He was spinning his knife on the table and he slapped his palm over it to stop it. "Who was that girl?"

"Melissa?" I asked, even though I was positive which girl he meant.

"Yes."

"My first... and only real girlfriend," I told him. "I was sixteen when we met. It was the last foster home that I was in. We were together for six months before things got bad and I had to bail."

"Things got bad?" he asked.

I nodded. "I got... interesting..."

Eric looked confused so I tried to clarify. "To my foster 'father'." I made quote signs in the air for the last word.

Eric's already pale skin blanched. "Did he?"

I shook my head. "Got close. I split." I shrugged. "Melissa and I went to school together and her family lived in the same neighborhood."

"So this was before you knew that you were gay?" he asked.

I didn't know how to answer that so I tried to be as honest as possible. "I don't know that I'm gay now." It seemed like I just confused him further. "I've only made an active choice to be with two different people in my life. Melissa and you. Everyone else has been them choosing me. If left to my own devices I don't know which way I would swing."

"Are you more attracted to men or women?" he asked.

"I'm attracted to a lot of people for a lot of different reasons. I don't know if it's more women or men. Right now, I'm attracted to you. I only desire you. I know that doesn't answer your questions but it's the best that I can do."

"But you have sex with men," he stated.

"I have sex with anyone who pays me, Eric. I don't discriminate. Men or women, it doesn't matter."

"So you're bisexual."

"Maybe," I replied. "Maybe I'm gay. Maybe I'm straight. I have no idea. What I do know for sure is that I want to be with you. If that makes me gay then I guess that's what I am. Maybe I'm just Eric-sexual."

He chuckled at the joke but it was dry and half-hearted at best. "You don't see guys walking down the street and think 'Fuck, he's hot'?"

"Sometimes," I admitted. "I do the same thing with girls. But I don't think, 'I want to take him/her home and do nasty things with them.' I only think that about you."

"I didn't know that you liked girls too," he said quietly. 

I could tell that it was really bothering him for some reason and I couldn't figure out why. I reached across the table and put my hand over his, still on top of his knife. "Eric. Please listen to me. I'm in this. I'm with you. I'm committed. I don't want to be with anyone but you."

"But you'll fuck other people anyway," he argued. "You said it yourself. You'll have sex with anyone who pays you."

"It's my job," I sighed. 

"Find a different one."

"Don't you think I would if I could?" I retorted. "I have no skills. I'm not talented like you. I'm not that smart. I can't even flip burgers because I don't have an I.D. What do you expect me to do? Would you prefer that I was selling drugs?"

"You don't have an I.D.? Why not?" he asked. "How do you get in the clubs?"

"I have a fake I.D." I explained. "Even if I did have a real one I wouldn't be able to get into the clubs. I'm not twenty-one."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty." I hesitated. "Ish."

"Ish?"

"I don't know, exactly," I replied. "I'm twenty. I was born in the spring. But I don't know the exact date so I could be twenty-one."

"You don't know your birthday?" He was totally confused.

"I was abandoned as a baby. They never found my mother so I don't know my birthday."

"What the fuck?" he asked. "So you don't have a birth certificate?"

I nodded. "There is one. Somewhere. I don't have a copy of it. They made one up for me but it's got a lot of unknowns on it. I saw it once when one of my foster parents had to have it for something for school. Registration or something. I don't remember. I don't have an I.D. because I don't have a copy of it. I don't have a social security card either. I ran away from my last foster home when I was sixteen. I've been on the streets since then. I do what I do to survive."

"Holy fuck, Rain," he exclaimed. "I didn't know any of that."

"No one knows any of that," I responded. "I would prefer to keep it that way. I would rather not have to suffer through the looks of pity."

"How the fuck did you register for the draft without a birth certificate?"

I shrugged. "Easy. I didn't."

"Fuck, Rain. You can go to prison for that."

"Eric," I sighed. "I could go to jail for lots of things. I don't think the Selective Service is my biggest offense."

"Ok," he stated. "Starting Monday we are going to try to get you legal."

"How do you plan to go about that?"

"Find your birth certificate," he explained. "Or whatever you have that substitutes as one, for starters. Then get you a driver's license and a social security card. Once we have all that then we can work on getting you a real job."

I laughed. "Doing what?"

He shrugged. "Whatever you want to do."

"I have no skills," I repeated. "I don't even have a high school diploma."

"Well then we can add a G.E.D. to the list. Maybe some college."

I sighed. "That's a pipe dream. I try to live in reality."

"This is your new reality," he told me. "Get used to it. I don't want you on the streets. It's dangerous and it's getting worse."

"Not to mention the fact that you're a jealous boyfriend and you hate the idea that I'm having sex with other people," I added with a teasing smirk.

"That too," he grinned.

On the drive back Eric wanted me to tell him more about my life but I begged off, promising him that I would some other time. Even though I had slept all day I was still tired so I scrunched down in the seat and napped during the drive. It wasn't like me to sleep so much and I hoped that I wasn't getting sick.

It didn't take him long to have me naked and hard when we got back to his place. 

"How's your ass?" he asked while he was fastening the collar around my neck.

"Needy," I husked.

He smirked. "And your throat?"

"Let's give it another day," I requested.

He nodded and kissed my neck right above the leather strap. He hooked his finger in the D-ring on the collar and spun us around so that his back was to the bed. He sat down on the edge of the mattress and yanked me across his lap, face down.

"What are you doing?" I squeaked.

"You kissed her," he told me and brought the flat of his palm down across my bare butt.

The loud smack sounded before the sting of pain blossomed. "Ow. Fuck." I couldn't believe that he was spanking me. "Eric stop."

"You made me jealous," he snarled and brought his hand down again in the same spot. It was already burning from the first strike and the pain was instantaneous that time. "I don't get jealous," he said and smacked my ass again.

"Oh fuck," I groaned. He was still fully dressed and my hard cock was rubbing on the rough texture of his pants. I could actually feel myself leaking pre-cum. He was spanking me like a child and I was so turned on by it that I was about to come. I stopped struggling. I was just making it worse.

After five swats he stopped and rubbed my sore butt cheek. The cold air felt like ice when he removed his hand. Then, without warning, he pushed his finger inside me. It wasn't dry so I assumed he must have licked it. He immediately zeroed in on my prostate. The combination of sensations, the burning pain of my butt, the exquisite pleasure of being finger fucked, the delicious friction on my cock, and the humiliation of being punished like an errant child, worked together to push me straight to the edge. 

I was balancing on the precipice, seconds from tripping, when he abruptly pulled his finger out of me. "Oh God! No! Please! I was so close."

"You'll come when I'm ready for you to," he growled at me. He rubbed my flaming ass again for a minute before I heard the distinct sound of the drawer on the bedside table. "Which one?"

I was facing the wrong way and couldn't see what he was doing. My mind was too fogged with lust to understand. "What?" I groaned.

"The lube. It's two different kinds."

Fuck yes. Lube. The only thing I could think of that would have made it better. "The ultra-slick for me. The other one is for you."

"For me?" His voice went up on the last word.

"For your cock," I explained. I didn't want him thinking that I had designs on his ass. If he wanted that he'd have to be the one to bring it up.

He didn't respond to me but, after a minute, he pushed two slicked up fingers inside me. I nearly came right then. "Fuck," I moaned. "Can I come?"

"Not yet." He avoided my prostate and just rubbed my channel slowly sliding in and out. "You're so fucking soft inside, Baby. It feels like velvet. Tight, hot, velvet."

I was squirming again. I needed to come but he wasn't rubbing the right spot for that to happen and I was losing my ever-loving mind.

"Can't wait to get my cock inside you, Baby," he murmured. "I fucking need it so bad."

"Yes," I hissed. "Fuck me, Eric. I want your big dick inside me."

"Not yet," he repeated and pushed a third finger inside me. He was stretching me and preparing me for his cock but I had no idea where he'd learned to do that. He'd never done it before. He'd fingered me lots of times but not like this. This had a purpose.

I was in such a state of rampant need by the time he had four fingers in me that it was like my brain was leaking out my ears. I was writhing and whimpering and begging. I cried out in distress when he slid his fingers out. He stood up, dumping me on the floor.

"Get on the bed, on your knees," he ordered, his voice thick with desire. He stripped off his clothes almost as fast as I could have. I turned my head back to see him knee walk across the bed, slicking up his cock. That huge rod in his hand, glistening, sent shivers of anticipation up my spine. He got into position behind me, with his knees on the outside of mine, and lined up his cockhead with my twitching fuckhole. He made a loud hissing noise as he pushed inside me slowly. He slid in in one long drive and then paused. The last few days I had seen parts of Eric that I didn't know existed. I had liked the rough, dominating, forceful Eric but I was loving the tender, caring, thoughtful Eric. As much as that was true, I wanted a little of the Eric that I knew.

"Please Eric," I begged. "Fuck my ass hard." I wiggled my butt around the spear impaling me, knowing that it drove him nuts when I did that.

He skipped his fingertips down the ridges of my spine. "You want that, Baby? You want me to pound you into the fucking floor?"

"Yes," I moaned. "Fuck yes. Own me."

"Fuck yeah I own you." He pulled back slowly until only his mushroom head was still gaping me then he slammed forward, shattering what was left of my sanity.

I have no idea how long he fucked me into oblivion. I know that I started on all fours but the force of his drives shoved me down onto my stomach. He continued to pummel me in that position. It was his favorite. He liked to use his body weight to pin my smaller body down. It gave him the power to do whatever he wanted to me and I had no way of escaping his fingernails or his teeth. I wouldn't have tried to evade his violent affections even if I had been on top. The pain of him biting me or clawing me intensified the pleasure, just like the pain of him taking me roughly. I bitched about the marks he left on me but I had never failed to shoot my load when he punctured my skin and drew blood. I had no doubts that there was something severely wrong with me that I found my ultimate pleasure by adding an element of pain but it was the way I was wired and I wasn't in denial about it. I also wasn't willing to admit it to anyone else.

Heat began to suffuse my entire being and my body started to tremor uncontrollably as I climbed higher and higher toward a deep chasm. 

"Fuck yes, Rain. Come for me," he panted. He knew, like always, that I was so close. "Come for me, Baby. Let go. I can't hold out. It feels too fucking amazing." He had started slowing down his thrusts and he was deep dicking me with a steady heartbeat. 

"Need. To. Come." I panted. 

"Come for me," he moaned.

"Need," I groaned. "Eric!" I tilted my forehead down into the mattress, baring the back of my neck to him.

"Oh Fuck," he growled and sank his teeth into me. The pain shocked my body into release. Fire tore through me, then ice. My vision went bright white and then black as I shattered into millions of tiny pieces.

I must have blacked out momentarily because I missed the exquisite bliss of feeling him fill me with his life essence. The next thing I registered was his lips moving softly against my skin as he nursed on the new wound on my previously undamaged shoulder. He wasn't moving but his cock was still hard inside me. I wasn't surprised. There had only been two instances of him not coming twice before he was satiated. Once the night before and once a year before, the very first time we ever had sex. This would normally be the point where he'd wring another mind-blowing orgasm from me before he'd fuck me into the mattress again. But things had changed so I didn't know what to expect. A thousand scenarios raced through my mind but the last thing I expected was for him to roll off of me.

He climbed off the bed and then back on a second later. "You made me bite you," he chastised as he rubbed ointment into my new bite mark and the two older ones. "I didn't want to do that."

"Yes you did."

"Ok. I did." I could hear the humor in his voice. "But I was trying not to."

He'd finished treating my bites and I sat up to look at him. "I don't want you holding back with me, Eric. I can handle it."

He set the tube on the night stand and moved behind me on the bed. He gently laid us both down in spoon fashion. "I'm trying to find other ways to please us both without damaging you."

"Like the prepping?"

"Sheldon suggested it."

"Who is Sheldon?" I was a little annoyed that he was taking to someone about himself that wasn't me. 

"The guy that I was doing the mural for over at European Crossroads. He's opening a curio shop and I was painting the back room."

"And you talked to him about us?" I was hoping that talking was all they did.

"He's gay and I told him about you." I didn't respond because I was afraid that my ire would come out in my voice. He picked up on it anyway. "I was upset about hurting you. He told me that I should have been prepping you. I didn't know that. I didn't know about your throat at the time or I would have asked him about that too."

"I'm fine," I grumbled.

"Stop, Rain." He held me tighter. "I don't want to keep hurting you. I don't know how to treat you right and you never told me any of this. You just let me tear you up."

I sighed. "Three days ago this wasn't a relationship, Eric. You were my John. You like rough sex and I gave you what you wanted. If you wanted to talk about better or gentler ways to go about things you could have come to me about it. It bugs me that you don't want to talk to me but you talk to someone else." 

"You're right. I should have talked to you," he replied. "Would you have told me what I was doing wrong if I had?"

"You weren't doing anything wrong," I shot back.

"See," he sighed. "This is why I talked to Sheldon. You wouldn't have told me."

I counted to ten in my head before I replied. "You weren't doing anything wrong," I repeated. "There are other ways that we could be doing things. I would have been able to offer suggestions without making you feel like you were screwing up."

"Like what?"

"Like, for instance, we both like it when you're rough. There's nothing wrong with that. It brings us both pleasure," I responded.

"So how do we go about that without hurting you?"

"We can't. Hurting me a little is what we're both getting off to," I told him. "But we can do it in ways that cause little to no permanent damage. Prepping me is good. Lots of lube is good too. There's no way to get what we both want out of the biting with causing me some damage but you're taking care of me afterward. That's the best thing that we can do for that. If we end up hurting me, we need to make sure that I get cared for. Ok?"

"Ok." He kissed the bite mark. "I really like that lube you got," he offered. "It made me come too soon though."

I chuckled and wiggled my way around so that I was facing him. "Are you implying that we aren't going to go again?"

"We need to take this off." He buried his face in my neck and tugged on the collar with his teeth. "You blacked out for a little back there and I don't think it's safe for that to happen with this on."

"Then take it off." I craned my head back and he unfastened the collar and tossed it off the bed. "What about these?" I held up my wrists and he unfastened the cuff too. 

"I like these," he said before they joined the collar on the floor. "I think we should get a whole set made. I liked it when I tied you to the bed."

"I liked it too." I smiled and ducked my head into my chest, embarrassed to admit that.

He kissed the top of my head. "I think you might be as twisted as I am. We're going to have to explore that theory one day."

"I don't know about that. I'm not the one that had my teeth sharpened," I teased.

"Neither did I," he responded, taking a small nip of my shoulder. "It's natural. The dentist used to tell my mother that we should file them down but she wouldn't let him. I'm glad now that she didn't."

"Open your mouth," I said. He opened wide and ran my finger over his teeth. His canines were a smidgeon longer than the rest of his teeth but he didn't look like a vampire or anything. They weren't even the sharpest teeth. The ones on either side of his canines were the sharpest. I had never been able to get a real good look at the marks he left on me but I assumed most of the damage was probably caused by those teeth.

He bit down on my finger playfully and I chuckled. Then he started licking and sucking on my finger and I moaned. "I want to ride you," I told him. "Will you let me on top?"

He nodded with my finger still in his mouth then rolled onto his back. I slid it out and grabbed the warming lube off the nightstand before straddling his thighs. I slathered a good amount of the lube on his cock. "Do you like to be ridden?" I asked.

"I guess we'll find out," he husked. "I'm liking what you're doing so far."

I continued to pump his cock until I could feel the gel heating in my palm. "You've never been on bottom?"

"You're not a girl." He gasped as I twisted my slick palm around his plump head. "You feel better."




Rain Falls Ch. 04



I shimmied up his legs and reached behind me to line his mammoth cock up with my anxious hole. "We're going to go slow at first. Ok?"

He nodded and I inched down his length. He tossed back his head and his eyes rolled back. "Fuck," he groaned as my ass swallowed his tool.

I was panting and sweat was running down my spine by the time I got to the bottom. I didn't think it was possible but he felt bigger inside me in that position. He gripped my hips and examined my face when I didn't move.

"Just a second," I panted. "Feels like you parked a Peterbilt in there."

The waiting, giving me time to adjust, was something we just didn't do and I didn't know how long his patience would hold out. To give him credit, he didn't move. He didn't act impatient. He just held my hips in a firm grip and studied my face. I wasn't in pain. There was plenty of moisture from the huge deposit of cum that he'd left inside me and I was still gaped from being fucked so hard a few minutes before. The feeling was discomfort. It was like all my internal organs were having to rearrange themselves to make room for his cock. 

After a couple of minutes passed and I still hadn't moved he asked, "Are you ok? We don't have to do this."

I nodded. "I want to. I'm just trying to..." I rocked up on my knees a little bit and back down, just testing. His body tensed. I could see the muscles ripple under the skin in his abdomen. We had never had sex face to face before and I loved seeing his reactions. The desire to make him writhe outweighed any discomfort that I was feeling. I rocked up again, higher that time. His eyes rolled back in his head again and his fingertips dug into my hips. I grinned and spread my knees out a little more. The shift in position lessened the odd pressure inside me a little. I spread my hands out on his chest for balance and slid as far up his long shaft as I could. I waited for a second until he locked gazes with me. "Ready?" I asked.

"Fuck yes," he replied.

I let gravity control my fall and we both shouted in pleasure.

Nothing in my history could have prepared me for the ecstasy that was riding Eric's cock. I controlled the speed and the angle and it was pure heaven. I couldn't last. Eric couldn't seem to decide what he wanted to watch more and his focus never settled. When he took ahold of my dick I couldn't figure out which I wanted more, to fuck his fist or to fuck my ass on his cock. I didn't have long to worry about it. My orgasm slammed though me and covered his hand and torso with thick ribbons of my cum before I collapsed on his chest. He wasn't done with me. He rolled us so that he was on top and pounded my ass ferociously. I writhed under him, floating in paradise.

"Oh shit," he breathed. He tried to slow down but his hips fell out of rhythm and he sped back up, racing toward his finish. "Fuck!" he shouted. His cock swelled and pulsed inside me and he filled my guts with his seed a second time.

As soon as he stopped thrusting through his orgasm I let my legs slide down his hips and thighs. He stayed inside me, bracing his upper body on his elbows on either side of my chest. His head was down, face buried in my neck. I could feel his rapid breaths on my neck as he panted. He regained control of his breathing and raised his head, capturing my lips in a passion filled kiss.

"I'm sorry," he murmured against my lips. "That was fast."

"That was perfect," I sighed in pleasure.

He raised his head so he could look into my eyes. I smiled and he smiled back. He kissed me again and slowly pulled out of me. My channel mourned the loss of connection. He snuggled his body next to me and pulled me against him, tucking me into his embrace, back to front, again. "I didn't know that we could do it like that."

"Like what?" I mumbled, drifting into a contented la-la land.

"Missionary."

"Did you like it?" I mumbled, almost inaudibly.

"Too much," he replied, seeming far away. "I love being able to see your beautiful face."

If there was any more conversation I wasn't aware of it. I was already asleep.



Rain Falls Ch. 05



I had that dream again. The one where I'm being chased down and ripped apart by wild animals. I knew where it stemmed from. It doesn't take a genius to figure out why a street kid would develop a reoccurring nightmare like that. It was bothering me because I hadn't had the dream in a long time and now it was back. It was back when I was in the safest place that I had ever been. I was sleeping in the arms of my lover. Nothing was going to hurt me. Nothing could. Anything that tried to get me would have burst into flames from the amount of heat that Eric put off. The man was a sleeping space heater. I was sweating bricks. Never in my life have I enjoyed or wished for cold weather but I was at that moment. Anything to give me some relief from the oppressive heat that was my boyfriend. 

I carefully tried to extricate myself but gained no advantage. He just gripped me tighter in his sleep. I tried to take a deep breath but it felt like I was breathing under water. I was pretty sure that I was going to die of a heat stroke. I gave up trying to be nice and just tore myself out of his arms. He whimpered like a wounded animal. The sound brought back flashes of my dream and it made me heartsick to hear it coming from him. I crawled over his sleeping form and snuggled up behind him, on top of the bedding. He seemed to settle back into peaceful slumber as soon as I had my arms wrapped around him and the open air on my back cooled me off dramatically. I was able to fall back asleep, this time playing the big spoon.

Eric jerking awake woke me. He grumbled a bit and turned over on to his back, pulling me into his arms. I rested my head on his smooth chest and drifted back to sleep. 

I woke again to Eric caressing my back. "Bad night, Baby?" he asked.

"Hot," I explained, not having any desire to share my personal demons. "You put off more heat than a bonfire."

He chuckled. "I know. Sorry about that."

"Don't be," I told him, kissing the silky skin under my head. "I'll appreciate it come winter."

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Good." I snuggled closer into him.

He responded by wrapping his arms around me. "Throat better? Ass ok?"

I nodded against his chest.

"Good." He chuckled when I looked up at him. "You're a mess, Rain."

I grinned. "I'm not surprised. You're a little bit of a mess yourself." I told him, picking dried cum off his chest.

"You made a mess of both of us last night."

"Are you complaining?"

"Not in the slightest. That was the hottest thing I've ever seen," he replied. "I loved watching you come like that. I think we'll have to do that more often. A lot more often."

"I'm not going to argue with that," I assured him. "What are we doing today?"

"There's a guy coming by to pick up a piece that I did for him for a tat and then the night is yours," he told me.

"All mine?" I smirked and latched on to the nipple that was proving too tempting to pass up.

He hissed as I rolled the nub between my teeth. "If you start that now I'm going to finish it and I don't think Bishop will appreciate waiting around for me to fuck you senseless before he gets his flash."

"Hmmm." I sucked on his nipple for a second longer before I released it. "Bishop? Long brown hair, drives a Harley?"

"Yeah. You know him?"

"Knew him," I replied. "Once upon a time. Couple of years ago. Just not a name that you forget, ya know?"

Eric looked at me oddly. "Tell me that you didn't."

"I didn't," I told him. But I had. I hated that I lied to him but I rationalized it by the fact that the truth would make Eric jealous, possibly destroy his friendship with the guy, and I doubted that Bishop was going to divulge my secret. 

It happened at a very low point in my life when I was willing to trade favors for favors. It was winter, I was homeless, and Bishop had a couch and a serious hard-on for blowjobs. I stayed a week. He was a decent guy. He was never mean to me but I couldn't stay. He was totally straight but had a girlfriend who refused to suck his dick. He wasn't going to throw me out and he was too weak to pass up the availability of my willing mouth. The guilt of what he was doing was tearing him up and I took the first opportunity to move on. I hadn't seen him since. It appeared as if that was about to change. I wondered if Eric would get suspicious if I hid in the loft.

"I'm going to take a shower and then make us something to eat," Eric told me. "Are you back on solids now?"

"Oh yeah," I crooned, reaching under the sheet and fondling his semi-hard cock. "Solids." It twitched in my hand and I grinned at him.

He squinted at me. "Do you always wake up horny?"

"Only when I wake up with a stunningly gorgeous man in my arms."

"How often does that happen?"

"Once, so far." I grinned. "I'm hoping for lots more in the future."

He chuckled. "We'll work on that." Then he patted me on the butt in a dismissive manner. "As much as I would love to take advantage of your mood, Bishop should be here soon. I need to make some attempt to look presentable. At the very least, wash the cum off my body."

I sighed dramatically and flopped over on the bed to let him up.

I checked out his body while he got out of bed and walked to the bathroom. He was magnificent. He wasn't built up like Arnold or Stallone. He was leaner, less bulky. But he wasn't skinny, like me. He had all this definition. I could see all the muscles ripple just under his skin as he moved. All the guys that I had seen naked, or partially, had a layer of padding. Eric didn't have that. He was rock solid and gorgeous. I had time to wonder what he did to make his body look like that while I lounged around in bed waiting for my turn in the shower.

"Biscuits and gravy ok with you?" Eric asked as he came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist.

"Hell yes," I replied as my stomach rumbled its opinion loudly.

Eric smirked at me and glanced over my naked body, still stretched out on the bed. "I know what I'd rather have." He eyed me lustfully. 

I spread my arms. "I'm all yours."

"Don't tempt me," he leered at me. "Or Bishop will get a show that he hadn't bargained on."

I sighed and reluctantly got off the bed to shower.

When I got out of the shower I realized that I had left my stuff in the car. I could hear voices downstairs and assumed that Bishop was already there. I pulled on my jeans and the white dress shirt that Eric had been wearing the night before. It was huge on me. I looked like a kid playing dress up but it was better than my own shirt.

I walked down the stairs quietly but I didn't go unnoticed. Bishop looked up and smiled. "Rain. Long time."

"Hey Bish."

He hadn't changed a bit. He looked exactly like I remembered but it had only been a couple of years. His long hair was pulled back in a single braid down his back and he was wearing faded blue jeans and black leather jacket. He was the epitome of a biker. 

He greeted me by clasping forearms and tugging me in for a shoulder bump. "Are you living here?" he asked, looking back and forth between me and Eric. I could see the question in his eyes. He was trying to figure out if I was doing favors for Eric.

"Nah. I have my own place," I told him.

"That's great," he grinned but he was fidgeting and rolling his shoulders back, shifting from foot to foot.

"How've you been?" I asked. "How's... I forgot her name." It was a lie. I knew her name. I was really good at remembering names and faces but I didn't like her so I was being a dick.

"Mindy?" he asked. "Oh man. I dumped her ages ago. Right after you split. That chick was cold, man. Couldn't keep a chick around that wouldn't touch me, ya know?"

"Yeah."

"I'm married now," he said. "Got a kid on the way."

"That's great, Bish." I grinned. "Congrats."

"Thanks, man," he smiled and then turned serious. "So why'd you bail, man? I just came home and you were gone."

I shrugged. "I was in the way. It was better."

He shook his head. "You didn't have to do that. It was cool."

"Your food is getting cold, Rain," Eric interjected quietly with that bored look on his face.

During the entire exchange between me and Bishop, Eric stood there glancing back and forth between us, I'm sure, taking note of Bishop's obvious discomfort with me. He was still a nice guy but his body language was screaming loudly enough for the neighbors to hear it and Eric wasn't stupid. He also wasn't happy.

"Yeah. Ok." I was being dismissed and I took the hint. "It was good seeing you," I said to Bishop.

"You too, man," he replied as I walked back to the kitchen.

From the kitchen I listened to them finish up their business and say their good-byes while I wondered what it must feel like to have something that you conceived of and created permanently inked on someone's body. Eric really could cook. I scarfed down some amazing biscuits and gravy. It was the good stuff with lots of pepper and chunks of sausage in it. It wasn't overly healthy but good southern food rarely is. 

Eric strode into the kitchen, grabbed me by the back of the neck and took possession of my mouth. He kissed me with a degree aggression that I had not forgotten that he was capable of and it made my toes curl. During the kiss he used his tongue to push a pill into my mouth. It was the size and shape of an aspirin but tasted a thousand times worse. With as bad as it tasted, it could only be one thing.

"You lied to me," he growled as I took a sip of coffee to wash down the pill.

"I know," I admitted. "I'm sorry."

"Don't do it again."

"I didn't know what to do. I didn't want you to get jealous over something that meant nothing and happened years ago."

"I would rather be jealous than be lied to," he told me.

"Last time you got jealous you spanked me," I pointed out.

"What do you think I will do to you for lying to me?" He arched his eyebrow. The implied threat caused my breath to hitch and my dick to get hard. Eric smirked. "I think you just enjoy me punishing you."

The skin of my face heated in shame. I didn't know why it embarrassed me but it did. "I didn't know that he'd be so fucking obvious about it," I grumbled.

"This is cute." Eric tugged on the front of the shirt I was wearing. 

"I hope it's ok," I said. "My stuff is in your car."

"Strangely enough, I like you in my clothes," he replied. "Did you eat?"

"Yes." I grinned. "It was really good. Thank you."

"I'll go get your stuff," he offered and turned to leave the kitchen.

"Eric?" I stopped him. "What did you just feed me?"

"X." 

I nodded. That's exactly what I thought it was. "I thought you didn't do drugs."

"I said that I don't smoke pot," he corrected me. "I never said anything about other things. I prefer my inebriating substances to be white." He paused. "Or red."

"You do realize that I'm just going to throw up everything I just ate, right?"

He just smirked at me and went to get my clothes. I sighed. I hated wasting food. I was glad that I'd remembered to bring a toothbrush.

While I waited for the ecstasy to kick in I cleaned the kitchen. It was only fair since Eric had cooked. Afterward, I stepped into the cavernous space of the warehouse and looked up to see the curtains pushed all the way open, forming four black columns. I went upstairs and found Eric reclining on the bed, naked, slowly jacking his hard cock. 

"You started without me," I smirked.

"Took you too long," he husked.

"When did you take it?" 

"You were in the shower," he replied through his clamped teeth. "When he got here."

I chuckled. Bishop's behavior suddenly made more sense. "No wonder he was skittish," I said, watching Eric continue to pleasure himself.

"Why?"

"You're popping X and I come out of your bedroom wearing your clothes." I grinned. "Probably freaked him out."

Eric huffed a sarcastic laugh. "Fucker needs to keep his dick off what's mine."

I squinted at him. "Seriously?" 

"Yeah," he responded. Then he moaned as pre-cum started leaking out of his slit. He smeared it around his swollen cockhead. "You gonna just watch or you gonna help?"

I had been fascinated by what I was witnessing but I snapped to it and started stripping.

"Leave the shirt on," Eric ordered.

I already had it unbuttoned but left it on and climbed onto the bed wearing nothing else when something Eric said occurred to me. "Is this Bishop's shit?" I asked.

"Yeah," he confirmed. "Why?"

"Well fuck," I sighed. "When I knew him, his shit always kicked like a Clydesdale."

Eric chuckled. "That's what makes it fun."

I groaned. "I'm going to puke my guts." I straddled Eric's thighs and let him continue doing all the work. Watching him stroke off was insanely fucking hot and I was as hard as steel and hadn't even touched myself. "How long can you keep doing this?"

"Long time." He was still gritting his teeth and his pupils were completely blown. He was x'ing hardcore. "Fucking touch me."

I gripped his wide shaft, below his own hand, and matched the speed that he was using. After a few seconds of both of our hands on him, he let me take over completely. 

"Come up here," he commanded. "I want to suck your cock."

I shook my head. 

"Did you just say no?" he asked, incredulous.

"You're grinding your teeth. I'm not putting my dick in your mouth."

"I won't bite you."

I snorted. "You bite me all the time. Your teeth are fucking sharp. I'm not taking the chance."

"I won't bite your dick," he argued.

"How do you know?" I shot back. "When was the last time you gave head while x'ing?"

"Never," he admitted.

"There you go."

"Fuck!" He bolted up and tackled me, pinned me to the bed, and sucked my hard cock into his mouth. I guess one did not say no to Eric.

He milked my cock like it was the source of all life and, when I shot my load into his very receptive mouth, he pushed my legs up and attacked my hole with the same ferocity. He licked and sucked and nibbled and tongue fucked me until I surpassed the point where I should have died from unadulterated pleasure. Then he reared up on his knees and lined his throbbing pole up with my entrance.

"Lube!" I shouted.

"Fuck, Rain! You're wet as fuck," he groused.

"Don't care," I panted. "Want to be able to go again later. Need lube. Please Eric."

"Shit," he grumbled but reached for the nightstand and slathered a copious amount of lube on his cock before pushing it inside me. I didn't pay attention to which one he'd used but I knew it soon enough. After a few seconds the unnatural heat started burning through me, adding a whole new level of sensation to the already glorious relentless pounding he was giving my eager fuckhole.

I was climbing again. He hooked his elbows under my knees and lifted my hips up off the bed. His dick was so big that it always put pressure on my prostate but the change in angle had his cock slamming into it on every thrust. I couldn't survive the onslaught. 

I was climbing and climbing. I had passed the point of no return but I needed something. I had gone so far beyond my normal peak that I was sure I was going to actually die. 

"Fuck, Rain," he moaned. "Come for me, Baby. I can't... I'm gonna... Fuck!" His head fell back and he roared out his orgasm as his cock swelled and pulsed inside me, giving me the push that I needed. I came so fucking hard it was as if my soul was being ripped out of me. He came down on top of me like a felled tree, thankfully, catching himself on his elbows before he smushed me. 

"Fuck!" I shouted. "Get off me! Get off me!" I scrambled for purchase, trying to get out from under his weight. He moved slowly, too slowly, he rolled to the side, freeing me.

I bolted to the bathroom and barely made it to the toilet before I tossed my breakfast. The drug hit me so hard that I didn't even care that I was throwing up. Once I'd finished emptying my stomach of everything that I had eaten in the previous month, I stepped into the shower and washed myself, inside and out. Eric's shower stall wasn't very big but he had a removable shower head. I had never seen one before I met Eric and I tended to stay in his shower longer than strictly necessary, playing with it. I, eventually, got out and brushed my teeth. I stared at myself in the mirror for a while and decided that I needed some eyeliner.

I came out of the bathroom to find Eric in pretty much the same place I had left him, with his head toward the foot of the bed, playing with his cock. He wasn't serious about it like he had been when I first came into the bedroom. He was just playing. 

"Feel better?" he asked.

I grinned. "I feel fucking amazing."

He smiled. "You look fucking amazing too." He swung his feet around and sat up. "What do you want to do today, Baby?"

"Well, let's see," I said, knee walking across the bed toward him. I straddled his lap and wrapped my arms around his neck. "I'm tripping balls with the hottest guy on the planet. What do you think I want to do?" I captured his lips for a scorching kiss.

We were both panting when he broke off. "Go dancing?" he asked.

"Hell yes," I smirked.

"It's a little early for that," he informed me. "What do you want to do until then?"

"What time is it?"

"Two-ish."

"Take me out, Eric," I begged. "Otherwise we'll do nothing but fuck all day."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," he chuckled.

"Only if I want to be able to walk tomorrow," I said. "I'm all for it but I need some breaks in between."

"Ok," he grinned. "Break time."

After Eric took a quick shower to wash off the dried sweat and cum, we dressed in jeans and t-shirts, and he took me to Trader's Village. It seemed like an odd place to go but it was great fun. We couldn't be affectionate at the huge open-air flea market since it was full of rednecks and hicks. Wearing all black and the small amount of eyeliner that I had on was enough to get us stared at. If we had been the slightest bit touchy-feely we probably would have gotten lynched.

We played with the puppy-mill puppies and goofed around being silly. Eric had the need to stop at every single booth that sold anything resembling a blade, which was only about a hundred or so. I shopped for clothes. I was always in desperate need of clothing and, normally, I was forced to scrounge what I could at garage sales and thrift shops. The flea markets were too far away to get there on foot. I found some good stuff that actually fit. I was happy. I also found a pair of cowboy boots that I wanted. I thought Eric was going to have an aneurism, he was laughing so hard. 

Eric was Goth but I wasn't. I could dress and act the part but I was just as comfortable in western gear. The cowboys had always been good to me. They were harder on my body than the business men at the hotel but they tipped. They were also more likely to want to bottom. I hadn't been hitting the C&W bars because I had lost my last pair of boots when I was living on the streets. Eric could laugh all he wanted, they were a great deal so I bought them. I now owned three pairs of shoes, which was the most I had ever had at once. 

After I paid for the boots Eric informed me that break time was over. I had to agree completely. I would have stripped down right there and let him take me on the picnic table if it wasn't for the fact that I wanted to get out of there alive. The anticipation, with some help from the ecstasy, had my turgid rod in my hand as soon as we had cleared the parking lot.

"Oh fuck yes, Baby," Eric breathed. "That is so fucking hot. Are you going to come?"

I shook my head, chewing on my bottom lip, and scooted down in the seat enough to give Eric a better view. I should have been more concerned about him paying attention to the road than to me jacking my cock but I wasn't. I wanted him watching me.

We made it back to Eric's in what seemed like record time but then, once we got there, he strolled inside like he had all the time in the world. He was temperamental, which I already knew, but the drug was making him even more inconsistent than normal. By the time he moseyed his way up the stairs, I was already naked and had resumed stroking my cock. I needed to come and I was going to do it with or without him.




Rain Falls Ch. 05



He crawled onto the bed, fully dressed, with a single-serve bottle of orange juice in his hand. He kissed me and slipped another pill in my mouth, handing me the orange juice when he broke off. I didn't need it, I was flying high, but I swallowed it anyway.

"How many of those do you have?" I asked.

"A bit," he replied, skimming his fingers down my body.

"What's a bit?"

"Ninety-six, now." He caressed my sac, rolling my balls in his fingers.

"Jesus." I whistled. "You have a hundred hits of X?"

"Had." He tapped the inside of my thigh. "Open."

"What'd you pay for that?" I asked, parting my legs for him.

"Nothing." He scooted off the bed and began to strip while watching me masturbate. "Just a small drawing of a demon."

He got back on the bed, bringing the lube with him. I looked to make sure it was the right kind that time. He slicked up two fingers and pushed them inside me, watching me writhe.

"Don't stop," he told me when I let go of my cock. "Did Bishop fuck you?" he asked.

I shook my head. "Just oral." I gasped as he rubbed my sweet spot. 

"Mutual?"

"No," I panted. I was getting very close. "He's straight. It's how I paid rent for use of his couch."

"How many men have you let fuck you?" 

His words were a bucket of ice on the fire swirling through my body.

I groaned in frustration and released my grip. "Now, Eric? Do we have to do this right now?"

"Yes." He hooked the fingers still deep inside me sending a spike of pleasure up my spine. "I'm not mad. I'm just curious."

"I don't know," I replied, honestly. "I didn't keep count."

"More or less than a hundred?" he asked.

"The only one that matters is you, Eric," I responded. "Please believe me."

He studied my face with his hand perfectly still. "I believe you, Rain." He slid his fingers out of me, greased up his prick, and crawled on top of me. Bringing one of my knees up to my chest, he slowly pushed inside me. I felt every inch burrowing its way deep into my channel. "We're going to go slow," he husked once he bottomed out.

I nodded, unable to speak.

He pulled back, just as slowly, and then proceeded to make love to me with a tenderness that I had only dreamed of and had never experienced. And, truthfully, I had never even imagined that Eric was capable of. 

It took us hours to get ready to go out. Not because of how we dressed, he had dressed up more to go to Denton. It was because we kept getting distracted by each other. The sweet and gentle sex opened a floodgate of emotion and eroticism. Neither of us could resist touching or kissing on the other for any length of time.

Once we were dressed, him in a black, banded-collar shirt and his leathers, me in a red shirt and black pants that I had bought that day, we went dancing. He didn't take me where I'd expected, to Empire. He took me down to Cedar Springs and Throckmorton, also known as Oak Lawn, the predominantly gay area of town. We went in and out of the bars and clubs all along the strip. He dragged me into all of them. He seemed to be searching for something and never finding it. We did get to dance but we never stayed in one place long enough to get comfortable. We even spent some time at Sue Ellen's, a lesbian bar, where we were not overly welcome. The whole thing would have annoyed me except that he was being very affectionate. At no point did he ever stop touching me, holding me, kissing me. I felt loved. Because of that, I was more than happy to help him try to find whatever it was he needed.

He didn't settle. We ended up at Reverchon Park before the bars even closed. The park had the normal things, baseball diamonds, playground, etc., but on weekend nights, it became a meat market of epic proportions. The park wasn't that far from where I lived but I never went there. It was a little scary, dangerous, and the sex was free. 

I was a little fidgety and nervous about being there. It was so well known as a pickup spot for gay sex that it just seemed very convenient for gay bashers. I was also fucked out of my mind on X so I kept forgetting to be cautious. I was safe with Eric. Eric wanted me and would take care of me. There were already a lot of people there when we arrived. We parked where everyone else did, in a row along a caliche roadway turned parking lot, and got out and walked the row. Everyone was friendly and I was sure that we weren't the only ones tripping something. There were quite a few guys smoking weed, and we got offered some, but we passed. 

There were a couple of people that greeted Eric by name but I didn't recognize anyone. We meandered up the path, hand in hand, until we got to a car with the hatchback open and music coming from it. There were a few guys standing around, passing a joint.  

"Sheldon," Eric called. 

"Eric." One of the guys leaning on the car stood up and walked over to us. 

"This is my Rain." Eric sidestepped behind me and wrapped his arms around my chest. He was wearing those boots with the heels again and he was easily tall enough to rest his chin on the top of my head, which he did, fucker.

"Nice," Sheldon smiled. "Good to meet you, Eric's Rain."

He held out his hand and I shook it. Sheldon was a nice looking guy in his early forties. He had dark hair, pulled back in a low ponytail which was streaked with gray. He had a quick, friendly smile and softly hooded eyes. I couldn't tell if he was high or drunk or if it was just the way he looked. He was wearing all black clothes and silver jewelry, the principal piece being a pentacle on a leather thong around his neck. He also had the softest hands I had ever touched. I spent a lot of time with things on my hands that softened them, lube, lotion, semen, and I didn't, exactly, do any heavy lifting or anything, but my hands were nowhere near as soft as his.

"It's nice to meet you too," I replied. "Thank you for being there for Eric."

His eye widened in surprise. "He told you about that?"

"Yes," I said. "I wish he'd talked to me instead of someone else but I appreciate that you gave him good advice."

"You're very welcome," he smiled. "How are you feeling?"

"Good." I smirked, "Phenomenal, actually."

"I have to admit, you're not what I expected," he told me. "When he said he was hurting you, I expected you to be a twink. I think you're taller than I am."

I laughed and I could hear the rumble of Eric's chuckle behind me. "Honestly, he's just enormous."

"Holy fuck," Eric bitched and thumped me on the head. "Did you just say that?"

Sheldon looked shocked but I grinned and winked at him. He caught on to the game pretty quick. "Really?" he drawled. "How big?"

"I haven't measured it yet," I smirked. "But it's got to be twelve by four, minimum."

"Wow." Sheldon gave a low whistle. "What's that feel like?"

"Seriously," Eric grumbled. "Stop."

"Heaven," I breathed and Eric slapped his hand over my mouth to stop me from saying anything more. Sheldon and I were both laughing at Eric's discomfort. 

"Are you going to stop now?" Eric asked me.

I nodded and he removed his hand. I turned around to face him. "You have a magnificent cock, Eric. Surely you're not embarrassed?"

"I'm not the slightest bit embarrassed," he bristled. "I will whip it out right now and fuck you right here."

"Oh goody!" Sheldon exclaimed. "A show!"

Eric glared at both of us and turned and walked off.

"Well shit." I smirked at Sheldon. "That was fun. Thanks for playing but I gotta go."

He smiled. "Go get him, Tiger."

"You're not really mad are you?" I asked when I caught up to Eric.

"No." He grinned at me. "Who would get mad about his lover glorifying his dick?"

"I wasn't exaggerating, Eric," I grinned. "I think those dimensions are right. Or, at least, close."

"Maybe we'll measure it to find out," he suggested.

"You never have?"

He shook his head. "Never cared. It wasn't like I was going to put it on my resume."

"I thought all guys did it," I grinned. "So if you're not mad, why are we leaving?"

"I'm not mad." He leered at me. "But I'm horny as fuck."

"What happened to the idea of fucking me right here?" I taunted.

He shook his head. "Need lube." He stopped walking. "What does it feel like?"

I smiled. "Amazing."



Rain Falls Ch. 06



I slept for exactly four hours before I woke up. I didn't need a clock to know how long I had been asleep. It's what always happened to me when I took ecstasy. I would crash hard, sleep for four hours, and then I was AWAKE awake. There wasn't a chance in hell that I could go back to sleep. I wanted to get up, move, go, go, go. Luckily, Eric had been content to let me sleep on top of him so, thankfully, I wasn't trapped. He still whimpered in his sleep when I crawled out of his embrace, which I thought was adorable, even if somewhat heartbreaking.

I went downstairs and poked around in the kitchen. I wanted to make Eric breakfast but the extent of my culinary skills was pretty limited. I knew how to work a can opener and I could scramble eggs. And what I meant by scrambled eggs was that I didn't know how to keep from breaking the yolk when I cracked the egg into the skillet. But Eric didn't have eggs. All he had was ingredients, frozen stuff, raw stuff. I didn't know what to do with any of that. He did have coffee and a coffee maker. I could make coffee, right? Apparently not. I followed the instructions on the can but nothing was happening. I was still staring at the coffeepot when Eric walked into the kitchen.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"It's not working," I grumbled.

"Don't tell me that." He started examining the coffeemaker. "I live on this stuff."

I stepped back to let him try to figure out the problem. After a few seconds of having his hands on the infernal machine he accusingly growled at me, "Did you put hot water in this?"

"Yes."

"Holy fuck, Rain. Cold water. Don't you know how to make coffee?"

"Umm. No?" I flushed in embarrassment.

"How the fuck do you not know how to make coffee?" he groused, taking the machine apart and dumping the water out. "It won't perk if the water is already hot."

"I'm sorry," I told him. "It should say that."

He spun the coffee maker around and, on the back, it clearly said 'Warning: Do not add hot water.'

"Well shit," I groaned. "I never learned any of this shit. I didn't have a kitchen until a year ago. And the one that I have isn't really worth the title."

"Never?" His expression was one of surprise and concern. It was that touch of pity that I hated so much. 

I sighed. I had to get this over with eventually. It was as good of a time as any. "When I was little I had a good foster mother. Mama Kay. She was good to us. There were four foster kids with her but she got busted dealing and went to jail so we were all farmed out to other homes. I was eight or so. I spent the next couple of years in a really bad place until I couldn't take it anymore. I split. I was ten. When I got picked up they didn't believe me about how bad it was so I was labeled as a troubled kid. Only the worst kinds of foster homes would take me. I kept running away. Every time I got picked up on the street they would send me someplace new. The last time I already told you about. I've been on my own since then. I guess they figured that I was a lost cause and stopped looking for me."

"Well, we'll add basic kitchen skills to our list of things that you need," he said as he started the coffee brewing. To give him credit, when he turned back to me, he didn't have a shred of pity on his face. I was grateful.

"I just wanted to make you breakfast," I pouted and he grinned.

"Breakfast isn't something that I do very often so I don't have much here. We'll need to go shopping if you want breakfast foods. If you're hungry right now I can make biscuits and gravy again," he offered.

"Would you show me how?"

He chuckled. "I'm cheating. The biscuits are already made." He turned the oven on, set it to broil, and pulled something encased in aluminum foil out of the freezer. I watched him carefully as he sliced four frozen biscuits, fried some crumbled breakfast sausage and made cream gravy. He toasted the biscuit halves, added the cooked sausage to the gravy, then he poured it on top of the plated biscuits. He made it all look easy as hell. We ate standing up in the kitchen. He had a table but it was covered in discarded pieces of mannequin anatomy.

"I need to clean this place up." he said, glancing around at the disarray. "I'm getting the itch to work but not on this."

"I'll help," I volunteered. I couldn't cook but I could lift and carry.

"Thanks."

We spent the next couple of hours cleaning and stacking the miscellaneous parts and pieces by the door until the warehouse resembled an apartment-slash-workshop, if you ignored the body parts stacked up like firewood. 

He sighed at the pile and gathered some of it up. "Come on," he said, picking up his keys.

I filled my arms and followed him out the door. We walked around the building to the back of the parking lot where he set his load down on the ground and pushed aside the honeysuckle vines hanging over the fence to reveal a gate. He unlocked it and opened it, gathered up his pile again and stepped through. I followed. 

I had never noticed the gate before but, in the year that I had been coming to his place, only the last few days had been during the daylight. We stepped into a small courtyard area with a metal shed. He unlocked the shed while I stared at the monolith in the center of the twenty foot square courtyard. 

"What is this?" I asked.

"It's my mausoleum," he informed me.

"No," I responded. "This."

He turned from the shed and glanced over the unfinished statue that had me fixated. It was probably eight feet tall and carved from white marble with black and gray veins running through it. Though incomplete, the design was clear. It was a demon with a human in his arms almost completely obscured by the membranous wings of the demon. They were face to face and the demon was either kissing or biting the neck of the human in his embrace. The human had long hair but, in its rough state, the face was androgynous. 

"A very expensive piece of trash," he scowled.

"It's beautiful, Eric," I breathed. 

"It's Vallejo," he replied.

"Val-what?"

"Vallejo," he explained. "Boris Vallejo is a painter. The further that I got into this the more it looked like Vallejo to me."

"Why didn't you finish it?"

He reached out and ran his fingertips over the marble. "Being influenced by someone else's work is one thing. Outright mimicry is not acceptable. Vallejo's work is beautiful but it's not me." He dropped his arm. "Sometimes I do things that just aren't me."

I managed to peel my eyes from the sculpture in order to focus on Eric. "Of course they're you. They have to be. They come from you so they are part of you. Maybe it's just not the parts that you're accustomed to."

He took the body parts from my arms and stacked them in the shed with many other discarded incomplete works. I scanned the mess of forgotten art. "Does anything ever get revived?"

He shook his head. "Not yet."

"Well, I'll think of this as a mortuary instead of a mausoleum in the hopes that one day something will find this to only be a temporary resting place." I glanced longingly at the statue. For some reason I ached to see it finished.

Eric smirked at me. "Very few things come out a mortuary alive either."

"Maybe not," I grinned. "But they still come out."

Back inside, I surveyed the room. The front portion of the warehouse was setup as a workshop. There was a table saw and other tools that I couldn't readily identify. The walls were lined with tables and cabinets that I had no idea what they held, I had never looked in them. There was even a cabinet that had all these little drawers, like something you would find in an apothecary shop, but I had never looked in them either. The back portion of the cavernous space, next to the kitchen, was more like a living room. It held a very comfortable cushy black leather couch and a couple of recliners, a coffee table, and a really nice stereo system in a cabinet. There was also a huge drafting table in the living area.

Eric had an easel but, in the time that I had known him, I had only seen a canvas on it once. He usually worked in three-dimensions. He worked in all kinds of mediums, wood, metal, plastic, and, apparently, marble, but only seemed to do paintings or drawings on commission. His work was dark and haunting, sometimes outright gory, but it always had a touch of eroticism to it. 

Seeing the mausoleum, or mortuary, made me curious. "How long have you lived here?"

"Three years." He turned on the stereo and flipped through his music collection.

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-six."

"Where did you live before here?"

"Mass Art," he replied, pulling out an album then changing his mind and putting it back.

"What?"

"Massachusetts College of Art and Design. Boston."

"You went to college?"

"Yes."

"Cool," I grinned. "Where are you from?"

"Here." He settled on a record and loaded it on the turntable. "Plano," he clarified, naming the affluent town twenty miles north of Dallas. The wailing sound of Bauhaus 'In The Flat Field' started playing softly.

"Siblings?" I continued my line of questions. He was answering and I didn't know if he'd ever be in the mood to be forthcoming again.

"No."

"Parents?"

"Still in Plano." His eyes narrowed. "Have we hit twenty yet?"

"No," I smirked. "That was six."

"I count eight," he corrected.

I thought back. He must have been including the non-questions, unless he was counting the stuff from outside. Either way, I knew that I was pushing it. "That still gives me twelve more."

He sighed, overly dramatically. "Fine. Go."

"What is..." I started but was interrupted by the muffled ringing of a phone. I was stunned into silence because I didn't realize he had a phone. I knew that he had given the clerk at Lobos a phone number but I had never seen or heard one before. Of course he had a phone. Only the dirt poor didn't have phones.

"Ah!" he smirked. "Saved by the bell!" He flipped the arm of the couch open, exposing a hidden compartment and answered the phone. "Lo?" He glanced at me with the receiver stuck to his ear and an odd expression on his face. "Hey. What's up?" Turning his back to me, he continued his conversation. I got the hint and went to the kitchen for more coffee. I could still hear him perfectly. "Nothing. Just cleaning up around here... It's not really a good time. I was about to go run some errands... Shopping, laundry. Domestic shit..." He chuckled, "For real." There was a long pause while the other person talked. "Later, ok?... Yeah. I'll call you... Me too... Yes... Ok. Bye." He hung up and came into the kitchen. "Want to go shower with me?" He wiggled his eyebrows at me.

I was dying to ask who it was but I didn't. It was too intrusive. "I still have twelve questions," I reminded him.

"You can ask them later," he suggested. "I want to play a different game now."

We tried to shower together but, with his hulking mass, it just didn't work. There was no maneuverability room. 

"That's it," he growled. "I'm moving."

I laughed. "It would be easier to remodel the bathroom."

"Is there a real bathtub at your place?" he asked, hopefully.

"Yes." I blanched at the idea of taking him there. "But the water doesn't get hot."

"Fuck," he grumbled. "I just want to shower with you."

I stood up on my toes to kiss him on the nose. "Some other time. I'm going to get out and use the shower when you're done."

He growled his displeasure but didn't try to stop me. By the time he got out of the shower he wasn't in the mood to play anymore. I showered, got dressed, and found him downstairs. He'd changed the album and was now listening to The Cramps. 

"Did you really want to go shopping?" I asked.

"Yes," he replied, removing the record. "Are you ready?"

Eric slid the huge door shut while I checked out his delicious body. I was a little antsy from the unfulfilled implied promise of sex and hoped that he'd be back in the mood when we returned. We were walking across the small parking lot inside the fenced in property when a car pulled up at the gate. We both looked up and I heard Eric vehemently curse under his breath. A woman got out of the car, stepped to the keypad, and entered the code. The gate clanked open. She knew the code. I didn't even know it.

She got back in her car and drove it just inside the gate and then stopped. She turned off the engine as the gate rattled closed. Even though there was room for five cars to park comfortably, six if you packed them in tightly, she parked blocking the gate. Eric strolled over to her car as she got out again.

"Irish, what are you doing here?" he asked.

"You said that you weren't busy." Her voice was sultry, much like the rest of her. She was classically beautiful and tall for a girl, about my height, but she was wearing heels. She had honey-blonde, waist length hair and a slim, knockout figure that was on display. Her clothing was all black and appeared to be painted on. Her nails were long and painted black and the only jewelry that she wore was a silver chain around her waist, riding low on her hips.

"I said that I'd call you later," Eric replied.

"Don't be an ass, Love," she chastised and sidled up to his body. "I've missed you."

Eric's countenance seemed to soften at the touch of her body. He wrapped his arms around her in a hug that was entirely too familiar for my liking. I rested my arms on the roof of his car over the passenger door and tapped on the metal, just to make my presence known.

Eric's back visibly stiffened at the noise and he disentangled himself from her and stepped a half step back. "I was on my way to the store." 

She seemed genuinely taken aback at the blatant brush-off. "You can go later."

He shook his head. "You know how I get when I'm working. I like to have food here. I don't like to have to leave when I'm in the middle of something and you know no one will deliver down here."

"Are you working?" 

He shook his head. "Soon. Tonight, maybe."

"Then we have some time," she suggested.

"I'd really like to get started, Irish. Can I just call you later?"

She was obviously disappointed but she didn't fight it. "When you take a break, call me. I want to see you."

"I will," he promised.

He helped her back into her car and leaned in the driver's window. His body completely obscured my view but I could have sworn that he kissed her. I spent the time that she backed out of the gate trying to get a handle on my emotions. I kept trying to convince myself that he would not have kissed her. Not while I was standing right there, at least. But I wasn't buying it. Neither one of them had even acknowledged my existence.

After she left Eric unlocked the car and we got in. He just sat there, white knuckling the steering wheel, not looking at me, like he was waiting for something. 

"What is your favorite movie?" I asked.

"What?" he snapped at me, confused.

"I still have twelve questions," I reminded him. "What's your favorite movie?"

He stared at me like I had lost my marbles. His lips slowly turned up in a smirk. "Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory." He started the car and pulled out of the gate.

"Seriously?" I laughed. "No! Don't answer that. It's not a question."

"Sounded like a question," he teased. "I distinctly heard a question mark."

"No," I lied. "It was an exclamation point. I figured it would be The Hunger or something."

"No, but Catherine Deneuve is much hotter than Gene Wilder," he grinned.

"So is Peter Murphy," I sighed.

He chuckled. "And you claim that you're not gay."

"I never claimed that," I argued. "I just don't make any declarations of my sexuality. I never gave it any serious thought. I'm not sure that I identify either way."

"Well, someday you're going to have to make a decision," he stated.

"Why?" I asked. "Why do I have to choose? I don't see why it's so important. Can't I just be me?"

Eric didn't respond so I moved on to my next question. "Are you allergic to anything?"

"Babies," he smirked. I laughed and he added, "No, really. I break out in hives if someone tries to force me to hold one." We pulled into the parking lot of a good sized store that was only a couple of blocks from his place. It was easily walking distance and I made a note to remember its location. Although, walking through that neighborhood with full hands would not have been a very smart thing to do.

"What's your favorite food?"

He turned the car into a parking space at the grocery store before responding. He turned to me and his eyes were heavy with lust. "You," he husked.

My breath hitched as my body flushed with desire. "You couldn't have done this before we left?"

He laced his fingers behind my neck and pulled me across the seat into a mind-numbing kiss. He broke off, leaving me gasping for air. "Groceries," I croaked.

He smirked. How he could remain so seemingly unaffected by that liplock I would never understand. "Groceries," he agreed and got out of the car.

I, basically, tagged along behind him in the store, my psyche in turmoil. I hadn't been in a situation where I was teased and keep wanting in years. The last time had actually been with Melissa. She was a good girl and I had never been able to convince her to give it up. It was disturbing me on a level that I couldn't have fathomed. The phone call and encounter with the woman at his place didn't help. I had no reason for the way I was feeling but it didn't stop it from happening. I feared that I was the only one in this relationship that wanted to be there. I was terrified that, against all odds, I was falling for him, but I was making the trip all by myself. Every time he smiled at me, touched me, kissed me, made love to me, I fell that much more. I had the sinking feeling, deep inside, that I was going to get destroyed.

Upon our return, we unloaded the groceries and put them away. Then he took me upstairs and laid to rest all of my fears and worries. Until I woke up alone.

It was dark but there was a light and music playing softly downstairs. I leaned over the railing but couldn't see Eric. Silent in my bare feet, I padded down the stairs. He was at the drafting table with his back to the stairwell. Recalling what he'd told me about being interrupted, I didn't call out for him. I came up behind him and tried to peer over his shoulder. I thought that I had been quiet but he knew that I was there.

"You can look if you want," he offered without taking his concentration off the table.

I stepped up beside the large, slanted desk top and he pushed a pencil drawing toward me. He was working on a different sheet so I wasn't worried about keeping it too long. The page held six sketches, all of them of us in various sexual positions. The first three were all the same scene, of me kneeling between his spread knees servicing him, from different angles. One from his point of view, one from the side, one from slightly above and behind my head. They were extremely detailed considering they were each only about four inches square. The way he was sitting, with one arm draped on top of the backrest of the couch, brought to mind the first time we had ever been together. In the drawing, he was nude but in reality he had been fully dressed. 

I remembered the night like it was yesterday. I had joined a group of people as they headed for Eric's place after getting tired of clubbing. It was one of the very rare instances when Eric invited people to his home. I didn't know Eric at the time but I knew of him. I had seen him around a lot but we had never spoken. He was a hot commodity and all of the girls, and some of the guys, made a sport out of drooling over him. I wasn't one of them. 

It's not that I didn't think he was gorgeous. I wasn't blind. I was a realist. I knew better than to waste my time wishing for something that would never be mine. Life was hard enough without me making it harder on myself. That being said, I went with the group strictly because they were going to Eric's. So, I wasn't completely immune to his charms.




Rain Falls Ch. 06



The party lasted through the night. It was after dawn before I went to the bathroom and came down the stairs to discover that the last guest, and my last chance for a ride, had left. I resigned myself to walking and headed towards the open door.

"Rain?" Eric softly called my name and I stopped half in and half out of the open warehouse door. He was sitting on the couch, just like in the drawing, with a glass of red wine in his hand. "Is that really your name?"

His voice was low and melodic. I loved the way it sounded but it made me a tad jealous. He was successful, beautiful, I assumed wealthy, and he had a great voice too. "Yes."

"I have a problem," he said, which I doubted. "I hear that you're a pro at solving these kinds of things."

There was only one kind of 'problem' that I solved professionally. I scanned his body. He was seated on the same plush couch that he still had so I couldn't easily tell if he had the kind of problem that I knew how to remedy. "I wouldn't think that you had the need for a pro."

"Need... Want... Six of one..." He took a drink from his stemmed wine glass without breaking eye contact. "What's the rate?"

"C," I advised, sure that he'd back down. Every girl that I knew wanted him. He didn't need to pay me.

He nodded once and set his glass on the coffee table. "Close the door."

He didn't fuck me that night. I just gave him head. After that night, I would see him about once a month. He would pay me one for oral and three for sex. Truthfully, it should have been the other way around. It was much easier for me to take him anally than orally. 

The three other images on the page I was holding were all doggie-style but, in one, I had my upper body on the seat of the couch, in another, I had my head down, resting on my arms on the floor, the third, I was on all fours. The page that he was working on contained more of the same. There was one of us with me face down, flat on the floor, with him on top, one in missionary with my legs around his waist, one with me riding him, one of us in sixty-nine, and one with both of us upright on our knees, my back to his front. At first I thought they were memories but, as I looked over at the one he was working on, I realized that we had never been in that particular position. It was of me riding reverse, with both of us sitting, I assumed, on the couch.

"What are you doing?" I whispered.

"Just putting thoughts on paper," he replied in a normal speaking voice. 

"We haven't done that yet," I pointed out.

He looked up at me for the first time. His eyes scanned my naked and semi-aroused state. He smirked. "You're right." He arched his eyebrows suggestively at me. "Wanna?"

"Oh yeah."

I awoke to the sound of the door sliding open. Eric was coming in, carrying wide, flat pieces of wood.

"Do you need help?" I offered.

He set down the wood and grinned at me. "No. I got it. You stay right where you are. You're a vision just like that."

I had fallen asleep on the couch after a not-so-brief interlude and Eric had gone back to the drafting table. I arched and stretched my back. His couch was more comfortable than my bed. He watched me, with his head slightly tilted and a smirk on his face. 

"Tempting." He shook his head as if to clear it. "Very tempting." Then he went back out the door and carried in more wood. There were eight pieces of wood, in total, all about six foot long and four foot wide. He set them in a rack and then came over to sit on the edge of the couch. "Now. It's eight o'clock. How do we go about getting a copy of your birth certificate?"

"Eight?" I asked. "Did you sleep at all?"

"No."

"Are you fucked up?"

"No," he grinned. "Just high on life. This happens when I'm caught up in a project. It's my normal, Baby. Don't fret."

"Are you caught up in a project?"

"Not yet," he replied. "I want to give the cherry time to acclimate. It was dried inside but I don't want to stress it."

"None of what you just said makes any sense," I admitted.

He chuckled, "The wood, Baby. I'm letting it adjust to the climate in here before I start working it."

"Is that important?"

"It can be," he told me. "Probably not in this case but I don't want to add more victims to the mausoleum."

"Mortuary," I corrected him and he chuckled again.

"If you say so." He grinned good naturedly. "I don't want you to get your heart set on it, Baby. It's probably never coming out of there."

"Probably means there's still a chance," I pointed out.

He skimmed his fingertips down my smooth chest. "Why do you want me to finish it so much?" he asked, his fingers circling my belly button.

"It's beautiful, Eric."

"Lots of things are beautiful," he countered, letting his fingers continue on their downward path.

My breath hitched as he lightly drew his fingers down my length. "Suck my cock, Eric."

"Hmm," he smirked. "Getting all dominant on me, are you?"

"Please," I added.

He laughed. "I liked it, Rain. Don't be afraid to tell me what you want."

"I want you to suck my cock, Eric. Please."

He slid down the couch and pushed one of my feet onto the floor. Then he leaned over between my spread legs and swallowed my entire length without even getting it wet first. I love blowjobs. I get lost in the feeling of a warm wet mouth around me, the sensation of being caressed by the strong slick tongue, and, if I'm sensitive enough I think that I can feel the slightly rough texture across my head. I even enjoy the occasional reminder of teeth. I love getting it and I love giving it. The first time I willingly had a cock in my mouth I knew that I was a born cocksucker. It was that good. I was powerful and desirable and needed. Even after all the times I had been on my knees in the years that I was hooking, I was still not indifferent to the rush of power that sucking a man's cock gave me. 

But, having Eric's mouth on me was different than anyone else. I didn't get a great deal of head, hardly any, but I knew that Eric had less experience giving it than I did getting it. I could have given him pointers but I didn't. While he didn't have the skill that comes with practice, he had a great deal of enthusiasm. He enjoyed using his mouth on me as much as I did. Admittedly, some of my pleasure was just the tactile but, a majority of my pleasure was from watching him, knowing it was him.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Eric," I gasped. "You are so fucking sexy."

His eyes locked with mine and he almost grinned around my shaft. I threaded my fingers in his thick hair but didn't try to force him. I just needed to touch him. His tongue was snaking back and forth across the underside of my dick while his lips slid up and down the length. At the top of the upstroke he'd circle around my glans and at the down stroke he'd push me down his throat and swallow, massaging my head with his throat muscles. He was making me insane with the need to come and the desire to make it last forever.

I started to climb. I was losing all control as I clutched at his hair and the leather of the couch cushions. "I'm gonna come," I warned him but he already knew. He always knew.

He didn't stop. He didn't drag out my torture by delaying my orgasm. He loved to make me come. He swallowed every drop of my seed and sucked on me until he was sure that he got it all. Then he crawled over my spent body and kissed me passionately, sharing my essence with me.

"Are you hungry?" he asked.

"Yes," I panted. "For you."

He grinned. "Later. I mean breakfast."

"No?" He didn't want to come? I was dumbfounded.

"I know this doesn't make sense to you but I need the sexual tension. It's driving me right now. As soon as I'm happy with the design, it's on. Ok?"

"You're right." I sighed. "It doesn't make sense but I don't want to do anything that might take away your muse. I like you happy like this." I ran my fingers through his luxurious hair.

"Having you naked and in my arms makes me happy." He smiled at me.

"That's the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me," I told him.

He smiled again and crawled off me. "Come on." He held out his hand to assist me upright. "You need to cover that pert little ass or I'm going to be distracted by it. Why don't you go shower and dress and I'll make some breakfast."

I took his advice and, when I came back downstairs, he was back at the drafting table with a cup of coffee and a cigarette. "Did you eat?"

"Yes." He didn't look up from his work. "It's in the kitchen. Help yourself and then make some calls to find out how we go about getting your birth certificate."

Turns out, not so easy. I was advised by social services that I would have to go to Austin and apply for it in person. After that, there would be a six to eight week wait for it.

"No problem," Eric mumbled when I informed him. "After I finish this, and get some sleep, we can head down. It's only a three hour drive."

The two pages from the night before had multiplied. There were at least a dozen pages now, all of the same theme. A lot of the drawings were of the same act as seen from multiple points of view. "Can I ask?"

"Yes," he replied without looking up.

"Why are you doing the same scene from different angles?"

"Perspective, Baby," he corrected. "I'm trying to find the right perspective for the image to say what I want it to."

"What are you trying to say?"

"What do you see?" he answered my question with a question. Usually that annoyed me but, in this case, I wondered if he was insecure.

"Passion," I replied. 

He looked up at me and smiled. "Good."

"Eric? Tell me to shut up and butt out if you want. I won't be offended. I know nothing about this but I had an idea."

"What's your idea?"

"Maybe this would be easier if we setup a mirror," I suggested.

"That wouldn't bother you?" He seemed trepidatious.

My mouth turned up in a half smirk. "I'm a guy. Don't all guys like to watch?"

He grinned at that. "I just don't want to turn what we are together into a project."

I held up several of the sheets of sketches. "Little late for that."

His brow furrowed. "It's not like that. I don't want you to feel like I'm using you."

"I don't," I assured him. "I'm actually quite proud. It's quite a compliment that I'm inspiring you like this. Unless you start wanting to dismember me. I'd have to draw the line there."

He laughed. "I don't think you have to worry about that. I like your body parts right where they are."

"Me too."

"Well, I'll keep the suggestion in mind." He turned back to the table. "I don't have a mirror that big but I can get one if I need to."

"Even if you don't need to," I responded. "It could still be fun."

He groaned and dropped his head onto the table. "Go away," he mumbled into the crook of his arm. "You're making me dicksick."

I walked away with a self-satisfied smile.

Eric spent the rest of the day at the drafting table and I did laundry. The washer and drier were in the mortuary. I discovered, when I got inside it, what I thought was a metal shed, was actually a brick shed with siding. It was odd. Who puts siding on brick? Either way, the building was probably an oven in the heat of the summer. The machine only had cold water but that was fine. I didn't mind washing my clothes in cold. It also gave me a chance to poke around in the discarded art. Along with the mannequin parts that we had stacked in there, it held an assortment of other mediums, glass, stone, wood, and plaster molds. There were no canvases but that didn't surprise me. What did shock me was that everything that seemed to make it into the shed was sensual, erotic, and gentle. None of it, with the exception of the stuff we had added the day before, was violent. It was as if Eric had been trying to capture love but was always disappointed when he did. I wondered if the project that he was working on would find its way into the shed.

After I did my laundry, and Eric's, I stripped the bed and washed the bedding. I also cleaned the kitchen and the bathroom before I ran out of stuff to do. If I had been at home, at this point I would have gone out or read a book, if it was raining. Eric didn't seem to have any books. He didn't have a television either. I went and sat down on the couch.

After an hour or so Eric looked up. "Are you bored? You have to be bored. Why don't you go out?"

"Without you?" I asked.

"If you like."

"Where would I go?"

"Anywhere," he replied. "Take my car."

I laughed. "And do what with it? I can't drive."

"I know you don't have a license but I trust you. Just don't get pulled over."

"That's exactly what would happen, Eric," I smirked. "I can't drive."

"Not at all?" His eyes narrowed in confusion. "How is that possible?"

"I've never had a car," I explained. "Or access to one. I get the idea, break, accelerator, steering wheel, but I have no practical application."

He glared at me playfully. "I'm going to have to write this list down. It keeps growing."

I shrugged.

"What would you like to be doing?"

"Reading," I admitted. "You don't have any books."

"Oh but I do!" he exclaimed and got off his stool. I followed him into the kitchen and he pulled a cookbook out of the pantry. "Here."

"This is a cookbook," I snickered.

"Consider it a homework assignment," he suggested. "It's your first lesson on cooking."

I grinned at him and took the cookbook to the couch. It was one of those white and red checkered, Better Homes and Gardens ones and I guessed it to be about twenty years old. Sure enough, when I opened it, it was dated 1965. It actually had a lot of good information in it. It had conversion charts and explanations of techniques. There was a section on meal planning and nutrition. It had tips and tricks to organizing a kitchen. It even had instructions on how to chop, slice, boil, stuff, baste, and, test. There was even a glossary of terms. 

It also had recipes, of course. It made cooking seem easy instead of the dangerous chemistry experiment that I had thought of it as. It inspired me to get up and see what I could make for dinner. A lot of the recipes were for baking and canning and candy making. I skipped that stuff. I was just looking for something basic. I found a recipe for scalloped potatoes. It looked pretty easy. It only had seven ingredients and the first five were a sauce that you poured over the last two. I could do that. It took me about ten minutes to make the sauce. It took me longer to find the measuring cup and spoons and peel and slice the potatoes. I had it baking in the oven in hardly any time at all. It had to bake for an hour so I moved on. 

The only meat that Eric had not frozen was pork chops. The book said that all I had to do was brown them in a skillet and then stick them in the oven for an hour. The potatoes were already in there so it was no trouble. So that's what I did. It seemed too simple and I hoped that I didn't poison us. Vegetables seemed too easy too. All I had to do was wash them and heat them. I didn't even have to do that but it didn't seem right to leave them cold. 

So here's how it turned out. The broccoli and cauliflower were done way before anything else and they ended up being a little too soft and too cold. The pork chops were dry but that's probably because the book said I could add water if it was necessary. I didn't think it was so I left it out. I made a note to add it if I ever tried that again. The scalloped potatoes were great. I was proud of myself.

"I can't believe that you did this." Eric looked at his plate.

"Don't get excited until you try it," I warned.

He tasted a little of everything and pronounced it very edible. "I figured you out," he said.

"Oh?"

"Yes," he smirked. "All I have to do is get you books on everything. I'll get you one on driving the next time I'm out."

I ended up going to bed without him, which was weird but didn't prevent me sleeping. I drifted off in Eric's very comfortable bed with the sound of Robert Smith's distant voice at a level just loud enough for me to be able to differentiate between songs.



Rain Falls Ch. 07



When he woke me up it was still dark. 

"Get dressed, Baby." He nudged me. "We're going to Austin."

"Now?" I grumbled. "What time is it?"

"Five-ish," he replied. "It will be easier to get out of town before rush hour."

"Did you sleep?"

"Yes." He rolled off the bed. "A little. I'll be fine."

"Seriously, Eric." I squinted at him accusingly. "Are you on crank?"

"A little," he admitted.

"Well, shit," I groused and climbed out of bed, defeated. There was no way that I'd convince him to sleep if he was doing speed. "The least you could do is share."

"Do you want some go, Baby?"

I looked down at my body as I padded toward the bathroom, wondering if my oft abused system could handle the stress. "Yes," I yawned.

"Ok." He followed me into the bathroom. "After you eat something."

"Did you eat?" I asked, emptying my bladder.

"A little," he smirked and left me to my morning routine.

I speculated on how he managed to keep his body looking like that with the rate that he was going. He hardly ate, slept less, and did uppers. It was always such a fight for me to try to prevent my body from becoming grossly emaciated. The way he was living had to take its toll on his body too.

He served me an omelet, which I ate out of reflex, not even paying attention to what it was stuffed with. I was half asleep and trying to focus on what he was doing. Crank was so unstable that street people didn't mess with it so I didn't have much experience with it. He removed an aluminum foil wrapped package from the freezer and opened it. It was full of blue drying crystals. Buried in the rocks were tiny ziplock bags full of an off-white, chunky, powder. He took a mirrored placemat, the kind with the little rubber feet, off the top of the fridge and chopped up two lines for me. As soon as he was ready, I set my plate down. I hadn't finished the omelet but I knew that I had very little time. The drug would start to melt very quickly. I snorted both lines and then stuck my fingertips under the faucet. Bringing my wet fingertips to my nose, I inhaled the water droplets, trying to quench the searing fire in my sinuses. 

"Feel the burn," I quipped and rolled my eyes. The taste coated the back of my throat and mouth almost instantly. The taste of crank wasn't as bad as ecstasy but it was harder to get rid of. The taste of coke wasn't as bad as crank but coke numbed your throat and it was impossible to get rid of. I had convinced myself that whoever invented Jolly Ranchers was a cokehead.

The other thing about crystal, the other reason it wasn't as popular as coke among the street rats, it didn't make you fuzzy. It made everything clear and sharp. In my opinion, it didn't make me feel like I was on drugs. It just made me feel AWAKE. Cocaine made me feel invincible and euphoric. Ecstasy was really my poison of choice. It gave me tracers and the same general happiness of cocaine but with the added bonus of amplifying all of my senses. Every sound, sight, and touch was intense and surreal. Pot brought me down gently and provided me with the serenity that I often couldn't find on my own. I stayed away from heroin. I'd seen too many people die on the nod. I had almost no experience with pills. They weren't that common on the street, or possibly, they weren't shared as much. They only time I took drugs was if someone gave them to me. I had never paid for them myself and I wasn't about to start.

After cleaning the kitchen, we headed out. Eric picked up an overnight bag on our way out the door. "What's that?" I asked.

"I figured we'd stay the night. Austin can be fun."

"What about your project?"

"I'm in a holding pattern," he explained. "I want to give the wood more time."

"How long does that take?"

"A few weeks to dry it completely but it was already dried indoors. I'm very careful about where I get my supplies. I want to be sure of what I'm working with. I destroy enough of my work on my own. It really pisses me off when I lose something to shoddy material. Sometimes it can't be helped. There will be flaws in the wood or stone that aren't apparent until you get into it. If you get lucky, those flaws can add to the beauty of the piece, if not, they can destroy the whole thing. If I bring home something that gets ruined because I didn't examine it carefully enough I feel like I deserve what I got. If my work is ruined because the material wasn't handled properly in the first place, it makes me homicidal."

"Can't you eliminate the possibility by doing all the prep work yourself?"

"Yes. In theory," he replied. "It's not very economical. If I only worked in one medium it would make more sense. I could haunt the quarry or the mill yard. I would need a lot more space for storage and it would cause more forced delays on my projects, but it could be done."

I remained quiet until we passed through downtown and got underway on I-35. "Do you ever read?"

Eric visibly flinched. "What number are we at?"

"I have ten left." I smirked at his grimace. "I find it completely fascinating that you can talk about your work all day long but the second I ask anything personal, you panic."

"Not panic," he argued. "I just don't like talking about myself."

"Why not?" I asked.

"If I answer that it counts," he warned.

"Ok. But answer the reading question first."

"I don't read very often and, when I do, it's non-fiction."

"How boring," I opined. "I read to escape life. The last thing I have any interest in doing is reading about reality."

He smirked. "I don't like to talk about myself because it makes me feel like people are just looking for a reason to disagree with you. They're searching for flaws or chinks in the armor."

"I'm not," I told him. "I'm just trying to learn things about you."

"What good does it do you to know if I like to read?" 

"If I wanted to buy you a birthday present I now know not to buy you a mystery novel," I pointed out.

"When is my birthday, Rain?" he asked softly.

I knew that he was trying to prove his point but I wasn't going to let him think that about me. "I haven't gotten to that question yet," I told him. "I'm saving that one for later."

"Why?"

"Because it's very generic and it's possible that I can learn that without wasting a precious free question on it," I explained. "It's like asking your favorite color or food. I could learn those by careful observation. I've only got eight more questions and I want to use them to learn as much about you as possible."

"You asked me my favorite food," he pointed out.

"That's because I hardly see you eat. Besides, you didn't really answer."

"Sure I did." He smiled at my raised eyebrow. "Ok. Coffee ice cream," he smirked. "Quid-pro-quo."

"You can ask me anything you like. I will always answer you to the best of my ability," I promised.

"What's your favorite movie?" he asked.

"Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid."

He laughed, "They die!"

"I know," I sighed. "Life sucks and then you die. They went out with flair though."

"I was always sure that they had a three-way going on with that chick," he remarked which made me laugh.

"It was a common theme," I replied. "Did you ever see Paint Your Wagon?"

"No."

"It's a musical starring Clint Eastwood. It's about the debauchery of gold miners," I told him. "The two main characters buy and share a wife."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" he laughed. "My mother loves that movie."

"We didn't invent sex, Eric," I teased. "Your parents had sex at least once."

"Ack!" he exclaimed. "Stop or I'll make you run alongside the car."

"Eric Unger is a prude?" I taunted.

"No," he chuckled. "I just don't need that worm planted in my head. The last thing I want is for that thought to pop up the next time I get you into bed."

"Ok," I snickered. "I'll stop. I guess I lucked out. I never have that particular worry."

"What's your favorite book?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Too many to name," I replied.

"Pick something," he suggested. "I'll keep in mind that it's one of many."

"Interview with a Vampire," I said. "By Anne Rice."

"A vampire story?" he grinned. "And you complain about the biting."

I grinned. "It's about vampires but it's more about the homoerotic relationship between the two main characters."

"Homoerotic?" he chuckled.

"Yeah. The main guy, Louis, is straight but the guy who turns him, Lestat, is so obviously in love with him. Only, Louis is this tortured soul that never figures out that Lestat is desperately in love with him. He thinks Lestat is just psycho crazy."

"Sounds like a tragedy," he commented.

"It is, in a way."

"So, no happy endings for you, huh?" he joked.

I shook my head. "Life doesn't really work that way."

He chuckled. "I thought you were reading to get away from real life."

"Yes but... MY life," I explained. "I prefer my escapism to be realistic. Suspension of disbelief and all that. I need to be able to get into a story. Get invested. And in real life there are no happy endings."

He glanced at me before returning his attention to the road. "There can be." 

"If I ask about your parents does it count?" I asked.

"I guess not."

"Good." I smiled. "Do you get along with them?"

"I'm pretty sure that's about me," he smirked.

"It's borderline."

"Ok. I'll let it slide." He paused, thinking. "I love them. They're pretty cool, as parents go. I didn't have all the trouble with them that other kids had with theirs. So, yes. I get along with them."

"What do they do?"

"My dad is a lawyer. My mom is an OBGYN."

"Wow," I breathed. "You said that you were from Plano. I guessed that your parents had money but fuck. A doctor and a lawyer?"

"My mom comes from family money. She didn't have to work but she chose to anyway. Having money doesn't really makeup for being absent." 

I didn't know how to respond to that. I wanted to comfort him but, considering where I came from, it seemed ridiculous. 

"They're better now," he went on. "They've calmed down over the years. They aren't so dedicated to their practices. You'd probably like my mom. She's a big reader too."

"Would they like me?" I asked.

"You personally or our relationship?"

"Either... Both."

"They'd like you. You're sweet." He took a breath and let it out. "As far as us? I don't know. They're pretty conservative but not bible thumpers. I'd like to think that they will accept it, eventually."

He'd said 'will' not 'would'. As if it was a forgone conclusion that they would be presented with the issue. Did he had plans to introduce me to his family as his lover? The idea was daunting. It was too soon to be thinking along those lines. We had only been together for five days.

As hyper as I was, leg bouncing, fingers twitching, I didn't want to ask him any more questions. I decided to lean back in the comfy seat and watch the sunrise.

We got into Austin a little after nine. We went straight to the courthouse but it took hours to get to the right people and fill out all the paperwork. Which I had to do twice because the first time I had used my address.

"Use mine," Eric said.

"Why?"

"Because what's the chance that you'll still be living there in eight weeks?"

I wanted to tell him that it was pretty fucking high since I couldn't get any other place with no identification. But I didn't because I knew what he was getting at. He'd only told me to move in with him about fifty times in the last five days. 

"Besides, it's safer. Wouldn't you rather have these documents going someplace that you don't have to worry about them getting lost or stolen?"

"What if we aren't together?" I snapped.

He looked hurt that I would suggest such a thing. "I would still make sure that you got them," he replied. "I wouldn't keep them from you. No matter what happens."

I couldn't fight the logic and I didn't want to see that hurt look in his eyes again. It devastated me that I had put it there. I was crashing and irritable but it didn't excuse what I had said. I found myself wanting to comfort him again but the capitol building was not the place for guy on guy PDA. Instead, I got up and retrieved another copy of the forms to fill them out again.

On our way out of the building we had to stop to look at the structure. Not as a whole, up close and personal. Eric was standing on the grass running his fingers over the granite blocks that made up the building. "This was done by hand," he informed me. "Can you believe that?"

He was referring to the blocks themselves. Each of the huge granite blocks had a border around the perimeter that was smooth as silk. The area inside the border was left rough. Having absolutely no point of reference, I had no idea why that was such a big deal. I just wanted to get out of there. But then, as I said, I was bitchy.

"Do you have any more of that crystal?" I asked once we got in the car.

He shook his head. "Not with us."

"Well fuck," I sighed.

"Are you jonesing?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry, Baby," he said. "I didn't think about it. I just use it as a pick-me-up on occasion. I don't make a habit of it." He looked me over, trying to judge my condition. "I just want to make one stop and then we'll find a hotel and take a nap. Ok?"

We didn't go very far. We went down the block and stopped at a Half Price Books. I grinned at him. "Are you trying to find a driving instruction manual?"

He chuckled. "Something like that." 

We separated in the store. He sent me off to find something to keep me entertained while he worked. I browsed around, steering away from the more erotic stuff that I liked to read. If he was going to cut me off while he was working I didn't need to get myself all hot and bothered. I picked up some sci-fi/fantasy and some suspense.

I had found five books that I wanted and was sitting on the floor in the fantasy section, with books stacked all around me, when Eric found me. 

He squatted down behind me and whispered in my ear. "Are you having fun, Baby?"

I turned my head to see him with a smile on my face. "Yes."

The move brought my lips inches from his and he didn't shy away. He kissed me right there in the middle of the store. It was just a gentle brush of the lips but it was clearly a kiss to anyone who had seen us. He didn't even glance around to see who might be watching first. The sheer bravado of the man constantly floored me. "I'm ready to go anytime you are. I'm not in a hurry though. Take your time."

"No." I gathered up my choices and put the rest back in their proper homes on the shelves. "I'm done. Let's go lay down."

He arched his eyebrow suggestively. "I like the sound of that."

We got to the counter and I chanced a look at what he was buying. He had chosen a cookbook, a book on wood carving, a career aptitude book based on a test by Jung, a copy of Interview with a Vampire, and a Texas Driver's Manual. Although, to be fair, the driver's manual was free. I had to fight the urge to laugh. 

"There's a part two coming out this year," the cashier told Eric when she rang up the Anne Rice book.

"I haven't read it," Eric admitted.

"It's good." The girl smiled coyly at him, blatantly checking him out. "You'll like it." 

I rolled my eyes. Could I not go anywhere with him without him getting hit on? I appreciated the fact that he was gorgeous. I appreciated that fact as often as humanly possible. But I wanted to just go one place where I didn't feel like I had to fight for him.

"My boyfriend suggested that I read it," Eric told the girl. He reached over and took the books out of my arms and slid them across the counter to go on his tab. The girl and I both just blinked at him, though, I'm sure, for totally different reasons. "Is that it, Baby? Just five?"

I nodded and then realized that I was acting like a simpleton. "For now," I replied when I found my tongue. The girl seemed to snap out of her trance at the sound of my voice and she rang up the rest of our purchases without any further flirting.

"Did that bother you?" he asked when we were back in the car.

"No," I assured him. "It just surprised me. You're always surprising me."

"How?" He started the car and pulled onto the street. "In a good way or a bad way?"

"In a good way. You're just so open. It's like you don't care what other people think. Like you're not afraid of anything."

"I don't care what most people think," he replied. "Why should I? I don't even know those people and I'll probably never see them again. If they want to waste their time and energy worrying about what we may be doing, let them. Makes no difference to me." 

"This is the bible belt, Eric. Those people can become violent."

He quickly glanced at me. "I'd never let anyone hurt you, Rain. Ever," he swore. "But if it bothers you for me to be affectionate in public, I'll stop. I may not care what they think but I do care what you think."

"It doesn't bother me. I like it. I love the fact that you're not ashamed to let it be known that we're together. But it does scare me," I admitted. "I just wish that we lived someplace where there was no need to be afraid. Where everyone could be who they were and love who they love." It was the first time that the big scary 'L' word had been thrown out there. Even though the context was more universal than referring to us specifically, I watched Eric's reaction carefully. He had none.

We spent the rest of the short car ride in a pensive silence. We pulled into the parking lot of a hotel, not a motel. Even though I now knew there was far more money backing Eric than I could even comprehend, I couldn't help but cringe at the wasted expenditure. I looked around at the room thinking that I could live in, what was to me, the lap of luxury, for a month for what he's heedlessly paid for one night in that room. He set the overnight bag down on a padded bench and wrapped his arms around me.

"I have wanted this for so long," he murmured against my neck before he grasped my hand and pulled me into the bathroom. He turned on the water and quickly divested us both of our clothing before pulling me under the warm spray with him. To be honest, I wasn't in the mood. I was tired and cranky and hungry. But I wasn't going to stop him. I couldn't count the number of times that I had put out for total strangers when I didn't feel like it. I wasn't about to deny someone that actually mattered to me. 

I started to relax the moment he tilted my head back and began running his fingers through my hair. He watched my face while he washed my hair and massaged my scalp. Once he was satisfied with my hair, he moved down to my body. There wasn't a single centimeter of my skin that his fingers didn't explore and bathe. He reached around my body to wash my back, never turning me, so that he could continue to watch my face. He got down on his knees in front of me to wash the lower part of my body but he still looked up, into my eyes. I braced my hands on his strong shoulders and lifted my legs to allow him to wash my feet. 

We didn't utter a single word the entire time. I couldn't tell what he was thinking either. His face was so hard to read some times. Or maybe it wasn't. Maybe I was just in denial of what was so clearly stamped there for anyone to see. As soon as he set down my feet he used his hands to urge me to turn. He spread my cheeks with his hands and laved my hole. The touch of his tongue to my entrance sent me from zero to Oh My Fucking God in less than a heartbeat. It had never happened to me before and I couldn't make sense of it. I hadn't even gotten aroused while he was bathing me but the second he had his tongue on my ass I was ready to pop off. I widened my stance and put my palms on the wall in front of me to give him better access. 

"I'm going to come, Eric," I groaned. He'd had his mouth on me for less than a minute.




Rain Falls Ch. 07



"Come for me, Baby," he pulled off long enough to say. He snaked his tongue deep in my channel and reached around to grip my cock. That was all it took. My orgasm ripped through me, leaving me panting. It was pretty mild, probably the least powerful orgasm I had ever had with Eric, and it left me wanting.

As I came down from my high, he stopped up the garden style Jacuzzi tub and let it fill with hot water. He guided me to sit between his legs and recline against his chest. He hadn't adjusted the temperature and, the water that was just fine as a shower, was too hot for my skin submerged. I didn't comment on it. I knew it would cool off soon. Eric wrapped his arms around my chest and held me flush against him. Even with the temperature of the water, I could feel the heat from his engorged cock pressing into my spine and I ached to do something about it. I pushed my body up his, planted my feet on either side of his thighs and raised my hips out of the water. He knew what I intended and reached between our bodies to hold his dick up for me. I tried to lower myself on to him but, as wet as bathwater is, it's not lube. It had been too long since I'd had his big dick inside me and I couldn't get my ass to accept the penetration. 

"Wait," he husked after a couple minutes of me trying to force him past my guardian ring. He lurched up on his knees, taking me upright with him. Grabbing the tiny bottle of conditioner, he slicked his cock and slowly pushed it inside of me, groaning loudly at the entry. "Fuck, Baby. You're tight."

"Fuck me, Eric," I panted.

"No." He held me tight to him and, careful not to dislodge his cock from its place inside me, he lowered us back into the water. "I liked what you were doing. Fuck yourself on my cock, Baby."

He spread his legs to trap my feet between his powerful thighs and the walls of the tub, keeping me from losing my footing. With my head back on his shoulder and my shoulders on his chest, I arched my back, raising my hips. His breath hissed in my ear as I lowered my hips, impaling myself on his thick cock. I was going slow, testing the water, so to speak. It was on the second down stroke that I realized that this position was doing unspeakable things to my prostate. I saw stars. White lights flashed behind my closed eyelids.

"I'm not going to be able to keep this up. It's too intense." 

"Take your pleasure, Rain," he murmured in my ear. "Use my body. It's all yours."

I nodded and rose up again. The water had washed the conditioner off and I could feel my channel catching on his skin. It should have hurt but it didn't. My body was trying to hold on to him and I understood. He was leaking enough pre-cum to keep my insides slick enough to ride him but only if I did it slowly. I couldn't move fast enough to get him off but I was starting to climb. I don't know if it was the change in my breathing or the way my body would start to tremor but he seemed to have some sixth sense that told him when I was about to come. He gripped my cock and began stroking me.

"That's right, Baby," he crooned. "Fucking come for me. You're so fucking hot. Come for me, Rain."

Even with as slowly as I was moving the water was sloshing over my hands with their death grip on the edges of the tub. The floor was getting soaked and I honestly couldn't have cared less. I was in another world. My body was wracked with spasms. It felt like something vital was being forced out of me as I exploded and ribbons of cream decorated my body.

I must have blacked out again because the next thing I knew I was waking up in bed. How Eric had managed to get us both out of the tub without breaking our necks I will never know. I was trapped by his larger body again but, for the first time, I wasn't overheated. I figured out why as soon as I tried to wiggle out of his arms. The room was frigid. I stuck my head out of the cave-like shelter of his body and, discovering the room to be an icebox, I snuggled, gratefully, back into the warmth of his embrace. He hadn't stirred from his slumber and I was soon lulled back to sleep by the soothing sound of his steady breathing.

I was jerked awake by something and it only took me a second to realize what it was. I was cold. "Eric?" I called, trying to snuggle deeper into the soft bed.

"I'm here," he replied and crawled back into bed. I immediately curled up to the heat of his body. 

"Why is it so fucking cold in here?"

"I turned down the thermostat last night. You said that you were hot. I forgot to turn it back up before I fell asleep," he explained, spooning me back into the cocoon of his larger frame. "If this is what happens when you get cold I'm going to have an industrial AC unit installed in the bedroom."

I didn't remember telling him that I was hot but I remembered being hot so I took his word for it. "I didn't take you for a snuggler," I mumbled under the blankets.

"I never was before I met you."

"Aren't you freezing?"

"No." He held me tighter. "I hardly ever get cold, or hot for that matter, unless I'm sick."

"Lucky. I feel the cold more than most."

"Probably because you're underweight," he replied. "I ordered food. That's why I was out of bed. It's here. Are you hungry?"

"Starving," I admitted. "But I don't want to get up. I'm starting to get warm."

"I'll get it," he offered.

"No!" I exclaimed. "You're the heat source. Stay."

He chuckled. "The food will get cold."

"Better the food than me," I argued.

"I turned it back up," he said. "It will warm up."

"When?"

"Probably sometime after we've checked out," he laughed.

"Did you open the door for room service naked?" I asked, feeling the heat of his bare skin against my ass.

He hesitated. "Are you going to be upset if I say yes?"

"Not as upset as the waiter probably was."

"It was a waitress," he admitted.

"Oh geeze," I grinned. "Did she give you her phone number?"

"Actually, she didn't bat an eyelash. She probably sees that kind of thing all the time."

"Nobody sees this kind of thing all the time," I teased, arching my back and pinning his cock between our bodies. "Except me."

He kissed the top of my head. "I think it's adorable when you get all possessive. I'm all yours, Baby. You have nothing to worry about."

The movement must have woken my internal organs because my tummy chose that moment to grumble and my bladder started screaming for attention. I groaned and Eric laughed.

"Stay here," he said. "I'll go get the food and you can eat in bed."

"I can't. I have to piss."

He chuckled. "You're on your own there, I'm afraid. I can't do that for you."

"Well shit," I sighed. "Ok. Go."

He crawled out of the bed and I jumped up and hurried to the bathroom to take care of my bladder then scooted back under the covers. He brought a covered tray in and set it on the nightstand before sliding back in bed with me. After much grousing on my part, Eric settled behind me, leaning against the headboard while I sat between his legs and fed us both from the tray. It was almost the exact position that we had been in before I started riding him in the bathtub.

"You didn't get off last night, did you?" I asked between bites of pancake.

"No, but it's fine."

"No it's not."

"It really is," he assured me. "Don't worry about it."

"I'll make it up to you," I promised.

He chuckled. "There's no need. I get more pleasure out of you coming than me."

"That's crap."

"It's not," he replied. "I know it sounds like it. I'm sure it's bullshit for a lot of guys but it's not for me. Making you come, that's the ultimate high for me. I get such a rush from that. When you come for me it's like... I don't know how to describe it. The sounds that you make, the way that your body reacts, everything in me craves that moment when you let go and fall apart in my arms."

What he said sounded like love to me but I knew better than to suggest it. If he loved me he was going to have to tell me, unprompted. I held my breath for a second, waiting. I was disappointed.

"We're going to have to get going soon," he said instead. "Do you want to shower?"

"Yes."

We spent much too long in the shower but, regardless of what he'd said, I needed to make amends for leaving him hanging the night before. After taking me hard against the wall, he clutched my body tightly to his. "I'm going to miss this." His voice was barely a whisper as he fought for breath. 

My heart rate was recovering more quickly than his, as he had done all the heavy lifting. "You have a thing about water."

"Yes," he hissed through his teeth. 

"You could get a hot tub," I suggested, innocently. "I'm sure it would fit in the mortuary. Especially if you were to, say, finish the statue and move it."

He chuckled breathlessly and shook his head, grinning.

I remembered something after we had checked out and gotten in the car with our coffees and sodas for the trip. "You wanted to go out last night!"

"It's ok," he replied. "We were both tired."

"I'm sorry," I sighed. "I should have tried harder to stay awake."

"It's fine, Rain," he repeated. "I was tired too. We'll do Austin right the next time we're in town."

"We could stay another night, if you wanted."

"Nah." He shook his head. "I'm really itching to get to work."

"Ok."

"Do you mind if I read while you drive?" I asked.

He glanced at me sharply. "You can read in a moving vehicle?"

"Sure." I shrugged. "Can't you?"

"Hell no," he said. "Nobody that I know can either. It makes people sick."

"Sick how?" I asked. I had never even heard of such a thing. People read all the time on busses.

"Headaches, vomiting. Sick."

"Well, I don't have a problem with it," I told him.

"Then will you read to me?"

"Seriously?"

"Yeah."

"I'd love that." I grinned at him and fished around in the back seat until I found the Anne Rice book. I locked the door and got cozy leaning half on the door, half on the seat. I started reading. "I see... said the vampire thoughtfully, and slowly he walked across the room towards the window." I read through the entire drive, pausing only to moisten my throat and when we stopped for a restroom break. By the time we made it to Dallas, I had just gotten to part three where Louis and Claudia move to Paris.

I closed the book. "Are you stopping?" he asked.

"For now. We're almost there."

"Will you read to me while I'm working?" 

"If you like but..." I paused.

"Why don't I like the sound of that?"

"I was wondering if you would take me home," I told him.

"I am taking you home," he replied.

"You know what I mean," I sighed. "To my own apartment."

He took a couple of shaky breaths. "Are you upset with me?"

"No," I assured him. "I have to pay rent tomorrow and you want to start working. I don't want to interrupt you once you start. I think it's best if I stay at my own place tonight. Besides, I haven't been there in a week. I should check up on it."

He didn't respond but he passed the exit to his place and got off the highway at my exit. 

"Rain? Are you going to come back?" he asked me quietly when I opened the car door to get out.

"Yes." I gave him a reassuring smile. "You have most of my clothes."

He chuckled. "When?"

"Tomorrow I guess," I said. "Unless that's too soon for you."

"It's not too soon."

I got out and then stopped and leaned in the car. "How will I get in?"

"Use the code."

I laughed. "I don't know the code."

"Ten thirty-one," he replied.

"Halloween?" I smirked.

"My birthday," he responded.

I smiled. "And that's one less question I have to ask."

He laughed. "Asshole."

"Your asshole."

"Mine," he nodded.

I closed the door and watched him drive off. I was his, that much was a given, but I couldn't help but wonder if he was mine.

All I did that night was think about Eric. I knew that I was in love with him. I knew that I had probably always been in love with him but had never acknowledged it. What was the point? It was like falling for a movie star, futile and impossible. But, by some twist of fate, I had attained the unattainable. Eric loved me. Or did he? He hadn't said it but the way he treated me spoke volumes, right? Action speak louder than words. He didn't like to talk about himself, that's all it was. If I wanted to know how he was feeling then I would have to pay attention to him. It's what a lover should do anyway. Even though I was alone, I didn't have a problem sleeping. I had made the decision to be with Eric. I was going to move in with him. It would mean giving up my independence but Eric was worth it, right? I would have to rely on someone else for the first time in years. I was terrified.

At sunrise, I walked to Target to buy a new backpack. The one I had was falling apart and it was at Eric's. When I got back the manager was in so I paid two weeks of rent. It was a lot of money to me but I had no idea when I would be able to come back for my stuff. I cleaned my apartment and organized everything so that I'd only have to run in and get it when Eric brought me back. Then I packed the rest of my clothes, except the suit, in my new backpack, donned my cowboy hat, and set off for the nearly seven mile trek to Eric's.

It had to be around noon when I got there. The sun was bright and hot and directly overhead. I was thankful for my cowboy hat. I had no idea what my ancestry was but I tanned really well and almost never burned. However, living with Eric would mean that I would be doing the Goth thing more often than not and a Goth with a tan was just weird.

I turned the corner and walked up to the gate with a smile on my face. My hand froze as I reached for the keypad. There was a car parked next to Eric's and I was certain that it belonged to that girl, Irish. I stood there for I don't know how long, staring at that dark green convertible something-or-other until the warehouse door slid open. They were laughing, Eric and that girl. I watched, rooted to the spot, as the man that I loved bent his head and captured her lips in a kiss. I didn't move. I didn't even breathe. He, eventually, pulled back and said the words that I ached to hear.

"I love you, Irish."

I felt sick, physically ill, and I could hear the blood pounding in my ears while my heart shattered. I turned and walked back the way that I had come. 

"Rain!" I heard him shout as I walked away. "Fuck! Rain! Stop!"

I kept going. No matter how much I wanted to, I didn't run. I knew from experience that he couldn't open the gate from that side. He'd have to pull a car onto the pressure plate or use the opener that was locked in his car. How had I let this happen to me? I knew. I knew from the get-go that I could never aspire to be his. No. That wasn't true. I had been his all along. He had just never been mine. I'd had a week with him. I should be happy with that. It was more than I had ever hoped for. Far more than someone like me would normally ever have. I had gained so much and lost so little. He had my best clothes but I was sure he'd give them back. He'd have no reason to keep them. The only thing I'd lost was my heart. It was of little consequence. Whores had no use for a heart.

I had gone maybe four blocks when a car pulled up behind me, on the wrong side of the street. There was only one reason anyone would go to such lengths to get my attention. I wasn't in the mood to party but I would need the money. I didn't even attempt a smile, hoping the brim of my hat would hide the despair on my face. 

"If you're hoping that he'll chase you, he won't," she said. It was the first time that she had acknowledged my existence. I wasn't sure how I felt about it but at least it wasn't a John.

"I don't expect that he will." It was true. I hoped he would but I had learned a hard lesson about hope.

"Get in the car," she ordered.

"Hundred bucks," I snapped at her.

She glared at me. She was beautiful even angry. I could see why he would want her. "I'm not looking for a date. I just want to talk to you."

"I have no desire to talk to you," I replied. "I don't even know you, Irish."

"It's Jessica," she told me. "Only he calls me Irish."

"Well, I'm sure that you can understand if I don't say it's been a pleasure meeting you." I turned and resumed walking. I could hear the distinctive sound of her getting out of her car. I whipped around. "What are you doing?"

"If you won't get in then I'm getting out."

"You can't leave your car like that. It's in the middle of the street and facing the wrong way," I pointed out.

"Do you see any other cars around here?" She held out her arms and spun around, indicating the deserted street. The area was full of old industrial buildings that had long since closed. Some of the buildings, like Eric's, had been converted into apartments but it was a new trend that hadn't really taken off yet. Most of the local denizens were shady, at best.

"Jessica, that's a nice car." I lowered my voice. "If you leave it there it's going to be jacked in about five minutes."

"Then it would be so much easier on everyone if you would just get in the damn car," she demanded. "I will even take you wherever you decide that you want to go... After you hear me out."

I sighed, defeated, and got in her car. It was way down on the bottom of my list of things that I wanted to do but I cared about Eric too much to let his girlfriend risk herself or her car. The headliner was low so I had to take off my hat. I set my backpack on the floorboard and my hat in my lap.

"Cowboy hat?" she asked as she got behind the wheel.

"Don't judge," I snapped. "It's a nice hat." It was a Stetson and it was a quarter of a size too big for me but that was ok. It rode low on my brow and didn't smush my hair too badly. A John had given it to me as a tip after a wild ride. He'd said I was the best fuck he'd ever had. I believed him because cowboys didn't just part with their hats. It was unheard of.

"It's Rain, right?" she asked as she pulled the car onto the right side of the road.

"Yes."

"Ok. I wasn't sure if that was just what he called you."

"Like Irish?"

She grinned but kept her eyes on the road. "Yes. He calls me that because of the freckles."

I studied her profile. "I don't see any freckles."

"I cover them up," she admitted. "He started calling me that when we first met, before I was old enough to wear makeup. We grew up together."

"Oh." How nice for them. Childhood sweethearts. I never stood a chance. I looked out the window. I didn't know where we were going but I didn't care either. Maybe she'd drop me off the highest bridge of the mix-master. Eliminate the competition, so to speak. Not that I thought I was competition. She had already won.

"What you saw back there..." she said. "That's all there was. He spent the whole night talking about you."

What I got out of her statement was that they had spent the night together. I was ready to throw myself off the bridge if she didn't do it for me.

"I wanted more but he turned me down. He's never done that before," she went on. "He's got it bad for you."

"He loves you," I argued. "I heard him."

She pulled into the parking lot of the farmer's market, shut off the car, and turned her body to face me. "He loves me," she agreed. "But not like he does you. He told me that we could never be together again. He was with you. He's never denied me before, no matter who he was dating. What does that tell you?"

"Not as much as that kiss," I mumbled. "Actions speak louder than words."

She nodded. "It was a goodbye kiss, Rain. We've been lovers on and off since we were kids. We're best friends too but now, it's all we are. He won't come back to me even if you leave him. He'll just self-destruct. I know that you have known him for a while but I don't know if you know that about him. He's not going to chase you. He's made his choice and you have to make yours. He's never given his heart to anyone like this. If you walk away from him, he'll just let you. He'll believe that you didn't want him and it will kill him but he won't try to change your mind. He's never really believed that he was worthy of being loved. I blame his parents for that. They were never around. Their jobs were more important than their son and he never really learned how to bond with people."




Rain Falls Ch. 07



"He bonds with people all the time," I argued. "He has tons of friends."

She shook her head. "He knows how to behave in social situations. He was trained to put on a good show for parties. He doesn't have friends. He has acquaintances."

I thought about what she said. It was exactly what I had been thinking about since Vinyl had left.

"Then there's the other thing here, the elephant in the room," she continued. "The gay thing."

"He doesn't seem to have a problem with it," I told her. "He's constantly kissing me in public."

She looked like she'd been poleaxed. "He kisses you? In public?"

"Yes." I blushed. "Among other things."

"Well." She shook her head in disbelief. "He doesn't even do that with his girlfriends, Rain."

"I didn't know that," I admitted. "I haven't known him to have a girlfriend. I've only known him for a year. He's been single that whole time."

She shook her head again. "No he hasn't. In the past year he's had three steady girlfriends. He's only been single for the last few weeks. He broke up with the last one... Amanda?... Something like that... three or four weeks ago."

I was too stunned to respond. He'd had girlfriends the whole time that he'd been paying me for sex? None of that made sense to me. I wasn't concerned about the infidelity. Most of my Johns were married men. What shocked me was that I had never known. I saw him out all the time I had never realized that one of those girls hanging on his every word was probably his girlfriend. The girlfriend that he was likely ditching somewhere to hook up with me. How could I have not known that?

"But we've been..." I stuttered.

"Having sex?" she supplied. "So have we. This is what I'm trying to tell you. He has never given himself to one person before. Never. A few weeks ago he started on this downward spiral and cut everyone off. He wouldn't even see me and he always had some excuse to get off the phone when I called. I got tired of it and showed up the other day."

"Sunday."

"Yes."

"I was there."

"I know," she smirked. "I saw you."

"You didn't even look at me," I accused.

"I didn't know who you were. He had never mentioned you to me until last night. I didn't mean to come off as rude. It never even occurred to me that you might be his boyfriend. He's never dated a guy before."

"What am I supposed to do with this information?" I asked.

"Do you love him, Rain?"

"Yes," I answered. "How could I not?"

"Then go back to him." She said it like it was simple. "I love him and I will always be in his life but he's chosen you as a lover. I will respect and support that decision. I will never try to come between you two. I don't know you from Adam but if you're the person that he's fallen in love with then you have to have some redeemable qualities. I'm offering you my friendship. And, as a friend, I'm telling you that if you don't go back to him, right now, it's going to be the worst decision of your life. He's going to die inside. If you truly love him, you won't be able to live with yourself when that happens."

"He's not the only one dying inside," I whispered.

"Then I guess it's not a tough decision," she said as she turned and started the car.

She stopped on the street in front of the gate and fished around in her purse. "Here." She handed me a business card. It read Jessica Gold, Public Relations. "I meant what I said about us being friends. When he starts driving you crazy with his stubbornness, give me a call."

"Gold?" I said. "That doesn't sound very Irish."

"It's not," she smirked. "I'm German. He's just a dork."

"Public relations?" I chuckled. "I had no chance, did I? You convince people to do what you want for a living."

She smiled at me. "You didn't take much convincing. This is what you wanted to do anyway."

"You still owe me a hundred bucks," I teased.

"Get out of my car," she snarled at me playfully.

I slipped the card into the front pocket of my backpack and opened the car door. "Jessica? I'm not sure what this cost you, emotionally, but I'll always be grateful. Thank you."

She nodded. "You're welcome."

I slid the unlocked door open to see him sitting on the couch with his head in his hands before he bolted up at the sound of the door.

"Rain," he breathed.

I closed the door behind me and locked it. I never had figured out why he didn't lock it. Even with the prison style fencing, it was still a rough neighborhood. He stood stock still as I closed the distance between us. I dropped my backpack on the floor and tossed my hat into the chair.

"Rain, I didn't," he whispered.

"I know," I replied. I stopped on the opposite side of the coffee table. "But you and I need to talk. Really talk. Not like, talk for two minutes and then fuck for two hours."

"Ok."

"So far you've talked to Sheldon about us and Jessica about us. The person that you haven't talked to about us is me. That needs to stop."

"What do you want me to say?" he asked.

I moved my hat to the coffee table and sat in the recliner. If I got too close to him I'd lose my conviction and crawl into his lap. "What am I to you?"

"My boyfriend. My lover. My friend."

"Boyfriend like your girlfriends?" I asked. "Is this just sex to you? Don't tell me what you think I want to hear. Be honest with me. I can handle it if that's what this is to you but I need to know."

He sat down and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. "No. Maybe you could handle it but I can't. This isn't just sex to me. It never has been."

"Never?" I asked. "I just found out that you've had girlfriends and other lovers the entire time we've known each other."

He looked shocked for a split second. "You've been talking to Irish."

I nodded.

"Yes," he admitted. "But doesn't that say something positive about us? I always set everything and everyone else aside to be with you."

"Why me, Eric?" I asked, perplexed. "You could have anyone. Why were you paying me?"

"Because I wanted you," he admitted. "I watched you for months before that first night. I thought the craving would go away, that it was just some passing fancy, but it didn't. It's just gotten stronger. I need you like I need air. I didn't know any other way of being with you. You never dated. I know, I paid attention. It would have made me crazy to find out that you were dating someone but it also would have given me a chance."

"But you kept seeing other people."

"Yes." His focus dropped to his hands clasped together between his knees. "I thought that I could just work you out of my system. I invited all those people over hoping that you'd come, and it worked, you did. Then it took me hours to get rid of them. I felt like I was going to spontaneously combust. Then all I had the courage to do was... It wasn't enough. It made everything so much worse. I had to seek you out again. I needed more. Then, the next time, I... I was like an addict. Every time I saw you I tried to stay away from you but I couldn't. I kept trying to prove to myself that I wasn't gay. I kept fucking girls. It got to the point that I couldn't even get off unless I was with you or imagining that I was with you. The last time I was with you... like that... It was a breaking point for me. I couldn't go back and I couldn't move forward. I couldn't work and I couldn't sleep. I dumped my girlfriend, locked the door, unplugged the phone, and tried to get a grip on myself. I decided that I had to quit denying what it was. It wasn't just sex and it wasn't a phase. I quit fighting. I pulled myself together, decided that if I was going to be gay then I wasn't going to be ashamed of it, got dressed, and went out to find you. Only, in the interim, while I had my head buried in the sand, you started working at that hotel."

He dropped his head back into his hands. The tips of his hair touched the floor between his feet.

"You knew what I did for a living," I prodded. "Why did that bother you so much?"

"Because you didn't need me anymore," he mumbled into his hands before looking up at me again, finally. "I had come to terms with the fact that I was in love with you and, suddenly, you didn't need me anymore. I had nothing to offer you."

I got up and sat on the coffee table in front of him. We were so close that our knees overlapped. "Say it again."

"I had nothing..."

"Not that." I shook my head.

His lips turned up in a slight grin. "You didn't need me," he taunted.

"Don't be an ass, Eric," I scowled. "Say it again."

"I was in love with you." He grinned for a second and then sobered. "I love you, Rain."

"That's all you ever had to offer me, Eric. That's all I ever wanted."