1 comments/ 15061 views/ 0 favorites A Widow's Tale Ch. 02 By: wordofvirtue The sound of a man in the house again was sweet, and I pretended to sleep just to savor it. Eric had gotten out of bed and padded to the bathroom quietly, trying not to awaken me. Urine splashed into the toilet bowl and he sighed with relief. Mentally, I told my own bladder to hush for now. He left the bathroom and went downstairs. Paniced that he was leaving my eyes flew open; his clothes were still on the floor where he had left them the night before. Footfalls on the stairs vanquished my short-lived fear and I closed my eyes again, playing possum. The shower hissed to life and gradually the smell of men's soap crept into the bedroom. I dozed on and off while Eric tended to his hygiene. At length he finished and I sensed his presence in the bedroom. I opened my eyes but stayed quiet, watching him. Clad only in pajama bottoms he was a feast for the eyes, every bit as handsome as I had had remembered from the previous night. He strolled about the room, stopping from time to time to examine the photos and art that hung on the walls. Most of them had sexual themes, some more explicit than others. A few were of my own creation, culled from various sources and flavored with my own imaginings. Extending his arms over his head, he stretched from side to side, muscles rippling. He turned toward the bed and saw that I was awake. He smiled comfortably and sat on the bedside, touching my leg. "Good morning, beautiful Lady." I giggled. "Good morning, Eric." "Been awake long?" "Long enough to admire what I enjoyed last night." "That's good news. Are you hungry?" "Some. You?" "I'm starving. If you don't mind a strange man in your kitchen, I'd love to cook some breakfast for us." "I would never turn down a meal I don't have to make myself." "Excellent. Besides -- if I sit here any longer, I'm going to have to fuck you again. I'm getting hard already." "My. That's quite a dilemma for you. But, I'm sure I'd rather have you weak from desire and not hunger." The front of his pajamas were bulging. Eyelids fluttering, he tipped his head back and inhaled sharply. "God damn." He leaned over and kissed my cheek. "Meet you downstairs?" "Mm-hmm," I replied, nodding and blowing a kiss. As soon as he headed downstairs, I made a dash for the bathroom. A torrent of urine and cum passed out of me. My God how he had fucked me! I expected to be well satisfied and maybe a little sore, but instead I was wanting even more and my openings were well ready for anything he could give them. The thought of him in my kitchen, half-naked, sporting wood, and cooking for me gave me strong motivation to make short work of my shower. I chose my deep blue silk robe, deciding against wearing the chemise that matched. As I towel-dried my hair, I heard my young lover whistling happily. Eric was standing at the stove juggling four eggs when I walked into the kitchen. I was glad I hadn't tried to sneak up on him to steal a kiss as I had considered doing. He'd pitch the eggs high in the air -- almost to the ceiling -- and catch them effortlessly, taunting gravity at every moment. "That's impressive," I said as he continued to juggle. "Can you walk the tightrope, too?" "Nope. But I have swung from the chandeliers now and then." He grinned and winked and brought the eggs safely to rest on the countertop. I applauded heartily and he bowed with a theatrical flourish. Moving through the kitchen with ease, Eric located dishes and foodstuffs as though he'd lived there forever. In no time at all we were at the table, sharing yet another meal together. "How long can you stay?" "I have someplace to be at nine tonight." "A client?" "Yeah." "Can I ask?" "Ask what?" "What's it like? What will you do with him?" He shook his head. "Maggie, I don't ... you wouldn't want ... " I looked at him imploringly. I did want to know, I really did. "Please? I'm dying of curiosity. It's not like the thought of men touching each other puts me off." "I know it doesn't. You're paintings are very good, by the way. But Maggie, this isn't like your paintings. This client is a guy who has a very particular fetish and ... and I've never actually talked about this before. About what I do. Even with Todd I don't ... not in detail anyway." I continued staring at him. "I thought you weren't ashamed." Eric sighed heavily. "I'm not." "So tell me." He stared at my face for a few seconds. I succeeded at my efforts not to blink. "You're sure you don't want to leave this alone?" "Positive." "Ok. All right. Against my better judgement I'll tell you about my client. But you have to tell me about this secret double life business you mentioned at dinner last night. I'm curious too." "Fair enough." I sipped from my coffee mug. I had no idea how I would ever be able to put into words what Gerald and I had lived all those years. "I'm listening" Eric leaned back in his chair. "Ok. Here goes. This guy has been calling me for, I don't know, more than a year. About every six weeks. It's always the same -- like a ritual. Same sequence, same words, same time and place. He leaves the motel room door unlocked. I come in and he's waiting for me. He's naked and he's on his hands and knees except that he's got a bunch of pillows under his chest that he's hanging on to. My fee is on the table, along with a pair of exam gloves and a can of Crisco. Sometimes there's a tip, sometimes not. I put the money in my wallet, take off my shirt, and then I make sure he can hear me putting on the gloves. That's part of what trips him out -- hearing the gloves snap. As soon as he hears that he starts whimpering, 'please don't stick your fist up my ass; it hurts so bad, please don't do that to me anymore.' Word for word, every time." Eric watched my face closely as he spoke. I knew that my ears felt hot, but I must have had that far away look. In my mind I could see the scene so clearly. I knew the game, knew how badly the man both wanted and dreaded what was about to happen. Eric paused. "Maggie? You ok?" "Yeah. Fine. Go on." "You're chewing on your lip." "Oh? Am I?" Eric raised an eyebrow and continued. "So then I say, 'too bad, You should have cancelled.' I sit down behind him -- well, I'm behind him the whole time. He never looks at my face. Anyway, I start packing Crisco up his ass. He clenches down real hard and I have to tell him to stop it if he knows what is good for him. I work three or four big handfuls of grease up him. By that time his cock's hard again. He jerks off in the pillows right before I get there. I ask him why he's got a boner if he hates my fist so much. That's when he starts to cry. I just ignore it and keep working in until I get to where I'm ready to start to over my knuckles. I stop and I tell him, 'I dunno. It looks like your asshole's starting to tear already.' He buries his face down in the pillows and starts screaming 'don't tear me open!' over and over. That's my cue to push in the rest of the way -- and believe me, he's not resisting. I mean, my hands are big and I know it burns, but he lets me right in. I make a fist and start moving it inside him. The more I move it, the more he screams about how bad I'm hurting him. Once I've got him good and sweaty, I tell him it's ok to stroke off if he wants. He pulls on his cock a few times and blows another load on the pillows. I pull my hand out after he stops twitching. He likes me to stand up before I take the gloves off so I can drop them on his back. While I'm putting my shirt back on he begs me not to tell his wife. If there was a tip, I spit on him before I leave. He always calls back." I was breathless. Eric's candor was more than I expected. His vivid narrative had lit a fire between my legs. I didn't say anything. I couldn't. He started to look apprehensive, his eyes darting around my face uncomfortably. He ran a hand through his hair, sighed, and turned his head away. I rested a hand on his forearm. "Eric, no." He turned back toward me. "I'm sorry Maggie. I shouldn't have -- " I cut off his words with a kiss. I was aggressive, probing deeply with my tongue. I could feel his anxiety falling away as I ran my hands over his chest and shoulders. He was kissing me back then, pushing dishes aside, maneuvering me on to the table. I wrapped my legs around his waist, my ass poised on the edge of the table as he stood before me. His rigid shaft pressed against my inner thigh. He nuzzled my damp hair and my neck, murmuring sweet words. "You are so amazing, Maggie. So amazing." He slipped his hands under my robe, running them over my full breasts. "I never expected any of this this. Never expected your acceptance. Not in my wildest dreams." "How wild are your dreams?" "What do you think?" "I think you should come downstairs with me, Eric." "I want to fuck you right here. On your dining room table. In front of the window." "If you come downstairs with me, I promise you won't be disappointed. Something I've kept hidden for many years is down there." "Ah, yes. Your secret. You know I know already." Eric traced his fingers up my neck and grasped firmly. Our eyes locked, he pressed my throat just tight enough to stir old memories deep inside my body. My hips rocked. I led him back through the kitchen and down the basement stairs. The door was locked, although I had hung the key on a hook in the door frame after Gerald had gone. I had never been allowed to touch it until then. It still felt odd. Swinging the door open, I turned on the light and motioned Eric to enter. Three steps behind, I followed him in and knelt on the floor out of habit. "My God," he muttered, wide-eyed. It was indeed awe-inspiring. To say that Gerald had been an afficionado of bondage equipment would have been terribly understated. The room was large, taking up about a third of the basement. One of the long walls supported shelving, floor to ceiling, filled with any conceivable device -- cuffs, collars, gags, blindfolds, hoods, bars, irons, dildoes, plugs, belts, crops, even medical instruments -- the collection was immense. The opposing wall was lined with various pieces of larger equipment and hardware. The ceiling joists were peppered with heavy rings and pulleys. The far wall was tiled, as was the floor, with a locker room style shower, a deep laundry sink, and a toilet. The nearby drain was over-sized and covered with a heavy grate that I'd been chained to more than once. The last wall was covered with cork and plastered with photos of me, none of them "nice" but pinned up nevertheless. I counted 317 of them once. Silently, Eric wandered around the room, stopping at the photographs. "My God," he whispered this time. He looked back to see me kneeling on the cold floor. The corners of his mouth turned slightly upward and his eyes gleamed devilishly. He rubbed at his solid cock, beckoning me to him with a wag of his finger. "Get over here." I started toward him on hands and knees. "Walk." I stood and approached him, my head swimming with expectation and arousal. My mouth went dry but my pussy was hot and wet. "Kneel ... no, don't look away. Your face is too pretty to hide." He tugged the front of his pajamas down exposing his engorged shaft, a drop of pre-cum sparkling at its tip. I leaned forward just a little. "Not until I tell you, my dear. Not until I tell you." Eric began his lecture. "I won't be taking you as far as you'd probably like to go today. I'm being selfish to some extent. I can't leave without an excuse to come back, now can I? There are a couple of other things, though. Self-control, Maggie. Really good soup needs to simmer for a long time. Now, I have been accused of being too distant, too quiet in the sack. At least that's what my brother seems to think. He doesn't get the beauty of self-control. I prefer to take my time, to keep my focus. We'll get there. Eventually. Truth to tell, I'm working with something of a handicap on this one. You'll have to tolerate my learning curve. As I said, all of my clients are men. When it comes to women, I'm more a wine-and-roses kind of guy. I've dabbled here and there, but nothing of this ... magnitude." He looked around at the room as he searched for his word, then focused again on my face. "So far, so good?" "Yes, Sir." He groaned. "Ah, how did I know you were going to call me that? The only place I ever want to hear that word is here, in this room. No place else. My name is Eric. Got it?" "Yes, Sir." "Wonderful." His cock bobbed in front of my face. "You can have that one drop you've been wanting, but that's all." Eric grasped his cock at its base and stroked it firmly, increasing that one precious drop to at least three. It spilled past the cleft of his glans, running down the underside of his shaft. I wasn't sure what to do. He'd said 'one drop' but offered much more. Could he be testing me? Or was this just one very large drop? His face gave nothing away. There was only one way to find out. Boldly, I licked along the underside of his prick from about the middle and up over the top. I wanted so badly to take the head of it in my mouth, but left it at wanting. His fluid was warm and slick and tasted like more. I swirled my tongue around the roof of my mouth, distributing the flavor of him throughout my mouth. He pulled his pajamas back over his hips. "We'll get back to that later. Next issue: these photos. Most of them are fine. Some of them are going to have to go. Do you have a paper shredder?" "Yes, Sir." "Good." Eric picked a few of the photographs off the wall and fanned them out in his hand as if they were playing cards. "Take a look at these and tell me what they have in common." Scaning over the photos, I remembered each session vividly. Every one of them had been taken at the end of punishments to help me learn from my mistakes. Learn I did, for there was nothing I dreaded more than a caning. Angry red welts criss-crossed my bottom. Still, there were plenty of other pictures that were essentially the same. Some of them had even been taken during the same sessions. I puzzled back and forth, looking for the answer. When I figured it out, I gasped, realizing for the first time just how far away my submission could carry me. It had never felt the way it suddenly looked from this perspective. "Blood." Indeed, my skin was broken in each of the pictures Eric held in his hand. It wasn't a gore-fest by any means, but it was inarguable. Even if by only the littlest bit, Gerald had opened my skin in each example. "Blood. Yes. And, more importantly, a terrible lapse in self-control on several occasions. That won't be happening anymore. While I would never presume to speak ill of the dead, he wasn't paying attention like he should have been. Besides, there are much more devious ways of making an impression on someone without resorting to a beating." He grinned down at me like the Cheshire cat yet gave away no secrets. My cunt, perhaps for the first time ever in my life, was literally dripping wet. He knew it, too. Exactly how he knew was a deep mystery, but there would never be any way of keeping secrets from this man. I recalled his words from the night before: 'I knew the moment I saw you.' I felt a helplessness that I had never known before, not even during my most intense moments of submission. Shark-like, he circled around me, observing, evaluating, judging. I clasped my hands together in a feeble attempt to hide how they trembled. Eric crossed behind me, closing and locking the door. Everything was moving in slow-motion. The noise of the tumblers was jack-hammer loud and my pulse swooshed in my head. From far away I heard him speak. "Get up." I was on my feet. The wetness between my legs was rivaled only by the wetness under my arms. He had yet to lay one finger on me and still I was sweaty hot. Something was running down my leg. Perhaps it was leaking from my cunt. Perhaps it was sweat. Perhaps, even, it was a little dribble of urine. I couldn't have said. Silently I chanted to myself, 'just breathe, just breathe.' He was standing directly behind me. His patience was my agony. Without warning, my right hand was pinned behind my shoulder blades and we were rushing toward the wall. Fast. Before I could so much as blink, my left cheek was resting on the cold tile. Eric had my left hand over my head, palm to the wall and trapped. My right hand was still pinned to my shoulder blade. He could have hurt me, badly, if he had so wanted. My God he was strong! Ever so slightly he pressed upward on my right arm until, panting, I cried out softly. His bare chest blanketed my back. He let his rigid cock rest against the fullest part of my ass as he bit at my neck. His teeth raked across my skin gently at first, then insistently, then demandingly. He slid his jaw back and forth a few times before releasing the skin he'd clamped between his teeth. He blew on the spot he'd just bitten. "Do let me know what your friend at work has to say about the mark on your neck, dear one, " he murmured. My throat too thick to speak, I nodded as best I could given my position. "And make sure you go through all of those photos very carefully. You know which ones offend me. The next time I am in this room, I expect to be satisfied with your attention to detail." I was all but blind with arousal. Something like my voice made a crackly, breathy noise. Asking for permission was out of the question. It was way too late to stop the orgasm that was about to rip through me. Eric brought a knee up between my legs and planted it firmly against the wall, my seething cunt resting on top of his muscular thigh. Pressing into him, my hips wanted to move. His breath tickled my ear when he spoke. "No grinding. No moving. Just let it out." I slid down the wall a little as my legs gave way. Had it not been for straddling Eric's knee I'd have broken my arm, for he still had me pinned. To be sure, his sturdy support was no accident. He was as solid as a mountain beneath me and his cock felt at least as large. 'No moving' and 'just let it out' proved at once to be an impossible contradiction. My orgasm bucked like a wild mare, uncontrollable and defiant. It mocked my obedient intentions and animated my body against my will. I hated it. I never wanted it to stop. My head was spinning as I lost touch with my surroundings. I was vaguely aware that my robe had been removed and I'd been carried across the room. Eric laid me on my back on what used to be called "the workbench" -- a heavy table that Gerald had constructed to accommodate various restrictions to my movement. It was about the size of a doctor's exam table, but much heavier and bolted to the floor. His strong hands tugged on my hips, urging me downward. "Scoot down." I wiggled toward him until I was in the position all women know: knees to my chest, my bottom hung off the end of the table, fully exposing my slick, engorged flesh. Cool air tickled my clit and threatened to trigger another orgasm. "Knees stay where they are," he said, moving to the head of the table. "Give me your hands." Eric brought my hands over my head, binding my wrists with my bathrobe tie. He secured the other end to the table and briefly tested my mooring. Finding it sufficient, he stood beside me and smoothly pulled off his pajamas. His cock was standing straight up and had flushed a deep shade of red-purple. I was mesmerized by the sight of it, wondering how it must feel for him to be so hard and if it would be like having a thick, long, heavy clit. "Do you have any idea how much you wet all over my leg, Maggie? Hmm?" "No. Well, not exactly. Probably a lot?" It was more a question than an answer. "Oh, yes. It was a lot. Here -- you look a little overheated." Eric mopped my face with the cum-soaked flannel, paying particular attention to my mouth. I licked my lips reflexively. That I relished the taste of my own pussy did not escape Eric's watchfulness. A Widow's Tale Ch. 02 "You like that, do you?" "I love it." Fingers plunged deep into my feverish sex, pushing a low moan up my belly and out my throat. I felt him move them inside me, wriggling and stroking, twisting and probing. Just as my back began to arch he abruptly departed my cunt, sliding his juicy fingers into my mouth. I licked and sucked my cream off them eagerly while Eric's other hand moved to my breasts, firmly sweeping a circular path around them. He pushed the fingers in my mouth slowly down the back of my throat. I heard him swear under his breath when he found he could slide them in no deeper yet knew I could take more. Eric cupped one of my breasts in his free hand. He kissed and licked my small pink nipple before sucking it into his mouth. The only parts of my body I had ever felt even slightly self-conscious about were my nipples. I loved having them pinched and pulled and sucked, but they were small, almost tiny. It was difficult to get many styles of clamps secured to them. Eric was sucking hard, though, flicking his tongue across the tip, driving me mad with desire. He pulled his fingers out of my mouth only to find my other nipple. Pinching it roughly, he bit into the other. "Ahhh, fuck yes," I yelped. My toes started to curl as a wave gathered inside my womb. Eric released my nipples and pulled away from me, leering silently. Another long string of pre-cum had leaked from his steel-hard cock. He wiped it with his thumb and licked it away almost absentmindedly as if doing so was a habit. He moved to the foot of the table. He ran his hands up the backs of my legs, bringing my calves to rest on his shoulders. With all the speed of a tortoise he kissed at my knees, his rigid shaft bobbing just an inch away from my cunt. "Oh God, Eric. Fuck me pleeeeease," I gibbered. I pulled against my fetter trying to move down the table toward his cock but met with no success. He just smiled and returned to kissing my knees. A flood of begging gushed out of my mouth. "PleeeeasePleeease FuckMeNow OhGod INeedItSoBad IDon'tCareWhatHole Anything Pleeease JustFuckMeHard And FuckMeHard And Pleeease ICan'tStandThis FuckMe ..." "I'm sorry. What was that? I was just wondering if I'd turned off the burners on the stove and didn't hear you." "OhFuckPleaseNowAnythingEricAnythingJustFuckMe." "Why didn't you just say so the first time?" "FuckMeFuckMeFuckM -- " With one lunge, Eric sank all of his burning cock into my cunt. He fucked me with a vengeance, pounding hard and deep and fast. I grunted with every downstroke as he hammered the very breath out of me. Sustained orgasm racked my whole body. The sensation of being opened wide by his thick cock was incredible. I wanted so much to touch myself, to feel his cock as it slid in and out of me, but I couldn't. My tits bounced to the rhythm of his thrusting as youth and fitness allowed him to keep up his frenetic pace. It was the longest taste of heaven I'd ever known. Eric was leaning heavily on my legs, pressing them toward me against my taut hamstrings. They would be sore tomorrow, but that was an insignificant price to pay for the unbelievable fucking he was giving me now. He must have been getting close; he slowed his pace for a few strokes, groaning and winded, staring at my face. "I wanna shove my whole body into you." I was still babbling, not really with it enough to make much sense. "GiveItToMeFuckMeHardEricAnythingPleaseFuckHardMore ..." I must have made enough sense. He jabbed into me with such force that my jaw slammed shut, rattling my teeth. He was savage, roaring as he fucked me with all his might. Tears of sheer bliss started to fill my eyes. He fucked and he fucked and he fucked, and I fucked him back with everything I had. A loud masculine scream erupted from him as I felt his cock throbbing deep inside my clutching pussy. I never heard a man make a sound like that before, but then again, I had never been fucked like Eric had just fucked me. Deep gasps and moans punctuated his breathing; his pulsating cock pumped gobs of simmering cum into me. Gradually he released the pressure on my legs. I wrapped them around his waist waiting for the sensation to return to my feet. "Wow," he panted, gazing at my outstretched body. "Shit -- I didn't hurt you did I?" "No. God no. But I could use my hands back." He reached over me to untie my hands. His chest glistened with perspiration. I kissed at it while he released my hands. The taste and smell of fresh sweat on a man had always provoked my libido. For the moment, though, my appetite was whetted. My wrists freed, I ran my hands over his shoulders and neck as we kissed. These were lazy, slow, delicious kisses. Afterglow kisses. We lingered like that until his softening cock gently fell out of me. I felt empty. I'd have it filling me again, though. I had a feeling we'd be spending a lot of time together. A Widow's Tale Ch. 03 Author's note: this story is heavily gay male in content. The gentle reader is advised. ********************** "You know I sleep with my brother, right?" Eric and I had spent several days apart after those first encounters, and it was good to lie next to him on the blanket, warm sun streaming down on our faces. Puffy white clouds floated in a dazzling blue sky as he made good on the promise to tell me about his life. "You've dropped hints." "I know there's a word for it, but that's not what it feels like. It's just that we've always been together -- conceived together, born together, raised together. And then we got older and we loved together. It seemed perfectly natural then. It still does and it always will. You need to know that. We won't leave each other. We promised never to leave each other." "Do you have a picture of him?" Eric shifted to his side, smiling softly. "You're lookin' at him." "Identical? Really?" "I prefer to say that we look alike." I touched his face, running my thumb over his cheekbone. "Eric Price, you are the most unorthodox person I have ever met. And if I had to be concerned about what other people thought, I would get up and run like hell. But there is no one in my life who has any expectations of me. My old life is gone. The only person I have to make happy is myself. I like you. You have a good heart. I'm adventurous enough to see what happens." "You can't say you weren't warned." "Ok. I won't. Do you have a family?" "Other than Todd, no. Not anymore. You?" "No. Daddy died when I was a little girl. Mom passed about a year before Gerald. No siblings." "Fuck. That makes being disowned sound like the grand prize." "They really disowned you?" "Oh, yeah. Big time. It was horrible. I can talk about it. Todd can't." "Talk then." Eric sighed, his chest moving deeply with his breath. "We were raised in a really strict religious household. My grandfather was a preacher -- speaking in tongues, all that shit. He was good at it, though. He preached in his garage until the congregation got too big. Then they built the church. Dad decided early in life that he had the call and he all but grew up in that building. He met Mom there, married her there. When Pap died, he took over the ministry. All of our lives revolved around church." "A preacher's kid. Good Lord." Eric grinned, trying to look coy. "Typical, huh? We would have had a sister, err, we did have a sister. She was older. Mom never would say what was wrong, but she only lived a few hours. So you can imagine when Todd and I were born it was a huge deal." "The answer to your mother's prayers." "Prayers, hell. We were fuckin' prophecy, baby! Fullness restored. God's grace revealed." He delivered the words as though he could have easily been a convincing preacher himself. Except for the expletive. "That's a lot to live up to." "We knew from the beginning that we were violating a huge taboo. We didn't play charades because we were afraid of who we were. We did it because of who our parents were in the community. There was no reason to scandalize what they had. They're honest people. Sincere. Not con-artists like some of them. " Eric's cell phone chimed. "Sorry. I have to answer this." He pulled the phone out of his pocket, thumbed in a brief message, and returned the device to its hiding place. "OK. Sorry about that." "Duty calls?" "Uh, maybe. Anyway ... " ""Yeah. So, what happened? How did they find out?" "We got sloppy. Got caught." "Ouch." "No shit. We were in college, home for Christmas break. It was funny; we'd talked about maybe trying to have the coming-out conversation with them but decided that the time wasn't right. The holidays and church and all, you know? It could wait." "Reverend Fred -- Dad -- was always sending us on good will missions. He found one for us the second day of break. There was a new family in the church. Our job was to take their son, Ben, under our wings for the week. The story was that Ben was still missing a best friend from home and we were to take him around town, show him where to go, that sort of thing. He gave us the address and said they were expecting us and sent us out the door. We joked about who ought to get the bill for our time. We had started collecting clients by then." "Anyway, we got there, we met the kid. I say kid, but he was our age. Small, though. A lot smaller than we were. And really awkward. And queer as a three dollar bill. We didn't know it, but his parents set him up. He had no idea he was going out until we got there. And he didn't want any part of it." "They forced him to go, I assume." "Yep. We couldn't get him to talk. He had that deer-in-the-headlights thing goin' really bad, just sitting in the back seat, cringing. Todd was driving. I looked at Todd, Todd looked at me, and then he stopped the car. And what he said next I will never forget." ******************************************** "Ben, it's time to cut the bullshit. We know you're a fag and we know you're pining for your boyfriend." "Jesus, Todd! Are you trying to be an asshole?!" "No, Eric, I'm not." Eric turned, trying to calm poor Ben who was as pale and skinny as he was terrified -- which was to say, completely. This fucking place was shaping up to be as awful as the last place. He hoped the two pretty preacher-boys would leave his face alone and just get it over with. So far, no one in Vandalia had kicked his ass. Until today. Merry fucking Christmas. His dad was going to shit. "Just ignore him, man. He's been impossible all day." "Me?!" Todd interjected. "You're the one who won't put out." "Are you still on that?" "I just don't get what the problem is. It's our old room, for Christ's sake. We've fucked in there ten thousand times." Eric knew he was never going to win this one. "Yeah, yeah. I know." "Ha! Did you hear that, Ben? That was the sweet sound of Eric giving in!" "Huh?" Ben was shaking. "Like I said, just ignore him. Are you cold or something?" "Please just let me out. Please. I won't say anything to anyone." "What in the hell are you talking about?" "I'm not stupid, OK? I know what's going to happen. Where are you guys taking me?" "East St. Louis, Ben," Todd announced over his shoulder. "We'll be there in about an hour." Ben lunged for the door, frantically pulling at the unresponsive latch disabled by safety features. "I don't want to leave town! Let me the fuck out!" His chest heaved and tears started to well-up in his eyes. "Ben, seriously, just relax. We're not baiting you, if that's what you're afraid of." Ben glared harshly at Eric and tried hard to look tough. "You think I haven't heard that before?" "It's gonna be hard to land a new lover with that attitude." Ben snorted. "Whatever. Why East St. Louis?" "I thought you didn't want to leave town." "Fuckin' trapped anyway." Todd pulled back into the stream of traffic, such as it was. "We're supposed to show you around. You'll see." ******************************************** Todd and Eric always created something of a scene anywhere they went together, but bars were the worst. The gaunt emo-looking kid with them seemed nervous and distinctly out of place, but his ID was good and the three gained admittance. Even at the supper hour the bar was fairly busy and every pair of eyes fell upon them. Ben was already feeling vaguely carsick and his stomach lurched again when he realized he had been taken to a gay bar. This was the sickest joke anyone had played on him. Ever. "Eric, why don't you and Ben grab a table. I'll get drinks." After the ordeal of getting him out of the house, the brothers were shocked when Ben downed the scotch and water that had been placed in front of him. He stared intently at the tabletop throughout the second drink and half of the third, barely speaking and for all the world looking like he was being led to his own funeral. When he finally looked up, Todd met his gaze. "Are you better yet?" "Did they really call me a fag?" "No. Eric's right. I was being an asshole on that one." "Oh." Ben's eyes got wet again. "I really miss John." His small body sagged under the weight of his despair. Todd gently touched his shoulder; for a moment Ben tensed reflexively, then melted into Todd's side. Eric held his hand from across the table. Ben tossed down the rest of his third drink, then pushed the glass away with a groan and a sour face. He still wasn't convinced that the pastor's sons were really gay, but it was looking like he was going to keep his teeth after all. The two /were/ beautiful. Enviously beautiful to a person who hated his own body. Beautiful and confident and smooth. Like angels. He felt pretty sure that there was a sermon coming, but he could handle that. Better a sermon than a beating, and he had a decent buzz going to make it easier. "So how do I tell you guys apart?" Eric flashed him a a playful smile. "Todd curves to the right. Just a little." He winked at them both and lifted his glass. Between the booze and the joke, Ben finally looked like he wasn't going to crawl out of his skin. He noticed that there was music playing. The bar was twinkling with Christmas lights and the bartenders were in Santa hats and jingle bells. Here and there, couples were kissing. Two small, wiry men not unlike himself were pecking and cooing like birds at the end of the bar. Ben watched them, not caring about manners, tipsy and sad. When Ben turned back to tell his unwished-for companions that he needed to use the men's room, he was stunned by the unexpected sight of them locked in a powerful kiss. Eric had both hands on the back of Todd's neck, pulling him to his open mouth, tongues probing deeply. He tried to look away quickly -- to pretend he hadn't seen their exchange -- but it was like trying to look away from a bad accident. Ben felt his cock beginning to thicken just as their mouths parted. He'd been caught. Smiling, Eric held his hand out to their painfully embarrassed charge. "I need to go to the bathroom" He could feel his ears burning. "Come on." Ben stood, swaying sharply. He grabbed the back of his chair and took a deep breath, steadying himself without help. The men led him down a dimly lit corridor and stopped at the restroom. The air in the hallway was stagnant and hung with the smell of men. A shrill wolf-whistle pierced the steady thump of music from the front of the bar. "You boys need any help in there?" The voice sounded effeminate and exaggerated. "Maybe next time," Todd called back and opened the door. Ben had no idea what to expect on the other side of that door. He'd read wanker stories on the internet about bathroom orgies in gay bars. To his relief, there was only one other man at the urinals, and he was tucking himself back in. Still, he knew he'd never be able to get his stream going in front of the blonde gods. He ducked into a stall to pee. They were waiting for him when he finally emerged. "Shy kidneys?" Todd quipped. "Uh, something like that." Eric moved in closer -- closer than guys ought to be standing -- but Ben didn't protest. "Would you like us to kiss you? It's OK to say no." "Yeah," Ben's heart was pounding. Maybe he was going to get a kiss. Maybe he was going to get punched in the face, or maybe they had a camera. Still, he said yes. Eric leaned in toward his upturned face, their lips brushing tentatively. The height difference felt weird; John wasn't nearly as tall as the man who was kissing him now. It was a good kiss. Patient. Accepting. Warm breath cascaded down his neck as Todd's lips danced over exposed skin. When Eric's mouth left, Todd's took its place, and back and forth they went. Eric spoke softly into Ben's ear. "You're so nice to kiss. You're doing so good." His hand slipped down over Ben's slender belly and rested on the crest of his narrow pelvis. "Stop? Or go?" Ben moaned, unable to make words, his body having taken control of his hesitant, skittish mind. Eric went back to kissing and petting Ben's neck and face; Todd wordlessly freed his erect shaft and stroked it firmly. What Ben lacked in length he made up for in girth and he was as hard as he had ever been in his life. He shuddered as Todd continued to masturbate him; it had been awhile and he didn't think he could last much longer, especially being sandwiched between the two hottest men he had ever seen. He made a funny imminent squeak and Todd paused. Ben leaned heavily on Eric's solid chest, his head tipped back and mouth freely accepting Eric's tongue. Todd sank to his knees and enveloped the bloated head of Ben's fat cock in his mouth. His head spinning, his nostrils filled with the smell of Eric's shirt, his ears soothed by reassurances, Ben emptied his balls down the back of Todd's throat much sooner than he wanted. "Is this real? Is this real?" he chanted silently as he watched Todd transfer a glob of his cum into Eric's mouth. The men praised him, their hands continuing to roam over his trembling body. He could taste himself on their lips. A strange voice passed through the soundscape; "lucky little queer" it snipped. Then a husky familiar one was heard. "Please Eric. I can't wait anymore." Except for his one, lone lover Ben had never seen another man's erection. Now there were two, mere inches away from him, hard and full and livid. He'd have never believed this morning what he was witnessing tonight. The twins said little, not needing words to communicate. Todd planted his open hands on the wall over the urinals, waiting; Eric slid effortlessly into his brother from behind, the way eased only by a little spit and lifetime of trust. Ben was hypnotized by the sight. John had tried to fuck him once, but it had been unbearably painful. Eric settled in, snug against Todd's muscular butt. He kissed Todd's neck, then grasped his shoulders. Slowly he pulled back until only the head of his beautiful cock remained inside his twin. Suddenly, Eric's teeth were bared and he was stern and frightening and pounding himself into Todd. Ben reeled backward, shocked by the abrupt explosion of force. Eric brought Todd to his tip-toes with every thrust, the tempo increasing steadily. To Ben it looked brutal but Todd's cock was hard as stone and leaking generously. Did it curve to the right a little? Ben couldn't tell; somewhere in the back of his mind he heard his father demeaning him while his hand twitched for want of touching Todd's cock. Eric's fingers were buried deeply in Todd's muscular shoulders as he continued driving into him fiercely. Ben rubbed his own cock instead, too intimidated by the intensity of the fucking. The two moved together flawlessly, almost as one. Todd dropped one hand to his crotch, making a tight fist around his crank. Eric wrapped an arm around his brother's chest, replacing the support that the wall had been providing. He said stuff. Stuff that Ben couldn't imagine saying but that seemed to make Todd even harder. "Is this what you wanted, Bitch? Bent over a urinal and fucked?" "Uh-huh," Todd was far away, panting more than speaking. "Bitch better cum first because I'm not sucking you off in here." Eric lunged forward, nearly knocking them both off balance. Todd was stroking his cock -- hard -- and a heavy rope of thick cum erupted into the urinal. Ben stood slack-jawed and overwhelmed, not sure what he was seeing. Eric slammed a few more strokes into Todd's spasming ass before himself giving in to orgasm. Appearances turned like a windmill; Eric held Todd lovingly, tender as a lamb on Easter morning. Ben didn't know how much more freaked-out he could get. First he was scared of an ass-beating. Now an ass-fucking looked a lot more terrifying. He sent up a prayer, short and to the point: "Please, God, let them be done." *************************************** "After than, Ben was more talkative but he didn't want to be touched." I wanted to be touched. Eric's story had me all lit up and ready to go. But it wasn't finished, and it had to be told. "He said that he had issues, and he was right about that. Apparently his parents knew about his orientation. His mother seemed OK with it, but his dad was a prick. And Ben drank like he had a hollow leg. He'd be hammered by early afternoon and could still out-drink both of us." "That's awful. Poor kid." "Yeah. We did what we could, but he just wanted to be blind drunk and left alone. He talked about sex some. Mostly, he was just inexperienced and had a hang-up about his body. He couldn't have been more than five-two and a hundred pounds. We told him when we were leaving and gave him an open offer. No strings, no judgments. Just free advice." "And he didn't take you up on it until the last minute." "You are spot on, Maggie. You're quick -- I like that." He squeezed my hand, then brought it to his lips. How could such a small act be so intensely pleasurable? The cell phone warbled again. Eric groaned and keyed in another message. "Jackass didn't want to pick up my airfare. Now he wants to stick me in coach. Fuck that." "Taking the show on the road?" "Not if I have to fly coach. I, uh, I feel bad about setting up a date in front of you. It was unexpected but, um," Eric sighed, "it's a lot of money is all." "Don't fold on flying first class. Coach sucks." Eric gazed at my face with his riveting green eyes. "Thanks." *************************************** Ben knew he was kidding himself, that he couldn't drink away his desires. It was worth a try, though. Besides, if he was going to go through with it he'd need to be tanked. According to the church calendar, Reverend Fred and his well-fed wife Maxine would be at the old-folk's home most of the afternoon. Either Eric and Todd would be home and he'd get what he was looking for or not. He tucked the bottle he was working on inside his coat and stepped out into the snow. Somewhere between the two houses, Ben slipped on a patch of ice and did a spectacular nosedive into a heaping snow bank full of gravel and ice chunks. Freezing grey slush slipped under his collar, down his shirt, and into his shoes. The bottle survived, though. You had to have your priorities. He found his feet and trudged on. He was chilled to the bone by the time he made it to his destination. Todd answered the door. Ben's face was red and scuffed; a shallow abrasion under his eye oozed a drop of blood, no doubt staunched by the cold. Sighing, Todd pulled him into the house. "Who did this to you?" Ben reached into his coat and pulled out the pint of courage he'd been carrying. "This guy. I fell down." Three-quarters of the bottle was filled with empty space. "Come on," Todd took the whiskey and helped him to the couch. "You're going to kill yourself with this shit." "I don't need a lecture." "Debatable. You do need to get these wet clothes off though." Todd called to Eric who arrived in time to help pull soggy shoes and socks off Ben's cold feet. "We'll put this stuff in the dryer for you." "OK." Ben made no protest while Todd stripped off his clammy jeans, nor when he pulled away the wet boxers. Eric had already brought in dry clothes and a blanket. Todd grasped Ben's shirt at the shoulders. "Arms up." Ben's cooperation suddenly vanished. He twisted sharply, trying to push Todd away. "No. My shirt is fine." "Your shirt is soaked. It's coming off." Eric caught his flailing hands and held them at the wrists while Todd brought the shirt up and over his head. Ben's chest was cross-hatched with thin, linear scars and cuts in various stages of healing. "Goddamn. I ... I had no idea, Ben." All three grabbed for the blanket simultaneously, Ben a split-second ahead of the others despite his intoxication. He covered himself quickly, like a rabbit dashing for cover under a brush pile. A Widow's Tale Ch. 03 "It's not something that just pops up in conversation," Ben said quite clearly, his voice surprisingly strong. "A lot like fucking your brother I imagine." Todd opened his mouth to answer but snapped it shut when Eric glared at him, mouth down turned and shaking his head. "Go put these in the dryer," Eric instructed, handing Todd the wet clothing, "and I'll get something for your face. Ben, here's some dry things. We'll be back in a couple of minutes." Ben nodded, grateful for Eric's intercession. He was dressed when they returned and getting warm enough to shiver. He guessed he may have not gotten up from his fall as quickly as he first thought. It was good to be in flannel, even if the pants were way too long. Eric returned holding a washcloth and rubbing alcohol. "This is going to sting." Ben flinched more from the smell than the discomfort. Discomfort had its place in his life. "Do you know why I came here?" "I could guess, but I'd rather hear you say it." "I can't get it out of my head -- you and Todd. The other night." "Mm-hmm," Eric continued to dab at Ben's face. Todd sat on the arm of the sofa, attentive. "It scared me. Lately, everything scares me. I fuckin' cut the shit out of myself, thinking that if I have the balls to cut myself then I have the balls to be myself. And then I see two guys actually touching each other the way they want and they don't care how it looks, and what do I do? Crawl into the corner and freak out." Todd corrected him gently. "You didn't just stand in the corner." "Oh, yeah, right. You blew me first, then I freaked out and tried to become one with the wall." "Is that what has you so upset? A blow job?" No! Fuck no. That was ... wow. Look, I ... I don't know what I'm supposed to DO, alright. I get into the deep end and I panic." "What is it that you want?" Ben leveled his eyes with Eric's. "I want you to fuck me." "You're drunk and we're getting ready to leave." Eric pointed to their packed bags sitting near the door. "But," Todd added, "if we were to consider this, we have terms." "Terms? What kind of terms?" "Well," he continued, "normally that would involve, ah, remuneration is the polite word. But, if you would be willing to get some help for your other problems, we'd be willing to take our time and make it nice." "Speaking of time, dear brother ... " "They'll be visiting heaven's waiting room for another three hours. It's your call, Ben." "Nice. It has to be nice." "Whatever the Gentleman requires. And our terms?" "I have to face myself someday anyway, right?" "I think you've already started." Eric had taken out his wallet and held a business card between his index and middle fingers. "This is going in your coat. Inside pocket. We expect to hear from you." He secured the card in Ben's jacket and retrieved condoms and lube from his toiletries. Todd drew Ben's face close. "If you say slow down, we slow down. If you say stop, we stop. Trust is everything. Do you trust us? Ben slipped out of the oversized pajama shirt he'd been loaned, baring his scars. "I trust you." His mouth opened in anticipation and he wasn't kept waiting. He let himself be gathered up in Todd's strong arms, feeling alive for the first time in months. He was still cold but Todd was deliciously warm. His cock stirred; he could feel his pulse filling it to stiffness and it didn't take long for it to move in time with his racing heart. Todd's mouth covered his and this time he kissed back, running his hands through Todd's pale hair. A second set of hands joined in as Eric massaged his back and licked at the nape of his neck. Someone dragged fingers over his chest, brushing nipples that were as erect as his dick, sending a jolt of pleasure through his entire body. Ben tugged at Todd's shirt. "Let me feel your skin on mine." Eric's mouth darted around Ben's shoulder blades as Todd bared himself. As soon as he was back in Todd's arms he felt Eric moving behind him, and was enveloped in skin from both sides. Warm, smooth skin. Hands moved over his back and chest, over every scar without rejecting him. Mouths nibbled on every spot hands touched, inching downward lazily. Ben was drifting, but not from the booze. His eyes closed, he moved with the sensations that washed over him, allowing them to happen as never before. He hardly recognized being moved to the thickly carpeted floor, but when Todd's stoney cock brushed against his own it nearly triggered his release. His eyes flew open. A long moan followed a sharp gasp as his balls continued to creep into his abdomen. He pressed himself against Todd's belly, hooking a leg around him to pull him in tight. Eric snuggled close, his rigid member resting against the curve of Ben's back. Ben shuddered but he didn't struggle. More than semen flooded out of him -- fear and pain and self-reproach, horrid thoughts and stupid actions, everything that haunted and tormented him gushed out of his soul. He didn't cry. He didn't feel like crying. He felt victorious. Almost. Eric's burning cock was still nestled near his spine. He could feel it against him, breathing and waiting. Ben's body had felt ready so many times before, but his mind never had been. Now, here on the pastor's living room floor, with his twin sons on either side of him, in the most bizarre circumstances he could ever imagine, his mind was screaming with readiness. He twisted enough to position Eric's cock between his ass cheeks. "I'm ready." "You're not ready until we say you're ready." Eric turned Ben to his side, top knee bent and supported by Todd's lean body, asshole exposed. Ben's cum was pooled on his brother's muscular belly. Eric scooped some of it up with his fingers and wiped it on Ben's waiting ass, being careful to tantalize, not penetrate. He lightly traced around and around Ben's opening as Todd compounded the sensations with hungry kisses and roaming hands. Ben was hard again. His cock pulsated in sweet agony. He tipped his bottom up, pushing toward Eric in the hope of a slippery finger sliding into him. "Not yet. Slow down." Hot breath tickled his ear. Eric slid downward and pulled Ben's cheeks wide apart. Ever so gently, ever so lightly, he brushed the tip of his tongue across Ben's pink puckered hole. Every touch was like a crushing wave of bliss sweeping Ben farther and farther away. "He might tease you all night. He likes that," Todd whispered. Ben just groaned, floating mindlessly on his arousal, his cock weeping pre-cum. Eric fluttered around his asshole seemingly forever, barely-there flickers alternating randomly with firm strokes of his tongue. There was no resistance when Eric's tongue finally breached the ring of his ass. Ben was steamy hot inside. Buttery soft and hot. He was moaning almost continuously as Eric fucked him with his tongue. Todd was right, he did love the art of tease, of stacking sexual tension and arousal higher and higher, but not necessarily for the benefit of the one being teased. Eric's motivation was considerably more selfish. The fact was, he had his tongue in an all but virgin asshole and his cock was going to replace it in the none too distant future. He wanted to enjoy himself as long as possible with this one. He left Ben panting heavily as he quickly squeezed a large blob of lubricant on his fingers. Ben's ass not only accepted Eric's slick index finger, it swallowed it down eagerly. Eric probed tentatively, watching and feeling for Ben's reactions. Slowly he started to explore the flesh surrounding Ben's prostate. He was sweating now and his moaning progressed to vocalization. "Oh ... oh shit ... oh shit that's good." Ben tried to reach for his purple-knobbed cock only to be intercepted by Todd who redirected it to his own needy erection. Ben seemed just as happy to jerk Todd's cock as his own. As Eric kept working his asshole, Ben's hips rocked in unison with the in and out fingering. "You feeling good?" Eric queried. "Oh God, fuck me please." "Don't worry. I will. Bear down a little for me. I'm gonna slip another finger in you." "Fuck yes," Ben murmured. Eric pressed a second finger against the tight opening. The sphincter hesitated just a moment, then yielded fully to the intrusion. Just the words 'I'm gonna slip another finger in you' nearly pushed Ben over the edge; he was well on the way to a second orgasm. Eric felt him building up and he didn't want him to cum until his backside was packed full of cock. He worked a little more lube into Ben, then eased out slowly. As Eric rolled a condom down his shaft, Ben begged to be sodomized. ****************** In the middle of "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen, the lightning bolt called migraine blasted Maxine square in the back of her head, blinding her with pain and nausea. ******************* "I want you on all fours," Eric helped position him astride Todd's body. He briefly regretted that he wouldn't be able to see Ben's face as he slid into him, but he wanted Ben to be in control of the initial penetration. Todd pulled Ben's face to his, kissing deeply; Ben's hips jack-knifed sharply leaving his ass exposed and vulnerable. The shock of cool lube dripping on to his anus made Ben moan loudly but it was nothing compared to the ecstatic sensation of the head of Eric's cock lodged against it. "Is this still what you want?" "Uh-huh." "Push back against me, slow and steady," Ben didn't delay in following his instructions as he pressed his haunches against Eric's stoney hard-on. "That's it ... big deep breaths ... bear down some more." Ben's heart raced wildly. His arousal had never been so intense. He could feel his asshole expanding to accommodate the fleshy intruder seeking entry into his bowels. It yawned wider and wider until suddenly the head of Eric's cock popped through the muscular ring. Ben gasped in surprise but there was no pain. Soothing voices urged him to rest for a moment to adjust to the fullness inside him. His own cock was dripping slick pre-cum on Todd's muscular abdomen, who was lying supine beneath him. Eric drizzled more lube on his cock as Ben gradually impaled himself on it. Panting, he pressed back and back until his balls were snug against Eric's. Eric gave Ben some time to process the new sensations that were bombarding him, waiting for him to fully relax and adjust. Things were going better than he had expected. Slowly he pulled his hips back -- just a little -- then pushed into Ben's body. Ben groaned with pleasure and pressed back. "Can't believe how good, oh fuck yeah." Leaning closer to Ben's ear, Eric spoke to him softly. "Now you're ready." He pulled out a little further this time before gliding into Ben. In no time, Ben's hips were rolling, meeting the delicious in and out rhythm of fucking. Real fucking, not masturbatory fantasy or tormented dream. Eric moved up higher, changing the angle of penetration so that he could slide over Ben's prostate. It provoked an almost immediate response. Eric felt his balls pull up and a second later Ben was churning out cum like a shaken bottle of champagne. His rectum squeezed Eric's cock tight with every gush of ejaculate. When his arms gave way, Todd caught his fall, petting and soothing him. Raspy breath rattled in the back of his throat, his mouth desert dry from panting and moaning and booze. As Ben gasped for air, Eric leered at the sight of his thick, hard tool stuffed into the tight cavity, spreading it wide. That did it for him. Large hands planted firmly grasping slender hips, Eric forcefully pulled Ben against his groin. Despite the loud grunt, Ben accommodated his deep thrusting without difficulty. As Eric drilled into Ben, Todd urged him downward toward his own burning erection. He'd been neglected long enough. Ben didn't need any instruction; cocksucking was one thing he could do right and he was eager for the taste of cum that wasn't his own. His shaggy black hair contrasted Todd's creamy skin as he dragged his face down Todd's belly, through his own left-behind fluids. Todd's cock was as hard and as hot as a poker in his mouth. He wanted to do a good job, to make Todd cum hard and swallow every drop of his load. As Eric plowed through his ass, Ben sucked Todd to the back of his throat and down his neck. He was bulging full of cock from both ends, skewered and stuffed and reveling in his new found freedom. Eric stabbed into him deeply and Ben could feel his cock pulsating strongly, filling its latex sheath with ejaculate. Todd's hands were on his head, insistently pushing Ben's face into his groin. At first Ben didn't understand why Todd had pulled him off his cock. Eric had departed his rectum just as quickly and he was sitting up, oversized pajamas being thrown at him while the brothers scrambled for their own clothing. Someone was vomiting and someone was yelling. Loud. Blinking his eyes a few times he awakened to the horror unfolding before him. "IN THE NAME OF JESUS CHRIST I COMMAND YOU TO DEPART, SATAN!!" Rev. Fred's neck was bulging and he screamed hellfire and brimstone, spittle flying everywhere. His eyes glinted crazy and he was gesturing wildly with his arms. "Satan's got our boys, Mama, Satan's got our baby boys! APO PANTOS KAKODAIMONOS!!" The speaking in tongues had commenced. Maxine retched and spat a gob of yellow bile on the carpeting, trying to shield her eyes from the light. "That's right, Mama, don't you look at this sin. Oh, my God. Oh, my Jesus." He whipped his head back around to the other side of the room. "ABOMINATION!! SATAN GET OUT!!" ************************ "It didn't get any better. Dad was out of control, insane. Todd tried to talk to him, but it only made him worse. And Ben -- Christ, it was like he was paralyzed or something. I had to put pants on him and damn near carry him out the door. We grabbed our bags. Dad, he uh, he tried to stop us. Got in Todd's face. Pulled back to punch him, but Todd was faster. Dropped him like a stone. Last time I saw them, Dad was, he was raging ... and blood was gushing out his nose, and Mom was bent over vomiting." Eric fell silent, watching the clouds make their way eastward in the sky. "Todd doesn't know this, but I tried to talk to them a few weeks after that. Wasted my time. Got called a 'man-whoring swine'." "You didn't deserve that. You know that, right?" "Yeah," Eric propped himself up on one elbow and kissed my forehead. "I'm over it. I am." "Mmm. What about Ben?" Oh, Ben, yeah. Well, to make a long story short, we bought him some clothes and a bus ticket back to Wyoming. He wanted to be with his boyfriend. They ended up in Seattle. He calls now and then. Doing good." Before I could respond, Eric's mouth was on mine. He was tentative almost, as if he expected me to pull away. I touched his jaw, tugging him gently toward me. "You're crazy for not running away from me, Maggie," he murmured. "But I like it that you're here." "We should go someplace. I want you inside of me." I wasn't the only person wanting Eric Price that day. His phone rang a third time. "Goddamnit," he flipped the thing open sharply. It was a text message: ORD TO ATL UA1193 20:45PM TONITE FRSTCLS. Eric stared at the tiny screen, eyebrows furrowed, then keyed in "OK" and pressed send. "I won't be gone very long -- 36 hours, tops. That's with travel. And we still have some time before I have to leave." "Let's not waste any of it." Eric's face brightened. "When was the last time you had a real vacation, Maggie? Someplace nice, like the ocean?" "Are you kidding? It's been ages." "I have an idea. Come on."