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MY FRIEND DARIAN
By Edward Stiles Edstiles243@mail.com
Eric had never been fucked before while lying on his back. He'd only ever been fucked while on his elbows and knees, with his sweet little ass in the air. There was a lot to be said for this position, but...
...tonight's party guest told Eric he wanted him this way so he could look down at his "pretty face" while fucking him. It also meant he could toy with Eric's penis and little balls. He asked, right after entering Eric: "Do you ever get hard when you're being fucked?"
"No, not usually," Eric replied with a grimace. Though the truthful answer would have been "No, never."
"Too bad," the party guest said, a solid six-and-a-half inches' deep in the young boy, and smiling down at him. "It would be fun to make you shoot your load on your belly at the same time I'm shooting inside you."
He added, as he began his motion in Eric: "Don't worry about the condom," meaning the absence of one. "I'm healthy as a horse. I've also been told by more than a few I have the sweetest cum they've ever tasted," a moot point given that Eric would be in no position to savor it tonight. Eric nodded all the same.
"Are you OK? I'll be gentle at first."
For a few silent moments all the guest did was fuck Eric, establish a measured rhythm.
"You really are a very pretty boy," the man observed. Eric, instinctively, had raised his slender legs as the man penetrated him. And now they were wrapped loosely around the man's back, affording the latter a feel, a long caress of the back of Eric's right thigh and buttock. "And your body's so smooth. Do you shave it? Are you really eighteen?"
Eric wasn't sure which question to answer first. The initial discomfort was giving way, gradually, to pleasure. Between moans he replied: "Nineteen."
"Oh. Really? You don't look it. You could pass for sixteen. Fifteen even."
The man laughed.
"I just want to make sure we're legal here."
"I'm nineteen," Eric repeated.
"I believe you."
Eric adding, haltingly: "Darian helps me with it. He wants me shaved at all times. Except for my head, of course," Eric coming close to laughing himself. "He shaves my behind for me. My crack. Hard to get at places."
"Good old Darian. Is he a good landlord? Or whatever he is?"
"Yes." What else was there to say? That he was a control freak? A micromanager? That he was incessantly demanding?
"So my friend Darian rents this bedroom out to you? He feeds you I would guess?" After pause for breath came the question: "So what's he charge you for this little arrangement?"
"Nothing," the reply.
"Nothing?"
"Free room and board. Plus he helps me with my...college expenses. Tuition and stuff at the...community college."
The man was grinning down at Eric as he fucked him. It was a seemingly knowing grin. "So what do you have to do for my friend Darian in return? I mean aside from play waiter at his little soirées."
A couple of frowning moans passed before Eric looked up at his lover and replied: "I do all the cleaning. The housework. He fired the lady who used to come around twice a week. He's teaching me how to cook. So I can cook for him."
"Darian's teaching you how to cook?"
Eric nodded.
"Well Darian is a helluva good cook," the man conceded.
Another nod.
"What else do you do for him?" The party guest went a long ways toward filling in his own blank, while still wearing that knowing smile: "Does he fuck you?"
"Sometimes."
"How often?"
Laughter bubbled up to Eric's lips. "As often as he wants it."
The man laughed.
"We have this routine," Eric went on. "I mean aside from on weekends when he's usually here. On weekdays if he wants to have sex when he gets home...he texts me. So I know to prepare myself."
"And how do you prepare myself?"
"Well, douche myself. Shower." Difficult as it was in his prone position, Eric passed a kind of shrug. "Open myself up?"
The man stopped his motion for the first time since it began. "Do what?"
"With a dildo." Eric went on to explain, not ungrateful for the pause in the man's penis inside him: "He has me keep a dildo in the shower. A pretty big one. He says he always wants me clean inside and he always wants me opened up, so he can slide right in. No drama. Darian taught me those things."
Eric started to say more but the party guest had resumed his motion. This time more forcefully, and with greater alacrity. If his previous tempo had been andante, this was now allegro. Eric's toes, with their painted nails, a bright crimson, curled. Eric felt them curling. The rhythm of his pleasure moans increased too. There was no time for words.
"And before the party. Did Darian tell you to quote-unquote `Prepare yourself'?"
"Yes."
Again that all-knowing, rather haughty, self-important grin. Though this time it seemed all a blur. "I bet he did."
Eric experienced a new sensation. He felt himself approaching a kind of climax. Not the external, male kind, in which he would launch a load on his own belly. That was impossible. His penis was limp. No, this was an internal kind, deep within him. As deep as his lover's penis went at any rate. Deeper--just beyond that. This was a climax of the sort he assumed girls experienced. Women. Not that he'd ever been with one. As a scream rose in Eric he could even feel the timbre of his voice changing.
"Does Darian cum in you when he fucks you?"
Eric's nod was terse, at best. Under different circumstances he might have replied "Always."
"Does he shoot a big load?"
Under different, less imposing circumstances Eric might have replied "How would I know?"
Instead, "Guess." No pronoun--all he could get out in his higher, fem-sounding voice.
"Not as big I bet," Eric's lover announced through clenched teeth, as the flesh below slapped together, "as I'm gonna--"
Eric screamed first. Then his partner. Eric screamed once, in a high-pitched, frazzly voice that was as foreign to him as the accompanying sensation he was experiencing; his partner screamed twice. Three times, a deep baritone by contrast. An orgasmic aria, of sorts.
Eric's next sensation, in this confusing moment, as his partner left his body, his hole, his rectum, abruptly, just like that; his next sensation was one of panic. Their virtually simultaneous orgasms had been voiced so loudly surely most or all of the other party guests, just down the hallway, must have heard. What would Darian think?
Everything had happened so fast. One moment he was innocently giving one of Darian's party guests a tour of the condo, and his little bedroom; the next his colorful panties were off and his legs were in the air. Darian had given his blessing for precisely none of this. Eric could see his roommate's--his landlord's--his Master's--disapproving frown now. Eric was in deep shit, he feared.
Darian had told Eric about the previous boy who'd occupied this room, shared this luxurious condo. Darian had opened a slatted closet in his own bedroom and shown his collection of ropes and whips and paddles as well as a riding crop. Darian had told Eric: "I hope I never have to use these on you. But we'll see.
"Of course," he'd added, deviously, a second thought, "you may be one of those who enjoys pain. In which we'll have to think up something less appealing..."
"That was terrific!" Eric's lover, now his former lover, still on his knees on the bed, was smiling down at him. His glossy cock, though still thick, was drooping down. The spent style and stigma of a beautiful flower.
"Tell me," the smiling man said. "Did my friend Darian ever teach you about what to do after a man finishes in you?"
A terrified Eric now felt confused. He stammered. "You mean...you mean about...?"
"Getting a towel?" the man reminded him. "A towel? Cleaning your man up afterwards? I bet you do that for my friend Darian."
"Oh, yes!" Eric realized, latently, springing off the bed, into action, as only a teenager can: the slender--skinny even--athleticism--all legs and arms and a 29" waist--of a sexual gymnast.
A sheepish, fearful, tentative Eric emerged from the hallway onto the perimeter of the livingroom. Where all sixteen--or was it seventeen?--of Darian's party guests stood staring at him. Smiling at him. Everyone faced him, expectant. The noise had been heard, the word passed. Eric's nameless lover's knowing smile had spread like a virus.
The guests broke out into spontaneous applause. Eric blushed.
One of the other men approached. Many, including this guest, were by now nude, and this man's erection left no doubt what he was after.
Eric fled, veering left and entering the spacious, marble-topped kitchen. Where Darian awaited him. Eric feared the worst. Darian's hot breath on his ear as he whispered some reproach. "Where have you been? Fucking my guests you little slut? Leaving me out here to wait on them myself? Do I look like a waiter to you? Slut? You're in for a world of pain later tonight, my friend."
Instead a beaming Darian, giving his roommate's pantied bottom a pat, said, indeed in whisper: "I hear you've been giving tours of my condo..."
Eric started to apologize. "I'm sorry I--"
"Look," Darian said, lifting his chin in the direction from which his sweet young charge had just come. Lifting his chin at the grinning party guest, another of Darian's friends, the one who'd trailed Eric as far as the edge of kitchen, the one with the shameless erection. "Look," Darian repeated. "Another of my friends wants the Grand Tour."