Touch Me (5 page)

“Still feels good, doesn’t it?” Erik whispered.

“Yeah.”

“Just in a different way.”

Erik ran two slippery fingers over the head of Allan’s penis, firing up the nerve endings. Allan didn’t get hard, but he sucked in a breath and let his full weight fall back against Erik’s chest. His legs shifted restlessly under the continued stroking.

Erik kissed his neck again, licking a path up to Allan’s jaw and then taking his earlobe between his teeth and lightly biting. A tremor ran through his body that time. He arched his neck in invitation, so Erik kept up his teasing while he played with Allan’s cock, refreshing the lube to keep things nice and wet. He milked Allan slowly, eventually moving on to his balls, cupping them in one hand, rolling them in their delicate sac. Allan’s sigh of contentment was unmistakable. His eyes were closed, his head tipped back on Erik’s shoulder.

He reached further, letting his fingertips drift beyond Allan’s balls and skate over his perineum. When the man didn’t protest, he rubbed little circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves located there. Allan’s lips parted, and he spread his legs a fraction wider on the cotton-covered table.

Erik heard the soft snick of the latch on the door and glanced up at the clock, surprised to find that so much time had passed. He had told Cindy to give them a good half an hour before joining them so that Allan would be fully relaxed. When Cindy cautiously poked her head in to see if he was ready, he nodded, and she slipped silently into the room. They had discussed all this in advance. What she should do. How they would work together to bring back Allan’s self-confidence. He had warned her not to speak. This was about building a fantasy.

She stepped out of her skirt and unbuttoned her blouse quickly, revealing an expensive pair of black, lacy panties and matching bra that encased her ample breasts. Cindy was younger than her husband, probably in her early fifties, with a frosted blonde bob that managed to look expensive and not tacky. Her body was curvy, not as toned as it had likely once been, but she was still a beautiful woman in a classic, timeless way.

With his eyes closed and his body humming with pleasure, Allan didn’t even notice his wife enter the room until she stood directly in front of him. Whether it was her presence that alerted him or her light touch on his thigh, Allan’s eyes flew open. “Cindy!”

Erik could feel Allan try to tense up, but his body was too relaxed and aroused to comply. This was his fantasy coming to life after all.

“I thought your wife could help us out,” he murmured, moving his hands back to Allan’s cock to distract him.

“But—.”

Erik grasped Allan’s penis by the base, holding it upright while he rubbed the flat of his hand in circles over the head. The muscles in the older man’s thighs twitched. He inhaled sharply. Erik gave Cindy a nod of encouragement and she stepped forward and placed Allan’s hands on her lace-covered breasts. It was all about stimulating Allan’s imagination he’d told her, building visual fantasies, and she appeared to have taken that to heart.

Cindy stepped closer, between her husband’s spread legs. The table was narrow, and left Allan pinned between his wife at his front and Erik at his back. He appeared to enjoy that because he groaned weakly.

Cindy silently urged him to play with her tight nipples. And then she leaned in and kissed her husband deeply.

Erik, still standing behind Allan, was only inches away from their joined mouths. The mingled sounds of heavy breaths, and lips and tongues wetly smacking, filled his ears. He bent his head and kissed Allan’s neck, leaving a trail of love bites along his shoulder. Allan smelled like George. Felt like George. If he closed his eyes he could imagine it
was
George. George as he once had been—strong and vital.

Allan raised one of his arms to cup the side of Erik’s head and hold him in place. Erik turned his face into the touch, still lost in his own fantasy. He caught Allan’s thumb
gently between his teeth, swiped his tongue across the fleshy pad and sucked the digit into his mouth.

Allan rolled his head on Erik’s shoulder, breaking the kiss with his wife. When Erik opened his eyes, he found Allan’s gaze, heavy-lidded and dazed, mere inches away, focused on his lips. The expression of gratitude on his face broke Erik’s heart. He increased his suction and Allan began to slide his thumb in and out of his mouth.

Unbidden, Cindy dropped to her knees in front of the table and began licking and kissing Allan’s cock. Erik felt the way Allan’s entire body seemed to contract all at once with the dual stimulation.

With his hand under Allan’s thigh, Erik urged the man to raise one leg. He bent it at the knee with his foot resting on the table’s edge. It was an awkward position, but Allan wasn’t complaining. Not even when he slipped his fingers beneath Allan’s balls and pressed up against his perineum.

Allan turned his head, sank his teeth into Erik’s bicep, muffling an anguished groan.

He and Cindy continued to work in tandem to ratchet up Allan’s enjoyment; he held Allan’s balls tight for Cindy to suck; Cindy licked her husband’s taint while Erik toyed with his cock.

Together they had Allan trembling and gasping with pleasure, but because of his position, he couldn’t move very much. He was effectively trapped, forced to let them do what they wanted. All he could do was crane his head to watch.

Erik reached for the massager, set the internal vibrator to pulse and then wedged the widest part of it, which would normally fit inside the body, beneath Allan’s balls so that it lined up against his perineum. “Jesus,” Allan groaned at the sensation.

Erik wished now he’d used this on Jeremy. The kid had enjoyed the slim-line vibrator so much that his reaction to this would probably be spectacular. Just imagining it sent a bolt of raw desire to his groin. He felt himself grow hard. It had been almost five months but he still couldn’t get the kid out of his head. Sometimes, when he was desperate, he used his memories of the session with Jeremy to get off on, but he pushed them aside now. This was Allan and Cindy’s time.

He looked down at Cindy’s blonde head between her husband’s thighs, and his own vision became blurry. After tonight, she would have her man back and he wouldn’t.
His
man was slipping away day by day. He fought off his melancholy. He had to remember this session wasn’t about him, or even George anymore.

To Erik’s surprise, Allan brushed his hand aside and claimed control of the massager. He rocked it against himself, shifted his position so that he was almost sitting on it. The device stimulated his prostate from the outside. “Wish I’d listened to you,” he confessed, words slurring together with his loss of control. “This feels fucking amazing.”

“It’s even better inside.” Erik found Allan’s nipples and pinched them lightly, rolling them between finger and thumb, cranking up the man’s pleasure another notch. He kept at it, applying a steady, relentless rhythm that had the older man squirming, but not in pain.

Suddenly, Allan cried out in surprise as his body convulsed in unexpected orgasm. Tremors ripped through him. He bucked on the table. If Erik hadn’t been holding on to him, he might have toppled straight off, but Erik just tightened his arms around the man’s torso and let him ride it out.

Minutes went by as Allan’s muscles continued to contract and spasm. Finally, he sagged limply against Erik, breathing raggedly. Overcome. Beneath his palm, Allan’s heart thundered. Tears leaked from beneath his closed eyes and ran down his cheeks. Cindy rose from her knees, gently stroking Allan’s legs, his chest, the love between them thick and palpable. She took her husband’s hand and pressed a kiss to his palm. Her eyes were wet too as she smiled gratefully at Erik.

Allan stirred. He gazed at his wife, softly stroking the side of her face. “I love you, baby,” she whispered. “We can make it.” Erik blinked back his own tears. He gently removed the massager.

“Gonna have to get one of those,” Allan said, a little shaky. He held his still-soft penis cautiously, like a man just learning himself. When he saw the dribble of semen on his thigh, a hoarse sob tore from Allan’s throat. Erik hoped it was relief.

As soon as he was sure Allan wasn’t going to fall over, Erik loosened his hold and let the man lean into his wife’s embrace.

“I’ll leave you two alone for a minute,” he whispered. “Take your time.” He laid a towel on the table and left the couple on their own while he went to gain control of his own raging emotions.

In the corridor outside the room, Erik listened to their hushed murmurs through the closed door. He slid down the wall until his butt hit the floor, the ache in his chest heavy and all-encompassing.

He had felt so close to George in there. Closer than he’d felt in a long time. And yet the hole in his heart kept widening.

It had felt like he was saying goodbye.

“Hey, baby. I heard you had a rough day.” A short time later, Erik leaned over the hospital bed that now dominated the main floor guest bedroom and pressed a kiss to George’s temple. He combed his fingers through the thick, silver hair, freshly washed by Luce. Over the top of the oxygen mask, George smiled with his clear, gray eyes. It was the only thing he was capable of doing now.

Erik gave his scalp a gentle scratch. George might not be able move his muscles anymore, but he could still feel, and he loved being touched. Erik knew that look in his eyes.

The man he loved was still there, just trapped by his own body.

George blinked five times in rapid succession. Their own brand of Morse code. Five times meant “what’s wrong?” or “how are you?” depending on the situation.

Erik put a smile on his face. He hadn’t realized he’d been so transparent, but he supposed that after nearly three decades together, George knew him well. Tonight’s session had left him sad and empty and very aware how little time they had left. Soon the portable breathing ventilator wouldn’t be enough, and George would likely go into palliative care. They both knew it.

He wanted to tell George he couldn’t play their game anymore—he didn’t feel the least bit turned on—but here was his man, bright-eyed, eager and alert. Expectant. Erik couldn’t bear to let him down. Didn’t George deserve what little comfort he could get, if only so that he could momentarily forget about the prison his body had become? This might be their last time.

Erik undressed slowly, making a show of it for George, even though there was a yawning pit in his stomach. His thoughts turned to Jeremy, sweet Jeremy who still emailed him at least once a week, and he felt his cock respond. George’s eyes glittered above the face mask.

Erik gathered up his supplies from the nightstand, lowered the side railing of the bed and crawled in next to George. He slipped a hand inside George’s pajamas. “Let me tell you about Allan and Cindy,” he said.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?” Erik’s question bounced off the waiting area’s soothing green walls. There were three chairs, and only one of them was occupied. By the last person he expected to see again.

The young man shot to his feet, an uncertain grin pasted on his lips. “I’m here for a massage.”

Erik tamped down on the rush of pleasure he felt at the sight of Jeremy. It wasn’t just physical, he realized with a jolt. Somehow that made it even more worrying. In the seven months since he’d had the kid on his table, he’d gotten to know Jeremy. More importantly, he had grown to like him. He knew that Jeremy’s parents had divorced when he was young, that he lived with his mom and younger brother in a town almost three hours away, that he practically devoured fantasy novels and that he was itching to start college. He was a good kid. But this was unacceptable. “You can’t just… show up here.” He lowered his voice to just above a whisper.

“I didn’t.” He smiled fully, showing those big choppers. “I have an appointment.”

Erik glanced down at the schedule on his clipboard.
Jeremy Pedzinski-11:30
. He was aware of Olivia, his office assistant and receptionist, carefully watching them from behind her desk. He sighed. “All right then. Come on back.”

He started back down the corridor without waiting to see if Jeremy followed.

“You own this place?” the kid asked.

“Yes. But I also rent space to two other RMTs.” Erik ushered Jeremy into the first room—a different one than he used for his after-hours sessions.

Jeremy’s brow wrinkled as he looked around. He seemed a bit disappointed to see it was just a regular room.

“What are you really doing here?” Erik asked as soon as he closed the door behind them.

“I wanted to see you again. You sounded sad in your last email.”

“How can you sound sad in an email?”

“I don’t know. You just did.” Jeremy’s gaze probed his. Erik looked away, busied himself with straightening the table.

They had been corresponding since March; harmless stuff. Mostly Jeremy sent him jokes and links to funny videos. Occasionally they delved into more serious topics—among them breaking up with his girlfriend, starting college and his burgeoning interest in a fellow student. A boy this time. They’d even had a date.

Erik gave him lectures about practicing safe sex and tried to pretend he wasn’t jealous.

He hated admitting how much he looked forward to finding an email from Jeremy in his inbox. It was almost daily now, and if by chance a day passed when he didn’t hear from the kid, he found himself unaccountably disappointed. He shouldn’t encourage it. That’s what he told himself every time he responded. This would be the last time. But then he’d get another one and hit reply before he thought twice. Lately though, Jeremy’s emails had been laced with flirty innuendo that made Erik even more conflicted.

He never said much when he replied, so he had no idea how Jeremy figured out he was sad. But as George declined, Erik found an escape in the young man’s words. Maybe that’s what Jeremy had sensed.

“Did you drive down to the city?” he asked.

Jeremy scratched at his scalp. His hair had gotten long and shaggy and he was in need of a good haircut. His smile was guilty. “No. I, uh, I live here now. I’m going to college.”