Poor Man's Son - 27. Chapter 26

July 26, 2000

Rome, Italy

Will

We were on his bike, heading back to the hotel, with me clinging to him. Now that I wasn’t nervous about touching him, I had scooted up right behind him and really molded myself to him. It made the curves more comfortable. When we got to a straight section, I moved my hands underneath his shirt and ran them across his abdomen, playing with his treasure trail, and then moving up to his chest. He had no hair on his chest, but he had well-defined pectoral muscles, and he really liked it when I played with his nipples. We got to a stoplight and he turned his head. “You are making me so horny. Be careful. I do not want to crash.”

I giggled. “Wait until I replace my fingers with my mouth,” I cooed in his ear. I felt him moan, and backed off a bit, since I wanted to get there alive. We pulled up to the hotel, where he got some looks from the other bellmen.

“They are jealous,” he said as we walked to the elevator.

“It’s their fault they’re not as hot and charming as you,” I told him. As soon as the elevator doors closed, he pulled me into a kiss, and pressed my body against the wall, shoving his own up against mine. We ground against each other urgently for the brief time it took to ascend to the fifth floor.

We got out of the elevator, panting, and rushed to the door of the suite. I searched urgently for my key, hoping to get into the room before anyone saw my bulging shorts, and fortuitously enough, we made it. Now we were in my room. I walked up to him and ran my hands underneath his shirt again, only this time I pulled it off, exposing his magnificent bare torso for the first time. I leaned in and kissed both of his nipples, going back and forth between them, his moans like music to my ears.

He pulled me up and kissed me while he pulled my own shirt off. “You are so beautiful,” he said. “You are like a Michelangelo statue.”

“You are like a Roman god,” I said, as I undid his pants. They dropped to the floor, along with his boxers. I reached down and grabbed his dick as I dropped to my knees. He was right, it was small, probably about four and a half inches long and really thin. I’d seen men with fingers that were almost as thick. He was also uncut, which was really sexy. I peeled his foreskin back and licked the head of his dick.

“I told you it is small,” he said apologetically.

“You were wrong,” I told him. “It’s perfect.” I went down on him and began to suck his dick in a slow but loving way, using my tongue to explore all of his crevices as I did. He didn’t last very long.

“Oh shit,” he said. “Oh shit. I am cumming.” Then he exploded, blasting a sizeable load in my mouth. I swallowed every shot until he was done, then smiled up at him. He looked worried.

“What’s wrong?” I asked as I led him to the bed.

“I came too soon,” he said.

“What? That’s bullshit. I wanted you to blow, I wanted to taste you,” I said. “You came because I wanted you to cum.”

He smiled and kissed me. “Now it is your turn.” He began stroking me, slow strokes designed to keep me on edge. “I do not want you to come for a long, long, time,” he whispered in my ear. He pushed me on my back and lay on top of me, letting me feel the full weight and strength of his body. He ground into me, forcing my body into the bed, and limiting my own frantic thrusts. I was so horny, I was desperate to get off, and I was trying as hard as I could to create enough friction to do just that. “You want to cum so bad, I know you do,” he taunted in his sexy bedroom voice. His accent alone was enough to set me free.

“Yes, yes,” I moaned.

“Beg me to let you cum, beg me to make you cum,” he ordered, controlling my grinding.

“Please Berto, please!” I begged. “Please!”

He stopped grinding and pulled away from me, leaving me quivering on the bed, and involuntarily thrusting in the air at where he used to be. “Now it is my turn to taste you.” My eyes bulged as he kissed and nibbled his way down my body. When he got to my cock, he inhaled me. I guess I wasn’t expecting a guy with a little cock to know how to suck a big one, but damn, did he know how. I took leave of my senses then and screamed as I blew my load right down his throat. I couldn’t have controlled my voice if I’d wanted to.

I was just finishing one of the most amazing orgasms of my life when there was a knock on my door.

“Who is it?” I asked, still panting.

“It is me,” I heard Stefan say. “I heard you screaming. Are you alright?”

“I’ve never been better,” I said. I heard him chuckling as he walked away

“He heard us. Shit, now I will get fired for sure,” Berto said as he jumped out of bed.

“Calm down,” I ordered. I patted the bed next to me and he came back and lay down. “He’s happy for me, happy that I found someone like you to help me enjoy Rome.”

“Do you want to see more of the city?” he asked.

“No, I want to see more of you. I don’t think we’ll be leaving the hotel.” He laughed, he had such a deep laugh it was perfect. Everything about him was perfect.

        

July 26, 2000

Claremont, OH

Gathan

I slept forever, or so it seemed. It was really strange and unsettling to be back in Claremont. First of all, my body clock was out of whack. They weren’t lying when they talked about what a bitch jet lag could be. More upsetting than that, though, was sleeping alone. I was so used to being with Kristin, that I felt like I was floating around out at sea on an air mattress. I was lonely. I heard my phone ringing and lunged for it.

“Good morning,” Kristin said cheerfully.

“It’s a shitty morning,” I said.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, concerned.

“You’re not here,” I told her.

“I will be as soon as you come downstairs and unlock the door.”

“Awesome,” I said, and bolted out of bed and down the stairs, totally forgetting that I was stark naked.

“No clothes?” she asked, as I opened the door.

“Want to join me?” I asked flirtatiously.

“Well yeah,” she said, instead of saying ‘duh’. We went upstairs to my room and made love, and then she snuggled up to me, putting her head on my chest.

I got a whiff of my pits as she did that. “I need a shower. I stink.”

“I like the way you smell,” she said, and sucked on my nipple. Damn, that’s all it took to get me going yet again. This girl could make me horny just by looking at me.

“We fuck all the time,” she said nervously when we were done. “I’m such a whore.”

“No, you’re not,” I said. “Whores charge money.” She slapped me playfully.

“See, you don’t respect me.” I could tell then that she wasn’t playing around, that this was bothering her.

“Kristin, we don’t fuck, we make love. It’s not a dirty thing, or a bad thing, it’s a beautiful thing.”

“Smooth talker,” she said, smiling at me.

“It’s true. I love to be one with you,” I said, pouring it on. “It makes me happy. Doesn’t it make you happy?”

“Yeah, it makes me happy.”

“I can’t believe you thought I was gay. Did the other guys you were with want to do this more often?”

She gave me a dirty look. “With the guys I dated, I only did it with them once. After we had sex, it just didn’t seem right. I guess I knew he wasn’t the dude for me. There was only one guy that I tried it with more than once, and with him, it was only three or four times.” I stared at her, kind of amazed. “What?” she demanded.

I’d opened a dangerous topic, and I had to be careful. “That makes what we do even more special.”

“It is special.”

“So how were your parents?” I asked. She tensed up, and I knew that meant it must have been ugly.

“They weren’t very happy,” she confessed.

“They try to convince you to dump me?” I joked.

“Were you there? How did you know?” she joked.

That sucked. It was going to be tough being in a relationship with her if her parents hated me. “It was just a guess. Unfortunately, I was right.”

“It’s not a problem,” she said flippantly. “They told me I couldn’t see you anymore, and I told them that in that case, I couldn’t live with them anymore.”

“You did what?” I asked, really shocked.

“I told them I wasn’t living with them anymore,” she said calmly, which was complete bullshit. This was freaking her out way more than she was letting on. “I was hoping you’d ask me to stay with you.”

“You want to move in with me?” I asked, and then joked with her. “I have smelly socks.”

“I told you that I like the way you smell.”

“I like the way you smell too,” I said, and rolled over on top of her.

“I’m serious,” she said, pushing me away from her, which meant up.

“So am I,” I said, letting her hold all of my weight until she got tired and had to let me collapse back on top of her. “You’re welcome to be here with me as long as you want.”

“Or as long as you’re here,” she said sadly.

“You need to get good grades so you can go to Stanford,” I said severely, trying to mimic a father.

“There’s an idea,” she said. “You’ll probably find someone else by then.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked, pissed off. “I told you that I love you. I mean it.”

“Yeah, but you’ve heard about the Thanksgiving dump,” she continued sadly. “People go off to college and come home for the first Thanksgiving and dump their girlfriend or boyfriend.”

“I don’t know what I can do to convince you that I love you,” I said, frustrated.

“You’re not doing anything wrong,” she said soothingly. “I’m just being all insecure. It’s not every day I tell my parents to go fuck themselves and move out.”

“You told them that?”

“Well, in so many words, yeah.”

“What happens when they send the cops to haul you back home?” I asked. They were powerful enough to do it.

“They asked me the same question,” she said with an evil grin. “I told them I’d have to file for emancipation with the courts. That would be pretty public.”

“Now they are really going to hate me,” I groused.

“What does it matter what they think, as long as I love you?”

“It matters because even though you’re pissed off at them right now, you still love them.” She gave me a dirty look. “I think, though, that while you’re still mad at them, we should take advantage of being together like this.” I moved my hips and slid right into her again.

“There you go again,” she said, only she moaned slightly as she did. “It’s all about sex.”

“Want me to stop?”

“No fucking way,” she said. So I didn’t.

 

July 26, 2000

 

“I always wondered what it would be like to hang out up here,” Berto said as we soaked in the hot tub.

“Pretty tight,” I replied.

“Tight? What does this mean?”

“You have to get used to my slang,” I said in Italian. “It is the same as saying cool, or good.”

“Your language is confusing,” he said, as we both switched to his native tongue.

“Yours is easy. I love Italian,” I told him. “You pronounce all the letters. There aren’t a bunch of worthless vowels lying around.”

“Like the French have,” he joked, cracking me up.

“That’s what my father says too.”

“They said you were abducted in Paris,” he told me cautiously. “What was that about?”

I wanted to lash out and ask who told him and why, but it made sense that if he was supposed to be watching out for me, he should know that I’d already been a target. “A couple of guys that carried a grudge against my dad and his partner pulled my dad and me off the street. They didn’t even manage to keep us locked up for a whole day,” I said, making it sound like it was nothing.

“What did they do to you?” he asked.

I swallowed hard, and then decided to tell him. “One of the guys they hired was in his twenties. He was really handsome, and really muscular, only he had a thing for teenage guys.”

“He raped you?” he asked, upset and outraged, and jumping to a reasonable conclusion.

“I think it would probably be more accurate to say he molested me,” I said. Thinking about that made me feel dirty, and made my skin crawl. It was ironic that being here with Berto, a hot guy that I was really into, actually made that worse. “He was going to rape me, though.”

“How do you know that?”

“He had me on my stomach, my hands bound with handcuffs and had just pulled two of his fingers out of my ass and was lining his dick up to fuck me when the cops burst in,” I said simply.

“I am sorry,” he said sincerely. “Is there, uh...” he got all nervous.

“What?”

“I am just wondering, as we enjoy each other, if there are things you do not want me to do?”

I thought about that, and the smart thing to do would be to tell him that I didn’t want him to fuck me, but I wasn’t sure that was true. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Have you done a lot of stuff with guys?” he asked.

“I’ll answer that, but only after you do,” I told him. He looked like he was going to question that, so I cut him off. “I just told you about my recent problems, it’s time for you to tell me about you.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Start with Rico,” I demanded.

“Rico was my first boyfriend,” he said, and looked slightly wistful. He clearly wasn’t over Rico entirely. “We used to be so good together.”

“What happened?”

He sighed, frustrated. “He was the first man I made love to, and the first man who made love to me. We found that we preferred it when I was the top.” He looked at me, as if trying to figure out which I preferred, but I just nodded, since I didn’t really know. I mean, how can you know what you prefer when you haven’t done them both? “He is very handsome, and he began to spend more time at the club.”

“The club?”

“It is a gay bar that we go to,” he said. “I have been going there for a while now, and so has Rico.”

“They let you in when you were that young?”

He grinned. “When you are handsome, and willing to show off your body, they let you in.”

“I can see that,” I said, leering at him.

“He started fooling around with other guys, older guys. He did it because he liked the attention, and because they bought him presents.” He got sad. “And because they had bigger dicks than me.”

“And you were OK with that?”

He shrugged his shoulders in the continental way. “I did not know about it until I caught him. I went to the club one night when I had not planned to go and found him in the back room with another man’s dick in his ass.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, and moved over next to him to put my arm around him affectionately.

“Thank you. It was a hard time for me. It was even harder when he told me that he did it because I was too small to satisfy him.”

“What an asshole,” I said. This Rico guy was a total douche bag. “That’s bullshit.”

“I am not so sure,” he said dubiously.

“Let’s ask Stef. He’s the expert on sex,” I joked, getting a laugh from him. I was surprised that he got right back on topic. I guess he wanted to talk about this.

“So I broke up with him. After I did that, he seemed to realize what we had, and what he had lost, so he tried and tried to get me back, but he had hurt me too much for me to go back to that place, to be together with him.”

“That makes sense,” I agreed, validating him. “Is that when you started seeing the rich guy?”

“The one he was talking about,” he nodded. “His name is Miguel. He is from South America, and is 32 years old. His family is Brazilian, and they are very rich.”

“Is he your boyfriend?”

Berto looked at me like I was naïve, and then chuckled. “No, he is not. He lives here part of the time, and when he does, I often stay with him. We just get together to do things and have sex. We are not lovers, we are friends that fuck.” Kind of how John and I were now, I thought sadly.

“Have you been with many men?” I asked him.

“Yes,” he said. “Does that bother you?”

“No,” I said honestly. “I just wondered.”

“How about you? Have you been with many men?”

“No.”

He leaned in to kiss me. “Have you ever fucked another man?”

“Only once,” I said. “That guy that kidnapped me.”

“That is a shame. Topping is a fun experience.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it,” I told him. “I just didn’t want to do it with him.”

“And did you ever bottom?” It amazed me that the Italians used the same terms that we did in the US for gay sexual roles.

“I tried once, but it didn’t work. I almost did for that guy that abducted me.”

“There is something about that you are holding back,” he said, reading my mind.

“The first guy that tried was my boyfriend, or at least he used to be. It hurt too much, and I couldn’t do it.”

“He did not know what he was doing,” Berto pronounced.

“That’s probably it,” I agreed. “The other guy knew what he was doing, but I didn’t want him to do it.” I sighed. “Well, my body wanted him to, but my brain did not.”

“Ah,” he said. “I understand both of those situations. I will not push you to do something that you do not want to do, but if we do get to that point, I promise you will enjoy it.”

“I’m pretty sure I would,” I told him. We went to the steam room and messed around there, then took a shower and got changed for dinner. I wondered if he tried to fuck me, would I stop him? I decided that I probably wouldn’t.

 

July 26, 2000

Claremont, OH

Gathan

“Happy birthday, dear Gathan, happy birthday to you,” everyone sang as they finished that obnoxious birthday song. We were at Wally and Clara’s house. She’d made a really special dinner for me, all of my favorites, as if she was trying to make up for her reaction and words before I went to Paris. “Now blow out the candles,” she said.

I inhaled dramatically and was about to blow them out when I remembered to make a wish. My wish was that Kristin and I would manage to stay together and be in love forever. Once I worked that out, I blew them out with one breath. Everyone clapped, like it was some big achievement, and I thought about what a stupid superstition that was, as if blowing out all the candles would secure our love.

“We have presents for you,” Ma said. “Go get them,” she told Zach. He frowned at her, but went off to do what she’d asked. He’d been sitting there at dinner, giving me this smarmy look. He was such a shit disturber. I was trying to remember when he’d turned into this complete asshole, and that had led me to the almost hilarious conclusion that he’d pretty much been like that his whole life.

He dragged in the presents and dropped them on the table in a surly manner. “Thanks,” I said anyway.

“Open them,” Trent ordered. He was really into birthdays. I opened them and most were pretty predictable. They got me a lot of Stanford T-shirts and stuff, and Zach got me a Swiss Army knife, which was pretty cool, even though if I used it, it would remind me of him.

It was the last present that really blew my mind. It was from Wally. I opened it up and in it was a dog tag. The name on it said “Aaron Hayes” and it was from the Marine Corps. I’d seen the displays at the Claremont Museum, with all the artifacts from the Cramptons, Schluters, and Hendricksons, but my family didn’t have much stuff like this. In the Hayes family world, this was one of our very few heirlooms.

“Wow,” I said, as I turned them over in my hand. “Thanks.”

“Aaron fought in World War II,” Wally said.

“What happened to him?” I asked curiously.

“You should ask Stefan Schluter,” Wally said cryptically. “He was the one who did a bunch of research into his military career.”

“I’ll do that,” I affirmed. “That’s a really amazing gift.”

“As the oldest son of the oldest son, they’re yours by right anyway,” he said, more of an explanation to the others than to me.

“I actually have an early birthday present for you,” I said to Brent.

“My birthday ain’t until October,” he said.

“Yeah, I know, but I won’t be here for it this year,” I said. It was really flattering to see that everyone but Zach was bothered by that. I gave Brent a small box that was wrapped up really nicely.

“You wrap that yourself?” Zach asked sarcastically. I wasn’t the best gift wrapper in the world.

“Nope, I had some help,” I said, and leaned in to give Kristin a kiss on the cheek.

“That explains it,” Brent said, and smiled at her. He had an eye for pretty girls, even though he usually dated girls who looked like whores. He opened the box carefully, as if to honor Kristin’s hard work, and pulled out the title to the Dodge, signed over to him, and the keys. “Your truck? You’re giving me your truck?”

“You did most of the work on it,” I said, playing it off. He got up and almost ran over to me and gave me a big hug.

“Thanks, Gathan,” he said sincerely, with tears in his eyes. Cars were really important to him.

“You’re welcome,” I said simply. Ma and Pa were smiling at me, since they loved it when we passed cool stuff down to our siblings. The other guys were pretty much unaffected by it, all of them except Zach, who was glaring daggers at me.