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    CarlHoliday
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

A Love Story - 8. Chapter 8 - God's Day

“Good morning, lover,” Erik whispered in Ben’s ear, who opened his eyes and turned his head until he was facing the other boy.

“Is that what I am?” Ben whispered.

“After last night, I have to assume so. Didn’t you enjoy yourself?”

“I enjoyed you.”

“Yes, and I enjoyed you, too. I’ve had my morning pee. Do you need to go or do you want to stay here and get to know me better?”

“I’d better go,” Ben said as he slipped out of the bed. “Be right back.”

When he returned, he saw that Erik had pushed all the bedcovers down to the foot of the bed and was idly lying on the red and green flannel bottom sheet softly stroking his hard cock. Ben climbed up on the bed and Erik said, “Oh, hi, that didn’t take long.”

“No, the worst part was trying not to think of you because that kept my cock hard. Finally, I thought of my mother doing smack in the bathroom and my cock softened enough for me to pee.”

“I bet you’re not soft now,” Erik said as he searched Ben’s body until he took the other boy’s cock in his hand. “What do you want me to do with it?”

“I don’t know; maybe, you should just do what you want.”

“I was hoping you would say that. I want you to fuck me.”

“Are you sure? I’ve never done that.”

“There’s always a first time. But, first, I want you to rim me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Here I’ll make it easier for you,” Erik said as he pulled his legs up until his knees were beside his head. “See my ass?”

“What do I do with it,” Ben asked worriedly.

“Kiss it. Lick it. Imagine it’s my mouth. Love it. Make it moist and welcoming for you cock.”

“Do I have too?” Ben asked.

“Come on, lover, make love to me.”

Ben laid down on the bed and spread Erik’s ass cheeks. He stared at the object of requested deed and leaned in a little until his lips touched the puckered hole. He tentatively stuck out his tongue and licked around the smooth skin. He thought of his own hole with all the hair that was around it, but Erik didn’t have any hair down here. What had he done?

“Let me have your cock,” Erik said. “You can love my hole while I suck your cock.”

Ben got up on his knees, crawled up to Erik’s head, and straddled him so that his cock was over the other boy’s mouth. He lowered himself until his mouth was once again focused on Erik’s smooth hole. He tried not thinking of what was occurring with his cock as he focused his mind and mouth on what was before him; except, he couldn’t ignore the sensations he was experiencing from Erik’s mouth on his cock. He didn’t know what to do other than to raise up a little until he could take Erik’s smaller cock in his mouth. He didn’t know quite what to do with it, but he did have the sense to keep his teeth from the tender skin. He worked his tongue over the head while pressing against the shaft with his lips.

After an untold number of minutes, Ben felt the unmistakable sensation of an orgasm building in his balls. He redoubled his efforts on the cock in his mouth and as he felt the overwhelming sensation of come erupting from his, he felt his mouth being filled with Erik’s come. The taste, as he experienced the previous night, was acridly sweet and he swallowed until the come ceased spurting on his tongue. He waited a moment and then rolled off Erik.

“Wow! That’s was great,” Erik whispered. “I can’t believe that was only the second time you’ve done that.”

“I just did what you were doing to me,” Ben said. “Was it okay?”

“Come here, lover, and kiss me.”

Ben scooted beside Erik and they kissed as young lovers. In doing so, Ben felt Erik’s hand grasp his cock. He couldn’t do anything except give into the other boy’s seemingly constant need for sex.

“There’s lube in my nightstand,” Erik whispered. “Put some on your cock and in my hole.”

Ben did as he was told and soon he had the head of his cock pressed against Erik’s slicked opening.

“Come on, Ben, enter me,” Erik said.

Ben pushed his cock into Erik until he couldn’t go any farther. He held himself for a moment until pulling back half the length of his cock and then pushed back in.

“Oh, yes, lover, fuck me like you mean it,” Erik hissed.

Ben adjusted himself so that Erik’s thighs were resting on his shoulders and then he assaulted the younger boy as vigorously as he could.

“Oh, Ben, fuck me,” Erik breathed. “Oh, God, do it! Do it! Do it!”

Ben looked down and resting his shoulders on Erik’s thighs, he moved his hands over the other boy’s nipples and pinched them as hard as he could.

“Oh, God, Ben, do it!” Erik hissed as he took hold of his hard cock and pulled at it. “Do it, Ben, do it!”

Ben felt the orgasm rising in his balls and he buried his cock deep in Erik’s ass. As he came, he watched come spurt out of Erik’s cock and splash onto his chest and abdomen. Ben stayed in the other’s ass as long as he could before, finally, pulling out. He laid down on Erik and kissed him as only young lovers kiss.

“Was that okay?” Ben asked.

“Oh, God, yes, I’ve never been fucked so good.”

“You’ve been fucked before?”

“To be honest, no; you’re my first. But, I wanted you so much, I couldn’t let you stop.”

Ben let that thought cycle through his mind and, finally, realized that he must be gay. How else was it possible that he could love Erik and not be gay? He leaned back until his mouth met Erik’s and kissed him deeply. He noticed that he was still hard, but he rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling.

“You know, Erik, I still can’t believe I’m gay,” Ben said.

“Maybe you’re not.”

“How can I not be? I’ve sucked your cock, made love to your ass, and fucked you, that certainly doesn’t make me straight.”

“No, but maybe you’re bi,” Erik said.

“What’s that?”

“You like having sex with girls and boys.”

“Erik, I only love having sex with you.”

“Then, my dear lover, I suppose you are gay. Do you have a problem with it?”

“I don’t know how the people I live with will take it?”

“Didn’t you tell me their son was gay?”

“Yes, but I’m their foster kid. If they don’t like me, they can have me assigned to some group home.”

“From what I’ve seen, they’re not going to do any such thing. From what you’ve said, they’re the most loving people in the world. No, Ben, you can be as gay as you want and I am very happy that you love me as much as I love you. Okay?”

“Okay,” Ben said. He leaned over and kissed Erik; and, then he kissed him on the neck, chest, abdomen, and took Erik’s cock into his mouth. It quickly hardened, but Erik said, “No, not now, we have to get ready for church. Plus, we have to have breakfast before we go.”

Ben came up from the stiff cock and kissed Erik full on his mouth. When he came up, he said, “Okay, lover, we can finish this in the shower.”

* * *

The boys sat down at the dining table and waited for Erik’s housekeeper to bring in breakfast. Ben looked around the dining room and noticed two paintings on either side of the table. Although he wasn’t educated in art, he did recognize these works of art as probably being quite expensive considering Erik’s wealth. Rich people hung very good art, but poor people generally hung prints of something mediocre that appealed to their uneducated taste.

“Your paintings are interesting,” Ben said.

“Yes, my attorney picked them out. I can’t see them, of course, so they’re meant to impress my guests.”

“How many guests do you have?”

“You’re the first. I’m not too popular at school. I’m defective and rich kids don’t like defectives.”

“That’s not right.”

“No, but what can I do about it?”

“You could be homeschooled, like me.”

“You said that yesterday.”

“Well, you could come over to Brooklyn and be homeschooled by Miss Sylvia and Mr. Thompson.”

“I’ll have to check with my attorney.”

“Is he your guardian or something?”

“Yeah, something.”

“Ah, you two have finally come out of the bedroom,” Miss Bea said at the kitchen door. “Are you ready for breakfast?”

“Yes, something light, we’re going to the Lutheran church this morning,” Erik said. “And, then have something more substantive afterward.”

“Very good,” Miss Bea said.

“I thought you go to a Unitarian church,” Ben said.

“Usually, I do, but I’m thinking we should go to the Lutheran church today.”

“Why?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe it’s because I’ve found a boyfriend and want to make sure God is on my side.”

“Are you going to tell everyone we’re having sex?”

“Don’t be so crude. No, I just want to let Pastor John know that we’re friends and might be back.”

“Friends, huh? Here we’re boyfriends, but in church we’re only friends.”

“Do you want me to tell him we’re boyfriends?”

“Well, aren’t we?”

“Are you really willing to be ID’d as gay?”

“Aren’t you?”

“Well, yes, but they already know I’m gay.”

“How?”

“I told them in Sunday school.”

“Are we going to Sunday school?”

“We can, if you want.”

“Okay boys, here’s your Cream of Wheat and your orange juice,” Miss Bea said as she came out of the kitchen.

“Miss Bea, would you please describe Ben to me,” Erik said.

“Well, he’s rather slender, his hair is what some might call dirty blond, his whiskers on his upper lip and chin are darkening, his eyes are brown, his eyebrows are long and thin, his face is long and angular, his nose is rather long and it ends in a definite point, he has thin lips, his ears are longer than round and his earlobes hang free, and his sideburns are longer than the whiskers beside his ears.”

“Thank you, that was excellent.”

After Miss Bea disappeared back into the kitchen, Ben said, “Why do you want to know what I look like?”

“Well, you see, I can’t actually see you. It’s all tactile impressions. Like I can’t tell the color of your hair, your eyes, or that your whiskers are probably darkening because they’re actually turning into whiskers rather than the peach fuzz on my face. I knew about your earlobes and your lips, but I didn’t have a clear picture of your face. I thought it was long and narrow, but now I know it is angular, too. Let’s eat because we need to get ready to go to church.”

“Is this all we’re having for breakfast?” Ben asked.

“For now, yes, but after church we’ll have a big lunch at an Italian place I know on the other side of the park.”

“Do you want to go to the park?”

“Why? I can’t see anything.”

“But, parks are beautiful places to visit.”

“Ben, look at me. Do you see a boy who can see the beauty of a park?”

“Well, no, but …”

“No, buts, I don’t want to be reminded of that place over there.”

“But, why did you move here?”

“My attorney thought I would enjoy being near the park.”

“But, you don’t.”

“Yes, and that’s the problem. My attorney didn’t listen to what I wanted, but my apartment is quite sufficient to my needs, so I won’t be leaving.”

“They have horse-drawn carriages over there.”

“Why would I want to ride in such a thing. Ben, I can’t see the park. Hell, I couldn’t even see when the horse shit, though I certainly would smell it. No, I don’t need to go to the park.”

“But, where do you want to go?”

“I want to take a train trip to the Pacific Coast.”

“Why there?”

“Just ’cause. Will you go with me?”

“Certainly.”

“Good, we’ll go this summer sometime when I can get reservations.”

Ben thought about travelling across the U.S. on a train, but couldn’t get a clear picture of where they would be going and how they would get there. He wondered if Ernie would let him go with Erik. How would it be for the two of them to travel to the other coast?

“Where do you want to go on the Pacific Coast?” Ben asked.

“L.A., definitely not San Francisco,” Erik said.

“Why?”

“Disneyland is south of L.A. and Six Flags is north of L.A. Plus, there is a beach near L.A. I like going to beaches. I was raised on the coast of Maine.”

“So, where do I come into this trip?” Ben asked.

“You’ll be with me, of course. Do you like rollercoasters?”

“I don’t know; I’ve never been on one.”

“Do you like the beach?”

“As I said, I don’t know.”

“Then you must go with me so that you experience these places and tell me what you think of them.”

“Okay, whatever you say,” Ben said.

“Good; are you finished with breakfast?”

“In a minute.”

Later, both boys exited the Mercedes and stood on the sidewalk in front of the church. Ben looked across the street and saw Central Park. To his right was a tall apartment building and across West 65th Street there was another apartment building. He knew he was definitely out of his world.

“This is a fancy part of town,” Ben said.

“Yes, isn’t it,” Erik said. “But, you have to remember the people around here are just like you and me only they have a lot more money. I’m blind and you’re my escort. Shall we go into the church?”

“If you say so,” Ben said.

“Take my arm and guide me inside.”

After a few steps, Ben said, “Here are seven steps up to the door.”

“Yes, I remember them,” Erik said. “Stay beside me in case I miss a step and trip.”

Ben did as instructed and soon they were up to the door, which had been propped open. He guided Erik inside and they passed into the narthex. A deacon was standing at the doors to the nave and said, “It is good to see you, again, Erik. Is this a friend of yours?”

“He’s my boyfriend,” Erik said. “His name is Ben.”

“Welcome Ben; please escort Erik to the front pew.”

Ben guided Erik through the nave to the front pew. There were quite a few worshippers on the left, so he directed Erik to the right. They worked their way past five worshippers and their friends until they came to a place where they could sit down.

The pastor came out of a side door and started to welcome the handicapped congregants on the left side of the nave. Eventually, he came to Erik and Ben, where he said, “Erik, it’s nice to see you today.”

“Thank you, Pastor Larsen.”

“And, this is?”

“Oh, yes, this is Ben Hensley. He’s my boyfriend.”

“Ben, welcome to Holy Trinity. Are you from around here?”

“No, I live over in Park Slope.”

“With your parents?”

“No, I’m a foster child.”

“Ah, yes, I see,” Pastor Larsen said as he moved back to the narthex.

The organ transitioned into a carol and the choir joined in. Ben whispered in Erik’s ear, “He doesn’t like me because I’m from Brooklyn.”

“Don’t be so paranoid,” Erik said. “He’s just not used to people coming from the hinterlands to participate in his service.”

“Is that where I live, the hinterlands?”

“Don’t let it worry you. A lot of Manhattanites look down on residents from the other boroughs.”

“This better be good or I’m leaving,” Ben grumbled and then regretted the words. “Sorry, I’m not used to being looked down upon.”

“Maybe, we should’ve gone to the Unitarian church,” Erik said. “I just thought you’d enjoy the service. Plus, they have Holy Communion here and welcome all to partake of it.”

“What’s Holy Communion?”

“Receiving the Blood and Body of Christ in remembrance of the Last Supper.”

“What’s that?”

“Do you believe Jesus Christ is the Son of God?”

“Yeah, I think so, but I haven’t accepted Him as my Lord and Savior and been baptized, yet.”

“What kind of church did you go to?”

“Baptist.”

“Oh, that’s different than Lutherans.”

“What about Unitarians?”

“Well, actually, they’re different than Lutherans, too.”

“Are they like Baptists?”

“No, I don’t think so. I have a booklet at home that explains what Lutherans believe, but since it isn’t in Braille I had Miss Bea read it to me. Oh, the service is starting. We’ll talk later, okay?”

“Okay, if you say so.”

* * *

Ben sat in the Mercedes as it drove up Central Park West until it turned on West 72nd Street. He was deep in thought about his preceding experience at Erik’s Lutheran church. It certainly was different from what he remembered occurring at the Baptist church his mother took him to. It seemed more formal and the taking of Holy Communion was very different from what occurred in a Baptist church. He didn’t partake, but made sure Erik was kneeling at the railing for the first pew. He remembered the Pastor looking at him as if he was something unwelcome in his church. The Mercedes turned left on Columbus Avenue and headed south. Eventually, they came to a traffic circle and went around until they came to Broadway where they turned right and continued south. After a few blocks, they turned left and after a block stopped in front of a restaurant. Franklyn came around and opened the door. Erik got out and stood on the sidewalk until Ben got out and stood beside him.

“How many people are in line?” Erik asked.

“No one on the outside,” Ben said.

“Good, let’s go in,” Erik said as he folded up his cane and held his right arm so that Ben could escort him into the restaurant. “Franklyn, we shouldn’t need you for a couple hours.”

“Right you are, sir,” Franklyn said. He walked around the Mercedes, got in, and drove off.

Ben escorted Erik to the double front door where he opened one and stood aside so Erik could precede him into the restaurant. He entered and let the door shut behind him before he came up to Erik and escorted him to the front desk. The hostess looked up, smiled, and said, “Ah, Erik Robertson, how may we serve you today?”

“A booth by the window, please,” Erik said.

“Yes, sir, I have your regular table reserved; if you will follow me,” the hostess said, as she took a menu from the rack and turned toward the front window.

Ben escorted Erik through tables that were already occupied by couples, threesomes, and foursomes. They came to a booth that had a placard that said ‘Reserved’ and the hostess said, “Here we are, Erik, may I get you something to drink?”

“Coke,” Erik said as he slipped into his side of the booth.

“Sprite,” Ben said as he slipped into the opposite side.

“Very good; Veronica will be with you in a moment with your drinks,” the hostess said. “Did you go to church this morning?”

“Yes, I introduced Ben to the Lutheran liturgy,” Erik said.

“Ben, did you enjoy it?” the hostess asked.

“It was different from what I was used to,” Ben said. “But, other than that, it was very interesting.”

“And, what are you used to?”

“Baptist services.”

“Ah, yes, they would definitely be different than a Lutheran service. Oh, well, I must get back to my duties; enjoy your visit to Mama Colombo’s.”

“She was nice,” Erik said.

“Yes,” Ben said.

“What’s wrong?” Erik asked.

“I guess I’m overwhelmed from what happened at that church.”

“What do you mean?”

“That pastor kept looking at me as if I wasn’t welcome there.”

“You’re just being paranoid.”

“No, he didn’t like me being there.”

“Well, once you start taking classes to become a member, he’ll be more welcoming.”

“What if I don’t want to become a member of that church?”

“Why wouldn’t you want to be?”

“Because they don’t want me there because I’m a foster child from Brooklyn for one.”

“That’s two reasons.”

“They’re one as far as I’m concerned.”

“What if we could find a Lutheran church in Brooklyn; would you be willing to go to there?”

“If you can find one, I’ll go with you.”

“Good, I’ll check. Now, what’re we having for lunch?”

“I don’t know what to order,” Ben said as he thumbed through the menu.

“What do you want?”

“I haven’t eaten a lot of Italian food; what should we order?”

“Usually, I have the fettuccini in clam sauce with peas and broccoli,” Erik said.

“Clams, peas, and broccoli? That sounds icky.”

“Well, what do you want?”

“Let me look; okay?”

Ben looked through the menu and the first thing he noticed was the menu was separated into different types of pasta, sauce, and ingredients such as vegetables, meats, and cheeses. Then on the back cover there was a wide selection of pizzas, but none that he thought would be tasty. He went back to the front and saw rigatoni.

“What’s rigatoni?” Ben asked.

“It’s tube-like pasta, much like macaroni only bigger.”

“What’s lasagna?”

“It’s a broad, flat pasta that is made into a casserole.”

“What is penne?”

“It’s like rigatoni.”

“What is ravioli?”

“It’s a stuffed pasta.”

“Okay, I think I’ll order a cheese ravioli in the red sauce.”

“That’s a good choice. Now, all we need is our waitress.”

“Do you like me?” Ben asked in a somber voice.

“Why wouldn’t I like you?”

“Well, you’re rich and I’m only a foster kid with no future. I’ll never be anything like you.”

“Ben, you’re a beautiful boy who I like very much. Would you mind if I said I love you?”

“That’s awfully definite.”

“But, do you mind if I love you?”

“Erik, you’re so much different than me. I don’t know how to react around you.”

“Ah, may I take your orders, now,” the waitress said as she magically appeared at the table.

“I’ll have the fettuccini in clam sauce with peas and broccoli,” Erik said.

“That is a very good selection,” the waitress said. “And, you sir, what would you like?”

“I’ll have the cheese ravioli in the red sauce,” Ben said.

“And, another excellent choice,” the waitress said. “Are your beverages okay?”

“They haven’t arrived, yet,” Ben said.

“Oh, dear, I’m so sorry, I’ll get them and put in your orders,” the waitress said before she disappeared into the tables between the boys and the kitchen.

“She’s not a very good waitress,” Ben said.

“Veronica is the youngest daughter and hasn’t quite picked up what her duties are,” Erik said. “But, we were talking about your inferiority complex.”

“What do you mean?” Ben asked.

“You feel inferior to me and all that I represent.”

“You have so many more opportunities than me. How can I expect to live anywhere close to your lifestyle?”

“Ben, look at me. What do you see?”

“A boy who has a lot of money and will be more than I’ll ever expect to be.”

“Is that what you see by looking at me? Don’t you see that I’m blind?’

“Well, yes, of course, but you live across the street from Central Park, have a housekeeper, have a chauffeur, and a Mercedes SUV. I don’t have anything and I’ll never have anything.”

“Ben, what if I said you could have half of everything I have?”

“How would I have that?”

“By marrying me.”

“We’re just kids. How can you even think of being my husband?”

“I’ll tell you what; I’m going to call my attorney and I’m going to have him find me a townhouse in Park Slope. And, then, I’m going to put in a homeschool room for us and, while you’ll have to work extra hard to advance to your age appropriate grade level, we’ll graduate from high school at the same time; and, we’ll go to a university together where you’ll help me to get my degree, while you get yours.”

“That’s an awful lot of suppositions.”

“Ben, I love you, and I want to live with you forever.”

“Erik, I wish I could say the same to you,” Ben said as he looked across the table at the blind boy who wanted to be his lover. He wanted to believe that everything Erik said was going to happen, but he couldn’t quite hold onto the belief that everything would turn out as they wished. And, while Erik was only blind; he was well, still, mentally ill and any change in their living and educational situations were as far-fetched as he could imagine. He could not believe that Erik could convince his attorney that he needed to move to Brooklyn so that he and Erik could live close to each other.

“Ben?” Erik asked, “What are you thinking?”

“That your attorney is going to keep you in your apartment overlooking Central Park and will never agree that you should move to Brooklyn so you can be homeschooled with me.”

“Well, I don’t agree with you and I’m going to prove it to you; if only to prove that I love you very much.”

“I’ll believe it when it happens,” Ben said.

“That’s all I ask,” Erik said.

A big thank you to Sharon, my editor, who I hope is enjoying her cruise thru the Caribbean.
Copyright © 2018 CarlHoliday; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Nothing wrong with spunk and determination! but Ben has quite a lot  of hang ups. He must have been exposed to many nasty people and their cruel put downs and so forth.

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2 hours ago, Will Hawkins said:

substantive - when speaking of a large meal, substantial would probably be better used. 

Thank you for your comment. Okay, I'll give you this synonym.

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