Disclaimer: see Prologue
Title: Taken from B.O.B. - Airplanes
Warnings: not nice.
Chapter Three: I could really use a wish right now
Jim took a step back, "Excuse me?"
"I said 'How much?'. Are you deaf?"
Jim didn't know whether he should laugh, feel insulted, or simply lash out, "You think I'm some sort of a rent boy?"
The man let his eyes wander over Jim's frame, "That's exactly what I think. A noob, sure, but definitely available."
Was that how men used to look at my mam? "No, I'm not. Go fuck yourself."
"I'd much rather fuck you, sweetheart. Come on."
"Certainly not."
The man grinned, "Oh, you are so proud now, aren't you? Let me assure you one thing though: you will come and find me. I give you two days. Keep that sexy arse tight for me, will you? Good night, sugar." He closed the window and speeded up.
Jim remained where he was, trying to understand what just happened. Some guy had just offered him money in exchange for… his arse. He felt his muscles tense. Good Lord, was that how he looked? Like he would sell himself? Then he realized he was being silly. Of course the man would think that: here he was, looking like a bum, dirty and soaked, wandering the streets at night… There was no other conclusion the man could possibly jump to. Besides, his mother had been a prostitute, and she always looked her very best, if her face wasn't decorated with the occasional bruise or cut. You would have never thought she'd sell her body for money. Jim shook his head; he had to do something. He was soaked to his bones now, and it proved to be quite a cold night, if the chattering of his teeth was anything to go by. So he walked on.
The rain didn't stop. Judgement Day? Jim had found no shelter what so ever, and it felt like a lifetime since he had last been dry. His feet were so cold. It wasn't even winter yet, but even summer proved cold this year. And he was still starving. He had actually considered starting to go beg for money. He had to hold on to his pants or else they would just slide down his frame. He smelled, even though the rain had at least provided some relief. Now he smelled like wet clothes- it was a little something. But his clothes looked bad, his shirt was blood-stained and the trousers were dirty as far up as his knees. He sighed deeply: he knew what he could do. He could actually go look for the car. But sex? For money? Jim wasn't very experienced in the sex field. Yeah, he knew what he liked. Of course, every boy his age did. Many lonely nights locked up in the basement… there were only so many things you could do to kill time. And yeah, he had actually had his experience with women. Or, one woman, rather. One girl. One time. Sorcha. His… friend? Yeah, he could probably call her that. They had shared one night. It had probably been better for her than for him; she had a big crush on him. Not that it had been bad for him. He had enjoyed it, even though it had been rather… inexperienced. But she had been nice, very considerate to his more sensitive areas. And hungry. But still… this was going to be different. Would he, could he…. No. No. He couldn't. Give up the last thing he had, his body, for money? No, it was out of the question. But… he could make lots of money. No. No. I can't do this.
And then he noticed he was standing on the exact same spot where the car had pulled up to him. He licked his lips. God, was he actually thinking about this? But… he was hungry, he was dirty, and really, he didn't know where to go, what to do. If he earned a bit of money, he could go and look for a motel room, buy himself something to eat… Food. And not from a trash container, but maybe from a real restaurant. He could buy some new clothes… Really, how important was this whole virginity thing? He wasn't even a virgin anymore, if he thought about it. He was desperate. He needed money to go on… So he waited. Decision made. He would. Just for as long as he needed to…
The car pulled up. The window was scrolled down again. "Told you you would come…"
Jim took a deep breath, "Yeah…"
The man scanned him again, "How old are you?"
"Eighteen." Jim lied.
"Get in." Jim hesitated. "Get your sorry arse in here. NOW!" Jim flinched, but opened the back door. "No. Here, next to me." He patted on the passenger's seat. Jim walked around the car, his mind taking in everything about it. White Ford Mustang. Good shape. The license plate… He opened the door and sat down, trembling already. "What's your name?"
"Marlon…" Detach yourself, Jim.
"Marlon. I'm Frank. Spread your legs, please." Jim did. The man, all the while looking at the street, slid his hands up Jim's knee. Jim felt beads of sweat forming on his front as he felt the hand moving closer to his crotch.
Dirty hands.
Dirty nails.
Disgusting man.
Fat, comb-over.
Vest, camouflage pants.
Smell: Tobacco. Sweat. Whiskey. Fish.
"You ever had it up the arse, Marlon?"
"No…"
"Good. I like them tight." A squeeze. "Well, as a noob of course, I won't give you the money I would give to someone with experience. I'd say…. Twenty Irish pounds." Jim only nodded. "Good. If you're any good, I might give you a little extra money." Another squeeze, harder this time. Jim's back arched involuntarily. "Ever had sex before?"
"Yes…"
"With a girl?"
"Yes."
"Did she blow you?"
Had she? He didn't remember. She had placed his hand on her hips. She had let him take control. And he hadn't asked that of her. "No…"
"That's unfortunate. Well, I'll teach you." Another squeeze. "Unbutton your pants." Jim's finger's trembled as he did. The man licked his lips. "You're scared? Don't be." He was obviously aroused by Jim's display of fear as his hand wormed himself into Jim's trousers and underwear. Skin on skin. "Wow. That's quite the package for a skinny bloke like you. Was it the girl's first time?" Jim only nodded, swallowing down… bile or tears, he didn't know it. "I'm sure you tore her open quite well." Fingers around his…. "I'm sure you taste deliciously."
"Where are we going?"
"My flat. Which is why I have to ask you to pull this hood over your head now. Can't risk police to find out about me." He gave Jim a hood. "Wow, very eager to please me, it seems." he said as Jim pulled the hood over his head as fast as he could.
No. I just don't wanna look at your face anymore. If my fear makes you so horny, I don't want to show my face to you, either. God, Jim, stop trembling.
But he couldn't. And as he felt Frank's fingers stroking his cock… as he felt his cock reacting… he almost fainted.
Unfortunately, only almost.
Don't hate me. I mentioned rock-bottom
