Lost Boy

Chapter 5

Emmett POV

My corner was poppin' all night last night. It was a good mix of blowjobs, requests for my fucking services, and one guy that wanted to fuck me. I liked the variety of it, kept things interesting. Interesting, but tiring. I was ready to collapse on my bed and just pass the fuck out.

Unlocking the apartment door, I walked into the living room, only to find Edward lying on his side on the couch. His eyes were closed, but his body was too tense for him to be asleep, even though it was around 7am. Typically a time we'd both be sleeping off the previous night. His face was drawn and his brow furrowed tightly, breathing in deep through his nose. Some shit went down last night for sure.

"Ed? Are you okay?" He opened his eyes and looked up at me as I went and knelt beside the couch. "What the fuck happened?"

He sighed and avoided eye contact. "Oh, just some dickhead taking out his pedo aggression on me."

"Aw, fuck, man. Come on, we'd better take care of you. You don't want to get an infection or something."

He nodded and slowly rose up, resting his weight on one hip rather than his ass. That worried me a little bit. Slowly, Edward headed for his room as I went to the bathroom medicine cabinet and pulled out the antibiotic ointment, a few cotton balls, and the dreaded witch hazel. Wetting a washcloth with warm water, I carried the supplies back with me to the bedroom. Edward had only just made it in there and was standing by the foot of the bed.

"Alright, let's see the damage."

He undid the shorts and slid them down. As his dick was revealed, red, raw abrasions stared me in the face. "Shit, Eddie, what the fuck happened? It looks like fucking rug burn."

Edward nodded his head. "Yeah, he fucked me against some rough fabric."

"Jesus. Here, rub this on it." I handed him a bottle of aloe vera from the dresser. Good for sunburn, or any kind of burn. When the cool viscous liquid hit his skin, he sighed in relief. "Better?" He nodded. "Okay, get on the bed, let's see what this asshole did to you."

Knowing the drill, he did as I asked, lying on his stomach and spreading his legs enough to give me access to his ruined hole. Unfortunately, this sort of thing happened to us hustlers from time to time. I wouldn't call it common, but it wasn't exactly rare either. The street was a rough place to work sometimes, and there were sadistic fuckers out there. Thus, we had done this sexual injury routine before.

There was some dried blood, which I gently wiped away with the wet cloth. He winced as I cleaned him up, and when the blood was gone, I was able to see the damage.

"Ok, there's a tear, but it's not very big. You're mostly just really puffy and swollen."

"That explains the difficulty sitting," he joked flatly.

I poured a little witch hazel on a cotton ball and warned him, "this'll sting," before I placed it on the cut. He yelped and hissed and I quickly applied some of the ointment to soothe the pain and start the healing process.

All done, I wiped my hands on a clean section of the washcloth and got on the bed, lying next to him. "Sorry that happened to you, man. It's not too bad though. You should be okay in a couple days. Just try not to take too big a shit till then."

He scoffed and smiled slightly. "Thanks, Emm, you're a good friend."

"That's what they tell me."

We were quiet for a few minutes before he spoke again. "So, something else happened tonight."

Edward proceeded to tell me about a trick that had picked him up two nights ago, a nice guy who treated him well and even gave Edward some pleasure on purpose as they fucked. Always nice, and pretty unusual. Then, he informed me the guy had come back last night, asking Edward to work for him for a whole week, no sex involved. It was fucking strange, but when Edward told me about the goddamn mountain of money he'd make from the deal, I just couldn't buy into the guy not wanting more than the false identity thing.

"Come on, Ed. There's no way he doesn't want more for eight grand."

"He says he doesn't want sex, I don't know." Edward shrugged. "He insisted."

"Don't believe that, Eddie. He picked you up for sex the first time, right?"

"Well, yeah, but he was different. He was actually like..." He looked away, searching for the right words. "It sounds weird, but he, like…made love to me."

Edward hid his face to hide a blush, but I didn't miss his reddened cheeks. This Carlisle guy was a piece of work, it sounded. What was his angle?

"Wow. You sure this guy is different? This isn't some ploy to kidnap you and turn you into a sex slave?"

He smiled and met my eyes. "I don't think he will, Emm. He's a good guy. You don't know, he treated me like a real person when we fucked. He's just...different."

Conceding to Edward's obvious affinity toward the guy, I replied, "Well, let's hope so. I still don't believe he won't try for more though. Just remember the cardinal rule, man."

-FLASHBACK-

The cardinal rule for a hustler on the streets? In my own words: Prep thyself!

I was going to teach Edward about it tonight. He'd been giving blowjobs for a couple of weeks now, and he felt ready to make more money by doing less work. Giving a bunch of blowies every night wasn't great for your jaw muscles— you really start to feel it after a while. It's better if you can offer lots of different things to the johns. Variety is the spice of life, as they say.

The number one most important thing every hustler must do before he goes out with the intention of being picked up by men for sex was to prepare oneself. Very few dudes are gonna want to take the time to make sure your ass is ready for their cock; they just want to ram it in. So, any smart hustler will stretch his own asshole before he goes out for the night. Some wear a butt plug too, but I found the removal awkward and off-putting for johns.

I had set up some large pillows on the living room floor for myself. Edward was sitting on the floor as well, but with his back leaning against the couch. He looked really uncomfortable that I was about to show him how to do this, literally by watching me stretch myself.

"Do we really have to do this?"

"Yes, Edward, we do," I said, some annoyance coming through in my voice, even though I tried to hide it. "You better drop your shame at the door if you're going to be doing this kind of work, man. Like I told you, when you offer sex, you never know what you're gonna get out there. This is the smartest thing you can do if you're working out on the streets. Open yourself up first, or suffer the fucking consequences, literally."

He rolled his eyes at my little pun. "I would think you'd be kind of, I don't know, intimidating to these guys. Not that you aren't hot," he rushed to explain. "You are. I just didn't realize there was a big market for your, uh, body size. I thought men would pick you up more so you can fuck them, not the other way around."

"Well, Eddie boy, there's something to be said for the little pipsqueak being dominant over the big old bear. I'd say it's probably every gay twink's wet dream. I get a lot of that action. But, you're right, more dudes want me to fuck them. Still, you should always be prepared to get fucked. Watch and learn, boy."

I leaned back against the pillows and slid my boxer briefs down my legs, kicking them to the side. Bending my knees, I spread my legs, and held my balls out of the way with one hand, exposing my tightly closed hole to Edward's eye. He looked a little horrified by the sight before him, but his gaze was glued to my ass as I dribbled some lube liberally over my hole. Circling it with my fingertip, I started to gently press against the wrinkled flesh, my dick starting to respond to my touch. Suddenly, I felt awkward having Edward watching me like this.

"You know what, Edward? Follow along."

"Huh?"

"It's better to learn by doing, and besides, it's a little awkward doing this by myself! Now strip!"

After a moment of hesitation, he complied, albeit bashfully, shedding his pajama bottoms and taking up a similar position to mine. I drizzled more lube over my hole before passing the bottle over to him. "Come on, do what I do."

He avoided eye contact, which was fine with me. I wasn't doing this because I got off on it or anything. But I did come to care about Edward in the time that he'd been living with me. He was my friend, the first one I'd had in a long time. You can't exactly keep in touch with your friends from your old life when you did what I do for a living.

As a friend, I didn't want him to get hurt, especially since I was the one who introduced him to this line of work. Also, he wasn't gay and hadn't done anything like this before, making it an all the more important lesson.

Once he'd coated his own fingers and hole with lube as I had, I resumed, holding my balls out of the way. He did as I did, circling, pressing—gently at first, then firmer until one finger sank inside each of us. He gasped a little, but was otherwise okay. One finger is nothing really.

"Now move it in and out."

Once his finger started moving smoothly and his cock started to grow, I said, "Move it around in a circle, widening yourself, then add another."

He mimicked me as I followed my own directions. Sliding the second one inside, I heard him gasp again, and when I looked up at him, his lip was caught between his teeth.

"Just wait until you get used to it, and when you're ready, open and close your fingers like a pair of scissors, and twist them around in there."

He nodded, eyes tightly closed, lip still caught. After a minute or two, his hand started to move as he followed my instruction. My cock was starting to get pretty hard by my own ministrations, and while his was not quite so hard, it hadn't gone soft either. That was a good sign for his future in this business.

When he appeared comfortable with where he was at, I continued, although my voice was a little breathier than before. "Okay, it's time for the third. If you stroke yourself, it'll make it easier."

He looked a little wary about masturbating in front of me. Man, this kid was green. Even though I didn't need to do it, I started stroking myself to make him feel better about it. It worked, and he grasped his cock, squeezing it on the uptake, dipping his thumb in his slit before the downstroke. On the next upward stroke, he started to work in the third. He groaned in discomfort when he got the tip of his finger inside, and stroked himself harder, faster. Soon, the finger slipped in, and his hand slowed as the discomfort grew. He came to a stop, and I knew I had to get this job finished.

I nodded at the bottle next to him. "Put more lube on it, then twist them around so your palm faces your cock."

He grabbed the bottle and squirted a whole lot on, working it into his hole until it was nice and wet, and turned his hand.

"Ok, look at me." I raised my free hand and made a come-hither motion. "Do that against the top wall."

Edward looked from my hand to my face and we made eye contact. But that only lasted for like two seconds before his head fell back and he cried out loudly.

A chuckle escaped me as he made the motion again, his back bowing and his cock leaking, fully hard now. He did it two more times, not able to keep from moaning, and I watched as his cock throbbed before a whole lot of cum erupted from his dick. His fingers slipped out as he slumped and panted.

"See?" I said with a smile. "Not so bad if your trick hits your spot right."

Edward blushed furiously, hiding his face with his forearm.

"No, seriously. You can try to move the angle so it happens easier."

"Okay, Emmett, thanks," he muttered, still terribly self-conscious.

I shook my head at his embarrassment. He was really going to have to work on losing that. It just wouldn't do on the street. But that was a lesson for another time.

"I've got an extra dildo you can practice with. Just remember," I told him, closing out our lesson, "before you go out each night, prep thyself!"

A/N: I just love Emmett. Do you like their friendship?