Eric and Jamie
Part 8
Eric and I had been together for about eight months when he decided
we were going to take a little vacation together. An old friend of
his was having a birthday, and the guy lived in New York so we
scheduled a long weekend leaving Friday morning and returning late
Monday night.
The catch was, I have an irrational fear of flying, and I didn't know
how to tell Eric about it. I mean, I was excited to be going to New
York (I had never been out of California, and really not much beyond
the bounds of L.A.) but the closer we got to our departure date the
more anxious I got.
Thursday night (the night before we left) I was standing in the
corner for five minutes as I did every day after work, and I was
about to voice my fears when Eric called me over to him and began
taking off my clothes.
"We need to clean you up for this weekend" he said, pulling my shirt
off over my head. I knew what he meant by that. Days after we had
first met he had shaved off my pubic hair to cure a case of crabs I
had gotten while living on the street. I looked so bad with that
missing patch of hair that he had shaved the rest of my body smooth
from the neck down.
I didn't have that much hair to begin with, but ever since then he
had used a depilatory to keep me absolutely smooth everywhere from
the neck down except for a very small amount of pubic hair which was
trimmed back very short and thin. Naked or dressed, I could easily
pass for a 13 year old.
I didn't tell him that night, and I lay restless in our bed for
hours. We had moved into the main house the month before, having
left the little garage apartment for future guests. I guess I did
finally fall asleep sometime around 3:00 a.m. because around ten
minutes to 4:00 I woke up with a start.
"Ugh!" Eric grunted. I had accidentally kicked him. When he heard
me sniff loudly he sat up and said, "What's wrong?"
I wiped at my eyes and just shook my head, embarrassed. I had been
dreaming that the plane went down in the ocean and we couldn't get
the doors open and we were all going to drown. Of course, there was
no ocean between L.A. and N.Y., and that made me laugh inwardly at
myself.
"Bad dream?" said Eric.
I shook my head yes and put my head on his chest. He cradled it
there and laid back down, then pulled my whole body on top of his. I
meant to just lay there for a second, listening to the strong
pounding of his heart, his chest hair tickling my nose; but as he
gently shook me and patted my butt I groggily pushed myself off of
him and saw that the clock said 6:00.
We were all packed and ready to go, and after a quick non-sexual
shower together we were off to L.A. International. The traffic was
unusually light, and we got there almost two hours before our
flight. I stood at one of the large windows looking out at the
planes land and take off, and I nearly jumped out of my skin when
Eric came up behind me and put his hands on my waist.
"Hey!" he said. "What's with you today?"
I trusted Eric completely. I was only 18 at the time and he was the
first (and only) love of my life and I was head over heels fallen for
the guy. Unable to control myself I turned to him with tears in my
eyes and said, "Oh, Eric. I don't want to get on a plane!"
"Whoa, hey" he said, pulling me to him. "What's all this about? Are
you afraid to fly?"
I just shook my head yes against his chest, feeling both foolish and
safe at the same time.
"Why didn't you tell me before?" he asked.
My tears dried instantly and I looked up at him and said, "I was
embarrassed, I guess" and then I pulled away from him as a woman and
her daughter came to stand not far from us.
"Come back here" he said, pulling me to him. I was a little
uncomfortable because we were at the airport, not back in our quiet
little mostly gay neighborhood. Reading my mind (as he often seemed
to) Eric said, "First of all, I don't give a good damn what people
think, Jamielove. Secondly, you look so young most people are going
to assume you're my son or nephew or little brother, so just relax."
I had never really thought about that before. If people THOUGHT I
was 13 (instead of nearly 19), that would be a 17-year difference in
our ages (Eric was nearly 30). I laughed and hugged him tightly.
"Okay, 'uncle Eric'" I said.
"Save that for the general public, kid" he said. Then more
seriously, "How afraid are you?" I pressed my face into his chest
and he said, "Come on, look at the man who loves you with all his
heart."
I looked up at him and said, "I'll be okay with you next to me, I
guess."
"Do you really think I'd ever let anything bad happen to my little
boy?" he said.
"No, sir" I replied.
Fortunately for me, Eric had gotten us first-class seats. From the
looks of the rest of the plane, first class was NICE. The seats were
much wider, and it looked like the rest of the plane was packed in
like a bunch of sardines.
Unfortunately, I soon discovered that all planes departing from L.A.
International take off over the ocean, no matter what their
destination. As I saw us clear the beach and head out over the water
my knuckles went white on the armrest of my chair, last night's
nightmare fresh and stark in my mind.
Eric saw this immediately and said, "Come here, little boy" and
literally had to pry my fingers from the armrest. He held my head to
his chest, and as soon as the seat belt sign went off he unbuckled
mine and pulled me to sit in his lap, my head on his chest, my body
cradled against him like a little kid.
He covered me with a blanket, and I pretended to sleep though my
heart was pounding with fear. I was only wearing a tank top and
shorts and sandals, and as Eric's hand slid up my pantleg under the
blanket and firmly and gently held my dick and balls I realized why
he hadn't let me put on underwear that morning.
He had obviously intended to play with me on the plane, but as my
dick stiffened he merely held it firmly and ever so gently tightened
his grip around my shoulders. He sat in perfect stillness, not
moving a single muscle, and the fear poured out of me like water from
a pitcher. I kept my eyes closed, still pretending to be asleep,
wanting him to jack me off (which he didn't). He just kept a firm
hold of my dick, and an equally firm arm around my shoulders and I
listened to his heartbeat and breathing and was lulled into a state
of half sleep.
"You're very lucky" I heard a woman say.
"How so?" asked Eric.
"I can't even touch my kids anymore; big teenagers, you know."
"Oh" Eric laughed quietly. "This is my nephew. He's had a pretty
bad year."
"Twelve or thirteen?" she asked.
"Just thirteen" answered Eric.
"Oh" she sighed. "Mine, too. You must be very close."
"My sister and her husband were killed a few months ago, and we're
all we have now."
Oh, brother, I thought, but kept myself still.
"He just needs a lot of attention right now."
"I'm so sorry" she said, and I think she patted his arm. My right
arm was trapped against Eric's body, and I nudged him so gently that
I'm sure no one else saw. His grip on my dick tightened and relaxed
just as gently, and then I did fall asleep for the remainder of the
flight. I was exhausted after my restless night.
When I woke up Eric had his eyes closed, and when he felt me stir he
opened his eyes and looked down at me.
"Love you" I whispered, and he leaned down and gently kissed me. I
sat up and got myself together, and I was actually okay for the
landing.
Eric's friend Nathan met us right as we came off the plane. I was a
little surprised at how he looked. Eric had said this would be his
40th birthday, but his hair was mostly grey, as was his beard. He
was also only about 5'10" (I had pictured a much larger man from the
way Eric talked about him). He was wearing khaki pants and a white
long-sleeved shirt.
"...and you must be Jamie" said Nathan, extending is hand.
I suddenly realized they had been talking the whole time, and I took
his hand and said, "Yes, sir. Pleased to meet you."
"Ah, there he is" said Nathan, looking passed both Eric and me. We
turned to see a dark haired man in a navy blue suit, about Eric's
age, rushing through the crowd toward us. He was very handsome in
his suit, yellow tie, and white shirt. He was also a lot bigger than
Nathan; not as big as Eric, but close. He kind of looked like a
lawyer to me.
"I'm sorry" he said to Nathan. "What a joke! I just now found a
parking spot."
"That's all right" said Nathan. "Eric, Jamie, this is Paul."
"Nathan's told me a lot about you, sir" said Paul, extending his hand
to Eric.
"Same here" said Eric, shaking his hand. Putting his other hand on
the back of my neck he said, "This is my boy, Jamie."
My face got very hot and I shyly said, "Hello."
"Hi!" said Paul, shaking my hand. I had to smile back at him, he was
so genuinely warm and friendly.
"Gather their things, won't you Paul?" said Nathan.
"Yes, sir" answered Paul, unhooking Eric's bag from his shoulder and
slinging it over his own.
As he reached for mine I said, "It's okay."
"You're on vacation" Paul chided, and took my bag from me anyway. It
WAS pretty heavy. We had both only brought carry-ons to avoid having
to go through the baggage claim area.
Paul led us out to the parking lot. Reaching into his pocket he
pulled out a key chain and pressed a button on it. The trunk of a
Mercedes just ahead of us popped open, and he walked faster to get
ahead of us and put our things in the trunk. Just as we got to the
car he was closing the trunk and he raced around to the back doors to
open them for us. I noticed, of course, and I began to wonder if
Paul wasn't Nathan's "boy."
I was fascinated. I had never met another couple like us, and they
were both so much older, respectively, than Eric and me. I moved to
get in the back with Eric, but Nathan said, "Would you like to ride
up front with Paul?"
"Sure" I said, turning to walk around the other side of the car.
"Jamie" said Eric, gently grabbing my ear. "You answer 'yes, sir' to
Nathan."
I ducked my head and said to Nathan, "Yes, sir. I'm sorry."
"That's fine" said Nathan, giving me a quick hug. He, too, seemed
genuinely nice and I smiled and got into the front passenger seat.
Paul closed the back doors, got in, and started the car.
"Home, sir?" he asked.
"Yes" said Nathan. "We're a little behind schedule."
"Yes, sir" said Paul, and backed out of the parking space. There was
the immediate screech of breaks and a loud bang as the car jerked to
a stop. We had backed right into another car, and the driver was
yelling at us out his window.
We all got out, and Nathan walked over to the other driver as he was
getting out of his pickup truck. Looking passed Nathan he yelled at
Paul, "Why don't you watch where the hell you're going!" He was
about 25 years old or so, kind of heavy set, and really pissed off.
"This is my car, young man" said Nathan, calmly. "Perhaps we should
exchange insurance information."
Without any warning the other drive grabbed Nathan by the front of
his shirt, and pushed him roughly up against the Mercedes
saying, "Damn straight you're gonna pay -- " and before Eric or I
could do anything Paul had not only disengaged the man from Nathan,
but had pinned his arm across the trunk of the car in what looked
like some kind of karate hold.
"Put your hand where I can see it, sir!" Paul commanded with as much
authority as I had ever heard Eric use.
"What the fuck -- arghh!" yelled the driver as Paul turned his wrist
painfully in the wrong direction.
"Put your hand where I can see it, now!" said Paul, and the driver
thrust his free arm out over the trunk. Paul quickly ran his hand
over the man's body, obviously searching for a weapon. When he found
none he said, "If I let you up are you going to control yourself?"
"Yes, God damn you!" said the driver. "Let me go!"
"This wasn't an accident or a lucky break, buddy" said Paul. "I
don't want to hurt -- "
"All right, all right" said the driver more calmly. "Just let go."
Paul released him and said, "I'm very sorry for bumping into your
truck, but it doesn't look like there's any damage." It was true.
For as loud as the bang had been when we 'collided' there wasn't any
visible damage to either car.
"Fuck you!" said the driver and jumped into his truck, slamming the
door. In the next instant he gunned his engine and his tires
screeched as he pulled away.
Paul turned a stricken look to Nathan and said, "I'm so sorry. Did
he hurt you?" He was brushing at Nathan's shirt as he said this.
Nathan scowled, but said calmly, "I'm fine, Cricket. Why don't we go
home now." Turning to me he said, "Maybe you should ride with
Eric." I hadn't even realized that I was clinging to Eric. I did
feel pretty frazzled, everything had happened so quickly.
It was a lovely drive through upstate New York, and when we got to
Nathan's home it just about took my breath away. Nathan, apparently,
was LOADED. He had an old English Tutor style house that sat on what
must have been four or five acres of land. Paul stopped the car in
the middle of the half circle driveway, hopped out, and opened all of
our doors.
We all piled into the house, and an old man who only went by "Hudson"
said, "I've kept lunch warm, sir."
"Thank you, Hudson" said Nathan. "Please take our guests' bags to
their rooms."
"Very good, sir" said Hudson, rather stiffly.
When we walked into the entry hall Nathan turned to Paul and
said, "Leave your jacket here and bring me the hairbrush. We'll be
in the diningroom."
Paul looked at the floor and said quietly, "Yes, sir."
"Oh, I've missed this place" said Eric.
Nathan hugged him and said, "It really has been too long."
We made our way to the formal diningroom and started filling our
plates from a buffet at one side when Paul came in, still in his suit
pants, shirt, and tie.
"I'm very sorry, sir" he said, handing Nathan a large hairbrush with
a wide, flat back. My heart started to race.
Nathan took it from him, set his plate on the table and said, "You
know why you're being punished?"
"Yes, sir" said Paul. There was something so desperately regretful
in his manner that it almost brought a tear to my eye, despite the
hardon that was now pressing against my pants.
"Take your trousers down" said Nathan, and Paul immediately undid his
pants and let them pool around his ankles. "Hands on the table" said
Nathan, and Paul bent forward and obeyed. Nathan then tugged his
white briefs down and pushed his dress shirt up to his shoulder
blades, exposing a beautifully smooth and muscular body. I watched,
my mouth agape, as he started to rhythmically spank the larger man,
the brush going SPLAT! loudly as it landed over and over again on the
white, muscular cheeks.
I had counted to 15 before Paul started to groan, 22 when he started
to say, "Oh! OH!" and 28 before he was yelping loudly with each
splat and crying openly. At 32 Nathan stopped and said, "Stand up,
boy."
Paul immediately stood up and threw his arms around Nathan, crying
quietly against the older man's head. Nathan patted his back and
said, "All right. Shhhhh. You know you're not finished yet."
"Yes, sir" Paul hiccoughed, pulling back from him.
"There" said Nathan, pointing to a corner of the diningroom. Paul
shuffled over to it, his pants and underwear still around his ankles,
and stood in the corner with his back to us. His shirt covered his
butt, but it was still very erotic to see such a large and muscular
man spanked and stood in the corner the way I was so often made to.
"It's not polite to stare, Jamie" said Nathan, and I flushed and my
plate clanged down on the table.
"I'm sorry" I said, looking at Nathan and glancing nervously at
Eric. Eric just smiled at me and motioned for me to sit opposite
him. Nathan brushed my hair out of my eyes affectionately. Paul
stood behind me now, which was a good thing because I would have been
totally distracted by him and unable to eat if I had been sitting
where Eric was.
It was going to be an interesting weekend.