Apartment #9

“Ty, I’m sure you got a little sweaty because, honestly, your pits are stinky.”

“You just want me to shower with you.”

“Maybe,” I chuckled. “Come on.”

-1-

On my side with my right shoulder under Tyler’s freshly cleaned left armpit, I moved my fingertips so they barely touched his sexy muscular chest. He moved his hand from my waist to my rib cage and back again.

“If it were possible, I would stay like this forever,” he said.

I kissed him and lifted my head to run my tongue over his nipple before applying some suction to it.

“Oh, fuck, Ethan, you make me hard when you suck my tit.”

“I think being in a room with a guy gets you hard,” I told him.

“True.”

I moved my head back on his shoulder. “Wrong answer, asshole. You’re supposed to say that I’m the only one who makes you hard.”

“I’ll never lie to you,” he said. “You make me pop a boner faster than anyone ever has, but you’re not the only sexy guy on the planet. You’re just the sexiest.”

“OK, you redeemed yourself. Now close your eyes and go to sleep. I’ve got a big day planned for us.”

I woke up alone in the bed, face down, and a small puddle of saliva next to me. The smell of bacon wafted through the air. I got up and used a washcloth to clear the liquid from the sheets. I didn’t make the bed in order to allow it to dry. I brushed my teeth and slipped on some running shorts before heading into the kitchen.

Tyler was at the stove wearing the apron the apartment management gave me when I moved in. He had nothing else on. I resisted the urge to blow him in the kitchen. I had afternoon plans for him. I wrapped my arms around his chest and kissed his back. Had I noticed how muscular his back was? My dick certainly noticed at that moment. It became semi-rigid as I held him.

“Are you poking me with your peter?” Tyler laughed.

“It better be my peter; who else’s peter are you expecting?”

Tyler turned to look at me. There was a seriousness there, and I knew at that moment. I wanted to ask him; I wanted to tell him, but I knew it had to wait. There would be a lot to do and talk about this afternoon.

“Bacon, huh?”

Tyler nodded slightly. “Yeah.”

I could tell he was hoping for a more serious conversation, but I needed to stick to my plan. It’s the way my brain worked, and it’s what I needed. There was no reason I couldn’t let him in on it, though. “After we have this delicious meal you’ve prepared, I’m going to take a shower and change into the clothes I’ll be wearing today. I’m going to pack some spare clothes, and we’re going to put the food we have for lunch and supper into whichever vehicle we’re taking today. We’ll go over to your place so you can change or get clothes, if you want.”

“I think what you washed last night will work.”

“OK. Then we’ll head over to the vacation house. I thought I could help you gather wood for the firepit or sweep or whatever until lunch. After lunch, I want you to take me out to where we were yesterday.” My hands began to shake. “I’m going to tell you everything, OK.” My eyes welled up.

“Baby?”

“No, I have to,” I said.

“And you want to do it in the middle of the lake?”

“It’s so beautiful there. It’s the perfect place to purge the ugliness.” Tears began to flow. “Fuck.”

Tyler wiped my tears and kissed me. “Hey, concentrate on me for right now. And eat these perfectly fluffy scrambled eggs and crispy bacon.”

“Fucking arrogant prick.”

Tyler’s eyes teared up, and he pulled me to him and hugged me with such force that I felt he feared losing me. Could he be as afraid of losing me as I was of losing him? My big, strong, stud policeman had a soft heart. But I think I knew that from the start.

-2-

Tyler had a short barrel at the back of his camper; in it, he kept twigs and small branches for the fire pit he had built about 20 feet from the covered area. I picked up the small branches around the fire pit and laid them on the concrete to dry before they were put in the barrel. I organized the items that were kept outside the camper and under the cover while he mowed the area around the pit. I wasn’t sure whether he looked cute in his short pants, long leather chaps, and snake boots. I’m sure he looked strange. He told me he always wore the chaps and boots while mowing. At one point, he called me over to watch a snake moving away with what appeared to be a toad in its mouth.

“It’s a diamondback water snake. It’s got vertical-ish bars under its mouth. It’s not poisonous, but it’ll bite if it’s harassed. I stepped on one out here that I didn’t see. That’s why I wear these boots.”

I nodded and headed back to the camper. I wanted to get the sandwiches ready for our lunch. We had decided to eat lunch on the boat and save the steaks for dinner. I got everything ready and in the cooler and had taken the cooler to the dock. I began to unsnap the canvas cover when a soaking wet Tyler came up next to me. I noticed that the only dry thing about him was his sandals. “What happened to you?”

“I felt a little sweaty, so I hosed off. I’ll dry off quickly once we head out.”

The two of us got the cover off easily, and Tyler stuffed it into a storage bin. With the cooler in the boat and the boat untied. We headed out. I felt remarkably calm; I wondered whether knowing that I was finally going to tell had triggered this sense of ease. Fifteen minutes later, as I took in the beauty of our surroundings, I looked over at Tyler. I smiled, and he smiled back.

I began to hyperventilate. Tyler slowed and stopped the boat.

“Your face is all red. What’s wrong?”

“Can’t catch my breath.”

“You’re breathing too fast. Fuck, now you’re getting pale. Deep breath in and hold it. Hold it, dammit. Let me get a bag.” He dumped the sandwiches from the zip-lock bag and held it to me. “Now breathe slowly and deeply. Concentrate and do it with deliberation.”

My breathing slowed, and I calmed back down. “Let’s keep going. I want to be near those trees again.”

“Sure.” He started the boat again.

I concentrated on my breathing. If I didn’t feel better after what was about to happen, I was going to set up some serious therapy. I focused on the trees. It seemed easier to control my breathing, but I noticed that my hands and arms seemed to get numb.

The boat slowed, and Tyler shut off the engine. I watched him remove the anchor and drop it over the side. He turned to me, “We should be good.” He smiled and then I noticed that he bit his lower lip.

I grabbed onto the back of the chair. Tyler moved close to me and held me. My lips began to quiver.

“It’s never easy talking about a sexual assault.” He kissed my temple. “Tell me what you need, and I’ll make sure you get it.”

I nodded my head and pulled him over to the seat at the back of the boat. The gentle rocking was soothing. I took a deep breath and began.

-3-

The first time started like a game. He’d told me to take off my clothes because he was going to beat me, but once I did, he said he changed his mind.

“I’m going to show you a fun game to play instead,” he told me. He pushed his pants down to his ankles and sat on the floor. “Come sit in my lap.”

He had his legs together, and I noticed his penis was laying in the little valley, so when I sat in his lap, his penis was between my cheeks. He reached around me and cupped my privates in his hand and lifted them against my belly. I could see the tip of his wiener under my balls. He began to manipulate my peter, and his peter grew bigger.

“Do you like the way that feels?” he asked me.

It did feel good. “Yeah,” I whispered. He kept moving his fingers around, and my peter got hard.

I made a little sound, and he said, “No noise, not a sound, or I’ll have to stop. I held my teeth together and was quiet. A feeling like electricity went through me, and I shook the way you do when you shiver.

“It’s my turn now, but we’re going to do it in a different way.” He told me to get face down on the rug. I did. He pushed my knees apart and then rubbed petroleum jelly on my butt. I know because I looked at the jar later.

He was on his knees behind me, and then he leaned forward. He whispered in my ear. “You’re not allowed to talk for this part of the game, and just like the other part, you’re not supposed to make any noise. If you make noise, you lose, and I’ll have to kill you. The rules say that if I kill you, it has to hurt a whole lot. Now I don’t want to kill you, so please, don’t break the rules.

I shook my head, but I didn’t say anything, not even when I felt him pushing against my butt. He put something inside me; it felt really big, and it hurt. But I was quiet. I didn’t know at the time that it was his peter.

He began to move back and forth. It hurt so much that I thought that I must have made noise and that’s how he was going to kill me. He began to grunt, and I reached my hand back. That’s how I found out it was his penis that was moving back and forth in my butt.

He started to push really hard. I felt tears in my eyes, but I knew I couldn’t cry. He made one more push and grunt, and I felt my butt get squishy. I thought I had gone to the bathroom, and he would be mad and kill me anyway, but he said, “That was good. You are good at this game.” He sat up and pulled his pants up and then wiggle to get them all the way on.

“There’s one more important rule to this game. It’s a secret game. If you tell anyone about it, then I have to bring your family into a room with you. The rules say I have to kill all your brothers and sisters, then your mom and dad, and then you. Do you understand?”

I nodded.

“Good. Get dressed. Next Sunday, after we eat, you are going to ask if it’s okay to have some ‘Uncle Time’ with me. I’m going to make a good fuss about it, you know, how happy I am that you want to spend time with me, and then we’ll come upstairs and play the game again.”

The next Sunday, he kept glaring at me while we ate, and finally, when almost everyone was finished, I asked, “Is it OK if Uncle Scott and I go upstairs for some Uncle Time?” The talking at the table stopped completely.

Then my grandmother said, “Well, isn’t that cute.”

“Of course, Ethan,” said my mother.

My father looked over at Scott, “You wouldn’t rather have a beer with me?”

“It’ll be a quick game,” said my uncle. He got up, and I ran upstairs ahead of him. He closed the bedroom door and put a chair under the knob. “Get your fucking clothes off,” he growled. He pushed me down on the floor. “Where’s the fucking Vaseline?”

“I don’t know,” I whispered. I’d left it under the bed where he had put it, but it wasn’t there.

“Shit.” He made a lot of spit and put it on my butt, and then he pushed his peter into me.

It hurt so bad that I wished he had just killed me instead. When he finished, it felt like he had peed inside me. He got up and pulled his pants up. “You’d better find that Vaseline or next time, I’ll do it without spit and you won’t like it.” He left the room.

I got up and went to the bathroom, and when I looked in the toilet before I flushed, it looked like blood and milk mixed together. I searched the bathroom and found the jar under the sink. I snuck it into my room and hid it. I made sure to put it under the bed for next Sunday.

Because my grandmother lived with us, the family came over every Sunday for dinner. So every Sunday, I endured Uncle Time so my family wouldn’t get killed. I prayed every day that I would die. I prayed someone would kill Uncle Scott, but every Sunday, he showed up to eat.

When I was thirteen, a new kid moved to town; he was in my class. While all the other boys were talking about touching breasts and getting some pussy, I kept waiting until I felt that way, too. Instead, I started thinking about the new kid. One day after school, he came up to me and told me that he had noticed I was looking at him during class. I started to deny it, but he said it was OK. He just didn’t want me to get caught. He told me that I was nice to look at, too.

We got to be friends, but my uncle found out that we were walking home together every day, and he told me that he had decided to kill him.

“You know, Ethan, you play the game really well. At first, I wondered whether I would have to kill you, but I know now that I won’t have to. But I’m worried that you’ll say something to your friend. So, the next time I have an early day at work, I’m going to drive by, and if you’re still friends with him, I’m going to have to slit his throat. Before he dies, I’m going to tell him that it’s your fault.”

I was terrified for him, so at lunch the next day, I told him that I couldn’t see him anymore. I told him I was in love with him, and my parents found out and were going to send me away. I told him that I had promised never to talk to him again, and they agreed to let me stay. I never spoke to him again.

The ‘uncle time’ continued. And then I found out that my grandmother was going to have a Sunday dinner with her cousin. The family was going to travel there on Saturday and come back on Sunday evening. I lied and said I had a big project to work on so I wouldn’t have to go. I’d have the first Sunday to myself in years. When my mother agreed, I went upstairs and looked at myself in the mirror. I started to cry because I was so happy.

When Saturday arrived, I was so happy. They drove off, and I went back inside an empty house. I didn’t know what to do; I realized that I’d never been alone. I was dancing around the house in my socks. I’d just slid down the hall when I heard a click at the back door. I rushed over.

Uncle Scott was locking the back door behind him. He had a plastic bag in his hand. He saw me and raised the bag in the air. “Six jars of Vaseline,” he laughed.

I simply stood there. If there had been a gun in the house, I would have shot Scott first. The second bullet would have had my name on it.

Tyler was in disbelief as he listens to the horror of Ethan's secret, but Ethan is about to reveal the worst of it.