The Hunger
I got back to the rehab center with barely enough time to get Ben ready for his visitors. While he was bursting with curiosity about how my adventure with Helmut had gone, he contained himself and stayed focused on the imminent arrival of the kids. I promised to give him a full report once things had quieted down, and that seemed to keep him happy.
Just as the group from Hope House arrived so did Cecil, his case manager. He watched as Ben received multiple hugs, and reveled in the excitement of the kids. After a few moments, he tapped me on the shoulder and motioned for me to follow him into the hall.
“That's probably the best therapy he could receive,” he said with a smile. “And how are you doing?”
“Fine,” I answered reflexively. While the trip to the cruising area had been for my benefit, so much had happened and I really hadn't been able to focus on myself at all. I wasn't really present.
“Hmm...” Cecil waited for me to focus. “You seem somewhat distracted,” he finally ventured, “Did the...umm...outing not go to plan?”
In truth I wasn't distracted, I was just blank. I wasn't really thinking about anything. “What?!” I was shocked back to the present moment by his question. “How did you know...?”
“I stopped in while he was on the phone with Helmut just after therapy this morning. He confessed his plan to make sure you got some action.”
“Oh, Not sure I like him discussing our sex life with such freedom.” I leaned against the wall and looked at the floor.
“He hardly did that,” Cecil chuckled. “I overheard enough before he realized I was there, that he couldn't deny the plan when I asked him what was going on. And then he still refused to talk about it openly. I just put two and two together.”
His question brought back the images of sexual activity I had witnessed earlier and highlighted my own feelings of loneliness and sexual frustration.
He drew up beside me and put a hand on my shoulder. “Taking care of your own needs is healthy,” he said softly. “You need to be in a good place to be able to take care of Ben as he recovers.”
I could feel the warmth of his body close to mine, and was struck by his physical presence. He had to be a few inches taller than me, and was quite well put together. He squeezed my shoulder to show sympathy, but instead it sent a pulse of sexual electricity through my body. I thought about how he probably used that hand to masturbate with, and wondered when the last time was that he held his own dick with it. My eyes were still downcast and I stole a glimpse at his crotch. His pants weren't particularly tight, but I could make out his bulge. It was quite respectable. As I watched, I saw it twitch and begin to get bigger. Was Cecil getting a boner right in front of my eyes?
He let go of my shoulder and shifted uncomfortably. “I...ummm...I should head over to my next client,” he stuttered as he moved away from me, slipping a hand into a pocket, obscuring the growing bulge. “Just remember, Ben loves you and wants you to be happy.”
I was puzzled as to whether he had come to check on Ben or to touch base with me, but it seemed that his sudden excitement had unsettled him enough that he had forgotten why he was there. As I watched him rush down the hall, I wondered why I had never noticed what a fine ass he had, and just how sexy he was. A true daddy, with a wife and two children, he still had what it took to cause my dick to twitch.
The sounds from the room were happy and energetic, but I felt the need for solitude. I was feeling a bit overwhelmed by my sexual frustration, and as I began walking down the hall I became acutely aware of all the men that worked there. Nurses, orderlies, cleaners, and even some of the visitors. They all had penises just below a scant layer or two of fabric. My frustration was in recognizing that I was surrounded by dicks, but didn't have access to any of them. And it wasn't just the dicks, I began noticing the swelling of beautiful pecs filling out the loose fitting scrubs most of them were wearing. The curve of a neck as it plunged into a hint of chest hair that peeked out of a collar. The muscled forearms that flexed and relaxed as charts were handled and notes were scribbled down. It was as if I was swimming in a sea of masculinity, as if a banquet had been laid out before me but I was starving and couldn't reach it. It was more than I could take.
I decided to head for the patio again. I knew that Mr. Bouchard sat there in the mornings, but wasn't sure what he did in the afternoons. There was something comforting about sitting beside him, and I hoped he might still be there.
He was. In fact he hadn't seemed to move an inch since I chatted with him earlier. I didn't speak. I just pulled up a chair and sat beside him, allowing my mind to wander and empty itself out as I gazed with him at the endless sea.
After a few minutes, I felt a soft sensation on my hand. It felt natural and welcome. I didn't have to look to know that Mr. Bouchard had once again placed his hand on mine. I knew this was highly unusual, but he had done it before, so I wasn't totally surprised. His touch was very light, almost a whisper, and it felt as if he were not so much touching the surface of my skin, but more like his hand was slowly sinking into mine. I sighed, relaxing into the warm sweetness of the moment, and allowed myself to drift off.
The sound of voices chatting and laughing began to make their way into my mind. From the silence of my relaxation they drew slowly closer, until it sounded like they were in the next room. I could heat the droning of a TV and the clattering of plates and glasses. Was it a party? I was slightly confused and decided to open my eyes. The scene in front of me was blurry at first, but soon cleared. I wasn't on the patio anymore, but in the back room of Mike's Bar, where the circle jerk had been. It was recognizable, but the chairs had been cleared to the edges of the room, and a small cot peaked out from a curtain at one end of the space.
I felt a certain amount of anxiety, but it was overshadowed by excitement and anticipation. I tried to get up but found my body unresponsive. It was as if I were a spectator in my own body. My view shifted as I continued to take in my surroundings. Suddenly the sounds from the bar got louder and then faded again as the door opened and closed. My view was directed to the sound and I saw Mike walking toward me. I looked him up and down, pausing at his crotch, remembering the brief glimpse I had had of his dick, then my gaze was directed up to his face.
“Enjoying the view?” he said with a smirk. “Don't worry, you'll get to see plenty, but for right now, let's just establish the basics.” He pulled up a chair and sat facing me, with his knees touching mine. “First and foremost, are you alright with me acting as your mentor? It may be what your dad wants, but it won't work unless you are willing and agree to follow my guidance.”
“What kind of guidance?” I heard myself ask.
“That will depend on what you need and what you bring to the table.”
“I don't understand.” I could feel the confusion and doubt flood over me, and realized I was seeing things through Kevin's eyes. Was this real or just some fantasy triggered by my own sexual frustration and the events of the day? And if it were real, how could this be happening?
“That's okay,” Mike continued, “You will eventually. This is going to be a journey for both of us.” He leaned forward and looked into Kevin's eyes. “Your dad has told me precious little about your background, what your life was like before he adopted you. If this is going to work, you can't keep any secrets from me. I will need to know everything.”
I felt Kevin's heart drop at this request. I knew how important it was for him to feel normal, just like any other teenager, and he was afraid that if people knew too much about how he had survived as a runaway, they would see him as somehow damaged or dirty. He swallowed hard and stuttered, “I don't know...I can't...”
“Not to worry,” Mike interrupted. “This is a journey, and we haven't even taken the first step yet. I just want to be sure that I'm not crossing a boundary that makes you feel unsafe, but we can discover those limits as we go along. For now, I just need to see what I'm working with.” Mike leaned back and looked Kevin up and down. “Hmmm...Not bad. Stand up.”
Mike spread his legs and signaled for Kevin to stand directly in front of him. “Take off your shirt.”
“Why do you want...”
“The only acceptable response is 'Yes Sir', remember?” Mike held the boy's gaze intently, then added, “Do it.”
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