Handle With Care

by Josephine Myles

  “This one of your favourites, then?” I asked.

  Ollie held my gaze and gave me a smile I didn’t know how to interpret. “Oh, yeah, it’s a favourite. Get yourself comfy, and I’ll stick it in.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively and leered. The lad clearly couldn’t hold his alcohol.

  The film turned out to have a certain charm. I might not be as taken by the burly bear of a cop as Ollie was, but the parade of jailbait criminals needing his particular brand of discipline was appealing. Not nearly as appealing as Ollie, though. I could tell he was excited, watching those boys being bossed around.

  When the cop ordered one to put his hands against the wall and spread his legs, Ollie gasped. I could see the bulge of his hard-on and wondered why he wasn’t yet touching himself. Maybe I should try issuing a few orders.

  “Open your jeans and get your dick out,” I said, and I didn’t even need to try to make my voice sound gruff.

  Ollie’s eyes were black saucers as he fumbled with his fly, and when he’d released his cock, he put both hands back onto the sofa.

  Interesting.

  “Stroke yourself. Slowly at first. Yeah, that’s it.”

  A strange sensation started to grow inside me. Fear, excitement, arousal— what was it? All I knew was my heart was hammering wildly, but my body stayed still and calm. I focused on watching Ollie, trying to work out what he needed from me. A sheen of perspiration formed on his brow as he stared at me, the big bad bear on screen forgotten.

  I watched his hand moving slow and deliberate, the flushed head of his cock revealed every time he pulled the foreskin down. He looked thoroughly debauched, sitting there fully clothed with just his dick out, waiting for me to tell him what to do.

  I wasn’t about to start calling him a dirty little ho like the cop on the DVD

  was with his current victim, and I didn’t want to hurt him physically. I’d had more than enough pain in my life, and I certainly wasn’t about to inflict it on anyone else. Whips, chains and paddles were all out, not that I owned any in the first place. What did that leave me with? Did he want me to tie him up? The thought made me uncomfortable. Ollie’s energetic movement was one of the things that first caught my eye, so the idea of restraining him didn’t appeal.

  Then I remembered what I had left. What I could still use even though my dick refused to play along and I barely had the energy to lift a finger.

  My voice.

  My fantasies.

  “One of these days, we’re going to put this film on again, and I’m going to strip you naked and bend you over the end of that sofa. You’ll have to keep your hands on the cushion and spread your legs for me.”

  Ollie moaned, and he shifted his legs wider apart as if he was already living it in his head.

  I felt encouraged to continue. “I’m going to pull your cheeks apart and tease you with my fingers and tongue. I’m going to work your pretty little hole until you’re begging me to stick my dick in there. Yeah, that’s it, you can speed up now.” It was a redundant command, seeing as how he already had, but he seemed to like getting permission if the way he thrust up into his grip was anything to go by. “Use your other hand to cup your balls. That’s it. Give them a little squeeze and roll them around.”

  It was bittersweet, watching Ollie pleasure himself at my command. I wanted to be doing the things I was describing to him. I wanted to sink into him, bury myself in him and pound him hard the way he was clearly craving. I wanted to feel his pulsing heat around me and the ripple of his muscles as he shot his load.

  But all I could do for now was give him the imaginary version, so I tried to make it good. “You’re going to feel amazing, all tight and hot and needy. I’m going to screw you so long and hard you’ll be feeling me for days. It’ll be like I’m still inside you, you’ll be that well fucked.”

  Ollie’s head thrashed around on the sofa cushion. His eyes were screwed shut, his mouth open, and he looked so beautiful I started choking up.

  “I’m not going to let you come until you’re so ready for it you’re shaking and your cock is leaking everywhere, and then I’m going to take it in my hands and you’re going to come so hard you’ll feel like your balls have exploded.”

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  Ollie whimpered, and I gathered up enough strength to shift closer to him. I placed my hand on his, amazed to feel how damp he was from all the sweat and precome. He didn’t pause in his frenzied rhythm, so I moved my hand and rested it on his thigh instead.

  “Shit, Ben, I’ve got to come.” Ollie really did look desperate, his eyes dark and wild.

  I kissed him, tasting sweat sharp and salty on his lips. “Do it,” I rasped.

  I’d never heard anything quite like the sound Ollie made when he came. The raw pleasure was wrapped up with something else, something that touched me deep inside and spread warmth out from that place. As he fell, trembling, into my arms, I knew I was in trouble.

  If it felt this good being with him, even without an orgasm, how the hell was I ever going to cope without him?

  Eventually, Ollie stirred, and I realised the DVD had played itself out at some point while we’d embraced.

  “I’d better get going, then…unless you’ve changed your mind?”

  He sounded so hopeful, but I wasn’t ready for him to start staying over. I wasn’t ready to let another man sleep beside me. To see me at my most vulnerable.

  “My belly’s still sore. I don’t want you accidentally kneeing me in your sleep.”

  “I don’t mind kipping on the sofa.”

  I shook my head, steeling myself against those wounded puppy-dog eyes.

  He leant down to press a kiss to my lips, then stole out quietly. Once Ollie had left, I discovered I didn’t even have the energy to get up out of the sofa. I twisted enough so that I was lying down, pulled the throw down over me, and thanked my lucky stars I wasn’t drinking enough yet to have to go for a piss before bed.

  But as I lay there, alone, telling myself it was for the best that I didn’t get too attached, I knew I was a lost cause.

  I was already head over heels. And I was scared shitless.

  Another week passed as my body slowly knitted itself back together again.

  Zoe hadn’t been around as often as she used to, but that was making things easier for everyone. I didn’t need to see her wounded resentment every time she looked at Ollie, and Ollie’s resultant confusion. She was trying, I could tell, but it didn’t change the way she felt deep down.

  I sighed. The midafternoon sun slanted through the blinds in my office, and I couldn’t concentrate on the lines of code on my screen.

  I needed Ollie. A warm feeling grew inside my belly every time I thought of him. It tingled like my body was about to wake up and shake off all this inertia. I still hadn’t had a proper hard-on since the surgery, but right now, thinking about Ollie’s ready smile and warm brown eyes, my cock definitely swelled a little. I had another two weeks to go before getting the all-clear for sex, and the idea of an orgasm wrenching thorough my tender insides still made me twitchy, but I was interested in seeing how my body reacted to Ollie’s proximity.

  Ollie wasn’t in the kitchen, sitting at the table poring over his plans like I’d expected. The living room gave off that silent vibe that empty rooms always do, and I was sure I hadn’t heard him leave. Where the hell was he?

  Then I heard the off-key singing from the bathroom. What was he still doing in there? He’d had a quick shower when he got back from his morning’s mission to collect tables and chairs for the café, but I was sure I’d heard him leave the bathroom afterwards. He couldn’t still be showering, could he? His hair might take him an age to spike to his satisfaction, but he wasn’t that high maintenance.

  108

  Still, the idea of finding him naked and soapy sent a shiver of anticipation through me, and I pushed the door open, my heart pounding against my rib cage.

  The scent of artificial lemons hit me like a bucket of cold water. I found Olli
e fully clothed on his knees in the shower stall, scrubbing at the tiles with a scouring pad and what looked like an entire bottle of cream cleaner.

  “What are you doing? You don’t need to do that!”

  Ollie looked up in surprise. “I got hair dye in the grout. It’s okay; I don’t mind cleaning up my own mess.”

  “I don’t want you to scrub my bathroom.” I felt my fists clenching and grabbed hold of the edge of the sink to steady myself. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I looked really pissed off. I took a deep breath and tried to control the rising anger.

  “Ben? You all right, mate?”

  The concern in his voice just riled me up even more. “I’m fine! I don’t need you checking up on me all the time, and I can do my own housework now.” I might be excruciatingly slow and tire myself out after twenty minutes, but I was proud of the fact I’d started pulling my own weight again. “I cleaned the oven this morning.”

  Ollie frowned and got up to his feet. “Yeah, I know you can look after yourself. It just seemed rude to leave your shower looking like someone had slaughtered an animal in there, and the dye’s a bugger to get shifted if you don’t clean it straight away.”

  “Ollie, I want a boyfriend. An equal. I don’t want a fucking houseboy twink, okay?”

  Something passed over Ollie’s face then, and I couldn’t understand it. All I knew was that I’d hurt him. But then he gave a strange smile and handed me the scouring pad.

  “Right. I’ll leave it, then, shall I? Wouldn’t want anyone to mistake me for a houseboy.” His voice was bright—too bright—and he wouldn’t meet my eyes.

  “I’ve got things to do, anyway. I’ll be back later.”

  “What time should I expect you?”

  “Dunno. Might be tomorrow, actually. Things to do. People to see.”

  “Don’t be like that. Come on, Ollie, talk to me.”

  “Nothing to say right now.” Ollie pushed past me and headed to the front door.

  I followed, a ringing in my ears sounding a warning signal. What had I said?

  I replayed my words and groaned.

  Ollie had his skateboard in his hand and was pushing open the front door.

  “I’m sorry I called you a houseboy twink. I didn’t mean it.”

  But Ollie just shook his head and turned tear-filled eyes in my direction. “I just want some time on my own, okay?” Before I could respond, he was running down the driveway.

  “Come back!” I yelled after him. I stumbled after him, collapsing against the dividing wall as Ollie wove his way down the road on that bloody board.

  “Shit!” I pounded my fist on the wall, but it didn’t improve my mood. The gnome Mrs. F. had placed on the end post grinned at me with a moronic, painted-on smile. I dashed the smug little bastard off there and watched him smash to pieces on the edge of a potted plant.

  I still didn’t feel any better.

  Why couldn’t I just accept a good thing when it dropped into my lap? I cursed my stupid pride for not letting him carry on cleaning the damn shower.

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  Would it have hurt me to accept his help graciously, instead of flinging it back in his face?

  Chapter Fourteen

  I spent the next forty minutes staring at my mobile but not daring to dial. I’d already screwed things up, and I didn’t want to risk saying something else that would cause Ollie pain. And more to the point, I didn’t know if he’d want to talk to me.

  I was still staring at the display of his number when I heard the rapping on the door. My heart sank. I knew that knock, and I knew I had some explaining to do.

  “Mrs. Felpersham. I’m sorry about your gnome.”

  Mrs. F. peered up at me, but she wasn’t on the warpath like I’d expected. No, she seemed far more subdued than I’d seen her before. Worried, perhaps, her face pale and drawn.

  “That’s not important. You can buy me a new one. Now, Ben, what’s going on between you and that young man?”

  I really didn’t want to bear the brunt of her homophobia again. “I know you don’t like him, but you’ll have to get used to him. He’s my boyfriend.”

  She pierced me with a sharp gaze. “Whatever makes you think I don’t like him?”

  “You lost him his job!”

  “What are you talking about?” Mrs. F. genuinely looked puzzled, and my previous certainty about the identity of the mysterious busybody who’d grassed up Ollie started to crumble.

  “Someone reported him to his boss for fraternising with the customers. I thought it must have been you. And you didn’t pass on that message when I was in hospital.”

  Mrs. F. stared at me for a long minute, and I wanted to hide. Finally, she spoke. “I’m going to ignore that first remark and suggest you get your facts straight.” I coloured, remembering using those exact words to her when she accused Ollie of messing up her gnome delivery. “I apologise for not being here to pass on the note, but I was called to visit my sister who’d been very sick. It certainly wasn’t deliberate.”

  “Oh, I, er… Sorry. Is she okay?”

  Mrs. F. sniffed and looked away. That was the moment when I noticed she was dressed entirely in black. Somehow I didn’t think she’d suddenly decided to become a goth.

  “Oh shit. I mean, Christ, I’m sorry. That’s rough.”

  “It happens to us all in the end, though, doesn’t it? The only certainties in life are death and taxes.” Mrs. F. gave a wry laugh. “She told me something on her deathbed, though. She said her only regret was not encouraging her stubborn idiot of a sister to run after the man she loved.”

  “Her sister? Oh, right.” I studied Mrs. F., and for the first time, I saw not an interfering, old battle-axe but a lonely spinster, pining for the love she had lost. I realised I was staring when Mrs. F. fixed me with her shrewd gaze.

  “Ben, he might be young and look like a reprobate, but he’s a good lad.

  Always smiling, always waves hello to me. If you love him, go after him. Life’s too short to waste it being angry.”

  I wondered how much of our doorstep argument she’d seen and heard. But I wasn’t going to waste time being embarrassed. She was right. I’d been a tosser, and I needed to put things right.

  “Thanks, Mrs. F.” I swept her up in a hug and kissed her lavishly on the cheek.

  “Well, I never!” she exclaimed as I set her back down again. She patted her hair as if I’d messed it up, but I didn’t miss the smile that twitched at her lips.

  I grabbed my mobile from the kitchen table and dialled. There was no point trying to find him if he didn’t want to be found. When he picked up on the third ring, my breath shuddered out of me.

  “Ollie, I’m sorry I screwed up.”

  “It’s okay.” Ollie sniffed as if he’d been crying, but his voice was level. “I was being a right drama queen, wasn’t I? Surprised you’re not sick of me already.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I just… I overreacted. I shouldn’t have been so bloody touchy.”

  “Nah, don’t worry about it. It was me, not you.”

  “Could I come and see you? Talk about it in person? I don’t want you being upset on your own.”

  “It’s cool, Ben. I’m having a cup of tea with Meera, and I’ve got a shift at the café this evening. Don’t blow it out of proportion, yeah? I’m fine.”

  As he sounded more upbeat and positive than when he’d answered, I decided to take the opt out he’d offered. “Will I see you in the morning, then?”

  “Try keeping me away,” he teased. “I’ll miss you tonight.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  “Laters.”

  When I hung up, the relief poured through me like soothing balm. It was scary, needing him this badly. Scary when it appeared I could fuck it up just by opening my mouth.

  114

  The next day, Ollie arrived on my doorstep with a smile and a kiss, and it was easy to gloss over the previous day by ignoring it and getting down to business. My version of busines
s for the morning being Ollie’s dick having an appointment in my mouth. I ambushed him before he’d had a chance to put his bag down and pushed him against the hallway wall.

  “Mornin’, Ben. Good to see you too.” Ollie’s chuckle did funny things to my insides. I claimed his mouth with my own before I could say anything stupid. I wasn’t going to scare him off with my howling pit of need.

  I fumbled his trousers open, sank to my knees and swallowed him down like he was all my forbidden foods wrapped up in one meaty package. Ollie tasted so fucking sweet I wanted to devour him. I slid my fingers back towards his hole, wondering what he’d taste like there. I’d have to try that soon, somewhere more comfy. The idea sent a hot pulse of blood to my dick. My knees groaned on the hard floor, but I couldn’t deny the fact that my dick had finally woken up and taken a proper interest in proceedings. I tried my best to ignore it and concentrated on working Ollie’s hole with my fingers as I mouthed the end of his cock. I fluttered my fingertips just inside him, and he made a strangled noise. I could feel his muscles working to pull me in, could sense his dilemma as he had to choose whether to push farther into my mouth or back onto my fingers.

  He thrust back, his hot heat enveloping me. God, it was going to feel so good to sink my cock into him and fuck him properly. I swept over his gland and swallowed him down, loving the way he attempted to grab hold of my cropped hair as he came. It took my mind off the party in my pants, and I could fool myself that I wasn’t really all that excited. That it was just a pale imitation of Ollie’s pleasure.

  But I hadn’t fooled Ollie.

  “Are you going to let me do something about that now?” he asked, a whine creeping into his voice. “Please, Ben. Let me take care of you. It should be fine now the stitches are out, shouldn’t it?”

  I’d been using them as an excuse, I realised, but I wasn’t about to admit to having performance anxiety, and I still had the doctor to back me up. “You know I’m supposed to wait another fortnight. Come on, Ollie, give me a break. I don’t want to mess this all up just because I’m feeling horny.”