He opened the door and stepped inside, holding the shoebox in his hands. He closes the door behind him, shutting out all light except that of the street lamp filtering through the curtains. He walks over to the bed and sits down on the edge closest to me.
Setting the box down on the opposite side of where he’s sitting, he climbs over me and pulls down the blankets leaving me in my t-shirt and boxers. His eyes quickly scan over my body and he frowns, obviously displeased.
“Benji, how many times have I told you?” I just shake my head, knowing exactly what he means. When he wants sex he expects me to be naked and ready, and I’m obviously not naked. He’s still staring at me, waiting for an answer, “I…I don’t know.” I look up to see his reaction, but what I don’t see is his hand.
He slaps me across the face, glaring at me. “What did you say?” I cringe, realizing my mistake. How could I forget?
“I said I don’t know…Sir.” He just smirks and grabs the bottom of my shirt, pulling it up over my head.
“That’s better. Now, you know what to do.” I nod and mumble a ‘yes Sir’ before pulling off my boxers, and undressing Joel. He pushes me down onto my back, so that I’m leaning my head against the headboard behind me, and crawls over me so that he’s pretty much sitting on my chest.
Grasping his erection he moves forward, forcing me to take him into my mouth. He moans and starts thrusting back and forth, hitting the back of my throat with each forward motion, making me choke and gag, but he doesn’t stop. I try moving my head back some, but the bars on the headboard keep me from moving, forcing me to take the abuse.
Joel didn’t always used to be like this, so angry and abusive. He used to be the sweetest most caring, most beautiful person in the world. I remember when we first got together, he would bring home strawberries and whipped cream, and we would spend hours just kissing and feeding them to each other. He used to write me songs and sing me to sleep, holding me in his arms and rocking me, while he stroked my face and whispered how much he loved me into my ear.
I have to smile inwardly at this; he used to take such good care of me. It’s only because we can’t let the guys know about our relationship that he stopped doing those things. Once we moved in together with them, we couldn’t be as close as we’d like, we couldn’t share a bed or shower together. He can’t sing me to sleep at night or hold me after sex.
God, I miss that. Being able to make love all night and hold each other as the sun came up, making breakfast and feeding it to each other… God we had so much fun with that. Now it’s just a quick fix when the guys are out and he’s in the mood. We can’t risk getting caught. I just want one night though, just one, where it can be like the first time all over again.
It’s what I wanted with Billy.
The rose petals, the candles, when you know the other person loves you, and thinks everything about you is fragile and unique. I know I don’t love Billy, but I just wanted one night of passion where I wasn’t tied down to the bed with a cock shoved down my throat. One night where I could pretend that Joel still cared enough to risk it all again.
And I could pretend that Billy was Joel. Just for that one night, just so I could have that feeling again.
I’m brought out of my thoughts as Joel grabs my hair and thrusts one last time, coming into my mouth. He pulls back and slides down my body until he’s sitting on my hips, my cock resting against his ass. And I briefly entertain the thought that maybe this time will be different.
But my hopes are crushed as he climbs off of me and grabs the box, taking off the lid and pulling out a couple of pairs of handcuffs.
“Put your hands up.”
I lift my arms and rest them against the bars on either side of my head. He handcuffs my wrists to the headboard before turning back to the box and pulling out one of his bandannas. I can’t decide whether he’s going to blind fold me or gag me, but my unspoken question is asked as he ties it around my head, covering my eyes, blocking out the light from the street lamp, leaving me in darkness. I hear him move around some things in the box until he finds what he’s looking for.
“Open your mouth.”
A little unnerved I take a deep breath through my nose before doing as he says.
He opens his mouth and I reach down and pull out two of his lip rings, leaving just the one in the middle. I pick up the lip-gloss I’d pulled out of the box and coat his lips with the stuff, making them shine, just like Billy’s. Only Benji’s lips aren’t as nice, as soft looking.
Leaning down I kiss him softly. Pulling back some I lick my lips, tasting strawberries. It’s how I always imagined Billy would taste like, his own unique taste, masked by the strawberry lip-gloss. Only I don’t know what he tastes like…
“Benji?” I whisper leaning down to lightly trace the cartilage with my tongue.
“Yes sir?” I smirk lightly, he’s so submissive. I trail a path of light kisses over to his mouth, kissing him gently and lightly sucking on his bottom lip before whispering to him again.
“What does he taste like?” He lets out a shaky breath and licks his lips.
“Sir?” I sigh; he’s so fucking dense sometimes.
“Billy. What does he taste like?”
“Sir, I’m not sure I can…” I backhand him across the face to shut him up. Fuck. It’s not that hard to just tell me what he tastes like.
“Tell me what he tastes like Benji.”
“Sir, he…uh. He tastes like…like gummi bears, and strawberries. I…I don’t really know what to say. He’s…he’s indescribable sir.”
Fucking moron. That’s not a good enough answer, but I can tell that I won’t be able to get anymore out of him. Hitting him across the face again I tell him to shut up and spread his legs. He does as I tell him, and I climb in between his legs before pushing a finger into him. He tenses briefly, before relaxing into the bedding again, and licking his lips, wiping away any lingering traces of lip-gloss.
I add a second finger, and move them around for a minute. Deciding I don’t want to wait any longer, I pull my fingers out and position myself at his entrance. Shoving my self in, he lets out a high-pitched yelp, and struggles with the handcuffs for a second.
Not bothering to check if he’s all right I start a hammering rhythm against him, shoving in so forcefully that his head rams against the headboard repeatedly, leaving dents in the plaster.
He yelps again as I dig my fingernails into his hips. Pulling my hand away, I backhand him again, “shut the fuck up. Do you want the neighbors to hear?” Shaking his head he grits his teeth down, and wraps his legs around my waist, breathing deeply.
I pull out, before pushing into him again, harder than before. His face screws up in pain but he doesn’t make a sound. I lean down and kiss him again, almost choking him with my tongue, imagining its Billy the whole time.
I’m almost there, so I push into him hard a few more times, before clawing my fingernails down his slick chest, cumming up his ass, and yelling out.
He comes right after me, not even having to be touched, and slumps down, exhausted, his arms limp and hanging from the handcuffs.
Pulling out of him, I grab the key out of the box and un-cuff him. He brings his arms down and rubs at his wrists, before trying to snuggle up against me, but I just roll over and stand up, “put some ice on your face before the swelling gets worse. I don’t want to have to make up some excuse to tell the guys.”
His face falls, but I ignore it and grab my things, leaving him laying on the bed, watching after me.
As I reach the door, I turn to face Benji, “hurry up and get Billy, you know I don’t like to wait.” He nods and takes a deep breath before speaking.
I turn back around and head towards my room, thinking about Benji. He will never be as good as Billy. Never. But until I have Billy he’ll just have to do.
I just don’t know how much longer I’m going to wait.