Date: Sun, 19 Feb 2017 09:32:52 +0100 (CET)
From: z.blake@tutanota.com
Subject: Eduardo in the Elevator

EDUARDO IN THE ELEVATOR
By Zachyboy
M/b, oral, anal, romantic

The following story is a work of fiction.

My little street hustler Eduardo first appeared in "Best Little Handjobs in
Texas," Nifty Gay Adult-Youth, August 2014. He was one of 10 boys who
appeared in that collection of vignettes.

And he resurfaced later in December 2015, in "Giving Me Lip, Part 2," as
the best friend and boy whore mentor of one of my favorite smart-mouthed
boy characters, Badger.

If you like his sweet, street-smart heart, or vaguely remember any of the
recurring boys who dance through my many stories like Eduardo and Badger,
Fiji or Rexxy, or Jackson and Pwince, why not make a donation to the Nifty
Archive Alliance in their sweet, dirty names?

I'd sure thank you greatly for donating to the home that houses my
fantasies, so Nifty can keep the magic going for a new generation of
fearless readers.

http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

Anyway, I've been promising Eduardo a happy ending for two-and-a-half years
now, and it's time I go back, buckle down and finally give him one.

So, on with the long-overdue show.

# # # # # # # # # # # # # # #

Here's how you first met Eduardo, in "Best Little Handjobs in Texas." Back
when you were a long-haul truck driver, up and down through Texas and
Oklahoma, running routes and enjoying the company of willing boys wherever
you could find them.

Eduardo was your Handjob #6 in that collection of sweet depravity. I've got
your log book right here, just the way you wrote it down on Nifty when you
posted it a couple of years ago.

It says: Date: June 29, 2010.  Location: Arlington, Pantego Motor Lodge off
State Highway 360.  Boy: Eduardo, 13.

What you did with Eduardo: Everything.

Eduardo is a homeless boy you picked up hitchhiking. You picked him up
because he looked so much like Javi, a boy you'd loved before, and your
heart almost stopped.

At first you thought he really was Javi. But that's not possible. That was
four years ago, and Javi would be, what? 16? 17 now?

You still wonder about him. Wonder if he's okay. Wonder if he still sleeps
in the car overnight, or propped up next to ice machines, while his mom
turns tricks in motel rooms. Most likely, you figure, he's long since left
her.

"Hey," you say to Eduardo as he climbs up into your cab. "You look like
somebody I knew once."

"Knew once, or fucked once?" Eduardo asks. No beating around the bush with
this one.

"Both," you admit. "He was a pretty boy. So are you."

"Yeah, well. We all look alike," he shrugs.

"No, you don't," you tell him, reaching over to lift his chin and look into
his eyes. "You don't look alike at all. He was pretty and so are
you. You're a pretty boy, Eduardo."

He turns his head down to hide a blush. Practiced or not, it's sweet when
he does it. But that's the problem with sweet and you. When you see sweet,
it makes your dick hard.

Eduardo tells you he was originally from Seattle, but he left when his best
friend Jasey found a man and left the streets for good. The man called him
Badger and took really good care of him. They were in love. And Eduardo
moved down the highway. And somehow, he wound up in Texas.

Eduardo asks you if you want to take care of him and be in love. You could
be his special man and he could be your special boy. You can't, of course,
and you tell him, "sorry." Eduardo is sweet and certainly tempting, but his
life essentially, is bigger than you want to know about.

"I can't," you say. And you really regret it. "It's just not possible."

"I didn't think so," he sighs, then gives you a shy smile to let you know
he's not offended. "But you never know, right? It never hurts to ask."

You make love to Eduardo that night in the Pantego Motor Lodge off State
Highway 360. dead-heading back from your last load.

Normally you'd just pull over and catch 40 winks in your sleeper
berth. Nothing like snoring in the Tiltin' Hilton.

But Eduardo looks tired. He looks like a kid who could use a real bed and
the comforts of home. Or at least the comforts of a shower, clean sheets
and a TV with a couple dozen channels.

He showers forever. You hear him singing in in there. Moaning and sighing.

"Ohhhh, that feels good," you hear him say. "It's been days since I felt
this good. Days."

When a kid's that road weary, there's a soft spot in your heart. There's
very rarely one in your pants to match it, but your heart's soft at least.

With a kid like Eduardo, that tired and road-worn, you're just inclined to
leave him alone so he can get some rest. Let him have a long hot shower and
one night without some horny guy pawing at him. You're happy just to help
him.

But Eduardo comes to you anyway.

When he comes out of the shower, dry and smelling like cinnamon soap, he
doesn't even try to get into the second double bed. He comes to the one
you're in. He's naked and beautiful and unashamed.

You're lying on top of the covers, watching TV, but he takes the remote and
he turns it off.

"You're nice," he whispers. "I like you a lot."

"I like you back," you say. And you really do.

You're still in your jeans, but he unbuttons you and unzips you
expertly. He pulls them off. He unbuttons your shirt. He runs his hands
across your chest and whispers "Daddy" so softly you can barely hear it.

He reaches down and slides off your underwear. Your cock is hard and he
knows he's the one who made it that way. He gives the tip a kiss and a
strand of pre-cum sticks to his lips. He licks it off with wide brown eyes
looking right at you.

He climbs on top of you, belly to belly, naked and cool from the shower and
the a/c, and begins to kiss you. He takes your face in his small hands and
kisses you sweetly, with lips, with tongue, with sugary nibbles.

Then he kisses you fully. Like a grown-up boy. Like a boy older than
13. Like a boy who knows men. Because of course, he does. His kisses are
sweet and they taste like soda. But they're also hungry, and they taste
like desire.

He reaches down and strokes your cock. Sweet, luxurious motor lodge
handjob. He couldn't possibly make you harder, but somehow he does. You're
leaking like crazy and his hand feels like magic.

You roll him over on his back and lifting his legs, you go down on his cock
and his asshole. He tastes clean and pure, like water and soap. He moans
while you eat him and he presses his ass against your mouth. You finger
him, kiss him, and suck his pretty balls.

"Put it in me," he whispers. "It's okay. I like it in me."

Lifting his legs, you line it up and push it in, a half-inch at a time,
going slow, letting him adjust. First sphincter, second sphincter, in. And
then you're fully balls deep, and he's moaning and you're fucking. In and
out, until you grab the bottom of his ass, pull him toward you forcefully,
lift his tiny ass off the bed and cum in him so deeply it makes the breath
leave his lungs.

"Nnngh!" he grunts, and he's shaking from it too. Little drops leaving his
cocklet, squirting on to his belly button, where you'll lick them off a
moment later.

You sleep and cuddle with him, nestling him in your arms, and he feels so
good. So right.

In a different world, in a different life, you really would be his special
man. And he'd be your special boy. But that's not real. Can't be, for a lot
of reasons. But at least you have tonight.

Toward morning, you feel him spooning behind you, his arms wrapped around
your chest, his hard, hot spike pressing into the hot valley between your
ass cheeks. His cock is wet. He's lubed it with lotion.

"Can I fuck you?" he whispers softly.

You reach back and spread your ass. You push back against him and help him
get in.

He enters you quickly, five slender inches that feel like a shot, like a
poke, like a brief flash of pain, and then he starts pumping.

"Nnngh, nnggh," he grunts in rhythm.

"You like that, baby? You like fucking man ass?"

"So good," he says in a shaky voice. "So hot inside you."

"That's it, baby," you whisper back. "Fill me up. Make yourself a big boy
in me. Fuck my asshole, baby. Make yourself a big boy."

He does. He shudders. He shakes. He cums in you.

He leaves his dick inside you and falls instantly back asleep. You feel his
breath on the back of your neck. You feel his cock in your ass, still
hard. And most of all, you feel his dreams. Sweet, dreaming, lonely
boy. You hope he'll be happy someday.

And when you wake up, he's gone.

What Eduardo did after he left you: Found another ride. Hopped in another
truck. Arlington, Cleburne, and then down to Waco. Belton, Round Rock, and
then down to Austin. Which is where he met Baker. Which is where fell in
love.

What Eduardo was doing a year later: The man's name is Baker, and he really
is Eduardo's special man. Just like his friend Badger, Eduardo really is
Baker's special boy. They love each other immensely and they take care of
each other in ways they've both needed for a very long time.

They have incredibly fun and happy sex, because things really do work out
for the best sometimes. Sometimes life surprises you that way.

And I'll tell you their story too someday, because Eduardo really did get
to live happily ever after. He deserved it. He had it coming. He'd earned
it all a long, long time ago.

# # # # # # # # # # # # # # #

And now his story continues.

# # # # # # # # # # # # # # #

My name is Danny Tom Baker, and I've lived here in Austin for most of my
life. Got my degree at Texas A&M, so I'm an Aggie through and through. I
got my masters in Geology and came back home to Austin only three hours
away to work in oil and make my mark on the world.

Lived in Corpus for a while. Did some field work in Laredo on the Mexican
border, but mostly I've kept to Austin these 39 years of my unmarried,
privately gay life, happy to be here and doubly-blessed now, because
Austin's where I met Eduardo, who changed my life forever.

I live in Austin where I own my own house, but ironically, I met Eduardo at
an Austin hotel, which is rare, because who the hell stays at a hotel in
their own hometown when they have a house right there? Unusual right? I
mean, talk about a stroke of fortune. Stay at a hotel when you should be
driving home at night, but sometimes life surprises you that way and you
get the rare serendipity of meeting the kid who changes your life forever.

# # # # # # # # # # # # # # #

I was staying at one of the new extended-stay Sleepway Inns over on West
2nd, down by Lady Bird Lake, not too far from the convention center on
Cesar Chavez. There was a trade show in town that year I had to attend, and
rather than fight my way home through traffic every night, it just made
sense to get a room and just stay there. Easy in, easy out, and fuck it, I
made good money and had no one to spend it on but me, so it's not like I
was going over budget anywhere. Money bored me. It was just fucking money.

And boy am I glad I did get lazy and stay at that hotel, because that's
where I first met Eduardo, in the elevator going up to my room on the 5th
floor top, where he propositioned me for sex, and he had me from
hello. That was the end of the line for my bachelor days.

I got in at the lobby. Eduardo got in on the second floor, where he'd
already been working. I could tell he was a street kid the moment I saw
him. You just know. It's the little things you notice first. Scuffed shoes
a full year past needing replacement. Too-dusty jeans that were frayed at
the cuff. Hair in need of a long, hot shower. He was maybe 14. I could
smell the sexual, working boy heat of him.

"Hey," he said, smiling at me and looking me right in the eye.

"Hey," I said back, and couldn't help noticing how striking he was. A
creamy Latino boy. Mexican, of course, and deliciously so. I'd seen enough
Mexican boy tail in my life to recognize it by scent and by instinct when
it stepped into a closed elevator with me.

"You going up to 5?" he asked, looking at my lit button.

"Yep," I nodded.

"Good," he said. "Me too."

He smiled at me, but it was a weak, tired smile. A road-weary smile. A
smile you give the next guy you want to sell yourself to.

I'd paid for sex with boys before. I knew from the slow up and down
movement of his head, he was checking me out in a propositional way. It's
not too hard to notice a street kid. I stay in a lot of hotels for work and
they're out there in droves if you just pay attention.

The first boy who sucked me did it behind a dumpster at an old Stay-9 Motor
Lodge. I gave him twenty bucks and he swallowed. He was probably 11, if
that.

The first boy I ever fucked was 13, and I bent him over the toilet in a
bathroom stall in a Greyhound Bus station in Dallas. I came up his ass
without a rubber and gave him $100. He said he'd go with me for free to
Oklahoma City if I'd buy his ticket and pay for his meals and he'd let me
fuck him all night long when we got there, but I told him no. I had
business to do.

So when I met Eduardo in the elevator, I was already fairly savvy about
boys who worked hotels for men. They were common near convention
centers. Common near strip clubs. Common near tourist attractions.

More and more wary of disease and entrapment, I didn't indulge as much as I
used to, but this one was different. This one was pretty. This one made my
heart pound and my dick pay full attention from the second the elevator
door closed behind him.

"You staying here alone?" he asked casually. "Or with your wife and kids?"

Direct. To the point. I appreciated brevity.

"No wife," I shrugged, looking him straight in the eye. "No kids. Just me."

"You lonely for a friend?" he asked me, brown eyes shining, piercing into
mine.

"What kind of friend?" I propositioned, and we both knew what we were
talking about.

"I just made a friend on the second floor," he told me. "I swallowed his
friendship for sixty dollars, man."

"Is that how much you charge to make friends?" I asked him. "How about down
there," I asked him, nodding toward his culo. "How much you charge to be
friends in there?'

"One-sixty," he smiled, reaching down and casually running his hand along
back of his ass. "Sixty if we're mouth friends, one-sixty if we're friends
inside me."

"How come not fifty?" I asked him. "How come not fifty and one-fifty? How
come sixty and one-sixty?"

"You're a business guy," he shrugged. "Business guys have all
twenties. From the ATM's. Fifty and one-fifty, I gotta make change. Who's
got tens and fives to make change, man? Sixty and one-sixty, you just pay
me and we're done."

I smiled at his logic. "Makes sense." And God, I wanted to fuck him right
then and there, just on the strength of his math alone. I already knew the
cash in my wallet was a long-gone casualty to whatever would happen when we
got out of this elevator.

"You want to be friends, Mr. Business Guy Fifth Floor?"

"Yeah," I said. "I want to be friends. What's your name, papi?"

"Eduardo," he said softly, coming up to nestle his head into me. "Me llamo
Eduardo."

But then the elevator dinged and the door slid open and he stepped back
discretely, in case there was someone waiting outside. But there was no one
there. We had the hallway to ourselves.

I got out my key card. I looked at his tight ass as he stepped out in front
of me.

"528," I told him, and he fearlessly led the way. Boys like this have
walked down plenty of hotel hallways, and they're not scared of
anything. They dare you to scare them, that's how little you impress them.

"Let's go, Eduardo," I said softly, watching the curve of his swaying,
bubbly, dirty-jeaned ass. "Let's go to my room and be really good friends
for a hundred-and-sixty."

# # # # # # # # # # # # # # #

It was honest-to-God not my intention to fall in love with this kid. I had
a busy fucking day tomorrow. I just wanted to fuck him and get some sleep
and send him on his merry way.

I'd fucked a dozen kids from college through my 30's. I'm almost 40
now. I've had a dozen kids' ass slime on the length of my shaft. It all
washes off.

Nine boys I paid for, three boys I didn't.

One was a colleague's son. I fucked him secretly for three-and-a-half
years. From age 10 to 13 when he finally didn't want to do it anymore.

My gifts kept coming but his patience wore out. Some boys just refuse to
grow up gay, even if you're coaxing them up the ass every chance you get.

My coworker never even suspected. I took his son to ball games. Go Houston
Astros. And on the way back home, I paid for three-hour stops in sleazy
motels just to fuck him. I'd drop him off at the doorstep, his rectum
packed with my semen, tell his dad he was a great kid, scruff his head and
be on my way.

I was very proficient at fucking boys in motel rooms. It was hot. It was
dirty. There was a cockroach-filthy urgency to it. You got the job done
fast. You paid them when you had to, and you sent them on their way.

Wham, bam, thank you, ma'am.

Oh, joy, thank you, boy.

I fully intended to fuck Eduardo in this somewhat-nicer extended-stay
hotel, skip the kitchenette and head straight for the bedroom, disrobe his
dirty little body, pump cum up his guts, give him $160 in crisp new ATM
twenties and send him on his merry fucking way. No harm. No foul. A
business transaction the way nature intended.

But then I fell in love with him.

# # # # # # # # # # # # # # #

Eduardo's story, like any street kid, is hot from the outside and tragic on
the inside. Listen to this sadness from "Giving Me Lip 2." I went back and
re-read it, long after he told me about it months later, because I
remembered how it made me cry because he ever had to feel this way.

This is his friend Badger, also a street kid, talking about Eduardo the
year before I met him:

"I think Eduardo's gonna move to Texas. He says there's nothing to keep him
here anymore except me. He says he might as well try Texas where the stars
at night are big and bright. I hope he doesn't go, because he's my best
friend, man. I don't know what I'd ever do without him. I'd be lost. But if
he goes, I hope it makes him happy. I hope he gets to be special.

"I hope he finds someone he doesn't have to take money from. He's been
doing this for too long, you know? He deserves a nice person by now. Way
more than I do. He deserves a guy who'll be special to him, not just rent
him for a night. For an hour. It's hard to be rented for an hour then told
to go home. Especially if you're tired. And especially if the guy is nice,
you know? When he's nice to you, sometimes you just want to be held. And
sleep for a little while. Someplace safe. In his arms.

"Shit, man. That makes me cry sometimes.

"I'm sorry. It's been a long night. I shouldn't cry.

"No. You don't have to hug me. I'm okay. Don't worry.

"I can take care of myself."

# # # # # # # # # # # # # # #

Why is it street kids always think they can take care of themselves?

They're kids, partner. Just little kids who learned to get fucked.

As for taking care of themselves, they really can't do it at all.

# # # # # # # # # # # # # # #

"What's your name?" Eduardo asked me when we got up to my hotel room and I
locked the door behind us. I put the "do not disturb" sign on the door
handle, because hey, do not disturb me, maid in the morning. Keep your
fresh towels and mini-shampoo. I'll be in here butt fucking a kid.

"Baker," I answered him. "Danny Tom Baker. Everybody just calls me Baker."

"Baker," he smiled. "I like that. Baker."

He looked around the room and he shrugged at me.

"Well," he sighed. "You wanna fuck me, Baker, or just have me suck you off?
Fuck price includes the mouth first."

"Wow," I told him. "Right down to business."

"Well," he shrugged. "Not like we're dating, right?"

You wonder what happens to a boy to make him that cynical. That jaded about
life and all its trimmings.

I asked him if he wanted to eat first. You know. Room service, not dick.

And he said, "Nah, I'm good, man."

And he came over to me with a seductive smile and he reached up and wrapped
my arms around my neck and suddenly I was kissing a street boy like I've
never kissed a boy before. A lot of them won't kiss at all. They'll suck
and they'll fuck, but their kisses are off limits. Eduardo seemed hungry
for them. I wrapped my arms around him and I melted into him.

"Sorry," he said. "I'm kissing you too long. You probably just want your
dick sucked."

"You can kiss me as long as you want," I told him honestly. "I'm not going
anywhere."

So he did let me kiss him some more. And it was glorious. He tasted like
14, which is delicious.

Eventually, I led him to the bed and I laid him down, and I slowly started
undressing him. He closed his eyes, laid back, and submitted. I love that
word. Submitted. Submission. It's what I need a boy to do.

I unbuttoned his short sleeve shirt very slowly, spreading it open and
sucking his nipples as I bared him. He hissed in his breath as my mouth
touched his tits. He grabbed my head and pulled me to his chest. "Yessss,"
he whispered quietly and I nipped on his nipples.

I took his shoes off. Too worn. Too dirty. I didn't even know this kid, but
I already wished I could buy him new shoes.

I took his socks off. Peeled them off slowly. They were surprisingly
clean. His feet smelled like boy feet but not excessively so. Not sour or
rudely. Just the strength and natural foot scent of a 14-year-old boy who'd
worn his shoes all day.

I rubbed his feet slowly. Massaging them. He moaned and said "thank you." A
soft little gratitude. Not sexual, just relieved. It feels good to have
your feet squeezed. I kissed each foot. Reached up to the main
course. Unsnapped his teasing, covering jeans.

I slowly tugged them down and off. I buried my face into the white fragrant
fabric of his Hanes tighty whities. He smelled like boy cock and sparse,
sweaty boy pubes. Two smells I'd know from a stone's throw away.

I pulled his underwear slowly down. His dick smelled like heaven, but it
was still soft until I sucked it. Then it grew admirably and quickly.

I sucked him until he came in my mouth. He didn't expect this, me sucking
him to completion, and after he came in my mouth and I swallowed his sweet,
small offering, he closed his eyes and tilted his head back on the
pillow. "Thank you," he said. And I could tell he wanted to sleep.

I wish I could tell you I was a gentleman and let him drift off for the
night, but no, sorry, it was my $160, partner. Fuck-ready kids don't get
paid for sleeping on the job.

I pulled my shirt over my head. Unzipped my pants. Lowered them down and
off. Did the same with my underwear and beckoned him meet my cock. The
stiffest dick I've had in ages.

As he moved forward to wrap his lips around it, I gulped in pleasure and I
could still taste the remnants of his wad in my throat.

He sucked me expertly and I expected no less. But I really wanted to cum in
his butt, so I laid him down and moved him into position.

"Put it in me," he whispered. "It's okay. I like it in me."

I spooned him from behind while I kissed his neck. My cock slid into him
with spit lube and effort, and before I knew it, I was fucking him in and
out and he was whispering encouragement.

"So big in me, Baker. So big in me, man."

I licked his neck and told him he was hot inside.

"Fuck me real good, Baker. Fuck me like your baby."

"You are my baby, Eduardo," I whispered. "I love you, baby. I love your
fucking asshole."

I felt him cringe when I told him I loved him.

"I love you, Eduardo. I love how you feel inside."

"Stop," he said. "Just stop. Take it out."

I was confused. Was I hurting him? I was fucking him gently. I was
puzzled. I didn't understand. Street boys aren't fragile.

"Take your dick out of me!" he yelled. "Take it out! TAKE IT OUT!"

I did. Instantly. Because of paper thin walls.

"I don't understand...is it hurting...did I hurt you?"

"I'm sorry," he said, looking flustered and blushing. "I'm sorry,
man. Baker. I'm sorry. I have to go now."

I didn't understand. "Eduardo," I said achingly. I needed to cum in him. "I
don't understand. Did I do something wrong?"

"Don't tell me you love me," he said sadly. "Nobody loves me. They fuck me,
not love me. Fucks aren't the same."

He was frantic, angry, putting his clothes back on.

"Eduardo..." I said, nearly shell shocked. Disbelieving.

"No charge man," he said. "Keep your money. You're nice, Baker. I'm
sorry. I just have to go. I can't do this no more, man. It hurts in my
head."

"Eduardo," I told him, "It's okay, please. Just stay. Don't go. I won't say
it again."

He laughed. Bitterly. He was putting his shoes back on. He left his socks
where they lay.

"Course you won't say it again." Then an angry mutter, under his
breath. "Badger got love. Why can't I get love? Fucking too hard to look
for."

I didn't know who Badger was then. I hadn't read all these stupid fucking
stories yet. What the fuck did I know about badgers, man? Fifteen seconds
ago, my dick was in his cunt and I was paying $160 for the honor of
it. What the fuck was this kid talking about badgers for?

"I'm sorry I said I love you, Eduardo. It just came out. You felt so
good. I didn't mean anything by it."

He laughed. It was a bitter laugh, a hundred years old. A thousand or more
hurts came out in that laugh. "Of course you didn't," he said as he walked
away. "Of course you didn't' mean anything by it. Who ever would?"

And then he just left me. Opened the door, fully dressed, walked away and
just left me. The door slammed shut by itself. Stupid auto door
slams. Hotel doors sound like they're pissed at you, every time they close
themselves.

I sat there not understanding what had just happened. My dick was still
half-hard, glazed with Eduardo's sweet slippery ass sheen. A sheen that
smelled incredible, I don't mind telling you.

I had no idea what to do. Jack off? Run out after him? Call my mother and
tell her what a bad day I'd had? I mean, shit. What do you do when your boy
whore runs off on you? Miss Manners never wrote the protocol on this one, I
can guarantee you that, the prissy old twat.

"God damn it," I muttered under my breath, reaching for my jeans and a
t-shirt. "The maturity of underage prostitutes is definitely not on an
upswing these days."

I got dressed, grabbed my room key, and walked out into the hall. He was
long gone of course, but stupid fucking me, I was sure as shit going after
him, like a moth to an idiotic flame, that's me. That's Baker.

Why did I run out after him? Ask me again in another hundred years. I have
no idea why I went after him. Because he was pretty, I guess. Because he
touched my heart and I was tired of being on my own. Because he didn't make
change out of ATM's and if I was going to fall in love with a boy, this was
the year, and Eduardo found me lonely. I needed him as much as he needed
me.

"Stupid, shitty, damn it, idiot," I cursed myself as I headed toward the
elevator, expecting to push the button, ride it down to the lobby, step out
into the night air and find him impossibly gone. He had a fucking head
start and he'd be long gone before I made it down to the fucking first
floor. Life doesn't give you second chance like that.

Only this time it did.

I pushed the elevator button, expecting it to be empty, but it made a ding
and opened up immediately, still on my floor, and there was Eduardo, curled
up in the corner on the floor, hugging his knees, crying into an empty
elevator.

"Jesus, Eduardo, come back to the room, okay?"

He cried and he cried. He wouldn't even look at me.

"You're just so nice," he sobbed. "And I liked how you kissed me. And you
didn't even fuck me hard, and you didn't want to piss on me, or gag me with
your cock, or anything bad. And I just wanted you to like me..."

"Jesus, slow down..."

"And you're just so nice, and you said you loved me...but you'll leave me
in the morning..."

And the way he cried was beyond compare. He buried his head in his knees
and he sobbed with the fierceness of a whole long-lost childhood.

And I dropped to my knees and the elevator door closed. Ding, and it stayed
there. Nnobody pushed a button so it just held there in limbo.

I kneeled down on the floor next to him, and with stuggling effort, "leave
me alone," I knelt down and I took him in my welcoming arms. And I knew
what I needed to say to him then.

"It's okay, Eduardo," I whispered to him gently. "I'm lonely too. You're
not the only lonely one."

He cried even harder when I told him that. Melted into my chest and he
cried and he cried.

"Come on," I said softly. "Just stay with me, Eduardo. Come back to the
room and just stay with me tonight, okay? No fucking. No nothing. Just get
some rest and stay with me."

"Yeah?" he said, looking up at me with a little boy's eyes and such a tired
old soul.

"Yeah," I told him. "Come on, Eduardo. Just stay with me, baby. I'm a
lonely man. You're a lonely boy. We should stay with each other and just
need each other for while. Nobody should ever have to cry this much."

I held him in my arms and when he finally looked up at me I kissed
him. Just softly on his forehead. And then on his mouth. And nothing in my
world had ever been this innocent. This chaste. This impossibly
well-intentioned.

That's the moment I really fell in love with him. This crying boy who came
out of nowhere. Who was exactly what I needed. Who I knew right then, I
could never send away.

He cried and I held him, and I fell instantly in love.

I fell in love with Eduardo in the elevator.

# # # # # # # # # # # # # # #

True to my word, I didn't fuck him that night.

He cried again when we got back to the room. I held him. I undressed him
again quietly and I showered with him. I held him in the shower. Soaped him
gently, all over his body. I wasn't even erect. I just wanted to help him.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm just so tired. You can fuck me in the morning,
Baker. For free. As many times as you want. I'm just so tired tonight. I
don't think I can do it now."

"Shhhh," I told him. "Nobody's fucking anybody. I just want you to sleep,
Eduardo."

He cried some more. "I'm sorry. I'm hungry."

I ordered room service. I fed him. He seemed grateful.

"I'm so tired, Baker," he said to me softly. "You can fuck me tomorrow,
okay?"

"Okay," I whispered. Because I wanted to. I wanted him so much. My heart
was so full.

"Just hold me tonight," he said. "Don't fuck me. Just hold me. I'll give
you anything tomorrow, but tonight, just hold me."

I curled up behind him and I held him to my heart. When I wrapped my arms
around him, this beautiful street boy, naked and shivering, he started
crying again.

"I know it's not forever," he cried. "But just let me pretend it is. Just
for tonight, Baker. Then I'll go away again."

"Shhh," I told him. "Get some sleep, Eduardo. You'll be surprised where
life takes you."

# # # # # # # # # # # # # # #

That was two and a half years ago. The time it took me to write this
sequel. The time it took me to tell his story.

# # # # # # # # # # # # # # #

I fell in love with Eduardo in the elevator.

I took him home and I made him my life, and sometimes you really do get
your happy ever after.

To Badger and Eduardo and all the boys who needed love, thank you for your
trilogy.

To all the guys out there reading about them, I'm sorry this wasn't the
perfect jack-off story. I'm sorry I didn't let you watch me cum in
Eduardo's butt the next morning, which believe me, I did.

I've been fucking him relentlessly since the day he moved in with me, and
when I click submit on this story, I'm going to go upstairs and fuck him
again.

I'm going to fuck him so hard you'll hear it echoing off the next ten
stories you read. And he'll take my load and he'll beg me for the next one.

"Cum in me, Baker. Cum in me forever."

And you know? I really will.

I love Eduardo, and I'm grateful for his talent and his accommodating
rectum, but I'm way more grateful he's the reason I wake up now. This
piss-boner naked boy who wakes up in my arms every morning is more than I
ever hoped for, friend. More than I ever remotely deserved.

I can't stop taking care of him. And loving him. And making it all up to
him. The pain he faced in a lonely world. It's my mission in life to make
him feel worthy again. And dignified. And always loved. I think I'm really
doing that now. I hope that counts for something.

Like his story said when you met him for the first time, over
two-and-a-half years ago, he found another ride. He hopped in another truck
to Arlington, Cleburne, and then straight down to Waco.

Belton, Round Rock, and then he found me in Austin.

Which is where we met and fell in love.

My name's Baker, and I really am Eduardo's special man.

Just like his friend Badger, Eduardo really is my special boy.

We love each other immensely and we take care of each other in ways we've
both needed for a very long time.

Things really do work out for the best sometimes. Sometimes life surprises
you that way.

Eduardo really did get to live happily ever after. He deserved it, man. He
had it coming.

He'd earned it all such a lifetime ago.

# # # # # # # # # # # # # # #

THE END

# # # # # # # # # # # # # # #

Author's Note:

Eduardo first appeared in:

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/best-little-handjobs-in-texas
http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/giving-me-lip/

And all of these stories are dedicated to Benny, who grew up sane, in spite
of it all.

# # # # # # # # # # # # # # #