Page 9 of Becoming Ben

We stop at a fallen tree to drink some water, and then Trey does the unimaginable: He grasps the hem of his t-shirt and strips it off.

He is facing away from me when he does it, and I’m instantly grateful for that because it takes me a full ten seconds to ratchet my jaw back into place and school my face back to something normal.

I have never in my life experienced such a visceral reaction at the sight of another body. His broad, muscular shoulders flex as he tucks his shirt in the back of his belt, then stretches his arms high over his head.

As he turns around, I look away quickly, chugging my water to give myself something to do.

“Hope you don’t mind,” he says.

I shake my head, letting him know it’s fine. I don’t trust my voice. I feel so many things right now, and half of them are entirely new. I’ve felt physical desire before, or at least I thought I had. With Trey, though, I literally ache to touch him. I want to run my hands along the expanse of his shoulders. I want to feel him shiver under my hands again. I want to taste the sweat on the side of his neck, and I want– God! I want other things that I can’t even admit to myself.

Trey smiles at me, and I manage to smile back, but I’m aware that I’m suddenly rock-hard in my jeans, and I turn away to check if the shirt I have tied around my waist hides it. It does, fortunately, but I am acutely aware of what my body wants.

“Ready to go?” Trey asks, pulling his backpack back on.

“Absolutely!” I reply, cringing internally at the weird amount of enthusiasm I just displayed for no reason. I clip the collapsible watering dishes I used for the girls back on my pack, and we continue up the trail.

I gesture for Trey to take point, partly so I can hide and partly so I can watch the way he moves. My perfect view is not helping my erection problem, but my mind helpfully begins to supply all the reasons why what I’m feeling is wrong. He is young. He is Mandy’s friend. He is far too beautiful for me. He is a man.

I’m too old, too stagnant, too dull, and what do I know about decent sex with either gender? My divorce — and the way I felt about it — proved that.

We keep going, though the conversation has waned as my focus is divided. I’m still mostly hard, despite my brain reminding me why it’s wrong, and it’s distracting enough that Trey is the one who points out the deer in the distance. The girls know that they’re not supposed to chase wildlife, and they come back to us and keep our pace, their tongues lolling as they pant. Their coats are full and luxurious, and the day has gotten hot; I know they’ll appreciate a run through the sprinkler tonight.

The plan is to complete a large, oddly shaped loop, and we stop midway to eat our picnic lunch. It’s close to two o’clock, but the sandwiches are still chilled from the ice packs and very good. Trey actually moans when he takes his first bite. I shiver as the sound feels like it vibrates right through me.

“Ben, these are really good! What did you put in them?” Trey asks after he swallows. “Garlic butter?”

I smile. “Yes. I don’t trust mayonnaise-based spreads in the heat, so I made garlic butter with chives and a few other things.”

Trey takes another bite and shakes his head. “It’s amazing. Everything you make is so good.”

I flush, the praise sending warmth up my spine. “Thanks, I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”

“I really do,” Trey assures me.

The second part of the loop is a little slower, despite being mostly downhill. The heat and our full bellies make the pace more leisurely. I am still struggling with confusion and guilt about how his broad shoulders and sincere praise make me feel, so I spend the better part of the time quiet, lost in my thoughts.

We reach the house and I let the girls into the backyard with a full water dish and lots of shade. Trey unloads his backpack and fills himself a fresh glass of water. “I enjoyed that a lot,” he says after he chugs half the glass. I almost miss the words because my eyes are locked on the way his throat bobs as he swallows. My eyes belatedly flick upwards to his smiling face, and he raises one eyebrow and smiles a little wider. “The sandwiches were amazing,” he continues. “And seeing all the animals was awesome. I really appreciate you inviting me along.”

“Oh no, I’m really happy you came,” I say, and his smile brightens further. “I loved the company.” It’s true, I did. Even with the discomfort of my weird thoughts, this was one of the best days I’ve had in a long time.

He heads for the stairs to his room and stops to pat my arm on the way by. The contact sends a flare of heat through me. “Thank you, Ben,” he says warmly, looking down at me, and just like that, the aching hardness is back.

I watch him leave, his broad shoulders filling the stairwell, and suddenly, I can’t stand it any longer. I head for my shower, clothes hitting the floor as soon as the door closes. I turn the water on, my hand straying to my hard dick as I wait for it to warm. I get under the spray as soon as I can and pump out a handful of shower gel, rubbing it over my chest and belly and down to my dick. The first slick rub with a tight fist makes me groan aloud, and I brace my other hand on the wall of the shower as I set a hard pace. Images from the hike swim in my mind, along with echoes of Trey’s deep voice praising my lunch and telling me how much he enjoyed spending the day with me.

I remember his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed his water and that does it. I come so hard my knees go weak, and I have to lock them to stay upright.

As my heartbeat slows and I catch my breath, I realize what I’ve just done. I just jerked off to thoughts of my daughter’s best friend and had the best orgasm I’ve ever had in my entire life.

Shit.

10

Trey

Ihead up the stairs, snag clean clothes from my bedroom, then duck into the bathroom and turn on the shower. I’m sweaty and sticky, and I want to cool down. I’m a little bothered by some of the interactions with Ben today. He vacillated between his normal, almost puppy-like enthusiasm and something that felt guarded and awkward. I hope it isn’t something I’ve done. His reaction to my praise for the sandwiches and later on for inviting me with him, as well as the way he clammed up when I took my shirt off, had me wondering.

I ponder it while I clean up and pull on comfortable clothes. I like Ben a lot, and I don’t want to make him uncomfortable. I consider asking Mandy if she has any ideas, but then I remember that I jacked off to thoughts of her dad and that I should probably just figure it out on my own.

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