11. Benji

BENJI

I opened the door to the house and heard Judy Garland and Mel Torme singing “ The Christmas Song .” I knew the record that was playing well, it was Judy Garland’s Christmas , one of Mom’s old favorites. But apart from the sound of Judy and Mel singing, there was no other sound in the house.

No constant chatter.

No hysterical laughter at a joke that wasn’t even particularly funny.

No one shouting, “Are you still with us?” into Great Nan’s ear.

I took off my coat and walked into the living room, lifting the needle off the record before calling out, “Bastian? Are you here?”

Faintly I heard his voice. “Benji! I’m upstairs! In the attic!”

His tone was frantic.

I moved quickly and cautiously up the stairs, ascending the steep steps to the attic where I stopped in my tracks and muttered, “What the fuck?”

There in the middle of the room hung a large, elaborate sex sling, and swinging back and forth inside it—face down, ass up, and legs spreadeagle—was Bastian, utterly helpless in the clutches of the suspended sex harness.

From between the straps crisscrossing his face, Bastian eyed me and gave a wan smile. “Hey there. Thanks for coming. Do you think you could, maybe, get me outta this thing?”

“What the fuck is it?” I asked, mesmerized by the strange sight as much as I was confused and horrified.

“It’s not mine, if that’s what you’re asking. I came up here looking for table decorations for tomorrow’s lunch.”

“Dad moved all the Christmas decorations to the garage. He and Mom told me they’d turned the attic into a home gym.”

“If they think this is gym equipment, they’re shopping in the wrong place. Now can you please help me out of this?”

I began to walk over to him when, out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of the knickknacks and novelties on the shelves and walls. “Oh Jesus!”

“I don’t think you’re gonna find Jesus in here. Although I noticed there’s a string of anal beads hanging up over there that look kinda like a rosary.”

“Ew! That’s disgusting. Where are they? I wanna see.”

“Forget about the beads, Benji. Please can you just focus on getting me out of here?!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming.”

As I stepped up to him and examined his splayed, bound body, my only regret was that he wasn’t naked. The thought of him bare-assed in that sling instantly made me hard. I decided to take my time trying to figure out how to get him out of there.

“You’ve really got yourself into a mess there,” I observed, moving around the sling and studying the tangle of straps binding his legs and left arm. “How did you manage to get so coiled up in this thing?”

“I don’t know. I just sat down in it and suddenly the straps and pulleys took on a life of their own.” He paused and twisted his neck, trying to eye me suspiciously. “Wait a minute, are you enjoying seeing me like this? Is this turning you on right now?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. There’s nothing sexy about seeing you all tied up,” I lied, as convincingly as possible. “Trust me, I’ve got better things to do with my time than try and get you out of a sling.”

I reached for the straps twisted around his left arm.

I tugged at them, gently at first, then harder and harder until—

Click!

Clack!

Whoosh!

Pulleys spun.

Straps pulled tight.

And the one in my hand suddenly snapped taut, my fist still clinging to it.

It yanked me onto the sling, pulling me down on top of Bastian before the entire sling flipped, tipped and toppled us upside down.

Bastian grunted.

I yelped.

My legs flew into the air.

My arms were pulled wide.

We flipped again and this time Bastian landed on top of me, our bodies pressed together, our faces now an inch apart.

The sling bounced and creaked to a halt.

I tried to pull my arms and legs free, but they were now as tangled as Bastian’s were.

“Oh shit!” I mumbled.

“Oh shit all right. You were supposed to save me. Now who’s gonna save you ?”

“Relax, would you? We can get ourselves out of this. Maybe if you try to move that leg…”

“Which way?”

“Other way…”

“I can’t…”

“No don’t pull that way, you’re twisting my arm…”

“And you’re twisting my wrist…”

“And all I can smell is your damn cologne!”

“Lucky you.”

“What does that mean?”

He paused, his voice softening. “Nothing. It’s just my sense of smell and taste aren’t what they used to be. Guess I’m getting old.”

“Why do you still wear it if you can’t even smell it?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I like the routine of putting it on. Reminds me of Key Largo when you first bought it for me. Remember the weekend we spent there searching for antiques?”

“Remember it? How could I forget, I got sunburnt as hell. It was a disaster.”

He laughed softly. “Yeah, you got sunburnt all right. And I got to rub aloe vera into your shoulders and back all weekend. You might have been red as a lobster, but I remember how hard and horny those massages made you.”

“You can’t talk. They made you just as hard and horny as me.”

“I know.”

There in the sling, our bodies joined, I felt his crotch begin to swell and harden in his jeans.

My heart raced and my stomach turned anxiously.

I could feel my own cock bulge, unable to stop it.

We both fell silent, wordlessly locked in a gaze, both afraid to say anything.

I wasn’t sure whether the sling was still moving or my hips moved with a will of their own, but my pelvis inched upward, pushing hard against Bastian’s bulge, our cocks crushing against one another.

A desperate breath escaped him.

The hint of a groan escaped me.

He heard it, and in a voice so quiet it was little more than a whisper he asked, “Is it wrong?”

“Is what wrong?” My heart was beating so hard and fast now I could feel the pounding of it vibrate through the straps of the sling.

“Is it wrong that I want you so much right now?”

I should have told him, “Yes, it’s wrong!”

I should have told him I was no longer his to want.

I should have told him to quit teasing me, stop testing me, stop fucking taunting me.

But I didn’t.

I couldn’t.

Because I wanted him too.

So instead of telling him any of those things, I said, “I think we need to get out of this sling before we do something we’ll both regret.”

He sighed, then nodded. “You’re right. You’re totally right. I’m sorry. Let’s try to get out of this mess. The question is, how?”

“I’m not sure.” I tried to think as rationally as possible about our situation, despite the fact that my hard-on wouldn’t let up, and neither would his. I pushed our dueling dicks out of my head. He was facing down, I was facing up, so I asked him, “Can you see over my shoulder? Can you see your phone on the floor?”

He stretched his body to crane his neck, his torso and crotch rubbing even harder against mine. “Yeah, I can see it. But I can’t reach it. My hands are way too tangled now.”

I gazed up at the ceiling, at the clasps connecting the chains to the beam above us. “Maybe if we start swinging… if we swing hard enough… we might be able to yank this thing out of the ceiling.”

“I don’t know. It looked pretty secure to me.”

“I’d rather give it a try than die in this damn thing… or worse, let Mom and Dad find us this way. We’ll never hear the end of it.”

“I couldn’t care less if your parents found us like this.”

“I could! Now start swinging, would you?”

Together we began to pitch our weight, nudging the sling back a few inches, then forward a few inches more, until soon our sway gained momentum.

Unfortunately, the more we swung back and forth, the more our pelvises rubbed together, our bodies grinding as the chains squeaked and rattled.

I felt my dick become as hard as it could.

I felt his dick stiffen inside his jeans, crushing against mine and causing the most exquisite pain.

The sling swung harder, faster.

My eyelids fluttered and I caught my breath in short bursts.

The chains above clattered.

Bastian tried unsuccessfully to stifle a groan, lowering his face close to mine.

His heart pounded against my chest.

His lips were so close to mine I could taste his sweet breath.

“Oh God, I so wanna kiss you,” he uttered. “I need to kiss you.”

I shook my head. “We can’t. I won’t let you.”

The sling swung harder, the momentum pushing our straining cocks to breaking point.

“Benji, I need to kiss you. I think I’m gonna come. Let me kiss you.”

The thought of it took me instantly to the brink of orgasm.

I wanted his tongue in my mouth.

But I couldn’t let him.

I wouldn’t let him.

“Please,” he begged. “I’m coming. I’m—”

I turned my face to the side so he couldn’t kiss me.

Instead, he buried his face in my chest.

He bit down on my shirt.

He grunted and moaned and pushed his pelvis against mine as hard as he could.

In the next moment I felt a warm rush between our hips, and my cock joined his in an eruption of hot, sticky passion.

“Fuck!” I cried out, with Bastian still panting heavily against my chest, his teeth still clamped down on my T-shirt.

I let the gush of cum fill my jeans and seep through the denim.

My head spun with delight and the movement of the sling.

Then suddenly—

Snap!

One of the clasps connected to the ceiling beam broke away.

Followed by another.

And a third.

I gasped.

Bastian lifted his head from my chest. “What the—”

The fourth clasp broke and with a thud that shook the entire attic, Bastian and I—still entwined in the harness, still moving with the momentum of the swing—crashed to the floor and slid all the way over to one wall.

We both grunted, this time with pain not pleasure.

“Ow! Fuck!” I winced, Bastian still on top of me.

“Ah, shit! You okay?” he groaned with concern.

“I think so. Although you may have broken my coccyx in the fall.”

Bastian rolled off me. “You think that’s bad? I think you broke my cock.”

That’s when we heard the front door open downstairs, followed by my mother’s panicked voice calling out—“Ronnie! Darling, did you hear that thud? I think there are burglars in the house. Quick, check that the iPad is still in the utensils drawer!”

“Oh fuck,” I breathed. “My family’s home.”

Frantically we began pulling our arms and legs out of the now limp sling, throwing off the leather straps.

We heard the thunder of footsteps coming up the stairs, then clamoring up the steep steps to the attic.

Bastian and I realized there was no escape and stood awkwardly facing each other, until I glanced down and said—“Oh shit.”

“Oh shit what?”

“Your jeans!” I pointed to the large cum stain darkening the denim around his crotch.

“ Your jeans!” He gestured down to my own huge splodge of semen.

“Fuck!”

There was nothing to do but to try to hide our cum-stained crotches with our hands, as my mother appeared in the attic doorway…

Followed by my father…

Followed by Connie…

Followed by Maggie.

Thank God Great Nan was too old to climb the stairs, otherwise I was sure she’d have joined them.

“What’s happened here?” my mother said, eyes wide with concern. “Are you boys okay? Is anyone hurt?” She saw the sling crumpled on the floor and touched her fingers to her cheeks. “Oh my, how did that happen?”

“More importantly,” said Maggie, trying to look down to the floor as best she could despite the neck brace. “What the heck is that thing?”

Without answering her question, my Dad stepped up to the broken sex harness and plonked his hands on his hips. “Well, looks like you boys found our home gym.”

“Dad, I hate to tell you, but this is not a home gym.”

Mom gave a sly smile. “Oh, I don’t know about that dear. Your father and I get quite the workout up here.”

“Mom!”

“What’s the matter, darling? Just because we’re your parents, doesn’t mean we’re not allowed to have a little fun.”

“Since when was this your idea of fun?”

“Since your cousin started to enlighten us on the subject of free love.”

“This is your doing?” I asked Connie, although I was hardly surprised.

Expertly avoiding the spotlight, Connie sniffed the air and smirked at me and Bastian. “Say, kinda smells like jizz in here.”

“Does it, dear?” Mom remarked casually. “I don’t even notice it anymore. Ronnie, remind me to bring one of my air fresheners up here. The frangipani one would be lovely. It’ll be just like Tahiti in here.”

“Tahiti?” I asked, incredulous. “Mom, you’ve built a medieval torture chamber in our attic! What part of this says ‘Tahiti’ to you?”

Lost in her own world, Maggie knelt beside the sling and picked up one of its lifeless straps. “Looks like some sort of mountain climbing equipment to me. Next time I go hiking I may have to borrow it.”

“Maggie, it’s not used for mountain climbing,” I told her.

“Sure it is,” she said, fastening a leather strap around her waist. “Looks like good solid craftsmanship too.”

“Oh, it’s the best,” Dad remarked proudly. “This particular model is state-of-the-art. The best money can buy.” He looked at where the clasps had been pulled from the ceiling beam. “Although it looks like you boys really put it through the wringer.”

Connie gave me an amused and quizzical look. “What exactly were you two doing up here anyway?”

“I’ll answer that when you tell me why you’ve turned my parents’ attic into the Marquis de Sade’s love dungeon.”

“Oh chillax, Cuz. I could see your parents were ready to move toward a new realm of affection. I could see they were caught up in the same old routines. I could see they were ready to discover new and exciting ways to express their intimacy. So, I decided to guide them down the path of tantric lovemaking.”

I screwed up my face in horror. “Oh my God, please tell me you didn’t have sex with my parents.”

Connie, Mom, and Dad all laughed while I stood there waiting for an answer.

“Of course not, darling,” Mom said when she finally caught her breath. “Connie simply shared some ideas with us, ways to keep things new and fresh. According to your cousin, sex toys are like sudoku for the vagina. They keep your mind sharp and make you feel young and invigorated.”

“So does a brisk walk after dinner, but nobody needs nipple clips for that.”

“Maybe, but a walk isn’t half as much fun. With the Octopus Trap, your father and I can explore a side of each other we’ve never known before.”

“Not just a side,” Bastian pointed out. “With this thing you can explore every side.”

“Isn’t it wonderful,” my mother said with a clap of her hands.

“I’m sorry. Mom, did you just call that thing ‘the Octopus Trap?’”

“That’s right, dear. Even with eight limbs you couldn’t pick your way out of that contraption.”

“Then how the hell do you and Dad get out of it?”

“There’s a knack, darling. It’s like a Rubik’s cube. You just need to know which way to twist and turn. Besides, your father and I are never in it at the same time. That’s not what it’s designed for. You see, one person goes in, and one person—”

“Oh God, Mom, I seriously don’t wanna know how you get into the sling and what you do once you’re in there.”

My mother laughed again. “Oh darling, I’m not the one who goes in the sling. That’s your father’s role. I stay on the outside… wearing those.” She pointed to the gimp mask and the enormous shiny black strap-on dildo. “I simply buckle them on and…”

“No! No! No! No! No!” I practically screamed, covering my ears as I continued to drown out my mother’s voice. “Lalalalalalalalalalalala-doodoodoodoodoodoodoo-lalalalalalalala!”

Blocking out all sound, I watched Bastian turn white while my mother prattled on, going so far as to demonstrate certain positions with her hands like some perverted finger-puppet show.

After almost a minute, Connie took hold of my forearms and pulled my hands away from my sensitive ears. “Relax, Cindy Brady. Your mom’s finished explaining the whole thing. You missed the best part about the—”

“Lalalalalalalalalalalala-doodoodoodoodoodoodoo-lalalalalalalala!”

This time it was Bastian who lowered my hands, his face still pale. “It’s okay, I think the worst of it is over. Although when the Christmas turkey comes to the table, I’m going to be looking at the hole where the stuffing goes in an entirely new light.”

Suddenly a voice shouted from the doorway, “What’s all the racket about? Sounds like a goddamn fish market up here.”

We all turned to see Great Nan at the top of the steps, at which point my mother gasped in surprise. “Great Nan, what are you doing up here? You can barely get out of your chair.”

“I heard all the commotion and had to see what the fuss was about.” She pointed to the harness that Maggie was still trying to clip together as mountain climbing gear. “Whose sex sling is that you’re wearing? You’ve got the buckles all wrong. That’s not how you get into an Octopus Trap.”

Mom, Dad, Connie, Bastian, and I blinked back the shock before I asked Great Nan, “You know what an Octopus Trap is?”

“Of course I do. Those things have been around for decades, although in my day they were made out of real octopus. Jesus Christ they were bouncy… but oh so much fun. Now would someone help me down the damn stairs. It stinks like jizz up here.”

Needless to say, I didn’t stick around for lunch with my family. The Octopus Trap incident was enough to send me fleeing back to the BnB where I stripped off, showered, and shoved my jeans and underwear in the washing machine… although I may have lingered for a moment longer than I should have, catching the scent of Bastian’s and my cum mingling together on the jizz-stained denim.

I didn’t think I’d ever smell his cum again.

I also didn’t think I’d ever find myself stuck in a sex sling with him.

I wondered how many more unexpected turns this Christmas might hold.

When my phone buzzed and I saw there was a text message from Bastian, I was beginning to think the surprises were far from over.

I opened the message—

We need to talk. Meet me at the Xmas tree in the park?

I put on my headphones and started playing Paul McCartney’s “ Wonderful Christmastime ,” trying to convince myself that maybe things could indeed be wonderful, instead of confusing and infuriating and totally fucked up.

I still hadn’t worn my Maca-reindeer sweater in front of Bastian yet.

I still wasn’t brave enough to put it on.

As I made my way across the park toward the towering, shimmering town Christmas tree—now with nine ladies dancing and ten lords a-leaping since I saw it last—I spotted Bastian under the tree and noticed he was no longer wearing his YMCA Elves sweater either.

I wasn’t quite sure how to take that.

Had he been offended by my remark that wearing the sweater would be in poor taste?

Or was he filled with regret after the incident in the attic, finally ready to sever the cord between us?

I braced myself, preparing for history to repeat itself.

And wondering why I kept coming back for the same punishment.

“Hey,” he said as I approached, his voice quivering. I couldn’t tell if he was nervous or just cold. He was certainly rugged up enough, looking more gorgeous than ever in a white knitted scarf, white beanie, and a white sweater with a navy-blue pattern across the chest.

“Hey,” I replied. “You wanted to talk?”

“Um, yeah. You wanna sit?” He gestured to the park bench facing the tree a short distance away.

I nodded and we took a seat side by side, although Bastian sat forward as though on edge. As though his nerves wouldn’t let him settle. I chose not to look at him in case it might make him even more anxious. Instead, I gazed at Harry’s ornaments in the tree.

Two turtle doves kissing.

Five golden rings like oversized wedding rings.

Ten lords leaping as though they were running away from something.

“I guess I wanted to make sure you were okay after what happened today,” he said. “The whole thing was kinda…”

“Weird?”

“Yeah… it was definitely weird. Finding Lonnie and Ronnie’s attic of love was definitely weird. Although there was also…” He struggled to find the words. “There was also what happened in the sling. Between us. I guess I just wanted to see how you felt about that. If you were okay with that.”

“Were you okay with that?” I challenged. “I mean, you’re the one with the boyfriend.”

He seemed confused. “You’ve got a boyfriend too.”

Shit. Abe! I forgot about Abe. “That’s different,” I said, my mind racing. “Abe and I, we have an… arrangement.”

“An arrangement? What kind of arrangement?”

I shrugged, trying to act casual. “You know. An arrangement.”

“You mean to tell me the two of you are in an open relationship? You sleep with other people? But you were always a one-man guy.”

“Well… that was back when you were that one man.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “Things have changed.”

I could see him watching me intently from the corner of my eye. “Have they?”

“Of course they have. You have a boyfriend back in Chicago. How long have you been seeing each other for now?”

Bastian let out a sigh. “Too long, I’m afraid.”

“What do you mean by that?” I looked at him for the first time since sitting down.

“It’s… complicated.” Immediately he changed his mind. “Actually, that’s not true. It’s not complicated at all. Maybe that’s the problem. There’s nothing complex or interesting or engaging at all between me and Sterling. He’s a nice guy, somewhere deep down inside. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a handful… and you never wanna go shopping with him, not unless you’re thinking of taking up a career as a Sherpa and you’re happy to lug all his shiny new purchases home… but essentially he’s a good person. When we met, I needed a job. I needed someone to help me. He wanted to be that person. I guess I became his pet project. I guess we became a habit, then a ‘thing’, and eventually a couple. But we were never meant to last forever.”

“Does he know this?”

He nodded. “We both do. We’re just waiting for the other one to say it. The fact is, I’m not the one for him… and he’s not the one for me.”

I caught a glimmer in his eye, the reflection of the lights shining on the tree.

I didn’t know what to do.

I didn’t know what to say.

I wanted to kiss him.

I wanted to shove him away from me.

I wanted to scream at him.

I wanted to take him back and hold him forever.

But instead of doing any of those things, I had to ask—“So you’re going to break it off with Sterling?”

He nodded. “When I get back to Chicago. And then… well… I’m thinking of moving back to the Mill.”

I laughed, although nothing he said was funny. “Oh no you don’t.”

“Benji, wait. Hear me out. There’s something I’ve never told you. Something you need to know.”

“Oh, I know everything I need to know. I know you walked out on me when you got bored or scared or nervous about staring down the barrel of spending forever with me. And now you’re about to do it to Sterling too?”

“It’s not the same thing.”

“Yes it is, Bastian. It’s exactly the same thing.”

“Benji, would you please stop talking and listen to me for once? Just stop talking.”

“Don’t tell me what to do. Besides, I’d rather be the one talking than the one walking, which is what you did to me. You walked straight out the door and didn’t even say goodbye. You didn’t even have the balls to tell me goodbye to my face. All you did was leave some crappy fucking note saying you’re sorry. You’re sorry? Seriously? Well, guess what? Now I’m the one who’s sorry. I’m sorry you can’t come back. I’m sorry you don’t get to have everything your way. And I’m sorry you need to be the one who gets to sit alone night after night with nobody to hold, nobody to love, nobody to spend the rest of your days with. But I’ll be damned if I ever let you come back. I’ll be damned if I ever let you break my heart again.”

I stood.

“Benji, please.” His voice quavered again, but this time it wasn’t nerves. It was tears.

He tried to grab my hand but I pulled it away before he could snatch me. “Don’t. I’m through with this conversation. You want me to stop talking? Then fine. I don’t wanna talk about this anymore. I never wanna talk about us, ever again. Tomorrow you can meet Abe, and you’ll see how much he loves me. And you’ll realize you can never have my love again. I want you to see that… then I want you to go home to Chicago and never come back.”

With that I turned quickly away…

Before the lights on the Christmas tree could catch the tears in my eyes.