Henry's End Read Online Free Page B

arm tightening around Henry’s neck.
    The moment Henry felt the crook of his arm squeeze his neck, he began to pump himself into the man’s hand, “No. I don’t want little boys.”
    “Then what is it you want?” The man had Henry by his cock and was pressing him firmly against his own hard-on, grinding harshly against his ass.
    “I want you.”
    “Good. And I don’t want you dancing with those boys. Do you understand that?”
    Henry nodded his head, yes.
    With his hand firmly encasing Henry’s privates, the Marine pressed the smaller man against him and continued to let Henry feel the pressure of his cock against his ass.
    Henry leaned his weight back into him, eyes closed. There was nothing in the world except the guy’s hand kneading and pressing his balls. He wanted to stay in the moment forever. Submit to whatever the man wanted from him.
    And then he was gone. Leaving Henry against the wall with a raging hard-on and a need to feel the Marine’s hands and cock again, hear his voice, low and raspy, in his ear. Without removing an article of clothing or coming, he had never had a sexual experience that excited him as much, and he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he would always remember the sublime feeling of being restrained by this man.
    He wanted more.
    When he exited the bathroom, the Husky-eyed Marine was nowhere to be found, and a breathless Henry staggered into the daylight and embarked on a stunned bike ride home.

“It was the hottest thing ever,” he confessed to Edwin, in a hushed tone, three nights later at the laundry. Helping to fold before going out on his nightly delivery run, “He had me immobilized and I could feel every inch of his big, beautiful cock.”
    “You don’t know if it’s beautiful. The damn thing could be covered with warts,” Edwin snarked, with a dismissive wave.
    “Or sores,” a nearby worker piped in and was met with a chorus of “ewwww”.
    “I had warts,” Edwin confessed, as if he were letting the world in on an Earth-shattering secret. “I did,” he looked at them all seriously. “I had to be circumcised at forty-three. I’m serious. It was the most painful thing in the world. And no one threw me a Bris. I didn’t get any presents. Not a single one. But let me tell you, those bandages made me look like I had the hugest package. I’ve never gotten cruised so much in my life. It was fabulous,” he reminisced.
    “So why did it take you three days to tell me this?” Edwin finally asked, as he loaded sheets and towels into a plastic bag and labeled them.
    “I don’t know,” Henry shrugged his shoulders, “I’ve been processing what happened. Trying to make sense of it.”
    “Sister, lust never makes sense,” the older man advised.
    “Ain’t that the truth,” another worker chimed in.
    With his laundry parcels in panniers on either side of his bike, Henry cycled off for his evening’s deliveries.
    His last delivery of the night was Stephen, a former fabric designer. “They misdiagnosed me for nine months,” he confided in Henry, “telling me that it was an ingrown hair, then a mole with an ingrown hair, and then would you believe it, an infected spider bite.” The black lesion on his leg had grown to the size of a half dollar and his once handsome face was marred by at least a half dozen of the irregularly-shaped black spots.
    “Is there anything more that I can do for you? Pick up groceries?” Henry realized that Stephen and the other clients were probably venturing into public less and less, when in fact, they needed the interaction and support of community more than ever. “Please tell me what can I do?”
    “I was just going to sit down and watch Beverly Hills 90210 , my secret guilty pleasure.” He smiled with a shrug.
    Stephen had been his last drop off of the night, “I’d love to join you.” Henry sat down on the couch next to him and settled in for the hour, watching Dylan and Brandon and Brenda and Kelly and a handful of