Blackmailed

by Victor Thomas

Chapter 1

October 2024

Kenny

I lay on my bed and did my homework. There was only one math task left, and as soon as I had completed it, I pushed the book away and turned onto my back. A smile grew on my face when I stretched my arms and legs toward the edge of the bed. It was our bed, my favorite place in the house.

I turned my head and took Javier's pillow in my hands. It smelled of him. Everything in the room smelled of him, and I loved it. The room had been my home for two weeks.

I had slept on a mattress on the floor for the first few nights, but soon Javier's mother had brought us a bigger bed we could share. And we had, indeed, shared it. Every evening, I waited for the opportunity to rest my head on my boyfriend's naked chest and wrap my arms around him. It felt so safe. And every morning, I had woken up to find his hand wondering around my dick. Just the thought of it caused a stirring in my nuts.

The water stopped running in the bathroom, and I heard wet steps approaching in the bedroom. He walked in, locked the door, and grinned. His dark hair was wet, and some drops fell on his chest and ran down toward the towel wrapped loosely around his waist.

I couldn't take my eyes off him, especially after he let his towel drop to the floor. I needed just one glimpse of his crotch and it was clear what my boyfriend had in mind. Well, to be honest, it wasn't just a glimpse, and I would have known his intentions even without the visual aid, but it was still nice to have, regardless.

"You were waiting for me already," he said.

He jumped on the bed and leaned in to kiss me.

"Ew." I tried to push him away. "You're making me wet."

He rested his naked body on top of me, ignoring my protest.

"Good. That was the intention."

Before I realized it, my arms had wrapped around him, and my hands were fondling my boyfriends back, moving lower, until they reached his butt. I squeezed both cheeks with my fingers and he groaned, pressing his hips against mine.

If I'm dreaming, please don't wake me up, I thought, as I closed my eyes. It was beyond awesome to share a bed with my boyfriend.

"Should we…" he said.

He moved so that his finger could reach the fly of my jeans. He didn't wait for an answer, but began unbuttoning them.

I kept my eyes closed.

"I love you," I whispered.

His fingers stopped, and he laid his head on my pillow. His breathing tickled my ear.

"I love you, too."

We hugged for a long time, trying to get as close to each other as possible. I could have stayed there forever. His body felt so warm, his skin so soft, and his dick not so soft at all when it pressed against my stomach. I wrapped my fingers around it.

"Someone's a bit excited today," I said.

His dick throbbed and grew bigger and harder inside my hand. It was huge, so fucking huge. I tried not to compare it to my own, but couldn't help the embarrassment filling my mind. What if he was just too polite to say how tiny mine was?

My fingers slid the foreskin slowly back and forth and I heard his breathing become heavier. Every time my fingers touched the head, his dick jerked. I hoped my boyfriend enjoyed it, and I was disappointed when he suddenly pulled back, almost falling from the bed.

"Wait," he panted.

His face twisted into a grimace and he held his breath. A groan escaped is lips when his dick started to shoot spurts of cum onto the blanket. He blushed and buried his head in the pillow.

"Shit! I'm sorry," he muttered through the pillow.

"Um, it doesn't matter," I said. "It was totally my fault."

I stood up and took a box of tissues from the night stand. I was about to wipe the mess when his hand stopped me.

"Let me at least clean it up," he said, avoiding my gaze.

"Javier," I said softly, "everything's fine."

"No," he grunted. He splayed out his hands and looked around. "It's not okay. I can't fucking control my…"

With an amused grin on my face, I grabbed the tissue box and began wiping his dick. First, he tried to resist, but after a heavy sigh, he let me do the job. Not many times in my life had I cleaned anything so carefully. I checked every inch of his manhood, making sure there wasn't the tiniest drop of cum left.

"I don't min d … um, how quick you are. Really." I tapped his dick, which was again hard and pointing up to the heavens. "Besides, this is quite cool."

"Whatever," he said.

His face had softened, though.

"I like my boyfriend hot and horny," I whispered in his ear.

Finally, a broad smile grew on his face. He pushed me onto my back and climbed on top of me.

"Ready for round two?" he asked.

I pondered whether it would be too soon to joke about it, but I couldn't come to the conclusion before there was a knock at the door. We both froze and turned to look at the door, checking that it was still locked.

"Lunch is ready," his mom said from the other side of the door.

"What is it?" he shouted.

"Spaghetti," she replied.

Spaghetti had always been one of my favorites. Mom always made the sauce out of celery, diced tomatoes, and tomato paste. Less than a month ago, I had been preparing it with her in our kitchen. She had browned the meat while I chopped the vegetables. And then, we had eaten together from expensive porcelain plates, careful not to drop sauce on the white tablecloth.

I wonder how she's doing.

That was an even bigger question I was too afraid to think about. She hadn't made any contact with me since the night she'd stormed out of the house after the social worker had proposed that I should live with Javier's family for the time being. Not a single phone call, text, or email. Just silence, like I didn't even exist.

"Aren't you hungry?" Javier asked.

He was standing at the door, already dressed in a t-shirt and sweat pants.

I forced a smile on my face, buttoned my jeans, and followed him into the kitchen. We only had to open the bedroom door to smell the delicious aroma of tomato sauce and garlic bread hovering in the air. Ms. Santos stood by the kitchen table and gestured for us to fill our plates.

"Thanks," I said.

I smiled at her and grabbed a plate for Javier and myself.

She waited until everyone had taken their share of food before she sat down and filled her own plate. No one said grace, no one even folded their hands. One by one, we just stated eagerly forking the spaghetti into our mouths.

I had hardly eaten half my food when Javier stood up to get more. His mom looked amused when she saw the huge pile of pasta on his plate.

"Kenny, there's more for you as well," she said. "Refill your plate before Javier devours everything."

My eyes gave a wistful glance at his plate, but my legs didn't move. Not that I didn't want to, but they had already given me so much, a place to stay, clothes, pocket money, and family. Yes, they were my family now. The realization moistened the corners of my eyes.

"Thanks, Ms. Santos, but I can't eat all your food" I told her, my voice thick and thankful.

She stood up, shaking her head. She grabbed my plate and scooped more spaghetti onto it.

"Haven't we agreed that you can call me Maria?" she said.

There was something familiar in the grin on her face.

"Yes, ma'am," I said, blushing. "Um, sorry, I mean…"

Javier poked me in the arm.

"He just can't help himself," he said.

I was about to say something, when the front door opened and Javier's brother burst into the kitchen. As usual, he didn't bother to shut the outside door behind him. I looked down at the table and sensed the tension in the air before anybody had even said anything.

"What's up?" Jorge said. He took out a beer from the refrigerator and began searching for a clean plate. "What's for lunch?"

"I didn't know you were coming," Maria said.

She walked over to the hallway to close the door.

My chest tightening, I stared at the food on my plate. I pulled it closer to me and rested my right elbow next to eat. Behind my back, he closed the cabinet and approached the stove. I tried to eat as quickly as I could.

"Where's the spaghetti?" he muttered. "There's nothing here."

Maria had arrived in the kitchen and looked inside the pan.

"Looks like there is to me," she said.

"Yeah, if I was a fucking hamster," he said.

He let go of the plate and it clattered on the counter top.

"Don't talk to your mom like that," Mr. Santos said, raising his voice.

Jorge let out a single wild laugh and picked the plate up again. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end, and I turned just a little to see what was happening behind me. Jorge took the spoon and scooped the few bites of spaghetti onto the plate. With an annoyed face, he stomped over to the table and dropped the plate in front of his father.

"Is this what you call dinner?" he snarled.

"How could we have known you were coming?" his father asked.

"At least you made sure that extra mouth got fed," he glared at me and continued emphasizing his words, "instead of your own son."

Silence fell in the kitchen, which was unusual, keeping in mind that both Javier and Jorge were there. Too afraid to touch my food, I just sat there and wished I could disappear under the table. I sensed Jorge's stare on me, but I kept my eyes strictly on the table.

"It would be better if you left now," Maria said to him.

She handed him a twenty-dollar bill to buy whatever food he wanted.

He snatched the bill out of her hand and stormed out of the room, without bothering to thank her. Then, the front door was slammed and a few moments later, a car accelerated down the street. I remembered to breathe again.

"Don't worry about him," Javier said.

I flinched and saw everyone looking at me. Mr. Santos touched my shoulder in a way I couldn't remember my own father ever doing.

"We want you to know that we're glad to have you stay here as long as you want," he said.

Javier's hand touched my thigh under the table.

"Let's go for a walk," he said.

I nodded. I pushed the plate toward the center of the table, even though there were still a few bites left. After the episode, it felt even worse not to eat it all, but I had lost my appetite.

"Thank you very much for the food," I said shyly.

His parents smiled at me. They were doing their best to make me feel at home, and I was certainly grateful, given my limited options, but what if they started to regret their decision to have me here?

By the time we had walked half a mile, I was smiling again. Now and then I even laughed and made sarcastic notes at what Javier said. The change in my mood wasn't only because of the sun and the big white clouds. Him holding my hand played a big role as well.

"Don't worry about Jorge," he said. "He's a huge douche bag."

I sneered.

"Sometimes it's hard to believe you two are brothers."

"I wish we weren't."

We arrived at the park and saw a few people exercising or walking their dogs. It was already autumn, but the scent of freshly cut grass was strong and reminded me of the times I had visited here with my mom when I was a kid. She always had homemade sandwiches packed in a plastic box and those goddamn carrots that were supposed to contain beta carotene, fiber, vitamins, antioxidants, and other healthy stuff. She never bought me ice cream.

"Want to race to the other side of the park?" he teased, flashing me a crooked smile.

"Me? Run? Are you kidding?" I said.

"Yeah, nerd boy," he shot back.

He can't be serious.

I hoped the other people in the park wouldn't laugh at me when I tried to run after him. He made it look so easy. His hands, his legs, even the muscles in his back were all designed for running. His perfectly synchronized movement was light and strong, agile, and powerful, everything that my clumsy, flouncing body wasn't.

We had proceeded halfway to the other side when I began to find some rhythm. For sure, I wasn't reaching Javier, and I was out of breath, but I didn't feel like a complete idiot anymore. Maybe, and that's a strong maybe, someday I could even learn to enjoy this.

"Come on, catch me," he shouted.

The bastard wasn't even gasping.

"I don't think so," I panted. "Besides, I like to watch your ass."

In a few minutes, we reached the other side of the park and returned to the sidewalk. At the next crossroad, we turned right and saw a familiar house a couple of hundred feet away. Neither of us had planned we would walk here, but it wasn't surprising to end up here.

"Moms in the front yard," I said.

I pushed him behind a van parked by the roadside.

He used the opportunity, wrapped his arms around me, and gave me a tiny kiss on the cheek.

"She would go ballistic if she saw this," he said.

"No shit, Sherlock."

We watched her taking two bags of groceries from the trunk and carrying them inside. Soon, she returned to get a box from the backseat. My heart missed a beat when she looked in our direction. Our eyes met, and even though it was probably on a fraction of a second, it felt like it lasted an eternity. Then, she walked back into the house and closed the door behind her.

She didn't notice me.

At least I wanted to think so. I don't know what would have happened if she had recognized me. Perhaps she would have rushed inside even quicker. I didn't have to remind myself that there had been no contact for two whole weeks.

"Would you like to talk to her?" Javier asked out of the blue.

"Huh?"

I turned to my boyfriend, who had a serious look in his big, brown eyes. I thought for a while and shrugged.

"I can wait here if you want," he offered.

"What should I say?"

It was more a question to myself. I wasn't even sure how I should I start the conversation. There was too much distance between us, and no feasible option to meet halfway. It was so goddamn sad that she had made me choose between her and Javier. In that game, she didn't have a chance, but she was still my mother.

"I can always come with you," he offered.

"I love you so much," I told him.

I hugged him. His fingers stroked my hair.

"Actually, let's not go there right now," he whispered. "You're giving me a boner."

I laughed, but didn't let go of my boyfriend.

We didn't visit her. Still, I was glad I had taken the first step. For the first time in two weeks, I had seen my mom and knew that she seemed to be okay. Sadly, it was more than she knew about me, and probably more than she cared too.

The house was empty when Javier and I returned home. After seeing my mom, I was even more convinced to call this home.

Home is where your heart is.

The woman I had called my mother had tried to ruin my life, and now she had abandoned me brutally and completely. Anger boiled in my veins. I couldn't help it, but I hated that my mom had such an impact on me. Everybody had better parents than mine, and it fucking sucked.

"Thirsty?"

Javier came from the kitchen carrying two sodas.

I stretched my hand out, but he hid the drink behind his back.

"What's the magic word?" he murmured.

"Please?" I let my chest touch his. "Pretty please?"

He kissed me and gave me the other soda. With a grin, he took several gulps, purposefully letting the water that had condensed on the can run down his face and drip all the way to his chest. The more he drank, the bigger the wet spot on his tank top.

"Oh, no," I said, trying to keep my poker face. "Your shirt is wet. We'd better take it off."

Laughing, he took me by the shoulders and pressed me against the wall. We looked into each other's eyes for a moment before he kissed me. My heart fluttered as his soft lips touched my mouth, and then my chin, and then my earlobe. I couldn't help letting out a weak moan when he gave my ear a tiny nibble. Chills ran up and down my arms.

I barely realized that we were, step by step, moving toward the bedroom. In the quiet house, there was no one to tell us what we could or couldn't do. I moaned again, this time louder and hungrier.

As he tenderly leaned me onto the bed, he darted his tongue against mine. I mirrored the movement, running my tongue over his teeth. My hands wandered down my boyfriend's muscular back and found his butt. I pushed my fingers under his sweatpants to get a better grip.

His hands were equally eager to touch everywhere on my body. The fewer clothes we had on, the more our excitement grew. But that wasn't the only thing that was growing. His erection waved freely in the air when he got rid of his briefs and jumped back onto the bed to drown me with kisses.

"My big boy," I said with a broad smile on my face.

My finger wrapped around his erection, which gave a powerful lurch.

He blushed and moved his hip away.

"Um, be careful there…"

"Oh, sorry," I said quickly.

"Shh," he whispered. "I just don't want to bust my load yet."

I rolled my eyes. If someone was horny, it was definitely my boyfriend. I had little time to savor my impact on him before he flipped me onto my back and sat on my hips.

"My turn," he said.

He kissed my face as he gently rocked back and forth, grinding our bodies together.

It was me who whimpered now.

With a mischievous grin on my face, I set my fingers on his shoulders. My hands traveled down, massaging his gorgeous, toned torso. When my fingers hit the area just above his butt, I heard a subtle moan and his groin pulsed wildly against mine.

"Bastard," he whispered in my ear, raising his hips.

"I didn't do anything," I said, grinning.

He sighed and moved sideways on the bed. I tried to reach his erection, but it was too far away. Instead, his fingers found my dick and began jerking it with increasing speed. I stretched out my head, raising my chin out of satisfaction. Just before I closed my eyes, I noticed the bedroom door was ajar.

"Should we lock the door?" I asked.

The timing was probably the worst, but I couldn't help myself.

He kept the rhythm.

"You don't want someone walking in just when you cum, do you?"

No! well, yes. Maybe. Actually, I wasn't sure what I wanted. The pressure in my balls was growing bigger than I was able to hold back. His hand slowed down, but not enough. A loud groan escaped my mouth and my body jerked several times as I shot my load all over the bed and on my face and hair.

"Oh fuck!" I huffed. "Holy fucking shit!"

"Wow," he said. "Have you saved your load for like a year or something?"

He wiped his fingers on my thighs.

I was about to answer when we heard a small sound from the living room, which was right down the hallway. In a split second, he had sat up, his eyes wide, and I had pulled a sheet over us. It was wet and cold against my back, but right now it didn't matter.

Is the door just a bit more open than it was a moment ago?

"What was that?" I whispered.

We stayed there quiet for a long time, but couldn't hear anything.

"Probably nothing," he said. "Someone there?"

There was no response.

I stared at the door for several seconds before my mind began to calm down. If his parents had come home, we would have heard the sound of the engine, the car door being opened and closed, and the steps to the front door. And then, they would have opened the front door and brought the groceries to the kitchen.

"Hey," I exclaimed when he pushed the sheet aside.

"It's all soaked." He pushed me onto the drier side of the bed. "Besides, we were in the middle of something."

I couldn't resist his tempting big, brown eyes, which were smiling at me.

"Okay, big boy. Turn on your back and let's see how long you last this time," I said, my voice teasing.

Oh god was that too much?

There was a flash of embarrassment on his face, perhaps, but he hid it well. What if my boyfriend liked small teases? At least my words got his erection to grow harder and harder.

"The merciless fist against the minute man," I said, taking a better hold of his dick.

He closed his eyes. His breathing was heavy and abrupt. It was like I was holding a bar of steel in my hand, except steel seldom leaked a constant flow of precum. He definitely liked being teased.

"Thirty-one… thirty-two… thirty-three," I whispered in his ear.

His erection throbbed and his body tensed. Then, it throbbed, again, and again, and again. There was a short pause and then he lost control. Perhaps he had already lost it a while ago, but now the fireworks started. I stroked him slowly until the spurts stopped.

"You're amazing," he whispered.

I was about to kiss him, but flinched when something thudded again, this time closer to our bedroom.

"What the fuck?" He grabbed a towel hanging on the chair and wrapped it around his waist. He walked to the door. "Is someone there?"

Again, nobody replied.

This time, he closed the door and locked it before he returned to the bed.

"This fucking house is haunted."

"Are you sure there isn't anybody?" I asked.

"I'll protect you if there's some psycho serial killer," he said, wrapping his arms around me.

I planted a kiss on his cheek.

"My hero."