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CHAPTER 2

Free Lunch

DECEMBER 2001 | BEN:

    When I first arrived in New York a jobless teenage dad, the phrase I heard the most was "You gotta meet my friend so-and-so." Everyone claimed to know someone who knows someone who'll get me my big break and help me achieve superstardom in no time.

    Turns out, actually backing up those promises was something people were far less eager to do. Instead, I spent all day at my uncle's place, looking at job ads and jerking off.

    "So, how've you been?" Uncle Mitch asked me one evening in early December, stumbling home tipsy after another night out. By this point, I'd been staying with him in the city for about ten days. "I haven't seen too much of you."

    "Yeah, whose fault is that, Uncle Mitch?" I laughed. "You're the one who's always out."

    "Guilty. But hey, not like you're not invited."

    I smiled. My uncle seemed to only socialize with other gay men. Not that I had anything against them; I was hoping to be a model and I was sure they'd be a huge part of the industry. I just didn't necessarily want to spend every evening at a gay club. Not like I could get in easily anyway, being 18. ("Oh, you're gorgeous. Just flirt with them a little bit and they'll let you in," Uncle Mitch had said.)

    "I've been okay," I answered. "Just waiting for callbacks."

    "Did you hear from my friend Al?"

    "No, not since the Thanksgiving party."

    "Hm. I'll check back with him. He seemed to love you."

    "I just hope I didn't leave a bad impression."

    "Nonsense. Although, you did disappear for a while in the middle of the party. Where'd you go?"

    I thought about it for a second and decided to tell my uncle the truth. Well, at least partly.

    "I was talking to that guy Parker."

    Uncle Mitchell's eye widened in surprise.

    "Why, what's wrong?" I asked.

    "Nothing. Nothing," he hesitated for a minute, before continuing. "Parker Anderson is a very well-connected man. Very wealthy. Old money. I was surprised to see him at party, I didn't know he was close friends with Al and Bob."

    I listened and waited.

    "Truth is, I'm sure he could get you in any modeling agency you wanted," Mitch continued. "The reason why I didn't push you to talk to him more at the party is… he's usually more distant. Works a lot. Keeps to himself. Not as… outgoing, as most of my friends."

    I remained silent.

    "What did you guys talk about?" Uncle Mitch enquired.

    For a second I considered telling him the truth. But I just couldn't get myself to say "he paid me $500 to watch him jerk off" out loud.

    "Not much, how I like New York, random stuff," I said.

    "Would you say he liked you?"

    I was a bit surprised to be asked that.

    "Sure, he seemed nice enough."

    "Ben…" Uncle Mitch said, approaching the couch I was sitting on in just my boxers and a T-shirt. He sat down next to me and put his hand on my bare knee. "If you can get closer with a man like Parker Anderson… It could be very beneficial for you."

    "Closer, how?"

    "Well, he's gay, and you're drop-dead gorgeous," he said, his hand wandering up my thigh very slowly. "Of course, he knows you're straight, so he won't attempt anything serious with you. But I'm sure he won't mind having someone as young and good-looking as you. All I'm saying is, with men like him, if you flatter them a little bit… you could go a long way."

    I nodded, feeling a tingle go up my spine. My thigh was starting to feel ticklish with Uncle Mitchell's hand on it. 

    "I'll talk to Al," my uncle said, getting up and brushing his hand up my leg as he did so, almost up to my boxers. "I'll see if I can get Parker's number from him. Maybe you should give him a call."

    Three days later, I was the one to receive a call. I'd never called Parker, even though my uncle had gotten me his number. It just felt awkward and opportunistic. I know Uncle Mitch liked to think I could get away with murder because I was "drop-dead gorgeous"; but I was sure the handsome boys knocking on Parker's door were a dime a dozen, most of them gay and actually able to give him what he wanted.

    I hated having to answer Uncle Mitch's phone when I was home alone, but I'd applied for a couple of jobs and was waiting to hear back, and since I didn't have a cell phone, this is the number I gave them.

    "Hello?" I picked up the landline.

    "Hi. Ben?" a man's voice said sternly, sounding like he was in a rush.

    "Yes?" I answered skeptically.

    "It's Parker. Are you free for lunch?"

    "What?" I was taken aback.

    "It's almost lunch time, are you free?"

    "Umm, yeah, sure."

    "Meet me at Wolfgang's Steakhouse downtown," he said briskly while walking. I could hear traffic in the background. 

    "Oookay," I said, reaching for the paper map of New York I had nearby. "Where do I need to get off?"

    "What?" 

    "Which subway station do I need to get off at?"

    "Just get in a cab, I'm almost there. I'll pay for it when you get there."

    "No, that's fine," I said. This conversation felt more bizarre by the second. "Okay, I'll take a cab. See you there soon."

    I hung up, and had to shake my head to get myself back to reality. From my otherwise empty suitcase, I pulled out an envelope with cash and took out a couple 20s. I'd sent most of the money Parker gave me on Thanksgiving to Danica, my son Sam's mother; but I still had some saved up. I put on a nicer T-shirt and checked my long hair in the mirror, before heading out.

    "Ah, you made it," Parker said when he saw me walk into the full steakhouse. It'd only been 10 or 15 minutes since we spoke, but it made me feel like I'd left him waiting for ages. "D'you need money for the cab?" he reached for his wallet.

    "No, that's fine, thanks, I paid. He's left," I said, taking a seat. Within a second, a server was by my side asking to take my order. Feeling confused, I looked at Parker's plate and said I'll have the same.

    The server left, and I finally had a couple of seconds to catch my breath.

    "Thank you for coming to meet me here," Parker said, smiling discreetly. For the first time today, his voice sounded gentle.

    "Are you always this bossy?" I looked him straight in his eyes. His smile widened.

    "I just know what I want."

    "And what is that? What do you want?"
   "I wanted to have lunch with you," he said matter-of-factly. "And here we are."

    The server came back, pouring water into my glass and asking Parker if everything was alright with the food.

    "It's fine, it's fine," Parker shooed him off, then looked back at me. "You never called."

    "Was I supposed to?" I asked with a tone of surprise.

    "You were asking for my number."

    "I wasn't. My uncle was."

    "Oh. Then maybe I should have lunch with him."

    "Ha!" I laughed loudly. Then, I leaned forward and reached for Parker's wine glass, and took a sip. "Go right ahead. I'm sure he'd love that."

    Parker observed me for a second. I smiled, as the server came back with my food.

    "Anything else, Mr. Anderson?" he asked Parker.

    "No, that's fine."

    "They know you by name?" I noted.

    "I come here a lot," Parker said, taking a large sip of his wine. "I got you an agent," he said suddenly.

    "What?" I almost chocked on my food, but tried to act nonchalant.

    "The best in town. Here's his card," Parker took out what looked to be a gold business card holder and passed me a card. "Give him a call and he'll sort you out. D'you have your own phone yet?"

    "You mean a cell phone? No."

    "Here's my card, then. Drop by the office tomorrow and there'll be one waiting for you at the reception desk."

    I was confused, but accepted the card.

    "Why are you doing all this?" I asked.

    "'Cause I'm a nice guy."

    "And what do you want in return, Mr. Nice Guy?"

    "Who says I want anything?"

    "There's no such thing as a free lunch," I said, pointing down at the food on the table.

    Parker laughed.

    "You're right. But there's no catch this time. You seem like a nice kid. Just thought I'd help out."

    "So you're not gonna ask me to go back to your place and suck your cock or something?"

    Parker laughed again.

    "Thanks for the offer, but I got a meeting to go to."

    He took one last bite of his food, and asked for the check. I'd barely touched my food.

    "Can I have this to go?" I asked the server when he came to take payment. Parker, of course, was the one paying. Which was definitely good; I hadn't even looked at the prices at this place, but looking around, I don't think the cash I had on me would be enough.

    "Feel free to stay here and finish," Parker said.

    "No, I'd rather have it at home."

    "Where do you live?" he asked, putting on his jacket.

    "Chelsea."

    "I'm driving uptown. Come, I'll give you a ride."

    Just like that, we were both headed to Parker's car. I was surprised to see him sit in the back, when I realized we weren't alone.

    "Hello, Philip," he said to the driver sitting in the front as we joined the busy Manhattan traffic. I greeted the driver and told him my address.

    "Thanks for this," I said, playing with the two business cards in my hands as the car drove slowly uptown.

    "You're welcome," Parker replied.

    "So, there's really no catch?" I asked skeptically.

    Parker laughed.

    "Look, kid, I got a slew of people waiting to suck my cock if I wanted to." I was surprised to hear him talk like this in front of his driver, who didn't even react. "I really am just trying to be helpful. Besides…" he added playfully, "I, usually prefer to be the one doing the sucking."

    "Oh, is that so?" I turned to my right to look at him.

    He looked at me from the side of his eye and smirked.

    "I haven't had a blowjob in a while," I said casually, looking out the window.

    A couple of seconds of silence followed.

    "And what am I supposed to do with that information?" Parker said smoothly.

    "Do with it… what you will," I looked at him again, spreading my legs open and taking up most of the backseat.

    I knew exactly what this would lead to. And I have no idea why, but I was encouraging it.

    So far, life in New York hadn't been all it was cracked up to be. There was no amazing career, no money showers, no hot girls, no extraordinary experiences. Until Parker. He made me feel like I was in a movie, with his confidence and suaveness. A part of it was that I wanted to be like him when I am older. I admired him and was attracted to him at the same time. And hey, if I was gonna have a guy suck my cock… I was curious to let someone like Parker do it.

    Of course, doing it in the back of his car, with the driver right there, in the middle of heavy Manhattan traffic, added to the excitement. It's nothing like what I've done before.

    Parker licked his lips, and loosened his elegant purple tie. I smiled, and unzipped my jeans. The driver kept his eyes on the road, fully aware of what was happening in the backseat.

    Two seconds later, my cut dick was in Parker's mouth. I could tell he was impressed by how long it was, even though I was still flaccid. Pretty quickly, I started to go hard. I leaned back and closed my eyes, like I usually did when enjoying a blowjob. Then, I realized I was even more turned on by the situation I was in and opened them again.

    I looked at the cars and pedestrians and cyclists around us, wondering how much they could see. I looked at the back of Philip's head, wondering how many boys have had their dicks sucked by his boss in his presence.

    As for Parker, he wasn't bothered with keeping things discreet or silent. He slurped on my dick with gusto, louder and deeper as I got harder, swallowing my precum. My balls pulsated in his large hand as he played with them gently.

    Things were getting hot in the car. Parker took his coat off without taking my cock out his mouth for a second. I put my right hand on his back, patting it, admiring how fucking smooth his shirt was.

    "You like that, boy?" Parker asked, taking my dick out his mouth for the first time since we'd started.

    "Yes sir, Mr. Anderson," I teased.

    Parker shot me a devilish grin and smacked my balls playfully. I squirmed, but I laughed. Parker lifted his head and came face to face with me, stroking my fully-hard cock with his hand.

    "Kiss me," I said, looking at him dead in the eyes.

    He waited a second, as if giving me a chance to change my mind, then leaned forward and gave me a kiss. A kiss that would change my whole life.

    Fireworks went off inside my chest as I felt his large tongue in my mouth and his stubble on my chin, all this while he was jerking me off without missing a beat. It wasn't because I was in love with him or anything, or because we were in such a kinky situation. It was the first time I'd kissed a guy. It was so different than all the girls I'd kissed, even though most of them were girls I had genuine feelings for. It's funny how sharing a kiss felt so much more intimate than having him suck my cock.

    We started to make out passionately, like lovers; and sloppily, like two kids doing it for the very first time. We kissed until we ran out of breath. Meanwhile, my cock felt incredible, Parker stroking it nonstop. I looked down and saw my mushroom head pinker than ever, precum gushing down all over Parker's hand.

    He looked down as well and stuck my cock back in his mouth, slurping and swallowing loudly. I took a deep breath and exhaled loudly, feeling incredibly good and turned on. In the rearview mirror, I noticed Philip catching glimpses of us, but he didn't interfere. I looked out the window at the busy New Yorkers. "Maybe this place's not so bad after all," I thought, looking back down at the millionaire sucking my cock, running my fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair. 

    "We're almost there, sir," Philips said suddenly, startling me. "Should I drive around the block?"

    At first I thought he was talking to his boss. Then I realized we were almost in from of Uncle Mitch's building, and he was talking to me.

    "Yes, please do," I moaned, caught up in the pleasure Parker was giving me. His tongue kept playing with the tip of my cock and I was getting ready to explode any second.

    "Fuck, fuck," I started to get more and more verbal, as Parker's head bopped up and down in my lap. He could tell I was about to cum, and seemed keep to take my load. His hand jerked me off rapidly, as he sucked the head of my dick.

    "Oh, fuck. FUCK!" I screamed, louder than the cars honking in the street. My dick started to erupt, cum shooting out of it, cum that Parker obediently swallowed without missing a drop. "Fuuuck," I moaned, as Parker swirled his tongue around my dick in circles.

    "That was fun," he said a minute later, sitting back up and tightening his tie. He licked his lips again, and smiled at me.

    "Don't forget to drop by the office tomorrow," he sounded very matter-of-fact again. We were approaching Uncle Mitch's building again. "I'll tell my secretary to get you a phone and save my number in it."

    "Thank you," I said as the car pulled over. 

    I smiled, not knowing what else to say. So leaned forward and gave Parker another kiss, biting his lower lip gently.

    "Thanks," I whispered again, "for everything."

    "Get outta here," he said jokingly, yet sounding like a stern father at the same time. "I'll see you soon."

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