Baby Doll Ch. 10

"How's Ryan and Sarah?" Sarah was Ryan's girlfriend.

It was another restless night, but he was so happy when Rebecca's gentle little voice danced in his ear from his cell phone. "They're fine, but a little worried about you." There was a pause. "Hey, are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

He wasn't fine. For the past few weeks, Cliff had been spending his evenings having little "outings" with the creepazoid known as Eric. They even exchanged phone numbers. His parents were starting to think he had gone crazy. Jessa was pissed at him, but still on speaking terms. The worst thing about the situation, though, was when Eric would touch him.

Sometimes he'd hold Cliff's hand for a moment. Sometimes he'd quickly pat his butt like an old spouse. Sometimes he'd put a kiss on his cheek. And every time one of those weird moments happened, Cliff would act embarrassed, as he was, but he'd try to put in some false interest.

It wasn't that the idea of being that way with a man was disgusting. Cliff didn't see anything wrong with the idea at all, far from it. He didn't even think taking a cock up the ass seemed like a bad idea. Cliff even had a secret dildo hidden in his bedroom, although he was grateful that Rebecca didn't find it. He didn't want to bring that up just yet.

He just ... hated Eric. Loathed him. Despised him. He wanted Eric's blood in the dirt of the wilderness. It was too bad that the snob preferred being in public places. The closest thing to wilderness that Cliff was able to get him to was a public park ... with lots and lots of people around. If things kept up like this, Cliff just might end up having a real, undead cock in his ass, and he wasn't feeling right about that.

Rebecca's voice was very suspicious. "Do you have any idea what he expects of you?"

Cliff fell back onto his bed, his phone practically glued to his ear. A lamp's yellow light was giving him a bit of a headache. He snuffled close to it and dimmed the light to something less intense with two clicks of a switch.

"I think I got a pretty good idea of what's on his mind," Cliff said with a scowl.

"I ... I just can't believe you'd put yourself in that situation. What happens if he gets aggressive? You know what I mean."

He didn't want to talk about it. "Don't worry about it, Baby. I can handle myself. I just want to think about you tonight. Where are you?" He was already searching his nightstand for a little bit of lube and some tissues.

"I'm in my room." Her voice lowered. She caught on quickly. "I just took a shower. I'm so lonely, you know? I haven't left this building since I first walked in."

"I'm sorry, Sweetheart. Why don't you turn on some music? You might feel better."

A happy little giggle, then Rebecca murmured, "You think so? Let me see if I can find some Death Metal."

A few minutes later and Cliff was able to vaguely hear some very angry music, but it was quiet enough on his end to be able to ignore it. "I hope that's not too loud. Let me check," Rebecca said worriedly. Cliff heard her close a door, open it, and then close it again. "Okay, I checked. With the door closed, it's pretty quiet." Footsteps, and then she said, "I'm on the bed now."

He liked that idea. The fingers of his free hand idly scratched at his belly. He wasn't wearing anything other than a pair of black briefs. "So you were in the shower?"

"Yeah, but I'm so cold now." She had that fake sad tone that he liked. "I don't think my robe can keep me warm."

"I bet your hair's wet." His hand was making rather aggressive motions against his crotch.

"Yep! I don't use hairdryers."

Cliff pulled his underwear down with a light groan. He kicked the cotton briefs away. "You could use a kiss."

Her breath was already fizzling in his ear. "Hnnn ... I love your kisses!"

"I love the way your tongue feels." The muscles of his cock were already hardening.

She was panting. "Cliff ... Cliff ... I'm already touching myself!"

Hot damn! She was dying for it!

Michael loved it. He wanted Cliff to get in the truck and drive on over to Ryan's house.

He put the phone down long enough to get a dab of lube. He was more eager to get his phone back to his ear than he was to touch himself. "Yeah, Baby? You rubbing yourself for me?"

"Hnnnnnn ... ngh!"

His dick twitched at the sweet little noises she made. He squeezed his fist around his shaft and moaned out a hungry sound.

"Cliff! Cliff! I want you to fuck me right now!"

Michael whined at that.

"God damn! You want my dick?"

"Yes! Oh please! My fingers aren't enough, Cliff! They're too small! I need you!"

Fire was already swelling in his balls. His cock was needy, urgent, and it hurt to breathe. His hand moved so fast he thought he might hurt himself. "Rub your clit, Sweetheart. Go on, I love that little clit. If you don't be nice to it you'll hurt my feelings." He heard a little squeal, and then a pleased groan. "That's it, just like that. I want you to move your fingers, nice and slow, all around that little thing."

He reached down to pet and tug at his testicles, and he licked his lips at the slight pain he got from it. He imagined he was right next to her, watching her fingers rotate around her clit. "Are you doing it, Baby? Just the way I said?"

"Yeeeeeeesssss." The way she stretched out the word had his cock pulsing in his hand.

Michael was howling.

"That's my good girl. Now faster." Rebecca made sharp little noises. He loved it, but he wanted more. "Come on, Faster!" His hips were jerking off of the bed. "Oh god, come on!" His balls were almost dying from the pressure.

And then Rebecca's voice wailed out, "I'm cumming! I'm cumming for you!" When that happened, he was almost there ...

Then he heard something ... a car was coming.

He smelled something earthy and perfumed ... Eric!

Shit!

"I got to go. Bye." He didn't care if her feelings were hurt. This was an emergency. He hung up and made sure to delete his call history, even though Rebecca's number in his contacts was labeled as, "Ashley." It didn't matter that Cliff had his phone locked with a password. It didn't even matter that Eric had shown no signs of even glancing at his phone. He wanted to be absolutely certain that he wasn't giving that cocky mosquito any hints to Rebecca's location.

Cliff hurried to wipe the lube away and tuck himself into his underwear.

He paused. He had never given Eric his address. The sicko must have figured it out on his own. He decided against asking him about it.

A knock on the door.

Cliff took a pair of jeans that were hanging on the front panel of the bed. As he jumped into them, he heard that knocking again. He pulled a drawer open and pinched up the first T-Shirt he saw. Another knock. He couldn't pretend he wasn't home. His truck was in the yard. He made do with bare feet and walked out of the bedroom, through the kitchen, through the living room, and to the front door, which he opened quickly.

Yep. It was Eric, coated in shadows.

"Oh please," he crooned, "please let me in."

What the hell? Cliff flipped a switch. The living room almost exploded with light. When his eyes stopped hurting, he saw Eric more clearly. There were splotches of pink under his eyes, and overall he seemed deflated. Even his shoulders seemed less impressive. He was downright sulking. His hair was tousled. He smelled like he slept in his clothes, looked like it too, not that it was a bad thing. Cliff had done that a few times in his life.

"What's going on, Eric?" Cliff didn't move from his spot at the doorway.

"I can't find her!" He put a hand against the doorway to support himself. His eyes were low. "I don't know where she is! I should have found her by now!"

"You mean Rebecca?" Cliff sighed and stepped back. "Come on in, Man. You want some lemonade?"

Eric stared up at him with watery eyes. They reminded Cliff of little blue kiddie pools. "I'll have some lemonade, I guess." His voice had a childish quality to it, like when a kid is pouting and you offer him some McDonald's, and even though he got a bit of happiness he still wants to sit there and be sad.

As Eric planted his butt on the sofa, Cliff turned on a lamp and then turned off the ceiling light. It was easier to concentrate when there was still a bit of darkness in the room. Then he went to the kitchen to pour his guest a glass of lemonade.

"Was it made from real lemons?" Eric asked.

Cliff ground his teeth together. Then he took a breath. "Sorry, it's made from a powder."

"Is it sweet?"

"Nobody around here likes sour lemonade!" He almost lost his temper.

Eric made a judgmental huff of a sound with his nose and throat. "It'll have to do."

What a snooty piece of shit!

Cliff sat down beside him on the sofa and handed him the cold glass. Then he put a folded square of a paper towel on the coffee table; it was meant to be a makeshift coaster.

Eric chugged the entire glass down. He didn't even stop to breathe. He emptied the glass and slammed it onto the paper towel. A long exhale hissed out from him like he was a machine.

"You uh ... you want another glass?"

"Cliff!" Eric's hands went to Cliff's shoulders.

"Hey, what's the deal?!" Cliff tried to get away, but then ...

But then Eric took advantage of the fact that his mouth was open.

Eric was sucking Cliff's tongue into his mouth, running his hands up and down Cliff's sides.

Oh crap.

OH CRAP!!

Michael really wanted to snap his teeth at the man.

No! Calm down! Calm the fuck down!

Pretend for a minute that Eric wasn't a piece of garbage.

Well, at least Michael admitted that he didn't taste so bad. Downright pleasant, actually. He tasted like lemonade, expensive food and something that was almost taboo.

And his stupid, disloyal cock betrayed him by twitching and heating up again. Cliff had hoped that this would be more difficult.

Then he was pushed back onto the seats of the sofa.

Eric's graceful fingers had no trouble unbuttoning his jeans, and then pulling the zipper down in a quick jolt of a noise. Cliff closed his eyes and tried a queasy rebuttal, pulling his mouth away from him. "Uh, look, I've never done this before. I don't know."

Eric just started down at him with lowered eyelids and a slightly open mouth. One of his arms was on the back of the sofa. Cliff hoped he was uncomfortable.

"You're tensing up, Cliff. That's no good." Eric was teasing him, smiling at him, with those stupid white teeth that Cliff decided were the eeriest teeth in the world. He must have paid a dentist a shit-ton to get teeth that perfect.

"Cliff," Eric said, rubbing his palm up and down Cliff's crotch like it was the most normal thing in the world, "why don't you let me make you feel good? I'd love to taste you."

"I don't know, Man!" Cliff tried to sit up.

"Hm?" Eric's voice was thoughtful. "You look excited. Were you thinking of Rebecca?"

Cliff couldn't hide the culpable, dismayed look on his face. He gulped down a knot of concern.

Eric's face didn't have the pinkness around the eyes anymore, but his cheeks were turning pink. Even his mouth looked rosier. "It's fine, Sweetie. I was thinking of her an hour ago."

Did Eric just call him Sweetie?! Fucking Sweetie?!

Michael almost thought it was funny.

"Please don't call me Sweetie." Cliff demanded it with absolute seriousness.

Eric had already pulled down his underwear. "Fine then, you're Honey."

Cliff gave a tiny shrug. It was better than Sweetie.

Then there was the wet, hot seal of that man's mouth on his cock.

Cliff grit his teeth and hissed out a few curse words. He shut his eyes, unwilling to watch this man he absolutely hated do something he really liked, something even Michael liked. Up and down, tight, almost like a really good pussy, Eric's mouth was taking in more of his cock than Rebecca ever had, not that he suddenly thought Rebecca was inferior or anything.

Eric's arms went to Cliff's thighs to support his body between his new lover's legs, and he really, really went to town. His tongue whirled about and Cliff's toes clamped down.

"Hnnnngh!"

Eric popped his mouth off of him. Then he whispered, giving Cliff's testicles a quick squeeze, "Have you licked Rebecca's pussy yet?"

An image of Rebecca's black pubic hair and flushing labia flashed through Cliff's brain, and then there was the memory of her scent, her delicious arousal. "God, Man! Why are you bringing that up now?"

"Because I'd like to know," Eric replied hoarsely, moving up and stepping off of the couch. He then knelt down beside Cliff, licked his own lips, and bent over his crotch. He ran his tongue up and down the shaft, then to the head, and then to the hole at the tip. "She tastes so good, soooooo good." The crazy blond chuckled. Then he reached down and oh so lovingly massaged Cliff's testicles.

Cliff was twitching, groaning, and wishing that Michael would be less willing to agree with him. This felt way too damn good. Part of him was afraid that Eric was going to bite his dick off, but holy hell, even that sort of turned him on, that little bit of fear blending with his arousal, making every touch a surprise.

"I'd love to know how well cared for she was. I'd hate for her to go on without a nice man to lick and suck her pretty little clit."

Did Eric really just say that, or was it Cliff's wild imagination? He stared at the blond.

Eric was totally serious, breathing heavily, but serious. "Do you think I'm angry at you? Of course not, Honey. I'm glad you took good care of her. So why don't you let me take good care of you?"

And his head lowered. Those pink lips pressed over his dick again.

Cliff was starting to thrust himself up into him, beyond caring how much he hated him. There was humming, delicious quivering in his flesh from Eric's throat. He wanted to say it felt good, but he only moaned.

And then he could barely thrust at all, as his balls emptied out in an alarming rush of pleasure, and then he began to soften a little.

He put his hands over his burning face. He felt Eric's mouth slip away. Then, to Cliff's amazement, he heard a gulping sound, and then he felt that tongue again.

He peeked through his fingers.

The man had apparently swallowed most of the semen, and he was licking the rest away!

"You're a pretty color, Cliff." Eric smiled. "You seem to have good genes." He smelled two kinds of musky, Cliff's arousal slathered on top of Eric's. "Races need to mix more."

Cliff couldn't figure out if that was a racist statement or not, but something about the way he said it gave him a second of unease, like Eric had something sneaky in his brain involving Cliff's mysterious bloodline. What if this psycho actually knew what race, or mixture of, his grandparents were, even though they didn't even know themselves?

He moved away from the blond, getting to his feet and pulling his underwear back on. "You're ... uh ... really nice, Eric." He zipped his jeans up with trembling hands. He had to make a few attempts to properly push the button into its hole. "Did you want ... something ... you know?" Cliff's hand fluttered uselessly about before him as he tried to figure out what the correct thing to say was.

Eric slid up to his feet and licked at his fingertips. "Have you ever had a cock in you, Honey?"

Too sensitive to even suggest something like that, Cliff kicked at nothing and said, "Aw Geez! No! Just ah ... oh." He stopped himself; his mouth dried out a little.

He knew Eric caught that, because the blond parasite's pretty eyes flared with delight. "You have a toy, don't you?"

Aw hell naw!

"I don't like the look on your face, Dude." Cliff was hoping he'd make it out of this situation without any nightmares.

A well groomed hand waved before Cliff. It reeked of Cliff's balls. "Show it to me," Eric ordered, sounding like an intrigued king.

Well, what was he going to do, say no and piss him off?

Cliff stared down at his toes as he walked over to his bedroom and stood at a dresser. Eric followed with precise footsteps.

"Come on, Honey," Eric goaded with a soft voice. He nudged Cliff's arm with an insistent palm. Cliff thought of a car moving forward an inch at a frightened pedestrian.

Twitching a little, Cliff pulled the drawer open and revealed a hidden object under a thick stack of underwear. It had a tiny handle at one end, and it was almost offensively pink.

"It's adorable, Cliff! Let me play with it, please?"

Just what in the world was he going to do with it? Cliff wiped a bit of sweat away with the back of his hand. "I guess so? I mean, do you want to use it for something?"

Eric snatched the pink dildo up and slipped past Cliff to pick up the bottle of lube that had been carelessly left on the nightstand. Eric put the two objects on the bed, and to Cliff's relief, he was the one peeling his pants away and kicking off his shoes. Cliff's backside just might get a freebie.

"Does Rebecca know about your little toy?" Eric asked with a crooked smile as he kicked his silky boxers away. The dude was circumcised. Cliff hated him so much that he decided to mentally insult him over something as stupid as that. Michael wasn't laughing at the insults, but he was seething.

He was also pretty sure that Eric's dick was somewhat bigger than his.

Well of course it was! Why wouldn't it be?!

Blegh.

Eric was squeezing out some lube onto the dildo, and then his penis, when Cliff answered, " I didn't tell her. I didn't know how to bring it up." He stepped away from the bed, his backside bumping into the dresser.

"You didn't need to be shy. Rebecca's a fun little girl," Eric said, winking and bending one of his legs.

"I know she's into weird stuff, but it still ain't something I like to talk about." Cliff started at his own fingernails. He had recently cut them.

"Honey, I'd love some help here." There was a slight restlessness in Eric's pitch.

Cliff was trying not to breathe in too much of his asshole, but he was worried that he wouldn't have a choice soon. "What do you want me to do?"

"Put this pretty little thing in my ass so I can do the hard work."

Nope. Cliff wasn't going to have a choice. His teeth were grinding. His nose was twitching. "Well, alright." He took a seat on the mattress near the blond. The view wasn't necessarily bad. Eric was clean, strong, and he looked ready to have his fun, his fingers waiting expectantly for Cliff to take control of the dildo, so they could latch onto his eager dick.

As Cliff's hand latched onto the handle, his skin brushed against the other man, and through the hatred, Cliff experienced a small bit of sexual empathy, a temporary bit of sexual empathy. When this was over, Cliff knew the empathy would evaporate like water in a hot frying pan.

Eric was about to have a nice time.

"Slowly now, slowly."

He didn't have to tell Cliff that. He was being very careful. The man's anus was tight at first, but as Eric stroked himself, and as Cliff tried to resist the urge to slam the object in there without a care for the man's comfort, that little asshole stretched just right.

And the blond man murmured out something Cliff couldn't really understand. It sounded kind of European. Michael was admitting that Eric sounded nice. Cliff was trying to keep up a pace with the dildo that would satisfy the man's occasional demand.

"Faster, faster! Now slower! Hmmm ... just like that."

One of Eric's hands was tugging on his balls while the other was nearly a blur on his cock. There were squishing sounds and Cliff was trying not to feel embarrassed at them.

Soon, to Cliff's relief, and mild shame, Eric was convulsing, his cock spitting out hot semen, and he cried out, "Ah! Honey!"

Cliff was afraid to take the dildo out. He didn't want to lay it down on anything. He wanted to boil it. Michael wanted to burn it. Eventually, though, he thought it was best to take it out. Eric whimpered a little as he slid the toy out of his anus.