The Therapist (boyxboy)

Chapter 5: Taster

"Give me your hands."
☆

The house looked quaint from the outside. A shade of pastel green. A usual two up two down, not uncommon in this part of town. Ben saw a push bike chained to the black iron railings outside. He wondered if it was Tully's or not. He couldn't see the guy with a regular car somehow.

He looks down at what he is wearing, still unsure whether it was still a date of sorts. His middle of the road smart jeans and tidy sweater should hopefully cover both bases. Now he was here, Ben felt like he was stepping into the unknown. Yes, the mysterious man was still a visual pull for Ben. The man still enticed Ben's fantasies and his dreams, with the aesthetics he possessed, but that was just the exterior. Tully Johnson may just be more of an intrigue than Ben could handle and very soon, they would be alone. Well...here we go...

He takes a step forward, now at the little gate heading the cobblestone path. Ben undoes the latch and walks up the slim cobbled path. He reaches the front door, raising a hand and rings the doorbell. He now steps back, waiting for a response.

The door opens a fraction, just enough for Ben to see a cat squeeze through the opening and outside before the door is eventually opened wider and Ben is graced with the sight of Tully, wearing a flowy oversized shirt and a pair of equally baggy looking trousers. "Glad you could make it Ben ...welcome." He now steps back, allowing Ben to set foot inside.

The smell of scented candles hits Ben's nostrils as soon as he enters. A strange smell, like lemons and sugar. It instantly made him feel fresh as he breathed it in. He now sees a white pair of slippers resting on the bottom of the shoe rack. "Do you want me to take my shoes off?" Ben wonders as he sees Tully has more or less the same slippers on his feet, only sky blue.

"If you don't mind. It helps maintain a silent ambience." Tully says smiling as he hands over the unworn slippers.

"A what?" Ben questions as he gets to removing his shoes and putting on the new ones. If Tully was going to speak in riddles throughout, then Ben may as well turn around and leave.

"They don't clip clop on my floorboards." Tully says laughing, to which Ben joins in, now getting what he meant. Soon Ben is brought into a room, small, light and airy and with only a scattering of cushions on the floor. "Get comfortable." Tully gestures to the floor space, with them both now taking rest on two cushions opposite each other.

Tully now sits legs crossed, looking over at Ben sitting back on his knees. "So Ben tell me, why did you decide to come here today?"

"Because you asked me to?" Ben says with a smile. Tully lets a chuckle leave his lips, but he shakes his head at the answer.

"No, there is another reason why you decided to come..." Tully says, now looking at Ben deep in the eyes. Yes there was. Of course there was. Because Ben thought the man sitting opposite him was attractive, alluring, sexy and now a mystery and Ben had enjoyed many private shower sessions thinking about him. Should he actually tell him that? ".. That's the point of this Ben. To figure yourself out, why you are here. To know yourself better and go get what you want from life."

Ben just nods. He would never tell the attractive Tully how he felt. The chances that the man was a lover of other men was still hard to fathom. He could never tell and had made a fool of himself too many times in the past.

"So, what does this involve exactly?" Ben wonders as he sees Tully shuffle a little closer to opposite where Ben was sitting, their knees nearly touching as Ben now changes his sitting position to crossed legs to match Tully's.

"Give me your hands." Tully requests as he holds out his attractive fingers, beckoning Ben to bring his own hands forward.

Ben felt like it was his birthday as he raises his own hands, reaches out to hold Tully's waiting ones. He wraps his own fingers around the ring adorned palms as if they were going to sing the nursery rhyme 'row row row your boat'.

Tully looks at their connected hands, he smiles before retracting from the hold, only to turn Ben's hands over, so he can see the palms. "I want to read your palms." He says, as now, Ben's hands are upturned, open and facing the ceiling. Tully holds each hand up a fraction in his own hands before running the pad of his thumb over the creases and lines of the skin.

Ben wants to pull his hands away, if not for anything more than the sensitive tickle it was creating. But he resists. This was his little taste of personal heaven. To have the hands of this man touching him, even if it were on such an innocent and unassuming level.

Ben now realised that he wanted so much more than just a taste from these taster sessions...