Date: Wed, 4 Apr 2012 12:22:57 -0400 From: John Marshall Subject: The Working Boys Chapter 17 In trying to avoid the most common plot scenarios featured on Nifty, this story takes the form of a series of interviews with some beautiful young Boy prostitutes and their parents. It's unorthodox but quite seductive, as are the boys. Like my other story, Ecstasy Isle, this one is also written in third person and proceeds in something close to real time with extensive dialogue to carry the story along and intense character development. Once more, it is extremely orgasmic with all ejaculating dialogue written in UPPER CASE. If you do not wish to be exposed to such material as described, leave now. If you are too young for this sort of thing, leave now. If reading this causes you to break the law where you live, leave now. Otherwise, take the time now to get naked and get your cock hard, start strokin' it. Jack yourself off and see if you can time your own blasts of naked sexual pleasure with those of the people in the book. This one averages about four to six orgasms per chapter. For that reason, I don't recommend reading more than one chapter at a time. Any more than that might be hazardous to your sexual health...especially your hard, throbbing cock. THE WORKING BOYS CHAPTER 17 "Well, how was he last night," Derek asked Zac as the movie star joined him for breakfast the next morning. "INCREDIBLE," both Zac and Tiffany, who Derek had not noticed behind her father, both replied in unison. Derek fixed them both with a stare of disbelief. "Whoa...!" Father and daughter looked at one another in dismap, "Oops..." The three ate their scrambled eggs and sausage patties in silence for nearly a full minute. "I entrusted him to YOU," Derek finally broke the silence, addressing Zac, his voice cold and hard. "I didn't know you were gonna make him service the BOTH of you." "Service is such a...a harsh word," Zac tried to placate the man. "Yes, isn't it?" Derek would have none of it, "but wholly accurate, under the circumstances," he glared at them both. "Derek, Listen, Ronon is..." Zac began. "NO, YOU listen!" Derek reacted angrily, "I know what you're going to say, Ronon is a professional...he fucks for bucks." Derek didn't mince words despite the presence of a young girl at the table. "Derek, I was just going to say...he's a young boy, he..." Zac tried to continue. "Yes, isn't he?" Derek retorted, "a sweet, lovable, little eleven-year-old boy who doesn't always know what's good for him and whom both of you apparently both took advantage of last night. How many times did he fuck you two?" "We didn't take advantage of him, he wanted to..." Tiffany chimed in, not so much defending her father as herself. "Listen, Tiffany, I don't really blame you for this, your relationship, you and Ronon, while perhaps not altogether 'healthy' is still relatively harmless," Derek went on. Then turning his wrath of her father, "...I TRUSTED you...I gave you a beautiful, naked young boy to...to make love to last night, to...to enjoy...and you...you treated him like a...a FUCKING machine!" "Ohhh, like YOU'RE completely innocent in all this Mr. Holier-Than-Thou, pimpin' for the kid while fuckin' the shit outta him on the side," Zac suddenly turned indignant. "Not quite," Derek defended himself, "Yes, I'll admit, I love the little boy with all my heart, and I've MADE love to him a few times, but...fuckin' the shit outta him? First of all, I've NEVER fucked him and second, when we make love, yes it's sex, wonderful sex, but first and foremost it's LOVE, his sexual pleasure coming well before my own, and never...never to the point of ABUSING him sexually, never making him do anything he doesn't WANT to do." "We didn't make him do anything he didn't WANT to do either," Tiffany insisted. "When Ronon said, no, we...we respected that, in fact, he went off to sleep while we..." "I see..." Derek stood up from the table, wiping his mouth with his napkin, not totally surprised by Tiffany's inadvertant admission so much as relieved somewhat that Ronon had known "when to say when." "Derek, we didn't abuse the boy," Zac insisted, standing as well, trying to calm their tablemate, "Yes, we both...had sex with Ronon a time or two...but not some kind of...of endless orgy you seem to be imagining." Derek calmed somewhat, taking a deep breath, "Well...at least you respected his...his limits, still I'm having grave second thoughts about this whole...arrangment here with Ronon." "Hi, guys, what's up?" Ronon asked as he approached from behind Derek with his own tray laden with enough food to serve a small bordello. Derek turned, expecting to survey the damage. Instead, the image that met his tired eyes was one of a smiling little boy clad in his tiny red Speedo, thongs, and a cut-off t-shirt. "We gonna go swimming again today?" "Ronon...I..." Derek was momentarily stunned as well as pleased by the boy's sunny disposition and appearance, "I don't know, that's not up to me." "Well, looks like our young friend here is none the worse for wear," Zac noted, smiling, not unaware of the impression Ronon had made on them all by his fresh, wholesome appearance. "However, unfortunately, we have to start back to Nassau in just a few minutes, soon as Darin checks on that little electrical problem from last night some more. I know it's Sunday but Darin, Derek, and I have some financial arrangements to get settled, a friend of mine at Barclay's is meeting us at the bank and..." "Actually, I think Ronon should come along too, won't he have some papers to sign?" Derek questioned, eyeing the boy in amusement as Ronon gobbled down his sausage, eggs, and toast with all the gusto of paper shredder. "I...I think that would be an excellent idea," Zac conceded, not wanting to further antagonize the boy's agent thereby perhaps wrecking their little deal, "once he's filled that hollow leg and maybe changed into something not quite so...enticing." "I'll have him decked out in shirt and tie and tux and tails," Derek smiled down at the hungry little boy, "as soon as he's had seconds...maybe thirds." Zac laughed, "Feeding this little fucker is gonna have us ALL broke before he turns twelve. Now, Derek, I think we have some terms to discuss." Both men retired to the main salon somewhat amiably, if not quite friends. "Derek really cares for you, doesn't he?" Tiffany observed softly as the adults left the table. Ronon shrugged. "I guess," he allowed, between mouthfuls of eggs." "I never saw anyone take on my dad the way he did a little while ago," Tiffany cast a glance toward the main salon to make sure her father was out of ear shot. "He was worried we may have...taken advantage of you last night." "I've heard that lecture too," Ronon related, "Seven times in one night is too much sex..." "SEVEN TIMES?" Tiffany gasped. "The Friday Night Fights with Mike," Ronon explained minimally. "He made you cum SEVEN TIMES?!" "That's a conservative estimate," Ronon giggled between bites. "No wonder he was upset," Tiffany understood. "SEVEN TIMES! My cunt would be so sore I'd never the the same again." Ronon smiled wryly, "Yes, well, my cock's cast iron, nickle plated, with a coat of Teflon." "Your cock is the most incredible...most incredible cock I've ever fucked," Tiffany praised Ronon's pleasure prong profusely. "How many cocks you ever fucked?" Ronon asked in amusement, finishing his OJ. "Well, counting dad's last night, nine...no, TEN, I forgot Benny." Tiffany told him proudly. "TEN!" Ronon nearly choked on his last morsel of toast. "When did you start, when you were six months old?" "Nine..." Tiffany smiled at Ronon's surprise and disbelief, "Years, not months." "Benny?" "He was eight, I was nine, I sneaked into his bedroom, him and his dad were...his dad was having this thing with mom...so I had this...'thing' with Benny, I sucked him and got him hard then showed him how to...to pop my cherry." Tiffany did a little giggling too, almost imitating Ronon's characteristic sound. "What's that mean," Ronon asked innocently. Tiffany stared at him in wide-eyed disbelief. "Pop my cherry...you don't know what 'pop my cherry' means?" "No," Ronon admitted shyly, somewhat embarrassed by his own ignorance. Once more Tiffany looked around, making sure the two of them were alone. "Popping a girls 'cherry' means when I guy sticks his cock in a girl's cunt who's never been fucked before and breaks her hymen." "What's a hymen?" Tiffany paused in dismay, then continued, "it's what separates a virgin from a slut," she explained a bit bluntly. "You're a slut?" Ronon smiled at her broadly. "You have to ask?" "No," Ronon admitted, "how stupid of me." "Actually it's a thin membrane which stretches over a girl's cunt that has to be torn open by a guy's cock the first time she gets fucked." "Don't that hurt?" Ronon reasoned. "A little," Tiffany admitted. "Okay it hurts like hell the first time but...I've found it to have been worth the pain over the long run." "I like it when we fuck," Ronon smiled, the head of his hardening boy-cock peeking up over the top of his tiny bikini. "Me too," Tiffany smiled back. "You fuck good." "So do you," Ronon returned the compliment. "I never fucked a girl my own age until you," he confessed. "I was a virgin." "Your own age?" Tiffany immediately picked up on the implication of Ronon's words. "Older women like my cock too," he pronounced. "How old?" Tiffany demanded. "Old..." Ronon told her, "well...not REAL old, but...pretty old...you know, not OLD old...25, or 30 maybe." "That's pretty old," Tiffany admitted, trying to picture Ronon's slender little boy-body sandwiched between the heaving thighs, riding the cunt of an older woman as they fucked. The Atlantis limo was waiting for them at the pier as soon as the "Zee Ray" docked. It was almost noon on a bright Sunday morning; the sun warm but not hot. "Why was I under the impression this deal was just between Darin and Ronon...well, and his mother, of course?" Derek asked as he and Ronon sat facing Darin and Zac in the back of the sumptuous black vehicle. "Well, essentially, it is," Zac explained, "I'm just sort of serving as a...facilitator. Mr. Landry of Barclay's is a personal friend of mine, he's doing us a favor meeting us when the bank is closed to set up the trust account for Ronon that we talked about this morning." "What's a trust account?" Ronon asked. "Do you want to tell him or should I?" Zac asked Derek. "Ronon, it's kind of like your own personal bank account," Derek began. "Of course, you're too young to have a regular bank account so you need someone to...to stand in for you...an adult to, sort of, 'be' you." "Who's that gonna be, my mom?" Ronon asked. "Do you really want to give your mom a check for $100,000?" Derek asked. Ronon was silent for a long moment. "No," he replied after some tortured thought. "She'd spend it all on Devon," he giggled. "Who's Devon?" Zac asked. "His mother's twelve-year-old boyfriend," Derek sighed is obvious agreement with Ronon's verdict. "And my best friend," Ronon found it needful to defend the boy. "Ronon, Derek has agreed to stand in as your account guardian," Darin explained to the boy. "Technically, it'll be your money, but he'll be the one to oversee the account." "Actually, the whole arrangement was his idea," Zac added. "We'll be working with Mr. Landry at the bank," Derek continued, "Darin will transfer the funds from his own account at the bank to yours. We'll make arrangements for the account to send your mother a check for one thousand dollars a month to help defray her...expenses...leaving your account with over $80,000 to accrue and garner interest." "Cool, sounds like Devon should make out pretty good anyway," Ronon laughed, "a thousand a month..." "Yes, well, whatever the case, Doreen's gonna SHIT when I have to tell HER all this," Derek sighed, not at all looking forward to the confrontation. "Why not just send her an e-mail," Darin suggested, "then change your place of abode, of course." "While you're making over EIGHT thousand a month, all expenses paid, playing boy toy for your new nautical friends here," Derek added, a slight note of disgust in his voice, not just for them but for his OWN role in the arrangement. "Fuckin' for bucks, right?" Ronon giggled. "Yes, well, maybe you'd better not use those exact word as we talk to Mr. Landry at the bank," Zac worried. "In fact, maybe you'd better keep your sweet little mouth..." "Ronon, this deal is probably illegal in just about every country on earth if the true facts were known...we're passing it off as an 'entertainment' contract..." Derek further explained. "I'm and ENTERTAINER?" Ronon cried happily. "Ohhhhh yes, and HOW!" Darin laughed, patting the boy on the knee. "My production company is fronting for the whole deal," Zac added. "And if you're a GOOD entertainer, Ronon, your contract will likely be renewed again next year with a significant increase in pay and maybe some signing bonuses," Darin promised. "What's a signing bonus?" Ronon wanted to know. "Well, this time, the signing bonus was a brand new car for your mom," Darin told him, "a pretty bright blue BMW to drive around town for free." "That oughta impress the fuck outta Devon," Ronon giggled. "No doubt," Derek rolled his eyes, having come to know both of them intimately. Asside from having made Ronon a relatively wealthy young man, the hour-long meeting at Barclay's was, in Ronon's eyes, rather boring and anticlimactic. He'd signed his childish scrawl a couple times on a couple pieces of paper he'd not had any inclination whatsoever to read, they'd shaken hands and he'd had his pretty little head patted more often than he liked. Then they all climbed back into the limo heading back to the boat with a side trip to the Nassau airport where Derek got out, a first class ticket to Miami in hand. Despite the crowd at the curb, Derek kissed Ronon goodbye, his lips lingering, lovingly, longingly on the boy's, just the hint of moistness in both their eyes, both wondering how long it would be before they saw one another again. Derek checked in at the flight kiosk, obtaining his boarding pass. Having no baggage and only a small carry-on, security was a breeze. Already he was missing Ronon. He needed a drink. His flight didn't leave for more than an hour. He headed for the first class lounge, thanking Zac in his mind for the man's generosity. He wasn't accustomed to flying first class. It was mid-afternoon, the place was packed, the bar humming. He spotted an empty seat at a table occupied by an attractive man about his own age and an even MORE attractive young boy who appeared even younger than Ronon. "May I join you, there doesn't seem to be any seats available elsewhere, I hate to impose." The man looked up from his martini and appraised Derek critically. His face brightened."Of course, this place is a madhouse this time of day, "My name's Colton, this is my son, Kevin." "Colton, Kevin, my name's Derek Chandler," Derek introduced himself. "Of course, I thought I recognized you...you write for the Gay Blade, right?" Colton rose and extended his hand just as Derek was about to sit down. "I read your column often...I don't often agree with you but..." "What's the Gay Blade?" young Kevin asked, looking from first one man to another for an answer. "Son, the Gay Blade is probably the most highly respected...uhhh...gay...err...homosexual...publication...well, in the U.S. anyway." "Cool, I'm gay," the boy suddenly blurted, "I like reading gay stuff." "Ohhh, son, you are not...forgodsakes, kid, you're only NINE!" the boy's father mildy rebuked him. "Kids today, they like to shock their elders...and mine's about as shocking as they come." "I'm too young to cum," Kevin smilingly told his father. "Kevin..." Colton laughed, embarrassed. "You remind me of myself when I was your age, Kevin," Derek told the smiling, blond-headed young boy, "...and of a certain young man about your age I just parked here in the islands a short time ago. "Your son?" Colton questioned. "I wish...no...the son of a...friend of mine," Derek elaborated, pausing to order a gin and tonic from a waiter passing by. "His name is Ronon, he's eleven...loves to make smart-assed comments just like you. Embarrasses the shit outta me sometimes." "Kevin's been doing that since he learned to talk." Colton eyed the boy lovingly. "We're waiting for them to correct some kind of electrical problem on the company jet, then we're going to the mainland for a little...father-son bonding, I guess you'd say, right Kevin? "Where to, Miami?" Derek guessed. "Well, we'll fly there then take a chopper to this little seaside resort you've probably never hear of, Benton Beach." Colton went on. Derek nearly choked on his drink. "You kidding, I LIVE in Benton Beach, the Blade has an office there. You own a place there?" "No, actually, we're kind of borrowing a house there for a week or so, a little secluded place on the beach, kind of remote, you may know the owners, though," Colton continued, "Frank and Jack Williams?" "Know them? I practically grew up worshipping Frank, the pianist," Derek said, trying to control his surprise. "They gay?" Kevin demanded over his watered-down Coke. "Isn't everyone in Benton Beach?" Derek was somewhat amazed at the child's insights. This kid had been around. "Frank's playing at one of our resorts...Barbados, I think," Colton explained. "You familiar with his place, it's not some kind of DUMP is it?" "Dump, no, quite the contrary, in fact, I've been there, visited it not long ago..." Derek told them. "You might have to evict a couple OTHER friends of Jack and Frank but..." "Evict them?" Colton's face darkened. "I'll tell you what, when I get back tomorrow, I'll handle it for you, their friends...okay acquaintenances of mine," Derek offered. "The place is quite nice, like you said, right on the beach, rather secluded, you'll love it. You're choppering in?" "Yes, I hate commuting, I'd have brought the boat but Kevin's mother here is rather fond of it so..." Colton once more eyed the boy. "Divorced?" Derek guessed. "Divorced? Oh, no, nothing like that...god no, I don't want to even THINK about that," Colton recoiled in horror as Kevin found the idea amusing for some reason. "It's a family thing...way to complicated to explain." "What kind of shit do you write?" Kevin asked during the ensuing lull. "Human interest, gay pride, politics sometimes, interpersonal stuff, that sort of thing," Derek informed the very beautiful young boy. "You gay?" Kevin blurted. "Why, yes, I am," Derek replied, surprised that the boy should need to ask, under the circumstances. "He's trying some 'shock and awe' just ignore it," Colton noted. "Kevin, Derek isn't likely to be shocked or awed by anything you say or do." "Why don't you fly back with us, we could all get naked and have some fun in the back of the plane," Kevin suggested. "I guess I was wrong," Colton admitted, casting a bemused dirty look at his son. "I think that would be a superb idea, Kevin," Derek accepted, doubling down on the boy, "Are you into sucking cocks yet?" This time it was Derek whom Colton eyed in disapproval. "I know, he had that coming but..." "I'm sorry, that was way out of line," Derek immediately appologized to both man and boy. "But Kevin does have an excellent idea, why DON'T you fly back with us, all the way to Benton Beach even, give us a hand with the 'squatters,' you know..." Colton brightened, accepting Derek's appology at face value. "Well...I guess I could cash in my ticket." Derek took it from his pocket, eyeing the fare. "I could use the money, writers don't get paid much, you know," he smiled down at the young boy thankfully. "And I promise, I won't molest you in the back of the plane on the way back." "Damn..." Kevin pretended dispair at Derek's promise. "But I'd better hurry, my flight leaves in about an hour," Derek checked his watch. "You can leave your bag here; unless I miss my guess, we won't be going anywhere for at least that long," Colton told him, "We'll be glad to have someone to talk to on the way over." "Okay, you sure you don't mind," Derek asked as he downed his drink and stood to hurry off, "having a hitchhiker aboard?" "No, not at all, and I promise, I'll control my son's...sexual inclinations," he smiled over at the boy who made a face, sticking out his tongue at his father. Cashing in the ticket took longer than Derek had hoped--well over an hour. In fact he was somewhat relieved to see Colton and Kevin still waiting for him in the now almost deserted lounge when he got back. "You'd think I was trying to sell them realestate on Miami Beach. Sorry for taking so long." "No problem, they just called, said the plane was ready," Colton told him a he and Kevin stood to leave. "You have a place on the beach?" "Me? Ooh...oh no, god, I wish, speaking of realestate, kind of out of my price range...just a one bedroom apartment in an almost-gentrified part of town," Derek explained as they headed for the VIP exit to the tarmac. "Is Benton Beach really as gay as they say?" Colton questioned as they continued, Kevin carrying Derek's bag. "Not totally, but it's kind of THE place to be if you're gay, got a ton of cash, and want to hide away from the rest of the world in spending it," Derek explained. "IS THAT IT?" he gasped as they headed for a big, silvery 727 parked not far away with the name "COX" emblazened on the tail. "It was dad's, couldn't bare to part with it when he died...costs a fortune to fly and maintain, starting to show its age, too, I'm afraid," Colton appologized. "It's even got a fuckin' BEDROOM in the back," Kevin gushed as he scampered up the steps toward the open door. "KEVIN!" Colton cried as the boy left them in the dust. "God, that kid needs his ass whupped sometimes." "He's a boy; boys are like that," Derek dismissed the comment, even as he found it intriguing. "Dad used to use it for business trips, flying all over the world," Colton explained. "We're gonna leave it in Miami to be refurbished, new engines, new interior, Tina's idea, she finds it rather...dowdy." "Tina's your wife?" Derek asked as the went aboard. "Oh...err...yes, I...I guess you could call her that," Colton joked, "Kevin's mother..." "You live in Nassau?" Derek inquired as Kevin deposited his bag in one of the seats of the main salon. The plane seemed outrageously roomy for just three people. "Nassau? Ohh...no, no, god, no, never in a million years," Colton laughed. "We have a private island clear out in the middle of nowhere, not even a part of the Bahamas...well, so long as Cox international can keep fighting off the Bahamian government, at least. "Have a seat, we'll be taking off soon...soon as they close the door." "Nice..." Derek seated himself comfortably, buckling in opposite Colton, across a broad aisle from Kevin. "You're kidding! The place SUCKS," Kevin observed in digust, "Mom says it was grandpa's flying MEATWAGON." "You see where he gets his MOUTH," Colton rolled his eyes as they heard the door close with a solid "clunk." "Come on, let's get this fucker in the air," Kevin pretended to be the pilot, wheel in hand, pulling back on the yoke. "So they can serve the DRINKS." "If you want a drink, you're gonna have to pour it yourself, we're traveling light tonight, just the pilot and co-pilot, no cute young stewards to embarrass the shit out of," Colton told his son as they began to move. "Damn..." Kevin retorted. "His favorite expletive now days..." Colton appologized, "...but mild compared to his mother." "Mom says 'FUCK' a lot," Kevin added as they taxied to the runway. "Kevin has grown up in a very sexually permissive environment," Colton explained, "he wasn't kidding when he said he was gay." "But he's only NINE?" Derek found that hard to believe. "Sucked my first cock when I was six," Kevin went for some more 'shock and awe'. "Really," Derek found the boy not just beautiful, but quite engaging in a kind of spoiled, sick sort of way. "And who's cock did you suck?" Kevin smirked, seeming a little surprised, yet pleased Derek should ask. "You're lookin' at him."