Date: Sat, 28 Jun 2008 10:59:55 -0700
From: Jay roberts <diplomat1501@msn.com>
Subject: "The Straight Boy Who Only Receives, Part One" by Jay Roberts

++I've made these threats so often that they are beginning to sound like I
don't mean them, but I do.  If you are under 18 and you are still here, I
will close my computer.  BUT if you are over 18, sit down, do I have a
story to tell you.


I don't know how to excuse the stupid way I am handling this-shall we say
crush-on the new server at Rene's Bistro.

I am twenty-five to his, maybe twenty, but still young enough to sting at
rejection.  It is a new thing for me.  Everyone was after me, before Bobby
came on board.  You could hear the customers calling Stevie, Stevie, and
that call also came from the bartender and the boss himself, the great chef
Rene.  I guess I was spoiled, but the attention buoyed me and I worked
hard.

Rene paid for our uniforms.  It was pure genius for him to pay attention to
that detail.  He must have known the effect it would have on any male who
had even the slightest interest in other guys.  The uniform was taken from
that of a European bellboy.  You know, super tight black pants with a high
waist that showed off one's flat-and he only hired slim guys-belly.  Of
course the rear end was featured.  The seamless back clung to the ass.  If
you were hairy, I believe the public could see it.  The uniform was topped
off by a mess jacket.  That is a short white jacket with gold epaulets.  We
turned them in each day to be washed and starched.

I'll never forget when I was hired, right out of high school.  I could see
that Rene was somewhat effeminate, but that was expected in a cook, No?
Anyway I tried on the uniform and looked into the mirror.  Yikes, I sure
looked sexy.  My dark straight hair had just been cut.  I had parted it on
the side and it shown like a silk top hat.  My young handsome face with
smooth forehead complemented the white jacket.  I used a mirror and
blushed.  Both halves of my tight ass were outlined in the thin material of
the trousers.

"You're not leaving this house in that outfit," my mother said, "Why it's
pornographic."

I laughed.  This was just too exciting.  I did feel a bit like a whore and
I wiggled my butt as I walked across town to the restaurant.

Rene's had been at the same corner for almost ten years.  It was full every
night.  This was good for tips, but best was his high prices.  Our
customers tended to be politicians and lawyers from Town Center nearby.

The menu was complicated, very French.  I had to study up on French dishes
and how to pronounce them.  Rene's opened each day, including Sundays at
eleven thirty.  At eleven, we gathered in the kitchen and Rene would
describe the day's specials and how they were prepared.  He gave wine
recommendations as well.

Rene was an attractive man, his age hard to figure, perhaps fifty.  He had
gorgeous white hair that he tinted blond.  His features were strong.  He
dressed carefully, a dark suit and straight black tie for lunch, a tux for
dinner.  In the summer, a white jacket.  He was French of course and had
the trace of his accent that added charm to his greetings.

He did greet eloquently and the customers seemed to enjoy his stop at their
table.  Sometimes he would pull up a chair and call a waiter to take the
wine away and said, "This wine is not good enough for you, my friends,
please accept my private reserve, and a second bottle to take home."

You can see his genius.  We had lines on Friday and Saturday night.  Folks
celebrated their special occasions here and Rene really sharpened his
pencil for those.

We had four waiters and two bussers.  We were able to handle the room
because we were fast and efficient.  Until Bobby came, I was the youngest.
The other two had been with Rene since he opened.  They were nice looking,
very experienced.  I was sort of a pet of Rene's and the others.  It was a
fateful day when one of the original waiters left and the new boy appeared.

Bobby was startlingly handsome with blond curls falling on his forehead.
His skin was pale but flawless.  He had large eyes, a bright blue color.
When he recommended a dish, the customers accepted it.  Male patrons stared
and wives had to call them on it.  Other waiters watched his tables and
filled in when he was slow.  He was everyone's darling.

I had a very discrete gay life.  I went on dates with girls, friends, but
managed to make a hookup or two a month.  Not too busy, huh.  It left me
somewhat horny all the time.  Now Bobby seemed to take to me because I was
near his age.  We went out for coffee a few times after closing.  Although
he was angelic looking, he was a tough kid.  In fact, he had been in
juvenile prison most of his youth.  I guess he had some sexual experience
there, but my guess was that he used these delinquents as his servants.
Bobby could be on a class act, but with me, he lapsed back into his street
accent and his talk was peppered with fuck and shit.  I found it exciting
and was mostly hiding my erection under the table.

One coffee "date" he mentioned that Rene had been hitting on him.  This was
the first time he had ever mentioned anything of a sexual nature.  He went
on to say, "He sure isn't whom I would pick to blow me, he's old, but I'm
afraid that if a refuse, I might lose the job.  What do you think?  Has he
ever come on to you?

Well, this question really had me buffaloed.  No, he hadn't ever approached
me.  I was beginning to be insulted.  At least I should have had the
pleasure of refusing.  Now here's this puppy, the belle of the ball.

"No, he hasn't.  I think maybe he might.  I've been there almost a year,
you never know," I said.

"Would you submit?"

What an odd way of putting it.  I think that his years in detentions had
trained him to use his sexuality for gain, not pleasure.  The boy had
dulled his sexuality into a cash register sensibilities.

"I might, just because he is such a nice fellow, and this is a great job."

"Oh ho, so you're gay, huh?  I wondered."

I walked into this trip.  I blushed and chugged up my coffee and ended the
evening.  This was the last time we went out together.

About a week later, on a Monday night, usually a slow night, I got so
interested in spoiling my few customers when I realized I had to pee so bad
that I was on the verge of pissing myself.  I looked around wildly for
Bobby, to tell him to watch my table.  He was not around.  I went up to
Larry, another waiter, "I have to take five, can you watch my table?"

"Sure," he said, now two of you are busy, Bobby is in the boss's office,
and he winked at me.

I took care of my pee need.  The men's room was halfway down the hall.  At
the end of the hall was Rene's office.  I tiptoed down and could see into
the room via a small space on the ill-fitting jamb.  I could see Bobby
sitting on a chair and Rene kneeling on the floor, his head in the boy's
lap.  Bobby hadn't lowered his pants, his cock was pulled through two
buttons he had opened on his pants.  He wasn't being too cooperative.  He
was also pretty blas‚ over the whole thing, puffing on a cigarette and
blowing smoke rings.

Poor Rene, his knees must have hurt.  His face was red.  While I watched,
Bobby caught sight of me and the devil winked at me, as if to say, look I
got the boss sucking me.  Rene sat up and I heard him say, "It's been a
long time.  Are you close?"

Bobby patted his head.  "Not really, but you tried.  Have to get back to my
table."

I hurried away and was back in the dinning room as Bobby came back and
began work.  Later, he passed me and whispered.  "Let's have coffee
afterward."  This was weeks since we did this.  I wondered what he had in
mind.

As soon as we sat down Bobby became very intimate in his conversation.  I
guess knowing I had seen him with his cock out made us asshole buddies.  He
began speaking a little too loudly.  "Shush," I cautioned.  He put his
finger to his lips and grinning lopsidedly.  The boy was drunk I realized.
He was probably pulling the old waiter's trick of finishing the dregs in
the bottles.  That could be enough to get one into staggering.  The drunk
state looked cute on him though and it gave me the opportunity of speaking
more openly.

"Rene wasn't the best sucker, huh"

"Naw, he has no technique.  A mouth is a mouth and I am not picky, but the
guy has to have some talent for it.  How 'bout you.  I bet you're good."

"I never had a complaint," I said boastfully.  I do think I am good and
several guys have complimented me extravagantly.  But with Bobby, no way
would I ask.

I didn't have to.  Bobby smiled broadly, oh those white teeth.  "He left me
high and dry, how about you finishing the job at your place?"

I don't know how he knew, but of course there were no secrets at Rene's.
Yeah I had a one-room apartment a few blocks away.  I left my parent's
apartment, once I was earning money.

"Okay," I said, but when you talk about it in the future, and you will,
please be kind."

He had no idea what that meant, that line from "Tea and Sympathy" and he
shrugged.

Almost as a dream, we arrived at the door to the room and the key worked
smoothly for the first time and we were standing in the room in complete
privacy for the first time as well.

He swayed a bit.  Then straightened up.  He began to undress without being
asked.  I followed more slowly.  In a moment we were both in our underwear.
Bobby in red bikini's, me in low rise briefs, the kind with no front.

"Hey you're pretty dishy Steve.  Nice pecs and six pack, strong legs." All
this as though he was buying a horse.

I looked him over.  Although he was a natural blond, his skin had pigment
and he was tanned on his face and legs from wearing shorts.  His legs were
a hazy of curly blond hair, but his chest was smooth.

He came close.  I could smell his slight BO from working all day.  His
hands were beautiful, with long smooth pale fingers and shiny nails.  He
put both hands on my bare shoulders and pressed.  It was, of course,
non-verbal, but clear.  He wanted me to get on my knees.

I pulled his hands off.  "Uh, uh waiter boi, lie on the bed and I'll do you
in that positin."

He shrugged and wobbled over to the bed.  He lay on his back and put his
hands behind his neck exposing his dark blond pits.  Lovely.  He closed his
eyes, but I noticed that he peeked through the slits.  This was not exactly
the usual routine for him.  I think he felt vulnerable.

I crossed to the bed.  Stood at the side, removed my briefs.  He looked.
Hey, that's interesting, he looks at guy's cocks.

"You're bigger than me," he said as if we were in a contest.

"Maybe, but yours is very nice."  I followed this remark by touching his
cock.  It rose up as if it were on springs.  He was uncut, but the cover
was thin and not tight.  It really was a nice looking prick, and the balls
were pink hairless and large.

I continued to sort of handle it.  He was audibly breathing.  I cupped my
hand and shagged him slightly.  He opened his eyes, "Are you going to play
with it?  Get on the stick and blow me."

I could see that this was his way of getting off, to be in control.  That's
why he has never had a really good cum.  You must give up your self to the
other person to really enjoy it.

"Let me do it my own way.  Turn off your mind.  Close your eyes.  Relax."

I began petting his belly.  This kind of sends the receiver back to his
babyhood when mummy put him to sleep this way.  Oh, I am devious, but I was
determined to train this boy.  He murmured sleepily and I think he was
being pleasured.

Next I put an index finger on his tit.  It was a beauty, pink and with
smooth areola that crinkled up cutely as the stimulation became strong.
"Don't do that Steve, it's too gay."

I laughed.  "Too gay, what do you think getting your cock sucked is?"  He
was one of those guys who thought that the sucker was the gay one, the
suckee manly.  He'd soon learn.

I started to get up.  He opened his eyes.  "If you don't like what I am
doing, let's quit.  We'll still be friends."

He whined at me.  'Don't quit on me.  I'm needing a good blow job.  Get
busy and stop being a drama queen."

"Good bye Bobby.  Get dressed."

That threw him.  "I'm sorry, I'll be good.  Please continue what you were
doing."

I sighed, "Okay, just because we are co-workers, I'll go back to the job at
hand."

Now that I had complete permission, and used my thumbs and rapids flicked
his nubs.  He was huffing and puffing from the sensation.  You know that
send sparks all over your body and especially your cock.

Next I reached for his rosy knees and lifted them so I could have full
access to his ball area.  They lay there in innocent quietude until I
lifted them.  I could feel the balls churning and I stroked the pink smooth
sac gently.  Slow and gentle wins the race.  Then I took the sac and moved
it slowly, back and forth, almost hypnotically.  Above it, the boy's prick
was leaking heavily.  This was not gong to be a dry run like it was with
Rene, we were well on the way.  It was time to get into the main act.  I
was determined to give him such a mind blowing (as well as cock blowing)
orgasm that he would beg for it to be repeated.

I put my lips just below the ridge under his cock head.  His honey was
spilling onto my tongue.  It was sweet and encouraged me to continue.  I
was slipping, myself, into heavy breathing and that far away strange
feeling that passion brings.  With the head in that position, I passed my
tongue over the head.  He newled loudly.  I am sure this was no
characteristic of Mr. Cool.  The boy who only gets sucked when he needs it.
Then I began a rhythmatic lapping.  I kept this up.  His face and smooth
pale chest were red with blushes of sex heat.  His pretty full lipped mouth
was hanging open.  This boy was close to cuming.  Now for the finale.

I let his smooth cock slide down my throat.  My tongue vibrated the
underside and my throat muscles massaged the shaft.

"Oh, oo, oh," he moaned.  "That's so good.  I can't take much more.  I'm
brimming over now."  He perfect body locked into an almost paralysis.  He
was gasping and gulping as his cock began to drip cum, then shoot a stream.
This happened many times.  I drank it all.  He had delicious spooge.

Finally I removed my mouth.  He was lying back, breathing hard and his
muscles were jumping.  He was like a fish out of water, gasping on the desk
of a boat.  I let him recover.  Finally he gave me a sly smile.  "You
bastard.  You knew that you had the talent and that I had never really been
truly sucked before.  It was just great, but don't expect anything mutual.

He got dressed, still smiling.  He patted me on the check and left.


End Part One.,

Do you think he can keep away from Steve after that experience.  How will
Stevie handle this proud, selfish, beautiful boy?