(No warnings -- you know why you're here.

If you skipped over part one, you missed a blowjob, but it wasn't very satisfying to anybody involved. You should go back and read it anyway, because 2020 is a real story, not just stuff to help you wank.

2020 is public domain, free of all copyright protection. Steal it if you are so inclined. Although the story is free, Nifty is not. Go to http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html and make a tax deductible contribution.)

2020

Part Two

I didn't know why Mom always kept the TV on in the morning, because all it ever said was how people like us was what was wrong with the country. Lately, all they talked about was big shots I never heard of getting themselves blowed up by terrorists. They got a couple of billionaires, and five or six big shot millionaire politicians by then, and the TV was figuring they had to be Arabs or something like that. I didn't give a shit, because I wasn't any kind of big shot, so I wasn't gonna get bombed. Worst I'd catch would be a stray bullet from some gang banger.

Anyway, I didn't get a chance to suck any more cock for sandwiches that week, and I spent most of Friday afternoon in school wondering whether or not I'd go to Carl's apartment. Finally my stomach grumbled me into it. He'd promised to feed me. His building wasn't fancy enough to have a doorman, so I just walked in and took the stairs to the second floor. I wasn't going to wait for the elevator and give myself a chance to change my mind. 2F was at the end of the hall.

I pushed the doorbell. I saw his eye look out the peephole, then he opened the door and smiled at me. "I wasn't sure you'd come," he said, "but I made a big pot of homemade chili. Come on in."

"Beef or chicken?" I asked.

"Beef, of course. Who makes chili with chicken?"

"My mother," I told him, "if she puts in any meat at all." We never had beef. Even ground beef was way too expensive. Inside, I could smell the chili on the stove, and it smelled real good.

"You hungry?" he asked. "I could scoop you a bowl right now, or, if you want to wait a little, I could cook up some rice and beans to have alongside."

"I'm always hungry," I said. When I was little, they used to have half-price school lunch for us poor kids, but they didn't have lunch at all anymore. You have to bring your own. Or not.

Carl told me to sit at the kitchen table and switched off the TV, which was going on and on about the latest terrorist bomb. Then he ladled out a big bowlful of chili, and put it down in front of me with a spoon. I couldn't believe my eyes. It was like all meat, with just enough sauce to make it taste delicious. My mother's chili was mostly beans, with maybe a little ground chicken scattered through. Carl didn't put in any beans at all. It was spicier than I was used to, but that didn't stop me from gobbling it right down. He took my bowl and scooped me up some more.

"I forgot to buy Coke," he said. "You want a glass of water?"

"Okay," I said. He opened the refrigerator to take out one of those filter pitchers, which pretty much everybody uses now, after the fracking, and I noticed what was on his bottom shelf. "Do you think, maybe, I could have one of those beers?"

"And send you home with beer on your breath?"

"Mom won't notice. She don't notice much of nothing since Dad died."

..........

I stuffed down a third bowl of chili, washed down with beer. It was the first time I felt full since my cocksucker sandwich almost a week before. I guess the beer loosened up my tongue a little, because when we sat down on his couch, I said, "My friend Jerry thinks you want to be my boyfriend."

He kind of grinned at me. I liked his grin. "Well, I don't know," he answered. "Are you good at kissing?"

I felt myself blush. The truth was I'd never kissed anybody but Mom and Dad, and not since I was little, and I knew that wasn't the kind of kissing he meant.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I was just teasing. But when you hitched that ride with me, I liked you right away. I liked how you just opened up and said everything on your mind. That's why I invited you to come over."

It probably was the beer, but I felt myself tearing up a little. "I don't know nothing about kissing, but I wouldn't mind sucking your cock if that's what you want." Damn it, I had to wipe tears off my face!

He just looked at me and said, "Well, maybe you could use a hug."

I could. I did. He pulled me onto his lap and wrapped his arms around me. It felt good, even if I was thinking, "I don't need another dad" all the while. Then he tilted up my face, and put his lips against mine.

I didn't have another dad. I had a boyfriend.

..........

Okay, it was confusing. I mean, I couldn't see why he thought it was fun to rub our tongues against each other's. Well, I didn't really mind that much, but I wasn't getting much out of it. So I asked him again if he wanted me to suck him off, considering how we was boyfriends and all.

"How about," he answered, "if I suck you off instead?"

Jerry said he'd suck me off once, just so I'd know how it felt, and if I gave him half my peanut butter sandwich, but I stuck with the sandwich. This time, though, I was with my new boyfriend, and my belly was already full. For a few seconds, I stopped to think about if I really wanted him for my boyfriend. I mean, did I love him?

I still wasn't sure. Later on, things got even more confusing, but I'll tell you about that when I get to it. So I wound up kind of saying, "Uh, I guess so. Okay."

He took me into his bedroom, and I was kind of surprised to see his bed was all made and he didn't have clothes tossed around. Maybe I forgot to tell you we'd left our shirts in the living room, and he'd been kissing me on my chest and my shoulders, and he did that some more as he pushed me back onto his bed. Then he actually undid the knots on my sneakers instead of just pulling them off, and then he pulled off my socks and kissed me on the bottoms of my feet. I am a little ticklish there, but I thought it was kind of nice.

He unbuckled my belt, opened the button on my pants, and zipped down my fly. I was wishing I'd worn clean underpants, but that didn't matter because I didn't have them on for that long. I was just laying there naked, on Carl's neat bed, with him kind of holding my legs up in the air and staring down at my boy boner.

Like I said, I didn't have any hair yet, and like the rest of me, it wasn't all that big. I never measured, because then I would have had to tell Jerry and a couple of the other boys who wanted to know. For Carl, though, I guess it was just the right size, because he pulled it up off my belly and took the end gently into his mouth. He ran his tongue all around the head, which was wide open because I'd been born in a Jewish hospital, and they just circumcised everybody.

It was a wonderful feeling, and although I wasn't doing much thinking right then, I was thinking he'd be a hell of a good boyfriend. At the same time, though, I was hoping he didn't have a giant dick, because sooner of later I figured he'd want to fuck me. And that I might really want his dick up my ass, but not if it was big enough to hurt.

So I just stopped thinking altogether, and lay back, and enjoyed what his mouth was doing to my dick. Hell, there wasn't much else I could do, because he was doing me so much better than I'd ever been able to do with my hand. Sometimes he'd just dive down on me, stick out his tongue, and lick my ballsack. Sometimes, he'd just slide up and down my pole, and sometimes he'd give extra-special attention to my head with his tongue.

I guess I was wriggling around like a fish just caught and pulled up in the boat, and I don't think I lasted all that long. I just felt my whole body go stiff while I pumped my boner, over and over, as far as it would go into Carl's mouth. I still couldn't squirt nothing, but I have to tell you, it felt like I did. After that, I just kind of collapsed. My dick started going soft, even though it was still in Carl's mouth. I was kind of used up.

..........

I was drinking another beer when it came to me that Carl still hadn't got his rocks off, and how, as his new boyfriend, I ought to take care of that. Well, I was still naked, and maybe a little more drunk than I'd had a chance to be before, and I still hadn't seen his cock. So I climbed up on top of him and stuck my tongue in his mouth, even though that was no big deal to me. What the hell, he seemed to like it.

Then he stuck a finger right in there with our tongues, which kind of surprised me, and then he stuck that wet finger right up my ass, which surprised me more. I kind of automatically tightened up on it, but it didn't hurt at all, and I was thinking that if he wasn't too big, he might get it up my ass that afternoon. (Probably, I should have been thinking how boys shouldn't drink some beers and get naked with guys they hardly know, but I didn't think that at all.)

"Carly," I said, "I didn't mean to get fucked today. And probably I don't want it. But show me your dick, and maybe I'll change my mind." Two and a half beers and dead drunk. Well, that's what being thirteen is like.

"Don't call me Carly," he said. "But if you're feeling soft on me, you can call me Carlito, like my mama did."

I grinned a little, I guess, because I'd been pretty sure his real name was Carlos, and now I was all sure.

"Carlito," I said, "just take out your dick, so I can play with it. Make me happy."

I guess telling him he could make me happy by taking out his dick worked, because he stood up and slid down his skinny jeans, then sat down and pulled them over his feet. They were so skinny, his socks came off along with them. He was wearing these little bitty underpants -- not up his ass or girly, really, but pretty small. They had blue and white squares, and his boner was sticking out over the waistband. Maybe if he'd pushed it off to the side he might have sort of kept it inside his underpants, but he didn't. He just shucked off the underpants, and let me look at him naked.

My boyfriend was beautiful. His dick looked a little on the long side for my little ass, but not too fat. He'd trimmed back his hair down there to maybe just half an inch or so. When I put my face against him to start kissing it, he smelled good. Not like flowers, like that other guy, just good. Like a man. Like a delicious man who didn't taste like chemicals at all.

I know it's no big deal being gay, but that's when I figured out that gay was exactly what I was, and it came as not such a big surprise. I took him in my mouth. He started humping at me, not hard, but very, very sexy. "Shit," I thought, "I kind of like cocksucking. Anyway, I like it with Carlito." And it was just about then that any thought of pussies -- big or little or hairy or bald or whatever -- just kind of passed out of my head.

I liked that Carlitto was not hairy, which meant he felt smooth anyplace I touched him, and I tried to touch him everyplace. He was smooth, but he wasn't soft, though. He was just my beautiful man, my perfect boyfriend, and his beautiful cock would slide up my ass sometime. Just, maybe, not today.

And I tried to do everything to him that he had done to me, except he had got my whole cock and my balls in his mouth at one time, and there was no way I could ever do that unless I was a sword swallower. So every so often I just had to let his cock out of my mouth and jerk it just with my hand so I could duck down and lick his balls a little. Then I'd put his head back in my mouth and rub my tongue all around.

When he shot his load, I made sure to swallow every last drop, because when I headed home I wanted to have some of him inside me. And after that we held each other some more, just rubbing his naked body against my naked body, and it felt better than anything I could imagine.

..........

I figured I had to get home by suppertime or Mom would think I got hit by a car or something, but before I left Carlito's, I asked if I could come back the next day, which was a Saturday. He said he'd wait for me.

When I got home, though, there was shit going on. Mom was telling this lady how she couldn't pay more rent, and it looked like she might start crying.

"Hey, Mom," I said, "what's wrong?"

"This is Mrs. Hayes," she said. "She's Mrs. Moroni's daughter." Mrs. Moroni was the old lady who owned the house, and lived upstairs. "She's here to tell us the rent has to go up so she has enough money to hire an aide to help Mrs. Moroni."

"Look," Mrs. Hayes said, "I know my mother would let you stay here forever at the same rent, but she's too old to be on her own anymore. And I'm sorry, but I don't see any other way to do it."

I saw a way to do it. "Why not let my Mom take care of her?" I asked. "She takes care of me pretty good, and she needs a job."

They worked it out. Mom would take care of Mrs. Moroni and the house, and we wouldn't pay rent anymore, and Mom would cook supper for all three of us with Mrs. Moroni's groceries, and if there was leftovers, I could take them to school for lunch the next day. I felt pretty smart.

(More to come from heedon@tormail.org )