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

I'm not fond of now, and I think tomorrow might be worse, but there's always room for hope. Here's hope. Maybe.

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 Three

Me and Mom woke up early the next morning, because she had to go to work taking care of Mrs. Moroni, and I had to go suck my boyfriend's dick. I think both of us were pretty excited, because it was her first job in a long time, and my first boyfriend ever. I mean, I wanted to suck it so bad. It was not like I felt like a little cocksucking fag, but he was my boyfriend. Okay, maybe I was just a little cocksucking fag, but it felt, well, different.

I guess I woke him up. It was only eight in the morning, and he came to the door in boxers with his hair all messed up, and his bed wasn't made yet. He told me to just sit in the kitchen and watch TV while he got his act together. My mouth was watering, just thinking about his delicious dick, while he showered and brushed his teeth and, yes, made his bed.

I switched around the channels on the TV. There was some cartoons, but they was baby cartoons, and there was some lady playing with her pussy, but, like I said, I didn't care about pussies. I watched the tractor pull a little bit, but it was boring.

The news was still all about the bombs, and that was boring too, but it was better than some lady's pussy. They was saying there had to be some big bunch of terrorists with lots of bombers, because the bombs was going off in all different places, with all different guys caught on video.

Anyway, it wasn't long before Carlito come out and turned off the TV. Then he made us breakfast, which stopped me thinking for a while about what else I wanted to eat.

The only waffles I'd ever ate was the ones you make in the toaster, and that was back when Dad was still alive and we had some more money for groceries. Carlito made real waffles, in this waffle making thing with a top and a bottom where you put the batter in between. They smelled real good, but the big surprise was when he opened the freezer and took out a tub of ice cream, and scooped some onto my waffle. When do you get to eat ice cream for breakfast? The only times I got to eat ice cream was at some other kid's birthday party, and I didn't get to go to those too much because Mom would have to buy the kid a present.

The ice cream was vanilla. I never had vanilla before, and I kind of thought vanilla meant "plain" because it was just white, but it wasn't. It had a wonderful smell to it, and it tasted just delicious on my waffles. When I was done, I guess I kind of closed my eyes and was smiling because it felt so good, but then I felt Carlito touch me, and he pulled me right into his lap there on the kitchen chair, and he hugged me and cuddled me so nice. I really did have a boyfriend.

I wasn't even hard yet when he opened my pants and took my little doodle in his hand. Well, it got hard pretty fast, and I went right back to thinking about sucking on his big, beautiful cock. I guess he didn't want that just yet, because instead of putting me down on my knees right there on the kitchen floor and feeding me what I was thinking of, he picked me up and carried me into his bedroom, and lay me down on his neatly made bed. He pulled off my sneakers and my socks and my pants and my underpants, so I was laying there just in my t-shirt, and he just looked at me. Oh, he looked at me so hard, and I was just so hard, and I really wanted to look at him, but it wasn't time yet.

So he put his face down between my legs, and licked me from my hole to my balls and back to my hole again. He closed my legs around his face, and I guess he must have shaved while he was in the bathroom, because he was hardly scratchy at all. Then he kissed me up and down the insides of my legs, and told me how soft and smooth I was. I still wanted to suck his dick, though. I almost started to cry.

"Please, Carlito," I said, "come on! I really really got to suck you!"

First he just looked down at me. Then he grabbed my little boner and played with it, which only made it worse. Then he stood up, and finally dropped his pants. He was wearing fresh boxers, and his long stiffie stuck out the front, right out of one leg hole. I don't think any guy ever used the fly in his underpants for anything ever.

I sat up on the bed so I could reach it, but he made me wait a little longer while he pulled off my t-shirt. Then I had to wait even longer while he rubbed the end of his dick all around my face. He rubbed it across my nose, and over my eyes, and up and down my cheeks, and even on my chin and my neck. He rubbed it across my lips, but he was too fast to let me catch it. I opened my mouth real wide and stuck out my tongue and wiggled it around, so he'd get the idea.

He had to do my nipples first, but at last, he jammed it into my mouth, maybe a little too far, because it hit the back of my throat and I thought I was going to puke. I didn't, though. I took as much as I could in my mouth, and grabbed the rest with my hand, and grabbed his ass with my other hand while he fucked my face. I really liked him fucking my face. He was my boyfriend, and getting my face fucked was what boyfriends are for. Right?

I swallowed, just like the day before. Maybe it wasn't so much, or maybe I just wanted more, but it was good enough. Something funny happened after that, though. I'd sucked out all his stuff, and he was kind of half hard, and he pulled his dick out of my mouth and kind of smacked me across the face with it. Then he laughed. I wasn't sure what it meant, but I laughed too. I mean, it didn't hurt my face, and if it did, it probably would have hurt his dick more than my face, but it still was kind of weird.

..........

He wanted to talk. I didn't want to talk. I just wanted to keep on doing boyfriend stuff, or maybe have more ice cream, but we had to talk first.

"Rico," he said to me, "you know you have kind of a funny name, because you're not rich, and probably you never will be."

"It's just short for Ricardo," I said. "Only rich people get rich. I mean, more rich."

"I want to change that, baby," he said.

I didn't much like him calling me "baby," but I didn't complain. I just said, "Mom says the rich people got it all, and they also got the army and the cops, so the rest of us are just shit out of luck."

"She's probably right," he answered me, "but we still have to try. Otherwise we're just slaves. You know what slaves are, right""

Well, I knew from school that Abraham Lincoln freed them, but it didn't seem to do most of them much good. Most of the black kids in my school -- and I think Jerry must have been a little black -- looked like they was doing even worse than us Latinos. Hell, even some of the white kids in my school was camped out under cardboard boxes in the park. So I said, "Then we're slaves. But they got the cops and the army. So how are we supposed to change it?"

"They got to be scared, Rico. They got to be scared enough to make things better for the rest of us."

I was starting to feel like I was having my first fight with my new boyfriend, and I got a little scared myself, but he suddenly got less serious and said, "We'll talk about that later. Now, let's just have some more ice cream."

We put pancake syrup on our ice cream. It was real good.

I dribbled some syrup and melted ice cream on my chest, and Carlito licked it off. I'm not sure any of it really got on my nipples, but maybe it did, because he licked them like they was sweet as candy. Then we just held each other naked, and I was okay with that for a while, figuring we'd get more frisky later on.

But then he said, "I don't know, Rico. I'm thinking I can't drag you into it."

"Into what?" I wanted to know.

"Into my life," he said. "It's complicated, and rough, and I might not last that long."

"You sick?" I asked.

"No," he told me, "the fucking world is sick. And I'm in a war. And it's dangerous, and I don't want to drag you into it. I... well, I fell in love with you. And I don't want you hurt."

"But you're my boyfriend," I protested, not having a clue what he was talking about. "I mean, my life ain't so great neither, but it's a hell of a lot better when I'm with you."

And then he hugged me very hard and started crying, and even though I didn't know what the fuck he was crying about, I started crying too.

..........

When we got finished crying, which was longer than I expected, I figured it was time for something special. "Carlito," I said, "could we put ice cream on your dick and I'll suck it off?"

"You gotta be kidding," he told me. "Ice cream is cold, and my dick might shrink down so little you'd laugh every time you ever saw it again!"

Both of us laughed at that. Then I said, "Well, if it was little enough, I could let you put it up my ass."

"Yeah," he said, "but if it was all shriveled up from ice cream, it would be too soft to go up your ass."

I thought about it, but not for long, and I didn't even have any beers that day. "Then maybe," I said, "we should just try it the regular way."

We had to wait a while, because he'd emptied a big load down my throat not all that long before. Boys like me, who don't shoot yet, could be ready again in a minute, but even a young guy like Carlito needed some time to recharge. So we just lay there a while, him with his finger up my ass, licking at each other's tongues. I was starting to think that maybe the tongue thing was not so bad after all -- not if it was with your boyfriend.

Well, I wound up having to wait until after lunch, which was three-decker grilled cheese and BLT sandwiches, which he made in a big iron frying pan, with a big heavy iron thing with a handle on top so it all melted together, and it was so good. Yes, he washed his hands first. Carlito was like that. I was not sure if good food was my second favorite thing or my first.

He had the TV on again, and the cops was still trying to figure out who planted that last bomb, even though there was cameras damn near everywhere. They had a picture of a guy with a long beard and funny clothes, and they said he was disguised as Amish, but it had to be a disguise because real Amish would never leave a suitcase bomb where it would kill Senator Henderson and some other people who worked for him. I thought it was boring, because bombs went off all the time, only not in my neighborhood, because we was too poor to bother bombing. We just got shot, mostly by gang bangers, and mostly by accident.

Then lunch was over, and Carlito turned off the TV, and scooped up some of the leftover bacon grease from the frying pan. The grease had cooled and hardened. He had me bend down over his knees there on the kitchen chair, like he was going to spank me. Well, I was pretty sure my sweet boyfriend didn't want to spank me, even if I might have let him, and maybe liked it a little. Anyway, he didn't. He just pushed that bacon grease up my hole, shoving that finger way up inside me, and somewhere up there he found a spot that made me kind of yell out loud, but not in a bad way. It was a good way. A very good way.

"Feel good?" he asked.

All I could say was, "Oooh," and "Uhhn." I looked up, and saw him grinning. Then he picked me up and swung me around so I was on his lap, facing him. I guess he found a chance to rub the rest of the bacon grease onto his very stiff dick, because when he sat me down on it, it just slid right in. Okay, the first inch or two kind of caught me by surprise, but that was just for a couple of seconds, and I'd thought it might be too long, but it wasn't. It was just a perfect fit, and I had to wrap my arms around him and hug him and kiss him as I bounced up and down and had the best time of my life.

..........

We did it some more that afternoon, and it lasted longer, maybe because Carlito was a little used up, but that was fine for me. He got me in bed, from behind, and reached around to rub my little boner. He got me on my back, with my legs in the air, and I could hear his balls slapping against my ass while we kissed. He did me like a doggy, where I could see us in his bedroom mirror, and all I could think was that he was the bestest, horniest boyfriend any boy ever could have. Somewhere around four-thirty in the afternoon, I was still getting very good feelings from his long, skinny dick up my ass when he went soft on me.

"Sorry, sweetheart," he said, "but that's all I got. This was the best day of my life."

"Mine too," I told him. "But we can try for even better!"

It looked like he was going to cry again, but he didn't. He just kissed me. Then he gave me the locker key.

..........

I went home, and we had supper with Mrs. Moroni. Mrs. Moroni couldn't eat anything spicy, so it was pretty dull. You know, boiled chicken in soup with carrots and celery and noodles and no salt. There was some ketchup I got to put in mine, but ketchup doesn't make things any spicier. It just makes them sweet and reddish, and who wants sweet boiled reddish chicken with carrots and celery and reddish noodles?

Okay, I guess it was a lot better than what I usually got, but Carlito kind of had spoiled me, I guess. And also the perv with the deli sandwich. I really wanted another one of those.

So Carlito was leaving on another trip the next day, which was Sunday, and said he didn't know when he'd be back. He just kept kissing me and kissing me, and telling me how much he'd miss me. It made me feel, well, scared, I guess -- like he might never get back at all.

So Mom and me spent Sunday with Mrs. Moroni, who is not such a bad old lady, except that really old ladies can do some disgusting things I will not talk about here. And I went back to school on Monday, and was going to tell Jerry about how much and how hard I got fucked by my new boyfriend, but somehow I didn't.

I was upstairs at Mrs. Moroni's for supper when I saw it on TV. Even behind the fake beard and sunglasses, which made the news guys think he was an Arab, I recognized Carlito. The whole trailer was filled with dynamite or something, and the blast was big enough to knock down most of the arena where they had their meeting. I think the meeting was something called a "sea pack."

A whole lot of those rich mother-fuckers got blown away that day, including the fucking President and a whole lot of fucking Congress, but I figure nobody but me ever will have a clue who was driving the truck. It was big shit on the news, but regular people didn't seem to mind too much. I hoped Carlito got away in time, but he didn't come home.

I took the key down to the train station, and found a suitcase with close to 18 grand mostly in small bills. Me and Jerry ate a lot of deli sandwiches. And what happened after that, I really better not say.

(Well, that was another from heedon@tormail.org -- and although the story now is officially over, I might be persuaded to bring back Rico and Carlito for more sex and mayhem. What do you think?)