Warning, this story may contain explicit descriptions of sexual acts between boys of various ages and/or men and boys. If this is not to your tastes, please leave now.
The author retains copyrights to the story.
http://www.pridesites.com/cdawg/C_City.htm Stop by, I'd love to hear from you!
By Chris Carr
©1999
V. (continued)
Looking down, Keone saw that he had somehow sat down on his bed, but he couldn't remember doing it. He also noticed his dick was brick hard again. Gripping it in his hand, he read the ad again, his dick swelling when he considered a brother slipping his big lips over his dick. An abrupt impulse seizing him, he picked up the phone, his fingers trembling, as he dialed. His heart was in his throat by the time the other end picked up. To his surprise it was a message, directing him to enter the mailbox number of the person he wished to contact. Picking up the magazine, he searched the ad for a number and punched in a series of digits he imagined was the code. A connection was made and a voice came on the phone.
"Yo' cutie, get ready 'cause you not gon' believe this. Big things DO come in li'l packages. 5' 7", sweet honey brown skin, brown eyes, hard dick, and big, pink lips soft enough to make ALL your dreams come true. If you're young but legal, I'm your man. Your dick won't know an end to cumming! You under 21, this means you, otherwise, don't bother. Leave me a message after the beep."
The phone chirped, and there was silence. Keone could hear his heartbeat thundering in his ears as he waited. Slamming the phone down, he plopped back down on his bed. The ad had been so absurd, Keone had to chuckle. That fool is crazy, he cackled. Lying beneath the intermittent breeze of his open window, he caressed his body, playing with his nipples, running his hand over his stomach, his hands eventually finding his dick. It was hard again, naturally.
That nigga was talkin 'bout suckin my dick, he thought, stroking his dick. "… big, pink lips soft enough to make ALL your dreams come true …Dick won't know an end to cumming…" The thoughts kept repeating in his mind. I wonder what time he'd call me back? I'd have to make sure to answer the phone if my moms was home. Wonder what he look like? I bet he be on my dick like gangbusters!
Groping his erect dick, Keone redialed the number. When the message completed, he waited for the annoying beep.
"Um…. Yeah… this is…" Pausing, he fretted over giving his name to a total stranger.
"This is… Keone," he whispered, dreading his decision. "I'm young… Can you call me… but don't say yo' name, dude! Say yo' name is Andre, man. Call me at…"
Leaving his number, he hung the phone up. He couldn't believe how much his hands were shaking. You done lost yo' ever-luvin mind, nigga! Panic gripped him. How the hell you gon' get outta here to meet some nigga you called from a sex book! You just have to make sure to be Johnny on the spot with the phone tonight.
VI.
"What about that one over there, Jordie?"
"Will you chill, brotha? We just out for a little R&R, a'ight?"
"But you know she was a little cutie, right?"
"Yeah b, gotta give it to you, you still got the eye."
"Damn straight, kid be knowing. How 'bout I just call that honey over here for you?"
"Thanks b, but I'm cool."
Dinner with his close friend Michael was always an adventure in matchmaking. Friends since grade school, the young men often hung out, sharing a dinner or hooking up with some of their friends for a night on the town. The uniqueness of their combined names had been the catalyst for their friendship. Throughout their school years the inseparable boys were jokingly referred to as, the 'Michael Jordan' squad by their friends. Never short of words, Michael could prove challenging at times, but Jordie couldn't imagine life without him.
"This is a pretty nice little place, how'd you find it?" Michael inquired.
"A client of mine is always talkin 'bout this place. He say they got some of the best Buffalo Wings in the city."
Looking around, Michael took in the sights. The restaurant was small, the 10 modest tables packed with customers. Most of the clientele seemed young with a few middle-aged couples scattered about. A TV mounted near the front was playing videos, piped through a sound system. KC and JoJo were performing on the screen, their voices virtual contortionists as they bent notes all over the keyboard. A young lady dressed in high heels and a dress that was way too short, approached their table introducing herself as their waiter for the evening.
"What'll you gentlemen be having this evening?"
"I don't know 'bout my brotha over here, but I've been told y'all got some of the best Buffalo Wings in the city. That sounds like a winner to me," Michael piped up.
"Would you like that with mild or spicy sauce?"
"I think I'll try the spicy," Michael said, throwing the girl a suggestive grin.
"Alright, like that," the girl said, smiling.
"And you?"
Jordie was still studying the menu, as usual.
"No doubt, Mr. Choosy here, ain't ready," Michael mocked.
"I'm ready, I'm ready. I was just trying to see if there was anything else I might've wanted. A'ight, I'll take the Buffalo Wings too, mild sauce, please."
"Ok gentlemen, would you like to have something to drink with your dinner?"
"A Lowenbrau for me, please," Michael ordered.
"I'll take a Coke."
"Alright, we're a little busy tonight, but I'll be back with your orders, shortly."
"A'ight," the boy's chimed, Michael scoping the girl from head to toe.
Watching her leave, Jordie stated, "You gon' be on that all evenin', ain't you?"
"You betta know it," Michael said, holding his hand out. Slapping each other five, the boys laughed.
Looking around Michael inquired,
"Which client was it told you 'bout this place, that guy from DigiCom?"
"Sure was, how'd you guess?"
"That's all you been talkin 'bout. DigiCom this and DigiCom that"
"That could get large, dude."
"Yeah, why?"
"He got this big ass computer supply business, and he need's somebody to maintain his network."
"What they got, Microsoft or Netware?"
"Microsoft."
"A'ight, I see what you saying now. You just remember who your friends are, once you get big, a'ight?"
"I ain't gonna get that big."
"Oh, I doubt that. Anybody work as hard as you do, gots ta hit it big, eventually."
"I don’t work any harder than you do."
The waitress returned to their table with their drinks. When she left Michael said,
"That's probably right, but you don't know how to loosen up and have some fun."
"I have fun, just not the way you do."
"Staying up till all hours of the night, working on network systems, ain't my idea of 'having fun'."
"Don't knock it till you've tried it, 'G'."
"Oh, I've tried it. That's how come I know it ain't fun."
"I'm out tonight, what else you want?"
"I just worry 'bout you sometimes, bro. You's a hard workin brotha."
The waitress returned with their meals, and the boy's dug in.
"You still working up there at that pool?"
"Yeah, but that's only part time, when I can get to it," Jordie said, wolfing down a tasty wing.
"All them wild kids don't run you crazy?"
"Naw, it's a nice getaway. I can sit up there on that tower and just not think. Just holler at the idiots trying to drown somebody, and enjoy the view of all them little young honeys."
"Speaking of 'young honeys', that girl… what's her name… Oh! Trista. Was I mistaken, or was she stone jocking you last time I was up there?"
"You noticed that, too?"
"Hell yeah! I was afraid she was gon' take a bite outta you, any minute!"
"Yeah, she been givin me serious energy, man!"
"She a cute little girl, and I do mean, little."
"Yeah, she can't be no more than 17."
"Somebody best to get her off you 'fo she go buy the china, b."
"I'm sayin, huh?"
"She comin on strong, bro," Michael said, holding his hand out, Jordie slapping it.
"Still, even that would be better than you spending yo' nights alone, my man."
"Aw hell, not this again! You don't give a nigga a chance, do you?"
"Cain't blame a brotha fo' not tryin."
"You so concerned 'bout me, I don't see you hooked up with nobody."
"Yeah, but at least I'm looking."
"I'm looking."
"Ok, you lookin'?"
"You needs to give that a rest."
"Ok, ok, don't have ta bite a brotha's head off. Aw shit, I KNOW you's gon' like what just walked through the door, though."
Looking over his shoulder, Jordie was pleasantly surprised at his friend's selection. Still, he'd never let him know that. It never ends, Jordie thought, and despite his protest, the evening ended with the aforementioned 'honey' joining the boys. Watching his most recent match, Michael was pleased, and in his heart of hearts he knew Jordie was, too.
VII.
The sound of the phone panicked Keone. He seized it, hoping he'd beat his Mom to it. Twin hello's greeted the caller, Keone insisting,
"Mom, I got it!" After his mother hung up the phone, Keone started,
"Hello"
"Yes, are you the homeowner?"
"No fool!" Keone said, slamming the phone down. This was the third call of the evening, none of which were the one Keone expected. He was a nervous wreck, the long wait wearing on him greatly. Ever since his mom had come home, he was a jumpy, distracted mess. All afternoon long, he'd stared at the phone, willing it to ring. It only rang once, a kid on the other end asking for Pookie. Why didn't he call this afternoon, Keone lamented?
When his mother came home, he retreated to his room, the phone in tow. The further into the evening it got, the more Keone regretted his hasty actions. He'd refrained from masturbating since he'd made the call, his thriving teen libido playing second fiddle to his growing uneasiness. When his mother called him for his dinner, he quickly grabbed a plate, his mother inquiring as to why he was hanging around the house so. He gave a quick rebuttal to the contrary and returned to his room, barely able to touch his food.
The darkness of night having descended, Keone paced his room, waiting. Eventually he became convinced the stranger wasn't going to call. It had been a foolish, rash decision on his part to make the call, he reasoned. Turning on his TV, he lay on his bed, resigned. Minutes later, he dozed off, his mind reeling with visions of sex.
In his dream he saw himself at the pool again. Happy to be working again, he swooped through the locker room, picking up the various objects, with glee. To his surprise, however, all of the articles scattered over the locker room floor were boy's underwear. There were undershirts, socks, briefs, and boxers. Even more confusing was the shock that all of the briefs and boxers were stained in the crotch with boy cum. Copious amounts of the jiz lay splattered in each pair, some of it fresh! Keone picked up a pair, bringing it to his nose, sniffing it. Wrapped in sheer nirvana, he inhaled again, the aroma of boy cum striking his nose. Goddamn! Musta been a fuck party in here, or something. He regretted having missed it.
Looking down, he realized he was naked. His nudity panicked him. Was he alone? The only sound greeting him was that of a distant, dripping, shower nozzle.
"Hello?" he called out, his voice reverberating throughout the empty locker. No one answered. Concluding he was alone, his attention was drawn to his burgeoning hard-on. Gripping it, he sniffed another pair of briefs, recently stained with boy cum, the liquid still warm to the touch. Working up a rhythm on his dick, he became embroiled in getting off, desirous to add his load to that of the many loads already left before him. A rippling of his toes on the cold locker room floor alerting him his orgasm was near, he heard the bloodcurdling sound of his name being called.
"Keone?!" Turning to the sound of the voice, terrified, Keone searched the row of lockers for whomever it was calling him.
"Keone?!!" Damn! Who the hell is calling me now? Just as he was about to make out the face his name was called again, this time more urgently.
"Keone?!!!"
DAMN!! It was his mother. His eyes bucking open, Keone answered.
"Yeah?"
"Somebody named Andre on the phone!"
"Ok… I got it!" How long I been sleep, Keone pondered, glancing at his clock? The red numbers declaring 8:45 informed him he'd been sleep for nearly two hours. Snatching the phone up, he answered, his hands shaking.
"Hello?"
"Hello...?" the hesitant voice started.
"Yo! Andre!… I got it mom, you can hang up." Waiting until the extension clicked, Keone continued.
"Yeah, hello?"
"Um… Is this Keone?"
Well I'll be God damn… Say something! his rattled brain screamed.
"Yeah… this is Keone." A silence followed, lasting so long, Keone was afraid the man had hung up.
"Hello?"
"Yo, is this Keone?"
"Yeah."
"And you the one that called?"
"Um… yeah."
"You sound pretty young."
"Well… I'm…"
"I don't want to know. Just tell me you're legal."
Hesitant, Keone answered, "Ok… I'm legal."
"Good! Where are you?"
"L.A."
"What part?"
"93rd and Hoover."
"You want to get together, then?"
"Um… yeah… I guess so," Keone said, his curiosity piqued.
"Where should I meet you, your place?"
"NO!! I mean… you know where that park is on Century and Vermont?"
"Yeah."
"Meet me there."
"Can you be there in thirty minutes?"
"Yeah."
"Ok, what'll you be wearing?"
"Huh?"
"So I'll know who you are."
"Oh. Um… I'll put on my yellow shorts."
"Great! See you there."
"Ok."
Keone looked at the receiver, still buzzing in his hand, and tried to comprehend what had just happened. Hanging up the phone, he felt his stomach flip. You a fool, his better mind warned him. Standing, he looked at himself in his mirror, his white boxers gleaming in the moonlight. Conflicting opinions waged war in his head. Call him back and tell him that's ok, he fussed.
Removing his boxers, he gazed at his body in the mirror. Caressing his dick, desire arose in him as it hardened. Walking across the floor, Keone stood in front on the mirror, looking at himself. Pulling lightly on his foreskin, he became weak in the knees from the rush of feelings emanating from his dick, suffusing his young body in lust. Bet that joker'll swallow this and ALL my cum, too, he imagined, gently stroking his dick. Looking at his reflection in the mirror he mumbled, "But what you gone tell your mom?" She heard you talking to him, he worried. She don't know no Andre. Why'd you tell him to say Andre? What if one of yo' friends see you at the park? Who you gone tell them ANDRE is?
The opposing issues were so unavoidable, Keone soon found his dick wilting. What to do? Perplexed, Keone laid on his bed, wrestling with the thoughts buffeting him. Unconsciously, he started playing with his body, his hands roaming over his chest, tweaking the nipples, eventually landing on his dick. Before he knew it, his dick was sprouting at a near forty-five-degree angle from his groin again. Sliding his foreskin across the swollen head, he surrendered to the notion that nothing was more important than seeing it gliding down homeboy's throat. Grabbing a fresh pair of underwear, he found his yellow shorts.
Dressed, he left his room, hoping he could duck out the back door unnoticed.
"Keone?"
Damn! "Yes?"
"Who was that?" his mother called from the living room.
"Oh, that was this man at the youth center. I was trying to talk to him about a job," he lied from the kitchen.
"Oh."
"Mom, I'm going over to Russell's house, I'll be back in a little while."
"Keone, it's dark out there, you don't need to be going out…."
"I know, I know. I'm just going up the street. I'll be back in a li'l while," he said, opening the door and leaving before she could further protest.
"Keone!!!" his mother yelled. Sprinting out the yard, Keone headed for the park. Damn! Of all nights for her to be woke, he grumbled.
VIII.
Sitting on a park bench, Keone glanced at his watch. He still had fifteen minutes to wait. Fifteen minutes to decide was he out of his fucking mind! Jumping up, he paced around for a few minutes, finally walking into a group of bushes, the urge to pee, unrelenting. Whipping out his dick, he aimed into the bushes and let fly. A hot stream of piss arched out, assaulting the leaves of the unsuspecting bush. A sound behind him made him jump. Turning toward the sound, he saw a man, about 28-29 years old. His disheveled appearance suggested that he was a possible homeless person. It was what this vagrant was doing that blew Keone away, however. This fool had his dick out and was stroking it, salivating at Keone as he urinated. He'd apparently been stroking it for a good while too, because when Keone did look, it was astonishingly hard. Turning around, the stream of urine following him, Keone saw the guy's dick leap in his hands, streams of cum spurting out onto the grass.
"The fuck???" Keone sounded out, the man's spurting dick stunning him. Squeezing the last drops of piss out, Keone turned to… to do what? Run this pervert off? He got enough balls to jerk off in public, he probably won't scare easy and that put a slight scare in him. The man grunted through his impromptu orgasm, then, stuffing his dick inside his pants was off in a flash, disappearing in the brush. It all happened so fast, Keone was wondering had it even happened. Returning his dick to his pants, Keone walked back into the park. That fool was crazy!
Hoping to duck any of his friends, lingering around the park, he went to the kiddie area. Sitting on one of the swings, he reminisced about times he'd spent there with his father. When he was five, his father used to bring him to this park and push him in the swings, Keone squealing in glee. Pushing off in the swing, he swayed back and forth, a child again. His orbit decaying, he finally came to rest in the sand. Dormant, Keone questioned the sanity of wandering off into a park, alone, late at night, to wait for a stranger. His heart raced, filling him with alarm. Just as he was about to flee, footsteps sounded behind him. Turning around, he saw a man approaching.
"You Keone?" The man whispered.
"Uh… Yeah." Keone said, jumping up.
"My car is over there," the man said, pointing toward the parking lot. Keone glanced at the car, frozen.
"So… You coming?" Looking back at the man, Keone nodded, slowly following him.
In the minute or two he'd had to look at him, he could see the guy was rather good-looking. His ad said he was 29, but he looked much younger, almost adolescent. At the car the man said,
"I'm sure glad you came, you're cute," as he opened the door for Keone. Searching his face for the first time, Keone actually found he was getting stimulated. Judging from his looks and his almost undetectable accent Keone imagined he was Puerto Rican, his skin a golden almond-brown. His hair appeared to be close cropped, but Keone couldn't be sure because he was wearing a hooded sweatshirt. What was most appealing about his handsome face, however, were his delicious lips, the top one a little upturned. Keone's mind flashed ahead imagining what those full, cherry red lips would feel like, encircling his throbbing dick. He suffered a momentary blood loss, his dick filled so quickly. Jumping in, he quickly fixed his protruding dick in his shorts as the man walked around the car, hoping he wouldn't notice it. Yeah nigga, you can handle yours, this gon' be PHAT, he said, his anticipation slowly overriding his fear. Jumping in, the man started the car.
"My name is Sean," he stated, looking over at Keone.
Keone said nothing.
"Ain't you gon' tell me yo name?"
"I thought you didn't want to know," Keone mocked.
"Yeah… ok."
Silently riding along, Keone stared out the window, the sites unfamiliar. This sure was a strange side of town.
"You ever done this before?" The man questioned, his eyes dropping to Keone's lap.
"No," he said, closing his legs.
"So what made you do it this time?"
Keone hunched his shoulders. Not wanting to scare the kid off, Sean shut up.
"What city is this?" Keone blurted.
"Crescent Heights."
Crescent Heights, where the fuck is that? He brooded.
Sean pulled into a driveway paralleling an Old Spanish style house. When he got out his car, Keone remained inside.
"You can come on, I won't bite," Sean said through the window, his eyes traveling to Keone's lap again. Keone looked at him through the glass, ambivalent, finally, opening the door and following the man inside.
When they entered, Keone noticed that the lights were low, and somewhere, music played softly. Directing him to the couch, Sean temporarily left him alone, a light flipping on in a back room. When he returned, Keone noticed he'd removed his hooded sweatshirt. Perusing his face Keone decided homeboy WAS, in fact, good looking. Those full, sensuous lips weren't his only good feature. Sean's skin silky smooth was alluring, his big, brown eyes drawing the boy in. He took a seat next to Keone and said,
"You nervous?"
"No," Keone answered, defensive. Sean looked away, unsure.
"So… What you wanna do?" he tried again.
Keone hunched his shoulders.
"You wanna smoke a li'l something to get things started?"
"I don't do drugs, man," Keone prickled.
"Oh," Sean balked. Rebounding, he petitioned,
"You want something to drink, then?"
"I don't drink, neither," Keone sulked.
"I didn't mean liquor. You want a Coke?"
"Oh… Ok."
Sean left, entering his kitchen.
Why you acting so stupid? Keone scolded himself. You know you want dude to suck yo' dick!
"Here," Sean said, sitting beside the boy again. Keone took the soda can, and opened the pull-tab. Looking at the attractive boy, Sean felt his heart ache with desire. Moving closer, he tentatively reached his hand out subtly grazing the boy's leg. Keone flinched, glancing down at the man's caressing hand. Sean held his breath, hoping the boy wouldn't flick his hand away. When Keone did nothing, he became excited, rushing his hand to the boy's groin.
"What you doing, homes!" Keone yelped, grabbing the man's hand. Sean recoiled; frightened by the boy's reaction. He was confused. Why'd this kid come all this way, and then not want to do anything? His heart thundering in his ears, Keone coolly lifted the cola to his mouth, determined to not let the man know he was scared. Reckoning that if he really weren't interested, he'd leave, Sean rested his hand on the boy's exposed thigh again. Keone sipped on his soda, pretending to not notice. Holding himself back, this time, Sean slowly advanced his hand up the boy's thigh. Keone said nothing, sipping his soda suddenly a major priority. You gots a dude feeling on yo' leg, Keone thought. But he couldn't deny it felt good.
Sean slowly inched his hand toward the boy's basket, his own heart racing. When it finally made contact with the boy's confined dick, he discovered it was hard, coiled beneath the fabric of the boy's shorts. Taking slow, deliberate moves, Sean inspected the bulge, swelling within the boy's pants. Keone gazed at the man's hand, working across his trapped dick, enthralled, his soda held precariously high in his left hand. Making a bold move, Sean added his other hand to the one groping the boy's groin, swiftly unfastening his shorts. His shorts laid open, Sean gripped the boy's writhing dick through his briefs, desperately desiring to whip it out and swallow it. Keone finally took another swig of his soda, trying to maintain his cool.
"You want to go to the bathroom?" Sean solicited.
"What for?" Keone countermanded.
"So your daddy can give you a bath," Sean purred.
"A bath!!"
Groping his dick, Sean continued, "Yeah, I like doing that with my boys. You know, 'Black Son Wanted.'"
"Oh yeah." Keone said, remembering the ad. Sean had unfurled the boy's dick within his briefs, now, his hand seductively massaging it.
"So, what say we go to the bathroom, ok?" His dick torturously hard now, Keone wasn't in charge of his faculties anymore. He just wanted homeboy to suck it for him now. Hoping that if he went to the bathroom with him, he'd suck in there, he relented, hunching his shoulders indifferently.
Sean stood, leading Keone into his bedroom.
"Sit down on the bed, ok?" he said, directing Keone to his bed. Keone sat, his dick poking the front of his shorts out.
"Wait right there."
There was a bathroom attached to the bedroom and as Keone listened, the sound of running water started. When Sean returned Keone was shocked to see he'd removed all his clothes. He surveyed the man's body, his rippling physique breathtaking. Having never allowed himself to really look at a man before, he soon found that he was getting very aroused. Standing over him, Sean removed Keone's T-shirt, pulling it over his head. Kneeling, he removed his sneakers, and then his socks. Keone hadn't been undressed by anyone since he was a little boy and being undressed by the man proved very erotic. After removing the boy's socks, Sean ran his fingers over the sole of his foot, sending tingles up his spine.
"You ticklish?" Sean said, tickling the boy's foot. Keone was surprised to hear himself giggle. What the fuck am I doing, he thought? Hearing the slight giggle from the boy, Sean tickled his foot again. Keone giggled again, eventually snatching his foot away from the man's assaulting hands. Standing, Sean pulled Keone up, the prominent protrusion in his shorts shocking the boy. How is that possible? he thought, looking at it.
Sean saw it too, commenting, "Somebody likes having their feet tickled, huh?"
He brought his hand to the boy's dick, caressing it through his shorts. The touch of the man's hand on his dick was exquisite, emitting a soft hiss from Keone. Sean rubbed the boy's dick again, Keone's pelvis slowly swinging forward in turn. He pulled Keone's shorts and boxers down, Keone marveling at what it felt like to be naked with a man.
"Ooh! Uncircumcised huh? I like that," Sean said. Gently he pulled the boy's foreskin over the enlarged head of his jutting pole. Slowly, his fingers started working the length of it. Keone couldn't have prepared himself for what he was feeling, the touch of another on his dick almost overwhelming. Gripping Keone's hard dick, Sean pulled him into the bathroom. He released his dick stooping to turn the water off. Running his hands through the water he remarked,
"Just right, baby. Alright, get in the water."
Obeying, Keone wondered, why am I letting this freak boss me around? The water was just right, its warmth like many massaging fingers to his skin. Sitting he looked up at the man who was lathering up a towel. He gon' really give me a bath, Keone mused? To his great dismay, the man applied the soapy towel to his back, rubbing it vigorously. By the time he'd gotten to his groin, Keone was raging hard again.
"Lay back, baby," the man instructed. Keone reclined in the tub, resting his back against the cool porcelain. His dick stood out from his groin, bobbing above the water. Sean leaned over him, ceasing his erect pole. Keone watched, mesmerized. He gon' suck it now? he prayed, his dick throbbing. Sean gently peeled the foreskin back, exposing his pink-red knob. Scooping up a handful of water, he let it fall over his sensitive glans. Scooping up another handful, he repeated the action.
Keone lay in the water, his dick throbbing, the unexpected stimuli of having someone else service it unbelievable. Observing how engorged the boy's dick had gotten, and the way his chest was rapidly rising and falling, Sean's razor sharp senses alerted him the boy was very near cumming. Releasing Keone's dick, he squeezed his balls, exerting just enough pressure to thwart his fast approaching orgasm. Keone's eyes popped open, his face twisted mildly in discomfort. When Sean was satisfied the boy's hair-trigger response had been averted, he massaged the boy's balls tenderly. Keone lay back, his eyes closed, his legs falling open. Watching his reaction, Sean reveled in the way the boy's young body helplessly yielded to his ministrations.
"Scoot down in the water, and spread your legs, junior," he urged.
Approving of what the man had done so far, Keone obliged, lifting his legs from the water and planting his feet atop the sides of the tub. Sean about lost it at that point. The sight of the boy's cocoa brown legs lifting out the water, rivulets of water dripping off his feet, would be an image he would play in his mind a thousand times. His feet having been submersed in the hot water created an almost fiery, pinkish-red effect in the soles. Sean fought the urge to lick every droplet of water off the boy's feet, certain that such deviant behavior would no doubt freak him out. Instead he greedily fondled the boy's feet, clumsily swabbing the towel across them, praying the boy wouldn't see through his ploy. Soaping Keone's long foot, Sean's dick grew so hard, it hurt. Holding his foot high, Sean encircled its long toes individually with his fingers. Keone's foot doubled over to the sensation, the sole forming lush wrinkles. What thrilled Sean the most, however, was that his dick never lost its throbbing erection.
"Dang man, what is it with you and my feet?" Keone snapped, his face a question mark.
Sean reluctantly left the boy's feet, returning to his balls. Soaping them up, he rolled them around on his fingertips, charmed with how they fit his cupped hands. The widespread position of the boy's legs gave Sean full access to his virginal asshole and under the guise of washing him, he lathered up the tight socket, sliding his soapy finger back and forth across it. Stimulated by the man's lewd fondling, Keone rocked his pelvis slightly, raking his tight rosebud across the man's delving finger. His mind was incapable of considering the implications of what having a total stranger stroke your asshole meant, let alone letting him give you a bath! All that mattered was how good all this was feeling.
"Turn over and get up on your knees, junior."
Without thinking, Keone obeyed, flipping over in the water, raising up on all fours and presenting Sean another image to fantasize about for ages to come. Watching the water cascade down Keone's body, some of it rippling between his round ass cheeks, Sean was convinced of two things: 1. He simply had to have this cocoa brown angel over again, and 2. He'd have to break down and by that video camera he'd been meaning to buy! When Keone was in position, Sean commenced lathering up his backside, eventually arriving at the boy's upturned ass. Sean took his time, deliberately lingering over the twin globes, playing with them, lathering them, rinsing them, mesmerized by them. He would run his hand all the way down Keone's crack, slicing his finger across his puckered asshole, and then between the boy's legs, fondling his balls, and gripping his stiff dick, stroking it a couple of times.
All of the mountains of stimulation Keone were experiencing served to frustrate and delight him at the same time. While his dick was begging for release, his body was thoroughly enjoying all the new sensations. He'd never been this raw-assed, helplessly hot before in his life!
"Alright, that's all," Sean declared, standing up. "Why don't you step outta the tub?"
Standing, Keone stepped out, water running down his legs and pooling at his feet. Sean fetched a towel, seductively swabbing his body, tweaking his nipples until they stood out, firm and erect, and otherwise copping feels on the boy while he dried him. Leading him back into the room, Sean joined Keone on the bed. Having a teenage boy in his room again, the first time in a long time, was becoming more than Sean could handle. He stilled himself, seizing the boy's dick, stroking it for him. Keone lay back on his elbows, his legs spread, hardly able to contain himself. He don't suck my dick soon, and I'ma shoot all over him, he thought.
Sean stroked his dick a little longer, prolonging the boy's anxiety. Finally, he got between the boy's legs, slowly enveloping Keone's dick in his warm, velvet soft mouth.
"Ahhh!" Keone groaned, nearly jumping off the bed.
"God damn!" he growled, his body stiffening, his butt slightly raising off the bed.
The man's mouth on his dick went way beyond his wildest expectations. His breath became ragged his whole being seemingly pulled up and into his dick.
Sean held on tight, the boy's moan's exciting him.
"Ssss… Aaah!" Keone hissed, and moaned, his dick swelling in the man's mouth. The sensations were so intense, he started wriggling, spreading his legs, wanting more of his dick down the man's throat. Sean's hot mouth locked down on the boy, desperately attempting to bring him off. Caressing his taut balls, he sucked, whipping his tongue around the head of the boy's raw dick. Keone flung his legs spread eagle, his dangling feet wildly dancing about Sean's ears.
"I'm coming!!" he yelped, his body bucking. Sean slammed the boy's dick into the back of his throat, the writhing muscles vibrating on the boy's swelling dick. Keone raised his head, his eyes riveted on the man's sucking mouth, wondering why he didn't release him. Didn't he hear me say I was coming? He heard himself cry out as the man's convulsing throat muscles squeezed his dick, milking the cum out. Bucking and writhing, his dick leaped in the man's mouth. Sean clamped down, his throat gripping the head of his dick like a vise. Shaking like a leaf, Keone erupted, his dick spurting his precious seed down the man's throat. Keone gawked at the man as he gulped, his thirst insatiable. Would he ever stop cumming? This shit is da bomb! he thought, his fiery dick rocketing off. Grunting and moaning, he emptied his dick, Sean swallowing furiously, desperately trying to catch every last drop of the boy's potent issue.
Finally, Keone fell back on the bed, his dick still convulsing, the poor thing sucked bone-dry by the man's talented mouth. His eyes closed, his breathing ragged, he still could not believing what his body had just felt. His body quivering, he hissed again when Sean slipped his mouth off his writhing dick.
Sean sat on his knees, gasping, Keone's erotic reaction stimulating him to no end. His dick throbbing between his legs, paining for release, he stroked it, staring at the boy's deflating organ. Unable to contain his lust, he caressed Keone's leg, traveling up toward his semi-hard dick.
"What you doin???" Keone cried, sitting up. Sean didn't reply, his own desire exponentially out of control. Stroking his dick, he tried to lay atop the boy.
Feeling the man's hard, wet dick sliding across his leg, Keone protested, "Get off, me! "
Weak with desire, Sean failed to heed the boy's warnings. Disgusted, Keone wrestled with the man, desperately trying to free himself from his determined advances. When he felt Sean's dick spurting on his groin, however, he went ballistic.
"GET OFF ME, FAGGOT!!" Keone screamed, pummeling him with his fists. Sean fell off him, his dick still spurting, bruises on his face.
"The fuck is wrong with you, faggot?"
Enraged, Keone laid into him, releasing several quick-fire punches to the unsuspecting man's face. Sean screamed in terror, scrambling across the bed dodging the incensed boy's blows. Stepping around the bed to where the petrified man lay, Keone kicked him in the groin. Sean let out a bloodcurdling scream, gripping his battered genitals. His effeminate screams enraging him more, Keone delivered more kicks to the man's midsection.
"Punk ass, faggot!" he yelled, stomping the man.
Sean writhed around on the floor, screaming and yelling for help. Alarmed by his shrieking, Keone got in the man's face and shouted,
"Shut the fuck up, bitch!"
Looking down he noticed the splotches of cum, splattered across his midsection.
"Look at what you did!" he screamed.
"I oughta make you lick it up!"
Seeking compensation for his bruised ego, Keone demanded, "Where yo money at, bitch?"
"In my wallet!" Sean squealed.
"In my pants in the bathroom," he continued, pointing to the bathroom. Keone stomped into the bathroom, his deflated dick flailing about, leaving the panic stricken man.
As soon as the boy was out of the room, Sean grabbed his telephone and dialed 911. Praying someone would answer before Keone returned, he waited for the other end to pick up.
"911 operator."
"There's a thief in my house!" Sean whispered, urgently. "Please send somebody to help me, he's going to kill me!!"
"Is he there now?"
"Yes!! Please hurry!!" he cried, peeping over the bed …
Entering the bathroom, Keone spied the man's jeans, strewn in a corner of the bathroom. Picking them up, he rifled through the pockets. In his left front pocket he found a laminated card of some type. 'Mid-Towne Spa', was written in bold type, and beneath that it said, 'This pass good for 6 months'. Naked men, standing in lewdly suggestive poses were drawn in the background causing Keone to suspect this place must be for faggots. Throwing the card on the floor, Keone mumbled,
"God damn faggot. How much dick do he need, anyway?" Searching the back pocket, he located the man's wallet. Snatching the money out of it, he tossed it on the floor, too. Catching his reflection in the mirror, Keone saw the cum stains, strewn across his midsection. Grabbing a towel he wiped the man's cum off, despising the site of it.
He returned to the room where still Sean lay wide-eyed and frightened on the floor. Snatching his boxers on, Keone ordered,
"You got any jewelry, punk?"
Sean tearfully removed his expensive watch, extending it to the boy. Keone snatched it, a look of utter derision on his face.
"That's it?!!"
"I don't HAVE anything else!" Sean pleaded.
"You a God damn lie!" Keone barked.
Ripping the dresser drawer open, he tossed the contents out, hunting for anything of value. Spying a gold watch, he dumped it in his pocket along with the one he'd taken from Sean. His greed overtaking him, he turned to search the other drawers. Noticing a silver bracelet on the dresser, he snatched it up, returning to the dresser drawers. Emptying more drawers, he confiscated anything he liked, including the man's High School ring. When he was fully satisfied he taken enough, he seized his shorts, pulling them on. While he was putting his socks and shoes on, he heard a thundering noise at the front door. Staring at the man, still cowering on the floor, Keone slowly grasped magnitude of his plight. Quickly tying his shoes, he jumped up, darting out the room.
Grabbing his robe, Sean ran to the front door, flinging it open.
"L.A.P.D.," the officer stated, "you called about an intruder?"
"Yes, he just ran out the back door!" Sean said, clutching his robe.
The officer leaped into action, sprinting through the house and out the back door.
Running for the backdoor, Keone exited, tearing across the backyard. Leaping the fence he heard footsteps hot in pursuit.
"He's back here, Leon!" the officer yelled, summoning his partner. Running like the wind, Keone ran down an alley, momentarily pulling ahead of the officer. At the end of the alley he turned right, racing down a residential street. He hadn't counted on another officer cutting him off with his cruiser, however. Slamming into the car, Keone felt his knee dash against the fender, the officer leaping out the car, gun drawn.
"Put your hands up!" he yelled. The first officer caught up with them, grabbing the boy's high raised hands and manacling them behind his back, slinging him against the hot metal of the still running car.