BENJAMIN

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BENJAMIN

A short story by Ivor Sukwell

 

"Out! Get the fuck out!" his stepfather screamed as he hurled Benjamin out the, fortunately open, front door. Literally hurled him; one hand gripping the collar of his tee-shirt, the other the waist band of his jeans and lifting the boy clean off his feet as he threw him.

The throw was a little off-centre and Benjamin landed in a flower bed and not on the brick and concrete steps so the physical damage was minimal.

"Fuck off, you little cunt," Benjamin's stepfather screamed again, "And fucking stay fucked off!"

"Fucking will!" Benjamin yelled back before scrambling to his feet, "Fucking hate you, you fucking bastard!"

Shouting matches between Benjamin and his step-father were no new thing; it had been a simple case of mutual hate at first sight two years ago when Benjamin first saw the man who was to become his mother's new husband and his step-father.

There had been no actual reason for it, simply that boy and man set eyes on each other and hated what they saw, and both had nursed and nurtured that hatred through two tempestuous years.

Twelve-year-old Benjamin had not been the perfect almost teen boy, but he did live in Redland and not all the boys living in Redland were perfect. He'd been without a father to control him for six years and was as cocky and arrogant as any of his peers. His teachers had little effect on him, possibly because they saw very little of him; school did not excite Benjamin and so school was somewhere he went only when he had nothing better to do, and, usually, doing nothing was better than going to school.

Two years of dragging himself out of bed somewhere around mid-afternoon, wandering down into the city centre to make a nuisance of himself in the company of other, like-minded early teens; discovering the relaxing pleasures of alcohol and weed up on Clifton Downs and staggering home in the early morning hours, entering the house through the back door that was always left unlocked for him, interspersed with violent arguments with his loathed and loathsome stepfather, resulted in Benjamin becoming a thoroughly unlikeable boy of fourteen.

It didn't bother Benjamin in the slightest that nobody outside of his little group of like-minded teenage friends disliked him intensely. Their dislike simply confirmed his belief that he was always right and the rest of the world was made up of cunts like his stepfather. He'd do what he wanted when he wanted and bollocks to anyone who didn't like it.

It didn't really upset Benjamin to be hurled out the front door and into a flower bed; it annoyed him, of course it did. It just wasn't fair, was it, that his step-father could pick him up and literally throw him out, just because his step-father was in his mid-thirties and built like the proverbial brick shithouse and he was fourteen and built like a bamboo cane. It just showed how unfair life was.

Not a problem, though; he'd just wait for a couple of hours till he knew his step-father would be in a pub somewhere, go back in through the back door, up to his room and carry on playing with his Xbox as though nothing had happened.

And that was when he came across a problem. The back door was locked! The back door was never locked! But now it was! What the fuck did they think they were doing, locking him out!

All problems have a solution and the solution to this problem was simple. A brick through a window, right at the bottom where he could get at the catch that held the casement window shut, push up the window and in he went.

It did mean he had to change his plans a bit, though, because he obviously couldn't go to his room and play on his Xbox. They'd go ape when they found the broken window, even though it was their fault it was broken. If his stupid mother hadn't locked the back door when she went out he wouldn't have had to break the window to get in, but they'd still blame him for breaking it. So unfair!

Obviously he'd have to spend a day or two away, let things calm down a bit. There was no chance of spending a night or two with any of his mates, they all had parents as stupid as his own and he'd never even get through a front door, let alone spend a night.

Roughing it up on the Downs it would have to be, so Benjamin went up to his room, grabbed his rucksack, stuffed his sleeping bag and a sweater in it and then went in search of other essentials for a few nights on the Downs.

A cupboard in the lounge yielded up an unopened carton of two hundred fags and a diligent search located fifty quid, enough to get him through three or four days and that, he thought, would be enough for things to settle down.

It wasn't.

When he returned home, expecting if not to be greeted with open arms and tears of joy by his mother, something rather better than the,

"You were told to fuck off and stay fucked off," she did greet him with.

"Yeah, and like where am I supposed to go?" he snarled.

"You can try your Aunt Joycel, she always had a soft spot for you, silly cowl," his mother suggested.

"Like Aunt Joycel lives in Southend, not fucking Brizzle," Benjamin pointed out.

(For those readers who live beyond shouting distance of Bristol, the locals tend to end all possible words with an `l', thus `Joyce' becomes `Joycel', `cow' becomes `cowl' and the city itself is `Brizzle' or sometimes, in posher places like Clifton, `Bristle')

"Tough," mother said.

"How the fuck I'm sposed to get there?"

"Walk."

And that was that. Door shut firmly in his face!

Now, Benjamin understood for the first time, he really did have a problem. He had enough fags for a few more days, but he was down to the last twenty of the fifty quid he'd nicked, and that, at a stretch, was only just about enough for three days' food from the burger van on the Downs.

Normally, nicking stuff like fags and Mars Bars from shops was no big deal, but he was getting a shade scruffy and, what with having to cart his rucksack around everywhere he went, he'd probably have a job even getting inside the sort of shop he could nick stuff from.

Fucking hell! Life was so fucking unfair!

He was contemplating the injustice of life, smoking one of his increasingly precious cigarettes when he was joined on what he had come to regard as `his bench' on the Downs.

The guy who joined him was obviously one of the great unwashed who inhabited the Downs in the summer months, not the sort of person Benjamin would, under normal circumstances, have even allowed himself to notice.

"Done a runner, then, kid?" the guy asked, pleasantly enough.

"No I fucking haven't!" Benjamin snarled.

Well, from the look of you, you ain't up here for the fun of it."

"Got kicked out, didn't I, if you really must know."

"Rough," the guy commented.

"Fucking is!" Benjamin snarled again, "Fucking rough and fucking unfair!"

"Life isn't fair, kid, something you need to learn fast."

"Tell me about it!" Just for a moment self-pity softened Benjamin's snarl.

"You tell me about it," was the answer, and Benjamin did.

Self-pity perhaps, some hope for sympathy, or perhaps it was because the guy reached into a pocket of the long coat he was wearing and pulled out a flat tin, took a packet of cigarette papers from it and carefully joined three of them together in the traditional way. Benjamin was willing to talk to a guy who knew how to roll a joint; anyone who knew how to do that couldn't be a complete cunt, and if he had the necessary to complete his manufacture and Benjamin could cadge a toke or two, then he wasn't a cunt at all.

"You should be okay for a while at least," the guy said, blowing out aromatic smoke, "Chicken hawks everywhere looking for a bit of meat like you."

"You what?" Benjamin seriously didn't have an idea what the guy was talking about.

"You," the guy explained carefully, "Are a chicken, and the guys who like chickens are the hawks."

Still Benjamin did not understand. His world was `Call of Duty' and `Game of War' and there were no chickens or hawks in either of them.

The guy thoughtfully passed across his joint in the hope that a decent toke would be an aid to comprehension, and tried again.

"A chicken," he explained, "Is a schoolboy. A `spring chicken' is a young schoolboy. You, I reckon, have made it to chicken status."

"I'm fourteen," Benjamin clarified.

"Chicken then," the guy confirmed.

"So what?"

"So it means you got something the hawks want."

"Like what?"

"Like your cock and your arse. What else?"

"But I'm not gay," Benjamin said with something approaching conviction.

He didn't think he was, in fact he was pretty sure he wasn't. In reality Benjamin's only practical experience of sex was the use of his right hand just occasionally his left for a bit of variation and outside stimulation limited to occasional pictures of over-inflated mammary glands. `Game of War' and `Call of Duty' were about blowing things up and killing people, nothing to do with sex at all.

"That's not going to bother them; they won't give a toss if you're straight or gay or get your kicks from screwing canaries. Only things that'll interest them are your cock, your arse, your hand and your mouth."

"I wouldn't do any stuff like that," Benjamin stated, at last understanding what the guy was talking about.

"Starve, then," the guy shrugged.

"What you mean, starve?"

"How else you gonna get the money to eat? Ain't no-one gonna come along and drop a food parcel in your lap for you."

That particular bit of reality had occurred to Benjamin, but he'd done his best to ignore it.

"This is Tory Britain you're living in, kid. People like us don't exist, and if we don't exist then no-one has to do anything to help us, do they?"

"How do you eat, then?" Benjamin dared to ask, "You certainly ain't no chicken are you."

"You're smoking it, kid. If you know where to get it and you got the money to buy it, then you can sell it. At a profit, of course."

"Oh," Benjamin said, his eyes begging for another toke.

"I could do that, then," he stated after drawing deep, "Same as you, buy and sell weed."

"And where would you get the money to buy it with?"

"Oh," said Benjamin again, a future career crashing around him.

"You got something to sell, kid; sooner you get round to doing it the better."

"I don't think I could," Benjamin said after thinking about it while he had a second drag, "I mean........." Since he couldn't explain exactly what he meant, he didn't try.

"Simple economics, kid," the guy explained, taking back what was left of his joint, "You're already a bit scruffy and starting to get smelly, but still marketable. Say a fiver for wanking a guy, tenner for sucking him, tenner for letting him have your cock and twenty for your arse. Leave it a few more days and you can halve that at best."

"I couldn't," Benjamin said, quite sure that he couldn't.

"Do a couple of hawks, pick up fifty quid or so, get yourself cleaned up and you can double the charges. Money to be made kid."

"I couldn't," Benjamin repeated.

"Think about it, kid. May see you here again tomorrow perhaps."

And he was gone, leaving Benjamin with quite a lot to think about.

 

He crawled into his sleeping bag while it was still twilight. He'd found a neat little spot in a clump of bushes not far from his bench and the bushes kept the chill of the evening breeze from bothering him. There was always a breeze in the evening, in the mornings as well; it came up the river from the sea and it could be quite cold sometimes, but unless it got really windy, the bushes kept it from him.

There was always rustling in the bushes; the night time creatures like hedgehogs `chucky pigs' everyone called them and smaller things like shrews, little furry creatures that came out at night looking for a juicy snail or something like that they could eat.

Eat.

That was his problem; eating. He was alright for tomorrow; he had enough left for a bacon sarnie in the morning and a burger later but then that was it. No more money.

He hadn't expected it to be like this. He'd thought at first that it was a bit of a laugh in a way, a couple of days up on the Downs and then back home again. But it wasn't going to be, not now. Not after his mother had told him to fuck off as well. He wasn't going to go back home, everything forgotten till the next time. He was on his own.

Not only was he on his own, no-one was going to help him. That guy with the weed had made that clear enough. He was invisible, he didn't exist.

He'd had a couple of fags thinking about that after the guy had left, and he was right. Twice a police car had gone by and they never even glanced in his direction. A fourteen-year-old boy, obviously homeless, lolling on a park bench, smoking a fag and he wasn't even worth a glance. He was too young to be smoking and they hadn't even noticed him!

Other people as well; blokes going through the Downs, heading for Clifton, women walking dogs, none of them so much as looked at him.

One or two people did though. He spotted that after a bit. Blokes. Blokes on their own, trying to look casual. They looked. They must be the hawks the weed guy had been on about, sizing him up.

Limited as his understanding of such things was, Benjamin realised that they were not true hawks. Hawks were proud, majestic birds wheeling up high in the sky, waiting for some young, tasty innocent creature to swoop on. No, those blokes weren't hawks; they'd have swooped long ago if they were, pounced on him before he was all scruffy and smelly. And he was smelly; if he stuck his face inside his sleeping bag he could smell himself and it wasn't a nice smell.

Those blokes were vultures, not hawks. They were waiting till he was too far gone, too hungry to resist, willing to do anything just for a bite to eat. Then they'd swoop on him, do whatever it was that blokes like that did to helpless boys.

Well, he wasn't helpless, not yet.

He would be soon, though, unless he did something about it.

Could he? Could he actually do something about it? Could he do what the weed guy had said he should do, what it had seemed so obvious to the weed guy that he would do?

He undid the top button of his jeans, pulled down the zip and slipped his hand inside, feeling his cock and trying to imagine what it would be like to have someone else feeling it for him, some bloke wanking him.

He'd never thought anything like that before, never had to. Never had the slightest urge to let a bloke feel his cock, wank him. Not even wondered what it would be like to wank with another boy. Wanking was something you did for yourself.

Would it be really bad, though? Yeah, it was bad in that it wasn't something you were supposed to do, let blokes have your cock, but some boys did. Not that he knew any who did, of course, but it was always in the papers and stuff about blokes doing stuff with boys and it was a dead cert that all those boys what had their cocks wanked by blokes weren't screaming "No, don't!" when it happened, were they.

It weren't legal, of course, that's why it was in the papers. But it not being legal didn't bother him. He skived school almost every day and that weren't legal. He nicked stuff from shops and that weren't legal neither, so it didn't bother him none that a bloke feeling his cock weren't legal. And, anyway, he didn't exist, he was invisible. The fucking plod didn't even notice him when they drove past so they weren't gonna give a toss if he was having his cock felt up were they!

That was the only thing, weren't it. Did he want his cock felt up? Nah, if he were honest, it didn't matter fuck all if he wanted it or not, it were could he do it that were the problem.

He played with his cock, not wanking it, just feeling it and playing around with it, trying to imagine again that it weren't his hand, and then that it were his hand but it weren't his cock.

He did quite like the way his cock felt in his hand. Spose he always had, really, ever since he first discovered playing with it. Wouldn't play with it if he didn't, would he. Praps, just praps mind, it might feel okay if it were being played with for him. Like he didn't have to think about that it were a bloke doing it; he could keep his eyes shut like, no problem and just let it happen. Never know, it might feel even better if it weren't his own hand.

Course, it might not just be having it played with; the bloke might want to suck him.

Yeah, he could cope with that. It was sposed to be amazing having your cock sucked and so what it if was a bloke's mouth? He'd have his eyes shut, wouldn't he, so it wouldn't matter.

What about if the bloke wanted his cock wanked? Well, he thought as he gave his own cock a squeeze, a cock's a cock, ain't it; won't feel any different to his own, would it. Be sorta the same, really. Yeah, he could cope with that.

Not sucking a bloke though! No way! Not doing that!

Not his arse, either! Fuck that! Just cock, nothing more!

So there it was then. Yeah, he'd be alright. Make a few quid with his cock. Tenner a time for his cock. He could spunk up four or five times a day easy, so that was fifty quid a day. And another tenner for wanking the bloke what was doing him. He could get a ton a day!

Fucking hell! It was so fucking easy! Just get wanked and do a bit of wanking someone else and pick up a ton a day! He'd be fucking rich by the end of the summer and give up doing it, go into selling weed instead!

He didn't even finish his wank, save the spunk for tomorrow, he thought. Probably manage six tomorrow that way.

He'd have to clean himself up a bit, though, cos the weed guy were right. Blokes'd fancy him more if he weren't smelly.

 

Even on the ground in a sleeping bag it wasn't usual for Benjamin to rise early. At home, when he used to have such a place, two in the afternoon was early, and here, up on Clifton Downs, he rarely crawled back into the world before ten. This time it was different. He was awake and out of his bag by seven!

He shivered a bit, because even in summer it's not warm that early in the day, but filled with a new determination, he shoved his sleeping bag in his rucksack and made his way across the dewy wet grass to the toilet block.

Not a nice toilet block, in fact a very smelly toilet block, but it was all there was available. He used it every day for a shit and was no longer repelled by the combined odours of stale urine and cheap, Council bleach.

His underwear, he reflected gloomily as he viewed it around his ankles, was disgusting. No-one, not even one of the vultures, would want to grab a handful of what was usually inside his stained briefs.

He finished his shit, cleaned himself with far more care than he had ever done before, removed jeans and filthy briefs, tossed briefs into a corner of the cubicle, consigning them to history. If things went well, Benjamin reasoned, they'd spend more time round his ankles than his waist anyway, so they might as well be disposed of and not be worn at all, especially as they'd be a serious obstacle to him in his new line of work.

Clutching his jeans, Benjamin made his way to the single, cracked sink the toilet block possessed and washed. Yes, washed! He removed his top layers, also not over-clean, stood naked and washed. Under his arms, carefully and thoroughly around his groin, his face and, incredible even to Benjamin, his hair!

The end result was far from perfect, but smelt an awful lot better.

It felt a bit odd having nothing on under his jeans, odd but not unpleasant. He'd have to be careful undoing his zip though, he didn't fancy getting certain anatomical parts caught in it!

Nothing he could do about his upper body clothing, he had no alternatives and it was still chilly, but once the sun was properly up he could take it off and sit bare chested. That might, he thought, make him more visible to any hawks that circled around and Benjamin now wanted to be spotted by those hawks, and swooped on as often as possible. If his cock was worth money then his cock was up for grabs.

Benjamin didn't even consider the possibility of gayness, that was irrelevant; this was a purely commercial enterprise, a simple way of making money. In Benjamin's mind it had absolutely nothing to do with sex.

Dressed again, he headed off towards the burger van, now open for breakfasts, feeling quite cheerful and, in a way excited. Certain that he'd soon have a pocketful of cash, he ordered himself his usual bacon sarnie and take-away polystyrene cup of tea, and returned to his bench to devour it.

Usually Benjamin ignored his surroundings and the small number of people who passed through; today he did not. As he munched his breakfast and drank his tea his eyes were everywhere, hopefully searching for a hawk, and when he'd finished his sarnie and lit his post-meal fag, he started paying attention to the cars that went through as well.

There was always a fair amount of traffic early in the morning, though, being usually still in his sleeping bag, Benjamin had never noticed that before. People driving to work often took the detour across the Downs, frequently to grab their own breakfasts from the burger bar and eat them in the quiet of the open downland.

Every car that passed, Benjamin stared at, and if the driver happened to look in his direction, then Benjamin gave him a big smile. He wasn't really hopeful that a hawk would drive past, it was more that he was getting himself into the role of a chicken waiting to be swooped on.

He'd just tossed away the stub of his cigarette when a Range Rover passed by. With the twenty-mile-an-hour speed limit, cars went by quite slowly, which allowed Benjamin to get a good look at the drivers, and the driver of the Range Rover was, without a doubt, staring in Benjamin's direction.

On went the smile; it was getting easier to do each time, but the car carried on. A few minutes later it was going by again the driver must have looped round and come back, and why Benjamin was still wondering why he would have done that, the car stopped, driver's window went down and the driver was beckoning Benjamin over to him.

"How much?" the driver asked baldly as Benjamin reached the car.

It was a hawk! Benjamin had his first hawk swooping on him! So easy!

"Cock only," Benjamin ran through his much rehearsed lines, "Ten quid."

"Okay," the driver agreed, looked all around, saw no-one about, and added, "Hop in, then. I'll go to the car park behind the toilets in case you're worried I'll drive off with you. It's nice and quiet there."

Clutching his rucksack, Benjamin clambered in and, moments later the driver did as he said he would and parked in the small car park behind the smelly toilets. He parked facing the bushes and Benjamin wondered why until he realised the rear windscreen and passenger windows were darkened so it was impossible for anyone to see inside.

Benjamin was nervous, but knowing he was on what was now `home ground', that he knew where he was and could, if he needed, open the car door and run to safety, kept his nervousness to just a hollow fluttering in his stomach as he waited for what was to come next.

It was fortunate for Benjamin that the hawk who had swooped upon him was not the least bit interested in Benjamin the boy, he was concerned only with the cock of boy, and he opened proceedings in the same blunt manner that he'd used when he first swooped. Had he gone for a fumble over jeans covered cock it may have brought the reality of events searing into Benjamin's mind; that this was a sexual thing, and a sexual thing of a nature that, less than twenty-four hours ago, Benjamin would have rejected as sickening and disgusting.

That did not happen.

"Get `em down then, boy," the hawk said almost dispassionately, "Let's see what you've got on offer."

Benjamin sucked in his breath, undid the top button of his jeans, lifted himself from the seat enough to be able to slide the zip down without endangering what was beneath, and struggled his jeans down to his ankles.

"Oh, very nice," the hawk said softly as Benjamin sat back to display his wares; three and a bit inches of soft, well-foreskinned cock below a neat, small nest of dark and curly hair, hanging limply over fourteen-year-old balls that appeared to be still innocent of any dark growth.

"Nice legs, too," the hawk commented and commenced activities by running his right hand over one slender and still hairless fourteen-year-old thigh.

Benjamin wasn't sure if he had included his legs in the deal or not; indeed, he had no idea why even a hawk would be interested in his legs, but the hand was warm on his skin, not in the least bit threatening, and even, possibly but only possibly, felt quite nice.

He didn't have long to ponder on if it was actually nice or not, and was therefore spared from dealing with the inevitable problem that, if it was nice it shouldn't be, because having his legs stroked by a man who must be at least fifty was inescapably gay and Benjamin was not gay.

"Ooooooohhhhhhhhhhh fuckin' shiiiiiiiiiiittttt!" was the sound that emerged from Benjamin's mouth when the hawk, having felt thigh, decided it was time to suck cock, taking Benjamin's softness into his mouth and rapidly, very rapidly, turning softness to hardness.

Benjamin's cock went from `At Ease' to `Attention' with a smartness and alacrity that would have brought a purr of satisfaction from the lips of the most belligerent drill sergeant and produced a "Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm," of appreciation from the hawk who had the now fully-grown item in his mouth.

Benjamin's mind was in a whirl. His cock had never been sucked before and he had no real idea of what to expect when it was. He knew, in a vague sort of way, that it was supposed to feel good, but `feel good' got nowhere near describing the feelings and sensations he was getting from having his cock in someone's mouth. It didn't matter one tiny, miniscule bit that it was a man's mouth or that the man was almost old enough to be his grandparent; it was a mouth and it was sucking his cock and it felt incredible!

The hawk paused in his oral administrations, causing Benjamin to emit a little whimper of dismay, but it was a pause only long enough for the hawk to admire chicken cock, now four-and-a-half inches of saliva glistening, hooded and throbbing wonder.

"Lovely cock, kid," the hawk complimented and returned to enjoying chicken cock with his mouth.

Benjamin had not wanked the night before, he had not wanked this morning and Benjamin was fourteen; no way was he going to last for long with his cock in a mouth , especially in the mouth of a hawk well-experienced in extracting cream of boy from chicken cocks

"Aaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh," Benjamin gasped as lips peeled back his cock-hood; Ooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhh," he moaned as hawk tongue flickered around the exposed head of chicken cock; "Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeesssssssssssssss," he breathed as hawk lips eased hood back up and then slid it down again so tongue could flick its magic all around.

"I'll spunk if you keep doing that," he managed to gasp as his balls began to churn, but his warning was acknowledged only by a squeezing of his slender, smooth thigh and a fondling of his hairless balls.

"I'm cu............." Benjamin got no further. His balls contracted, his legs stiffened, his stomach was sucked in and his cock jetted forth.

The mouth never left his cock while he spurted, and spurt he did.

When the final cock spasm was over the hawk's mouth left his cock and hawk fingers eased his foreskin up and down, coaxing forth any final oozing for hawk tongue to pounce on and lick clean.

"Yummy cum, kid," the hawk observed, "Decent mouthful as well."

"Well worth every penny," the hawk said as he passed a ten pound note to Benjamin, who still had his jeans round his ankles. "You be around tomorrow by any chance?"

Benjamin nodded the affirmative, agreed to be here in the little car park at a quarter-to-eight tomorrow morning to earn another tenner, and managed to pull his jeans back up his still trembling body.

Breathing wasn't easy and his legs were a bit wobbly when he climbed out from the Range Rover, standing clear while it reversed and drove off without a backward glance.

Benjamin needed a fag, needed one bad and he made his somewhat unsteady way back to his bench, flopped, rather than simply sat, onto it, lit a fag and did some more thinking.

Benjamin was used to spunking he was fourteen and it wasn't like spunking was something that only happened on rare occasions but he'd never had a spunking like that! That had made wanking seem as exciting as picking his nose and it had left him completely drained!

Not only that, he'd enjoyed it. Bollocks to that, he'd loved it! He'd loved having his cock sucked!

Get real, he thought, you've just been sucked by some guy in his fifties, how can you possibly say you loved it?

Guys that age sucking a boy's cock is disgusting. Isn't it? It has to be. The guy could get locked up for doing that, so it must be wrong. Wrong, disgusting, horrible and gay!

That was the difficult bit; Benjamin had just done something gay!

He was pretty sure he wasn't gay; he'd never had a single gay thought before. Had he? He couldn't think of one. He'd never been interested in other boys' cocks, never wanted his own cock to be dealt with by a bloke, so why the fuck had he just enjoyed getting sucked off in the passenger seat of a Range Rover by some old bloke?

Of course, he hadn't done it in order to enjoy it, he'd done it for the cash, and doing it for cash was fine. No problem with that at all. But why had he enjoyed it? And not just enjoyed, but fucking loved it! It was the best spunking he'd ever had, so why the fuck was that?

Well, Benjamin reasoned, if every tenner he earned was for something as good as that one had been, bring on the next! One thing was dead certain no more wanking unless he couldn't get himself sucked!

Nah, Benjamin convinced himself as he lit another fag, getting sucked off by blokes weren't at all gay if you was doing it for cash and not cos it were sex. Course, it were handy if you liked getting sucked off, but just cos you liked having your cock sucked didn't mean you were gay.

 

"Smell better this morning," the weed guy said when he sat down beside Benjamin a little later.

No more hawks had appeared and Benjamin was feeling a bit bored, so he was okay with chatting to the weed guy, especially when that guy started joining up three fag papers again.

"Yeh," Benjamin shrugged, "Got up early and had a proper wash in the bogs."

"Did you?" the weed guy sounded like he was half-surprised.

"Well, as proper as you can in that stink hole," Benjamin clarified, "Water was fuckin' cold! Made me balls shrivel," he grinned.

"Oh, that good a wash, was it?"

"Yeh," Benjamin nodded. "Dumped me pants an' all cos they was well horrid."

"Did you now."

"Yeh," Benjamin sniggered, "Gotta be careful with me zip now, though."

"And why did you go to all that trouble?" the weed guy asked as he rolled.

"You know why," Benjamin blushed, "You told me to."

"So I did," the weed guy agreed, "And you thought about it and decided you like eating."

"Something like that," Benjamin confirmed. "Got me first hawk this morning," he said, a mixture of pride and embarrassment.

"Did you, indeed."

"Yeh, some old bloke in a Range Rover. Sucked me off behind the bogs. An' he wants to do me again tomorrow."

"Will you?"

"Course I fuckin' will," Benjamin snorted, "Tenner for getting sucked. Easy money."

"Easy if you don't mind doing it."

"Course. But I reckon I can manage."

"Just sucked you? Nothing else?"

"Nah," Benjamin boasted, "Told him straight off it were just me cock an' it'd cost him a tenner. I spunked in his mouth an' all," he giggled.

"Yes," the weed guy said, "They like it when you do that."

"He did," Benjamin grinned, "An' like I said, he wants another mouthful tomorrow."

"Regulars are good," the weed guy commented, "Helps you plan your day."

"He's the only one so far," Benjamin sulked, "No-one else seems interested."

"Wrong time, kid," The weed guy passed over his joint, "Won't get much during office hours. Lunch time there'll be a few about and some around after five. Nights are best, from around ten onwards."

"Right," Benjamin stored away the information. "I thought I'd go topless as soon as it's warm enough, see if that attracts any."

"Not a bad idea, kid, but you need to up the price if you do that. Once they got your jeans down you'll be just about naked, so try for fifteen for anything frontal they want."

"Only going to want cock, aren't they?" Benjamin asked, "Nothing else to have."

The weed guy grinned knowingly, "You'll find out, kid," he said.

Benjamin discovered something new at lunch time from a hawk in a BMW; he found out what a hawk's cock felt like.

"Fifteen, front only," he said to the hawk who wanted to know about having his own cock done as well. "Another ten to toss you," Benjamin told him and proceeded to add twenty five quid to the ten he'd earned just after breakfast.

It really was very easy money. He got himself sucked off again and found that he didn't at all mind wanking hawk cock; surprisingly a cock that wasn't his own felt really quite good in his hand and the guy got quite worked up when Benjamin tossed him while he was being sucked. It was obviously the right thing to do because the hawk parted with twenty five quid without a murmur, indeed pronounced himself very satisfied with money well spent.

The five o'clock hawks didn't seem to be around though, there was only one in a Mercedes who offered Benjamin thirty if he'd suck the hawk off, but Benjamin turned that one down he wasn't ready to suck cock, not yet, anyway.

He did think about it, though, that night in his sleeping bag. He didn't have the nerve to try for the night hawks, even though the weed guy had said that night time was when most of them came out. He'd picked up thirty five quid and could have added another thirty if he'd been willing to suck cock, and would sucking a cock be that bad? It certainly felt great being sucked and the guys who'd sucked him had obviously enjoyed it, so perhaps he was being a bit stupid in not doing it and turning money away. Suck well, possibly yes, but a mouthful of spunk definitely not! He could always come off when the guy got close and finish him off by hand; yeh, he thought he'd be able to manage that, for thirty quid, anyway.

Inside a week Benjamin was wealthy. Well, wealthy by his standards. He had a good hundred in notes at the bottom of his rucksack and didn't need to work for at least a week now. He didn't need to, but Benjamin had discovered that he quite liked his work. He hadn't even thought about wanking since he had his first blow job but his balls were nowhere near overloaded. He spunked in some guy's mouth at least twice every day the Range Rover was a breakfast regular and he'd actually sucked a cock and it wasn't bad at all. He hadn't let the hawk spunk in his mouth, of course, but he'd given him a decent a sucking as his inexperienced mouth could manage and was certainly up for doing that again. Forty quid for sucking the guy for a bit, then getting sucked and his spunk eaten, then finishing the bloke off by hand after, that was decent money all said and done.

 

Benjamin's big step along the primrose path to everlasting cock addiction happened on Friday evening.

As usual, Benjamin did not intend to work; he didn't need to as he'd been sucked three times that day and had two cocks, unspunking of course, in his own mouth and had consequently stashed another eighty notes in his rucksack. He wasn't working, he was simply sitting on his bench enjoying the evening. Warm enough to not need his sweater; the western, evening sky still a light blue tinged with pink from the recently set sun, it was an evening to relax, have a quiet smoke and reflect on the very satisfying fact that his cock had earned him the best part of two hundred quid in a day less than a week.

He only noticed the Porshe as it went past with an idle curiosity and a touch of almost professional curiosity as he wondered how awkward it might be to get sucked off in a car of that nature. Would there be sufficient room for driver mouth to engage with boy passenger cock?

Benjamin didn't even notice that the Porshe had stopped, parked on the grass so as not to obstruct the narrow road; not until he did notice that the driver was walking towards him and wasn't very far away.

He didn't instantly place the guy as a hawk because all the hawks so far had conducted arrangements without leaving their cars, and so he was a little suspicious when the guy reached him and asked, quite politely,

"Mind if I join you for a smoke?"

"Feel free," Benjamin said, but without his now customary hawk attracting smile.

This bloke wasn't behaving like a hawk and if he wasn't a hawk what was he? Why would anyone who wasn't a hawk want to sit and chat with a chicken?

He didn't look like a hawk either. In Benjamin's mind hawks were middle-aged at best and this guy was young, twenty something Benjamin guessed, and that was far too young for a guy to be out hawking.

The guy sparked up and two cigarette ends glowed red in the slowly deepening twilight.

"What time you have to be home?" the guy asked, the first thing he'd said since he sat down.

Well, that was a strange thing to ask, wasn't it? Hawks came straight to the point "What's on offer and how much?" was the usual hawk line.

"What's it to you?" Benjamin answered, not at all sure why the guy wanted to know when he was expected home.

"Just wondered what you're doing out and, I guess, wondering what you had planned for the evening." The guy said that quite pleasantly, seeming undisturbed by Benjamin's suspicions.

"Only just gone ten," Benjamin shrugged, "So it ain't really late."

"And your plans?" the guy persisted.

"Ain't got none," Benjamin said truthfully, "Get some kip later, I spose."

"When you get home," the guy said.

"Am home," the words just popped out of Benjamin's mouth; he hadn't meant to say them but they came out anyway.

"Thought you might be," the guy said, apparently more concerned with looking at the last of the sunset than at Benjamin. "Rucksack's a bit of a give-away," he grinned when Benjamin turned his head to stare, wondering how the fuck this guy had guessed.

"Yeh, well," was all Benjamin managed in reply.

"Run away or kicked out?"

"Kicked out."

"Any specific reason?"

There was a specific reason, and, encouraged by the offer of another fag, Benjamin told all.

"Rough," the guy said sympathetically when Benjamin had told all, "How you managing to survive?"

"How you think?" God, people could be so stupid sometimes! How many ways were there for a boy of fourteen to get enough money to eat?

"Right," the guy said, now looking up at the sky where the early stars were having a twinkle, "Can I tempt you with a bed tonight instead of this bench? Be a lot more comfortable."

"What I got to do for it?"

"Same as you do in the daytime, I guess."

"I don't do arse stuff," Benjamin stated, "Only cock."

"Fair enough."

"And I don't do it for free, either."

"Would a ton make the bed a bit more attractive?"

"Hundred quid? For sleeping with you and just me cock?"

"And my cock," the guy grinned, "It'd hate to be left out."

"Bet it would," Benjamin actually sniggered.

"You up for it?"

"Fuck, why not?" Benjamin agreed and had his first ride in a Porshe.

Benjamin failed to notice that Whiteladies Road had a faintly yellow tinge to it and that, as the Porshe headed out along the A4 in the direction of Bath, the yellow became deeper and more pronounced. In fact, by the time the Porshe reached Hick's Gate Roundabout and turned right towards Keynsham, the road was a definite primrose in hue.

Benjamin, naturally, had enquired as to where the Porshe was going and the response that,

"Live just on the edge of Keynsham, and don't worry, I'll drop you back off again in the morning if that's what you want," had satisfied his curiosity.

Negotiating through the city centre the guy had said that, as they'd be sharing a bed, they may just as well have names, and his was Marcus.

"Benjamin," Benjamin stated, "And it's Benjamin, not Ben."

"Quite a mouthful," Marcus had grinned.

"That's what you want, isn't it?" Benjamin grinned back, "Quite a mouthful."

"Definitely," Marcus agreed, "Several mouthfuls, in fact."

"Fine by me," Benjamin gave a mental shrug, "You're paying."

Benjamin was more than happy at the prospect of a hundred pounds, until, that is, the Porshe turned off the road and up a tarmac driveway, the deep yellow colour of which Benjamin, yet again, failed to notice. When the car stopped outside a large, detached, Georgian house he did wonder, for the first time, if he had accepted far too low an offer for his services. A house like that and a Porshe meant the guy must be loaded!

"First thing you need to do," Marcus said when they went through the front door and into a hallway that was at least as large as the lounge in the place where Benjamin used to live, "Is to have a bath. Don't mean to be rude, but living rough does leave its traces."

"Yeh, I know," Benjamin agreed, then told Marcus about his underwear.

"One less thing to wash, then," Marcus smiled. "Dump your stuff on the floor outside the door and I'll shove it in the machine. Be all clean and dry for you in the morning. And not like you'll be needing them this evening, is it," he said as he ushered Benjamin into a bathroom that seemed big enough to house a dozen baths. "I'll be in the kitchen fixing some food; eggs, sausage, beans and chips be okay?"

Too right it would be okay! Burgers were fine but it seemed like ages since Benjamin had eaten proper food.

"Just come on down when you're done. You'll find the kitchen if you follow your nose."

Benjamin had a really good wallow; there was even some smelly bath oil stuff that made loads of bubbles and some fancy shampoo for his dirty, matted hair.

The bathroom mirror, a full-length job, had some sort of fancy heater thing above it so it didn't steam up, and Benjamin admired his clean and dry body in front of it.

"Deffo worth a hundred quid if you're into that sort of thing," he said to his image, and confirmed that opinion by adding, "Fucking is!"

It was at that point that Benjamin realised that all he had to wear was his skin. He could wrap a towel round his middle, plenty of towels, but was there really any point? He was selling his cock, after all, so might just as well put the goods on display; if the bloke had wanted him to wear a towel he'd have said so, wouldn't he.

It was summer, the place was warm, so bollocks to it, and Benjamin stepped forth naked, in search of the kitchen.

That he'd made the right decision became obvious when he reached the kitchen and Marcus, who'd worn an apron for cooking, removed it and revealed himself dressed identically to Benjamin.

"Very nice," Marcus commented as he eyed naked Benjamin.

Benjamin said nothing, though he eyed naked Marcus, fascinated by the fact that Marcus had no body hair. No body hair at all!

"Hate pubes," Marcus said, knowing exactly where Benjamin was staring, and why. "Can't stand them."

Weird, thought Benjamin.

"Of course," Marcus was saying, "They can sometimes be useful. Like when you want to know how old a boy is, for example. You, I would guess from your pubic hair, are about fourteen."

"Yeh," Benjamin agreed, he was fourteen.

"Eat now, then we'll go in the other room, watch some telly and get to know each other a bit."

Fine by Benjamin he'd almost forgotten that there were such things as televisions.

Sunk into the depths of a sofa big enough for four, but with Marcus very close beside him, Benjamin thought he was about to start earning his money, and when Marcus put his left hand round slender, adolescent shoulder, Benjamin was sure of it. Marcus didn't go for cock though, he just eased Benjamin a little closer, into an almost cuddle, which Benjamin thought actually felt quite nice, popped a cigarette into both their mouths, lit them, and turned on the telly. Benjamin's eyes did a `Tom and Jerry', the `eyes on stalks' bit, as the sixty-inch monster screen came to life. Benjamin had expected something ordinary, a Terminator or an Aliens and Predators or something like that; what he had not expected was porn. And not simply porn, but gay porn, and not just gay porn but boy gay porn!

Assorted teenagers none could have been more than sixteen and a few who obviously hadn't yet made it to teen status, frolicked and cavorted across the huge screen, doing things Benjamin knew about and doing other things that Benjamin had no idea boys did with boys.

Wanking other boys, yes, fine, but cuddling up close, really close to each other? Sucking cock, yes, okay, he knew about that. Fucking arse? He knew it happened, but was shocked to see how much these boys seemed to enjoy it; and not just enjoy shoving their cocks up into other boys' arses, but having cock stuck in theirs as well!

What really blew his mind, though, was the kissing! Real, deep, tongues-in mouths kissing! Did boys do that with other boys? Well, obviously they did because they were doing it on the screen and getting well carried away by doing it!

"Fucking hell!" escaped from Benjamin's mouth in a long hiss as he stared at the screen, his fag completely forgotten for the moment, his mind unaware that his cock had risen to full length and was twitching in time with his heart beats.

"Watch out for the ash," dragged Benjamin back to reality.

Marcus was grinning at him as he sat, staring open-mouthed at the on-screen activities, an inch of ash dangling perilously from his unsmoked cigarette.

"Shit," Benjamin muttered, and carefully moved his right, cigarette-holing hand across his body to transfer the ash to the huge ash tray Marcus was holding out for him.

The careful movement of his hand inadvertently brushed his wrist over the tip of his very upright cock, the first understanding Benjamin had that he was hard, and with that came the understanding that he was hard from watching, with avid attention, boys doing very gay things with other boys.

Why was that? Benjamin wasn't gay; he was sure he wasn't gay. Not that he was in any way determinedly not gay, just that he wasn't. He was sure of it.

Or had been.

His eyes had to follow his ash-dangling cigarette all the way to the ash tray to be certain he'd manage to complete the operation, but where Marcus was holding the ash tray meant that his cock came into view as well, and Marcus, like Benjamin, had a very hard cock.

Benjamin looked, got rid of the ash and looked again. There was something fascinating about Marcus' cock; the way it stood out from his completely smooth pubis; the way it's six-and-a-half quite slender inches pointed ceilingwards, the way the foreskin almost, but not quite, concealed the eye beneath, the way it almost seemed to wink at him.

Benjamin had seen cock before, three or four in the past week; cocks that he had wanked and even sucked, but in his mind they hadn't really been cocks, they'd just been things he had to wank and suck to get cash. They'd meant absolutely nothing to him, but Marcus' cock was different. It was a cock, definitely and unmistakably a cock, so why was Benjamin staring at it so intently?

Fortunately, or, if you look at things in a different way, unfortunately for Benjamin, Marcus knew exactly what he was doing. Benjamin's were not the first boy-eyes to fasten on his cock and make boy-mind wonder if, after all, boy-hand might actually quite like to find out what Marcus cock felt like, boy-mouth to contemplate the possibility of tasting it. Marcus had been seducing boys since he was sixteen and his slender, perfect-for-boy-cherry-popping weapon had popped many a teenage cherry; and one or three that hadn't made it to being teen cherries yet as well.

Benjamin, of course, had no idea that he was in the hands of an expert boy-cherry popper, all Benjamin knew was that, for some unaccountable reason, Marcus' cock had a distinct appeal and he didn't know what to do about it. A wrong move now by Marcus and Benjamin would revert to a disinterested earner of cash, but Marcus was not given to making wrong moves when it came to encouraging boys to part with their all.

"Just grab a handful if you feel like it," Marcus encouraged, "And if you don't, then don't."

It was all the encouragement Benjamin needed; he could choose to feel that enticing cock or just ignore it; he wasn't being made to do it, not an enforced part of his cash obtaining deal.

"I'm not gay," Benjamin insisted as his hand moved without him telling it to.

"Course not," Marcus agreed, "You just fancy finding out what my cock feels like."

"Yeh," Benjamin acknowledged, "Something like that," and proceeded to do just that and satisfy his curiosity.

It felt nice in his hand; hard and warm yet at the same time soft and silky, the nicest cock by far that Benjamin had as yet, felt. He squeezed it, slowly rubbed it, fondled it and stroked it, and the more he did those things the more he found he was liking doing them. He helped himself to a handful of balls and that felt nice as well. Why should having a handful of a guy's balls feel nice? No idea, it just did.

Unconsciously Benjamin snuggled into Marcus just that bit closer; just to make it easier to feel cock and balls, of course, not for any other reason, and certainly not because being really close to Marcus, head now resting just below the guy's shoulder, felt really good; even though it did, actually, feel really good.

The hand softly squeezing his shoulder and moving slowly up and down his back and side, was both comforting and encouraging. The other hand, when it started softly stroking his hair made Benjamin feel as though, in some strange way, he was wanted. Not wanted like he was wanted by the hawks up on the Downs, wanted as a bit of chicken flesh to be used for gratification, paid and forgotten, but wanted because he was him, Benjamin, not just boy-flesh to use.

Benjamin was not used to feeling wanted.

He liked the feeling.

He'd do anything to hold onto that feeling.

Well, not anything, but certainly the things he was willing to do, and do them, not for the money, but because he wanted to try to make the guy who was stroking him so nicely, feel good about things; let him understand that, although Benjamin was being paid, he wasn't doing this for the cash. He needed the cash because he had to eat, but he was doing this because Marcus was a nice guy and seemed to like him, and that alone was enough to make him willing to do things.

On impulse Benjamin went down. He hadn't been told to suck, but he knew Marcus would like being sucked and that was reason enough. He didn't just suck, though. He held Marcus' cock in his hand and moved it against his face, brushing it around his smooth, fourteen-year old cheek, over his slightly pouted lips and over the other cheek, surprised at how good that felt.

How could it possibly feel good to brush a guy's cock all over your face?

It did, though, and Benjamin did it a few more times before opening his mouth and feeding cock inside it.

Somewhere in the back of Benjamin's mind was the understanding that this was the first cock he'd actually wanted in his mouth, and that, yes, no matter how he might try to avoid the fact, he did actually want it in his mouth; wanted to suck it.

Not just suck it, but to try to make it as good for the guy as he possibly could. He wanted Marcus to enjoy being sucked. No, not quite; he wanted Marcus to enjoy being sucked by him, by Benjamin.

He used his lips, he used his tongue and he'd never done that before, not when he had to suck a hawk he got the cock head up against his hard palate and used his head to sort of mouth wank Marcus, and at that moment he didn't care if Marcus spunked or not because he could feel that Marcus really liked what he was doing.

Marcus didn't spunk, though. Instead he eased Benjamin's head off his cock and brought him back up so once again his head was on Marcus' shoulder.

"Not yet, Benjamin," Marcus said with a really nice smile, "Don't want things to finish too soon, do we."

And that was something else new for Benjamin. Up till now it had always been spunk up as soon as possible, pull his jeans up, pocket the money and get lost. Now Marcus didn't want to spunk in a hurry, he wanted to make it all last, to cuddle and stroke and be nice.

Benjamin looked up, wondering why it was that Marcus didn't want to spunk yet, wanted to cuddle and be nice. No-one was nice to Benjamin, not even the hawks were really nice. They just wanted his cock and were willing to pay for it; they weren't nice to him, didn't smile at him and make him feel wanted. He was just a bit of young cock to them, a chicken, nothing more.

He'd expected Marcus to be the same. True Marcus was a lot younger than the hawks on the Downs and he wanted more than just a quick bit of boy cock, but he was still paying for it and Benjamin had expected that things would be much the same as usual. He had not expected to be stroked and cuddled, smiled at and made to feel a bit special. He hadn't expected that at all.

He felt a little glow inside him, pleased that Marcus didn't want to rush things, pleased that the cuddling and stroking would carry on, and very pleased that Marcus seemed to find him worth not rushing, worth cuddling and stroking.

Benjamin looked back down at Marcus' cock, upright and hard and still glistening from being in Benjamin's mouth and surprised himself by liking what he was looking at. Benjamin had never had the least little bit of interest in cock before, boy cock or man cock. He'd wanked and sucked three or four hawk cocks, but that had meant nothing to him, he did it for the cash and not from any interest at all in cock. He wanked his own, of course he did, but he'd always just wanked it. He wanked it because it had to be wanked, not because he liked or enjoyed the actual wanking. Spunking was alright, felt good when he spunked, but it was always a bit messy and needed cleaning up afterwards. Didn't now, of course, because he always spunked in some hawk's mouth now, so there was no sticky mess to clean up

It was different this evening; he was looking at Marcus' cock and actually liking what he was looking at. It had been good feeling it and, and this he could not deny, he'd really liked wiping it round his face and sucking it. He'd no idea why he'd liked that, he just had. That was all there was to it. He'd done it on an impulse from somewhere or other and it had felt ..... well, he couldn't really say how it felt because Benjamin had not yet started to think of the things that were happening as `sex'. All this was just getting hold of money; if he hadn't been kicked out, hadn't needed money to eat then none of this would be happening and Benjamin would never have had his own cock sucked, or felt and sucked someone else's cock, and certainly not have been cuddled up naked on a sofa with a guy in his twenties watching teenage boys fuck each other on an enormous television screen.

While these thoughs were making their somewhat disjointed way through Benjamin's mind as he gazed at Marcus' cock, Marcus himself had been busy.

"Weed break," Marcus announced and put a three-skinner against Benjamin's lips.

To Benjamin, that just showed how nice Marcus was. Not only had he rolled a joint, he'd rolled two! One each!

The thought that anyone who did something like that deserved to have his cock sucked popped into Benjamin's mind, and that thought produced a smile. Benjamin hadn't done a lot of genuine smiling recently. He looked a different boy when he smiled.

 

Joints were smoked mostly in silence, not an awkward silence, but a silence simply because there was no need to talk.

"You like that stuff?" Benjamin did ask, curious as to why someone would have a collection of boy porn.

"Course, I do," Marcus grinned, "Rather fond of boys."

"Of fucking them," Benjamin said, stating the obvious.

"When I get the chance."

"Not gonna be getting the chance with me."

"I know. You said cock only."

"Yeh, so no trying to fuck me."

"Of course not. Never do anything with a boy that he doesn't agree to."

"That's alright then."

"Just that I'm not gay," Benjamin felt a need to give a reason for not wanting to be fucked.

"That's fine. Who cares if you're gay or straight or fancy pigeons? You have a very nice cock and you're letting me enjoy it. What have I got to complain about?"

Vaguely Benjamin recalled someone else saying something similar to that, but the weed was slowing down his memory and he couldn't, at the moment, think of who it was that said it.

"Yeh, well. You can have as much cock as you want," he offered, feeling a need to soften the blow about his arse staying unfucked.

"Do I have permission to try one or two things you might quite like?" Marcus asked, "If I promise not to get my cock anywhere near your arse?"

"Like what?"

"Like find out when they happen, and if you don't like, then you say so and it stops."

"Possibly."

"And, naturally, as we'd agreed on cock only at the start, I'd have to make it worth your while."

"Possibly."

"Shall we say another fifty, just to explore?"

"Okay."

Benjamin, at that point, was somewhere between Mars and the outer planets and still going. Marcus could do what he wanted if there was cash involved, and anyway, for some reason he found that, as he left the Asteroid Belt far behind, all he could really think of was sucking Marcus' cock again. Properly. All the way. Until it spunked.

It was really good being cuddled up close to Marcus.

Really good to be lazily smoking a joint.

Good to be naked as well. Naked for Marcus. Strange, that. Why should he feel so content being naked, cuddled up to a guy? Why was it that being softly stroked felt so ...... whatever it felt. `Nice' didn't quite cover it; but whatever it was, Benjamin liked it.

He liked Marcus. Marcus was nice to him. He was happy to be naked for Marcus. Naked so Marcus could stroke him.

Odd, because Marcus was a guy and Benjamin, even though he was now within sight of the outer planets, wasn't gay.

He did want to suck Marcus' cock again though. Even though he wasn't the least bit gay he wanted Marcus' cock back in his mouth. Wanted it to spunk. Spunk in his mouth.

Why?

Fuck knows.

He just did.

Nothing wrong with wanting that, was there? Wanting to find out what it'd be like to have Marcus spunk in his mouth? See what spunk tasted like? Marcus' spunk?

Benjamin liked Marcus so it was only reasonable to want Marcus to spunk in his mouth.

Wasn't it?

As Benjamin took one last toke on his now exhausted joint and came within sight of the rings of Saturn, Marcus considered his options. Normally, at this point, he would begin to dock a spaced-out boy on six-and-a-half inches of slender, very hard, cock and enjoy the pleasure of hearing yet another young cherry go pop. Strangely, this evening was not following the usual, well tried-and tested course.

Just as he had many times before, Marcus had picked up a boy, brought him home and entertained him for a while, all with the single, simple intention of fucking him. That, on this occasion, he had organised for the boy to share his bed for the night, was not unique; he'd done that before, collecting virgin teen flesh and, in the morning, depositing no longer virgin teen flesh back where it came from. This time he was going to try something a little different, have the boy, not just for the night, but for the whole weekend and tease himself by delaying the cherry popping, at least for tonight.

Benjamin discarded the now burned-up remnants of the rocket that had sent him starwards, he found that with no fuel left, he'd come within the gravitational pull of Saturn and that he was drifting now amongst the glittering rings that circled the planet. Weirdly, though, Saturn didn't look like a planet ought to look; it wasn't a round ball, it was more like a cock! The more Benjamin stared at it through weed-slitted eyes, the more he realised that it was a cock, and that the rings around it, of which he was now a part, weren't rings at all. They were lips! Lips that were slowly being drawn in to eventually wrap around the cock that was Saturn.

Slowly Benjamin's head was drawn down to the cock that waited for him, his mouth open and his lips wet with the anticipation of closing round the cock that drew him inexorably closer.

Closer and closer until Benjamin's universe was just cock, and it entered his open mouth and he felt happier than he had ever felt before, sighing with the delight, the sheer pleasure of having Marcus' cock in his mouth.

Why this should be happening to him, a boy who had never been the least interested in cock before, he had no idea, and didn't even go in search of one. He'd sucked cock before, sucked cock several times in the past week, but he'd done that for money to eat, not because he wanted to, but this was different. This cock he was sucking because he did want to; he wanted it's silky hardness filling his mouth, he wanted to feel the power of it and the power he had over it, the power to excite it, the power to make it spunk.

And he wanted it to spunk; he wanted his mouth filled with spunk, to feel it spurt from the cock onto his tongue, flooding his mouth with whatever it tasted like; he wanted it to trickle down his throat, to eat it, to savour it, to have it in his stomach.

Marcus knew he was never going to be able to stop the boy from sucking him to climax if his load wasn't going where he'd originally intended then the next best place was Benjamin's mouth. Plenty of time in the next two days to pump spunk into the boy's arse, and he would be pumping spunk into Benjamin's arse, there was no doubt about that!

No point in just lying back and letting Benjamin get on with it, though; he may as well let Benjamin's arse get some idea of what was to come.

Carefully Marcus re-positioned Benjamin. It had to be done with care because he didn't want boy mouth and his cock to part company, but, with hints and pushes he got Benjamin kneeling astride him, arse by his face.

Marcus liked boy arse, and fourteen-year-old boy arse was a particular favourite.

The first flick of tongue over his hole shocked Benjamin to his core! He never let go of the cock in his mouth, but he did pause in his sucking of it. Some sort of electric shock went all the way through him as his hole was licked, so intense that he may well have demanded an instant halt to proceedings if he hadn't had Marcus' wonderful cock in his mouth.

Benjamin did have Marcus' wonderful cock in his mouth though, and nothing, not even electric shocks to his arse, was going to stop him from sucking the spunk from it. He could feel his hole twitching and it twitched a lot more when it was licked again; and not just twitched, it pulsed as well!

Benjamin whimpered a little as his arse was licked, and moaned when it was more than just licked, when tongue poked at his hole and probed its way inside. Only a little way inside, but that was far enough to have fourteen-year-old virgin Benjamin moaning as he sucked. His moans adding interesting vibrations to the sensations the cock was receiving.

Benjamin sucked cock and Marcus ate arse and, not surprisingly, it wasn't very long before that combination gave Benjamin his reward. The first spurt hit the very back of his palate, the second almost in the same place and the third onto his tongue. There was more, and Benjamin had to swallow some to make room for the rest, but make room he did and wasted not one single sperm.

It was warm, it was slimy, it was slightly salty and it was wonderful! Benjamin felt a bit like he'd just spunked himself, his stomach in knots as the cock fed him. He took it from his mouth, inspected it, squeezed the foreskin to bring up any last, hiding drops, and licked those greedily off.

Benjamin liked sucking cock, well, Marcus' cock, and he wanted to do it again; and have it spunk in his mouth again and eat every drop of spunk it could produce.

Benjamin liked having his arse eaten as well. He shouldn't because it was his arse and he'd said that arse was out of bounds, but now Marcus' cock had finished spunking and Benjamin could concentrate on the feelings from his rear, he concluded that having his arse eaten out was perfectly permissible.

That wasn't a rational decision because Benjamin was still a very long way from being ready to start on a return to Planet Earth, but whilst he'd been sucking Saturn what had been going on to his rear had been very pleasant indeed and considerably added to his enjoyment of the volcanic eruption Saturn had produced in his mouth.

"Bed time," Marcus whispered and Benjamin found himself agreeing without hesitation. His own cock was still very hard and in need of an eruption of its own, and Benjamin felt sure that, once in bed, Marcus would organise that for him.

It turned out to be the biggest eruption of Benjamin's young life, but it came only after Benjamin had discovered why boys seemed to enjoy kissing each other so much. Playing `twist the tongue' with Marcus, bodies pressed as close to each other as was possible and having his own, hairless legs intertwined with the carefully shaved, silky smooth ones of Marcus was incredibly cock-hardening turned out to be a game Benjamin felt he might be able to become very adept at, and, indeed, he learned the basic rules very quickly.

When eventually Marcus went down to suck him, Benjamin was unable to produce even a hint of protest when one, then two and finally three, fingers somehow found their way inside his arse. Under the circumstances Benjamin felt it would be churlish to object, and though up until that moment Benjamin had never hesitated to be churlish, this time he restrained himself because, actually, having three fingers moving around inside his arse while he was being sucked felt, though he was sure it shouldn't, very good indeed.

There was one spot inside him that one of those fingers kept touching that did very weird things inside him and seemed to make his balls fill up so much that it was impossible for spunk not to shoot out from his cock. Really shoot out! Like any boy of fourteen, Benjamin could manage a reasonable spurt, but the first three that came blasting out of his cock this time were more than just spurts, they came out with bullet force and seemed to take most of Benjamin's insides with them.

A normal spunking for Benjamin was three, perhaps four decent shots and two or three twitched out dribbles to follow; this one was five massive blasts and aftershocks that went on for ages, and when it all finished poor Benjamin was a trembling, exhausted wreck.

 

It was dark when Benjamin opened his eyes and while they had been shut he'd returned to planet Earth. He wasn't sure at first if it was planet Earth because he registered that he was warm and comfortable in a bed and not uncomfortable in a sleeping bag on the ground in the middle of a patch of bushes.

And he was naked.

And he wasn't alone.

A hand was gently stroking him from knee to hip and it wasn't his hand.

He should have done something, stopped the hand, told it to go away, especially when it went beyond his hip and included his cock in the stroking.

Benjamin was not in the habit of being naked in bed with someone who stroked him from knee to cock so why was he making little, contented, purring noises instead of objecting violently?

Because it felt nice.

Because he liked being stroked from knee to cock.

Perhaps he wasn't awake after all and was just dreaming that he was being stroked.

Why would he dream something like that? He'd never had a dream like that before.

And even if he had and couldn't remember it he was sure that no dream he'd ever had included him being rolled onto his back so his cock could be sucked and that was what was happening now!

Benjamin thought he could get used to being naked in bed with someone who sucked his cock.

He liked having his cock sucked.

He liked being naked in bed having his cock sucked.

It was really good lying naked in bed while someone sucked his cock while he was still asleep. Perhaps half-asleep. It felt too good for him to be properly asleep.

He could worry about it being a bit gay later, when he was properly awake. Not now, though. Because even though it was a man sucking his cock it was far too nice to worry about it being gay.

Anyway, it didn't really matter, did it, not if his spunk was being sucked out. That was the best way to spunk, wasn't it, in someone's mouth. Someone who knew how to suck a boy properly. Do it slowly so you could get all the special feelings you get when you're having your cock sucked so you get the time to really enjoy it before you spunk.

Benjamin spunked.

And the nicest thing of all, Benjamin thought as he drifted back to sleep, was that when you spunked in someone's mouth there was no mess to clean up afterwards.

Benjamin had a version of that dream two or three times more before he woke up properly with the sun streaming through the bedroom window and his cock felt as though he'd been wanking all night long.

Marcus smiled at him and felt him, cupping balls and cock together in the same hand.

"Don't think you'll get much out of it for a bit," Benjamin said, but he was wrong, because when Marcus started sucking his tits instead of his cock he got hard again very quickly.

That was really strange; why should having his tits sucked make him go hard? And it wasn't just that it made his cock hard, it sent weird feelings all the way through him, right down to his toes. Not unpleasant feelings; definitely not unpleasant, but odd. He had no idea that a boy could feel things like that from his tits. Tits were girl things not boy things. Weren't they?

Obviously not, because he was rock hard and squirming all over the bed.

It was a relief when Marcus stopped sucking his tits, not because he didn't like it but because the feelings were so intense and he wasn't sure how much more of it he could take.

Benjamin didn't have too long to wonder about that, though, because Marcus was doing something else, lifting up one of his arms and kissing and licking him in his arm-pit!

Why would he do that?

Benjamin didn't ask why or even think about objecting because it felt strangely good. Nowhere near as intense as having his tits sucked and nibbled, but a sort of watered down version of it that didn't make his toes tingle but seemed to make his cock crave for attention.

When Marcus finished eating under his arm and his head went down cockwards, Benjamin sighed in anticipation of being sucked yet again. His cock needed sucking; it didn't matter how many times Marcus had sucked him during the night, he needed to be sucked again now.

Needed it urgently.

Marcus didn't suck his cock, he licked and sucked his balls instead!

Why suck balls?

Who cares it felt amazing!

Benjamin liked having his balls licked and sucked.

He shouldn't, but he did.

It made his cock bounce and twitch.

It made his cock desperate to be in Marcus mouth.

But Marcus' mouth wasn't opening for cock yet; instead it was moving downwards, away from his balls and onto his leg.

His leg?

What was special about his leg?

Benjamin found out.

Marcus licked and kissed the front of his thigh. Odd. Unusual. Rather nice though.

When the same thing happened to the inside of his thigh it was all those things but times ten!

Now his cock was screaming to be seen to.

"Suck me ................ please," Benjamin heard himself beg.

And, at last, Marcus did.

"Bit thin," Marcus grinned at him as whatever spunk his cock had managed to jerk out was swallowed.

"Not surprising," Benjamin managed to croak, "You were at it all fucking night long!"

"Didn't hear you objecting," Marcus smiled at him in between licking his lips.

"Course not," Benjamin grinned back, "Paying for it, aren't you."

The thought that he'd done rather more than just allow access to his cock for the money did occur to Benjamin, but he dismissed that. For the moment, anyway.

It came back later, though, when Benjamin was having his morning shit.

He'd had to let Marcus do those things to him, hadn't he? It wouldn't have been right not to let Marcus suck his tits and under his arm, lick his balls and kiss his legs. It would have been a bit mean not to let him. After all, Marcus was being nice to him, feeding him and letting him sleep in a warm, comfortable bed.

And he hadn't minded, had he. It was weird, but not unpleasant. Not the least bit unpleasant.

He'd let Marcus do other things though, hadn't he.

Things like licking his arse and putting fingers up inside him when he was being sucked.

That was alright, though, because Marcus had given him a huge joint, so he'd been sort of paid for letting it happen. Hadn't he?

And Marcus hadn't even asked if he could fuck him, so even though those things were definitely gay it didn't make him gay for doing them because he hadn't been fucked.

That would be gay.

No way of escaping that.

If Marcus fucked him then that would be very definitely gay.

Benjamin wasn't gay.

Doing those gay things had been rather fun, though.

Sucking Marcus' cock and having it spunk in his mouth was probably pretty gay, but he'd liked it. Liked it enough to want it to happen again.

Wouldn't mind having his arse licked again either.

That had felt amazing.

Those fingers up his bum had been pretty good as well. Made him spunk loads.

Perhaps you could do gay things without being actually gay.

Even if you enjoyed those gay things it didn't make you gay.

Would it be so bad if he actually was gay?

He didn't feel any different now than he had yesterday so he couldn't be gay, could he, because he knew he wasn't gay yesterday.

But would it matter if he was?

What if he was actually gay, had always been gay? Just secretly gay. So secretly that he didn't know it.

Perhaps he was.

That would explain why he'd really liked Marcus doing those things.

And he had liked it.

No point in pretending he hadn't.

Would he let Marcus do them again?

Without being paid for letting him?

He knew he would.

As much as Marcus wanted.

What about being fucked?

Don't know.

Don't ask.

Don't go there.

Don't think about it.

Even though Benjamin was determined not to think about it, when he was in the shower he made sure his arse was really clean. Just in case.

Still naked, Benjamin followed his nose to the kitchen, the smell of frying bacon drawing him like a magnet. He had no choice about being naked, did he, because Marcus had taken his clothes to wash them, and it didn't matter anyway because Benjamin found that he rather liked being naked.

It was weird because he'd never gone around naked before but it felt quite good being fully exposed, air round his balls and all on show for Marcus to look at.

Benjamin wanted Marcus to look.

Marcus did look.

Marcus looked with a glint in his eye that even still sexually naive Benjamin knew was a glint of lust.

It wasn't like the looks the hawks gave him when they picked him up wondering what his cock was like and how much it would cost them to find out. It was a look that indicated more than a quick suck was being contemplated, a look that Benjamin had no difficulty in interpreting as saying, "You are a delicious bit of boy flesh and I want to fuck you stupid."

Benjamin was a long way from wanting to be fucked stupid, but being thought of as a delicious bit of boy flesh made Benjamin feel good. Marcus could think of him as delicious boy flesh as much as he wanted; Benjamin liked it.

He moved a little closer and when Marcus pulled him in for a kiss, Benjamin opened his mouth for tongue without a moment's hesitation.

Tongue in his mouth made Benjamin's well-used cock stiffen again and he purred when Marcus reached down and felt his hardness. Whatever he'd felt about it a week ago, Benjamin now wanted his cock to be handled.

"Won't be much in the way of trade going today," Marcus said when breakfast was finished, "Want to stay for another night?"

"You paying?"

"No. Just food and bed. No cash."

"I don't do stuff for free. I ain't gay."

"Did I say you are?"

"Want me to do it for nothing, though."

"Meals and a comfortable bed. That's not nothing."

"Ain't money, though."

"True; but you won't have a comfortable bed on the Downs."

Benjamin thought about that for a moment. Marcus' bed was a lot more comfortable than a sleeping bag in the bushes on the downs.

"Just cock," he compromised.

"No kissing and cuddling?"

"Well, perhaps."

"Your choice. Back to the Downs with nothing to do all day, or stay here, have a joint or two, watch some porn and have your very tasty body stroked and your cock sucked."

"You reckon I got a tasty body?"

"Very."

Benjamin liked that. The hawks hadn't told him he was tasty, they just wanted a quick bit of chicken cock.

"Really? You not just saying that cos you fancy fucking me?"

"No. You really are a tasty bit of boy. And of course I'd fuck you if I had the chance."

"Why? Is it better fucking a boy than a girl?"

"Never fucked a girl. Fucked several boys, though, and don't want to fuck cunt."

"You're really gay, aren't you."

"For boys. Don't have any inclination to do stuff with men, Just boys."

"Why just boys?"

"Because I like boys."

"That's perverted."

"Not at all; men have fucked boys since time began."

"Really?"

"Of course. Boys are very sexy creatures."

"I thought it was just pedos and pervs."

"No way. Nothing like it. Some societies even preferred boys to women. Thought it normal for boys and men to get together."

"No way!"

"True. Ancient Greece, for example, a boy was expected to have a man for a lover."

"That can't be true. No way."

"It is. Promise you, it is."

"Has to be bollocks. Mean all boys were gay, wouldn't it, and being gay ain't natural."

"Gay is a very recent invention."

"You just said boys always did it."

"Boys did. But we've only called doing it `gay' quite recently."

"Oh."

Benjamin found this confusing, he wasn't used to actually thinking about things.

"So you mean it's not gay or queer if I do stuff?"

"I mean that if you do stuff because you like doing it, then there's nothing wrong with it."

"So it's alright for you to fuck boys?"

"If the boy wants to be fucked. If he doesn't then it's rape, and rape is bad."

"I think I quite like you doing stuff to me. You know, cuddling me and kissing me. Feels nice."

"So you don't want to go back up on the Downs?"

"Not just yet. Not if you got a joint handy."

Benjamin knew he'd made a big decision, he was going to let Marcus do stuff to him and not get paid for it. He was going to do it because he liked it, not because he had to in order to eat. If that meant he was gay, well, he'd worry about that some other time.

Some other time, not now; now he was going to get stoned, watch porn and let Marcus do things to him.

 

Benjamin was begging, he knew he was begging, but he begged anyway.

"Deeper, pleeaaasssse," he heard himself pleading, "All of it.......all the way.......right in.......pleeeaaassse."

Benjamin heard the man grunt, felt him thrust harder and deeper, felt the wire of his pubes scraping the smoothness of his arse. The man's cock was not as long as Marcus' but it was thicker and that made up for the lack of length a little. It stretched him and filled him; he just wished there was more of it.

Benjamin didn't like being fucked he was addicted to it. From the very first time, two weeks ago, that Marcus had pushed cock inside his stoned body, he'd been addicted. He hadn't wanted to be fucked but now he couldn't live without having cock in his arse. Marcus fucked him at least three times every day but his arse needed more. Much more.

Benjamin didn't wonder how it had happened; he didn't care how it had happened. Marcus had fucked him and now he just needed to be fucked.

Not for money; Marcus had never paid for his arse. He'd just taken it; Benjamin, stoned Benjamin, had said he could and he did.

Many times.

Until Benjamin was addicted totally to being fucked, was controlled by Marcus' cock.

The weed man, the guy who had talked Benjamin into selling his cock for food up on the Downs had arrived an hour ago.

"Very nice," he said eyeing naked Benjamin, "He trained now?"

"Try him."

The weed guy did.

Benjamin lay on his back, lifted his legs and the weed man fucked him.

"Good," the weed man said when he finished, "He's ready for his daddy now."

Benjamin didn't know what he meant, he hated his stepfather. He wasn't going back there!

"What did we get for him?"

"Ten. Not bad."

"Not bad at all. Considering he was a pleasure to train."

"Got another one lined up. Found him in London. Thirteen."

"Nice," Marcus said, "Look forward to it."

 

Hope it was worth reading

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