Date: Sun, 19 Apr 2009 21:08:49 +1000 From: James Gippsland Subject: Billy the Kid Billy the Kid This is a true story, only the name has been changed. Billy the kid had been working for me for about three months before I finally summoned the courage to feel him up. Let me explain. And give you some details. I'm 42, 6' 3 tall, Australian, blond, with blue eyes. I'm in good shape -- all that surfing, swimming and crap! And I have a landscape business. Build garden walls, plant and mulch, concreting, whatever. Its physical work. Hard on the muscles. Good on the physique. You catch my drift? I started the business some ten years ago. Been going really well recently. I'm fully stretched to keep up. So much so, I don't have time for my own stuff. I live in the country, away from all the action, on seven acres. Gardens, paddocks, a few animals, whatever. The garden in particular was getting out of hand. Grass was long, weeds were getting established. It was depressing me. And if any customer had seen it, it wouldn't have done my reputation any good. I'd had a lad working for me two years previously, just Saturdays. He was alright. Just. More interested in the money than the work. He did a lot of sport, had a bit of weight on him, yet seemed to loose it when I showed interest in him. Went walking/running, played tennis, did weight training. He began to look hot! We talked about sex and all that, and he was clearly straight. Only straight. The one time I made a move on him, after what I thought was a bit of a come on by him, I only got as far as stroking his naked torso. He stood still and took it. It lasted for two or three minutes and he seemed to enjoy it. But as my hand moved further south he pulled away. "Nah mate, no thanks," and that was the end of that. He left when I wouldn't increase his wages -- for the third time. So when I took on Billy, I wasn't sure what was going to happen. I told him what I needed -- I mean as a gardener! And yeh, he could manage that, with a bit of instruction. He came of a Saturday, four hours at a time. He worked hard. The son of a farmer, he knew what hard work meant. But he dressed in long pants and a heavy top. I despaired I'd ever get a glimpse of what was underneath. Then one week he was going to cricket after working for me, and needed to get changed before being picked up by a mate. I stood and watch him changed. I mean, I wanted a good look at anything I could see. But I also wanted him to KNOW that I wanted to check him over. He was (IS) so shy. He avoided changing for as long as he could then just had to get on with it. He stripped off his T shirt. His lad is young. He's not long had his 18th (In Australia, that's when everything happens -- voting, drinking, etc. Now you're an adult. Although interestingly sex between consenting 16 year olds is legal). He's about 5'9", and I've since found out he's 77 kgs in weight and has size 7 shoes! He has brown hair, cut short, but the sort just want to run your hands through (I do, as often as I can get away with it!), shaves occasionally, has deep brown eyes and an amazing smile. I'm always a sucker for a smile. When he stripped his shirt off, he looked at me. I nearly looked away. I mean, that's what I would do in other circumstances when I was checking a guy out. Turn away just before he caught me looking at him. And then turn and ogle him when he wasn't looking! But this time I wanted to send Billy a message. An unspoken message, I want to look at you. He blushed a little. So shy, so cute. And I continued to watch. His body was slim, but tight with young muscle. I was amazed. I hadn't expected this, underneath what he had been wearing week by week. Obviously his farm work and sport was paying off. He had a thin line of navel hair (a snail trail) disappearing into his trousers. And as he lifted up his arms to strip his T off, I caught sight of his well haired pits under his arms. Unfortunately, being as shy as he was, he put his cricket T on, covering his beautiful body. Then he took down his trousers to put his cricket pants on. I could see very little, as the cricket T shirt covered his body, falling down over his ass. I just caught a quick glimpse of a well known brand of Australian briefs. I love briefs, rather than boxers, especially on a young slim body. I continued to watch, and he looked up a couple of times and caught me peering at him. I didn't care. "Mmmm" I said. "Briefs. Hot." He blushed again. Over the next few weekends, he loosened up a little. We joshed around. I found his MSN address and we chatted a couple of times late at night. He's still at school -- final year. Unfortunately he doesn't have his own computer, just borrows his parents. But it's amazing what you can say to a guy in "chat" that perhaps you wouldn't risk, face to face. The school holidays came round. I had extra work on, and suddenly thought "Billy!" I offered him a week's work, labouring for me, and doing a few extra, mowing and the like. Yeh he was interested. His mother would have to drop him off at my place early each morning. (His mother, aiiiii!!!! There`s a woman. Has Billy on a string, does everything for him. Controlling. The sooner he leaves home -- if he's allowed to -- the better!) So Billy spent the day either working next to me, sitting in my cab next to me, or fooling around at lunchtime or morning tea. Once he came out of his shell, he's a scream. Dry, dry humour. Sharp as a tack. And we talked about forbidden subjects. Sometimes just in passing, sometimes for three or four minutes. Bodies, muscles, wanking, cuming (he had me in fits over an episode when he was just about shooting and orgasming in the shower room, trying not to moan too loudly, when mother starts banging on the door yelling "What you doing in there Billy???" This week it's warmer, so he wears shorts. Much better. Nice legs. I tell him. I think maybe he's copying me. His diet improves, and by the end of the week there's actually two pieces of fruit in his lunch box. We get friendly. We push and shove. Nothing too serious, he's still very shy. He's already told me a few times that he's got a girlfriend, as if to put me in my place. But as I get to know him, I push the topic and it becomes clear that he and his girlfriend have never done anything sexually. I mean at first "of course we've had sex" but, after a while, yeh right, nothing's every happened. I mean EVER. I don't think that kid would let anyone near his pecker at the moment. Like I say we talk about "stuff". Man stuff. Like, not the sort of stuff that a 42 year old and an 18 year would maybe usually talk about, unless... Well, I live in hope. A few times, say after we've been sitting down for lunch or whatever, he'll get up, and give this exaggerated stretch, making his shirt ride up his body, revealing his navel. I look. Of course I look. And he looks at me. We smile. That secret "I think I know what you're think, but I'm scared to put it into words" type smile. We horse around, then back to work. Occasionally my hands slip onto his knees, say, when he's next to me in the ute. At first he recoiled, moved his legs out of the way quickly. Then he sort of moved them. Now they stay still, and I get a quick feel. But only ever his knees you understand, nothing north of them!! Which is why I was so surprised yesterday. He'd been working in my garden again. We'd worked together side by side. He was obviously tired after the week, but we still had some fun. Then it was time for a break. "In the shed," I said. I have a shed, place to keep garden stuff, few chairs and the like. We usually go there for a coffee half way through his time with me. We chatted, drank the coffee, stood up to get back to work. He stretched, arms above his head, sort of twisting his back as if in some discomfort. "Stiff back?" I said. "Yeh." "Here, let me give you a rub down." I made him stand with his hands on the wooden beam supporting the roof. He was stretched, and his hands wouldn't interfere with mine. I massaged his shoulders initially, through his T shirt. "You're tense," I said. Slowly my hands worked under his shirt, lifting it up for better access, and continuing to rub his now accessible shoulders. For the first time, I felt his smooth boy skin, the muscles moving under his skin. My hands went down his back, across the small of his back, round his waist. I reached in closer, and felt around his front. Ahhh, his belly, so flat and firm, with just a powdering of hair. Reaching upwards to his chest. I am surprising myself. He's just standing there, and I'm doing this. No planning. It just -- happened. I reach his nipples, rubbing them so gently, then very lightly twisting one. Then my hands scoot back down to his belly. I want to do more, so much more. I don't know what to say, but I know I'm enjoying it. Then he let's go of the wooden beam. Maybe he has pins and needles in his arms; maybe he's had enough of what I'm doing. I don't know. I just know that for three or four minutes I've been in heaven. We still down again, and there's silence. I see he has a hard on. Nothing enormous, but certainly his shorts have tented a little. So are mine. "Right, well, back to work," I say, to cover any embarrassment. The rest of the afternoon passes. At first I think he's pissed off with me, but it passes. Maybe he's pissed off that I stopped! Who's to tell? Late in the day we laugh and josh around. I pay him, and take him home. It's a 20 minute ride, and we're both quiet most of the way. Have I ruined things? Is he working things through? He gets out of the ute. Shakes my hand (I always instead on body contact wherever possible.) "Thanks." he says, "For this week. (Pause) And... today. (Pause) Again... next week?" There's just the slightest inflection of begging in his voice as if I might say that I didn't want him to come again. Billy, you must be joking. Of course I want you again. I want to go further. To feel your smooth boy skin and gentle muscle. To stroke your nipples. To play around your navel, and slowly, oh so slowly, slide my hand inside your shorts, but outside your grey briefs, and feel your young cock hardening in my grasp. To slowly strip you, and run my fingers over your naked frame, whilst you stretch your hands to the wooden beam in the shed, and I gently press your legs apart, giving me access to both your butt and aching cock. Oh yes, your cock would be hard. You may be "straight" Billy boy, but you like the feel of my fingers. And you've yet to feel the touch of my lips and tongue on your cock. Your first blow job it will be, of that I'm sure. Because you see Billy, I'm convinced that you're a virgin. "Yes, Billy. Next week. Same time." "Same place," he says. And smiles at me. Emails to jamesgippsland@hotmail.com All comments appreciated, especially the horny ones!!!!