Date: Wed, 22 Aug 2007 14:23:28 -0700 (PDT)
From: Rob Hoek <storyguy22@yahoo.com>
Subject: A Boy Alone (1)

Another work of fiction involving sexual exploration between adult men, and
a young boy. If you are in any way offended by this fictional activity,
please make a different reading selection. Also, if your local laws, or
your parents, would be disturbed by your consumption of this material, you
really should stop reading now. Otherwise, enjoy. Feedback is always
appreciated.

(1)


   Thirteen year old Brett settled his back against the trunk of the
billowing shade tree, grateful for its cooling shade to shelter his
scantily clad young body from the last of the day's lingering heat. He
sighed loudly, as he again chastised himself for being so stupid as to
allow himself to be caught the way that he had during his most recent
forage into lifting money from the coffee can stash that his Father thought
was well hidden inside his closet. Sighing again, he woefully reflected on
the numerous other times he had easily been successful in liberating a few
dollars pocket cash from his drunken fathers hideaway, and he once more
cursed his own recent carelessness that had ended very badly, with his very
irate, and more than a little bit drunk, Father catching him red handed.

   Brett actually shuddered, his lithe young body trembling, despite the
still, and very warm, air of the late afternoon. He recalled his Father's
ire, which had been followed closely by actual rage, as his alcohol-fueled
anger had boiled over at his discovery that his only son was stealing from
him, and, worst of all, stealing from his drinking money. A scathing amount
of loud shouting had ensued, as Brett's Father had literally dragged his
terrified body into his own bedroom, where he had furiously stripped the
trembling boy naked, then, handed him the rattiest looking, and exceedingly
too small, pair of shorts that he possessed, along with his most worn out
pair of tennis shoes, and commanded him to put them on. Terrified of his
Father's anger, Brett had quickly complied, thankful that his Father had
not yet pummeled his slender body into a bloody pulp. Once the meager
clothing was in place, Brett's father had severely pinched his ear lobe
between thumb and finger, and all but dragged the boy to the front door,
whereupon he promptly yanked it open, and bodily shoved the frightened
teenager out onto the porch, and then gave him a huge shove, causing the
boy to stumble, and end up sprawled face down on the front lawn. Still
yelling at the top of his lungs, the irate man had verbally brandished the
boy from the property, then, added several abusive promises of bodily
injury should the boy ever again darken his door. With that final
admonishment, his Father had turned, and stomped back into his house, and
slammed the door with finality.

   As the terrifying moments played through the boy's memory, he sighed
heavily again, and looked down at his shirtless body, and at the ugly
little shorts that barely concealed anything at all, and finally at the
dirty and worn tennis shoes on his sock less feet. Jeez, he thought, I look
like some street kid, or some homeless waif. Further contemplation of the
thought caused Brett to realize that, indeed, he was just that, his mind
recalling his Father's final words that he not ever again show his face at
home, but rather forage for himself in the hope that the experience might
educate him to the true value of money, especially other peoples. Brett
sighed once more, then, struggled to his feet, as he brushed at the seat of
his little shorts to eradicate the traces of grass that clung
there. Looking down again, he realized that the lack of any underwear, and
the tightness of the outgrown shorts clung to his young penis and balls in
a nearly obscene way, and he tried his best to adjust the clinging garment,
but to little improvement. He sighed again, and then decided that he had
best figure out something in the way of shelter for the night before it got
dark, and, some source of food to assuage his growing hunger.

   Gathering himself, Brett began moving along the sidewalk, mindful of the
strange looks he was getting from various passersby, especially the men,
with several actually pausing to stare at his passing, or doing double
takes over their shoulders to leer at his nearly naked young body. Brett
was by nature a highly perceptive boy, and for some time now he had been
aware of the effects his slender young body seemed to have on certain adult
men, and his perceptions had been soundly proved over this past summer,
when the fifty-something man who lived on his block had shown a definite
interest in exploring his body.

  Brett, always on the lookout to earn some spending money, had offered to
mow the old guys lawns, and when he had finished, the man had invited him
inside for a cold drink. Once in the house, the tall glass of iced tea had
been produced, along with several well thumbed magazines filled with glossy
pictures of adult men performing very graphic sexual acts on very young,
and very naked, boys. As the man sat on the sofa next to a somewhat
startled, but very much enchanted Brett, leafing slowly through the pages
of the tattered magazines, he had gently probed the boy's feelings
regarding what he was seeing, and subtly offered to show the boy just how
good those kinds of acts could make his young body feel. Brett had sat
stone silent, his mind reeling from the incredible pictures, and their
content, and he had been painfully aware of his rigid little penis where it
poked severally at the snug lap of his small shorts. Not sure as to why the
illicit photographs were exciting his young body, but fully aware of his
mounting excitement, and his throbbing boner, Brett had offered no
resistance as the man gently laid his large hand on his bare thigh, and
began slowly rubbing it, as his other hand continued to turn the pages,
revealing ever increasing intimacy between the men, and boys. As Brett
continued to stare wide eyed, and mouth agape, at the stunning depictions,
the man had continued his soft spoken monologue, pointing out various
sexual acts being perpetrated on the cute looking youngsters, and several
times suggesting to Brett how it must feel simply amazing to have ones body
touched, or licked, or sucked in those ways, all the while subtly inching
his groping hand closer to Brett's aching boner.

   Brett remembered his loud gasp, as the man had moved his hand across his
shorts, and how the wide palm had pressed firmly against his rigid boyhood
briefly, as it moved higher, to caress the smooth skin of his bare tummy,
and chest, even fingering his tiny brown nipples. He had mostly abandoned
the lure of the stunning pictures then, his concentration shifting to the
butterflies in his tummy that the man's touch was generating, and he
settled back into the sofa, his eyes dropping to closely watch the man's
big hand stroking the softness of his tummy. The man had looked at him
closely then, gauging his reactions, then smiled warmly, as he slowly let
his hand drift lower, again moving into the boy's distended lap, and then
firmly gripping his very erect little penis outside of his shorts, and
squeezing the rigid stalk repeatedly.

   Brett had groaned, his lithe body suddenly singing with feelings more
intense than anything he could remember, and the skilled man sensed the
boy's acceptance of his fondling, if still somewhat tentative. Emboldened
by the lack of any outward resistance from the boy, the man had begun a
steady up and down stroking of the young, but fairly impressive erection
under Brett's shorts, causing the boy to utter several additional groans of
pleasure, and he had quietly encouraged the boy to relax, and just enjoy
the new sensations that he was rapidly awakening within him. Brett had
acquiesced, his senses nearly dizzy with the multitude of pleasures that
the man's touches were inducing, and he had settled further still into the
soft sofa, and closed his eyes, giving himself over to the warmth that
seemed to fill his slender young body.

   As he stood at a corner waiting for the crossing light to change, Brett
was stirred from his reverie, suddenly coming to the realization that his
recollections of that day had caused his young penis to fully stiffen, and,
as he glanced down, he realized to his horror that his boner was all but
poking through the thin material of the tattered shorts. He glanced around,
quickly assessing if any of the pedestrian traffic seemed aware of his
predicament, then, visually searched out a place where he might sit down,
and thus conceal his pulsing boyhood until he could will it under
control. Spotting a nearby bus stop bench, Brett scurried over to it, and
sat, his young erection trapped between the threadbare material of the
tight shorts, and the warm skin of his groin. He looked into his lap,
finding only minor relief in the finding that his erection was only
slightly less obvious than it had been with him standing, and he leaned
back, closing his eyes, as he struggled to mentally process various math
equations in the hope the distraction would render his throbbing boner
soft.

   To his chagrin, the boy quickly found that his thoughts quickly returned
to the events of the day with the neighbor man, and his magazine
photographs, and the nearly unbearable intensity of his hands on his lithe
young body, all of which did nothing to sooth his aching boner. He gave a
small shrug of surrender, and abandoned any further effort at loosing his
erection, instead letting his memory run free, recalling every small nuance
of that incredible experience, and allowing it to flow through his mind. He
shuddered slightly, very nearly actually hearing the sound of the man's
soft voice, as he had continued to fondle the boy's rigid penis, and his
small, tight balls over the thin shorts, finally softly verbalizing the
suggestion that he take the shorts off him, thereby allowing him to make
the cute boy feel even better. Once again a very excited Brett had
acquiesced completely, even lifting his small butt up off the sofa, as the
man had tugged at the elastic waistband, and slid the shorts down his
colt-like and hairless legs, then finally off his small feet, where he let
the small garment drop to the floor.

   Fully naked now, save for his worn tennis shoes, and white half-socks,
Brett had opened his eyes, and looked at the man, as he sat very still
beside him, his eyes moving rapidly over the boy's nakedness, until finally
settling, fixed and wide, on the pulsing four inches of neatly circumcised
boyhood that reared upward from the sparse growth of straggly pubic hairs
that sprouted here and there across his milky groin. As Brett watched
carefully, the man had slowly spread a wide smile over his wrinkled face,
the hunger clear in his eyes, and he had once more began moving his hands
over the boy's slim body, all the while mumbling soft comments on his
abject youth, and beauty. Brett's body reacted to every touch, the
sensations nearly overwhelming his senses, and he had again closed his
eyes, reveling in the amazing feelings of the man's large hands seemingly
everywhere on his naked young body.

   The man had taken his time then, fully aware that he had succeeded in
his objective, and he had skillfully fondled the panting young boy's silky
smooth body, leaving no area unexplored, as Brett had savored each new
sensation, his penis positively aching with ever mounting excitement, and
his young balls drawing up tightly within their satiny pouch. Having
masturbated his young penis on countless occasions over the past year, or
so, Brett was able to recognize the agonizing buildup of the familiar
sensations that inevitably led to the crescendo of those feelings, and then
the sudden expulsion of his creamy boy nectar, and he recognized those
feelings again, as the man suddenly lowered his head into his lap, and, to
Brett's complete astonishment, had taken the whole of his plump scrotum,
and the grape-sized nuggets it contained, into his warm mouth, and sucked
it gently. As his warm mouth worked magic on Brett's tight sac, his large
fist had once more seized Brett's throbbing boyhood, and pumped it
rhythmically, and the combined sensations had simply proved far too intense
for the dazed boy to endure any longer, and his penis had suddenly spasmed
strongly in the man's fist, and erupted, spewing his young semen forth in
rapid, and pulsing jets, the creamy fluid splattering in small puddles
across Brett's heaving abdomen, and drizzling over the man's pumping hand,
and down over his lips that were still closed over Brett's silky pouch.

   Brett shuddered strongly, snapping from his reverie, as he became aware
of a wetness inside his tattered shorts, and he realized to his alarm that
he had actually orgasmed, and pulsed his warm nectar into his shorts. He
quickly looked around, relieved that no one seemed to be paying him any
direct attention, then, looked down at his lap, his eyes going wide as he
focused on the obvious wet spot at his crotch, the darkness spreading
wider, as the thin material absorbed the evidence of his
excitement. Mortified, Brett began looking in all directions, desperate to
find some hidden corner, a stand of shrubbery, any place that he could flee
to, and hide the obvious spread of telltale wetness that now seemed to
nearly cover the entire front area of the too-small shorts. Everywhere his
eyes darted seemed suddenly overrun with people, and he was right on the
verge of just taking off running, when a city bus suddenly ground to a halt
in front of his bench. The bus shuddered to a halt, a large cloud of smelly
smoke emerging from it's blackened tailpipe, as the bleed off from the air
brakes emitted a loud hiss, and the vacuum doors hissed open at the same
time. Brett looked up, his eyes meeting the face of the bus driver, a man
similar in many ways to the neighbor guy who had fondled him earlier in the
summer. The large man smiled at him, and asked,

   "You boarding boy, or...?"

   Brett leapt to his feet, and moved to the open door of the bus,
desperate to jump on the bus, and be spirited away from this suddenly very
populated area, then realized that he had absolutely no money for his fare,
and he skidded to a stop, saying,

   "Um...I guess not, Mister...I don't have any money...I actually don't
have...anything...I got kicked out of my house a while ago."

   The bus driver let his eyes drift over the nearly naked young boy, his
closely guarded penchant for slender young boys like this one quickly
surfacing, as his penis swelled inside his trousers. Damn, he thought, his
eyes settling onto the tiny shorts that were the sole item of clothing that
the stunningly cute lad wore, this kid is a serious hottie, and damn near
naked to boot, those little shorts don't hide anything at all, and wow, he
has either pissed his pants, or shot a load in there, judging from that big
wet spot...and what was it he had said...kicked out of his
house...?...hmm...better and better...forcing his gaze away from the
clearly defined boyhood that pressed against the front of the skin-tight
shorts, he smiled at the boy once more, and told him,

   "Not to worry, Sport...it's my last pickup for the day...I'm heading for
the bus barn anyway, so hop aboard, and you can catch a freebie ride."

   Relieved, and strangely excited by how the man had openly stared at his
body, and in particular his soaked crotch, and barely concealed penis,
Brett nodded, then quickly climbed the short stairway up to the main floor
of the bus. Looking down the aisle, Brett noted that the bus was totally
empty, and he paused in front of the seated man, and smiled, as he said,
meaning it,

   "Gosh Mister...thanks a lot...I...um...had, like, an...accident...and
well...oh jeez...I just really needed to get away from all those
people...!"

   The driver chuckled, again dropping his eyes to the boy's soaked shorts,
as he replied,

   "Sure thing, Sport...I understand how it can be with you horny young
bucks...pretty little cocks going hard constantly, ...and even unloading,
pretty much all by themselves...usually at the worst possible
moments...yup, I know how all that works...hell, I was young once too,
remember...and beside that, I make it my business to know all about pretty
little things like you...and that you are, believe me, Sport...damned
pretty indeed!"

   Brett felt his face flush warm as the man described him as "pretty," but
he didn't object, and he even felt his recently drained balls draw up some,
as the man continued to stare at his nearly exposed boyhood. He uttered a
nervous little giggle, then, reached out his hand to grip the grab bar
behind the driver's seat, as the man operated the doors closed, and pulled
away from the curb, nearly knocking Brett off balance. He got the bus
moving along with the traffic, only slightly above a snails pace in the
heavy evening traffic flow, then glanced back at Brett, as he winked, and
said, chuckling softly,

   "An accident, huh...nice...from the look of those hot little shorts, I'd
bet on it having been a good kind of accident, in spite of it not being the
best of locations for it...am I right, Sport...?...was it one of those good
kind of...accidents?"

   Brett's face flushed warmly again, and his penis twitched inside the
cramped shorts, as he vividly recalled the warm and wet feeling of his boy
cum flooding into the shorts, and he nodded shyly, unable to stop a coy
little smile from spreading over his boyish face.

   "Uh huh...pretty much, yea...I was sorta thinking
about...something...and I guess I, like, thought about it too
good..."<giggle>

   The driver turned to check the surrounding traffic briefly, then, looked
back at Brett, their eyes meeting, as he snaked out a large hand, and
brushed lightly against the wet front of Brett's shorts, his thick fingers
gently prodding the helmet of Brett's penis before circling the radius of
the wet spot in the material. Taking his hand away, the driver placed his
damp fingers to his nose, and inhaled deeply, a wide smile crossing his
face as he savored the heady aroma of freshly produced boy honey. Again
winking at a slightly astonished Brett, he said,

   "Very nice...very nice, indeed...thinking about something good produced
this, hmmm...?...I think that might be a story I'd like to hear, if you
care to share it with an old codger like me...I just love hearing about
pretty young boys like yourself having...good...experiences."

   Still reeling slightly from the man having touched his penis, and then
watching him sniff the smell of his cum, Brett giggled again, and blurted,

   " I don't think that you are an old codger...or even actually all that
old...actually, the...man...I was thinking about is prolly older than you
are...and, well...we kind of know how...good...I thought what
he...did...with me was...but I actually promised him that I wouldn't ever
tell on him about it...and get him in trouble, you know?"

   The bus driver nodded sagely, cranking his thick arms, as he wheeled the
bus into a hard turn, exiting the traffic filled thoroughfare, and turning
into a deserted side road, as he replied,

   "Good boy...damned good, to protect your man friend like that, but hey,
I don't want to know his name, or anything about him...I'm just interested
in whatever he did with you to have you remember it so...vividly, if you
get my meaning..."

   Brett felt himself blushing again, as he drew in a deep breath, and
answered,

   "Um... okay, I guess I can tell you that, if you don't even know who he
is...he, uh...well...I cut his grass, see...and then he brought me inside
his house for a drink cause it was sorta hot work...and then he...well...he
sorta had, like, these....magazines, you know...?...with, like, pictures in
them that were...well...nasty ones, you know...?...but, wow...they were
really...um...exciting, too...!"

   The bus driver chuckled, and relaxed back into his seat, his attention
more fully on the stunning boy now that traffic was no longer an issue, and
he nodded his understanding, as he again winked at the cutie, and replied,

   "Ah yes...I know exactly what you mean...I have tons of those magazines
myself, actually...let me guess...the kind with...interesting pictures of
men, and boys...am I right?"

   Blushing and nodding, Brett silently answered the question, as he felt
his penis swell, and harden fully inside the small shorts, as he recalled
the pictures again. The driver chuckled, his eyes dropping to scope out the
boy's obvious erection, and he raised his arm slightly, as he told the boy,

   "Step right in here, Sport...that's it...closer...there...now then, why
don't you just slide those hot little shorts down some, and show old Bill
that really nice looking boner that you have going on...that's a good boy."

   Brett felt his penis lurch in the shorts, as it strained for release,
and his pulse quickened, as he anticipated the sensation of being touched
intimately by an adult man again. Taking another small step closer to the
driver, he quickly reached for the waist band of his shorts, and pushed the
small swatch of clothe to mid-thigh, as his rigid boyhood, and dangling
pouch sprang free. The driver let out a low groaning sound as he hungrily
stared at the perfect specimen of developing boyhood, a sculpted four-plus
inches of thin, and glassy smooth pinkness that was topped by an expertly
trimmed mushroom shaped head. The scrotum was perfectly smooth, and devoid
of a single hair, in so far as the man could tell, and the youthful balls
filled the slightly crinkled pouch nicely, their weight causing the taut
sac to dangle slightly between the satin smooth thighs. There was a thin
smattering of silky pubic hairs scattered over the milk white groin, and
the man extended his one free hand, and ever so gently gripped the turgid
penis, sensing instantly the incredible hardness of it, the hardness so
completely unique to young teen boys. He sighed, the immense pleasure of
fondling so young, and pretty a penis washing over him, and he stroked the
young, and oh-so-vibrant member several times, as the boy gasped loudly,
signaling his own flood of pleasure.

   "Ohhh boy!" squeaked the boy, his eyes wide, as he looked down at his
groin, and his penis wrapped fully by the large, wide hand of the man.

   "Feels nice, huh kid...damn, you have such a pretty dick...balls
too...shit, you're just beautiful...and hot as hell...I am gonna rock your
little world, Sport...trust me...just as soon as I can get this damned bus
in the barn!"

  Brett shuddered, instant disappointment washing over him, as the man
removed his beefy hand from his pulsing penis to grab the huge steering
wheel of the bus, as he heaved it into another tight turn, as he entered
another unpopulated side street. As he straightened the course of the bus,
he turned to look at the flushed, and obviously very excited young boy, and
he winked at him again, as he said, his voice gravely now, and filled with
lust,

   "Know what would be really hot, kid...damn...I'd really like to see you
work that pretty dick...stroke yourself for me...and let me see you shoot
all that sweet young cum...can you do that for me, Sport...and then, once
we get parked, I'll show you more good stuff than you ever dreamed
of...what do you say, Sport...?"

   Brett flushed hotly again, some small part of him feeling embarrassment
at the lurid request, while the rest of him found the suggestion thrilling,
and nastier than anything he had ever thought of. Deciding that for
whatever reason, he suddenly very much wanted to jackoff for this man, and
spew his creamy nectar all over the big bus, and he spread his smooth legs
widely, bracing himself against the gentle swaying of the slow moving
bus. He lifted his arm, and trailed his palm over his smooth chest,
fingering his tiny brown nipples, which, he had discovered during his time
with the neighbor man, caused a sharp tingling sensation deep in his plump
little balls. The man groaned again, his eyes constantly flickering between
the road, and the stunning boy, and his gaze followed the slow descent of
Brett's hand, as he drew his fingers across the softness of his tummy, and
then lower, finally closing his delicate fist around the rigid shaft of his
boyhood. He dropped his other hand down, and began tugging on his ball sac,
as he steadily pumped at his glistening penis, and he let his head roll
back on his shoulders, his eyes closing, as he surrendered completely to
the sweet sensations of rubbing his penis, and the undeniable sense of the
lust filled man watching him pleasure himself. Brett had jerked off
countless times since discovering the pleasures of his penis, but never
before had he been watched this way, and he found that he was totally
enjoying the nastiness of the act, which was greatly enhanced by the steady
stream of lurid comments flowing from the highly excited man.

   "Jesus Christ, kid...that is so damned hot...good boy...stroke that
pretty young cock, and balls...fuck yea...look at all that juicy kid juice
oozing from that sweet little slit....damn...I can't wait to taste
that...and all that creamy batter that comes next...go for it kid...hell
yes...jack that pretty boy dick...let old Bill see all that hot young
cum...good boy!" blabbered the bus driver, his own meaty hand dropping into
his lap occasionally to finger his throbbing hardon, his eyes never
wavering from the boy rapidly fisting his pretty cock, his other hand still
busily prodding his gently dangling balls.

   In a matter of a very few minutes, Brett sensed the familiar tightening
in his balls, and he rocked up on to his toes, as a low growling noise
escaped his chest, and he swiped the flat side of his thumb across the wet
and drooling head of his penis several times, then once more gripped the
shaft, as his hand moved in a blur. He felt it then, the rapidly spreading
tingle that swept through his balls, and then his abdomen, a severe
tightening of all his muscles, followed immediately by a strong spasm of
his penis, as it jerked in his grip, and erupted, long streamers of milky
white semen ejecting from the tiny slit to spew forth in repeated jets that
liberally splattered onto the floor of the bus, with several errant drops
landing on the bus drivers thick forearm.

   Spent now, and gasping for breath, Brett slowed his stroking to a slow
and gentle manipulation of his wilting boyhood, finally releasing it, and
his balls entirely, as he gripped the grab bar again, and settled his weigh
back onto the soles of his feet. He looked sheepishly at the man, his soft
cheeks glowing pink, and a thin line of sweat lining his upper lip. He
smiled coyly, and the widely grinning driver gave him another wink, as he
said,

   "That was intense, little buddy...fuck yea...amazing...I always wanted
to watch a little hottie like you jerk off and cum...and damn, Sport...cum
you did...that is a hell of a lot of nut butter from such cute little balls
as yours...Jesus, this has got to be the best fucking day ever...damned
nice job, kiddo...now, take five, and we'll be in the barn in a couple of
minutes..."

   Exhausted from the intense orgasm, and from the sheer excitement of the
past several minutes, Brett gratefully dropped into the front row seat, and
tugged his tiny shorts back into place, then closed his eyes and rested,
his young mind filled with curiosity as to exactly what the bus driver man
had in store for him, and, what he had meant,when he had promised to "rock
his little world"...a sly little smile painted onto his boyish face, as he
told himself to be patient a little bit longer, as he glanced through the
big windshield of the bus, and saw the cavernous, hanger-like building that
he knew must be the bus barn glide into view.

(To Be Continued)
Storyguy22@yahoo.com