“Hello,” the man said seating himself beside me on the park bench. “You look a little sad today,” he commented sipping from a water bottle. “I’ve seen ya around the last couple of days. Skipping school?”
He was blond, dressed in a white tracksuit with red stripes down the legs wearing a red bandana around his head. His Adidas runners appeared brand new … hardly a scuff. The fit-looking middle-aged man had obviously been jogging in the park, --sweat streaming from his temples.
I wanted to ignore him and hoped he’d just go away; however, I was brought up to always be polite. His bright smile gave me the impression he was a friendly man. I had a lot to hide being a runaway on the lam for three days. I’d had a fight with my father who threatened to send me to boarding school because of my consistently poor grades and at 13 years-of-age, I wanted no part of that!
“Hello, sir,” I replied in an aloof tone which was all I intended to say virtually ignoring him.
“That’s a hell of a big backpack you have there,” he said, pointing at the bag beside me stuffed to capacity with clothes. “My name’s Alex,” he said, offering his hand. “What’s yours?”
“James,” I lied, shaking his hand trying to appear detached.
“A runaway, right? It’s written all over you, James.”
“Look, mister, I have to be going. See ya around,” I said, gathering my backpack in order to leave.
“You could probably use some money,”Alex stated matter-of-factly. “I can help you out … say, $100?”
He certainly got my attention! I stared at him quizzically wondering why a strange man would want to give me $100?
“I don’t live too far from here and could sure use a blowjob!” he said with a shrug, casual as can be.
Suddenly, it all registered in my pea-brain. Shocked, I picked up my pack and said, “I’m not like that, see ya!”
Handing me his card, he said: “Well, take this in case you change your mind.”
I shoved the little card it in my pocket - knowing I would ever change my mind - and would toss when we were out of sight … I just wanted to get away quickly. Without another word, I hurriedly walked away.
I avoided that park from then on, finding another one that offered privacy to sleep and out-of-sight of prying eyes. Discovering a dried-up culvert, I made it my new home sheltered from the nightly thunderstorms. Eating one meal a day at McDonalds, my money was soon running low after a week, and I resorted to trash-bins behind restaurants competing among the alley-cats. Going back home was not an option … somehow I would fend for myself no matter what hardships I had to endure.
“I saw yer sign in the window for a stock boy?” I meekly inquired to the elderly hardware store owner.
“How old are ya, kid?”
“Almost 14, sir. But I’m a hard worker!” I replied self-confidently.
“I’m sure you are, kid. But around here you have to be 15 in order to work - labor laws.” he replied. “Sorry, young fella - git yerself a lawn-mowing job!”
Heeding his advice after several other potential employers turned me down, I began knocking on neighborhood doors. At the point of almost giving up, an elderly lady gave me $10 to help her move junk out of her garage into a rent-a-bin. She asked a lot of questions, which I answered with lies. She remained somewhat skeptical of my answers.
Back at my sewer-home, changing out of my soiled jeans into a pair of my cleanest dirty ones, I discovered the little card that the pervert gave me nearly 3-weeks ago that I’d forgotten about. I hated myself for even thinking about taking him up on his offer mindlessly stuffing it back in a pocket.
The next few days brought constant rains. Waking up one night wet and cold - discovering water had begun to trickle through the culvert - I spent the remainder inside a bus shelter, disheartened and hungry, garbage trucks had already emptied the bins. With my dirty and disheveled appearance, store clerks were immediately alert every time I walked through the door thus thwarting any petty shoplifting attempts that would have normally went against my true nature had I not been so desperate.
Later that evening I stood on the street in front of the address on the card. After circling the block several times trying to gather courage and ward-off my self-loathing I walked up to door of the small house and rang the bell, my hand trembling in fear.
“Well, well, look who’s here!” the man answered amused. He was wearing a white robe and slippers, --I could hear a television in the background. “You look like shit, kid! Come on in out of the rain.”
I kicked my shoes off at the door and entered barefoot - I had given up on wearing dirty socks some days before - and followed Alex to the living room where he invited me to sit on the sofa. The home was nicely furnished and decorated prompting me to wonder if there was a Mrs Alex. I doubted that, however, given the lurid reason for my original invitation.
“You stink, James,” he winced his nose. “How about you have a shower while I make you something to eat?”
Both proposals appealed to me. “I’d like that very much, sir.”
“Call me Alex … sir makes me feel old,” he laughed. “Follow me.”
Wearing the robe he mentioned was hanging on the bathroom door, I sat at the kitchen table and devoured cold fried chicken and potato salad, which he claimed his mom made a batch of that day. “It’s awesome!” I almost blurted it was as good as my mom used to make, --deciding against it … the less he knew about me the better.
We chatted quite a long time while drinking graciously offered beer relieved that Alex was not enquiring into my personal affairs. Perhaps he, as well, wanted to know as little as possible keeping our relationship at arms length and thus able to send me packing - back out in the rain and cold - once he was finished using me.
Alex must have been reading my mind. “You can stay the night if you want, as long as you cooperate, James,” he said with a sly grin. “I’ll even give you an extra $100 for your efforts!”
I was frightened to death, debating if I should leave to save my dignity and simply thank him for the meal. Just then, the wind howled and pelted rain against the kitchen window, making my mind up for me … no way in hell did I want to endure another night in the elements huddled in a bus shelter.
“I’ll try,” was all could think to say. Earlier in my dilemma of contemplating matters thinking maybe just a hand-job would suffice, --I soon abandoned that naive notion … I was in for a whole lot more than I imagined!
The thunder was almost deafening. At one point the lights began to flicker before darkness fell over the kitchen. Alex lit some candles and we sat drinking more beer. Rather too quickly out of sheer nervousness, before too long I was feeling the lightheaded effects surprisingly relaxed.
I followed Alex who carried two candles to light the way to his bedroom, setting one on each night-stand either side of a large four-poster bed immaculately made up with many decorative pillows, not unlike the ones my mother used every morning on her own bed. He tossed them on the floor and folded down the sheets. Standing in front of me he ran one hand through my hair, the other over my chest, tweaking my nipples. Shaking like a leaf, I was never as frightened as I was at that point.
He uncovered my shoulders and let the robe fall. Standing naked in front of someone for the first time was intimidating, but perhaps the dim candle-lit room made it slightly easier to bear … not to mention the liquid courage from the five beers I consumed. Alex got on his knees and fondled me, his hand I found warm and disturbingly nice … his mouth even better. I truly believed I would never get an erection as the idea of being with another guy disgusted me. However, he managed to entice my cock to its full 5-inches, despite my attempts to will it away.
“Very nice, James,” he whispered. “Bigger than I thought you’d be!”
I suppose a certain sense of pride came over me, although the anxiety remained, --guys should not be doing such things! Alex began to lick my balls and gently take each nut in his mouth revolving his tongue around it. All the while he ran a finger up and down my crack pausing a few seconds to massage my hole. I could no longer deny the pleasure he was laying on my genitals … and strangely, my asshole.
He guided me to the bed and lay me on my tummy. What followed next had me delirious. I would have never guessed that a rectum could possibly be made to feel so good, or that anyone would dare use their tongue in such a disgusting place. I hoped he didn’t expect the same treatment from me … that’s where I would surely draw the line.
The erotic feelings soon gave way to sharp pains when Alex began forcing a finger inside. Once again, in my naive knowledge of gay-sex, I couldn’t fathom any pleasure being derived by such a heinous act. That was until I felt a bolt of electricity ricochet through my body making and my cock so hard it ached. “Oh fuck!” I remember screaming out with my head reared. I think it was then that I allowed myself to be at peace with my conscience succumbing to Alex’s mercy.
Alex rolled me onto my back and began to suck me with vigor, his teasing finger never left its burrow. No self-administered hand-job had ever been so gratifying an orgasm and Alex took it all in his mouth. By that stage, nothing could possibly gross me out!
“You enjoyed that, I see!” Alex giggled laying beside me with his head propped up on his hand and a finger caressing my nipple in a circular motion. His breath hinted the odor of my cum. “I knew you wouldn’t have any regrets once you relaxed. You kids are all the same, --you want it but refuse to admit it at first.”
I prefered not to respond and incriminate myself. After my orgasm, I became withdrawn and confused. It was then I saw his cock for the first time. It was thick and long, slumped over his left thigh. Inevitably, I would be forced to get to know it more intimately. Sure enough, Alex rolled onto his back - my cue. I was hoping to get it over with quickly.
At first, I leaned over his left side. However, he wanted me between his legs, where I got an optimum view of his man-stuff … heavy-looking balls that didn’t hang so much as they flared; a cut 7-inches resting lazily on his lower stomach, probably as thick as the handgrip of a tennis racket warm and soft in the palm of my hand. Hauling it upright to my lips and swallowing my pride, I took it partly in my mouth, and fisted the lower shaft. Having no prior experience, I actually amazed myself at devising a technique which Alex commented on approvingly … although I didn’t appreciate being told I was a natural-born cocksucker.
Ten minutes later, a bitter taste was realized, his cum was gathering in my mouth. I had anticipated a warning and received none; then again, I hadn’t warned him of my impending orgasm. The taste was sour, the texture thick and slimy. Gagging, I spat the goop over his belly along with the bile that rose from my throat. Alex wasn’t angry; he merely wiped the shit off himself with a small hand-towel he must have kept somewhere within reach for such occasions.
I fell asleep with a lingering taste in my mouth but appreciating the warmth and comfort of a bed not enjoyed since I left home a month ago. I awoke to the tantalizing smell of bacon frying, donned the robe, and wandered into the kitchen.
“Good morning, sunshine!” was the jubilant greeting from Alex standing at the stove bare-assed and wearing an apron, the humorous sight of which caused me to laugh. “Lose the robe and ya might get fed, smart -ass!” he chuckled.
I guess all inhibitions had faded by then. With my robe gathered on the floor, we ate breakfast together in the nude returning afterward to the bed engaged in a sixty-nine with him on the bottom. I had only minor reservations about swallowing when Alex’s cock pulsed and twitched and the familiar taste surged forth. I suppose it was a moment of truth that had I came first might have impeded my lustful drive to pleasure him milking the last drop from his flaccid cock. as soon as I came the feelings of guilt and shame enveloped me again.
That night, my introduction to gay sex was complete when Alex fucked me. Never had I felt so much pain. The purpose behind Alex’s motive of placing his leather wallet between my teeth became all too clear. The man was heavy on my body, his arms tight around my shoulders that also prevented escape from under him. With no other choice, I endured his wrath believing that I passed out at some point reaching my threshold of pain.
The unseasonal and inclement weather continued day in and day out, with flash flooding reports received on the transistor radio without power once again. I ended up spending a week with Alex, my gratitude being expressed two or three times a day never quite getting used to anal sex. My teeth marks embedded in his leather wallet became a mutual laughing point
Alex and I had many intimate conversations. I even told him my real name as well as personal details and the reasons that led up to me being in his home. Whiling away the time listening to the storm, Alex taught me how to play chess which I excelled at, soon becoming a worthy opponent after a few days … although I lost every match in the end. I also enjoyed the freedom of being naked along with Alex, there was no need to ever dress. As well, I became rather promiscuous giving him spontaneous blowjobs beit while he was cooking, cleaning, under the table at mealtime, or as we leisurely watched television … “You little nympho.” Alex wold say. “I’ve created a monster!”
He later finally convinced me to go home and drove me the 50-miles. “Don’t forget this,” he said, handing me an envelope containing much more than the original agreed price of $200. He smiled and added, “Buy that bike you told me about.” I seen the tears welling in his eyes. Closing the car door I never looked back, tears of my own rolled down my face.
My parents were elated and relieved to see me, they would never know my crying had very little to do with our reunion. Boarding school was never mentioned again. My grades did pick up somewhat, but I started attending a vocational high-school taking electronics when it became apparent that I wasn’t academically inclined … it was the best thing that ever happened to me.
I never did see Alex again but will never forget him. We both got what we wanted, --me, a warm bed and food; him, sexual favors, maybe even company as he seemed like a lonely man to me. I never experienced gay sex again … that is, until my later years as a widower spotting the forlorn, lost-looking kid sitting on a park bench with an over-stuffed backpack at his feet!
But that’s a story for another time.
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