by
Part 5: The Young American - I
Every now and then, as a shota boy, you met a trick that was really memorable. Not memorable because of some perved-out fantasy he wanted to act out, or because he wanted to plumb the depths of depravity with you, or because of the inventiveness of the degradation he wanted to inflict on you. But memorable because he was kind, considerate, or just simply a nice guy. Don't get me wrong, most of my tricks on the whole were quite amenable. Even the gruff and ill-tempered ones did not pose a challenge for me. I knew how to handle them. But I was also realistic. I knew I couldn't afford to be too cavalier about it. This was my work. I respected it because it kept me fed. Most of the time it was a pretty utilitarian transaction, whereby I went through the motions, submitting to whatever they wanted to do. If I cummed too during the process, that was a bonus. If the client was pleasant and respectful, that made for a more enjoyable encounter. If they were interesting to boot, that was even better. For the most part, there was no emotion. It was quite passionless actually, just a mechanical process designed to induce an orgasm. It could leave you feeling pretty much like a fuck machine at times. But once in a while you had a trick that you actually felt something for. There were those very rare occasions where you met a guy you really liked and for whom you had a genuine affinity. The American was one such guy.
Let me tell you about the American. He was pretty hot. You could always tell the Americans. They were so clean looking and had such great teeth. This one was young, a pretty stud of 18 or 19, and he walked in with an arrogant swagger and a knapsack slung over one shoulder. On his hip, there was a holstered pistol. There was a brief silence, during which the hubbub in the room lowered temporarily - it always did when a new and unfamiliar face entered. But he looked innocuous enough and, significantly, he was on his own. He descended the stairs, clattering down the wooden staircase in his big clodhopper boots. His boots were leather, and very well made. He had tight black pants on, which accentuated the muscles in his thighs. His camouflage tunic was undone, so that you could see the tanned skin of his bare chest underneath, his trim, tightly ridged stomach disappearing tantalizingly under the webbed belt that was holding up his pants. He was tall and lean, and around his head was a large, brightly colored bandana, expertly tied at the back, half covering his ears. Beneath that he had a thick head of black hair, a bushy halo of loose curls, which flopped about as he turned his head to survey the room. In one ear he had an earring, a thick hoop of gold, which lent him something of the look of a buccaneer. At the same time, he was chewing away suavely, his firm, handsome jaw masticating on a rather large blob of gum. Pausing at the bottom of the stairs, he took a cursory look around. He was almost baby-faced, with big round eyes that were bright and friendly, and quite thick black eyebrows that framed his eyes nicely. He spotted me sitting on the corner stool at the bar and focused on me, I suppose because I was nearest the door. Then he meandered through the crowd towards me and leaned across the bar next to me. He looked around at me, and I could see his bright, sparkling eyes roving over my naked body as I was neatly perched on that stool next to him. I felt a twitch of delight in my crotch as his eyes deliberated for rather too long on my cock.
'Hey lil man, what's good to drink around here?'
'Try this,' I said, proffering my glass.
He smiled as though I had said something quaint, and I could see a flash of white. I was right - he had great teeth.
He took my glass and was about to lift it to his lips, but he hesitated, the glass hovering just below his chin. He raised his other hand and took the big blob of gum out of his mouth, then drained what was left of my drink, pausing to wipe his lips with the back of his hand. Then he looked back at me and nodded approvingly.
'You sold it to me lil man,' he said.
The American moved over and stood directly in front of me. He stood really close, so that he was towering over me as I sat there, his thighs pressed against my bare knees. He put one hand on my shoulder and lifted my chin with the other, and he looked down at me.
'Y' know, you're kinda cute lil man, what's your name?'
'Cloud,' I said shyly.
'Well Cloud, will ya have a drink with me?'
'Sure. Whatever you want,' I said.
He took off his knapsack, unhooking the strap from his shoulder, and put it on the floor by his feet. It looked heavy. With his other hand he grabbed my jaw tightly, his finger and thumb pressing into my cheeks. My mouth opened slightly and he popped his used piece of gum into my mouth, closing my jaw shut. He held his hand over my mouth, studying my face closely, looking into each of my eyes in turn. I could feel the gum on my tongue, still warm from his mouth, and I started chewing on it. He smiled. He had quite a friendly face. I liked the neat, young stubble on his jaw, which had not yet acquired the fullness of an adult beard, and was still soft and sparse enough to tickle when he kissed me, as I was sure he would later. For me it just added to his mystique. Despite his predatory approach, he appeared very unthreatening. I looked up into his warm brown eyes and I knew straight away he was going to be fun. I bet he had a beautiful physique. I bet he had a big, stiff cock. I bet his cum was delicious.
'Yeah, you sure are cute,' he said, staring into each of my eyes in turn.
At that point Ten arrived and leaned over the bar to take his order.
'What's your pleasure sir?'
The American rested his hands on my shoulders, to indicate that I was now his for the evening, and he settled on a glass of Black Death, the specialty of the house.
'And one for my buddy here,' he added, slapping his palm down affectionately on my shoulder.
Ten pushed two glasses of the dark liquid across the counter and the American threw down a pile of crinkled dollar bills. Good old greenbacks. US dollars were the only currency around here.
'Keep 'em comin' until that's all used up,' he said, pushing the little pile of dollar bills across the bar.
The American looked at his glass and raised it to his lips, then drained the whole glass, slamming it back down on the bar.
Ten fixed him another one. Then with his glass in his hand, the American turned his attention back to me.
'So what do you do Cloud?' he asked enquiringly.
'Anything you want,' I said, chewing on his gum, 'I'm here to please you.'
'You're already pleasing me lil man,' he said, glancing strategically at my crotch, and took another swig of his drink.
I knew that look. He wanted my cock. Probably wanted to play with it. Maybe he even liked to suck little hairless dicks like mine. There was only one way to find out.
'Hmm, Cloud…' he said, savoring the sound of it, and looking wondrously up towards the ceiling, 'That's a cute name.'
'Thanks,' I said, chuffed by his compliment.
'What's your last name Cloud?' he went on.
'Nine,' I said, laconically.
He hesitated a moment, not immediately grasping the joke. Then he broke into a sly smile.
'Oh, I like that,' he chuckled.
The Americans always did.
'What's YOUR name?' I asked, reciprocating.
'Cigarette,' he said, curtly.
I quite liked the way he said it. He said it the American way, with the emphasis on the first syllable.
'But my friends call me Ciggy,' he went on.
I smiled, vaguely amused by his unusual nickname.
'Why?' I asked, crinkling my nose in bemusement.
'I used to smoke a lot,' he said resignedly, 'but now I mainly just chew gum.'
It was a good story, I decided.
'Where are you from Cloud?' he asked.
'Around,' I said vaguely, rolling his gum around in my mouth.
I wasn't really in the mood to go into convoluted details about how I had suffered a head injury and lost my memory and all that. It would have killed the conversation even before it had started.
'Where are YOU from?' I asked him.
'I'm from a place far, far away from here,' he said, mystically, 'A place called Topeka. Y' know where that is?'
'Kansas,' I said, emphatically.
He was genuinely taken aback, visibly blinking in surprise.
'You know it?' he said, astounded.
'Of course,' I said, suavely.
'How come?'
'I read a lot,' I replied cryptically.
'Well, I'll be….' he exclaimed, 'Y' know, I've travelled all over Europe and goddamn, if you ain't the only charlie I've spoken to that's heard o' Topeka, Kansas.'
I smiled to myself. I wasn't just a pretty face. I may have been a fuckboy but I was no doof. I may have been blond, but I was no bimboy. I spent a lot of time in my room, and when I wasn't playing with Chip's little dick, I was reading. The atlas was one of my favorite books. America was one of my favorite subjects, so I knew all the state capitals of the USA.
'So what brings you to this hell-hole?' I asked him.
He cocked his head, pursing his lips in thought.
'I came to seek my fortune,' he said, raising his eyebrows, 'Where there's war, there's money. I'm just collecting up some insurance to take back home with me.'
Great. Just what I need, I thought, another mercenary. Europe was chock full of them.
So that was how we got talking. Ciggy seemed like a great guy. We spent ages just shooting the breeze about what it was like living in Kansas, and how he had given up on ever having the opportunity to go to college because he happened to be trapped in Europe when the war broke out. He couldn't get home, so he just had to make the best of it. He was waiting until he could save up enough money to take back home with him, although I never asked him what exactly was 'enough' or how exactly he was acquiring this money.
After talking for a good long time, it seemed clear that he would want to stay the night. He happily paid the going rate and readily threaded his greenbacks into my arm-strap. Great, I thought. Here was a pretty decent guy who seemed quite down to earth and might actually be a pleasure to spend the night with. He wasn't shady or threatening and wasn't likely to be overly demanding in his sexual pursuits, nor give me a hard time. He was also very handsome. It followed that he must be a good fuck. My little cock was imperceptibly stiff all the time we were talking, aching to be fondled by him.
He managed to down several glasses of Black Death, which was unusual for someone who had just tasted the drink for the first time. For many it was an acquired taste, but he seemed to take to it almost instantly. I just had the one, and even that was heavily diluted. I knew my limits, and I knew it didn't pay to drink too much. I was still quite small in stature, and too much alcohol deadened my senses. It didn't seem to affect my little stiffie, because my cock was still as hard as steel, but I liked to keep my senses sharp. The clients didn't like it if you were slurring and incoherent. Although, even then, there were those who would have fucked you even if you WERE unconscious. Hell, some of them might have even PREFERRED you to be unconscious. They wouldn't then have to make the effort of interacting with you. Mind you, some of the tricks had such a grave lack of personality I might have preferred to be unconscious too.
With an air of jubilation, I took Ciggy's hand and slipped out of the club with him in tow. We meandered out of the back, brushing past a couple of comatose UNHCR workers, who were slumped on the stairs probably stoned shitless. Maybe they were the very same ones that were always there trading with the militiamen, who knows?
When we got to the top of the stairs, I led Ciggy along the musty passageway to my dingy room, and let him in. I slipped in behind him, making sure I locked the door. I invited him to make himself comfortable while I went into the adjoining room to put away my evening's spoils. Conveniently, I had one of the very few rooms in the hotel that had an adjoining door. This had once been two interconnecting bedrooms, but I had turned the adjoining room into a little sitting room and study where I kept my music and my books. I had a secret hiding place on the bookcase where I stashed all my dough, just behind “The Collected Works of Oscar Wilde”. I stuffed the greenbacks into the little tin, replaced the lid, and put it back on the shelf, making sure I slotted the thick tome back in it's rightful place.
When I went back into the bedroom, my cock was already hard in anticipation of some good sex. I expected to find Ciggy already in bed, or at least undressed, but he wasn't. He had sat down in the big armchair by the dresser and wasn't taking his clothes off. He was sitting there as though he had other things on his mind. I stopped, concerned that maybe he had changed his mind. Sometimes clients did that. They were fairly compliant and amenable about fucking me, until it got to the point that they were actually confronted with the reality that they were going to have to make wood and physically stick their dicks in me. Somehow, that prospect seemed to frighten some of them.
'Aren't you getting naked?' I asked, almost disappointed.
'No,' he replied, folding his arms across his lap.
'You don't want to fuck me?'
He shook his head regretfully.
'Oh, I want to,' he said, 'But I can't.'
I hesitated a moment. I was standing there with my hardened cock protruding from my crotch and it looked a bit forlorn, straining upwards with unrequited arousal.
'I'm impotent,' he said, 'Even the sight of you naked doesn't get me hard.'
I stared at him incredulous, my hairless little erection suspended there redundantly.
'It's not the alcohol?' I queried.
He shook his head.
'No, it's a permanent problem,' he explained, 'Don't worry, it's not you.'
'You mean…?'
He shook his head again.
'I can't do anything.'
'Oh,' I said, not knowing what to do.
That sounded pretty hopeless. Here was I, a 12 year old shota boy who could make wood at will, and who relied on my cock for my survival, and often misused it. I could see the paradox with this poor young man. He was handsome and sexy and should have been at the height of his sexual prowess. How could it be that his cock didn't work?
He rose up a little and leaned forward on the chair, then took off his camouflage tunic, so that his torso was fully exposed. He had a beautiful physique, lean and tight, with good musculature and flawless brown skin, obviously tanned from his exploits. Then he leaned way back on the chair, so that he was almost lying down, his chin resting on his smooth chest. I could see the leanness of his tight flat stomach, and the rigid sections of his six pack were clearly visible beneath his flawless brown skin.
'You spunk?' he asked.
'Yeh,' I asserted, 'I spunk good.'
'Can I just watch you?'
'What you mean…?' and I grasped my cock and jacked it a couple of times.
He nodded.
'Cum on me,' he said, 'Will you do that for me?'
'What there?' I asked, pointing to his chest.
'On my face,' he said.
He removed his bandana, exposing his thick head of loose black curls, and I loved the way he shook his head to loosen his hair up. I looked at him. He was pretty and all, in his own way, with those neat, handsome, baby-faced features, that mussed-up hair and that gold earring. Actually he had quite a spunkable young face. I could just see my clear spunk trailing down his cheeks with that immature stubble on his jaw.
'Okay,' I said, 'but can I try something first?' pointing to his crotch.
'Sure,' he said, totally non-committal, 'Knock yourself out.'
He relaxed, laying his arms on each side of the chair and opened his knees in invitation. I then got down on the floor between his knees. What I liked was that he reached over and stroked my shoulders and my bare back as I crouched before him. I was pleased that all the peripheral sexual rituals and affectations were not completely lost on him. He liked my naked body. That was a good sign.
I reached in and unfastened his webbed belt, undoing his tight black pants. I pulled down the front of his boxers and burrowed my hand into his crotch. He helped me by lifting his butt off the chair so that I could pull his pants and boxers down over his knees. I took hold of his limp cock, nestling there in a neat thatch of pure black pubes. He watched me studiously as I did so. His cock was warm and substantial and smelled very clean. It had a good girth to it and was quite prettily cut. It was a beautiful cock, which would have been a monster when erect. What a shame it had no life in it. I took the floppy snake into my mouth and gave it a few token sucks, all the time looking up into his eyes from between his knees. He had a look on his face that said, 'boy if I could get this thing to work I would give your little ass such a hammering'. Alas, it never came to life, even though I sucked on it good and hard, jacked it a few times and even grazed the head with my teeth. You could see the longing in his eyes.
I let the head of his heavy dick slip from between my lips and scooted up, mounting him even as he was sitting in the chair. I got astride his lap and dug my knees into the seat either side of him, so that the fleshy inner part of my thighs were hugging his narrow hips. I lowered my naked butt down so that his limp cock was nestled in my ass crack, warmly incubated by my perineum. I took hold of my stiff little dick, which looked tiny even compared to his limp adult dick, and I forced it downwards so that it was thrusting into his taut stomach, and I bounced up and down a little on his cock.
'Pretend you're fucking me,' I said, 'Just imagine your big, stiff fuckstick is digging right up into my ass right now…'
I threw my head back, just for effect, gasping and opening my mouth in a big O shape.
'Oh god… oh yeah, do it some more…!' I enthused, 'Oh fuck, you're gonna make me cum so hard...!'
He looked alarmed, almost incredulous that he had this gorgeous naked little fuckboy squirming around on his lap, my stiff hairless cock digging wantonly into his abs. He was positively out of his depth, probably completely unprepared for my forwardness and precocity. Good. At least I could blow his mind, if nothing else.
'Fuck me!' I went on, tossing my blond head around, screwing my eyes shut, still bouncing on his lap and jacking my dick furiously, 'Oh god, you're gonna fuck my spunk out!'
His eyes widened, passively drinking in my performance. Then he reached up and ran his palms ever so gently over my body, skimming my chest and tummy lightly, feeling me up as though I was something precious and fragile. His submissiveness was tremendously arousing to me. I knew I had him in my power. Tell the truth, I even surprised myself. I had managed to work us both up into a frenzy without having my ass fucked. That was a first, even for me.
In no time at all, I could feel that familiar burning urgency rising in my cock. I jacked it even faster, using my best stroke and a good even pace. When I knew that I was past the point of no return, I rose up on my knees and pointed my cock right at his face, closing in on the target just as my mission demanded. Just as my cock went into its spasms, I expertly flicked off my watery spunk right across his nose and lips, gasping loudly, actually taken by surprise at how powerful an orgasm it was. He closed his eyes and savored the feeling of my warm kiddiespunk splashing his face. It was quite watery, so that it dribbled in little rivulets down his face like cloudy tears.
When it was over, I sank back down on his lap, still holding my wet cock in one hand. He opened his eyes, then raised a hand to wipe his face. I stopped him.
'No,' I said, putting a hand out to bar him.
He lowered his arm, curious to see what I was going to do. I leaned forward and stuck my tongue out, and licked his face in one upward sweep, using my tongue to scoop as much of my spunk off his face as possible, rather like licking a large postage stamp. I curled my tongue into a little scoop, holding a little pool of my cum in the center, and then I leaned in, probed between his lips and stuck my tongue into his mouth, depositing my essence right inside. He closed his lips around my protruding tongue and instinctively sucked it all off. He knew what to do. I watched his Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallowed, even sucking his palate clean afterwards as though savoring the taste.
He looked at me, a bit shell shocked, but nonetheless satisfied. I stared right back at him, still perched on his lap.
'You're really somethin' else kid,' he said, breathlessly.
I smiled mischievously.
'They say I'm the best,' I said, a little blasé.
'I can believe that,' he replied.
At that point I got up off his lap, climbing down off the chair, and went over to the bathroom to clean up. I could feel his eyes following me as I moved, and he admired me from across the room. I kinda felt sorry for him, so I stopped just by the bathroom door and held out my hand.
'C'mon,' I said, 'Shower with me.'
He seemed taken aback.
'You wanna SHOWER with me?'
'If you can't cum you may as well get the benefit of showering with me,' I said, 'I don't offer that to all my tricks.'
He smiled, genuinely flattered. Again he flashed his perfect teeth. He really did have a very nice smile.
'Y'know, I like you Cloud,' he said, genuinely touched.
'Thanks,' I said, 'I like me too.'
He chuckled at my arrogance and I was pleased that he got up and started getting undressed completely. I noticed his crotch still had a little gob of my cum where my post-orgasmic little dick had sunk down and leaked the residue of my cum onto his black pubes, just above the base of his flaccid cock. It looked almost like he had cum on himself.
He extricated himself from his jeans, like a snake shedding its dead skin. He had a fine physique, every bit as pretty as his dead cock, with quite well defined musculature. Other than his pubes and underarms, his body was smooth all over, save for a fine dusting of very thin hair on his calves. He stood up finally naked and waited. My cock was standing up once again, reaching maximum elevation. It never went down after just one cum and was no doubt spurred on by the sight of his gorgeous teen body. It wavered stiffly in my crotch, redundantly pointing upwards, and he smiled at the sight of it.
'Doesn't it ever go down?' he asked, amused.
'Can't help it,' I said, 'It obviously likes you.'
He smiled, looking flattered.
'C'mon,' I said, taking his hand, and led him into the bathroom.
It was strange. Here I was, a little 12 year old shota boy, and there was this young adult who seemed so much older than me, and yet he let me take charge. He put himself completely at my mercy, and I suddenly felt very mature, very grown up, and very powerful. We both stood in the shower quite close to each other, confined by the glass partition of the cubicle, and he shivered slightly in the coolness of the bathroom. Then I turned on the water jets and let the shower run until there was steam billowing up around us. Gently, I took some soap and lathered him up all over. My small hands looked so frail ministering to his muscled physique. But he said nothing. He just watched, with this look of curious fascination on his lips, and seemed very acquiescent to whatever I wanted to do. His floppy curls of hair were soon plastered flat against his head by the shower jets and he watched me through the water running off his face. I treated him to a lovely warm shower, making sure I lathered up every inch of his body, even running my hands over his firm butt and into the groove of his crotch. I lathered up his heavy balls and cock, almost like I was jerking that limp piece of teen meat, which was still substantial even in its permanent dormant state. Finally, I got him to rotate under the water jets to rinse off all the white foam. I swear I was hard all the way through.
Afterwards, when we were both standing outside the cubicle, drying off, he suddenly stopped and let the big bath towel fall from around his shoulders and he looked at me with a longing stare. It was slightly unnerving.
'What?' I asked.
He stepped closer, turning to face me head on, and stared deep into my eyes.
'You're really somethin' else kid, you know that?'
It was the second time he'd said that.
'Gee thanks,' I said, shrugging it off with a laugh.
He carried on staring intensely, showing me that he was serious and that I should listen carefully to what he was saying.
'I mean it Cloud, you're special.'
'Gee, you're full of compliments aren't you?' I replied, humbled by his flattery.
'Yeah, and bullshit,' he laughed, 'but then, aren't we all?'
We both laughed good naturedly for a few moments, then paused, standing there in a slightly awkward silence. Then he did something I was totally unprepared for. He leaned over, wrapped one arm around my neck, and drew me towards him, zeroing in on my lips, and kissed me very hard on the mouth. My body fell against him, and I felt his warmth and suppleness, still a little wet from the shower. It surprised me because kissing didn't usually figure in my repertoire. Cum-swapping, snowballing and felching yes. Kissing no. Even when I had jacked my kidspunk into his face the temptation to kiss had not arisen. It felt odd doing it after the event.
Stopping to draw breath, he released me, still holding me real close, and spoke softly, right into my face.
'You're beautiful lil man,' he whispered softly.
'Thanks,' I said, staring up at him, still in his embrace.
'I think I'm falling in love with you,' he replied.
Oh fuck. Not another one, I thought. They all said that. It was nothing new. One quick fuck and they automatically wanted to possess me. They rent my ass for an hour or two and already they wanna buy me outright. In this case he hadn't even fucked me. He had tasted my spunk, that was about as intimate as it got. Now suddenly he was IN LOVE with me? Gimme a break.
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