Fresh Dairy Ice Cream Emporium


The boy is real. The rest is a product of my imagination.

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Fresh Dairy Ice Cream Emporium

The Fresh Dairy Ice Cream Emporium was in a half-deserted strip mall. The only other establishment of note was a Powell's book store. The ice cream joint was the last survivor of the food court. All the other food places had closed.

I had passed it numerous times before stopping and to tell the truth, it wasn't a desire for ice cream that made me stop. They had hired a new boy who was dishing up ice cream and making the concoctions they were famous for, such as Chocolate Devotions, a delicious mixture of chocolate ice cream, chocolate chips, brownies, and who knows what else, but they were all chocolate, and they were delicious. I fucking loved chocolate, but as much as I did, I liked the looks of the boy making the Chocolate Devotions even more. They couldn't have made a boy more to my specifications.

He was short, looked about fifteen but had to be eighteen to work there. He had long, light-brown, hair, a narrow face and dimpled chin. His lips were thin but not too thin, definitely kissable, and damned if I didn't want to lean over the counter and plant one on them.

"What can I get for you?" he asked, flashing a fantastic smile.

"A Chocolate Devotion," I said.

"What size?"

"Make it a large."

"Haven't seen you in here before," he said.

"I haven't seen you in here either," I said, and being more daring than usual -- maybe it was the vibes I was picking up from him -- "else I would have been a regular customer."

He laughed: "What's your name?"

"Zach," I said.

"I'm Keenan," he said, "I'd shake hands but..." He held up his hands displaying the clear plastic gloves he was wearing.

"That's cool," I said. "Maybe we can meet up sometime when you're not wearing an apron and gloves.

"The mall closes at nine, and I'm out of here about fifteen minutes after."

It was only a little after five, but I figured I could hang around, maybe spend some time in Powell's or in the BestBuy down the street.

"I think I could keep myself busy until then," I said.

"You sure? You won't change your mind?"

"I won't change my mind. I'll be here at closing time. You can count on it."

"You got a car?"

"I got a car."

"Cool," he said. "I rode the bus. Maybe, you can give me a ride home after we get to know each other."

Hoping his `get to know each other' meant what I hoped it meant, I said, "I'll take you to bum-fucked Egypt if that's where you're going."

Another customer walked up to the counter ending our conversation, and I sat at one of the tables eating my ice cream and watching him work. He was sweet, every bit as sweet as the ice cream. My dick was hard with anticipation.

After killing the four hours at Powell's and at BestBuy, I came back at a quarter to nine. Not seeing him at first, I was afraid he'd led me on and was feeling lelt down, but he came out from the backroom, grinned, and said, "You did come back."

"Of course, I came back."

"I'll just be a few," he said, "then we can leave."

"I'll be here."

As he promised, we were out of there by a quarter after nine.

"Where's your car?"

"Over behind the theater," I said.

"Wish I had a car. I'm tired of riding the bus and living at home."

"With your parents?"

"Yeah. Fucked, isn't it?"

"Hell, I was probably living with my parents at your age."

"How old are you," he asked.

"Twenty-six. Is that too old?"

"Fuck no. I like older guys. I've alway had a thing for older guys."

"How old are you?"

"Just turned eighteen. This is my first real job, mixing up fucking ice cream dishes."

"You do an excellent job. That Chocolate Devotion was delicious."

"Yeah, like it takes a lot of smarts. They tell you how much of each ingredient to use and all."

"Yeah, but not everyone can mix them together like you can," and as a test to see if I was right about him, I said, "I got a hard-on watching you."

Looking at me and grinning, he said, "I thought maybe you did. Are we doing it in your car, or are we going to your place?"

"You are a fast mover, Kid. Do you always hook up like this, a quick meeting and then bed?"

"I'm no hooker," he said, "but if I please you, I can use the money. Like I said, I'm tired of living at home. It's not like I'd leave work with just anyone. You're hot, and I'd have sex with you even if you don't pay me, but if you want seconds, you would have to pay for it. If that doesn't suit you, you can drop me off at the bus stop."

"Let's say I'm pretty sure I'd want seconds. What's the going price?"

"My going price is a couple of Benjamin Franklins."

"You don't come cheap, Kid."

"Don't call me `kid.' I hate it when guys call me `kid.'"

"Sorry, I won't call you `kid.' It's Keenan, right?"

"And you're Zach? Is that short for Zachary?"

I laughed: "Yeah, but you're Keenan, and I'm Zach, all right?"

"Cool," he said, "are we going to your place? We can do it in the back seat, but I figure you get more of your money's worth in your bed at home."

"Are you worth $200?"

"Ain't had any complaints," he said. "Hey, I know I'm not very big -- very tall -- but I'm big where it counts."

"You mean your dick?"

"Uh huh."

We were seated in my car by then, me behind the steering wheel and him in the passenger seat. He undid his pants and pulled out his dick. It was hard and had to be better than eight inches long. It looked out of place on a kid his size.

"Fuck!" I said.

"Bigger than yours?"

"By a couple of inches at least," I said.

Mine's just a little over five-and-a-half inches, above average perhaps, but not by much.

"Are we going to your place?" he asked.

"Yeah, we're going to my place, but I need to stop at a ATM machine first."

"Cool," he said.

Stopping at an ATM machine, I withdrew the money he wanted and a little more. The machine gave me twenties, not Benjamins, but I figured it would be all right with him. Shit! I had never paid for sex, but I wasn't about to let him get away. The dick he had on him was worth $200 by itself, and what it was attached to wasn't too shabby either. Fuck! He was hot.

When I came back to the car, I handed him the $200 he'd asked for. His dick was still out of his pants, and it was still hard.

"Hey, you don't have to pay me up front."

"I figured we'd get that out of the way so you don't have to worry about getting paid. You can concentrate on giving me my money's worth."

"If you're not satisfied with my performance, you can have a refund," he said.

"Has anyone ever asked for a refund?"

"Not so far."

"I'll bet not," I said. As we drove off, he reached over and pulled my dick out, leaned over, and took it into his mouth. "Oh fuck. Keep that up and I'm gonna spurt."

Turning his face up, looking at me, he said, "You're not so old that you're not good for more than one spurt, are you? Want me to stop?"

"No, don't stop."

Fuck! If I was only good for one spurt, I was ready for it. I didn't know when I'd been so turned on. Just the thought of having that lovely mouth wrapped around my cock was almost more than I could bear. It was hot, soft, and wet, and he took my dick in so far his nose was burying itself in my pubic hair. I spurted and spurted and he swallowed it all, coming up for air only after I'd finished, when he looked up and said, "That's only an appetizer. The full-course meal happens at your place."

I didn't exactly stay under the speed limit going home.

"How about a kiss?" he said, as I was putting my key into the lock of my apartment door, so I bent over to kiss him. He ran his tongue into my mouth, reaching for and grabbing my cock while he did. I pushed the door open and pulled him inside my apartment. He undid my belt and pants and pushed my pants and underwear down around my knees. I let them slid the rest of the way down, letting them collect around my ankles, and stepped out of them. Raising my arms, I let him take off my t-shirt. I had already kicked off my shoes, and except for my socks, I was naked. As I stood watching, he hummed some strip tease music and did a little dance while he took off his clothes. I stood mesmerized watching him until he was naked except for his socks. His dick stuck straight out from his crotch. It had to be too big and heavy to point up as mine did.

"I want to fuck you," he said.

"And I want to be fucked by you," I said, "but I got to get some K-Y first for that big dick of yours. It's not only long but thick as well. How did you ever grow one that big?"

Laughing, he said, "It's always been big, not this big, but always bigger than that of any other kid my age. I was masturbating by the time I was eight."

"How long have you been doing this?"


"Getting paid to fuck."

"Since I was thirteen."

"Who paid you the first time?"

"My math teacher in middle school. All us guys knew he was queer, and I'd sit in the front row with a hard-on while wearing tight pants. He couldn't take his eyes off it. One day, he asked me if I wanted a ride home. I said, `Sure,' and he fucked me in the back seat of his car. He didn't pay me that time, but he paid me after that, both for sex and to keep me quiet I guess. He couldn't get enough of me, and pretty soon, I was fucking him more than he was fucking me."

"Was that your first time to have sex?"

"Nah, I got fucked by an older neighbor kid when I was ten, before I'd started puberty.

"How old was he?"


"Were you willing, or did he rape you?"

"Willing. We'd been fooling around since I was eight. First, I just watched him jack off; then, I started jacking him off. Before long, I was going down on him, so getting fucked by him was just a natural progression in our sexual play."

"Did he ever do anything for you?"

"Yeah, he would blow me and jerk me off. Jerking off at that age didn't do much for me, but I liked getting blown. Sometimes, I would even climax."

"How big was your friend's dick?"

"A little over five inches, a little shy of average I guess, a little smaller than yours."

That comment made me feel a little self-conscious since my dick wasn't that much over five inches long. Keenan's dick definitely put mine to shame. "Did you like getting fucked?"

"Yeah, I liked it. Ain't much to do with sex I don't like. I like fucking, and I like getting fucked. I like sucking, and I being sucked. I might be only eighteen, but I've been having sex of one sort or the other since I was eight. I might have been having sex before you even. When did you have sex for the first time?"

"With another guy?" I asked.

"Yeah, with another guy -- or with a girl even if you swing that way, too. You ever have sex with a girl?"

"Yeah, once, but you might say she seduced me. I was a challenge: see if I can get the gay guy to fuck me kind of thing."

"How long have you known you were gay?" he asked.

"Forever," I said. "I knew I was gay before I knew what gay was. In first grade, it was the cute boys that got me excited not the cute girls. Hell, I hardly noticed them."

"So, when's the first time you had sex?"

"Fifteen," I said.

"Tell me about it."

"This friend of mine had gone on a campout with me and my family, and we had our own tent. I was turned on by him, but was too shy and afraid to try anything, so after we had turned out the lantern, I started jacking off in my sleeping bag. He wasn't asleep, and he knew what I was doing."

"What are you doing?" my friend said.


"You are too. You're jacking off."

"No, I'm not," I said, but I didn't stop doing it.

He pulled back my sleeping bag catching me in mid stroke, my hand wrapped around my hard dick. "Fuck, Man. Let me do it, and you can do me. It's more fun that way." He grabbed my dick and I grabbed his, and he was right: it was more fun that way. After we squirted, he said, "Blow me," and with a little instruction from him, I blew him, tasting cum for the first time. Next, he fucked me. It hurt, but I came, and I was hooked on it. We spent most of the night having sex. He never blew me or let me fuck him, but I didn't care. I think I discovered that night that I was a bottom. I love having dicks up me."

"And you want mine up you, don't you?" Keenan said.

"Fuck yes," I said. I was so horny for him by then that I didn't care if it hurt. The K-Y in the nightstand by my bed was too far away. He spit on his hand, rubbed the spit on my butt-hole, climbed on top of me, and pressed his big dick against the entrance to my hole. He thrust and kept thrusting until he was inside me. It hurt going in, but once he was inside of me, I loved it. His huge dick hit all the right spots and after a few thrusts by it, I came, squirting my jizz onto my belly. It took him a while longer to cum, but that was too soon for me. I wanted him to keep going forever.

He fucked me again; then we took a shower together and went into my bedroom where I blew him. His big dick filled my mouth. I was proud of my ability to deep-throat a guy, but I couldn't deep-throat him. His dick was just too fucking big. He fucked me again, and exhausted, we fell asleep. I awoke the next morning with him on top of me, his dick pressing against my hole. A thrust and it was inside me, and he was fucking me. I didn't cum, but I didn't care. I loved having him inside me.

We only had time for the one fuck before I had to take him to work. As we kissed in the car when I dropped him off, I slipped him another hundred. I'd never paid so much for sex -- hell, I'd never even paid for sex before - but it was worth it, and I figured the extra hundred was insurance to make sure he'd want another session with me. It might be a while before I could save up for another night, but I damn sure would save up for it. I couldn't think of a better way to spend my money.