Date: Sat, 04 Feb 2017 09:57:05 -0500 From: The Paternal Watcher Subject: Hot summer Between concern about skin cancer and worries over sexualization, there are fewer and fewer boys who will go without a shirt on hot summer days. For reasons I don't understand, most common among them are black boys. It could be cultural, or maybe it's actually genetic, but I definitely don't mind having the chocolate out on display. Unlike real chocolate, black boys don't melt when they get hot. I had stopped to gas up the car and grab a drink after my last customer call. It early afternoon, so even after the hour's drive ahead to get me home, it would prove to be a short day on the job. As I was paying, two black boys, aged around 13 and 15, walked in behind me. "Sorry, guys," the clerk said, pointing to the sign: no shirt, no shoes, no service. "But we got shoes," said the little one, but the cashier just shook his head, and they turned to go. Picking up my change, I lengthened my stride to reach the door before it closed behind them. "Hey, I'm wearing a shirt, so if you want me to get you something . . . " I said as I caught up with them. The two looked at each other, then sized me up: a six-foot-tall white guy in his mid-thirties, wearing beige slacks and a light blue polo shirt sporting the company logo. I definitely looked the dork, but I am not the fat middle-aged salesman yet. A couple more years in the car might change that, but that's a problem for another day. At the moment, the two boys looked like they were telepathically figuring out what to do. Finally, the taller one said, "Aight, we were gonna get a soda, but one of the guys who works here sells us beer when it's mad hot out like today." He didn't really make eye contact, and I'm not sure if his lips even moved while he was talking. I paused before replying. That wasn't what I was expecting, but it was probably a fair bit better than just talking to these slender, smooth-chested boys. "You live nearby?" I asked. They both nodded. "Well I can't just pick something like that up and bring to you out here, so if no one's home I could bring it to you there." They exchanged a glance, and then nodded. "We're just across the street, tan house next to the car lot. Park on the side street." I nodded slightly. "What does he usually sell you?" "Olde English 40s," he replied. I smiled a bit at the stereotype and he added, "Yeah, he thinks it's funny too, but it's what we like." As they left, I started to wonder if the clerk would get suspicious. He'd turned the kids away, then I turn around and want to make a second purchase of beer . . . could definitely look like I was doing what I was, in fact, doing. However, luck was on my side: the next guy in the door was wearing a company shirt, greeted the clerk at the register, and replaced his fellow at the front. Different guy, so no eyebrows raised. Buying the beer was no problem, and I tried not to run to the car in my excitement. I was nervous approaching the house with my package, but the door opened right away, the younger one ushering me in. When he saw my purchase -- five bottles in all -- he said, "Dude, you trippin'! Levorn, check it out!" Levorn did, and said, "No way I can drink two to the face, and Charles be walkin' round with his underwear on his head before he finishes the first one." Charles interrupted him with a "hey!" and a punch to the arm. Laughing, Levorn continued: "You want to take some of this back, or help us out?" I smiled. "My car's AC is out," I said, "and I guess you don't have any here, either." They shook their heads. "Well I might have gone overboard, and I need to cool off too, so I guess I'll stay and chill for a bit if it's okay." "Parents won't be home until mad late," said Charles, "so it's cool." Levorn nodded. I handed one to each of them, putting the others on the table but for my own, which I opened with a satisfying hiss as I sat on the tan sectional. Throwing his head back, Charles took a pull from his own bottle while still standing, and I saw that the skin under his arms was slightly lighter in color, and not interrupted by any hairs yet. He let out a loud belch and then flung himself down on the couch beside me, giggling madly. Levorn rolled his eyes. "This one gets drunk just looking at malt liquor," he said, opening his own. "Don't be a fool, Charles," he said after a sip, "we got time." The sectional wrapped around the corner, and he sat down around the bend, putting his feet up. They were on the other side of me from Charles, who seemed to be calming down a bit. Levorn was more developed than his brother, and I could see the line on each side of his abdomen, and the V of muscle that ran into his waistband to points beyond. He was just as smooth, though. The beer was cold, but I could feel the sweat beading on my forehead. I tried to wipe in on the short sleeve of my shirt, but Charles laughed again. "That's why we don't wear no shirts around here," he said. "Only wearing pants 'cuz Levorn says we got to with you here." I took another drink. "Don't let me make you feel awkward," I said. "I'll take off my shirt because it's a good idea, but you have to promise you'll only wear what you would if I wasn't here." Charles sat up excitedly. "Really?" he said. I nodded, and he looked to his older brother, who after a pause gave a little nod. I was pretty sure I heard him say, "Here we go" under his breath. The boy stood before me and, quick as a flash, had his pants and socks on the floor. He was left in a pair of blue boxer briefs which might have revealed interesting things, but Charles didn't appear to fill them out enough for that to happen. His legs were more muscular than his arms, but likewise free of any visible hair. He looked at me expectantly. "Right!" I said, remembering our deal. I peeled off my shirt and placed it carefully on the couch beside me, near Levorn's crossed legs. He realized that Charles and I were both looking at him, now. I tipped my bottle into my mouth to conceal my eagerness. Taking a pull on his own, Levorn said, "Fine," and pulled his pants off without actually getting up. His tone of voice wasn't sullen; it was more like a mixture of resignation and disinterest. He wriggled as he did it, and when he was done I was looking up his slightly spread legs to where they disappeared into striped boxers, which gapped just enough to make me want them to gap more. Charles returned to sitting beside me, his leg against mine adding to my body heat in the hot room. I didn't complain or pull away. "What kind you got?" he asked me. "What?" "He wants to know about your underwear," said Levorn. "Charles gets curious when he gets drunk." Only about a quarter of Charles' bottle was empty; Levorn and I had each finished more like a third of ours. Charles was in charge, or so it seemed. "You should take off those pants," he said, pointing at my khakis. "Gonna sweat through 'em here. Put 'em back on when you go." "I don't know about that," I said. "How 'bout if I put my underwear on my head?" he asked. I hesitated only a moment before saying, "That's random." "Told you," said Levorn. "Just looking for a excuse." "You can get naked if you want," I told Charles. "I told you, it's your house, your rules. You don't need an excuse." "Good, then take off your pants," he said in return. Maybe he wasn't as tipsy as he made out. Now it was my turn to stand. I unfastened my belt, untied and removed my shoes, and only then slid down my poly-cotton pants. Like Charles I preferred boxer briefs, although mine were a light grey and had a prominent bulge where the young teen's left more to the imagination. Charles smiled, then said, "Close your eyes." I did as he asked, covering with both hands before he was satisfied, but it was only for a few moments before he said, "Okay, you can look." He had climbed onto the foot rest, and the first thing I saw was that his blue boxer briefs were in fact upon his head. I didn't have time to notice much else, because with a voice-cracking scream he leaped on me, forcing me to catch him. Before I knew it, my forearm was supporting his bare ass, and his smooth legs were wrapped around my waist. "You good," he said, sliding down my leg. He flopped back down onto the couch, his own legs spread wide. "You hard," said Levorn, rolling his eyes. "I'm always hard when I'm naked. I like being hard," came his brother's reply. Levorn looked at me. "He's been like that since he learned, you know," he said, making the universal gesture. "It's all he think about, doing it with someone. He mad because I won't do anything with him." "Why not?" I asked, and Charles chimed in, "Yeah, why not?" "It's just gross. I know no one's getting pregnant and I'm cool with sex with dudes some but not with my brother. That's all." I completely agreed with him, but kept my mouth shut because I was curious where this was going. Charles folded his arms petulantly as I sat back down. "Charles, if you really want sex I'm sure you could find someone willing easily enough. You don't have to rush it, though." He rolled his eyes at me. "I ain't never got my dick sucked," he said, flicking his four-incher. "Levorn did once and it ain't fair." At that, his brother unconsciously adjusted his crotch, which was getting a bit more prominent. "Shut up, fool," he said to Charles. "I think about that and I'll get hard too." I was about to say something when Charles reached out and groped me. "We all gonna be hard soon," he said with a laugh. I had a feeling he wasn't wrong. The exact feeling was that of blood filling my penis as he fondled it. "Still think I can find someone willing for sex if I want?" he asked me with a smile. "Find someone to suck my dick?" As he fondled me, Charles was also stimulating himself. He wasn't exactly masturbating in the traditional way, more like humping his hand slowly. I looked pointedly at his young cock, then at mine, before moving my face close to his. "Sometimes the best way to get lucky to is give what you want to get," I said. "What?" he said. "Here, fool, let me show you," said Levorn. He stood up, shucking his underpants to reveal a handsome hard-on, 5-6 inches long and pointing a bit more up than out. Levorn moved his brother's hand away, got down on his knees between my own, and unceremoniously started bobbing on my own cock. I groaned with surprise and pleasure while his brother gasped with delight. After about thirty seconds, Levorn stopped and stood up on the couch, one foot on each side of me. To Charles, he said, "Now I get my reward." Aiming his penis at my face, he said, "Open wide." I did, without hesitation, and he slid his meat home. I grabbed Levorn's ass and, because he was so skinny, easily took control of the pace and depth of his thrusts to maximize the fun for both of us. "Yeah," he hissed, "suck that dick." He curled his fingers into my hair and fucked my mouth, his balls slapping my chin the only sound other than my slurping for what seemed like a long time. Watching his taut, brown body coming at me again and again proved a near-impossible temptation to resist; I took one hand off his ass and started to caress him up and down. I could feel his abdominal muscles working, which drove me wild; when I circled his tiny nipples, it was clear Levorn felt quite the same. He increased his pace, now free of my full control and driven more by lust than my hand. Even as I knew I was on track for a memorable climax, Charles apparently figured out the lesson his brother was basically shoving into my mouth: you give to receive. It was at that moment that I felt a delightful wet warmth engulf my dickhead, and started to cum uncontrollably. My mouth opened wider to cry out, and Levorn took that as a signal to bury himself as deeply as he could down my throat. Maybe it was the special way my throat contracted during orgasm, or maybe there really is magic that happens like in most porn stories, but sure enough he started to spurt before I was halfway through with my own rapture, as close to simultaneous orgasms as I've ever had before. Levorn pulled out of my mouth as he reached peak sensitivity, and I surveyed the rest of the scene. Where I had swallowed the load presented me, Charles had spat my semen all over my stomach, and now sat beside me with a pout on his face and rock-hard young dick between his legs. I whispered something in Levorn's ear; he nodded and went to the bathroom. "That shit taste nasty," Charles said. "How you swallow that?" "It feels so damned good to nut in a mouth, I'd do just about anything to make sure I can do it again," I told him. "Anything?" "Just about." "Suck me too?" Levorn came back now, smiling and carrying a tube. "Found this in her bedstand," he said, holding up the lubricant. "Better than vaseline, right?" I nodded, and took the tube. Squirting some in my palm, I warmed it up and then turned to rub it all over Charles' tool. It was tiny, but fit his young body in a natural way. It was also the hardest cock I could remember grabbing. He inhaled sharply, and moaned, "Yeah . . . " Then, I coating my middle finger, lifted my legs and slid it all the way in. I wouldn't need more than that for this job. "I could suck you, or . . . " I trailed off meaningfully. His hormones took over where his intoxicated brain fell short, and he quickly figured out what he was being offered. He stood, moved between my legs, and started poking around. "Let me," I said, grabbing it again and putting the head against my sphincter. "It will go in easier the slower you push," I said. "Once you're all in you can start going faster, a little at a time." Charles didn't exactly listen, but I was able to control his tiny pelvis with my much stronger hands easily enough, and soon I could feel his hardness within, even as the rest of him trembled. "Go crazy," I said softly into his ear. "Ima gonna cum if I move," he admitted. "You're gonna laugh." Making eye contact with his brother, I said, "Charles, lasting a long time doesn't make you a man. You've waited your whole life for this, and now you're so excited you're gonna nut in two strokes. So what? It means you're really into this. There will be other times to work on how long it takes, if you want that." "Yeah, fool," Levorn said, smacking his brother's butt. "Now fuck dat ass." Charles did. He jackhammered into me with his stiff tool. While he wasn't big enough to cause me discomfort, his pelvis pounding into my behind reminded me how much of a man he would someday be. He lasted a lot longer than he expected to, and even though he wasn't big enough to touch my special spot I found that his thrusting, his naked young chest against my body, his heavy breathing and restrained moaning, were more than exciting enough to put me over the edge. When Charles finally pushed his pleasure inside me and lifted up, we were both coated with my own load. "Shit," he said. "You really liked that." "What can I say?" I asked. "You're a stud." He clearly liked that. "Now, can one of you get me a towel or something?" As Charles scurried off to do so, Levorn said to me, "You cool for a white guy, but you gotta go now." He started pulling on his clothes. I nodded, and accepted a cloth from Charles as he returned. "Time to sober up, little man," I said to him, giving his cock a caress. "I get the impression adults are coming home." Five minutes later I was out the door, two empty balls in my pants and a slight buzz in my head. I stopped for a coffee and then headed home, suddenly a lot more appreciative of hot summer days, traveling for a living, and shirtless black boys. ------ If you enjoyed the preceding work of fiction, please consider donating to Nifty. Every dollar goes a long way.