Date: Sun, 12 Oct 2008 23:55:02 -0500 From: Manny Oaks Subject: Our Secret - 4 Usual Rules Apply. Comments appreciated. Our Secret (Part 4) I walk through the clouded glass door of the bookstore with a mixture of innocence and confidence on my face. It's almost 2am, and sofar there are twelve cars in the parking lot. I subtract one for the guy who works there, which leaves eleven in actuality, but details have their way of going in and out of being important. I haven't been here in probably two years. Sometimes I figure it's because life has gotten in the way, other times I guess it's because I feel like I oughta 'know better' by now. Still, here I am, game-face on. For a split second I feel like I'm fifteen or sixteen again and it scares me a little. Through the double doors, into the arcade. There are ten booths total, large boards of plywood fashioned into little chambers, five on each side. Each booth has a door with a slide lock, and the last booths on either side have a short wall between it and the adjacent booth, which stop just below waist level. The room is very wide. Twenty five or thirty people could stand in the space between the booths, and a bright blacklight glows from the drop-ceiling, a bare bulb hanging quietly down. I size up the room, slowly crossing to what I think of as "my spot." I settle into my best James Dean impression, casually glancing around the room at the faces. Directly across from me, there's a short italian guy smoking a cigarettte. He wears a leather jacket and stands silently with his hands clasped over one another. Whenever our eyes meet, he immediately looks away. I do the same, wondering if maybe I've seen him somewhere else. To his right is a younger guy; in fact, most of the italian man's attention is aimed at him. To look at him, I can't help but feel old, even at 31. This guy... he looks like a fucking kid! He must be 18 -- certainly someone so young-looking would be carded in a place like this -- but his face still has some of that underdeveloped, youthful glowing. He was looking at me when I came in, and every time our eyes meet, I find myself captivated. He's got a mop of dirty blonde hair and stands about 5'8". He hasn't shaved in probably three or four days and sports a grizzly looking, patchy red beard. He wears a gray hooded sweatshirt with a pair of long, yellow atheletic shorts, which only further the teenage fantasy brewing in my mind. Bright blue eyes peek out beneath the hair in his face, and they frequently look in my direction as he stands awkwardly between booths. I keep trying not to look. He looks so young, and it seems like it'd feel wrong. But at the same time, I've never been with anyone that was more than five or six years younger than me. The idea of all that innocence reaching orgasm because of me gets me so hard I can feel the teeth of my zipper against my cock. It's then I realize, as I take another casual glance in the boy's direction, that his shorts are clearly tented out in front of him, his seemingly thick cock curving skyward beneath the silken fabric. I feel my knees weaken and my cock grow even harder, the friction from the fabric of my underwear driving me nuts with each breath. Thankfully, I've got a blazer on, so nobody can see the outline of my throbbing cock or the tiny wet spot on my jeans. I casually walk across the room and enter the booth on the end, the one with the half-wall. I take out a couple of dollars and feed them into the video booth, which flickers and comes to life before me. I idly cycle through the channels, all the while listening behind me until I finally hear the door in the booth beside me creak open, then closed. I look over at the yellow shorts in the booth beside me, smooth white legs spilling out, and before I know it, I've got my cock in my hand. I gently stroke it, turning myself slightly to face the boy. He continues to stay still, but his erection doesn't lie, still bobbing beneath those shorts. The boy fidgets about with his sweatshirt pockets, quickly producing a couple of neatly folded single dollars. He reaches and gently takes the the bills in hand, smoothing them out before feeding them, one by one, into the video booth. It reminds me of myself at that age; slipping quietly into this dirty sex arena with all sorts of teenage thoughts pulsing through my mind. Five or six dollars already preset outside of my actual wallet. This time the thought of my age forces a small glob of precum from the head of my cock. It balloons out of me before dripping gracefully to the floor, seeming to stretch it's way down. When I look up, I see my little friend's got his cloth-covered erection in his hand, sliding the fabric up and down the shaft. I turn to face him completely now, slowly advancing towards him. At last, he hooks his thumbs into his waistband and lets the shorts fall to the floor. My dick slaps against my stomach at the sight of those bare smooth legs, that ivory skin stretched gently across the frame of his hips. A small, young patch of pubic hair sprouts above a thick dick with a sharp upward curve. His erection is smooth, yet rigid; that same ivory skin below his circumcision line, the pink skin of his torpedo head drawn taught. It glistens with precum and leaves my mouth watering. He turns to face me, angling to get his cock beneath the partition. I take the velvet tool in both hands, slowly spreading the precum over the head with my thumbs. I can feel him trembling through his cock. When I can't resist, I lean over and run my tongue over the head of his beautiful baby cock. I hear him inhale sharply and it elicits a quiet moan from me as I begin to take this dick into my mouth. He reaches under the partition and grabs onto it underhanded, for leverage to slowly pump his cock in and out of my mouth. It's heavy and engorged, probably seven or eight thick inches in length. He begins to moan and whimper on the other side, soundless breaths pulling in and drawing out of him with each pass of his cock into my tightened mouth. "Ooooh yessssss....." I hear him hissing. I pull off his cock and grab him by the hand. He gets the hint and steps under the partition onto my side. I'm standing face to face with him. This man, this boy. A work of art, frozen in it's youth. He looks into my eyes with something I won't realize is fear until tomorrow or the next day. I can SEE him trembling. "Why don't you take off your shirt?" I offer. It reminds me of something, that phrase. Something about the way I said it, I think. The boy grasps the shirt at the base and lifts it over his head, exposing his tight, fragile torso. I can make out most of his ribs amongst the small muscles formed across his body. He may well have been on this earth for eighteen years, but it almost seems his body has two years' worth of catching up to do. He still has the shirt over his head, and is now pulling his arms out of it, but I take one look at that beautiful young boy standing completely naked before me and finally give in. I rush into him, pressing him up against the video screen as our lips lock in a passionate, fiery frenzy. His cock is right beside mine, pressed between our bodies. I grind into him and begin to lick and kiss his neck, running my hands over his smooth, trembling porcelain chest. His eyes are fearful, and I can tell it's because he's afraid of what I might try to do, but behind that I can see he's drawn to me, to this place, for that very reason. When I run my lips gently over the edge of his ear, he freezes, the sharp inhale of oxygen again. Then I reach between us and stroke his cock, now covered in ribbons of precum and he moans aloud. He realizes this immediately and tenses up, but I touch my hand to his cheek and reassure him. "It's okay," i say finally. "Nothing unusual going on in here, you know." He laughs nervously and hesitates to keep looking me in the eye. "I've never been in here, before," he quietly admits. A shudder of pleasure passes through his body; I'm still stroking his dick. "It's okay," I say. "You're doing great!" I say with a laugh. That gets him smiling a little. It kind of makes me feel like scum, but I'm way past the point of stopping now. I stroke his face gently with both hands, and move them slowly to his shoulders. Before I even realizing I'm gently pressing down, and the boy quickly kneels and takes my cock into his mouth. I throw my head back, my jaw slacken. This may be his first time in a bookstore, but there's no way my cock is the first he's sucked. He alternates between sucking slowly and quickly, sucking in his cheeks, and flicking his tongue against my frenum. Suddenly, the boy turns into a machine, quickly slipping up and down my cock with vigor, his hands clasped into my ass for dear life. He's fucking his face on my cock, and it's driving me fucking nuts! I can feel my cock grow harder with each beat of my pulse. I let him continue for a few seconds, my hands roaming down his back, kneading his skin as he overloads my senses. His right ring finger inches slowly towards my asshole when I feel the urge beginning to take over me; my dick is growing harder and I can sense my orgasm is nearing. I quickly pull out of the boys mouth, standing him up by his shoulders and shoving my tongue into his mouth. My cock is twitching and throbbing between us, and i'm involuntarily humping towards him. The video machine clicks off, and we're left alone in the dark for a moment, caught up in the fervor of lust. The boy turns to the screen, reaching into his pocket once again. I come up behind him, arms stroking and caressing his chest, and bury my face in his damp, sweaty hair. I open my eyes in time to see he's fed a ten dollar bill into the video machine. "That was a ten!" I whispered. "I know," he says. He begins to grind his ass back against my cock, and I realize his intentions. I ask him if he's ever been fucked before. "Yeah," he moans. My cock is still slick from the blowjob he'd given me, and I can feel his fingers, wet with saliva, as he rubs them in and around his hole. I wrap my arms around his torso, my hands on his chest, and slowly begin to work my way into the trembling boy's hole. "Oh!" he whispers when the head pops through, and he begins to tremble in earnest. I kiss his neck, assuring him that he's doing great. As I slowly slide in, he looks back at me frequently, as if almost for reassurance that I won't hurt him. He lets out a long, "Ooooooh," when my dick bottoms out in his hole, and I can feel him squeezing and releasing on my cock. He slowly begins to rock forward and back, subtly sending me into a frenzy with pleasure. I gently bite his neck, moaning all the while as the boy echoes my pleasure. He's slowly fucking back and forth on my dick, gradually picking up the pace. I look down at that smooth, flawless little ass with my cock sliding in and out. I lose myself for a moment and begin to pummel the kid's ass with my raging cock. "Oooh!" The boy moans, "Oooh, oooh!" I come to my senses and freeze with my cock balls deep. "Oooh, ooooh," he moans again, panting, "Oooh, ooooh yeah... yeah!.. don't stop! Why'd you stop!?" I laugh and begin to fuck the kid in earnest now, one hand wrapped across his chest, and the other stroking his cock. The boy moans with each of my thrusts, and when he's not lost in his own ecstasy, he eagerly meets each upstroke. "Oh yes, yes, yes sir!" he pants. It's when he says 'sir' that I realize I'm going to lose it. "Ugh!" I moan, my thrusts becoming staggered and aimless. "I'm gonna cum, kid!" I whisper. He moans and throws his head back on my shoulder. He's stroking his cock with his right hand, and reaching back to pull my ass firmly against him with his left. I begin to massage his pectoral muscles as my orgasm begins, "Oooooh FUCK, Oh fuck, kid, FUCK!" I shout as my cock begins to throb, firing my hot cum into his ass. "Aaah, aaah!" the kid begins to moan suddenly, and louder than the video still playing in the background. I"m slowly working my cock back and forth in his hole, and I can feel his anus contracting on my cock as his body gets ready for his orgrasm.. "OOH YEAAAH, I'm... I'm CUMMING!" he shouts. Both of his hands shoot back, grabbing my hips and pulling me forward, my slowly softening cock jamming further into his ass. The boy throws his head back, the dirty blonde locks dripping and curled with sweat. I watch as his cock begins to fire thick globs at the video screen with no hands touching it. "OOOOH YEAH," he gives a breathy moan His back is stiffly arched, his head resting in the crook of my neck. I can feel his muscles contract and release with each pulse of his orgasm. I look up and see five dripping shots of thick, hot cum dripping down the video screen. He collapses back against me as the throes subside, my arm still hooked across his chest. His heart is beating rapidly inside and his hands are still gripping my ass when he opens his eyes. "Oh, man!" he whispers, still breathing heavily, and gives a small laugh. He leans forward against the cum-stained video screen and I pull my ever-softening cock out of his ass. It glistens with the wet, sticky cum I left inside. The boy produces a couple of paper towels from the pockets of his hoodie, one of which he hands to me while cleaning himself with the other. I watch him as he dresses. He's returned to being the nervous, shy kid I saw standing between booths earlier. He glances up at me briefly as he pulls up his boxers, then the athletic shorts. He tries to show me a kind face, but all sorts of fear and apprehension dance behind his eyes; it's as if he's afraid of me. "Thanks," he says quietly, and for a brief second it almost seems as if it's a genuine regard, and not just some courtesy. He turns to exit, but I place a hand on his shoulder. "Wait a sec," I say. "Are you... Well, are you okay?" "Huh?" he utters. "Oh.. oh yeah, I'm fine, I just really gotta go." He looks down at the floor. His eyes flick up at me so quickly it's a wonder he even tries. "Oh, okay," I say. "Well I guess I'll see you around." "Yeah, maybe. Thank you, sir," he mumbles. Then he turns and exits the booth. Before the door closes, I can see the short italian man glaring at me from across the wall, his erection flanked by dampened dark blue khakis. I smile at him on my way out of the booths. He merely continues to glare at me, but there's something familiar in that glare. It reminds of Mr. Keane, my high school art teacher, but I can't pinpoint why, as they look nothing alike, really. It doesn't really dawn on me until I'm in the car, on the way home; Not just our secret, Mr. Keane's and mine, but a few others.... (stay tuned!!)