Business is booming, sex plentiful!
That particular evening saw twenty-one boys strong, all socializing, playing games, or swimming. Most of them were clad in underwear, some were naked coming from the greenhouse to get a beer or smoke a joint; months of losing inhibitions only inspired others to leave their modesty at the pool and mingle in the rec-room. From day one, Ron was naked most of the time, the patriarch of his home. He had had every boy at least once, Adam the exception. Ron saw something in the lad in his eyes scanning the naked bodies around him trying to be discreet, frequently pulling on his cock for maximum ‘Show & Tell’ presentation, lest it shrivel up a half-inch on an already well proportioned display. Ron watched the organ from a distance dilate several times as the boy leisurely chatted with his new-found friends.
John walked by, en route to the bathroom. Ron followed, closing the door behind him and taking a position beside the boy, who was too startled to relieve himself. Not one to mince words, Ron asked, “You and Adam play around?”
John, trying not to be pee-shy, but losing the battle, replied, “Nope. Never even seen him naked until today.” Ron reached and took John's cock in hand. He raised the teen’s chin to look him in the eye, and said, “He’s game for it now, John. Take my word for it. He might not know it yet… he needs to be shown.”
“How do I show him, then?” he asked, not sure he wanted to come onto his buddy.
“In time, you will see the boys slowly egressing to the greenhouse pool. Other than a few patio lanterns, it will be quite dim, the main lights shut off by timer. All night, boys will be going back and forth for a little action. Unless Adam is stupid, he will figure out what’s going on. That’s when you move on him.”
“I, I couldn’t, Ron! How do I know if he…”
Ron didn’t allow the boy to finish his words. “Judging by the way he has been consuming ecstasy and pot, he’s more than ready already. I want you and Adam to join Phil, Peter and Kyle, in my bed later tonight. — Don’t disappoint me!” Ron left the bathroom abruptly, leaving John to finally pee and in a state of quandary. Ron might not have given him an ultimatum in words, but his tone spoke volumes. The message clear, if John wanted to stick around, he had best convince his best friend to have sex with not only him, but other guys!
John needn't have fretted for over an hour, trying to avoid direct contact with Adam, when he caught a glimpse of the teen and Steve masturbating each other at the bar, then the two departing toward the greenhouse.
He has been chatting with Peter, the boy Ron had insinuated would be an orgy participant later that night. John took a liking to him, at twelve years old, the youngest of all the boys present. He wore only a pair of white briefs that John’s hand slithered into, finding the courage to stroke somehow. His fingers brushed a sparse covering of velvet before he was handling the boy’s smallish erection. Peter was obviously shy, in a way that only excited John more. His cock hard as hard could be, he placed the boy’s hand around his growth. That said and done, John had no idea how to proceed from there and opted to chat about video games.
Time healed all inhibitions. John became brave. “Wanna go for a swim?” he asked Peter.
The pool was empty except for three boys playing Frisbee, yet half the crowd from the rec-room seemed to have gone for a swim. Their underwear scattered the ground. The thick green foliage of exotic plants and pretty flowers was a maze of pathways that hid their activity, as he discovered when he took little Peter into the forest-like garden and saw boys scattered about in semi-seclusion, engaged in every conceivable sexual act. Ronny was standing in front of two boys on their knees taking turns sucking the man’s cock and licking his balls. He waved at John and Peter as casually as if they were walking past on the street.
Next, John saw his life-time buddy off in a cul-de-sac, lying in a sixty-nine with the older boy he left the rec-room with. All those years as best friends, they never so much as touched each other. That is where he opted to take Peter and fall to his knees. Adam sensed the intrusion and pulled off the thick cock he was blowing, to look up and see John on his knees. They made eye contact, winked at each other, and carried on.
* * *
Later that night, it was Robin, Mark, John, Peter, and Adam in Ron’s bed. Robin and Mark, his first conquest of boys, became his favorite bedmates. They were into anything Ron wanted, including fisting him while getting a blowjob. Robin and Mark became instrumental in breaking the ice and seducing newbies for Ron’s later enjoyment. Robin was blunt, to the point, telling boys that if they wanted to stick around for booze and drugs, they had best be willing to show gratitude and have sex with their host or leave. Many boys opted out and ran; however, a week later, they were back willing to do anything for the drugs.
And heavily drugged they were that night, including Viagra that Ron had began to use, later sharing that for his weekend boy-orgies. Not a cock was left idle, an ass left void, or bursting a nut and carrying on. Their positions as one sexual unit were ever fluid: tops became bottoms, bottoms became tops, where a cock slipped from a mouth or ass, another filled the void rolling around in bliss for hours: bodies glistened in lube and sweat; the bed was soaked in it. Ron had found the right combination of drugs, ecstasy and Viagra that he called “viactasy!”
Around noon, the boys started to wake in very provocative positions, as the intoxicating odor of bacon wafted into the bedroom, Ronny was fixing breakfast. Peter and Adam played the game of denial, trying to cover their nudity, claiming not to know what they did that night until Robin and Mark reminded them.
Mark said with conviction, “You know exactly what we all did last night… don’t try and bullshit!”
Robin followed, “Get over it… ya’ all enjoyed it. No big deal, right?
The two boys were scanning the room for their clothes, Robin laughed, “Breakfast attire in the greenhouse is nude… dah! like, we’ve already seen each other… even intimately!” he laughed, a hand waving his cock around slapping his thighs.
John piped in, “It was a fucking hot time, dudes. My first time in an orgy with guys… who would have thought?”
* * *
As Ron opened more locations in malls close to junior and senior high schools, always managing them himself while training a manager, he met more boys. He couldn't get enough. He was bedding a newbie almost every day; sex for drugs. His house was crawling with boys, weekends saw as many as fifty available boy-toys, orgies in the dozen participants, yet he truly enjoyed fresh-meat. That first time, scared shitless boys on their knees with Ron’s cock at their lips, and/or lubed, forcing himself into them. Legs over his shoulders watching their faces and jerking them off. Most lost erections, Ron didn't care. With most, he’d already sucked them dry, regardless; manhandling their genitals, pulling, squeezing, fucking them merciless turned him on, the louder they screamed, the more excited he became.
* * *
Then he met Christopher, thirteen, at arcade number three, established in a ritzy neighborhood. Chris came in every day and played one particular game where he scored the highest level of points over any other player. His golden hair was shoulder-length, constantly brushing his bangs from his eyes and sweeping the mass behind his ears. Large sky-blue eyes, small nose, and a wide mouth with cherry red lips. A cock-sucking mouth... a man pleaser, Ron thought. The boy mostly wore “wife-beater” t-shirts, a whisker-like growth of dark-blond armpit hair. The cut-off t-shirts rode half-way between his chest and navel, his well-tanned torso and legs beneath his short nylon white shorts that exposed a rather large encased mound, or sometimes he wore loose sweatpants that his goods swayed within when he walked.
Ron tried to befriend the Adonis-boy, his cock responding every time the kid walked into the store, smiled and bought tokens from him, and proceeded to his favorite machine. Ron lingered around the boy complimenting his battle of aliens and free-plays.
“I’m going to go broke with guys like you, Chris!” he said, startling the boy, who was so absorbed in the game he didn’t know Ron was standing behind him. Ron put a hand on the kid’s shoulder; his thumb and forefinger grazed the the soft skin just above the neckline of Chris’ t-shirt under the long silky hair the color of straw. Ron became hard at the thought of the boy between his legs, that beautiful hair draped over his crotch and tickling his balls, while his full mouth and large lips worshiped his cock. Even while his fingers wrapped tight around the game-machine joystick, Ron had pictured the kid going down on him while he pulled the tight shorts down and fucked him over the gaming device.
Chris quickly removed the man’s hand from his person. He was not used to intimacy shown by a man… or anyone else for that matter. Chris didn’t have a dad… well, not one that he knew, and the many men his mother fell in love with never stuck around long enough or cared to get to know him or his little brother Frankie, named after Frank Sinatra, mom’s idol. Frankie was six years old, different absent father, but the two were close. Chris loved Frankie, and Frankie thought the world of Chris.
Not long ago, some older boys in Frankie’s school took his precious snow-globe that he took everywhere he went, his pocket bulged of it most times when he wasn’t handling it watching the snow fall over the tiny village. The kid spent hours watching the snowstorm cover the village, shaking it again and again for a repeated moment of pleasure. He was devastated when they smashed it on the sidewalk. He tried to rescue the village, but a boy stomped on that before he could grasp it. He cried, on all fours looking at the shattered glass and village; snowflakes pooled in the small puddle of water. Frankie picked up every shard of glass — cutting his fingers, he collected the destroyed village, and even tried to collect the snow.
When Chris got home from school, he found his little brother in tears, hands bleeding, refusing to release what was left of his prized possession. Chris took him to the bathroom and forced Frankie to drop the ruins in the garbage can, and then washed his hands of blood and bandaged his wounds.
“I promise… tomorrow I’ll buy you a new one… even better than that one.” He hugged the tiny boy with all his might, shedding tears of his own. Chris had $23.42 and hoped it would be enough. But where to buy one long after Christmas became days of fruitlessly scouring stores across the city. That’s how he ended up at the Galaxy Paradise Arcade. He knew he was being selfish, wasting a dollar to play “Aliens Rule”; however, he excelled at the game, never having to drop another token in the machine.
“Ah, you're the legendary ‘Sno-Globe’ that the other kids are envious of!” Ron praised — Sno-Globe being Chris’ chosen alias name. “Guys wanna meet you around here… you’re a celebrity!” Ron said, taking a chance draping an arm over the boy’s shoulder.
“Yeah, right.” Chris ducked from under Ron’s arm.
Ron wasn’t used to boys shunning him, Chris would be a challenge to get into his pants… and he loved the challenge. “I’m serious! Guys are amazed at your score… you rule!
“Really?” he asked, amused.
“Yup… you bet!” Ron encouraged. “I’m curious, why the alias ‘sno-globe?’”
Chris reluctantly told Ron about Frankie’s misadventure and how he was searching for a replacement.
“Wow, that sucks… poor kid,” Ron said with empathy. Then a bell went off in his head. “My grandmother used to collect them… I kinda inherited around thirty of them, I have them somewhere in a box… ya know, I didn’t want them, but they were hers and I couldn’t get rid of them. Hell, there’s probably one that resembles, or is identical to, your little brother’s!”
Finally, after weeks hitting on the Adonis-boy, a bloody snow-globe convinced him to peddle over to Ron’s place the next day, Friday, after school, his little brother Frankie riding the handlebars for the five-mile trek.
Different fathers, the boys looked identical; their mom’s genes certainly dominated her eggs. Ron shook off the thought of the younger Adonis between his thighs sucking his cock… after all, he did have standards… didn’t he?
There were a dozen boys over already, most skipped classes getting there after lunch, smoking up, and drinking beer. Ron was horny, he could have any one of them, or for that matter, all the boys in his home. Somehow he was going to have Chris… or both brothers! That thought caused him to bone up when he opened the door and welcomed them in. His white satin robe barely covered his nudity and excited state.
If the boys weren’t impressed with the games-room, their eyes lit up at the swimming pool. Four naked boys were playing water-polo that Ron was certain in the very least that Chris noticed, if not little Frankie, who was jumping up and down asking his brother if he could, too, go swimming.
Ron was expecting Chris’ reply, “We didn’t bring our suits, Frankie.”
Out of the mouths of babes, Frankie said, “Dos boy don’t have suits needer!”
Just then, Jacob and Patrick entered the greenhouse, shucked their underwear and dove in the pool.
Ron said, “Around here we swim naked, Chris,” pointing at the boys in the pool, “As you can see, it’s no big deal.” He then looked at Frankie, ruffling his hair, “Take off your clothes and have fun in the pool. I’ll even join you for a dip.” Dropping his robe to the floor, he watched Frankie tear off his clothes, the boy’s eyes locked on Ron’s genitals. Chris, red-faced, looked anywhere else than the nudity around him.
“Come on, Chrissy, come for a swim with me?” Frankie asked, hauling down his Spiderman undies.
“Maybe later, Frankie.”
Frankie’s uncut boy-dick was bullet-shaped, no longer or wider than Ron’s pinky finger. Ron was going to sample that hors-d’oeuvre-like weenie… he wondered if it would get erect in his mouth. He dove in the pool before his cock got any more noticeably inflated than it was.
Chris stood poolside looking embarrassed. Another lad, Devon, 14, walked in fully dressed. He had just arrived at Ron’s place, smoked a joint, and was ready for a swim. He chatted to Chris as he nonchalantly stripped. Not to Ron’s surprise, Chris slowly began to shed his clothes. Peer pressure — the most powerful influence on a teenager. Not a word needed saying, the example silently set by others and adhered to. Ron knew it and used it often.
Chris was nervous, biding his time. No boy takes the time he did to fold his shirt and jeans, place them on a chair, remove his socks, and neatly fold them atop his attire. The only garment he didn’t fuss with was his boxer-briefs, that he left at his ankles, stumbling in them, still on his feet in his haste to jump into the safety of the pool.
Ron caught only a glimpse, thanks to the boy stumbling taking his hands away to balance himself. His cock was cut, that was a given, and hung around four inches, thick as a roll of quarters. His balls were fluid, hanging to the tip of his cock, flared orbs the size of cherries. Ron would have thought the boy void of pubes; however, just as he jumped in the pool, Ron got a glimpse of the small blond bush almost camouflaged by his milky-white groin.
The teens were engrossed in a game of water-polo, their laughter music to Ron’s ears, their splashing about causing tiny rapids enough to cause Frankie’s dog-paddle rhythm to flounder. Ron took hold of the boy and taught him how to swim with his arms and legs, all the while, a hand supporting his chest and the other on his crotch copping a feel of the immature genitals at leisure, as he kept the boy on the surface encouraging him to swim, let him go and repeat the lesson.
Ron was horny as hell climbing out of the pool, barely, if at all, noticed by the boys. He led Frankie by the hand into the “jungle” as boys referred to it. He sat Frankie on a bench, took the small hand, and wrapped it around his cock with his over the top masturbating a short while.
“Open your mouth, Frankie,” he ordered, cock against the boy’s ruby lips, a hand at the back of the kid’s head. “It’s okay, buddy, boys do these things for men all the time… if ya had a dad, you’d know!” Ron was amazed at how gullible little boys were. It certainly wasn’t the best blowjob, Frankie was mostly gasping for air, but he was soon cumming in the kid’s mouth holding his head firmly in place, until the last shot followed by excess seminal fluid he squeezed from his cock.
Ron got on his knees in front of the seated boy. He tasted like chlorine, penis and testes the size of marbles were tight to his groin as he licked and sucked them. Frankie giggled, saying it tickled, but Ron’s passion increased when he detected the penis expanding in his mouth. Frankie continued to giggle — Ron was well aware that the kid was too young to comprehend sex, or enjoy it. Strangely, Ron’s reward was a mouth full of piss, well advised beforehand, that he drank down without spilling a drop. Frankie wasn’t impressed, wondering why anyone would want to drink pee. Ron hadn’t planned on it either; it was a whimsical, spontaneous decision the second Frankie said he had to pee and he told him to let loose. It blasted the back of his throat, struggling to swallow the bitter/sweet hot fluid.
Completely satisfied with himself, not an ounce of shame or regret, Ron led the boy back to the pool. He had experienced something new, profound as it was. However, he doubted he’d ever venture there again. The small boy would be impossible to fuck, Ron couldn’t even get his middle finger inside the tight confines, even after he tongued the pink-bubblegum-looking hole and thought it relaxed enough. He gave up the effort to tickle the kid’s prostate. Did kids that young even have one?
Ron found a mask and snorkel to amuse Frankie. He set his sights on the boy’s older brother. If Chris noticed his little brother’s and Ron’s absence, he never questioned it. Ron swam up to him and said, “Ya want to look through the box of snow-globes now?”
“You bet, Ronny!”
Chris didn't want to get Frankie’s hopes up, and never told him the purpose of going to Ron’s house. Ron got a good look at the boy’s nudity, handing him a towel that he waist-wrapped as Ron donned his robe. The teen seemed a little more comfortable after spending an hour naked with the other boys.
Ron had found the boxes of snow-globes in his garage. There were more of them than he thought, over 50, all wrapped in newspaper. Ron hauled them to his bedroom, unwrapped each, and polished them, placing them atop his long dresser, wondering why he never displayed them before. They were beautiful ornaments, and very old and hand-crafted.
It took Chris only a second walking into the bedroom before he bolted, grasping one, and jumping up and down, screaming, “THIS IS IT, THE SAME FUCKING ONE FRANKIE HAD!” Tears rolled down his face as he hugged it close to his chest. “Thank you so much, Ron!”
Ron was happy that he had the exact make and model, thinking perhaps Chris or Frankie would pick out a substitute, although he was going to give the boy the whole collection anyway.
Chris hugged Ron, his face buried in Ron’s chest, his tears soaking the small mat of hair between his pecs. Ron hugged him back, almost in tears at how the boy loved his little brother so much.
Chris began to bawl still clinging to Ron. “I wanted to beat those boys so bad… I, I, wished I had a gun to kill them,” he sobbed. “Frankie cherished that stupid thing… took it everywhere and showed it off to anyone who paid any attention to him.”
Ron hugged the boy tighter. “Frankie is a lucky boy to have a brother like you, Chris!” Ron’s robe fell open, he felt the warmth of the of the boy’s belly mashed against his hardening cock.
Chris looked up at Ron and asked, “How can I ever thank you? I’ll do anything!”
Ron sat Chris on the bed, let his robe fall to the ground and pointed his cock at those fabulous wide lips meant for sucking cock. Chris was perplexed. He knew exactly what was expected of him, although he had never ever thought about guys in that way. He peeked at urinals and in the showers; jerked off with three other guys once, but he was not a queer!
Ronny’s cock was pressing his lips. He thought of the snow-globe still in his hand and the joy Frankie was about to receive. Was it worth it? Suck the man’s cock to ensure Frankie’s stupid juvenile fetish for a useless toy? He closed his eyes tight, opened his mouth and took the man, allowing him to push his head deeper over the the meaty shaft. Chris really didn’t have to do much except keep his mouth tight around the thick cock fucking his mouth. He not only knew exactly what the strange taste was, he expected it!
Ron gave him a blowjob afterward, his first. He felt a little less intimidated and guilty. At first, he let the man have his way, then it began to feel nice. He admitted that he loved his bum-hole licked; Ron spent a good ten-minutes making the boy squirm and grunt in pleasure. Chris came a sweet hefty load that Ron savored.
Chris departed the bedroom with a box full of snow-globes that he set by the front door, then went downstairs to dress and collect his brother. Ron saw them off, asking if Chris would be coming back; he replied, “Fuck you!” Settling his brother on the handlebars with the box on his lap held tight, they pedaled off down the road. Ron laughed, he had seen it many times… Chris would be back!
The end!
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