Date: Tue, 13 Sep 2005 03:39:27 +0100 From: Joey Tailor Subject: Perfect One Chapter One - The Arrival The internet cafe is all hustle bustle. People come and go all day and night. Every kind you can imagine and then some. Late night is the quietest by far. Feeding four very large business / family class hotels, you can usually find every race color and creed during any given 24 hour period. More than 50 terminals scattered in a semi-private pattern, units as basic as a win-terms all the way up to cutting edge technology. Dial up or High-speed, Lap-tops, PS's and servers. You get what you pay for here. A dozen or so even have web cams hooked up for those office net-meetings. The kind big city executives prefer. Ten year old Kamal Zorin and family arrive at their hotel late in the night. The well to do family members are on their semi-annual vacation. Already 1:30 in the morning, local time, the family finish the mandatory Hotel check- in process. Kamal and his little sister watch a perky spirited bellhop loads their Sampsonite luggage on a shiny gold cart, trimmed with red carpet. Kamal, about to protest as the young man starts pushing the baggage away, stops himself. It has been a long journey for the sweet little boy. Two plane rides followed by a long wait for the hotel shuttle. `Do I realy care?' He questions the mans action The brother and sister follow close behind their parents. Kamal takes notice of his 8 year old sisters' summer dress, torn in the back. Giving off a smooth chuckle under his breath, the boy wonders how long it had been like that. Nonie hears he brother and his annoying snicker. Her head turns, giving Kamal her infamous `I know your up to something' look. The type of look all sister, large or small come to master. Passing over the exotic blue marble floor the tap of shoes echo the expanse of the large modernistic forye. All of them in awe of the many magnificent antique statues and equally eye catching paintings lining the walls. The weary group feel their tired legs ache striding the fast pase of the Belhop, guiding them to the elevators. The elevator ride gives ample time for a quick conversation. Mr. and Dr. Zorin speak in a Lebanese version of Arabic. Kamal studies the workmanship of the control panel. So many buttons, all with shiny ivory caps and rich ebony numbers embedded. An inner voice calls to him, `push them, push them all.' Smiling to himself the smooth skinned boy pictures the panel lit like a white Christmas tree. His dapper smile fills the small space. 36 floors, `B' and `L' he knows them, Basement and Lobby. What is this `E' for the voice becons him to find out. "Hey mister, what's the `E' for?" He asks the bellhop, finger pointing to the top row of buttons. His little sister's attention draws to the panel, she cannot come up with an answer, nor can she find a reason to care. "E, E for Executive floor young sir." The Bellhop responds in a very professional tone. Nonie looks the man up and down, her nose turning upward. `What a funny red outfit.' She thinks. The man stands staring at the buttons as if he were waiting for one to pop. His round red hat perched firmly on top of his head. "No way, I am not." Nonie half shouts, catching her tone to late. Both of her parents glare at her for the sudden unwelcome outburst. "You will do as your told young lady, and like it." Mother scolds the young girl, her patience running thin. Dr. Zorin and her husband had chosen to bear children later in life than most Lebanese families, allowing them to stabilize their career's first. Mrs. Zorin is a respected Doctor to the more affluent families in their capital city Beirut. Mr. Zorin gained favor with the Americans through his import export company, dealing mainly in spices and cheaply made shoddy goods. Together they also own, but do not manage a telephone call center. Many may think they are calling a local bank to get their balance or to arrange a utility payment. That call might well be routed international to one of their more than 300 employees. "What is it, what did I miss?" Kamal asks with his I got to know what is happening voice. Trying so hard to gain a clue as to what transpired, his eyes dart from sister to mother. The elevator eases to a stop. DING, the silver doors swish open. Fresh air replaces the stuffy confines of the 6 foot square box. Waiting for the guests to depart, the bellhop holds the doors open with a simple button push. Always the gentlemen, his job relies on it. "We have to share a room, for the next WEEK." Nonie sticks her nose as far forward as she can manage without losing balance. Kamal stops in his tracks, looks up to his mother. It's a simple child like reaction. The lite skin boy closes his eyes, turns his head careful not to show his back to Mother and carries on down the hall. He knows from many similar past experiences there is no use arguing, not with his mother. Her rules are as good as commandments, struck in stone. His father on the other hand, well Kamal and his sister know how to get around him. He would just have to wait and chose his battle. Kamal keeps pace with the bellhop, side by side with the cart full of his families luggage. His parents eagerly scanning the Hotel doors looking for 1410 and 1412. The bellhop already pointed them in the right direction, but it is still a good walk from the elevator shaft. The boy absently traces his thin fingers along the bumpy wallpaper. He admires the square pattern on the soft blue carpet undrr his tan canvas shoes. To him it almost feels similar to walking on sponge. `Much softer than the ceramic tiled floors at home' the soft natured boy thinks to himself. The hotel is in the final throws of winding down for the night. Most of the staff finished for the night. The hall lights already dimmed to half brightness. Kamals' parents stop outside a white painted, wide wooden door. "1410, this is us." Mother speaks in a soft melodic voice, gently looking to her husband. Her eyes showing her long day has taken its final toll. "I'll take care of all this." Mr. Zorin speaks in a take charge tone. "You get yourself freshened up dear." Organizing things is his specialty. Bags sorted and orders given, both to the children and the hired help. He slides four of the larger suitcases into 1410, More tells rather than asks the Bellhop to take the rest into the children's room. Mr. Zorin makes a point of paying a handsome gratuity to the Bellhop for his time. Looking over to his Children he declares in a stern but loving tone, "Please, do not be bothering your mother until she calls for you in the morning." Father raises his finger to stop Nonie from her pending rebuttal. "Just go to sleep, now." The Bellhop opens suite 1412 and places their remaining bags inside the doorway. Nonie runs in, calling dibs on her choice of bed. With a flash she darts off to the washroom. This will be her territory for the week. Kamal saunters gracefully into the room taking his place on the unclaimed bed. To his great surprise, he has a great view of the TV set, also sporting a video game system already hooked-up. `All right' the happy little boy mouths. "My names Pete, if you need anything just let me know." The Bellhop introduces himself. Confidant to speak at ease, the teenage servant knows not to dare speak openly to a hotel guest. At least he would not be so flagrant in earshot of other guests of staff. Putting one of the bags beside the boy's bed, Pete lightly taps the boy on his bottom. His hand resting a second longer normality would allow. Kamal suddenly feels very alone. The child still hold a previous sexual encounter deep in memory. It was little over a year ago, just before his 9th birthday. The boy was attending a party, to celebrate `The South Carolina Gas and Electric Company' and his parents Telephone Call Center's first anniversary together. Kamal roamed the large wooded grounds in search of some small adventure. The type all young boys like, a tall tree to climb or perhaps a mystery to solve. He so enjoys reading mystery books and dreaming the fictive dream. Instead he came across an officious looking middle aged American man, with a strange gleam in his eye. A gleam that Kamal had not seen before, but sensed was not the good type. Trying to hide in the thick bush Kamal stepped back when he saw the man. In hope of not being spotted he stood very still. The American already spotted Kamal. He had been watching the boy, with his light mocha brown skin, for some time. To his great pleasure he saw Kamal veer away from the crowds and go his own way. He thought how cute the young boy looked, dressed in his thin khaki shorts, polo shirt and sandals. He admired the boys thick black hair from afar, dreaming of those red puffy lips wrapped around his 7 inch cock. He had to have him, and soon. Within hours his plane would be leaving for the Americas, any chance gone. Placing his black suit jacket on the back of his wire framed lawn chair, the 5'8" man, walked off in pursuit of the little boy. Lust in his eye he followed the boy at a distance. Ensuring no one would spot his calculated perv- full meandering. He caught site of Kamals deep brown eyes as the boy looked him deeply head- on. Seeing the child back into the thick bush, this was the calculated chance he hoped to gain. He stepped faster, forcing Kamal back into the deep covering of the green leafy bush. Feeling safe from the sight of any passers by, the thin almost wimpy man made his move. "Don't say anything and you will be safe." He gripped Kamal by his shoulders. "Do you understand me?" He questioned the boy in whispers. Kamal nodded his head in agreement. In reality he had no idea what the man meant. Fear made him nod his head. Fear of not agreeing with whatever it was the man was saying. His shoulders where no longer held, fear glued him in position, the same fear that made him nod his head. The boys' eyes followed the mans hands. Kamal did not quite understand why the stranger was taking out his adult sized pee-pee. Did he need to go? Why did the man force him into this place if all he needed was a pee? His mind questioned and re-questioned. The lascivious American man pulled out his 7 inch rock hard cock and stroked it in front of the small 8 year old innocent boy. "Suck it, come on, suck my dick kid." He grabbed the back of Kamals head forcing him down. Stopping his shove, Kamal crouched with a crotch eye view of the man. His small red lips pried apart by an engorged cock head pushing its way into Kamals warm moist mouth. The adult hips quickly started their gyration as the yank face fucked the stunned boy. Kamal started to suck, first in fear. The mans shaft was running in and out of his mouth, saliva leaking from the tightly stretched corners. The stiff penis never quite reached far enough to make the cute child gag. After a dozen or so strokes the boy took hold at the base of the mans cock. Supporting his balance, he continued to suck and guide the man cock in and out of his suckling mouth. Pre-cum started to ooze from the moaning mans slit. Kamal was getting his first taste, a taste he found sugary sweet. The boys inner inhibitions subsided, he starting enjoying the molestation. His short pink tongue licked at the mans juices, roaming the blood engorged cock head. Wisps of breath shot from the kid's nose. His heart beat doubled. The grossly lewd man was in sexual bliss, his ass cheeks clenching as he humped his turid cock in to the boy's mouth again and again. The disgusting mans preference is an unwilling child partner. Rape is his game of choice. The foreigner was close to shooting his hot load. Sucking on the man's cock like a pro, the little kid went wild. "Here it comes kid, you better swallow fast and don't miss any." His grunted words warned the boy of the expectant flood of cum. Kamal had no idea what the guy meant by his statement. This was all so new to him. He did know he was happy in this new place. His body and mind slapped with new feelings and senses. Kamal felt the mans pee-pee swell and pulse in his mouth. A spray of something hit the back of his throat, then another blast. `This must be what he meant about swallowing.' He thought between the sharp green flashes of light shooting across his closed eyelids. Swallow he did, how he savored the new taste. The 8 year old found the semen similar to the earlier sweet flavor from the mans pee-pee, perhaps a little more tart. Strangely like pool water, but thicker his young mind could not place all the tastes and textures. "You'll make a great little fag boy." The credulous man scoffed at the boy. "Shame I don't have time to fill your tight little ass." After putting away his deflated penis, the man straightened his tie, slapped the boy on the head and told him to keep quiet. A look of disgust smeared with contempt thrown at the youngster. With that, the ass of a man disappeared deeper into the bush leaving Kamal alone. Alone and wanting to experience more or these new emotions and taste that fell on him this calm sunny Beirut day. Chapter Two - Bad Fruit Credits roll, Kamal catches the last twenty or so minutes of Jurassic Park on the hotels movie channel. With aid of the wireless remote, the bored boy shuts off the TV. With the light of the television set fading away, he can barely make out the few furnishings strategically placed throughout his hotel room. The timid boy spies the large wardrobe with its reflective mirror looking back at him. He hates mirrors at night. By day he adores them, spending many hours admiring himself in different outfits and poses. An arm-chair, sporting a floral cloth pattern, sits at an angle in the far corner of the room. His clothes delicately draped over the side so as not to be wrinkled. Having slept many hours on the two plane rides, Kamal is not one bit tired. Laying back on his queen-size bed the crisp white cotton sheets lightly scratch at his skin. His eyes close, taking a deep breath, this is one of those nice feelings he so enjoys. Kamal fades into a personal zone, one of comfort. A few memories pass in his mind and fade as quick as they arrived. Like most time the boy finds this tract of thought, he drifts back, back to when he met the American. His abuser. The soft fabric of his boxers lift as an erection forms. His boyhood comes to life, he has no control over it. Vivid memories flash in his minds eye. He can almost taste the mans cock again, the juices that came from the mans delicious penis. Subconsciously the freshly aroused child licks his lips. Wanting for the lost moment to return, but fearful of the man that brought it. With slender fingers his hand finds its way to the wasteband of his blue silk under shorts. The feel of genuin worm silk on his 3 inch hard tool is what makes him happy to be a boy. Nonie coughs and turns coming to rest on her back. Gentle snores roll from her mouth. Nothing loud, just obnoxious enough to annoy her brother. More than enough noise he knows to keep him from falling asleep. Penis deflating, the mood is gone. Kamal looks about the for something to do. Something to break the gloom. A welcome pack is keenly displayed on his night side table. Inside he finds many useless offerings. Not much for a boy to be found in there. Having inherited his fathers obsession for organization, Kamal lays the contents of the bag on his bed. Sat crossed legged, Indian style he looks them over. Three bags of coffee, tea, sugar and whitener. A free medium pizza offer, from a local delivery place. `Now that could come in handy.' Ads for the Hair stylist, Nails, Dry cleaning, Internet Cafe, Shoe shine. All pretty much useless. Tossing the pile back in the envelope, Kamal pauses. "Internet Cafe?" A whisper escapes his lips. "I haven't emailed anyone for two day." "I could do with an MNS chat." Pulling the offer card back out, he reads it over. Rates $5.00 per hour, every imaginable service available. Open 24-7, and at the bottom, a coupon for ONE FREE hour. "Hell Yes." The obviously excited boy jumps up from the bed. Not wanting to wake his sister, Kamal quietly pulls on his shorts. Takes a clean white T- shirt from the dresser and covers his smooth upper body. Making sure he has everything, Door key, coupon, and few dollars just in case. With his sandals in hand the brave little man sneaks silently out of his room, into the hallway. He was right earlier, the carpet does feel like sponge on his bear feet. The faint crushing sound of carpet is all that can be heard as the 10 year old makes his way back to the elevator. The call button is pushed and held, he waits patiently for the car to arrive. "What if Mother looks out?" That pesky voice is back. Mild apprehension of being caught jolts his nerve. The cars arrival is announced with the same DING from before. Kamal enters the elevator even before the doors are fully open. E is pressed, once, twice, three times before the doors start to close. `Glad I made you ask what E means arnt you?' The voice trys to win points. With the downward motion of the car, the little boy senses relief. Kamal leans against the back wall and puts on his brown leather sandals. Studying the map printed on the back of the coupon, he calculates a sharp left out of the elevator, down the corridor and the Internet Cafe should be on the right. The lights on the control panel change as he passes by the floors, 3 - 2 - 1 - E and the telling DING sounds out. Just like he read on the map, a quick left and though the large double doors. "Good thing there not locked." He thinks. A not too observant desk clerk, covering the night shift, hears the arrival of the elevator on the balcony above, failing to see anyone come out. His view obstructed by the line of baggage carts, stored awaiting the morning rush. Kamal makes his way down the long narrow corridor. It has a striking resemblance to the type he walked in the airports. The continuing blue carpet is all that linked this hall to the hotel. The clean walls and modern styling becoming dominant features. A few fern plants sit in their pots, dotted along the way. Just less than half way, Kamal spies windows on either side of the futuristic walkway. Stopping to peer through the thick double glazed panes, the boy is astonished. With quick realization, Kamal finds he is not in a tunnel, but on a covered bridge. Car pass under him, their headlights disappearing beneath his feet. Glowing red tail light appearing in the dark and running off in the distance. Eager to get on MSN and see if any friends are online, the boy tears himself away for the hypnotic motions of traffic. Just as promised on the map, Kamal finds the Internet Cafe. Door wide open and sounds of television emanating out. Entering the electronic haunt as he owned the place, the boy b'lined to the counter. Plopped his coupon face up on the laminated green counter. "Can I use this?" He asked the old man sitting, staring off absently. "Shit kid, you near gave me a coronary." The aged attendant fast breathed his reply. The gaunt 60 year old man had been hired to cover the 6pm to 8am shift. Not that they expected to be busy, but the policy was 24-7. As long as they had a body in the seat management was happy. So long as the body didn't pass away on duty. "Sure kid, any machine you want, 1 hour free, after that you got to pay." He rambled the line without taking his eye off his portable TV. The sound turned up loud to compensate for his hearing loss. His wrinkled fingers pulled the discarded coupon, allowing it to drop to his side. Kamal spotted snacks on a wire stand to his right. Choosing two candy bars from the mediocre selection. He placed an `Oh Henry' and `Snickers' bar on the counter. "Can I have a fruit juice please sir." A thirsty Kamal spoke loud enough for the aged man to take notice he was still there and needing to be served once more. "A'hl I got is Banana and Strawberry." It is his job to make sure everything is restocked, but its a task the old guy holds off until just before his shift ends. That way he isn't back and forth carrying boxes. His years weakened back no longer able to lift without pain. Unknown to the boy, they were being watched. Cameras in every corner, watching every move. That is standard hotel security, but not the kind of watching that was putting young Kamal in harms way. Pete, the bellhop had arrived earlier to download boy-porn from the internet. He hears Kamals sweet voice ring out from his conversation at the counter. Rather than make his presence known, the teen predator calculates his move. Pulling back into his cubby-hole wanting not to be seen, he listens carefully to hear what part of the room the hot little guy will sit. Pete has been honing his senses for some years. Watching young boys to see how they act and react. Analyzing traits and demeanors to work out who best and who easiest he can concur.The simplest way to abuse and not get caught. Pete is not a harsh child rapist, stereotyped by all the bad tabloid news. He is a boylover, true, but would not dream of hurting a boy. As long as the boy doesn't think of sex as being hurt. One set of foot steps are heard crossing the airconditioned floor. One chair pulled out, one PC whirls to life. Pete is elated to know the boy has come down alone. At least he is for now, the off duty bellhop hopes the situation doesn't change. `Don't bother us until morning.' `Isn't that what I heard the kids father tell them? ` Pete quietly thinks. `All right, gonna get me some boy dick.' Kamal is busily chatting away with a school friend. Telling of his trip to America and the lack of anything exciting to yet happen. The boys enjoying the time together in chat. The Dell computer is fulfilling all his current electronic needs. Fast, responsive and sleek. He likes very much this stylish black case and matching flat screen LCD monitor. How very much he would like to have a similar one at home. To replace his aged machine. He had hoped on getting one for his 10th birthday last month. The boy did well with gifts, but no new computer. Pete waited quietly biding his time, savoring the menace of the hunt. The screen flickered before him, scanning the Internet for new photos, stories, movies anything he could find. The teenage chicken-hawk has the taste, taste for fresh hot suck-ulent boy meat. Finishing the last of his juice, Kamal drops the bottle clanging in to a waste basket to his side. Reaches for another candy bar, only to find two empty wrappers. `Hmmm , I ate both already?" Hands swoosh back the keyboard, fingers fly across the keys. KamalZ: are you going away this summer? Arabkid: nah, you know my parents wont KamalZ: yeah, sucks Arabkid: wish my Ps had let me go with you KamalZ: we would have fun Arabkid: like last year, that was a screem Kamal stops typing, a feeling grips him from inside, a strange gurgle. Then, a sudden sharp pain jabs at him. His guts turn and squeeze, the pain is great, near agony. Kamal hunches forward. The boy is starting to make sense of the pain, his stomach is disagreeing with something he ate or drank. He eyes the spent wrappers, then the discarded bottle. `Bad fruit, your a dumb ass, and you know it.' The voice tells him, matter of factly. KamalZ: gtg Arabkid: why, the wrinklies there KamalZ: na, gota dump bad Arabkid: K..c ya With haste the boy knows he has to run. Within seconds he would be filling those blue silk shorts. So eager to get to the restroom, Kamal grabs the mouse clicking with a flurried rush of motion, START, SHUTDOWN. Flinging his chair back as he stands, Kamal reverses his body from the confines of the cubicle. Scanning the walls for a sign, or symbol, he has to go bad, and now. `Where is it,,,,,,,, there god yes." Spotting the green sign with pictures directing him to the far back of the large quiet room. He speeds away, cold chills on his skin. Kamal runs the short distance, pushing forcefully as he comes in contact with a cold black door. Taking little noticing of the oversized restroom, smells of fresh clean pine eminate. At the back of the room, a stall door hangs slightly open, beckoning him in. Not stopping to look around, the desperate boy races in swinging the door shut behind him. His pants and short hit the ground even before his feet stop. Twisting on the spot he squats on the seat, filling the porcelain bowl with sour remains. Pete notices the sudden commotion in the room, then a renewed silence. Only the old mans TV can be heard. Thinking the kid has left he kicks the air under his desk. `FUCK' Anger rolls his bottom lip as his teeth bite into the thin flesh. `Fuck it' No one can hear his cussing or see the rage engulf his redened face. Unsure, and wanting some type of closure, Pete makes his way to the PC where the boy was sitting moments before. He sheepishly peeks over the short sidewall, not wanting to alarm the kid if he is still there. The absence of a body, that cute sexy body, tells the now incensed teen he missed his chance. Punching the thin carpeted cubby wall in a release of anger, the monitor shakes, causing a tiny flicker of light to reflect off the open candy wrappers. Pete peers his head around to view fully the screen. `OK, what's this.' In his haste to get relief, Kamal didn't fully shut down the computer. The monitor is still showing a confirm shutdown window. Peter grabs for the mouse, clicks [cancel] and is brought to Kamals last few words shared with his buddy back home. KamalZ: gtg Arabkid: why, the wrinklies there KamalZ: na, gota dump bad Arabkid: K..c ya `gota dump.. He's in the Bathroom, Fuc'n A man, Fuc-in-A' A rampant hornyness scores his verile body. His cock flings to full mast. Head turning in the direction of the restroom, the lanky body follows as his legs carry him in a rush to see if the aloof boy is truly still here. Here to be concurred, coerced, enjoyed. Chapter Three - Bliss His face is pale, little beads of sweat appear and roll down his forehead. He sits rigidly, arms tautly extended to the sides of the toilet seat. Hands clenching under the edges. Eyes wide open staring hard at the ceiling while tiny tremors he cannot control begin to shake his body. Kamal didn't hear the door open, or any one enter the brightly light room. Straining and grunting takes most of his control. The sudden on set of pain managed to clear his intestinal track rather quickly. A few red faced pushes and its all over. His bowels delay telling the brain of its empty state. His poor spent rectum keeps pulsing, trying to release feces that no longer exist. Quietly Pete eases his way across the floor, listening closely. Assessing the situation, the room, his chances. `Is this the kid? Of course it is, it has to be him, doesn't it?' Pete can hear the boys sounds from the other side of the thins off-gray partitioned wall. With the stealth of a CIA agent, the off duty Bellhop crouches to the cold floor, head twisting he peers under the gap betweenwall and floor. A crisp whiteness of porcelain gleams off the floor tiles. Then, there, the boys feet and legs dangle down in front of the toilet. Khaki shorts, covering leather sandal. He cant quite make out anything higher up. Inwardly assured this is the boy. Pete eases himself back up to a stood position, back straight and poised in anticipation. "You all right in there? Giving a soft knuckle rap on the wall. "Ahh, yes Sir. I think so." Kamal stunned to hear a voice. "I love your accent kid, and you don't have to call me Sir, I thought we were buds." The phrase ends on a high tone bringing buds to an enunciated waver. "Peter?" "From the hotel?" Kamal could now put a face to the voice. "Y'p, but I prefer Pete. And what's your name anyhow?" "Kam" The boy shortens keeping in line with the unseen teen. "You sure you OK?" "There's sure a lot of noises coming from in there." "Well, no, my butt hurts real bad. I don't know why." Pete takes the last statement as an invite. Pushing lighkty on the door, it swings open. Neither of the boys realized it had been left unlocked. Kamal gulps a sudden bolt of air seeing the casually dressed teen enter his stall. The half naked boys hands rush to cover his mid section. Pulling his T- shirt down, not wishing to blemish his modesty. Showing little interest, Pete notices the boy covering up quickly, he chooses not to acknowledge the action. Instead his mind is busy working, working out a plan of seduction. Getting a boy to enjoy sex and keep quiet about it easy. Coercing a boy to start sex play requires a great talent. A talent that Pete has almost mastered. On entering the stall, Pete took size of the space and all its contents. Boy, toilet, air freshner, sink, hand rails, paper dispenser and hand dryer. "Good, everything I needs is here." His plan is laid. The Boylover is glad Kam chose the handicap stall. So much more room, and the sink, that will be very helpful. "Its OK buddy, I'm trained in these kinda things." He says dropping his satchel at the boys feet. The door now shut and the bolt of the latch slid locked. Pulling a stack of paper hand towels from the dispenser over the sink, Pete draws some warm water dampening the brown paper. "Let me have a look then, stand up kid." His order is given in a commanding tone. Kamal unsure of the situation, feels a little apprehensive. He stands as instructed and lifts his shirt bareing the majority of his young body for the teen to see. Flicking lose water from his hands, Pete turns to notice the mocha colored boy standing with his back to him, neck twisting to see the teen. "Lets have a closer look then." His teen cock twitches in his sweat pants. A touch of anxiety starts to show in the mocha preteen eyes. As the warm water is wiped in his crack a soothing calm clears the voices in his head. Pete, kneeling behind the child gently washes away the acidic remnants of bowel movement leaving clean light brown skin. A little raw, a little tender. The boys firm butt cheeks are parted, more gentle washing performed. His anal ring comes to view, a little redder than pink, no longer rose. The diuretic fluids have left a temporary inflammation on the boys hot sphincter. "That's a little sore. We best put a little cream on it." A very horny Pete convinces the youngster. Reaching into his satchel he dropped by Kamal's feet, Pete pulls out a small clear plastic container. Telling the unsuspecting boy it will help the pain, he scoops up a very large glob on his finger. The cool slippery concoction is spread liberally on the waiting boys hole. A home made mixture, 70% Anal-Ease 25% KY Jelly and 5% WET. Cherry flavored WET. Pete has been making and storing jars like this one since he was first made aware of anal sex by his fourth grade elementary school teacher. Fingers probe the boys anal passage. A little more pressure is applied with each successive circling motion. Pete takes notice as the silent child slowly relaxes to his new erotic feelings. His balance being challenged with the hap-hazardous stance and gentle probing. "Kam, lean forward and hold the rail on the wall Guy!" He requests in a subtle knowing voice. Kamal seeing the metal handrail designed for handicapped people, takes hold with both hands, allowing his the side of his head to rest between them. Late night sleepy feelings are coming fast. Pete's soothing light touches and drawing voice slip Kamal deeper and deeper into another word. A world somewhere between now and dreamland. Fingers probing the tight little boy hole, Pete feels the muscle tissue loosen. Switching from fingers, the teen inserts both thumbs in the entrance to the boys chasm. Lightly prying the sides of the young ass open, inserting more of the home-made jell inside. Both thumbs slowly invade the boy and stretch the sides outward. Not a wince or word muttered, Pete guides his thumbs inside the boy until his palms rest flat on the firm boy checks. The ten year old now feeling the invasion of his back passage moans a pleasured release. "Have you had sex before kid?" Pete asks of the boy. Kamal nods his head, recalling his first experience. Thoughts of cock sucking bring a smile to his face. Thoughts so vivid a taste of man sperm tingles in the back of his throat. Mis-interpreting the nod, Pete thinks the boy means he has engaged in anal sex. He prepares to take the boy to a newer high. Removing one hand from the coffee ass, Pete stands on his knees, pulling down his cotton track pants and plad boxers. More of the jell is taken from the container sat at his side, wiped on his stone hard cock head and soothed down the 6" shaft. The teen boy thinking only with his small head brings himself up on his feet. Cock higher than the boys butt hole, Peter pushes the sensitive head down. Bringing it in contact with the young virgin ass. A little forward pressure and the purple throbbing head is resting at the gate to boy-hood paradise. A deep breath to keep from coming. The sensation of the little ass-ring squeezing his head sucking on his piss slit, is almost to much. Hands resting palms down on the boys soft smooth hips. Bones almost jutting through the skin. The teen curls his fingers, taking hold of the boys pelvis. In unison, their eyes close and roll. The teen cock slides forward with little effort into the hot hole of the tiny boy. Bottoming out in no time, the pain killing jell is working wonders. Kamal feels the penis fill his ass. His own dick is dancing to the rhythmic fucking. Slow steady thrust with an upward tilt. The teen is not fucking the boy, he is riding him to a pelvic waltz. His hands holding firm the boy as he leads this exotic, erotic love dance. "You are so hot boy, I love your ass" His labored words purred to the boy holding fast to the wall. Kamal's head arches up on his neck, eyes roll deep back into his head. Stars shooting in euphoria. The time is close, Pete's balls pull near to his body. A firm grip taken on the boy hips. The gentle Shakespearean love session fades, a ruff fast pounding take its place. Every thrust of the man cock bottoms out. The boy now being screwed with quick repetitive rabbit fucks. Kamal's young preteen body shudders, his first orgasm quickly engulfs the boy. His little balls retract into their childhood hiding place. The youthful dick twitches, unseen as he is rocked with pleasure. The teens, man-cock squeezed from the boys anal ring clamping down in orgasm. Their hips rock in tune during the last moments of blissful copulation. Pete drills one last time, forward, ejecting his semen deep inside the boys tight ass. Berate jets of cum, fly even deeper inside the boys colon. Chapter Four- Its in the name Kamal finds himself looking out a window overseeing the corner of a very tall Hotel. Back in the overpass corridor the boy still in a daze of bliss. Looking out absently at the cars passing by. Lights leave their trail in the black of night. A few street lamps contrast the dark streets. Minutes pass the boy by, his gaze unbroken into the distance, a numb feeling still encasing his body. A stray headlight flashes across the widow pane burning into his dream state. His eyes follow the beam back to the ground under him. A car has stopped at the corner. Unusual, the traffic light offers the driver permission as they shine an emerald green on the silvery hood and up to the darkened windshield. A boy emerges for the cars passenger side. The door slams shut without the boy touching it. Removed form the confines of the automobile, anger boils the child to a point of release. A punch is thrown. The tightly clenched first wallops the doors window. Kamal can see the child stood, tears forming in his eyes, as the car peels away. Not knowing why anyone would leave a child on the side of the road so late at night, he decides to see if the boy needs help. A few feet back down the overpass is a door with `Exit' marked in bold letters. A modest push on the horizontal bar and the door swings open. A small concrete landing with rusty metal rails lead him downstairs to the sidewalk below. Coming up on the boy from behind, Kamal sees the boy stamping his feet in frustration. Comprehending the boys situation has obviously infuriated him. "You OK?" Kamal asks the young stranger, concern in his voice. "Huh!" the boy pauses. Shocked to find he is no longer alone. "FUCK OFF, this is my corner. The verosity of the verbal attack brings fear to Kamal. He backs away, not wanting a confrontation. "Sorry, I, I didn't mean it. You startled me man." The boy reaches a hand to shake with Kamal. "The guy stiffed me, I sucked his stinking dick and I never got paid." The scruffy boy kicked the ground again in protest of his plight. "Paid, you get paid for it?" A quizative Kamal asks, eyeing up the boy. He isn't any older than me, is he? Kamal questions his own self. "Yah, you ever had sex with a man?" The new boy returns the same looks, sizing up Kamal. "Sure, I just ummmm, well he just, in my, Yes." Kamal cant quite find the words. "I'm Kamal, friends call me Kam." He takes the hand to shake it but finds himself holding the onto the boy peering in his eyes. "Hi Kam, I'm Tony, I love your accent and if you like we can make a lot of money together if your interested." Tony knows what his punters like, and Kamal will be a hit. "So, whats Kamal mean, like where your from?" The kid asks, knowing the clients will want to know later. "Perfect one. But I aint perfect." Kamal gives his answer with a smile and grin. Before Kamal can decide if he is interested in Tony's offer, a car pulls up. The power window form the expensive looking car glides down. A well dressed handsome looking man leans over the seat looking at the boys. "You boys looking for some fun?" A deep voice rings out in the dark. His eyes examining the two prize cuts of boy meat standing on the curb, still holding hands. "Sure but it wont be cheap." Tony exclaims in a forceful tone, still upset from his previous financial set back. "OK, $100 for both, 30 minutes and you both to worship my body. Deal or not?" An experienced John offers the barter back to Tony. "Money up front and its a deal, Daddy." Tony elongates the word Daddy, with a sexy timbre in his voice. "Aaa, What's up with him? He looks stoned or something." The man eyes between the pair of boys. "Nah, he's just all glassy eyed `cus he just got fuck good by his boyfriend." Retorts Tony. The man tells them to get in, a smile pursed on his lips. Ideas of fucking the boys ass jolt his penis to an steel erection. Tony tells Kamal to get in the back as he jumps in the front seat of the Cadilac, sliding straight over to the man. His hand landing on his tented crotch. Kamal still in his feeling of sexual bliss comes to a stop directly behind the man, visions of his American bring his heart to a palpitating frenzy. The warm boy lips kiss the mans neck and ears. Cooing, moaning sensual sounds Kamal is ready for more action. The car pulls away from the curb- side into the darkness, two gorgeous boys about to enjoy the virility of a man and explore their own sexual desires.