The soccer was perfect for my Saturday afternoon workout. Just a pick-up game in the park, it was twenty-somethings like myself, some teenagers and even a few younger kids nipping around the edges hoping for a touch or two of the ball. The goalposts were backpacks and water bottles and the feel of the ground under our sneakered feet was as rewarding as thumping the ball. It was relaxed fun, but the play was vigorous. Best of all, being somewhat new to the town of Seever, Tennessee, I was among people.
I love people. There's no point to being human if the rest of humanity doesn't intrigue you and make you salivate over the web of relationships and learning that is society.
Already I had made a few friends in the game. I had too much of a weightlifter's physique to be good at skills like dribbling or passing, but I could see the openings in the other team's defense and the strikers and playmakers respected that enough to take my advice.
It was near the end of this game. My latest trap worked perfectly. Until it didn't. This big bull of a defender got in the way of the striker as he cut left. The next thing I knew, the other team's best mid-fielder was past me with the ball and had no defenders before him.
A pink streak flashed by his side, coupled with a whirl of white sneakers and the ball was knocked into the open. The action paused to reveal an athletic boy of about twelve in a bright pink polo shirt.
I had seen him join the game earlier; it was hard to miss a boy in bright pink shirt. But he had been on the far side of the field from me and had only been a part of a few plays.
Now that he'd saved the team from my busted plan, I drifted over to him in the backfield as the ball moved back towards the other goal.
"Nice play, kid."
"Thanks, Mister Stennis."
I'm sure my jaw went slack in surprise. I'd only ever introduced myself as 'Rick' here at the park. The boy was looking downfield towards the action, but I could tell that he was still paying attention to me. He was smiling to himself for pulling the trick with my name.
"Do I know you?" I asked.
"No." He leaned forward a bit, tracking the distant ball, his pink shirt seemingly molded to his trim torso.
I decided to play it cool. I just waited with him while our team pressed the attack on the far end of the field.
Eventually, he cracked, but not all the way. "My name is Danny," he said. "Danny Parson."
"Nice to meet you. I'm Ri—"
"Heinrich Stennis," said Danny. That sure was a cocky smile he had. "From Steiger, Fritz and Ernst. I know."
"I'm at the courthouse for the summer. My school has a job observation program."
I gave the boy a closer look. He was handsome, with a cleft in his strong chin and cool, dark eyes under a solid forehead. His hair was straight and black, windblown, with the longer bits in front sweeping across his brow.
"I didn't know the courthouse even had a student program," I said as we shadowed the distant ball together. "Haven't seen you around."
He moved fluidly, with a faint snap of aggression in his casual run and half an ounce of arrogance in the swivel of his neck.
He said, "I'm in probate and family law. The old building in the back of the main complex." Then he smiled. "I guess they felt you criminal court lawyers would corrupt us or something."
"I've never been over there," I said, surprised because I liked to wander the grounds on my few breaks to clear my head. Well, okay, I admit: To grab a cigarette, away from the odious 'No Smoking' signs inside the new county and municipal building. "I'll have to come and take a look around sometime."
The game didn't last much longer and I only got a brief wave goodbye to Danny as he left with a couple of his friends. He waved back with his I-got-you-figured-out smile.
But what had he figured out, I wondered.
I didn't have a court appearance until Wednesday. I thought about Danny a lot before then. Mostly it was the vibrant image of him in that pink shirt. Was I behind the times? Was pink acceptable among middle school boys now? And the shirt had not been some quasi-pink pastel or peach. It had been the color of a carnival flamingo, but the boy had worn it as if he wasn't aware of the politics of the color.
Why was I so fascinated with his shirt? Maybe because he looked so damned tasty in it? Or was it the level of assurance he displayed by wearing it?
I decided not to have lunch in the cafeteria with the other lawyer scum despite the opportunities for networking and collecting new anecdotes of the worst—and most entertaining—kinds of human behaviour. Instead, I took my brown bag out to a cracked stone bench near the ironwork gate that separated the new court building from the old. No one ate lunch here anymore it seemed. A small tree in the weedy garden gave sprinkled shade from the summer sun.
I loosened my tie and placed my jacket carefully beside me. As I ate, I had a clear view of the peeling paint on the front door of the building where Danny was stationed. When the tuna salad was done, I gave my stomach five minutes to settle before lighting up a smoke.
"That is such a disgusting habit," said a girlish voice behind me. It turned out to be a tween in a conservatively cut skirt and blouse, her hair in a severe pony-tail. Danny stood grinning beside her with another boy, both of them in serious, long-sleeved white shirts and dark slacks. Danny's tie was bubble-gum pink and his hair defied his neat dress with its tumbled look. He leaned against the fence, clearly satisfied to just let the others attack me. From their posture, it was clear that this was a battle-tested group of friends. It was almost certainly no accident that they were working at Danny's side this summer.
The second boy was not bad looking, but he had over-gelled his hair, and I could smell the cologne on him even through the smoke. He said, "Man, I'm never going to smoke. Girls hate that. I'd never get laid. I mean, it was cool like a hundred years ago, because it was a good way to impress women that you were a real man, like having a hairy chest, but not now."
"Hairy chests?" said the girl, incredulous. "Don't make me vomit."
The boy turned to the girl, but was still throwing his voice in my direction. "My sister says that she could never kiss a guy who smoked."
"I don't know about that," said Danny, coming off the fence. "I'd kiss a guy who smoked." He looked me straight in the eyes. "If he was hot enough. You know, in good shape and smart, like, say...a lawyer who played soccer." He turned slightly, towards the front door of their building. The others seemed unperturbed by his declaration and simply fell into place beside him as if by magnetic pull. Still in eye contact with me, Danny added, "Of course, he'd have to at least swallow some mouthwash first."
I was too stunned to say anything as they walked towards the door, almost afraid to speak in case the performance was not yet over. On a hunch, I unhooked three buttons at the top of my shirt and waited. Danny looked back right after he ushered the other two kids into the building, his face set in that sly smile. Casually, I pulled my shirt aside. To any observer I would have been simply a man looking to get cool on a hot summer day. But it revealed to Danny the thick mat of dark hair covering my muscular chest. He took a stutter step as his knees went weak for half a second and his smile slipped, replaced by a mix of alarm and amazement, before he regained his poise and went inside.
Friday, I was back at the courthouse and we recessed early due to a scheduling conflict. Thank goodness. I was already jittery from not smoking and the judge had reprimanded me twice for losing focus.
I lodged my briefcase with the security desk and headed for the probate building. One short conversation with a janitor who liked 'knock-knock' jokes and I was at the back office where Danny worked.
The pink tie was easy to spot behind the reception desk. "Good morning, Mister Stennis," said Danny, holding his hand out. "It's nice of you to visit us. Is there anything I can help you with?"
I said, "Very professional, Mister Parson. Very sincere." We shook hands, my first time touching him. Electrical tingles ran up past my elbows. "Did they train you to greet everyone that way?"
"No, they didn't train us to do anything." Danny smiled disdainfully. "This place is full of people who just goof off. But, I thought I should be doing the job the right way if I'm going to be doing it at all."
"Practice is never wasted I've heard. You should keep it up."
Danny cleared his throat, slipping back on the mask of decorum. "Would you care for a guided tour of our facilities, sir?" He gestured back out the office door.
"Are you sure?" I asked, stepping out of our impromptu customer service act. "I know they must have you kids on some kind of leash in here."
"My duties for the day are taken care of," said Danny, still in character. "I am sure my supervisor, Mister Crocker, 'that smelly motherfucker,' will be delighted to hear that I was of service to you when he gets back from his one-hour coffee break. Assuming he doesn't simply move on to his two-hour lunch break."
As I followed him out of the door, I said, "You've got a mean streak on you, kid. And quite a tongue too."
"Oh, you have no idea the things my tongue is capable of."
I took a quick look about to make sure no one was around to overhear. Danny smiled, happy at my discomfort.
"So, what do you actually do here?" I asked as I followed him up a discolored stone stairway.
"We're supposed to only observe and take notes, but they have us do intern type stuff. Make coffee and fetch things mostly."
"Yes, actually." Danny led me down a side corridor lined with faded doors and then back down the next flight of stairs. "I'm learning that things in the courts aren't how I imagined them. It's not about using the right language and logic and any of that stuff you see on TV. It's about who knows which clerk and which judge went to school with which lawyer and who's the most willing to dig in for a long, dirty fight."
I covered my mouth in jovial shock. "Are you saying that there's corruption in the court system?"
"You ought to know," said Danny going down a dead-end corridor. "I saw that bottle of scotch you gave Judge Hernandez in the parking lot."
"A mere token of my esteem, Danny, to salute the judge's erudite ruling in a recent case."
"Which you won, of course."
"Of course," I said. Then I looked at the approaching wall. We had not passed any people for a while in this deserted section of the building. "You know, this is an odd guided tour. You're not making any stops or pointing out any sights."
"That's because there's only one place in this rat nest worth seeing." He took a keycard from his pocket and opened a door that I had not even realized was a door, since it was painted the same pale green as the wall.
With a flourish, Danny led me into a storeroom. Uncountable stacks of black and brown binders and books stood on tall, shadowed shelves. Sunlit dust floated above it all, near the high, arched ceiling that was visible like the sky through a forest.
I sniffed the still air. It was dry with the time-traveling scent of old paper and rusty steel. My footsteps raised more dust on the plain, wooden floor. Sarcastically, I said to Danny, "Oh this is wonderful! This is the most marvelous storage room I've ever seen. It's like Niagara Falls frozen in winter. Like the throne room of Gond—"
"I'm sure you know by now that the look of a room isn't important," said Danny. "It's what you do there that makes it special."
And what were we to do in this room, I wondered. My stomach tingled and my cock swelled at least an inch as I observed the shine of Danny's lips, the curved line of his neck near the collar of his shirt and the swell of his butt as he turned his back to me.
Despite all the signals and come-ons from Danny, I held back, preferring to joke instead. "Yes, Danny, you're right, and what people do here is store crap. Giant piles of it."
Danny finished 'locking' the door with a chair under the knob and smiled his smile of secret knowledge as he faced me. He signaled me to follow him with his finger and backed away, towards the brighter center of the large room.
At the intersection of the passageways, the floor was awash in light. Even Danny's dark hair seemed to glow as he waited for me. After joining him, I stopped in awe. The ceiling was at its highest point there and near the top of the wall, to my left, was a large, round window of sparkling stained glass. Jesus in a white and red robe was descending from a blue sky, his hands spread in majestic benediction. Rays of gold spread from behind him as boyish angels played trumpets on either side.
"Wh— How— Thi...wow."
"I knew you'd be impressed," said Danny.
It was too high up to reach, but I held my hand out to the window anyway, the incoming light streaming through my spread fingers. "This is amazing. Where did it come from?"
"This used to be the courtroom chapel. Then there was this big case a while back about removing a Ten Commandments monument over in Alabama, so the chief judge here in Seever made it into a storage room to hide the window, before any atheists decided they didn't like it."
"How'd you know it was here?" I dropped my hand to look at Danny.
"The judge was my grandfather." With a mix of sarcasm and admiration, the boy added, "Grandpa told me that one day God is going to vaporize all the atheists and this place will be a chapel again."
"You know, I worked a small part on a case about this kind of thing once. A cross erected on a highway. We took—"
"Munroe v. City of Jerusalem Grove, 2006," said Danny. "You saved the case. The judge was about to throw it out because she said your client didn't have standing and you gave her this argument about the interconnectedness of humanity and changed her mind. You even quoted John Donne."
"That was cliche and showy, but necessary," I said. "In any case, what swung it for us was me sweet-talking the judge in the hotel bar the night before."
"Nothing inappropriate, I hope," Danny teased.
"Of course not," I said quickly. "But the point I'm making is that I've fought against this kind of thing. I know in my heart that Jesus being here is a signal of bias in the law—the law that I swore to keep pure. But I look at this window and all I can feel is wonder."
Danny walked up next to me and took my hand in his, like a small child with a parent. We stood together in the light, looking up at the sun's rays playing with the glass on the way through.
Looking over at the boy, I said, "Danny, you didn't invite me down here for sex at all, did you?"
He looked scornful. "Uh, no."
"Well, this was worth the trip anyway, so thanks."
For five minutes I stood there studying the gentle face of Jesus, the triumphant posture of the angels and the divine glow of it all.
Then I looked over at Danny again. "But I notice you did lock the door when we got here. Are you sure you didn't invite me down here for sex?" I congratulated myself on figuring out his game. It felt good to knock that cocky smile off his lips.
Except, I hadn't.
More than ever, Danny was looking at me like he was two steps ahead—his 'gotcha' smile. He said, "Well, that took you long enough. I was afraid you—"
Determined to surprise him for once, I grabbed his pink tie and pressed him against the nearest stack of books. Leaning down, I glued my lips to his.
I hoped I'd used enough mouthwash.
With no lack of poise, he kissed me back, his arms attempting to encircle my broad shoulders. I slipped my left hand to Danny's hip, holding him more firmly to the shelf as his body arched in excitement.
"Mmmmmmnnggmmh," he moaned as our heads angled and nudged at each other. Danny broke the kiss briefly to smile up at me and say, "Now, this is what I wanted."
I ignored his commentary and plunged back in, getting my tongue as deep as I could, moving it in robust sweeps, tasting him, learning him. Danny hugged me tighter. He was light enough that I easily lifted him by the arms to a more convenient height, my body still pinning his against the shelf. He tasted so good. He felt so good. The subtle variations of his wet flavor as I made contact in turn with his tongue and his lips ignited the passion in my crotch. I ground myself against Danny's thighs and moaned.
His head twisted sideways for space. "Hey, this is getting kind of uncomfortable now."
"Sorry." I placed him gently on his feet. "I just really enjoy kissing you." I backed away a little.
"Well, don't stop!"
"But you said—"
"I didn't say stop kissing me. It was just awkward in that position." Danny craned his neck up, but was still too short to reach me. I combed his wayward, black hair out of his forehead then bent to his lips and kissed him briefly. "Although," Danny said, "I did enjoy you holding me up like that. You're so strong and that's—"
"Makes you horny?"
"Mmhmm." Danny kissed me again. "Even the first time I saw you I could tell under your suit that you had really big shoulders and arms and that's why I started stalking you. It was like I couldn't control myself. I'd just get this airy feeling in my stomach, you know?"
I lifted Danny again, to the point where his head was actually above mine and kissed him. He wrapped his legs about my torso and settled back down on me, holding my face as we sought each other's tongues and lips.
"And there's something else," he said, loosening my tie.
"The chest hair?"
"Yeah! That was awesome when you showed me under your shirt the other day."
"It's still there, you know."
"I know." Danny lifted my tie free and dropped it. Then he unbuttoned the top of my shirt. I was forced to put him back to the ground so I could remove my jacket and place it carefully on a nearby stepladder. He finished opening my shirt and pulled the front halves apart. With a look of worship, Danny just barely brushed my chest hair with the surface of his palms, sliding his hands up from my stomach. For me, it was like a light tickling breeze. His palms split along my pecs and then descended my side.
"This is sooo cool," he breathed excitedly. "It feels so smooth and thick." Danny sunk his fingers in halfway and made the circuit of my torso again. Then a third time, with his fingertips along my skin. There was a thrill from the idea that this young boy was into my body and into this most male aspect of it. Danny sunk his cheek into the valley between my pectorals, sliding first the left and then the right against me, his nose burrowing into the center as he took deep breaths. "You smell amazing," he said dreamily, "Like stinky in a good way."
I held his head close to me, caressing it, my fingers combing through his hair. Danny's hands wandered down my stomach, sliding past my navel and into the waistband of my pants. I unbuckled my belt for him, then he massaged the front of my boxers with one hand, stiffening my cock even more. His other hand unclasped and unzipped the pants and they fell to my ankles.
"You thought about how far you want to go with this?" I asked him.
"Mmhm." He knelt at my feet, pulling my boxers down and releasing my hard cock to bounce around. Danny seemed not to notice it. Instead, he stroked my hairy legs up from the ankles. Three times, he brought his palm up to my hip, each time stroking deeper in the leg hair.
Then the boy cupped my balls, playing with the scrotal pubes, even sliding a finger on occasion through the hair of my butt crack, making me grunt. The fingers went to the hair above my cock, sliding through it. "Really stinky and really good," said Danny. He moved in, holding the swollen shaft of my cock to his cheek and rolling it slightly along his smooth skin. I shivered. He dipped his nose into my crotch and inhaled with a smile. It was the Danny smile, the one that said he'd made everything happen the way he wanted.
I confess, it annoyed me. I had made a life out of taking those smiles off people, from the coach who denigrated my push-up skills in fifth grade, to the prosecutors who never realized the weak spots in their star witnesses. It was an instinct in me now to never be predictable, to never be mastered.
I grasped Danny's head on either side, asserting myself. "Open up, I need you to suck me."
He tried to keep the teasing going, shying away a bit, but I was too charged up to be sidetracked and in the end he took me in one skillful gulp.
Danny's mouth was the most naturally thrilling place I'd ever parked my cock—warm and moist and soft and slick. He was working on me too, sliding his tongue along the bottom of my length, with a strength that spoke of practice. He kept just the right pressure on my skin with his lips, an abundance of spit slicking the shaft for his sliding motions. Danny understood not to keep too much of a steady rhythm, changing his action to pay attention to the tip, then the base; the top, the bottom; each side in turn. With changes of pace that flowed like a melody.
This boy loved sucking cock. It was apparent in his dreamy look of achievement every time he glanced up; in his enthusiasm and his noisy moans. And that was the biggest thrill of all for me, to have an ardent disciple for my organ.
It was strange to think that I was the one with an adult-sized cock plunging down his child's throat as I gripped his head in place, yet Danny seemed to have all the power. Once again he had exactly what he wanted. The fact that what he wanted was me and my sturdy cock mitigated any sense of being mastered by him.
Who had taught this boy, I wondered. He was far too good to be an amateur. The usual list of suspects cycled through my mind: Uncle, teacher, coach, scoutmaster, priest.
Scoutmaster. That seemed to fit. Danny struck me as the outdoorsy type. A sudden image formed in my mind, Danny in his scout uniform with a bright pink neckerchief, pants down, bent over a log. I chuckled.
Below, Danny lost his tune—his motion not stopping, but becoming erratic. I looked down. He seemed disturbed by the smile on my face, by the idea that my mind was in some secret place where he could not follow. I kept smiling. I had broken his monopoly on hidden knowledge. He accepted my victory and returned to his task, regaining his technique.
It seemed like my cock was getting continuously harder and larger as Danny worked on it. He was totally into the act now, no longer looking up at me to gauge my reactions or to signal his enjoyment to me with his eyes. Instead his eyes were closed, his face half-shadowed by the light coming from Jesus, and he was in communion with the flesh of my cock through his lips—lips which quivered as if in silent prayer. I took it as long as I could, the pleasure spreading out to the ends of my body, as he sucked and rubbed and licked.
"Stop," I said. "Unggh. Stop. Danny. Stop."
He slurped his way off the end and looked at me, sitting back on his feet, hands on his knees.
"Danny, that was amazing."
"Uh, thanks." He seemed almost embarrassed to be praised like that. No doubt he was conflicted about being so good at something so bad.
And speaking of bad things, I was ready for more of Danny.
"Are you as good with cocks in your butt?" I asked, nodding to my still rock-hard organ.
"Sure." He looked like he was getting a birthday present.
"Brace yourself on that shelf."
He was still fully clothed as he bent forward and gripped a steel shelf. After a bit of hobbling in my ankle-grabbing pants, I pressed against his back, my mouth at his ear, my naked cock hard against his ass. I said, "Lose the shirt." As he quickly complied, I opened his slacks and, going to my knees, slid them to the dusty floor with his briefs.
His asshole was a perfect small circle before me, almost a dot. He'd need some serious preparation. I salivated at the thought, and pressed my lips to his pucker.
"Ohhhhh, God. Yess. Rick, that feels so nice."
He smelled divine, and I breathed in big whiffs as I stroked with my tongue at his opening. His flavor was light and the texture smooth. I took more insistent strokes, looking to massage his ass muscles into relaxation. Little by little it worked, until I could stick the end of my tongue into the opening. With some more effort, I was soon straining my tongue to its limit in him, the tension in his sphincter much less. A finger, then two, then three and he was ready.
I stood and hunched my knees, getting lined up at the height of Danny's narrow butt cheeks. He had left the tie on in his haste, so a small band of pink silk encircled his neck. The sight of his back—skinny, smooth and glowing—below my hairy, muscled stomach and chest, made me even more eager and I pulled his hips to me. My cock seemed too wide to possibly fit in him as it rested in his cleft. So much juice had leaked out of my cock's tip that it almost looked like I had already cum over his back.
"You sure you want this?" I asked, my cock throbbing against him with each quickened heartbeat. "It could hurt."
"Yes. I want it. I've wanted it all summer. I've dreamed about it."
"Hang on tight." I stiffened my stomach and pressed against him with the blunt end of my cock, feeling the opening give, but not break.
"Nnnhhhhhgh," Danny grunted.
I tried again, with starting just as slowly, but ending with twice the effort.
I got twice the stretching of his hole, but still no entry. I stroked his flanks, like he was a nervous horse. "Shhh. Relax. We can do this." I slipped a finger in, all the way, and circled it gently. I snagged the tip of my cock inside just as I withdrew the finger.
"That's it, Danny. Good boy. We're going all the way now."
I kept the pressure against him, not trying to go further, but enough to keep from slipping back. I leaned forward, one hand holding my shaft steady and pushed with my hips, feet firmly against the floor.
"Ughhrrrhh," said Danny
Another half an inch gained. The pressure and warmth on my cock head only made me more eager for the full experience. It was easier after that. Danny was really wet and slick from my tonguing and it was just a matter of overcoming the nervousness of his ass muscles. A little patience and some persistence and I slid evenly up his chute, like a battleship through a canal, filling him to capacity with no damage done.
I rested against Danny's back for a little bit once I was securely in.
"How's that feel?" I asked him, licking and gently kissing his shoulder.
"Like I dreamed it would."
Then I felt it: His butt squeezed me. An undulating, controlled grasping of my shaft, starting at the base and squeezing to the tip. This boy's ass was as skillful as his mouth.
"OhhhgghhhhHHHH!!" I reared back, unable to speak sensibly.
"How's that feel?" he asked me.
Even from the side I could see Danny's smirk. He had gotten me good once again: Lain in wait for the right moment to twist my perceptions, knowing all along that he would. I wanted to resent him. (He hit me with another series of squeezes. I kept still, enjoying them.) I couldn't resent him. He had earned his sense of accomplishment. Every step of the way, Danny had put in the effort to know me, to prepare for me. I could not begrudge him that feeling of victory.
A sense of calm surrender took me over. I ceased worrying and just enjoyed the sensations. He continued to work his rectum against my cock even as I started to gently fuck him with short, tentative strokes. Even these tiny motions in his hot, slick ass were thrilling. I draped myself over his back, passing my left hand under his chest to grasp his smooth jaw and pull him into a kiss. With my right hand I reach around for his stiff, not-so-little dick and stroked it.
"God, yes, fuck me," Danny said. "Rub your chest on me. I love the way your hair feels."
I gripped his right shoulder with my left hand and slid my chest along his back, raising up at the end and starting again lower down.
"Ohhh. Mmmhhhmmmnnn," Danny groaned.
This rocking motion complemented my fucking, making me work my cock more strongly into his tight passage, each forward slide of my hairy chest coming with a slow plunge into him. Each withdrawal of my cock setting me up for another slide along his slim, smooth back.
I kept jacking him as I fucked his ass. He was leaking as much as I was. Every time I pressed forward, he stiffened his arms against the shelf, holding himself in place for me to drive into him.
My eyes were losing focus as I slipped into a sexual high. On the bookshelf before me, golden letters glinted in the light: Sexual Depravity and the Law. I smiled. Here I was, a man fucking a child: Committing sin in a chapel; committing crime in a courthouse. With Jesus looking over my shoulder.
I pulled Danny even closer. He was panting now—teeth clenched. I forced my mind to stay extra alert, registering—remembering. The feel of a willing boy under me, giving me the gift of his inner places, letting me spear his tender boy hole again and again. The sight of the tiny hairs on the back of his neck above the circle of his pink tie. The softness of his shoulder as I tightened my grip from underneath.
I was fucking him forcefully now and I could sense the effort it took for him to hold himself in place. His arms were stiff with strain, threatening to buckle each time I rammed him. The shelf began rocking. It made my brain burn with a feeling of power, like our fucking was causing an earthquake. Even as Danny turned to me, alarm and uncertainty on his face, I slammed twice as hard into him. Books were rattling in the shelves now as kept up the stiffer thrusts into his tight ass.
Danny said, "Wait, hold up a bit. This is—" He turned, trying to rise, momentarily letting go of the shelf just as I made my latest firm stroke. This knocked Danny's chest forward into the teetering shelf.
I could have stopped then and given him a chance to regain his balance. We could have calmed down a bit. But his face was full of surprise. He had not planned or anticipated any of this. The lost look on his face sparked the dominant traits I thought I had put away. Now it was as if I had an invisible tail arching up from my spine, tingling with the urge to pounce. The back of my brain was in charge now and I never paused, heaving myself into Danny. One, two, three, four, five...
And then the world was falling. I swear my hips were thrusting into him even as we clung on to the toppling shelf. For a half a second our shelf rested on the one behind and then my next push knocked them both forward. There was a great crashing sound. Five tall steel shelves slowly keeled over, the ones above landing and bouncing on those below.
I heard Danny yell out in pain. I did too, as my knee took a sharp blow. My head then slammed forward onto steel and I bounced back up, my cock popping free of Danny.
The crash instantly cleared my head. I crouched behind the boy and calmly asked, "You okay? You injured?"
He grimaced and looked himself over. "No. Just banged my elbow. Fucking hurts, but I'm not bleeding or anything."
"You think anyone heard that?"
"Nah. No one ever comes down here."
He started to lift himself up on his hands and my brain snapped back into that animal mode it had just experienced. I actually did pounce on him, knocking him flat.
"Jesus, Rick! Wha—"
His hole and my stiff cock were both still mightily slippery and I guided my cock back up his ass easily.
"Aarrggghhhhggh," he protested as I resumed my robust fucking. My lawyer's brain understood enough about Danny by now to know how this was affecting him. The clanging and toppling had disordered his mind and he had lost that feeling of control he cherished and now he was floating in uncertainty. And it turned him on, that feeling of helplessness, of being mine. His dick was harder and leakier than ever when I took it in hand, even as he grunted in shock.
Our shelf lay almost horizontal, with a low up-incline away from us. Danny's waist rested on the edge of the lowest shelf, his ass hanging over the edge. His forearms pressed between himself and the second-lowest shelf. I lifted onto my toes, centering my weight over his ass as I hammered him with carefully timed thrusts. I continued to press my chest hair against his back. I got a thrill as I imagined what we must look like, my large, hairy body grinding on top of his slim, boyish one, amidst all the wreckage.
It was easily ten strokes before Danny got himself recovered enough to pant out, "Rick. Rick, wha—?"
"Isn't this what you wanted?" I slammed extra firmly into him and continued to masturbate his slippery shaft.
"Isn't this what you dreamed about?" Another extra stiff lunge.
"Isn't this why you brought me here?" And another.
"Urggh. Erh. Rhuhyyyr."
"Isn't it?" I asked him as I quickened the pace.
"Yesss," he finally was able to say.
"Good. Well, now you're going to get it."
He gurgled in happiness and confusion.
"Say you want it, Danny."
"Tell me you want it."
"Please," he panted. "Please..."
"Please what?" I asked.
"Please what, Danny?"
I actually eased up at this point, going back to the smoother action that had gotten me so worked up in the first place, moving more like it was a dance. I had made my case and the argument was won. We were in harmony again, him pushing back, me sliding into him, his hole grabbing and massaging me.
I could not tell you how long that lasted. It ended eventually, though, as soon as I felt his ass spasm around me and his body jerk about in orgasm. I started cumming then too, my stomach tightening and my lungs constricting. I struggled to stay in control. As the orgasm hit full force, I led him in the dance unperturbed, keeping the rhythm and the form of the thrusting moves as regular as ever, speeding us over the edge into mind-bursts of light and spasming pleasure.
Slowly, I wound down my fucking, finally coming to rest on him. Danny was groaning. I eased back, slipping my semi-hard length out of him, and fell on my ass on the dusty floor. The boy's butt was propped in the air at an angle with glistening, white cum running down his slim left leg.
He shifted himself upright and sat on the shelf. "Holy shit, that was incredible."
"I'm sorry about not stopping when the thing fell down."
"God, I don't know if my ass hurts more or my stomach." There were red welts on the insides of his forearms and across his ribs.
"I know a good personal injury lawyer if you need one."
He laughed in spite of himself, then got serious again. "Rick, dude, what got into you?"
"Was it too much for you? I'm sorry you didn't enjoy it. I wasn't trying—"
"No, that's not it at all!" said Danny. "I told you, it was incredible. It was hot. I just never expected anything like that from you."
It was my turn to smile as I thought, 'Gotcha.'
I reached out and took his hand in mine. "Danny, you were awesome. I've never had better sex in my life."
He blushed. Again he showed that hesitation to be recognized for his sexual prowess. I pulled him onto my lap so that he sat with his side to me. I kissed his head. "You're a good kid, Danny. You've been a good kid since the minute I met you. Hell, you even got me to quit smoking for the past day."
He said nothing. I tugged his pink tie and he looked up. I smiled and bumped his forehead gently with mine. He smiled back and rested his face against my furry chest, not fetishizing it like earlier, just relaxing against me to enjoy being with me.
He seemed so small and delicate against my dark, hairy muscles. I felt a lurch in my stomach looking at him, like I was falling down an elevator shaft. He was indeed awesome, in the old sense of the word, like walking on water was awesome.
That thought made me glance up at Jesus. For the first time, I noticed how the lips in his picture curled slightly in the corner of one side. Jesus was smirking at me, seeming to say Gotcha.
Comments welcome. Even if you're reading this in an archive years from now, I'd love to hear what you think.