Date: Wed, 25 Aug 2010 19:05:08 +0000
From: Josh Long <joshcock@hotmail.com>
Subject: Rob Boibeder 4

"I don't know," Ash tried to be honest, say what he meant, what he was
thinking. "I guess I got nothing to complain about so far," Ash smiled,
weighing up all he'd had done for him since he was picked up against the
bit about letting Boibeder look at him naked.

"Good." Boibeder took a drag on his rollup, thought for a moment, then
said,

"You might as well know that keeping my hands off you requires considerable
will power."

End of chapter 3

Ash became serious; this was where his problem was: he didn't mind that
Boibeder fancied him; he'd got his head round that, and in a way, it was
sort of nice, that someone thought he was worth fancying. Being fancied was
well different from being actually had, though, letting a man do things to
him that only poof boys let men do. If things were normal, Ash knew, if he
was at home, hadn't been dumped on the streets, there was no way he'd even
think about letting stuff like that happen. But things weren't normal; he
had been dumped on the streets, and he'd been, well, rescued, by a guy who
was nice to him, bought him food and clothes, promised him a life in a
fancy villa overlooking the sea in southern Spain. This was stuff Ash had
never even dreamed about dreaming about. For a boy like Ash, from his
background, with his total lack of any decent future, this was
paradise. All he had to do to make this impossible chance come true was to
give in to the man who'd rescued him, the man who wanted his cock.

Somewhere in the back of his mind the decision had already been made; it
had been made this morning when he let Boibeder see him hard; but that
decision was still in the dark bits of the mind, it hadn't come to the
surface yet. There were things Ash needed to know before he could accept
the inevitable choice.

"Just off me or off any boy?" he asked.

"Any boy who's fit will give me naughty thoughts," Boibeder smiled, "And
you're certainly fit."

"So you just taking me along `cos you want my cock?" Was this the problem,
the worry that kept the already made decision in the dark bits of the mind?
That once Boibeder had had Ash's cock he wouldn't want him around any more?

"Started that way," Boibeder said honestly, rolling another fag. "Now I
want what the cock's attached to as well."

Again Ash just looked puzzled. What did that mean?

"I don't smuggle boys out of the country, buy them clothes and take them to
Spain just because they've got a nice cock," Boibeder explained. "Though
you do have a very nice cock, by the way."

"So..." Ash wanted to say something like `why did you' but Boibeder
answered him before he could get the words out.

"Because I think I'd like to have you around a lot, not just a day or two,
or even a week or two, but a lot."

Ash's world started spinning.

"What? Stay with you? Even when we get to Spain? Live with you?"

"I think so."

Ash wanted to leap on him, hug him, kiss him, but he started to cry
instead. Not heavily, but his eyes got moister that a boy's eyes are
supposed to get.

"That's silly," he managed to say. He knew it wasn't what he wanted to say,
but, since he had no idea what he did want to say it was all he could come
up with.

"Yes, it is silly," Boibeder agreed. "Silly for me to think a boy your age
would want to tie himself to an old man."

"I didn't mean it like that!" Ash responded fiercely, all thoughts that he
wasn't `that sort of boy' forgotten for the moment. "I meant it the other
way. Silly of you to want to be with someone like me."

Boibeder heard the boy's words with a distinct increase in his pulse
rate. The boy hadn't rejected him, far from it. If anything he'd implied
the opposite.

"And it's silly for me to keep you with me and risk all the trouble it
could cause."

"You don't have to," the boy said, defiant again. "I can look after
myself."

"No you can't," Boibeder grinned at him, amused by the sheer boyishness of
the claim, and melting even more towards this lad who he barely even knew.

Ash had the grace to grin back.

"No, you're probably right," he acknowledged, knowing how scared he was of
being left alone in a foreign land. Or even just of being left alone.

"So if you are going to stay with me, Ash," Boibeder went on, coming, he
knew to the difficult bit, the bit where he had to let the boy choose his
own terms, "If you want to stay with me, that is,"

"Of course I want to stay with you," Ash almost yelled. What did the silly
old fool think he wanted?

"Stay with me at least until you're safe and secure and can choose to stay
or go, we have to plan."

Ash didn't hear the last four words, he was too busy trying not to let his
tears show.

"I want to stay with you," he said slowly and carefully. He had to do it
that way or he'd have blubbed and boys don't do that. Not boys who can look
after themselves, anyway. Then, feeling he had to, he played his trump
card, the card he was sure would keep him close to Boibeder.

"And I don't care if you do want my cock."

It wasn't true, of course. He did care that Boibeder wanted to do things to
his cock; he didn't want it and he was frightened of it; frightened because
he knew it would happen, knew he would hate it, and knew he'd have to let
it happen anyway, however horrible it was.

There was a silence while Ash stared at the ground, hugely aware of what
he'd just said, the enormity of it. It wasn't like he really was `that sort
of boy', he told himself, it was just the one, certain way he had of making
sure the man took him along. As long as Boibeder could get Ash's cock he'd
keep Ash with him. Simple as that, wasn't it?

Then he suddenly looked up, stared Boibeder in the eyes, a nagging truth
trying to surface, "Anyway, I sorta liked it."

"Liked what, Ash?"

"Liked the way you looked at me," Ash blurted, his voice a mixture of
defiance and embarrassment. He had liked it, deep down, he had liked
it. That was the real reason he'd let Boibeder see him hard this morning,
wasn't it? Because Ash, like any other boy, was proud of his cock, and in a
way that there was no way he could even begin to explain, even to himself,
it felt good having a man admire his most treasured possessions.

 "So did I," Boibeder said softly, "So did I, Ash. I thought you looked
absolutely beautiful."

"There you go, then," Ash stated; "Sorted." Although he knew, of course,
that it wasn't sorted; Boibeder wanted to do more than just look, and how
was he going to manage when that time came?

"Sorted," Boibeder agreed while his heart did strange things. He knew, he
was sure he knew, that Ash was saying something else, something more, but
now was not the time to push it.

"So how old are you, really, Ash?" he asked again

Ash shook his head, unwilling to give away that secret, a truth he thought
would ruin everything.

"Truth," Boibeder said, very quietly while the birds twittered and the
autumn leaves rustled in the light, warm breeze.

Ash had to say, he knew he had to say. Dangerous to tell the truth,
dangerous to say nothing. Which was the bigger danger? Heart pumping with
something that was very close to fear, he whispered,

"Fourteen."

Not daring to look at the man, he voiced his fear.

"Not going to turn me in, are you? `Cos I'm too young?"

"No chance," Boibeder said gently. "No chance. Too young to run away, but
not too young for me to want you with me." He reached out and squeezed the
boy's naked thigh, the first physical contact between man hand and below
the waist boy flesh.

A sudden charge of electricity shot through Ash, tensing his body,
preparing him to reject the contact, refuse the intimacy.

He didn't, and slowly, the hand started to feel good, warm and comforting
and his body didn't want to reject the contact, so his mind accepted it.

Trying to lighten the moment with a reference to their now shared and
accepted understanding that he liked boys, Boibeder added, "I love
fourteen."

"Do you?" Ash said with relief, then, curious asked, "Why?"

"'Cos fourteen's a magic age for a boy," Boibeder grinned. "Well, it is for
a horny old boy lover like me, anyway."

Ash wanted to laugh, laugh with relief and laugh at Boibeder's total
honesty about his interest in boys.

"Nice, smooth legs," Boibeder said, stroking the one he had been squeezing,
"And lovely perma-hard cocks."

Now Ash did giggle and for some reason, a reason he wouldn't accept even if
he knew what it was, he wished Boibeder would check that he was rapidly
meeting that criterion.

Then he was serious again, serious, defiant and bitterly angry.

"I was fourteen yesterday. My fuckin' birthday and that cow threw me
out. On my fuckin' birthday!"

The tears almost won this time, but they were tears of bitter anger, not
the softer ones that had almost escaped earlier.

Boibeder slid an arm round the slender shoulders beside him. It was
intended for comfort, but it felt good as well, having this young boy so
close and he felt almost guilty as the thought that the slender, young body
would soon be cuddled up to him, naked in their bed, slid inevitably into
his seducer's mind. Ash, Boibeder knew, would melt into his arms and yield
his inexperienced flesh to any advances the seducer would make.

Only just fourteen! That certainly explained the only just beginning pubic
hair and the boy's obvious innocence of matters sexual. Ash would not be
the first boy of that sort of age that Boibeder had devirginalised, he knew
how their minds worked and how the workings of their minds dictated the
workings of their young bodies. He'd long since worked out that Ash was
both innocent and inexperienced, ideal material, ripe for seduction. He
knew from long experience, that once you'd eaten a boy's spunk there were
only two ways that boy could go – away and never to come back or into
your bed on a regular basis. Young Ash, craving for attention, craving for
a father figure, craving for someone to love, would give everything to
anyone who offered hope of satisfying any one of those cravings. Boibeder
could satisfy all three and he knew it, and the brain between his legs was
willing to exploit all three in order to enjoy Ash's firm, young, fresh,
flesh. The brain in his head raised only one condition, he must not let the
young boy down, must not use him and lose him. If he took the boy to his
bed, and he had every intention of doing just that, then he must also keep
the boy for as long as he wanted to stay, and he must make sure the boy
knew that, even though Boibeder wanted his cock, lusted for his cock and
was enjoying all his young, firm body had to offer, that he also wanted the
boy because he was Ash and not just random bedmeat. Ash was an unexpected
addition to the list of boys who'd yielded up their cocks, he'd long since
given up hoping that a fourteen year old would let him inside his boxers
without serious financial inducement, and so Ash was not one that he had
any intention of missing out on now and, with luck, for some time to come.

All he had left to do was get that first mouthful of spunk.

"Your next birthday will be one to remember for very different reasons if
I've got anything to do with it," he said softly to the back of Ash's
slender, and oh so kissable, neck.

He could feel the words sinking into the boy. Feel the angry tears
stopping, feel the dejection starting to drain away as a hope began to
grow, feel the boy's body grow firmer as his need fed the hope and made it
stronger.

Slowly Ash straightened, lifted his head. Almost fearfully, pleading with
his eyes, he looked at Boibeder to find the man gazing at him. Taking
confidence, he made his plea, trying to make it sound matter of fact, and
failing dismally, he said,

"You mean you'd be willing to keep me a whole year?"

"And a fair few more after that if you were daft enough to want to stay
with a far too horny old boylover."

Ash nearly cried again, instead he flung himself at Boibeder, wrapping his
slender arms round the far less slender Boibeder.

"Take that as a `yes' then, shall I?" Boibeder murmured.

Ash raised his face, he didn't need to say anything, his expression and the
light in his eyes, said it all.

To his amazement, Boibeder eased forward and kissed him on the forehead,
then held him tight.

Here, out in the open where any and everyone could see, Boibeder had kissed
him and hugged him!

What would people think!

"People might see," Ash hissed.

Boibeder smiled and whispered back, "This is France. It's no problem for a
grandfather to kiss and hug his grandson."

"They won't know I'm your grandson," Ash said, reasonably enough
considering he was no such thing.

"They'll just assume it. Natural family behaviour. Very convincing,"
Boibeder assured him.

"Really?" Ash asked, disbelieving. People didn't behave like that in his
world.

"Trust me," Boibeder smiled.

 "Shit!" Ash muttered. "So you won't have to hide me or anything?"

"Nope," then Boibeder grinned, "But I'd best not overdo it in the streets;
people might think you were my boyfriend."



Half an hour or so later, back in the Range Rover, heading ever south, Ash
was still basking in a warm, sunlit world. A world he'd never been in
before. A world where he was actually wanted! Yes, the man wanted him for
his cock. Ash knew that, and now he knew he'd decided that his cock was a
very small price to pay for being wanted. Did Boibeder feel for him,
anything like the things he felt for Boibeder? Ash loved Boibeder, or
thought he did, this man who'd rescued him, taken him along, shown him
kindness and promised so much more and he didn't care at this moment if all
Boibeder felt was a desire for his cock. If his cock would keep Boibeder
close, he could have as much of it as he wanted.

Then words from earlier came to his mind.

"You said you wanted me to be your boyfriend," he said quietly. For that,
he might, just might, try to be just a little bit, the sort of boy that he
really didn't want to be. He wasn't, of course he wasn't, but he could put
up with being cuddled and even try not to show he hated it if, when,
Boibeder went for his cock.

"No," Boibeder dashed his hopes, "I said people might think you were my
boyfriend."

With a little, half smile, he added,

"But I certainly wouldn't mind if you were."

Ash's hopes shot up again, but not so far as to stop him thinking, and,
boylike, worrying.

"But you don't know me, anything about me." He could think of hundreds of
things that would surely put Boibeder off, not the least being his
background.

"What I've seen and heard so far, sounds pretty good to me," Boibeder
smiled, then grinned openly, his heart bouncing, "And I'm pretty sure the
things I've yet to hear and learn won't put me off."

Ash went `ping' all over. Boibeder did something similar, knowing he
wouldn't be sleeping alone tonight, or for a lot of nights to come.

Love is a dangerous thing to talk about with a fourteen year old boy you've
only known for less than a day.

Boibeder steered the conversation back to safer ground.

"I'm a greedy old man, Ash," he smirked at the road ahead, and reached for
the boy's thigh, which the obliging boy moved closer.

"Be as greedy as you want," the boy said, relishing the unthreatening feel
of hand on his skin. There was no threat while the hand stayed where it
was, moved no higher.

"We'll see," Boibeder said, then casually asked,

"How often do you wank?"

Ash was stunned! That wasn't the sort of thing you asked people! That was
something private. Embarrassing as well. You knew how often you wanked, but
nothing about how often others did. Did you do it too much? Too little? So
he went red and shrugged in the way teenagers do when they don't know what
to say.

"Come on, tell," Boibeder insisted. "Be honest."

Ash mustered up the courage to answer, it wasn't easy, but he did it.

"Don't know," he lied. "Two, sometimes more, sometimes less." That, he
thought, should cover all options.

"Two? Reasonable, but I doubt I could have kept it to two when I was your
age," Boibeder grinned and Ash breathed a sigh of relief and confessed
more.

"Usually in the morning when I wake up, and at night before I go to sleep."

"And sometimes a few more during the day?" Boibeder pushed.

Ash grinned and went red at the same time, "Yeh, sometimes."

"I think fourteen year old boy spunk is good for breakfast, elevenses,
lunch, tea, dinner and supper."

"You dirty old man," Ash sniggered, then realised Boibeder had seemed to
imply that he'd actually eat Ash's spunk! What???!!!

"You want to suck my cock????" Ash asked, wondering why anyone should want
to do something like that! Have it done for you, yeh, ok, but actually do
it to someone else?

"Very much!" Boibeder affirmed.

"An' have me spunk in your mouth?" Ash was incredulous.

"Every time," Boibeder grinned, "Every single time."

Ash wondered both about the practicalities and the possibilities of getting
sucked off six times a day.

"Yup," Boibeder agreed. "Still want to be my boyfriend?"

"Dunno. Think about it," a now incredibly relaxed Ash sniggered again. Why
was he so relaxed? Talking about getting sucked off, about a man eating his
spunk? Ash wasn't like that; was he? Cuddles maybe, but getting his cock
sucked? But, then, talking about it wasn't the same as actually doing it;
no harm in just talking. "What happens if I can only manage four?"

"Then I'd have to put you on a training programme," Boibeder grinned.

"Ok," said Ash, thought hard, took a deep breath, and moved his leg closer
to Boibeder so the man could get his hand a little higher up his shorts.

Why did he do that, for fuck's sake? What was happening to him?



I know it's a long seduction, but Boibeder isn't the sort to rush things,
he's well aware that part of the pleasure of bedding a boy is in seducing
him. Don't rush to get his knickers off and then they'll come off not just
once, but many, many times.

joshcock@hotmail.com