Date: Wed, 16 Nov 2011 11:09:46 -0800 (PST) From: Macout Mann Subject: Teenaged Hustler 7 This story is fiction. Any resemblance to actual places, persons, or events is purely coincidental. This story also contains explicit homosexual activity between adults and teens. Be warned. If such offends you or if you are underage, please move on. TEENAGED HUSTLER by Macout Mann Chapter 7 Tuesday finally came. The Mercedes arrived on time and Matt was waiting in his new suit, looking good. The car took a different route, heading for a newer but also fashionable section of town. Spangler said that his friend, Victor, had invited them to dinner. Afterward, they'd go to Wordsworth Drive. He added that Victor was the city's most prominent interior designer. Had done Spangler's house. Matt was expecting Victor to be a limp-wristed queen; but when he opened the door of his large, modern home, Matt saw a six-foot-six hunk, well developed but not overly so, with a strong, handsome face, dark hair and soft, expressive eyes. "Matt, I'd like you to meet my good friend, Victor Reznick," Spangler said. "This is a real pleasure," Victor responded. His voice was deep and melodious. To Spangler he added, "He is one georgeous boy," "Thanks, Mr. Reznick," Matt said. "Good to meet you too." Matt guessed he was about thirty-five. They shook hands, Reznick taking Matt's in both of his and and holding on for the longest time. "You must call me `Victor,'" Reznick said. Then, "Come in, let me fix us a drink. Martinis all `round?" He didn't wait for a response. Spangler led Matt into a large multi-purpose room. Although the house was modern, it was furnished with elegant Eighteenth Century antiques. "Have a seat, Matt," he said, then added, "That's an original Sheraton ball-and-claw arm chair. About two hundred years old. Victor has some priceless things in here." Matt didn't know what to say. Fortunately he didn't have to reply, because Reznick came in with a silver tray holding both their drinks and a platter, which he said contained caviar canapés. He began an animated conversation with Matt, asking him about his school, his family, his hobbies, what sports he was interested in, his tastes in music, and just about everything else but sex. Matt found it very easy to chat with the two older men; and although he found the taste of caviar strange, it was also very good. Reznick refreshed Matt's and Spangler's drinks and excused himself to finish preparing dinner. Spangler asked Matt what he thought of Victor. "I think he's real neat," Matt replied. "Not what I'd imagined an interior decorator to be like." "Not `decorator,'" Spangler corrected, "Designer is what they're called. They'll tell you in a flash that a decorator is a house painter. Victor has two college degrees and is certified by the American Institute of Design. "But I know what you mean. Victor is far from an effeminate `queer.'" When dinner was served, Matt found three different sized forks on one side of his place setting, two knives and a big spoon on the other side, and a long handled spoon at the top. In addition to the left there was a small plate with a small knife on it. The meal began with soup. French Onion, he learned. On top was a big piece of toast, which he found out was called a `crouton,' with grated cheese on top of that. The big spoon didn't look like any `soup spoon' Matt had ever seen, but that's what they ate the soup with. The men communicated to Matt, not by telling him directly, but by conversing among themselves and using terms like `crouton' and `gratin.' Matt absorbed the terminology without being embarrassed; and he was careful to wait to see which utensil was to be used before picking up the next knife or fork. The dinner continued in courses. Fish next, then a Filet Mignon with a mushroom cap topped with Bernaise Sauce and a medley of vegetables, a green salad with French dressing, which again looked like no "French" dressing Matt had ever seen, and finally a strawberry parfait, followed by coffee served in `demitasse cups,' which were less than half the size of any cup Matt had ever seen. They adjourned to Reznick's library, where they drank a liqueur, called Triple Sec, out of tiny wine-like glasses. It had an orangy flavor but was very strong, Matt thought. They discussed the dinner, encouraging Matt to comment on each course. Then Reznick got up and said he wanted to show Matt his bedroom. Spangler said he'd find something to read in the library. Upstairs Reznick told Matt that he really liked him and would like to have him visit again. He wasted no time before cupping Matt's privates in his ample palm and placing Matt's hand on his crotch. Matt wasn't shy in responding. They carefully undressed each other, putting their fine clothes on hangers that just happened to be handy, and climbed into Reznick's super-soft bed. Reznick relished the feel of Matt's hard teen body against his own. Matt, on the other hand, was struck with perfect shape of Reznick's thick almost nine inches. "You got about the straightest dick I've ever seen," Matt said, "and about the biggest head." "I think you're beautiful.," his partner replied. "Such a neat T shape for a guy so young." He tasted Matt's hard tool, and massaged it with his practiced lips. "Suck me too, baby," he said. Each pleasured the other's dick in turn, the older man bringing Matt to orgasm and swallowing his seed, while letting Matt know he didn't want to cum before he'd experienced the thrill of penetrating Matt's ass. It was a thrill for both of them. Reznick was gentle but passionate. He forced a second ejaculation from Matt as he vigorously brushed Matt's prostate with his boney spear, and then released a flood of white goo into Matt's colon. They enjoyed the feeling of their bodies relaxing together, and then Reznick withdrew. "That was good, Victor," Matt panted. "That was wonderful," Reznick replied. He wanted to kiss Matt, but had the feeling that the boy wouldn't want him to do that. So he offered Matt the opportunity to shower before dressing again, and told him when he was ready, he could return to the library. Victor pulled a dressing gown over his nakedness and rejoined Spangler. "What d'ya think?" Spangler inquired. "Almost perfect," was the reply. You know, they don't need to act like they've been to finishing school. They just shouldn't be an embarrassment. A little work and you could take him anywhere. And he's just super in bed. "I've thought so." "You notice how he handled dinner. Watched what we were doing and followed through perfectly. Biggest problem I saw was some usages, like `him and me.' That's one of the hardest things to teach. "I had a gofer working for me a while back. Strong as an ox. Could practically pick up a sofa with one hand. Never damaged anything. Good looking. The women just drooled over him. But he couldn't handle pronouns." They continued to discuss Matt like he was a piece of merchandise, until Spangler asked, "So you think we should go on?" "Hell, yes. You see what you can set up. I'll work with Matt. Take him out to some places. Once he knows what you're up to, training will be a whole lot easier." Showered and dressed Matt reappeared. Spangler stood and said, "Well, Victor, thanks for a splendid dinner and great companionship. We'll have to do it again." "I hope so," Reznick responded. Then, "Matt, I hope to see you again really soon." "I hope so too, Victor." Matt would liked to have added, "And I love your dick," but he was a smart kid and was getting the picture real fast. During the twenty minute drive to his house, Spangler quizzed Matt about several things. "You mentioned that your uncle lives with you and your dad." "Yeah, he moved in after my mom left. He's my uncle but he's only four years older than me. Sometimes I tell people he's my cousin." "You and he mess around?" "Uh...huh. Well, I caught him and Dad together one time, and it wasn't long after that that him and me got together. "Oh? You and your dad ever do stuff?" "Once. The night my mom took off. She'd found herself a boyfriend. He'd knocked her up. They ran off together. "Me and dad was both hung up, and the sex just happened. I don't have a problem with it, but he sure as shit does. Talked to me about it just last weekend." Spangler was discovering just enough to formulate a plan. When they reached the house on Wordsworth Drive, Spangler got them both a beer, and he told Matt what he'd had in mind from the first night they met. "Matt," he began, "this is the last night we can sleep together for a while. As you know, my wife's coming back. But I'll call you sometime, and we have an hour or so together. The old "stay late at the office" routine. "But I have another interest in you, and that's why I took you to see Victor tonight." "Well I'd expected we'd have a three-way," Matt interjected. "Maybe one of these days," Spangler replied. "He's one hell of sex machine. "But I wanted him to confirm the feelings I've had about you. And he has. "You remember, I told you people like me can't afford to patronize the street. The risk of being recognized is too great. And yet, many friends of mine here in town, like Victor, would love the company of young men like you. And I have many friends, clients of my companies, who come to town on business and would like to have some fun. There's no way right now. "When I go to New York, Chicago, some other places, I can call on businesses called `escort services.' They provide companions on demand. Not always for sex. A businessman may be invited to a party and needs simply to have a lady at his side. Guys that have inclinations other than I have may want a woman to share his bed. You see where I'm going. You call, get the service you want, pay by credit card. No one's the wiser, and if you're smart about it, it can be tax deductible. "Now not only don't we have an escort service here, but if a businessman from say, New York, comes here and wants to take a boy to dinner before they go on to more fun things, he can't afford to have the boy act like he's never been anyplace but MacDonald's before. Escort services train, or at least screen their people, so their clients will not be embarrassed." "Oh," said Matt. "I see where you're coming from." He had mixed feelings, to say the least. On one hand, he could see opportunity out the ass. On the other, he sort of felt like he was being treated like second hand shit. "I don't expect our town could support a full service escort business, at least not at first," Spangler continued. "Besides, when it comes to sex, escort services have to be very, very careful. I've been thinking that we could start a quiet service restricted to providing fellas like you. And when I first spent the night with you, I felt you had the qualities that such a service would need. You're a remarkable young man, Matt. I really like you and respect you. "Now understand me. I am not interested in adding a boy hustler venture to my business assets. I would be willing to underwrite the startup costs, though. And although not all the boys involved need to be able to negotiate tea at Buckingham Palace, even you are not quite ready to take on some of the clients—I guess you call them `johns'—I have in mind. But I suppose I should stop here and ask if you would be interested. I can guarantee you could double or triple the income you're getting from the street." "Fuckin' aye yes!" Matt cried. "But..." "A big `but,'" Spangler said. "First there has to be someone to run the enterprise. And when you said your father was—shall we say `liberal?'—I thought he might be an ideal candidate. I think you told Victor he was a traveling salesman. Running the service wouldn't be a full time job, at least not at first. So do you think he might be interested? I'd provide what startup help he would need." "We can sure ask him." Matt replied. "Good," Spangler said. He got up to replenish the beer. Matt had gotten drunk once before, but tonight was the most alcohol he'd ever had without getting tipsy. "Second," Spangler continued. "I realize that you've got staying power, but you can't be the only `escort' on call. Do you know any other boys on the street that might do?" "No," Matt answered. "Most of the hustlers I know are in their twenties at least. I'm the youngest down there for sure." "Well, we certainly don't want any prepubescent children," Spangler said. "But..." "My uncle'd do," Matt interrupted. "He's done some hustling. Still does, sometimes. He's good looking, works construction, got a nice dick." "Maybe I can check him out." "And I know a coupla guys from school that mess around. A coupla others that might. One of `em's a doctor's kid. He oughta be fancy enough for ya!" "Oh please don't take offense at anything I may have said, Matt," Spangler quickly said, realizing he had been impolitic. "I've meant only that we want the best for you. And Victor has volunteered to help make that so." They continued to talk and plan. Then they went hand and hand to Spangler's bedroom. Spangler was afraid he was falling in love with this teenaged hustler. He certainly provided the best sex Spangler could remember. And he was a neat kid. Matt awoke the next morning with his dick still in Spangler's ass. - - - - - - Feedback is important, pro or con. Please let me hear from you. macoutmann@yahoo.com Copyright 2011 by Macout Mann. All rights reserved.