Date: Tue, 16 Mar 2021 01:23:10 +0000 From: Vance Von Jungsburg Subject: The Ambrosia Effect (Gay/Adult-Youth) The following story is fictional. None of the events or characters are real. Please do not read it if you are under 18 or if the content is illegal in your jurisdiction. If you liked the story or want to comment about it or anything else, contact me at vereinington@protonmail.com. Your feedback is my only reward for writing these stories. Please check out my other stories in the prolific authors section under Vance Von Jungsburg. Nifty needs your donations to provide this valuable platform http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html Thanks, Vance. THE AMBROSIA EFFECT by Vance Von Jungsburg I looked through the expanse of glass that made up two entire walls of my office. Central Park, 75 floors below, was now a patchwork of deep greens and purples this late spring afternoon. I'd been tired and listless most of the day, but Noah had just nutted down my throat and I was feeling energized and unrestricted. I decided I'd wait until after the markets closed to look at the numbers, then place some after hours trades. If the commodities I'd be buying and selling tonight didn't increase my investment by 20% over the next month, I'd be surprised and disappointed. I was currently experiencing the euphoric feeling I called the ambrosia effect. I'd felt this way many times over the past twenty years as I built my fortune. It was a mixture of supreme confidence in my abilities and a sense of awareness that allowed me to see patterns and roadmaps when I looked at data. Scanning the numbers on the Dow Jones was like looking at a treasure map - I could see a clearly defined dotted line which led to a big red X. That big red X was literally treasure; if I followed the course and made the trades along the path, my net worth always took a big jump. "Hey, Keith!" I heard Noah's echoing voice calling from the shower in my private apartment. "I can't find my special soap." Noah's "special soap" was an anti-acne face wash. It must have been effective because the 13-year-old's skin was blemish free. I texted Tyler, my personal assistant: Where's Noah's Proactiv soap? 45 seconds later Tyler knocked on my office door, then let himself in with his RFID card. He was holding a tube of Proactiv. I nodded toward my quarters and he disappeared through the doorway. After several minutes Tyler reappeared in my office. His hair was wet, dripping down his collar and dampening the shoulders of his Tom Ford dress shirt. "I couldn't resist," he said, trying to suppress a smile. I looked at him. Tyler was a fit 27-year-old with dark curly hair and an attractive, boyish face. I was able to read that face like a memo. "You ate his ass, right? And he let you cum on his face." "God, it creeps me out sometimes that you can do that," Tyler replied. He was talking about my ability to look at a face and determine the thoughts behind it. The subtle tension and relaxation of specific facial muscles, the slight reddening or blanching of small areas of skin on the forehead and cheeks, the changing angle of the mouth and eyes - all of those could be deciphered and translated into the thoughts and mental images of the person I was looking at. It was a talent I'd first become aware of as a child. I'd practiced and honed the ability until it became one of my most useful tools. "By the way," Tyler said. "Noah's got a Lacrosse game on Thursday. I got Luke to cover for him." I felt a spark of excitement in my stomach. Noah was solid and dependable, always arriving at my office with a noticeable bulge in his trousers. Like most 13-year-olds, he was easy to get off. But Luke was unpredictable. At times, he could be moody and lethargic, requiring a significant amount of effort and time to get in the mood. At other times he was ravenous, overflowing with the intense sexual energy that could only be found in an adolescent with newly sprouted pubes. I thought back to our last meeting, when Luke had insisted on impaling himself on my significant erection as I lay in bed on my back. He did all the work, thrusting his body up and down and manipulating his position to give himself maximal pleasure. The visual image of the skinny tween's body bobbing up and down on my shaft as his hard cock bounced to the rhythm was unparalleled; I looked in his face as his dark bangs flopped in time to his movements, and saw the pure, unadulterated carnality he was experiencing. It was too much - I erupted up his ass in wave after wave of pleasure. That set Luke off. Without even a touch, his rigid boy pole deposited his thin boy seed on my stomach and chest, jerking up and down as it spewed. "I know, I know," he said. The boy leaned forward and scooped his semen up like an old lady cleaning up spilled bird seed. Luke held his cupped palm to my mouth and I ingested the precious elixir. I felt it coursing down my throat, warm and glowing with power. My blood began to feel like melted butter, rich and sustaining. My cock, which was still up Luke's ass, began to harden again. But the boy wouldn't have it. He'd cum, and was now feeling the weary post coital epilogue of our love making. He pulled off and went into the bathroom. I looked at my Patek Phillipe watch. I had a meeting with a private equity firm in half an hour. The euphoria and vitality I was experiencing would assist me in the negotiations, allowing me to walk away from the meeting with significant concessions from the company. But at this moment my body couldn't contain the energy being generated deep inside my thorax. I began a series of Jiu Jitsu moves, punching and kicking the air with deliberate and graceful precision. Luke came out of the bathroom and watched, standing naked in the doorway. "You gotta teach me some of that stuff sometime," he said. I looked at the 12-year-old. His thin body was just beginning to show the signs of the teen musculature he would develop over the next couple couple years. Dark thick hair hung over his forehead, almost obscuring his sapphire blue eyes. "Yes, that's a good idea," I told the boy. I knew it wouldn't happen. Empowered by the magic ambrosia Luke had supplied to me, my negotiations later that day had gone better than I expected. I'd walked out of the meeting 22 million dollars richer, at least on paper. I thought of my session with Luke as "The 22 Million Dollar Fuck." I was shaken out of my daydream by Noah calling my name. "Keith?" I looked up at the boy. His hair was wet from the shower but there was no sign that Tyler had coated his face with semen. "Thank you. I'm going back to my apartment," Noah said. I admired the way his tan trousers showed off his rounded buttocks as he slipped out my office door. Noah and his mother lived in a large apartment on the 50th floor of my building. I owned the apartment. They were both on my payroll. To most people who knew me, my life appeared to be ideal, almost to the point of implausibility. At 38-years-old, I was young for someone to have a portfolio worth billions of dollars. My looks and physique were exquisite. My 6' 4" frame carried a sculpted musculature and my attractive, symmetrical face looked like that of someone in his late twenties. But I owed it all to the ambrosia I'd been consuming since I was a ten-year-old. My wealth, charisma and physical perfection had been built upon the creamy emissions of young boys' bodies. I had the ardent belief that each human life consisted of luck and misfortune, ease and adversity, bliss and agony, all balanced against each other to form a perfect stasis. Those who experienced the highest highs had to endure the lowest lows, and my lows were chasmic. My life was an unending quest for ambrosia; without the seed of a pubescent boy I became weak, inert, and fell into a deep depression. I was like a vampire, dependent on the life force of others to thrive. And the source of my power was seen as the most depraved, malignant and disgusting act a human being could commit. I'd designed and built my life to achieve my goal - the billions of dollars were simply a means to acquiring the nectar I needed to flourish. But having billions wasn't a sure defense against discovery and takedown. Jeff Epstein's billions hadn't protected him, and his proclivity was 15 and 16-year-old girls. Those girls were at that age when fathers since the dawn of time had married them off to older men. In the 20th century the arbitrary age of 18 was designated as the age of adulthood, forcing millions of men to suppress their desire for teenage pussy. I'd known Jeff socially, and was sorry to see him taken down. "Pedophile Jeffrey Epstein" became his new name, one he had to bear until other powerful men who'd partaken in the same delicacies had him assassinated. I had imagined many times the catastrophe that awaited me if my secrets were exposed. I'd been working on an exit plan for the past five years. Aided by my assistant Tyler and my longtime secretary Laurie, I was buying up islands in an archipelago near Vanuatu and setting up a corporate retreat which was granted a level of sovereignty by the Vanuatu government in exchange for huge quantities of American dollars. This would a place I could escape to if it all came tumbling down. My billions in foreign banks would allow me to live a comfortable, though hermetically sealed life. And with that money, arrangements could be made to keep me supplied with young lovers. Tyler, whose ardor for young teen cock was almost as strong as mine, had a good reason to be involved in the plan - if I went down, he went down, though our agreement was that he'd attempt to take the fall and protect me if any legal trouble came my way. My secretary Laurie had been with me since the beginning, when I set up my first little office in Colorado Springs. I took a chance on her. She was a recovering addict and alcoholic in her forties, a friend of my parents, but she'd had experience as an executive secretary. She'd discovered my secret early, but the trust and loyalty I'd shown to her was enough to overcome her initial distaste for my proclivities. Over time she'd seen that I didn't hurt the boys - it was the opposite. Most of the boys who'd been with me went on to follow successful and accomplished paths. It was partly from being exposed to my attitude and work ethic, and partly from being exposed to the aura that encompassed my body as I experienced the ambrosia effect - it literally rubbed off on them as we made love. The seed of their loins, once planted inside me, would grow instantly into a burst of dynamic energy which leeched into the bodies of the boys as well. *** On Thursday afternoon I fidgeted as I sat at my desk, waiting for 12-year-old Luke to arrive. I hadn't sucked boy cock since my Monday date with Noah and was beginning to feel the withdrawal effects . I should have been reading contracts but was too mentally scattered. I watched a boys' diving competition on Youtube and waited until 4:00 when Luke would arrive. Bleep. My iPad chirped with a message from Laurie: He's here, but it's not Luke. I typed: ? Laurie: He's already on his way in. I heard a gentle knocking on my office door, and felt something I wasn't used to: uncertainty. I touched a button on my iPad screen and my office door opened. The boy stepped in. I felt my breath catch in my throat and my heart get louder and faster. The kid was stunning. He looked to be 11 or 12, standing on the precipice of adolescence but still imbued with plenty of boyish charm. His chestnut brown hair was a little unkempt, falling over his ears and face in a manner that showed a casual indifference to his appearance. But his most striking feature was his large green eyes ringed with dark lashes. "Look at that view!" he said with gusto as he rushed to the windows looking north to the park. He turned to me. "That's your name on the top of this building, right?" He pointed upwards. "Yes... it is." I was caught off guard by the boy's enthusiasm and geniality. "And who are you?" "I'm Alfie." He stepped toward me and held out his hand. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Sullivan." After we shook he plopped down on one of the Barcelona chairs facing my large mahogany desk, with one leg over the side of the chair. "I'm a friend of Luke's from Dalton," he explained. Dalton was one of the finest private day schools in Manhattan. I didn't know what to say. Was he here for a blowjob? I couldn't just ask him. Alfie looked at me directly in the eyes for a few seconds. "Luke and me are friends... like, really good friends." He paused. "He told me about the magic sex stuff you do." I felt my face flush. "What did Luke say?" I asked, trying to remain cautious. Normally Tyler vetted all my boys, prepping and coaching them, and excluded the ones who weren't ready or willing to be with me. "He said you would suck him and when he shot sperm in your mouth it was like a magic potion that gave you superpowers," Alfie recounted. "I want to see it. Me and Luke have fooled around. I'm experienced." I looked at the boy's face, trying to determine what was going on in his head. Kids are harder to read than adults - their smooth unlined faces obscure their thoughts. But Alfie's face matched his words. I felt he was being truthful. Feeling horny and ambrosia-hungry, and being reassured by reading his face, I relented. "Well, let's go to my room," I said. Once inside my bedroom the boy began a seductive strip tease, undulating his body as he pulled off his D & G hoodie. "Will you sing a song?" the boy asked. "A strip tease song?" Again I was caught off guard, something that rarely happened to me. My mind went blank - the silence as the boy awaited my song was like the vacuum of space. I sang the first thing that popped into my head. "I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want So tell me what you want, what you really, really want" The boy smiled and unlaced his spotless white sneakers. "I wanna, ha, I wanna, ha, I wanna, ha, I wanna, ha, I wanna really, really, really wanna" Alfie pulled off his white t-shirt, then unbuttoned his pale green trousers and pulled them down, grinding his hips. "If you want my future, forget my past If you wanna get with me, better make it fast" The boy was now dancing with his back to me clad only in white socks and baby blue boxer briefs. The flawless skin of his back was was a light golden brown, as if he'd taken advantage of the sunny May days we'd had last week. The globes of his ass pulsed up and down to the rhythm of the song, their shape clearly visible through the tight fabric of his underwear. "Now don't go wasting my precious time Get your act together we could be just fine" Alfie turned around and faced me. The front of his boxer briefs was tented out. A small wet spot was visible at the apex of his tent pole, dark blue against the light blue cotton fabric. I gasped and stopped singing. The crotch of my slim-fit Gucci trousers felt two sizes too small. "Get naked," the boy commanded, still swaying despite the lack of music. He moved toward me. I loosened my belt and dropped my trousers, then struggled to get them off over my Louboutin oxfords. I felt giddy and awkward, like a sixteen year old boy who was about to score with his girlfriend for the first time on prom night. Alfie reached for my shirt and started undoing buttons but I pulled the shirt open like Superman, scattering buttons across the terrazzo floor. We stood facing each other in our tented underwear. My eyes couldn't get enough of this boy's perfect body standing two feet in front of me. I wanted to memorize every curve and plane of his immaculate form, to sear the visual image into my brain should I never see him again. "I like your muscles," the boy said. Then he stuck his fingers into the waistband of his boxer briefs at each hip and pulled down. Alfie's erection sprang out like a diving board after a swimmer had just jumped into a pool. It was arrow-straight and pointed slightly upward, nested between a taut, brimming ball sack and a tiny swathe of hairs on his lower abdomen. They looked like they must have sprouted around the same time the March daffodils were budding in Central Park. At that moment Alfie's cock became the center of my awareness, as if everything around me formed a narrowing tunnel which led directly to his crotch. I pulled him onto the bed and swooped in to engulf his rigid boyhood in my mouth. I felt like a man who hadn't eaten in a week would when experiencing his first bite of filet mignon. The size, shape and taste of his cock seemed tailor-made for my mouth, fitting it like the final piece of a jigsaw puzzle. I'd sucked hundreds of boycocks in my life, and knew that this one was special. Employing the techniques I'd honed from my decades of fellatory experience, I intended to transmit maximal pleasure to Alfie, directing it through the millions of nerve endings in his penis, up his spinal cord, and straight into his brain. The boy writhed on the bed, grinding his mid-section and thrusting deeper, deeper down my throat. He ran his fingers through my hair and whispered quiet, sexy words. "Suck it, Yes! So deep. So deep!" I was so turned on by this willing, libidinous boy that I felt like I could have cum if my hand accidentally brushed my cock. I sensed the gathering energy in Alfie's body, traversing his bones and muscles on its way to his groin, building up like a charging battery. "It's here," the boy whispered. Alfie's abdomen stiffened and his butt pushed off my bed, thrusting his cock deep into the back of my mouth. I felt it pulse, then deliver. Surge after surge of warm, thin nectar spilled down my throat. My eyes filled with white light and my skin felt flashes of searing heat as I experienced the most intense ambrosia effect of my life. At once I was standing on the roof of the 75 story building which bore my name looking over a city which I knew I could bend to my will. I felt that if I directed my powers at the Chrysler Building, I could send it flying into space like a rocket ship . And then I was back in bed with Alfie, who was lying on his side, looking at me with his intense green eyes. "You didn't cum," he said. He touched my cock through my stretch silk briefs and stroked it, slow and gentle like a boy might pet a mouse. "You can cum in my butt." I was hit with two strong bursts of awareness at that moment - the knowledge that I had to have my cock up Alfie's ass, and the sense that it was all too perfect. Everything about this boy, his looks, his personality, his carnal desires, seemed designed to beguile me, as if he had been created in a laboratory based on my preferences and desires. Alfie pulled at the waist band of my briefs and I let my cock loose. "I knew it would be big," the kid said. He was right. Topping a little over 8 inches, my size was almost certainly a side-effect of the ambrosia I consumed. Alfie reached over me and opened a drawer in the bedside table, then pulled out a tube of Astroglide lube. "It's always in the drawer next to the bed," he said with a hint of triumph in his voice. "Have you been fucked before?" I asked. "Luke fucked me. And this kid who's a senior. Kushner." The boy opened the tube and coated my erection, traversing my length with his warm, thin fingers. Dropping the tube on the bed, he lay down on his back and pulled his legs up. I noticed he was still wearing his white socks, which stood out against the smooth tan of his shins. I lubed up my index finger and touched his rosebud. Alfie closed his eyes and gasped. His lips curled up into a smile. I poked and probed a little, My finger entered him with ease. "Stop messing around - just put your dick in," the boy commanded. I felt like a corporal who had just received orders from a general. Positioning my body between Alfie's upraised legs, I grasped my cock and guided it into the boy's hole. I gave it a little pressure and then it was in, halfway, then all the way. Alfie's ass had been easy to breach, but once I was in it was tight and hot. Alfie's cock, which had been lying prone, began to harden. "I'm going to get seconds," I thought to myself. I began a gentle rhythmic thrusting and increased my speed and intensity. I looked at the boy beneath me, his legs drawn up and his eyes wide open, looking at me, at my body, at my face, I stared at him to get his thoughts and received a blast of images and words: "Pure... on a mountain and deep inside...billions and billions...such a big cock in me...love energy...so, so hot." Alfie's ass transmitted waves of pleasure down the length of my cock, almost as if it were sucking, stroking, manipulating my erection from deep inside his abdomen. I felt sparkling molecules of rapture throughout my body collecting and flowing through my bloodstream toward my groin, coalescing and forming the substance which I would soon eject into his body. Liquid mercury pooled at my loins, rich and fortified with the elemental substances that sustain life. I tried to hold on, to the let the bliss accumulate and build up until I could hold it no longer. And then, like a dam bursting through a fissure during an earthquake, my semen shot deep into the boy in waves of intensity. Alfie's own cock jerked up and down, then spewed thin streams of pearlescent liquid toward his upper body and face. Overcome with exhaustion, I fell onto Alfie. The small pools of semen on his chest were detectable through my skin - I could feel the magic force in it dissipating as it cooled. Our lovemaking had consumed massive quantities of energy, and I felt spent, like a smoking machine gun that was out of bullets. I pulled out of Alfie and lay down next to him, admiring the flawless form lying prone next to me, naked except for a pair of clean white socks. I felt satisfied and content, and tried to remember when I'd last been this relaxed. It had been years. I felt serene, so serene... I woke with a start, disoriented and hazy. I looked at my phone and was surprised that I'd slept so long. My usual night consisted of five or six hours of sleep but I'd been out for... how long? I calculated 12 hours. Alfie was gone. My clothes were folded with care and placed on a chair in the room. I felt ravenous, so I texted the chef and ordered eggs florentine and coffee. My normal morning routine was to check e-mail before breakfast, looking over report memos, market summaries and transaction records. I scrolled through the messages and saw a notice of a wire transfer from my personal account. Ten million dollars had been wired to a bank in Panama. I phoned my secretary. "Laurie, what's this transfer for ten million about?" "That's the one you asked me to make last night - you called me at home. You gave me the code..." I could hear the puzzlement in her voice. "Oh, right. I'm still a little groggy," I lied. I spent the morning digging, trying to determine why and where the money went, but kept losing track of my thoughts. I felt horny and cum hungry. I finally reached the receiving bank. They informed me the money had been wired to an account belonging to an A. F. Greene but wouldn't tell me more. I called a connection in Panama and pressed, and finally had my answer. "It's a college savings account," Martinez said. I could hear the befuddlement in his voice. "It belongs to... Alfie Ford Greene of New York, NY." I held myself together long enough to thank Martinez, then fell back into my chair. Alfie. He'd drugged me or hypnotized me. I resigned myself to the situation. It was a lesson. A ten million dollar lesson. That fuck last night had cost me. But.. I couldn't help but feel like it was worth it. I texted my assistant Tyler: Luke sent a friend in his place yesterday. Alfie Greene. Please get me his contact information. Tyler texted me back 15 minutes later with Alfie's address, e-mail and cell number. I dialed the boy. The phone rang for 40 seconds and finally Alfie picked up. "Keith...?" "Alfie," I said. "You're a clever boy." There was a moment of silence, then Alfie said "You gave me that money. You don't remember, but you did." "I'm not calling you to get the money back," I explained. The truth was, I didn't know why I had called the boy. Hearing his voice was giving me a hardon. "So you're not mad?" he asked. "No. Surprised. Even a little impressed," I answered. "So..." Alfie said just above a whisper, "you wanna hang out?" "I do." The answer was out of my mouth before I even had time to formulate the thought. *****' Epilogue: Five years later I think of it as an exile, though I went voluntarily. I spend my days walking the beaches of this island south of Vanuatu. It is an island I once owned, and the little villa I built on it is still in good shape. Like any drug, the withdrawals from Ambrosia were merciless, but once I was over the hump, I was able to rebuild my psyche. It was kind of Alfie to allow me to live here. When I had asked Alfie all those years ago if he'd ever been fucked, he told me that Luke and a senior at his school had fucked him. But it was a lie of omission. By the time the precocious 12-year-old visited me he'd already been fucked by six powerful men: corporate CEOs, billionaire hedge fund owners, tech moguls. With each new lover, Alfie had collected wealth and power in the same way the seed of adolescent boys gave me torrents of energy and ability. The boy had stumbled upon this magic strength when one of his father's friends had seduced him at eleven years old, depositing a load of robust billionaire spunk into his virgin ass. Since then, the addictive sex offered by Alfie left men powerless to say no, powerless to deny him anything he wanted until they had no more to give. Over the past five years a privately held company has accrued massive wealth and become the most highly valued corporation on the planet. Because it's a private company, it is allowed to operate with little transparency. My old assistant Tyler works for the corporation, as does my old secretary Laurie. Dozens of executives have abandoned their former companies to go to work for this new entity, but even they have little information about who their boss is. But I know. END Note: If you're interested in reading about the protagonist of this story as a boy, and the first time he tasted ambrosia, I've written a story called "Ambrosia" in Gay/Young-Friends.