The Boy on the Table

By Stephen Scott

Copyright, 2006 by Stephen Scott. All rights reserved. Permission is granted to Nifty Archives, to archive and display this work. All other uses are expressly forbidden unless explicit arrangement has been made with the author. This work may not be reproduced, posted, stored electronically, or archived, except for personal, non-public use, without the express written permission of the author.

I have a number of stories posted in the Nifty Archive

Encounters: The Bellhop and the Movie Star and Straight Boy Cody for Cash

Adult Youth: Fourth of July Fireworks, Bicycle Butt, The Pool Cleaner's New Gig and The Chicken Run (3 parts)

Young Friends: After the Fireworks (Sequel to Fourth of July Fireworks)

Authoritarian: Number Twelve, His Private Stockade, Hustling a Hustler and All I Want for Christmas

Beginnings: The Boy in the Alley and Playground Games

Incest: Stress Relief and Brother's Bad Report Card

Science Fiction or Fantasy: Lije Bailey's Perfect Love, Parts I & II

You can also read some true encounters on my blog:

Also some remembrances of boys I loved when I was young on my personal site: (Look under "Biography")

If you'd like to keep up with my stories as I post them, go to:

If you enjoy this story or any of my other stories, please drop me a line at (And a no-prize if you recognize that name!)

The Boy on the Table

By Stephen Scott

"Excuse me--sir?"

I turned around at the sound of the voice. It was young.

The boy stood in the doorway, wearing only a white towel below his slender belly.

I smiled to myself. Once in a while Joe, the manager, lets a cute teenager he knows is underage in the door. He doesn't do it often--we walk a thin line with the vice boys. They look the other way as long as they get their palms greased, but if they found out we trafficked in chicken we'd lose our license. And that would be the least of it.

My attitude about the whole thing is, live and let live. If any kid walks into this joint, he knows what he's getting into. This is a massage parlor, not the local mall. If some pretty boy wants his cherry popped, that's his business. And if he wants me to pop it for him, so much the better for both of us. Normally I like men, not boys. I've never put the moves on a teenager, and I never will. Guys who prey on kids make my skin crawl. But if a teenager puts the moves on me, or makes out he wants more than a good massage, all bets are off.

Now, curiously enough, if a boy comes in looking for women, Joe turns him out. But if the kid wants a man, Joe might let him stay. And Joe is the furthest thing from gay. Partly, I think, he does this because he doesn't want this place to get the reputation as a brothel for horny straight kids. One teenager gets laid by a masseuse, you can lay even odds he's going to shoot off his mouth to every other kid he runs into, and the next thing you know we lose our license. A gay kid, or one that's just curious, isn't going to tell anyone anything. He's going to keep what happens in my office a secret. Also, Joe's known me for years, man and boy. He knows I'm gentle, considerate and that I never, ever let things get out of hand. I don't push myself on any client. Never have, never will.

I'm the single male masseur in the joint. The others are all masseuses. One lesbian, the rest hetero. Most of the guys who come in here want a woman. But Joe keeps me on for a few very good reasons. For one thing, gay guys do come in. Not as many as straights, but enough so I'm kept fairly busy. A few regular customers. Plus a whole lot of "straight" guys are curious, and the massage is perfect for them; if they get nervous and decide to bail out at the last minute, I just finish their massage and nothing more is said about it. Not that it happens very often. My experience has been if a guy says he's "straight but curious," he's not going to leave until his curiosity is satisfied. If you're giving some hot guy a hand-job or sucking him off, chances are he's not going to jump off the table and run until he gets what he came in for.

Occasionally a woman comes in and wants the works. I give it to her. I prefer guys, but if a girl's hot to trot, so be it. I'm not really into it, but I can act, and I can fantasize. And sometimes a guy really just wants a good massage from another man. Maybe he's shy about going to one of the women. Maybe he's worried about his cock size, maybe he's sexist and doesn't trust a woman to give a good massage, or maybe the women are all with clients and he just doesn't care who rubs the kinks out of his muscles. I don't ask. Like I said, I never make the first move--ever.

Joe's as open-minded as I am. He doesn't give a fuck what lights your candle as long as he gets his 10 percent off the top. That's the way it works: the client comes in, and rents a locker key from Joe. The guy goes into the locker room, undresses, puts his clothes in the locker, showers, dries off, wraps a towel around his waist, and gives the key back to Joe. If he comes to me I start the massage and see where it goes. If interest is indicated beyond just loosening the muscles, the client and I negotiate. I tell Joe the figure and he takes it out of the guy's locker. Sound policy. Joe's more honest than most cops are. Plus it just wouldn't be logical for him to rip a client off. Bad for business. Bad for everyone.

So when I first saw the kid I just took it in stride. I've had lots of horny young virgins. This was just the first stage in a program I knew very, very well.

I took the kid in quickly. He had a cute, all-American face: dark brown hair, small pointed nose, hazel eyes shining with anxiety. He was small, maybe 5' 4", and thin. Yeah, I thought. Sixteen if he's a day.

The boy's chest was nearly hairless but defined, and he had nice muscle tone on his arms and legs. It didn't take much effort to see that his towel poked out at the crotch. I'd see if I couldn't make this live up to his fantasy.

I looked him square in the eye and feigned a boredom I didn't feel--not with a kid this cute half-naked in front of me.


He cleared his throat.

"Is this the right room for a massage?"

I laughed and gestured to my white trousers and T-shirt.

"No, son--I dress like this for my own amusement. What do you think?"

He blushed and came inside the room, shutting the door behind him.

"Hoist yourself up on the table there and lie face down, on your belly," I said. Then I went to the door and locked it.

When I turned around, he was just lying down. The towel was still wrapped around his waist, one end tucked in behind his back. I smiled briefly. Shy.

With my eyes I traced the slow rise from his lower back to his rump beneath the towel. The kid had a nice little butt. Round and boyish. I was looking forward to working on it.

I reached for my bottle of oil and stood next to the table. The kid was shaking, and staring straight ahead. I oiled up my hands and began to massage his shoulders. He was tense as hell, but after a few minutes I could feel him beginning to relax. I moved to his neck and worked on it for a bit. His pulse was still racing but he was getting calmer. Practiced and steady, I re-oiled my hands and began to work on his spine. The more I rubbed and kneaded, the more relaxed he became.

More oil, and I started on his calves. Now he tensed again, but I worked efficiently and without a word. When I began to massage his feet, he squirmed.


"A--a little, yeah."

You ain't felt nothin' yet, kid, I thought.

I wiped my hands clean and with one swipe swiftly undid the towel, spreading it open. The boy gasped as the cloth fell away, exposing his naked backside. His smooth, firm butt-cheeks lay quivering beneath my gaze. I already knew he was self-conscious about being naked in front of me, and the way his glutes clenched confirmed it. I took a moment to drink them in. They were cute as hell: soft and rounded, yet tight, muscled. Slight wisps of dark hair curled up toward them from his crotch. I could see his nearly hairless nuts lying on the table beneath him; the ballsac was tight. His cock was tucked under his belly. I bet it was stiff.

I oiled up his thighs and began to massage them. He was lean and pliable, and from the way he reacted when I handled his legs I could tell he was really getting turned-on. But his ass was still clamped tight.

I smacked his butt with my hand, and he yelped in surprise.

"Relax, kid," I laughed. "You're breaking my fingers."

I felt his leg muscles loosen some then, and his buttocks parted slightly. Not enough to expose the anus, but much more relaxed. There was an oily, slightly pink handprint on them where I'd spanked him. It turned me on.

When I finished with his thighs I squirted oil up and down his ass and went to work. I watched his body react to the stimulation. His breathing increased and each time I kneaded his cute butt-cakes he made quiet little grunting sounds.

This is one part of my job I love, especially if the guy has a cute ass. And this kid's butt was beautiful. I lovingly went to work, massaging each cheek from the base of his spine to the tops of his thighs, making sure a liberal amount of oil made its way into his ass-crack. The whole time, the kid was bleating softly and sort of pushing his butt up. If he was enjoying this half as much as I was, he was definitely getting his money's worth.

First I traced my finger along the line of his hairless perineum, caressing it and pushing down slightly in the region of his prostate. He gasped and his body jumped a bit. Then I parted his cheeks with my hands and watched as his little pink butthole twitched. I kept my fingers busy on the inside of his cheeks but deliberately avoided touching his pucker. By the time I'd finished he was oiled from neck to toes. As he lay there, shiny and sweating, I drank him in with pleasure. My cock was rock-hard in my pants. I wasn't sure how much more of my own teasing I could take.

"Roll over, kid," I said calmly.

I felt anything but calm.

He hesitated, and I knew why.

"Yours won't be the first one I've seen today."


"If I had a nickel for every hard-on I've seen during a massage, I could retire to Miami Beach right now instead of waiting 35 years," I said, smiling to myself.

He slowly turned onto his back. As I had suspected, his young dick was fully erect. It twitched at a leftward angel above his belly, thumping as the blood pulsed in the shaft. His face was scarlet with embarrassment and he had his eyes shut, so I was free to gaze at his naked crotch in appreciation.

The hard cock was about average in length and dimension for a boy his age. I guessed it was maybe 5 inches erect. The head was generous, mushroom-shaped, and thumped up and down. The shaft arced toward his belly, listing to the left. A thick bush of dark brown, wavy hair gathered around its base and his nutsac was tight up against his crotch. The balls looked fairly large.

"Relax, kid." I purred, oiling my hands again. "You got nothing to be ashamed of. It's a nice cock."

I let that sink in as I started on his feet. When I finished, I worked on his calves again. Without looking back, I knew he was getting more excited by the minute. When you're really into a massage there's nothing more relaxing. But when you come in looking for sex as this kid had, a stranger touching your naked flesh is anything but soothing; it can send you climbing the walls. And this boy was definitely about halfway up the panels. I was going to have him on the ceiling before much longer.

Turning back toward him, I moved up to his legs. Now I was able to take a longer look at his crotch. I noticed a driblet of semen squeezing slowly out the tip of his throbbing cock. Saying nothing, I oiled up again and began to massage his legs. The more I manipulated them, the harder his dick grew. The drop of pre-cum slipped out and ran down the head. My own cock was poking out painfully in my pants. But I wasn't rushing this. I wanted him hotted up to the max.

When I finished with his thighs I massaged his arms. He was breathing hard, and his eyes were clamped tightly. I squirted some oil on his chest, and his eyes popped open. His nipples were hard, and when I began to work on his pectorals, his eyes closed once more. He had smooth skin, just a little bit of soft brown hair on his chest and around the nipples, and massaging them was like playing with silk.

I finished with his chest and moved back down to his legs. I lifted his left thigh and began to bend it open and closed. Then his right. Then I did the same for his arms.

Done, I dropped his leg and moved away from the table.

"Okay, kid."

His eyes opened slowly and he looked up, confused.

"You're done."

He swallowed. His cock was so hard the glistening cum at the head had become a slow, leaking bubble.


"That's it, kid. I'm finished." I paused for effect. "Was there something else you wanted?"

He swallowed again.

"But the guy outside--"

"I don't care about the guy outside. I'm done. Unless there's something else you want."

"I--I thought you were gonna--I mean--"

"What? Jack your hard-on for you?"

He blushed again.

"No! Well, I mean, not exactly--"

I walked back to the table and grabbed his erection in my oily hand. He gasped and his body flinched in pleasure and surprise. Done stringing him along, I recited the litany.

"Jack-off's five bucks."

I began to move my hand up and down the shaft, slowly.

"You want it sucked, it's fifteen."

I pinched the head of his cock between my thumb and forefinger. He flinched, gasping.

"Shall I go on?"

He nodded, still nervous, but turned on enough his hips were moving involuntarily. I let go of his dick and slipped my hands between his oily buttocks.

"Finger-fuck's another five."

I paused, working my index finger between his cheeks and tracing them.


He nodded again, and let out a little groan.

"Butt-fuck's twenty-five. What do you want?"

He swallowed again.

"All of it," he whispered.

I removed my hands from his buns and leaned over him.

"The works, an even fifty."

I pressed my mouth on his and kissed his lips. When I broke the kiss and stood back, he looked up at me, astonished.

"Kisses are free," I smiled.

"My--my money's--"

"In your locker, yeah, I know."

I wiped my hand off on a towel and picked up the telephone.

"Joe? No appointments for a while. The works. Right. The usual place."

I hung up and whipped my smock off over my head. The kid stared at my chest.

"You tell me when to stop and what you want next, all right? We take this at your pace, not mine."

He nodded. His eyes looked slightly glazed--alert, scared but blinded by sexual need.

There was a soft knock at the door.

"How much money you got on you?" I asked.

"A--a hundred. In tens and twenties."


I opened the door a crack. Joe handed me my cut--forty bucks.

"The kid says he's got another fifty. Make sure he gets it back."

Joe shrugged and I closed the door again. That last statement was just the kid's benefit. For show. Like I said before, Joe's no thief.

I pulled my high stool up to the table and spoke softly to the kid.

"What can I call you, son?" I asked the boy.

He hesitated.

"You don't have to give your real name. Just something I can call you instead of saying `kid' all the time."

He licked his dry lips and tried to speak manfully, but it came out nervous anyway.

"Tim. Call me Tim. It's my name."

"Okay, Tim. My name's Carl. Now we know each other. So, tell me: you ever made it with a guy before?"

He shook his head no.

"But you want to."


The word came out a shuddering sigh. Admitting it seemed to be a huge relief to him. I bet he'd never said it to anyone before.

"Ever been with another guy? Touched each other? Kissed, or jacked off together?"

"No. I--I mean, I've wanted to. Lots. With one of my friends. But--"

He broke off and I finished the sentence for him.

"You were afraid he'd call you a fag, right?"

Tim nodded. I went into my patented spiel for first-timers.

"Okay. Now, this is just between us. No one ever has to know what happened here today. We don't ask to be made one way or another. Gay is no better and no worse than straight. It just is. I like guys, you like guys. So you're safe with me. I don't go around telling people about the guys who come in here. And I don't call the shots. You do. Do you understand? Nothing happens that you don't want to happen. I don't get off on forcing a guy to do anything he's afraid to do. I believe in pleasure, not pain. I'm going to go slowly, and when there's something I think is important for you to know, I'll explain it, okay?"


I'd been watching him intently the whole time. His breathing had become less labored, he wasn't shaking any longer, and his cock, while still aroused, had softened a bit. I supposed he was as relaxed as he was going to be.

I leaned over the table and lifted his semi-hard cock from his belly. He shuddered. I enjoyed the feel of it, a live thing, in my hand. Closing my fist on the shaft, I drew my palm up and down its length, slowly. He lay back and closed his eyes. I fingered the head, squeezing it between thumb and forefinger just below the crown. Then I moved my hand down to the shaft again, rubbing up and down, slowly at first, then gaining momentum. His prick was responding to my touch and in a few moments was as hard as it had been before.

"Cocks come in all shapes and sizes," I said. "I like yours. It fits my hand."

I meant it. Tim had a lovely cock.

I rubbed my forefinger slowly along the underside of the boy's well-formed prick-head.

"This is the most sensitive part of your dick," I explained. "This fold of skin, where the head meets the shaft. If you want, you can cum just by caressing it."

He responded by writhing slowly on the table.

"You ever use anything besides your hand when you jack off? Crisco, baby oil, Vaseline?"

He groped for words through his state of arousal.

"No," he gasped.

"You're missing half the fun," I said. I let go of his dick and grabbed the oil. Squeezing a liberal amount in my palm, I took hold of his erection again and slowly caressed the lubricant onto his shaft, moving around it, coating it thoroughly.

"Feel good?"

"Unnhh!" he grimaced. Then added--redundantly, I thought--"Yeah!"

I squirted more oil onto his cockhead and encircled it with my palm, rubbing it until it glistened. I squeezed the head and he groaned. I gripped his cock-flesh tightly and pumped up and down from tip to base and back again. His hips began to buck upwards. I noticed a drop of semen oozing out of his piss-slit. His body tensed, his legs rose up and straightened out, his feet stretched and his toes curled. His breathing became labored again. His back arched. The head of his cock began to leak pre-cum. His balls drew up. He was ready to cum. I wondered if he'd do it, or hold back for later.

"Stop!" he hissed suddenly, between clenched teeth.

I let go and he relaxed. He lay like that for a few moments, recovering.

"You ready for me to suck it?" I asked.

"Y--yes," he gasped.

I went to the sink and ran warm water over a towel. Then I picked up a dry one, drew up a tall stool and sat down beside him. When I touched the soft, warm fabric to his privates he took in a sharp breath, then relaxed. I gently washed the oil from his cock and balls, then carefully dried them again before tossing the towels into the sink. The feel of the moist, soft cotton towel made him push his cock toward me as I cleansed it.

"Sucking another guy's cock is the most intimate thing you'll ever do," I said, then remembered something and chuckled. "Well, the second most intimate. Some guys think a blowjob the ultimate turn-on. So don't hold back. If you want to cum in my mouth, do it. Don't be afraid. You ready?"

He nodded his head, eyes shut in delight.

Lifting his cock off his belly again, I leaned over and brought it to my lips. My tongue darted out and licked the head. A tantalizing taste of youthful pre-cum salted my tongue. When the head was good and slick I lolled my tongue along the shaft. As I slowly lapped the sensitive underside, I breathed in his scent. His pubic hair was clean, but an unmistakable, male musk drifted up to my nostrils and I inhaled greedily. It was strong, masculine. It smelled of heat and desire. It smelled like sex.

I licked and sucked all around his shaft, then drew my attention to the fold of skin just below the head. As I ran my tongue along the skin, he moaned loudly, grinding his hot little butt onto the tabletop. I moved to the glans and pressed my tongue against the piss-slit, savoring the almandine taste of hot boy-juice. When he was wet I opened my mouth wide and took him in.

The reaction was swift. However turned on he'd been by the hand-job, his reaction to getting sucked was double. His hips shot off the table and his hands reached for my head. Before long he began to thrust his pelvis up at me, matching my rhythmic movements along his shaft. I grabbed his hairless ballsac as he pumped his dick in my mouth. It always thrills me to give a young guy his first blowjob, and the boy's reactions were all I could have wished for.

This time I knew he was going to cum, whether he wanted to or not. A steady stream of fluid coated my tongue and his breath was coming in short, sharp gasps. I looked up and saw his body arc nearly off the table. Sure enough, in another few seconds I felt him explode in my mouth. Wave after wave of hot boy-spunk coursed over my tongue as he came, hurtling his hips upward and slamming his cock down my throat.

When his orgasm subsided, I swallowed his cum (only a true virgin can make you practice unsafe sex.) Then I lapped at his softening cock, teasing his piss-slit and making him writhe in post-coital ecstasy. Finally, I let him slip from my lips.

He was bathed in sweat, his eyes clamped tight.

I licked the remaining driblets of sweet boy-cum off my lips. He was so young, I bet he'd cum again without much effort.

"You want to continue, Tim?"

He opened his eyes and stared glassily at me. He nodded, too exhausted to speak.

I picked up my oil again and came back to the table. As I suspected, his elastic young dick was already becoming stiff again.

"Roll over, Tim."

He dragged himself over with an effort, and lay on his belly. I wetted another towel and stood behind him, taking another nice long look at his ass. The cheeks were covered in sweat and oil. I applied the warm towel and wiped him clean, the dried his butt. I leaned down now and licked his ass-cheeks with my tongue, lolling from spine to thigh, stopping now and then to nuzzle his hot bottom or to nip the cheeks. My own dick was as stiff as a brick. I couldn't wait to have that hot young butt!

"Now, we didn't negotiate for this, but I don't care. I want you to have this experience. If it bothers you, just stop me and we'll skip it. Okay?"

"Okay," he said, a little doubtfully.

I parted his cheeks and inhaled. He'd done a good job in the shower, I noted with satisfaction. But ass always retains its own musk, and as long as it's not overpowering, I like it. And the sandalwood soap Joe provides in the showers does an awfully nice job of deodorizing. It didn't hurt, of course, that the kid's crack was hairless.

I pushed my tongue between the boy's moist cheeks. He stiffened but said nothing. I lapped around between them, slowly moving in circles around his asshole. The circles got smaller and smaller until my tongue was passing along the outer rim of his hairless little pucker. Smooth and silken, it was like rippled honey on my tongue. When I stuck my tongue directly on it, he cried out, his cheeks snapping together. When they relaxed I began to dip my tongue against his velvety hole, pressing in slightly with each pass until I could feel his butt-lips relaxing. When I felt he was ready, I pushed the tip directly inside him. He gasped again and his sphincter slammed down on me. I was surrounded by tight, hot muscle.

Eating ass always makes me harder than anything else I can do to a man's body. I don't know why. Maybe it's the extreme intimacy of having my lips on a guy's hole. Or it could be the texture of the pucker, like liquid velvet under the tongue. Probably it's a combination of those factors plus the thrill of breaking such a rigid societal taboo. All I know for sure is, the moment I spread a butt open to rim it my cock becomes a pulsating steel rod. I've never tested this theory, but I was willing to bet that if I licked an asshole long enough I could probably cum without touching myself. If not for the fact that I wanted more of the exchange, I could have kept my tongue up Tim's butt long enough to come to a definitive conclusion.

When the kid relaxed enough I lifted his butt in my hands. One of the most beautiful sights in this beautiful life is a pair of rounded asscheeks spread open in your palms. I pushed upward, lapping further and further up his clenching hole. He went wild from the rimming, groaning and pushing his butt back into my face. With each thrust of my wet tongue up his channel his ass-bucking became more urgent.

After a few minutes, I withdrew my tongue, kissed his cheeks and grabbed for the oil. His body slackened and he lay there, panting and moaning softly, his butt-cheeks clamping and loosening.

"You like that, Tim?"

He shuddered.

"Yeah," he whispered huskily.

"It's called rimming. It may seem a little strange to you, to have a guy kiss your hole like that. But there are more nerves in your anus than anywhere else in your body. Not so nice if the guy's got a shitty hole, but incredible when it's clean like yours."

I squirted some oil along the rounded half-melons of his butt. Then I took one cheek in each hand and slowly rotated the soft/hard flesh, rolling his ass-cakes this way and that. In a moment he was pushing back with his hips again, grooving on the butt massage I was giving him. His cock was buried beneath his belly, rock-hard and poking onto the table. After a few minutes of careful kneading, my hands moving closer to his ass-crack, spreading the cheeks and squeezing them softly, I picked up the bottle of oil again.

"Now, I'm going to loosen you up back here. I'm going to start by putting my index finger between your buttcheeks. If you feel comfortable with that, we'll go on."

I felt like a doctor suddenly, explaining the various aspects of a physical exam to my patient, and it made me blush. With my free hand I prized his right cheek open. His little pink asshole winked up at me and I squirted a fast stream of lubricant into his anus. Then I drew my index finger along its wrinkled contours, tracing it. I played with his asshole for a bit, and since he seemed a relaxed from the rimming, slowly dug the tip of my finger into his anus. His sphincter immediately slammed down.

"Okay, Tim, just relax. I'm going to slowly move my finger inside your hole. We'll go at a real relaxed pace. If you want to stop at any time, just say so."

I probed around his velvety anus gently, relaxing the muscle. Before long I was able to slip in to the base of my fingernail. When it popped into his butthole, he gasped and clamped down again. I twisted my finger inside his rectum, teasing him. He ground his ass into the tabletop.

"Remember what I said about the nerves in your butthole? I'm going to caress those nerves now, and you'll see what I mean."

Now when I pressed forward again my finger slid in up to the knuckle. Each time I moved within him he moaned and writhed on the gurney. When I found his prostate with the tip of my finger he yelped and squeezed his cheeks together. When I began to massage it, he groaned in ecstasy. Soon I was happily finger-fucking that tight little virgin hole as he gasped and writhed and before long his butt shot up to meet each new thrust, willing me to probe his hot behind with greater intensity.

I found his prostate again and began to massage it gently. Tim's eyes shot open and he gurgled in surprise and sexual heat.

"That's your prostate I'm touching, Tim. Probably your sex-ed teacher mentioned it, told you what it does. But no one ever tells you how good it feels when someone touches it. There aren't many feelings more intense than that." I continued to stroke the little knot as I spoke. "When you masturbate and you cum, you can feel your sphincter clamping down and relaxing rapidly, right?"

He nodded, his eyes once again closed in ecstasy.

"You also feel something pumping hard?"

Another nod.

"That's the prostate. It's shooting semen into your cock. Most guys, straight guys, they either don't notice the sensations in their asses, or pretend not to because they're afraid to feel pleasure in their butts. Afraid it might make them queer. But gay guys know how much of what's hot in sex is centered right here."

I continued to probe and stroke, and when his asshole was relaxed enough, I spoke again.

"You took one finger, Tim. Want to try for two?"

"Yes!" he said through clenched teeth.

I slipped a second finger inside. Once again he clamped down tight, and once again I massaged his butthole until it relaxed. Again, I made for the prostate. In a moment he was straining and crying out, shoving his sweat-drenched butt back as hard as he could.

"Don't cum yet, Tim," I said hoarsely. Watching his butt swivel and twist this way and that was mesmerizing, but I wanted to get him off through what I think of as the ultimate act, and young as he was I still couldn't be sure if he came now he'd be able to do it again.

He relaxed his body, and I pulled out. He was covered with sweat now, his breath coming in great gasps. The oil and perspiration coating his lithe, hairless form made him shine with youth and heat and pure, unadulterated sex.

"You've never been fucked, right?" I asked softly. "That's what you said." I didn't want to impugn his experience, but if no one's dick had ever been up his ass, I wanted to be sure I did things at the right pace.

He shook his head in the negative, his eyes still clamped tight.

"You want this to continue?"

If he had any doubts, this was the time to voice them. Instead he opened his mouth, licked his lips and let out a single strangled word.


All right, then. It was now, or never.

I wiped my hands off again and spoke, my own voice ragged with sexual tension.

"Just stay where you are for a minute," I rasped.

With that, I dropped my pants around my ankles. My dick was a solid pole of throbbing flesh, and the head was wet with pre-cum. I stepped out of my pants and shorts and grabbed my cock, stroking it as I gazed at the hot young male form spread out on my table, sweat pouring off his lean body, his cock a ramrod, his chest heaving and his ass quivering in anticipation.

I had to have him, and now!

"I'm going to wear a condom, Tim. That's for your protection. I'm HIV-negative, but I believe in playing it safe." Especially with a boy his age.

After slipping on the rubber, applying a healthy stream of oil to my cock and spreading it from head to base, I climbed up onto the table behind the boy.

"Turn around and face me, Tim," I commanded softly. He rose onto his knees with effort and when he turned I saw that his cock was even stiffer than it had been before. He stared down at my naked body with a look of dazed, youthful lust.

"If I hurt you at all you've got to tell me, and fast. The last thing I want is for this to be anything other than pleasurable for you. If I go too fast, stop me. If it hurts, stop me. You're under no obligation to go through with anything. You understand, Tim?"

He nodded his sweaty head.

"Okay. First, I want you to squat over my cock," I said. "It'll be easier on you. Putting something as big as a man's dick in your butt is serious business. This way you can control what happens, and how fast it happens."

He scootched forward and hovered there, his oiled-up butt quivering above my crotch and his cock bouncing painfully before him. His eyes stared intently into mine, and I felt a decided flip-flop in my stomach. He had lovely eyes.

"Now take hold of my dick."

His hand wrapped around my straining shaft and it was my turn to moan. His palm was hot and I shuddered at the tight grip on my dick.

"Okay," I gasped. "Move the head to your butthole."

In a moment I was wedged between those two glorious cheeks. I could feel his rosebud clenching against my glans. It felt wonderful.

"Now slowly push the tip of it in. Take your time. Relax your sphincter. If it hurts at all, stop and wait. I promise I won't push. Just take your time. Getting past the head's the hard part. Once that's in, you'll be ready to take it all."

The boy let himself get used to the feel of my dick-head against his oily pucker. I felt his thumb press upward on the shaft and his ass-lips opened slightly. The tip of my cock was suddenly engulfed in the volcanic heat of his asshole. He winced for a second or two, then relaxed and I felt his butthole open to accommodate a bit more of the glans. Pausing slightly every few seconds, Tim pushed me into him. It was achingly, agonizingly slow, and in my own fetid heat it was damn near all I could do not to thrust upwards and impale him, but I didn't want to hurt him. Let him regulate his own speed. I'm still young enough to remember the first time I had a dick up my ass, and I knew what he was experiencing: some pain, some fear, and a growing pleasure as more of the head slipped inside his hot flaming hole.

When the last bit popped inside him, he grimaced and sucked air through clenched teeth briefly. I noticed that his dick had softened somewhat from the effort, so I took hold of it and stroked it back to life. His body shuddered and his sphincter clamped down on me, hard. My entire cockhead was now surrounded by the furnace heat of his tight rectum. I wondered how long I could hold back the massive orgasm I knew was approaching.

As if in answer to my thoughts, he began to slide down my shaft, still gingerly but with greater speed. When I felt his buns flop against my balls, I looked up to see his face, shining with pleasure.

"Oh, God!" he moaned. "This feels great!"

I smiled.

"Good, Tim. Now you can fuck yourself on my dick. Just rise up and lower down. Take it at your own speed."

He nodded happily and lifted his ass up, causing my cock-shaft to slip slowly from his butt. I was willing to bet he'd accidentally pull off too far, and he did. My cock slapped against my belly.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"That's okay. But get it back in fast, before your asshole has time to tighten up again.

Like a little trooper, he shoved my dick back up his slickened butthole until it was again fully embedded. Then he rose up, more slowly this time, before sitting back down.

"Oh, man!" he cried. "God! Oh! I love you up my butt!"

After raising and lowering himself a few more times, I could see his cock was once more throbbing with excitement.

"When you sit on my dick, do you feel it brush up against your prostate?"

He nodded, breathing hard.

"Good. That's what I was talking about before. It's what makes getting fucked feel so damn great. Now, just sit down slowly. Okay."

I wriggled my hips and felt my cock moving inside him.

He groaned in delight.

"Now, just sit there. Don't do a thing, just enjoy the sensations."

I held onto his hips and we stayed that way for a bit, connected. Man-cock to boy-butt. I was engulfed in his wet, flaming heat, and it felt wonderful. Occasionally my cock touched against his prostate and he moaned, shuddering with delight, he sphincter slamming open and closed rapidly.

Our lips touched and I held him tightly against my chest as we kissed.

He started to lift up again, but I stopped him mid-way.

"No, just sit there. Now, I want you to squeeze down hard on my cock with your sphinct---oh, my god!"

His ass-walls had clamped down suddenly and I damn near shot up off the table myself. He gripped my dick so tightly I saw stars. When I recovered, I kissed him again.

"Little man, you're a natural."

He smiled, his eyes shining.

"What I want you to do now is fuck yourself on my cock again, only this time, squeeze down tight when you're pulling off, relax as much as you can on the way back down, and squeeze again when I'm completely inside you. Okay? Now, go slowly, until you get used to the motions."

He needed no further instruction. As he lifted off, his asshole grabbed me in a death-grip. As he lowered himself back down, his boy-hole loosened its clamp on my dick. And when his butt came to rest on my balls again, he clenched me tightly. He was a natural.

I let him go for a bit, just holding his hips as he bucked up and down happily on my aching cock, crying out each time I brushed against his prostate. He never once had to touch himself, either: his own dick was rock-hard and leaking copiously. Finally, I held him in place and he opened his shining eyes.

"Think you're ready to let me be on top for a while?"

"Yeah," he said, his breath coming in tight gasps.

"Okay. Now try to hold me inside you while you turn over. I'll move with you."

He slammed his sphincter so hard on my shaft I almost blacked out. Holding him tightly, I shifted to let him fall, pushing up to stay embedded in his hungry butt. As he lay on his left side I maneuvered myself so that I was on my right. After a few false starts, he was laying beneath me, our bellies kissing. We were still attached, and I felt his torrid cock against my belly.

He looked up at me and grinned.

"God, you're hot," he murmured. "Can I kiss you?"

My answer was the press of my own lips on his. He threw his arms around my back and held tight. I took his head between my hands and gave him a long, passionate kiss. His cock poking against my flesh was rigid and becoming wet. Good. I wanted him to cum with me inside him.

Breaking the kiss, I reared back and thrust my cock up his channel, making him cry out in delight.

"Having an orgasm with a dick up your ass is the greatest feeling in the world. But I want to cum with you. Don't touch yourself, okay, Tim?"

His hand was already hovering over his cock, but he nodded and let it fall again. I could feel his asshole clench and unclench, building slowly but surely. Holding onto his sides I began to fuck him, slowly at first but gaining speed. He cried out.

"Am I hurting you?" I rasped between thrusts.

"No! Oh, god, it feels so good! Oh! Fuck me, Carl! Fuck me, fuck me!"

He was close, and so was I. I began to make short, sharp thrusts, building in intensity, and pretty soon he was pushing his butt back to meet me. In a moment I could feel his asshole slam down on my shaft and the rapid pumping of his prostate. Suddenly he was coming. His entire body was wracked with it, and I shoved upward as hard as I could. Hot spurts of boy-jizz splashed on my belly and his sphincter tightening around me brought me to the edge. When his asshole spasmed repeatedly, squeezing my dick mercilessly I came.

My orgasm seemed to last forever, and was made all the sweeter by the boy's own climax, which caused his entire body to shudder and spasm. All the sensations in the world felt centered on my dick and the throbbing intensity of the boy's asshole that surrounded it, milking me of every last drop that collected in the tip of my condom.

When our bodies had stopped shuddering, I looked down at him. His eyes were clamped shut in ecstasy, and he wriggled his bottom against the table, still clenching his sphincter on my aching cock. When he opened his eyes again I was smiling down at him. His lips parted and he grinned.

"Did you like that, Tim?"

He shuddered again, squeezing my dick deliciously between his downy buttocks.

"Oh, god! It was--I--"

He couldn't complete the sentence except with a long, drawn-out sigh of delight. So I put a period on my words by pressing my mouth on his.

We kissed until my dick, softening, slipped out of his butt. Then I stepped off the table and got a towel, with which I lovingly wiped up the enormous pools of boy-juice on his belly before removing the remainder from my own.

He lay there a bit, closing his eyes and opening them, the pupils shining as the smile of peace and fulfillment on his lips grew bigger. Finally he stepped off the table, his legs a bit wobbly. I tossed him another towel and he cleansed himself, dabbing the oil from his softening but still sensitive cock-shaft and removing some of the leftover lube from his well-used asshole.

He wrapped the towel around his slender belly and grinned at me sheepishly.

"Can I come see you again, Carl?" he asked, a bit shyly.

I reached out and mussed his hair playfully.

"Sure, Tim. Just be careful, huh? The vice cops'd love to catch someone your age in here."

"I'm not as young as I look," he smiled. "I'm almost eighteen."

I looked at him, disbelief all over my face.

"What's `almost'?"

He blushed.

"Um--I'm 16."

"Reason to be even more careful, Tim."

"Well, maybe--maybe we could meet some other place?"

It was against every bit of intelligence I possessed and every better judgment I ever had, but I took out a card with my home address and telephone number on it and handed it to him.

"This is just between us, okay?"

He nodded, grinning.

"Oh yeah--sure!"

Then he tucked the card into his towel and made for the door.

"Hey, Tim," I called softly.

He turned.

"How old are you, really?"

"Sixteen. But I'll be seventeen next week. Honest."

"What's your real name?"

"Tim!" he answered, grinning. "Like I told you."

"Okay, Tim," I smiled, walking toward him. I stuffed the 40 bucks in his palm. "My treat."

He looked at me, startled.

"I never had a sweeter student," I blurted out.

Tim looked amazed, but kissed me quickly and vanished.

My heart was racing. What just happened? I'd never played lovey-dovey with a client before. But I couldn't get his pretty face out of my mind, and every time I thought of his lips on mine I felt my stomach turn over.

I wondered how long it would be before he called. If he ever did.

I couldn't let myself think that. He would call. I knew it.

I slipped into my street clothes, opened the door and called to Joe.

"What's business like?"

"Slow. Real slow."

I closed the door behind me.

"That kid--his first?"


"Thought so. He was in there an awful long time."

"Just showin' him the ropes, Joe."

"He get his money's worth?" he asked casually.

"They always do." I tried to sound nonchalant. "I'm knockin' off for the night," I said as I passed Joe's cage.

"It's only seven. Whatsa matter? Boy too much for ya?"

As a matter of fact, he was. But I just smiled.

"Ahh, you know me, Joe. Fuck `em and leave `em."

"Yeah, that's you, all right."

"No, I'm just a bit bored is all."

"Join the club."

"Any of my regulars come in, tell `em to come back tomorrow night. Okay?"

"Okay. See you later."

When I walked out to my car, I was not at all surprised to see Tim waiting in the lot. I unlocked the passenger door and threw it open. When I slid into the driver's seat he was there. He smiled. I smiled back. He looked radiantly happy. My heart was pulsing a steady rhythm of something I thought might be love. Me. Hard-hearted, hardheaded me. And seventeen-next-week Tim. It was improbable, careless, even stupid. But it worked for me. It might change next week, next month, next year. Probably it would, and sooner rather than later. He was young, he'd get tired and move on. But it worked for me now.

We didn't say a word, just smiled shyly at each other.

My cock was hard again.

I gunned the engine and started for home.