Date: Thu, 26 Apr 2018 08:22:57 -0700
From: vereinington@secmail.pro
Subject: The Boys of Columbia Heights Mobile Manor (Gay / Adult Youth)

The following story is fictional. None of the events, characters,
businesses or cities are real. Please do not read if you are under 18 or
if the content is illegal in your jurisdiction. Email me if you liked the
story or want to comment at vereinington@secmail.pro.  Thanks! Vance.

Nifty needs your donations to provide this valuable platform
http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

THE BOYS OF COLUMBIA HEIGHTS MOBILE MANOR

I looked out the open window across my kitchen sink and toward another
trailer about eight feet from mine. A faint glow shone through the closed
shade of a window directly across from me, but there was a gap of about
eight inches at the bottom. It was 11:30 on a summer night, and the
trailer park was relatively quiet, aside from the occasional croak of a
frog that lived somewhere in my back yard.

Through the eight inch gap below the window shade I could see a tan,
blonde boy of about 12 lying on his back naked on a bed. Someone with a
mop of dark hair knelt between the boy's legs and bobbed up and down on
his pale groin, which contrasted with his tan legs and chest. The boy's
thin, but surprisingly long wet erection entered, withdrew, entered, then
withdrew from the devouring mouth. I knew who was sucking the boy - I had
coaxed him to do it.

The young teen blowing the boy turned his head slightly toward the window
and his eyes locked onto mine. His lips curled into a faint smile but
never left the young boy's cock. I gave him a subtle nod. I owed Seth $40.


Seth's lower body was hidden from view beyond the window opening but I
could see he was naked. The 14-year-old was an accomplished cock-sucker
and I'm sure he was giving feelings to l2-year-old Kenny that were
unsurpassed. Though I couldn't see it, I knew Seth would be hard. He
always got a boner when he sucked a cock, which I found a little unusual -
the kid liked girls.

Seth continued to work on the 12-year-old's erection. The younger kid, who
had his left arm draped over his eyes, began to buck his hips and thrust
deeper. He put his right hand on Seth's head and pushed slightly but Seth
knocked it away and sped up his rhythm, devouring the cock to the hilt
over and over. Finally, the young boy lifted his ass off the bed and
pushed up and into Seth's mouth powerfully, then collapsed back onto the
mattress. Seth took his mouth off the thin, long cock and spit. Despite
his familiarity with sucking the male member, Seth would never swallow, a
fact he'd made perfectly clear to me many times. Seth got up from the bed
and closed the shade all the way. The show was over.

Ten minutes later, I heard a soft knocking at my back door. I opened it
and Seth walked in without invitation. His dark hair covered his forehead,
ears and neck, but stopped at his collar. He was short for his age but his
body was lean and powerful. He was wearing blue nylon basketball shorts
and a nylon tank top in a darker shade of blue. His skinny tanned
shoulders and arms were shiny and hairless.

"I told you I could do it," he said.

"You're a man of many talents," I said, with just a trace of sarcasm. I
handed Seth two twenty-dollar bills.

"So how did you get Kenny to let you suck him?" I asked.

Seth's dark eyes looked at mine. "I started talking about Desiree, and
told him she sucked my cock."

I knew Seth was lying to Kenny - he had been trying to get with Desiree
for a year, but her home-schooling mother had instilled the value of
purity in her. Desiree had a cute 15-year-old brother, Nate, who I would
have loved to see naked and fool around with, but I was certain that was
out of the question. Though they lived with their white single mother,
Nate and Desiree were mixed race kids who seemed to have gotten the most
attractive genes from both their caucasian mother and their black father.
Nate had long thin arms and legs with large hands and feet. Wavy brown
hair sprouted from his head in every direction and stray ringlets fell
into his emerald green eyes. The curls were gentle, not kinky, and
complemented his light cocoa skin and small, flat nose. I often wondered
what his cock looked like. Was he cut? Was his bigger than average? I knew
it was a cliché, but I fantasized that his large hands and African
American heritage signified a monster cock on his skinny, tall body.

"Go on, Seth," I prodded, returning to our conversation.

"He asked me if she was able to get it all in her mouth. He wanted to know
how big I was so I showed him. Then I says to him it was only fair that he
showed me his. He was already hard when he pulled his pants and underwear
down."

"Were you hard when you showed him your cock?" I asked.

"No, but I says to him I would get hard so he could see how big it got. He
was really interested in my cock. I asked him if he ever had a blowjob and
he says no," Seth continued. "So I says to him I would give him one, just
so he would know what it was all about. I told him he couldn't tell
nobody, ever."

"How did you get him naked?" I asked.

"I just told him blowjobs was best when you're naked. It was easy," Seth
answered.

"I agree with that!" I said, nodding my head and looking Seth in the eyes.


Seth pulled his tank top over his head and kicked off his flip-flops. He
hooked his hands into his waistband and pulled his underwear and nylon
shorts down to his ankles in one swift motion, then stepped out of them.

I sat down on the low footstool of the steel-blue velvet easy chair in my
living room and Seth approached me. His skin was a composition in three
shades: His extremities, face and neck had gotten plenty of sun this
summer and were chestnut brown. His stomach and abdomen were caffe latte
colored, having not gotten as much sun - it looked like Seth was wearing a
tank top that was slightly lighter than his skin. Finally, his lower
midsection was creamy white, with an erection pointing out from a small
crop of light brown pubic hair. He was about 5 1/2" inches long and cut.
Seth was a grower - when soft, his cock was just over two inches, but when
he got hard it expanded impressively.

I took him into my mouth and grabbed his buttocks with both hands. Seth
was really horny, so I knew he wouldn't last long. He thrust into my mouth
as far as he could go and I held him in. Then I did that thing he loves -
I tickled his balls with my tongue as they rested on my chin. He began to
rhythmically thrust and increased his pace. He came in my mouth in less
than a minute. I swallowed it all, and licked him clean for good measure.

After Seth re-dressed, we sat on my couch watching last week's "Walking
Dead" and passed a joint. Seth fell asleep during the episode. I covered
him with a thin blanket, then went to my room and jerked off while I
looked at pictures of Seth and other boys on my laptop.

I had lived in the "Mobile Manor" for three years. I moved here when I was
45 and going through a midlife crisis. Before I moved here, I had been a
divorced workaholic with a daughter who was just entering college. I had
been a chief designer for a video gaming company in Portland and made a
comfortable living. My salary and stock in the company enabled me to
maintain my own house and the house my wife and daughter lived in. Though
I was fulfilled and satisfied with my career, I was not happy with my
personal life. I had tamped down a deep desire to spend time with and make
love to adolescent boys. For over twenty years I suppressed the urges, but
I didn't want to die without experiencing the thing I hadn't known since I
was 19.

I'd read a couple news stories about things that went on in trailer parks.
One article talked about an older man who had been arrested when his
neighbor peeked in his window and saw him having sex with a young
teenager. The news story went on to say that the 68-year-old man had been
paying the boys in his trailer park for sex and it was suspected that over
40 boys had been involved with him over the last dozen years. Mental note:
If I get a trailer, keep the curtains closed.

Another story talked about a man who had become the de-facto father figure
for dozens of boys in his trailer park whose single mothers were drug
addicts or otherwise unable to care for their kids. His trailer became the
place the boys could go when they needed refuge from their troubled family
lives. The feel-good story talked about how he had enrolled the boys in
scouting and had become the scout master of the park's very own troop. I
wondered if he was a boylover. It sounded like he had expended a lot of
time, energy and money on his boys.

The final factor that made me decide I needed to move into a trailer park
was a guy on my team at work who'd just gotten married. In order to save
money for a house, the newlyweds had moved into a trailer owned by his
wife's parents. I heard constant stories about all the unsupervised kids
in the park who were practically raising themselves. One day my colleague
came in and told me he'd caught two young boys trying to "screw each
other" behind a shed on his property.

"Really?" I asked. "How old were they?"

"11 or 12," he answered. "Can you imagine?"

I could and did imagine.

Over the next couple months after that conversation I developed a plan. I
would resign from my job and become an independent contractor in the video
gaming industry. With my skills and experience, I knew I could maintain a
decent living, especially after I downsized my housing situation. The
specifics of my job allowed me to work from anywhere - I simply needed a
good computer set-up and high speed data capabilities.

I started looking at trailers for sale in mobile home parks. I wanted to
get outside of the city, and even beyond the suburbs so I could start life
anew with little chance of running into people from my old life. I knew my
ex-wife and daughter would find my choices strange; I had to figure out a
way to move into my new life without arousing suspicion from those who
were close to me.

I finally found the place I was looking for about 90 miles directly east
of Portland, in a mid-sized town of about 15,000 people. The picturesque
trailer park I chose, Columbia Heights Mobile Manor, looked like it had
been there since the early 1950s. It butted right up to the virginal pine
forest and smelled like Christmas trees. The sign on the complex and the
club house looked like well-maintained relics from the Eisenhower era, and
even some of the trailers looked like they could have been there since
then. Kids rode their bikes up and down the narrow paved drives or whooped
and hollered as they ran around the small playground area near the
clubhouse.  The complex had a swimming pool as well, but this was gated
and minors under the age of 18 had to be accompanied by an adult to enter
the pool area.

The prices in this town were dramatically lower than in the city, and I
realized I could buy both a high-end condo and the trailer park home I had
my eyes on with the money I'd make from the sale of my house in Portland,.
As a bonus I would still have a tidy nest egg left over from the sale of
my house.

I told my ex-wife and daughter that I was moving out of the city to
retire, though I would still be consulting and working in the industry
part time. I would be moving to an area where I could pursue my newfound
hobbies of mountain biking and hiking. My ex's chief concern was that I
would continue to make the payments on her house. I assured her the
mortgage payments would not be interrupted. I showed them pictures of my
new condo in a well-landscaped complex with gorgeous views of Mt. Hood. To
make my video game consulting business official, I formed a corporation.
This corporation also owned real estate, namely, one double wide trailer
in a picturesque mobile home community two miles from my condo.

The purchase of the trailer was done via e-mail and courier, and when I
finally moved into the park, I introduced myself to my neighbors as a
renter, which I technically was, since I was paying my corporation for the
use of the trailer.

"I'm Jackson Ryan. I just moved in from Portland," I told the neighbor to
the right. She was a bleached blonde, overly tan woman in her early
thirties who introduced herself as "Crystal."

In truth, my name was actually James Ryan Jackson, but I liked "Jackson
Ryan." It sounded like a spy in an adventure novel. It was my perfect new
boylover pseudonym, and was a much better name than Jim Jackson, the old
me.

I bought some cheap furniture at Target and from a couple thrift shops to
furnish my trailer. I didn't want anything flashy or expensive in my
living room, though I did splurge on some boy's toys, including the newest
gaming platforms (which I could also write off as a work expense!), a
couple drones, and a 60" flat screen TV which I conspicuously mounted in a
tough looking security enclosure.

The first weekend I spent in the trailer park was in mid-September. The
weather was overcast with a slight chill in the air. I'd spent the three
days prior moving my stuff into the mobile home and finally felt organized
enough to relax. I decided to ride my bike around the complex and check
things out. Just around the corner from my house, two or three trailers
down, I saw to boys skateboarding in the street. A tiny, homemade
quarter-pipe ramp sat in the middle of the road and the boys attempted to
do kick turns and reverts on it. The two kids looked to be 13 or 14 years
old - one was taller and leaner and had longish blonde hair; the other was
more compact and had a headful of thick, dark hair which covered his eyes,
but was shorter in the back. Despite the coolish weather, the blond kid
was wearing shorts and a tank top, and the dark haired kid was shirtless
in jeans. Above the waistband of his jeans I could see his boxer briefs:
American Eagle, black with lime green lettering.

I immediately got butterflies in my stomach and rode quickly past the
boys, trying to look as if I was uninterested in them or their activities.
 "Shit," I thought to myself. "I moved here to make friends with boys and
I'm acting like a pussy." I rode further down the block and made a right
turn, stopping to collect myself when I was out of sight of the boys. I
resolved to be brave and rode back towards the two skaters.

The boys paused what they were doing and looked at me as I stopped my bike
near the quarter-pipe. Their blank, neutral expressions showed neither
fear nor expectation.

"Hey guys, I just moved into the park. I'm Jackson down at number 38," I
said, trying to sound energetic and friendly. I lowered my voice a bit.
"You guys wouldn't happen to know where I could score a little weed around
here?"

Their expressions turned from indifferent to interested. The dark-haired
kid smiled, revealing a mouth full of braces, and glanced at his buddy.

Within less than a year, recreational marijuana would be legal in Oregon,
but at this time it was still plentiful on the black market. It had
already been decriminalized, though it was forbidden to minors.
Nevertheless, the kids knew that no cop would bother cooking up a drug
sting for pot.

"Connie's brother sometimes has it," the dark haired kid said. I watched
his tight abdomen as he talked.

"Connie?" I asked.

"That's me," said the blonde boy, brushing a long strand of hair from his
face. I would later learn that his name was short for "Conrad," but he'd
been called Connie since he was a toddler.

"Is your brother around?" I asked Connie.

"Lemme see," he said and rode his skateboard to the front door of a
trailer 15 feet from the quarter pipe. He opened a screen door and
disappeared inside.

Feeling an awkward silence, I began talking to the dark haired boy.
"What's your name?" I asked.

"Harry," he answered. He offered me his hand and I shook it, thinking it
was a strange and grown-up gesture.

"Is that short for Harold or Henry?" I asked.

"No, just Harry, like Harry Potter." He continued, "My mom's favorite book
was Harry Potter, and when I was born I had a bunch of dark hair so she
named me Harry."

"That's really cool!" I said, genuinely impressed with the origins of his
name. I found this Harry a lot more attractive than Daniel Radcliffe.

After a few seconds of silence Harry piped up. "So... you smoke, huh?"

"Yep. And you?" I asked.

"When I can get my hands on it," Harry replied. "Connie's brother Matt is
super stingy with his weed and I don't have a job or anyway to earn money.
Connie used to sneak shit, but his brother found out and now he's
super-careful about it."

"Well, I'll share if Connie's brother can come through for me," I said.

Harry looked me in the eye and slowly nodded. Just then Connie burst out
of the screen door of the trailer.

"My brother is willing to sell a quarter ounce for $70, but he wants me to
be the middle man," Connie announced.

"Hmm, it better be good for that price," I said.

After I agreed to buy half an ounce, Connie went through the motions of
setting up the deal. I wouldn't meet his older brother Matt until six
weeks later since Connie continued to act as my agent in the buying of
weed. I knew Connie was marking up the price but I didn't mind.

After my purchase, the boys ended up in my trailer to smoke with me. They
were excited that I had Xbox One, Playstation and Wii U. Connie and Harry
slouched on my couch next to each other and I joined them so we could pass
the joint easily.  They played Metal Gear on my 60" flat screen and
giggled while we got high. I had a hard time keeping my eyes off of
Harry's bare  chest with his little developing pectorals and slight six
pack. Connie's lean, tan legs, with just a dusting of light blonde hair on
his lower calves were also a turn on. I had to figure out a way to get
things moving in a sexual direction. That would come a few days later.

The next Thursday around 1:00 pm Harry appeared at my front door. "Want to
hang out?" he asked.

I knew it was code for letting him come in and smoke some of my weed. I
invited him in. Harry was wearing gray sweatpants and a rust colored
t-shirt.

We smoked and watched Breaking Bad on Netflix. I asked Harry why he was
out of school.

"I decided to come home early," he explained. "The second half of classes
on Thursday is useless."

Harry continued talking - the weed was making him verbose.  He told me
about his family life: He lived with his single mother and 11 year old
brother Seth; Dad wasn't in the picture; Mom was a part-time hairstylist
with a series of loser boyfriends; Harry had been suspended for three days
last spring in eighth grade for disrespecting a teacher; There was a hot
girl in his home room named April who had a reputation for giving blow
jobs, but he didn't know how to approach her about it.

"You don't have a girlfriend who can do that for you?" I probed.

"Nope. I want a girlfriend. My friend Keller met his girlfriend online,
but the stupid iPads we get from school lock us out of social media apps,"
Harry said.

"You don't have a computer or smartphone?" I asked.

"My mom sometimes lets me use her phone. She said I could have her phone
when I turn 16 and she would get a new one." I knew it would be almost two
years before Harry turned 16. Having come from a comfortable middle class
background, I was surprised that a 14-year-old wouldn't have a smartphone.
I was being introduced to a world where families lived precipitously close
to the electricity being shut off or the eviction notice being pasted on
the front door.

"You can use my computer," I offered. "You'e welcome to look for a
girlfriend or do whatever else you want to do. Come on..." I motioned
Harry into my home office and told him to sit at the computer. I had built
and hot-rodded my own powerful desktop and had two large monitors. I
leaned over Harry and typed in my passcode.

"What do you want to do?" I asked.

"Just look around a bit," he answered without detail. He sat at the the
computer and did nothing. I had to get this moving.

"How about porn?" I suggested.  Harry looked up at me to see if I was
serious. I typed in the URL to xTube.

Harry got busy clicking links and watching videos. Standing behind and
above him, I positioned myself so I could see his groin. I saw definite
signs of arousal through the gray fleece fabric of his sweat pants until
he crossed his legs to hide his unmistakable hard-on.

I knew it was now or never; I had to start acting on my desires or I'd
stay in the same place I'd been the last 26 years. I'd built a new life
for a moment like this.

"That boner looks pretty uncomfortable," I said. "You don't need to hide
it; I've seen plenty of them."

Harry looked over his shoulder at me with an expression of surprise and
slight embarrassment. He uncrossed his legs to reveal the defined shape of
an adolescent erection stretching the fabric at his lap.

"You can take it out and play with it," I said. It was more a command than
a suggestion. I had butterflies in my stomach but tried to stay composed
and in control of the situation. I wasn't sure what would happen after I
said those words.

Harry surprised me by pulling his sweats and boxers completely off and
spreading his legs. His five inch, cut penis pointed straight up from a
thin patch of dark hair. He began to stroke it gently as he continued
watching a girl with giant tits getting it doggy-style from a tanned,
hairy guy. He pulled his t-shirt up to reveal his taught stomach muscles.

I went into the living room then returned with the joint we had been smoking.

"Take a couple hits, then I'm going to show you something," I said.

After Harry had consumed more weed I continued. "You trust me, right?"

Harry nodded. I clicked on a new video link. It was a homemade video of a
guy getting oral sex from a good looking girl with long brown hair. The
guy who made the video was filming with his iPhone as he reclined on a
bed, his legs draped over the edge. Between his legs, the girl
administered what looked like a decent blow job.

"I'm going to make you feel really good, like nothing you've ever felt
before. This might seem a little weird at first, but you'll dig it. A
friend did this for me when I was just about your age. Concentrate on the
video and pretend you're the guy."

Harry knew what was going to happen. The combination of weed and extreme
horniness had tamped down his inhibitions. He pushed the chair back from
the desk and spread his legs wider. I knelt between them and took his hard
cock in my mouth. I hadn't sucked a cock since I was 19 but it all came
back to me. I was overcome with the desire to give the boy a kind of
pleasure he'd never experienced. I remembered the tricks I'd used as a
teen cock-sucker, going from gentle, shallow movements to deeper and
harder, then backing off, then licking the balls and taint, then returning
to the cock, teasing and building up, then relaxing. Harry expelled his
breath forcefully as I worked his cock. I could tell he was getting close,
and wanted to experience him cumming in my mouth. I started licking his
wet, shiny cockhead and stroking his shaft, knowing that would probably
bring him over the edge. Harry's balls drew up and his cock started to
spasm. I took him in my mouth as deep as he could go and let him release
down my throat, holding him there for a few seconds while he recovered.

Wow, I thought to myself. That was easier than I ever expected.

I gently pushed Harry away from me and he withdrew, a dazed look still
playing across his face. He leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes.
I silently left the room.

A couple minutes later Harry came into the living room from the office.
"I'm hungry," he said.

I made mac and cheese.

END OF PART ONE.