Date: Sun, 06 Aug 2006 08:50:00 -0400 (EDT) From: herb_cat Subject: The Desperadoes Copyright 2006 Herb Cat. Do not reproduce or distribute this story without the author's permission. Please note: this story depicts oral and anal sex between a male adult and a male minor. If this offends you or is illegal to publish in your jurisdiction, or you are under the age of 18, read no further. The characters, locations and incidents in this story are fictional. Any resemblance to actual events or locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. As an author, I welcome feedback on my writing. Please send any comments about this story, positive or negative, to Herb_Cat@mailcity.com. Thank you. ----- The Desperadoes In fifteen years working for the department of motor vehicles, I've administered the road test to all of them. The young and old, the male and female, the nervous, the overconfident, the experts and the klutzes. But at least once a week, I get one of the Desperadoes. This candidate has to pass the driving test. He or she is desperate for a license, and would probably sell his or her soul to the devil to get one. Maybe it's the thirty-year old who has just completed his DUI program and now must get his license back. He needs the car for his job. Maybe it's the seventy-year old whose children want him off the road once and for all, and state law requires he be retested every five years; but he's been driving all his life and if he were to lose his license now, he might as well quit living. Maybe it's the young mother, who has never driven before but is going crazy stuck in the house now that her child has started school. But most often, it's a young kid like Tommy, who got into my test car last week. "So, Kid, you're here to get a driver's license." "Yes, Sir." "And you've practiced everything." "Oh God, Yes. This time, I've practiced everything, Sir." "This time? You've taken the test before, Kid?" "Six times, Sir. Oh God, if I don't pass it this time, my Dad'll kill me!!" "I see." (Mental note: I've got me a desperado.) Tommy was going on seventeen, somewhat short for his age, with a swimmer's build, dirty brown hair, and blue puppy-dog eyes. He was wearing a pair of jeans, sneakers, and a sweatshirt with his high school logo. He turned the key, checked his rearview mirror, and pulled the car out on to the street. I immediately put plan D into full gear. No matter how well Tommy did, my body language indicated that it was awful. I squirmed, coughed, and wrote furiously on my clipboard; my foot pressed the invisible brake on the floor. Of course this only made Tommy more nervous, which caused him to make more mistakes, which increased my squirming and writing. At the stop sign, Tommy was practically in tears. "Oh God, I'm going to fail again." "Looks that way." "Oh God. I gotta pass this time. Look, I'll do anything!!" (Ah, the magic words. That was the sentence I was waiting for.) "Anything, Kid?" "Oh God, Yes" "Tell you what, Kid, We may be able to work something out." "Really?" "I'd hate to have another examiner go through this torture with you next month, so I got a proposal for you." "Oh, please, Sir. Whatever you say." (That was the perfect response, Kid.) "Turn right into the next drive." There was a vacant building with a small parking lot behind it, well hidden from public scrutiny. "OK, pull up here and turn off the car. ... Now look, Kid, I'm going to test you on three special skills. They're very easy. And if you perform them satisfactorily, you'll get your license." "Wow, Really?" Tommy smiled through his tears. "But you have to do exactly what I say, to the letter. Or else, you'll flunk again. You got that, Kid?" "Oh God, Yes." "OK, the first skill involves hand signals. Place your right hand here in my lap." Tommy tentatively reaches over. I press his hand down on to my package. "There, you feel that?" "Uh, yeah." "You know what it is?" "Uh, yeah." "I call it my Maserati. Bet you've always wanted to get your hands on a Maserati, right, Kid?" (He gives a nervous little laugh). "Yeah, very good. ... Now both hands. Ahh, yes, you see you're not such a loser after all. OK, now unbuckle my pants. ... Oh, yeah, Tommy. That's better. Now unzip the zipper. ... Excellent." I lifted my butt up and pushed my pants and briefs down, allowing my mammoth hardon to slam back into Tommy's hand. "Well, this is the chance of a lifetime. I'm giving you the rare privilege of touching this classic. I don't let just anyone handle this baby, you know," I lied. "Start feeling it, Kid. All that horsepower. ... Good, you're doing fine so far. I can see that drivers license with your name on it." Tommy gave a faint little smile. "Now, you know how to jack, don't you, Tommy?" "Uh, yeah." "OK, Kid, jack me off good." Tommy went to work giving me a hand job that he hoped would earn him his license. "Wow, Kid, you're a fast learner. You're doing all right. I can see you really want that license." "Oh God, Yes." Tommy began jacking me harder. He figured if this was all it took to get his license, it wouldn't be so bad. The prize was well worth holding on to another man's tool for a while. But of course, I was only getting started. "OK, Kid, I see you're an expert on the hand signals. Now we'll move on to the second skill." Tommy stopped jacking. "Uh, what's that?" He was frowning. "It's parking. I want you to park this baby between your two luscious lips." Tommy hesitated. "You're so close to getting your license, you're not going to stop now, are you, Kid?" Tommy leaned over and allowed his lips to touch my throbbing dickhead. I pushed his head down on to my hardon. "Come on, Tommy boy, suck away. ... That's it, you're doing real good now. That license is almost in your hands, Kid. ... Ah, wow, you really are good, Tommy. I've never had someone so skilled at parking,"I lied again. Tommy sucked hard now, and almost caused me to get my rocks off, but I wasn't going to let that happen. "OK, you passed two of the three tests. Just one more, Kid." Tommy sat up again and glared at me. "The last test is garaging. You've got to prove to me you can get this precious baby here safely into the garage." I waited a moment for that much to sink in. "OK, Kid, get your pants off. ... Come on, my Maserati can't wait much longer." Tommy slowly began undoing his own pants. "That's it, Kid. All you gotta do is get this into your garage and you're home free." I looked at Tommy's sweet little innocent ass as it made its appearance. I reached in my glove compartment and pulled out my tube of KY. As I began to slather it on his hole, poking my finger right up his chute, Tommy was whimpering, "Oh, please, Sir, please." "Don't worry, Kid. I'm a man of my word. I told you you'd have your license. No need to beg me any more. Now come over here and slowly sit down on my lap. ... Ah, that's the way. Get my big old Maserati into your garage, Kid. ... Wow, you are sure tight. Never had anything like this pushed up there, have you?" "No, Sir," he cried. "Well, you're doing fine. You'll be done in no time." I took Tommy's waist in my two hands. "Now start going up and down. ... Yeah, all right, That's the way. Up and down, up and down. Faster, Kid. Yeah, Oh fuck. ... That's the way. Beautiful, Kid." By now Tommy was wailing, yelling, "Oh God, Oh God!! Please don't. Please. Oh please stop!!" "You mean after going this far, you want to give up, Kid? Don't you want your license?" "Oh God, yes." "Then do you really want to stop?" "Oh God!!" "Tell me what you want, Kid" "I just want my license." "So?" "So I guess don't stop." "Then tell me what you want me to do, Tommy." "I, uh, want you to fuck me, Sir." "Louder" "Oh God, FUCK ME!!" Now Tommy is bouncing on my cock for all his worth. He's gone beyond the point of no return and all he wants now is for it to end as quickly as possible. "Oh, yeah, Kid. We're almost there. ... Hang on! ... Here it comes." With that, I filled the kid's virgin chute with my manjuice. "Oh God, No. Oh God. Oh Fuck!!" Tommy collapsed back against my chest. My cock started shrinking and the pain on his sphincter eased. Tommy collapsed and curled up on the seat under the steering wheel, sobbing and muttering, "Oh God, Oh God." I pulled up my pants, and began writing on my clipboard. "Hey Kid, here, look at this." Tommy opened his eyes and stared through his tears at the paper I held in front of him. "What does it say?" "It says you passed your road test, Kid." "Really?" "Really." "You motherfucker!!" "Hey, a deal's a deal." "I'm gonna tell my ..." "Who? A cop? Your Monmmy? Oh, I know who -- your Daddy, right?" Tommy nodded. "The choice is yours, Kid. You can go home and show your Daddy your spanking new license. Then if you want to tell him how you got it, by willingly letting someone pluck your precious cherry, go ahead. Just remember, Kid, if word gets out that this is the way you passed your road test, then they're going to take your license away. But if that's the way you want it, go ahead and tell." He didn't. The desperadoes never tell.