Chapter 177


Our hope is that every homosexual youth in this country can find a home and someone to love them as they are.
No one deserves to be discriminated against, no matter what their differences from society's norm

A tidy quote from chapter 137
"titles belong on books, not people" ©Carl Dickson—2007

Does your mother know you're reading this shit?

Warning: This story is PORNO. I have tried my hand at friction, now I'm trying fiction. This story contains vivid descriptions of sexual activity between men and teen boys.
It contains no truth, partial truth, or half truth. What it does contain is stroking material. If this kind of story turns you off, or offends you, please find something else.
The author does not encourage or condone sex between adults and underage children.

If you are underage, or if this is illegal where you are, then please go away. If you're under 18, Adios come back when it is legal for you to read this smut.
If you lied about your age in order to access this story, remember this is our story. Life doesn't always work out like a story.

A strongly worded suggestion has resulted in this statement.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either
are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitioiusly,
and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business
establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Thus said, this story is copyrighted, ©2005-2012. It is therefore illegal to copy or use any part of this story on any other web site without my written permission.

You may download the CHEROKEE TONT for free at this link. Dowload it, install it, then enjoy seeing the TSAIAGI names in this story. This font is included in the full version Send an e-mail for it.
    I didn't go straight back to the apartment. I had found Kostja a dichotomy, or sorts. By definition the word means that the object is a bipartition of elements which are mutually exclusive, nothing can belong simultaneously to both parts. He is a nice boy, man, he is quiet and efficient in his work, but…I don't know if he will be alright around a fag house. Oh he was right in there fucking his little heart out—once things got started—but he was quick to quit when the sex was done. With my bunch of fag boys the sex is never done. Well, I guess that I should include myself because I can live on boi butt and cock snot forever, and I never seem to get enough.
    I took my cue from Kostja. I held him in my lap as my cock reached his inner world as nothing had ever touched him. He was passive. Roddy fucked himself on Kostja's cock as the other four boys took turns feeding him their dicks and a load of ball batter each. Roddy did a good job on his pony and I felt Kostja give a heavy load up to my son. Then his body left the room. No, he was still mounted on me, but he wasn't in there.
    I am a thirty five year old boi loving fag that has fucked several thousand men and boys for twenty years. Not a thousand different men and boys, yet close to it. No, I mean I have fucked most of them many, many times. That makes several thousand fucks. I have never been with a boy that was so indifferent after all had cum out. Kostja acted as if nothing had ever happened and joined the rest of us in playtime at the pool.
    Once back in the apartment he didn't act as any boy that I had ever been with before. We talked for a bit and made arrangements for his family to come to dinner then he left. The others noticed his actions and we talked about it. We decided to wait until after the dinner to talk to him further. He may only be good as an employee, we will have to wait and see.

    After the dinner I left the hotel. New York City's Central Park is beautiful, day or night. Right in the middle of the large city, with millions of people everywhere, one can find solace in the park's depths. I walked slowly and let my thoughts run wild as I hoped they would leave my head so that I would have more room for the important matters of my life. I am a mnemonist, but thankfully I am not a savant. Actually I do not go around attempting to impress people with feats of total recall, I suppose the more accurate term would be to say that I possess an eidetic memory—photographic memory.
    I can't recall how many lashes a person has on the left eyelid some six months later. Nor can I recall how many birds flew overhead as I walked through the woods. A savant can do those feats of memory, but they usually don't have many social skills. Every function of their brain is keyed to memorizing the seventy million bytes of information coming from their eyes each second and storing that information in their brain's ten terabytes of data storage capacity. I need, and use, my social skills, thank you.
    It has been proven that one never forgets anything that they have ever heard or seen—it's all in your head. There may be a problem with recalling those data, but they are there. Teenagers have the best ability to forget, especially when it comes to their homework or chores. I will ask you not to remember the first dirty picture that you ever saw. Oh durn, you remembered it, now forget it again. Can't do it can you? How old were you? How old are you now? See how it is still there? and you never thought of it before now.
     I remembered Tim Evers when he said that he wished that he had a Pensive like Dumbledore has. It would be nice to remove the random thoughts and store them away in a safe place for recall at a later time. Sort of like using a flash stick or memory card to remove the clutter from a computer's hard drive. There may be data that would be useful later, but for the time being I would put them away to clear the decks for more current information.

    I had a lot of thoughts that I needed to put away, but I let them fall where they may when I spotted him crying. Without a word I sat down on the bench next to him and watched. He looked out of the side of his eye as he let his head hang. I am not very street savvy and know nothing about how a rent boy should think. I only know that this boy was in trouble, he had not even propositioned me. Whatever his trouble a working prostitute will seek money then return to his sadness.
    The boy was sad. I have dealt with sad boys, many times; this boy was in deep despair. I placed my arm on the back of the park bench and scooted closer to him. He responded at once and pulled against me. I pushed at his head and let it rest against my shoulder. He tightened up so I made the second move. "Go ahead, cry. Let it out and don't worry about anything."
    The sun was low enough that long shadows began to work their way across the park. I heard the chimes in the distance as a clock tower somewhere rang out six o'clock. Dinner with the Waldhar family had taken less than an hour and a half. I was disappointed, but my mind was trying its best to focus on the problem at hand. Or in hand, as it were.
    The boy stank…no, make that reeked. His clothes had not been in hot, soapy water in a long time; and I don't think that he had either. I have dealt with dirty, stinky boys in the past and I hoped that this boy would let me help with his hygiene.
    A few hours into our non-exchange the boy sniffled and looked up at me. The distant bells had just struck the last chord of the hour so I had been sitting there for at least six minutes. With a sweet young and hung in my arms I don't care about time, I relish the moment. He moved about a little and dried his eyes on his shirt tail. That act revealed a very skinny and undernourished frame that I wanted to aide, at once.
    "When did you eat last?" He shook his head at me. I rose and pulled his hand as I led him across to a hotdog vendor that was gathering in his business to head home before the dark set in. I ordered two Coneys with a soda for my friend and a bottle of water for me. I asked for mustard and lots of onions on my dog, but told the boy to get anything he wanted on his. His eyes widened as he looked at the pot of chilli and I told him to get anything that he wanted on his breakfast snack. That got a giggle from him that made me realize that he may not be as old as I thought.
    "Do you remember me?" He had a half his dog in his mouth as he looked me over. He shook his head no, but continued to eat like a starving boy. I grabbed his arm and pulled at him. "Slow down, please. There is more food. This is only to take the edge off of your hunger until I can have dinner served for you. His eyes widened and a small smile began to cross his face.
    "Yeah, two, three years back. You wuz wid some kid that got this huge old dick and he could fuck so good. We was over der, at dem bike racks. You had da biggest dick that Sharky ever seen and he wanted a big dick up em ever day since den." Suddenly he blanked out and the tears returned like a river. I pulled him close and let him cry again.
    "Dey kilt em. Dey beat us up and kilt em cuz he wuz fucking wid me and me earnly a kid."
    I pulled him close and told him that we needed to go. He didn't know where, but he was willing to go with me. As he dug his belongings from their hiding place near a small bridge I spoke to the air. "Papa to watcher, Papa to watcher." A few seconds later I got a reply. "Watcher, door nine, no eyes."
    "Papa to dispatch."
    "Dispatch here sir."
    "Medco, full test, apartment six. Advise ETA."
    "Affirmative, sir."
    "RD," I spoke into the air as the boy returned.
    He looked around, "Who?"
    I smiled at him, "One moment, I'm on the phone." He looked at me but could not see anything that he was familiar with.
    "What's going on up there son?"
    "Oh, hi dad. Rod is beating my pants off at War Castle. Culley and Jimmy are curled up watching that Cage movie where he is looking for a city of gold. Mom and Pam are playing with the babies and Cory took Sarah for a walk to try to find you."
    "I will call Cory, but I need your help. Go to apartment six, take Roddy with you and ask him to draw a bath with lots of bubbles. Oh, and use the salts, lots of salts and bubbles, and hot." I heard the house phone ring in the background. Roddy called for Cullen to answer it, I heard him say that it was Kostja. I asked RD to listen in.
    "Kostja wants to talk to you, dad."
    "Perfect!!!" I had to explain quickly as I told RD to take Kostja to apartment six with him. I told him to keep his pants on and to make sure that Roddy had his on. We were across the street and the boy followed me, with his baggage in hand, as I continued on around the building to a side emergency door.
    "Dispatch to papa, ETA medco, fifteen. Dispatch out."
    "Papa, watcher, open." The door opened and a young FIS agent gave me the all clear signal. I hurried my companion along to an open service elevator and started up. Before the door closed Kostja stuck his hand inside.
    "I am on my way up to your suite, may I ride with you?" I stepped aside and let him enter the car. He ran his eyes over the boy and twitched his nose, but his eyes were speaking volumes. I may be premature in my thinking about the manservant after all.
    "Cory," I spoke as both boys looked at me.
    "Hey dad, where are you?"
    "Cory, I am in the house, apartment six with a friend."
    "Sarah saw a baby layette so we are shopping. Enjoy yourself." He giggled as the line went dead. I had two boys looking at me as if I were demented. I sometimes believe that I am, I had no business bringing either of these two boys around my family at the time. And I probably should never take in a prostitute that I know for fact had been taking it up the ass from strangers for three years.
    As the elevator door opened I saw a streak of naked boy flesh dash by. I stepped out of the car to see Roddy with his head and one arm in a pull over shirt with a pair of shorts in his still naked arm. "Put your pants on, faggot." I got a sweet tush waved at me as he made his way into the guest room.
    RD was laughing at his little brother as he told me that the electronic lock would not admit them so they had returned to the apartment for a key. I would have Jimmy take care of that later, at the time I had a story to hear and a hungry boy to wash and feed.
    RD led the way as we all headed to the empty apartment that I used as a guest room. It was a single room guestroom like the one that I had placed Fred Mabry and Tomas Jensen in the day before. I have two of that size rooms on my floor, who knows who will drop in?
    I led my guest straight to the large bathroom and stepped away from him. Kostja was to my right as he faced the boy, he licked his lips and he had a large bump growing in the front of his pants. I had misjudged him.
    "Undress…excuse me, I forgot to ask your name." Suddenly I felt like a real jerk. I didn't have sex with this boy during my previous encounter with him, but I had been sitting with him in the park for fifteen minutes and I had held his hand as I dragged him across the street and up to the forty second floor of a hotel and there I was ordering the other boys to undress him.
    "Huh?" I looked around the room to see what was wrong.
    "No, G sir. That's what I's callt. My name's Garth, but dey calls me Big G."
    I smiled at him, "Okay boys undress Big G. Mr. Valet, would you help?"
    "I would like to do my job sir, I will undress the young gentleman." He puffed out his chest and moved forward. I watched his face carefully. I saw deep desire, I saw lust, I saw disgust. G needed a bath more than any boy that I have ever taken in, but his clothing was disgusting. Kostja handled it with the very tips of his fingers, I was tempted to ask him if he might want a pair of rubber gloves.
    Roddy was circling the boy as he took in every feature, smell, and…whatever else he was storing in his memory banks. "You smell, dude. He smells daddy."
    "Unless there is a medical reason to prevent it all of us do. That is why God gave us a nose, so that we can smell the wonders of His creation." Roddy twisted up his lips and his face grew red. "I think that what you mean is that he stinks, and I agree. That is why I brought him here, so that he can take a hot bath and be more pleasing to your nose." I touched the end of the turned up facial feature.
    "Why do you do that daddy? You always correct me."
    "Because I want you to be more perfect. You are perfectly beautiful. You are perfectly sweet. You have a perfect timbre to your voice. I want the words that come from you to be as perfect as I think that you are. Bad grammar makes other people think that you are stupid, and you are not. I love you and I want the very best for you."
    "You don't go krectin RD."
    "Oh yes he does. He is always on my case so I pay attention and try not to make so many mistakes. Our dad loves us, and we love him. We should show him our love by being the best that we can be."
    "I ain't joining up with no Army." We all laughed at him. I grabbed him and pulled him close and he looked up at me. I can't resist him, I lifted him up for a deep kiss. That boy's mouth is as sweet tasting as his mom's apple pie.
    I put him down and he turned again to G and bent close to his five and a half inch, very thick cut cock. "Pee yewy, I ain't sucking that thing till it gets a washing."
    As the boys unveiled Big G I stepped into the other room to use the house phone. I called room service and ordered a vegetable tray and a half dozen steak fingers, with lots of cocktail sauce. I paid ten thousand dollars to a small chain restaurant for their recipe for steak fingers. They aren't anything special, but I was having them served in a first class hotel on the other side of the country and did not want someone suing the hotel for any sort of infringement.
    I had really made points with the owner of the small chain. I had flown in a chef from the hotel to learn the recipe and preparations techniques first hand. To be sure that it was understood I asked the chef to work alongside the owner to prepare nine hundred of the half inch wide and thick, by four inch long strips of sirloin that are breaded and deep fried. There are sizes of the delicacy offered by the chain of stores, the Momma and the Pappa, each having more of the steak strips. Our favorite is the eighteen steak finger Family Size meal that includes a pint of cole slaw, a pound of french fries, and five thick slices of garlic toast. A meal that my boys constantly crave.
    I had called the house during the preparation and asked for someone to join me at the restaurant and return the hot food to the family, Tim and Jerry had shown up. Our family was much smaller in those days, but they could still out eat an army on the march.
    I asked room service to send a half gallon of milk and a pot of coffee then, as an afterthought, asked for a slice of apple pie. G was dirty and skinny, but he was a boy who had not eaten for a few days. Even if he had eaten his teenage metabolism would be able to process the consummation of mass quantities.

    I had called RD so that he could assist me and make G feel more at ease, I had not planned on having Kostja in the mix, now I had too many boys. The ringing of the doorbell made everyone turn, RD ran to answer the door and came back with a young man in uniform. He saluted me then set about his task. I told him that I wanted a complete and total work up.
    The young medic placed his bag on the lavatory counter and started to work. He took out a pair of scissors and clipped the ends of G's hair in several places. He even clipped some cock hair, which made the boy jump back. He took finger nail and toe nail clips then he took a cotton swab and ran it around the inside of G's mouth. Next he made the boy uncomfortable.
    I know that the boy likes a big dick up his ass, I watched him react to Chrisy when we visited in January of 2005. I have had a DRE—digital rectal exam—from my doctor a few times and it is not pleasant. It is not sexual so I guess that is why it makes a man nervous to have a gloved finger shoved up his ass and wiggled around. G was showing his discomfort, but his eyes widened when the medic produced a long metal tube and slathered it with a lubricant.
    I have seen some of the boys undergo a cotton swab up his ass, but never something like that examination. The medic explained that with boys that had multiple partners invade his rectum a deep tissue exam was necessary. The word tissue bothered me and I asked if he was going to cut tissue from the inside of G's rectum. His eyes widened and he apologized for the use of the wrong word. He was going to swab as deep inside the boy's anus as he could reach. A cotton swab on the end of a long wooden stick could break and tear through the tender tissue so he was using the tube with the swab sticking out of a hole at the end. When he had penetrated as deeply as he could go, without forcing the tube past any natural bends, he would extend the swab to retrieve his sample by wiping the cotton on the wall of the intestine. He was looking for a bacteria count and type from the deep regions where sexual contact ended.
    I could understand that. The metal tube was a good fifteen inches long and the thin wooden shaft of the swab extended another six inches from that. It could easily break. The medic explained that the procedure is done in an examination room with other equipment, but in the field he used whatever he could to get the job done without danger to his patient.
    There was one more part to go. The medic swabbed G's soft cock with two alcohol wipes then passed him a small beaker and asked for a urine sample. G blushed as he moved in front of the toilet. The medic was right alongside of him as he explained that G should not touch the inside of the container with his penis. He told his patient that he was checking for any infection inside the body.
    That accomplished the medic looked at me, "Complete, sir?" I nodded. "Alright young man, I need your semen in this dish." He held up a four inch diameter glass dish like I have seen in the doctor's office before.
    "You mean thet I got ta…"
    "I can help you," Kostja showed me the final part of my question about him. He is gay, but seriously repressed. I knew that he would make a great addition to the family.
    G looked at Kostja and smiled. His cock was filling out to a nice five and a half inches with a dark circumcision scar an inch down the shaft from his tasty looking business center. Kostja reached over and encircled the meat stick and slowly stroked it, dry. Roddy ran from the room then quickly returned with a bottle of our family's favorite lubricant in his hand.
    I made a bold move, "Since this is in the interest of medicine you are only assisting the doctor. However, you could stroke all night long if you don't get some feeling into it. We all know that G has been on the street for several days and needs a bath, that he will get after the doc is finished. In order for the doc to get his specimen you need to hurry things along…"
    Kostja grinned at me and dropped to his knees. He began to bob on the cock like a starving calf seeking the cream. I was going to suggest that Kostja lean in closer and tighten his grip and that the lube be applied. I liked the way Kostja took to his job much better. I sat on the lavatory counter and watched both faces. Kostja was a dichotomy of facial features, but lust and deep desire seemed to be deeply etched on his face.
    G tossed his head back and thrust his pelvis forward as he let his thoughts run toward his pending orgasm. He opened his eyes, "I am about to cum." Kostja moved aside so that the medic could hold the small dish in front of the boy's penis as Kostja aimed his handful at the target. Kostja milked every drop from the boy until the medic patted him on top of the head and pulled the dish away. Kostja quickly returned to his duty and suckled G for anything that he might want to give up.
    All of us took a look at the issue. It was thicker than I would have expected with a nice pearly color. There was a large amount and the smell was stiffening. I know enough about males that I could tell that I was looking at several days of build up. All of us turned to look as G let out a loud groan and fucked hard into Kostja's mouth as he dumped another load of cream as a reward for a job well done.

    The medic told us that he had all that he needed as he put his specimens away and picked up his bag. I looked at him and asked if he needed help with his tent pole. He looked at the boys then told me that his partner was in the lobby waiting for him. They had reservations at a dinner theater in the village. I asked him what was playing and he told me that it was a beautiful story about a young street boy that found a home with a loving man.
    That evening would make the seventh time that he and his partner had seen the play. He took on a look of one in love when he told me that the boy playing the lead was a fourteen year old sensation. As I walked with him to the door I asked him if he wanted to take the boy home. He told me that his dream was to rescue a boy like his boss was known to do. He and his partner want to be foster fathers to a gay boy, not for sex, but to give the boy a decent chance at life. He told me that his job and freedom meant a lot to him so he would have to be very careful with underage boys. I will see what Andy has on the man and see if maybe I can help him find his dream.

    I told G to take a shit. He blushed and I pointed at the toilet. He moved over and sat down with Kostja at his side. I told RD that I wanted him to go shopping before all of the stores closed for the weekend. There are two stores near the hotel where the boys find their favorite clothing and there was still time before closing. Even on a Saturday night New York City has something to offer a late shopper.
    Everything that Kostja had was dumped from his bags onto the bathroom floor. It was a tattered and smelly mess with nothing worth saving. That was not my call and I would let Garth sort through the pile himself, he might have a few hundred dollar bills stuffed in the pockets of the clothes.
    I handed RD a special credit card while Kostja washed his hands and face. Roddy was pure excitement as I assured him that his brother needed his help to find everything that G would need to wear. The boys left for their assignment and I stepped into the bedroom to remove my clothes. Upon reentering the bathroom I reached across to do a flush at the toilet, then I waved my hand before my face. G grinned at me.
    The hotel keeps cans of rose scented air freshener in the bathrooms so I used a squirt. We all make jokes about arranging flowers in the bathroom when we smell the spray. That always causes the person coming from the bathroom to blush. G was down to the paperwork, I took his hand and tugged him toward the shower. He pushed the flush button on the toilet before following me.
    All of my showers are equipped with hand held shower heads as well as three stationary heads on the walls, one up, one down, and one in the middle. I grabbed the hand held and aimed a strong stream at G's ass crack. He bent forward and spread his cheeks and I saw a well used hole, cute but well used.
    The air began to smell like a piney forest as I soaped the boy from head to toe and lathered his shaggy black hair with my favorite shampoo. I have told you that I have the shampoo made for me, but with so many different hair types in the household there have been some changes made. Of course we now have a choice of shampoo for oily scalps and one for dry scalps, but the big change came with the addition of a conditioner. We are men and don't want to stand around conditioning our hair, a quick shampoo and we are finished. Now every young head has soft, fine hair with a sheen of health about it.
    I turned the water off and led G from the shower to the hot tub full of bubbling suds. The shower had added to the steam of the room and the mirrors were completely fogged over. I flipped the switch that I knew I should have turned on before, I was too lusty to think straight. When my member goes straight my brain moves to the smaller head and all regular thinking is set aside as lustful thoughts take over.
    Every mirror in every bathroom that I own is equipped with a surrounding frame that sends warm air across the glass, much like the defroster on a car's windshield. The exhaust fan in the ceiling does not always prevent the cool glass from condensing the water vapor and fog builds up blocking my view.
    Okay, so I am a little narcissistic, I always check myself in the mirror. I get a thrill at seeing my own cock at every stage of the game. I live with a houseful of beautiful boys that love to run naked as often as they can. I see their cocks shrink up so small that only the head itself peeks out of their flat bellies. I see every boy at every stage of softness to hardness, and with a mirror, I can see myself at various stages.
    My main interest in a clear bathroom mirror is a bit more devious than that. I truly enjoying seeing the boy that I am with from many different angles. I have a few bathrooms that are totally covered with mirrors, even the floor and ceiling. The bathroom that G and I were in has a long mirror on the walls over the lavatory and one on the wall over the tub. I was behind G watching his pert ass step into the hot tub and watching his stiffened cock swing in front of him as I caught the second view in the mirror before us.
    We sat at opposite sides of the tub and stared at each other. I knew that the boy would open up to me when he was ready, for the time being I would remain quiet and wait. "Why did that doctor do that stuff to me?"
    "I want to be sure that you are healthy and hearty. Life on the street is tough. I know that you have not been eating properly, you don't bathe regularly and you probably don't brush your teeth very often. Those things can cause you to get very sick, also there is your occupation." I sat back and watched him. My periscope was peeking above the water and I shifted very slightly to let it rise even higher. G kept a steady gaze on it.
    "Sharky, loved the fuckin what ya give 'em. He wuz all like, 'I gotta get dat ting gin up in me.' He toined his tricks, but he always looked fer dem big cocks and if some dude had a bigun Sharky wanted it in 'em. He even let some dudes do 'em for free just so dat he could get it. He tell me dat he never got no feel like ya give 'em and I kinda knows whut he wuz saying cuz that little kid whut wuz wid you give me da best fucking I ever got.
    "Sharky wuz crazy dough. He didn't make everybody wrap up. If a dude had a bigun he wanted it, he got the sickness last year. Dat never stopped 'em dough, if a dude was hung he had ta git it up in 'em." He was in a deep memory and the tears returned. I motioned him to move to my side where he cuddled into me and sniffled.
    "Where's Sharky now?"
    "Dey kilt 'em. He was protecting me, but de faggots kilt 'em. We wuz leaving the park and this one dude that cums round every few days ta get his tiny cock sucked stepped out of the woods wid tree o' his friends. He goes like, 'Dems de cocksuckers dat I teld ya 'bout. Dat big guy makes da little one suck cocks cuz he likes ta suck and he wants ta make the kid queer like 'emself.'
    "Dat made Sharky mad and he went after the kid whut knocked him down and started ta kick 'em. De other boys started ta kick 'em too, den this little kid came ta me and hit me in the balls den in the gut and I fell down and didn't wake up for a long time.
    "It wuz cold and I wuz scart. I looked round for Sharky and saw 'em up in the grass so I went ta 'em. He wuz hurt bad so I found a copper and tole 'em and he had da doc men come take Sharky away. Dey wudn't let me into see 'em till I told 'em dat he was my brudder whut I lived wid and dat he had ta door key so dat I couldn't get ta my bed.
    "Dey let me go see 'em and he looked bad. He calls me up close like and tells me dat he is dying and dat I got ta go on. I cried and he put his hand on my head and tole me dat he loved me den he died. While de doc people wuz running around I slipt out and some lady tole me dat I got ta do some papers fer her so I said "okay" and went ta da can. I looked out da door and da hallway wuz clear so I ran ta the exit door and ran down the stairs and home.
    "Da landlord wuz all up in my face as he said dat he want his rent and shit. I told 'em dat Sharky had the money and dat he wud be home in a few hours. Da landlord wudn't let me in da building so I told 'em dat I wud suck his cock if I cud go up ta my room and eat some food.
    "He is a big, fat bastard and he stinks like grease and cigarettes but I pushed his skin back and wiped his cock wid my shirt and sucked him. His shit tastes all nasty and Sharky and me never liked ta do 'em, but sometimes we cudn't pay de rent on time and we cud get by for a few hours by doing da shithead." He curled up close to me and I let him rest.
    He didn't want to rest, he was eyeballing my stiffness. He wrapped his hand around it and moaned. "How big is it?" I told him and he moaned again. He stood up and moved his legs to each side of me. I probably should have stopped him, but I told you that my brain had moved to its southern home and only thought of sex with the boy.
    Garth faced me as he slid down my cock with a smile on his young face. He grimaced a few times before he settled down fully on me. He leaned forward and rested his head on my chest. I realized that I had just put my entire family at risk, I don't know if the boy is clean or not, I was willing to bet not. I knew that my dick was without any sores or wounds so I rationalized that if I didn't fuck G and tear any skin that I would be safe for the time being.
    "That is wut a cock should be. Fuck me, please?"
    "G, I am a cum pig. I want to suck your cock as soon as you build up a load. I want to get in bed with you and suck you all night long. Can we do that."
    "All night? Can I spend the whole night wid ya? I ain't never spent no night in bed wid nobody cept Sharky. We doun do much sex, we just hold each udder and sleep together. I always want ta sleep with a big cock in my face while some dude has his face near mine." I kissed him, I had to get him a toothbrush. I swear that I tasted his dinner from two weeks back, and it was rotten.
    "I lost something back there, G. After the landlord let you into your room what did you do?"
    "Whut cud ah do? I packed my shit and slipped away as quiet as a lidle mouse. I looked around and knew dat we didn't have much, but ah took it all. I stuffed my money…"
    I felt his body tense at that so I wrapped my arms around him and kissed him on the back of the neck, "It is your money and it is safe. I will help you put it where you can get it at anytime that you wish, where nobody can ever steal it from you." I rubbed his thin belly and felt the bones of his chest. I let my hands continue to roam and felt the other bone and he shuddered then laid his head back against me.
    "How old are you Garth?"
    "Ah's almost sixteen."
    "When is your birthday?"
    "Ah tink it's in January so dat's when Sharky gets me sumptin special. You and dat kid were me special gift dat one time."
    "That day in the park was your twelfth birthday?" I was adding things up and they were coming up in the minus column.
    I picked my way through a familiar tale with a small twist to it. "Do you have a last name G? Where did you live?"
    "Yeah, it's Dbnee. Queer name huh? I live up Ahlbnee, least done so afore."
    "G, why did you leave home?"
    His mother found him in the underlying position to his father's sexual dominance, a position he had gladly occupied since his seventh birthday when his older brother left home without a word to anyone. Garth was locked in his room and not allowed to see anyone except the old servant that brought him his food each day. He had no idea how long he was locked in the room, but knew that it had to be a Monday that he made his escape. The house staff changed linens throughout the house on each Monday so he had hidden in his closet. As he hoped, his door was left ajar and when the women were changing his bedding he slipped away unnoticed. He was eleven years old.
    I lay back and let sleep come to both of us as the bubbles swirled around our bodies. I fondled his ass and rubbed his back and awakened with each hand holding a firm globe. I looked at the clock on the wall and saw that we had been in the tub about a half an hour, we would be turning to prunes. I awakened G and lifted him from my stiff cock. I stuck my fingers up inside his ass and felt around as I listened to his moans. "Ahhhh, dat feels good, ah needs a fuck, bad."
    I climbed out of the tub and reached for a large towel to wrap around myself then took another towel and held it open for G to step into. I wrapped it about him then led him to the lavatory. I opened a drawer and pulled out a new toothbrush and unwrapped it. G watched my every move as I opened a second toothbrush and found a tube of toothpaste.
    G and I faced each other as he mimicked my actions to clean every surface of his teeth with the brush, two minutes to each of four quadrants. Maybe a little too long, but if you had tasted the kid's mouth you would want to spend the time yourself. In all honesty Garth is not much in the looks department. He appeared to be much younger than what I had thought one night in the park three and a quarter years earlier.
    In my defense I will tell you that it was mid-January in New York, not a warm season. The boys were open for business, but they were bundled against the icy wind. With several layers of heavy clothing on, and a hood over his head to boot, it is difficult to determine just what attributes a boy has. At the time I was more interested in the boy bent before me. I could tell that he was eighteen or so because of his hairy ass and thighs. As I think about that evening I breathe a sigh of release, I did not molest a child. Chrisy was fifteen at the time so there could be something said about him having sex with a boy on his twelfth birthday. I seriously doubt that Garth will ever bring that to the attention of the law.
    Garth's body was that of an undeveloped pubescent. He had some natural muscle tone under his pasty white skin, but very little body fat. He wasn't as skinny as I might have expected, but by no means was he a picture of health. His ass was round, almost feminine. More than half of the boys in my care have two little bread loves resting on their backsides. Others have two melon halves waiting to be squeezed, very few have round butts. I wondered what a good workout routine would do for Garth.
    I led the boy over to the bed and lay down with him just as the door opened and boys laden with packages filed inside. Arriving at almost the same time was a waiter with food for my young guest. Garth was torn between looking at the clothing that had been bought for him and consuming the food. I had to constantly direct him to the food, but had to constrain him to eat slowly.
    I had promised the boy that I would fulfill his fantasy of spending the night with him, however I wondered if maybe there was another that would like to spend time in the rack with the street urchin. I moved out to the balcony and let the boys do what boys do best, talk and eat. I made a phone call to the kitchen for a rush order on more pie and asked them to make it ala mode with a scoop in a bowl to add to Garth's slice of pie. Next I made a call that I hoped would buy me a little time.
    Cory was seated in the shadows and had deliberately hidden from me until I was close to him. I wanted to see him, yet I wanted to avoid him. I knew how he would react. He loves me and he knows of my need to offer a life-line to desperate boys. He gets upset with me when I try to become too involved with them. It is not so much the sex, he enjoys that part with a new boy whenever he can. He thinks that I should find the boys and let the systems that we have in place do the rest. It is not in my nature to find a boy then turn away from him.
    I have had to do that with the boys coming in from the various state's agencies that are beginning to utilize the school. I have had to let the system deal with the street boys; I just can't fuck them all right off the bat. I will get with any or all of them as they are ready for that personal touch, but I am learning to hold back and not rush them.
    Cory listened to my phone call, but he had news for me that Mic also revealed. When I finished my call I let Cory tell me a few details then I called Edmund. Edmund was at the airport waiting for his flight to Albany, his nephew, Vito the fourth, had been in a serious car accident. Vito's wife was killed instantly and he was not expected to survive. Edmund reminded me that he is the god-father to Antonio and Paulo Farraci.
    Edmund was apologetic for neglecting his duties to my family. I assured him that I would be more upset were he to neglect his duties to his family. I told him that we had adequate supervision in place with the older boys that had been with me for a few years and that I did not expect the house to fall down. Besides that I was flying home the following day.
    I apologized to Edmund though. It was not a good time to tell him about my plans for Garth Dabny, but I didn't want him to walk into a situation blind. Edmund has a long interest in Empire Canal and he does own his own piece of it with the apartment that he has called home for most of his life. Things always happen to me that sit me on my ass and this was another one.
    Hillary Carpenter had worried herself sick over the disappearance of her grandnephew. Garth's mother is of the Albany Dabnys. She could trace her lineage back to when a man by the name of John Dabny migrated into the area in the early 1800s. Her ancestor married into a prominent merchant family in the region and became a business partner with the bride's father, Hillary's great grandfather.
    Children of both families married over time, intertwining the bloodline to the point that Garth's mother was the niece of Hillary by a half brother born to Hillary's mother when she was a young teenage girl. The newborn baby boy was given up to the father and the Dabny family. Meanwhile Hillary's mother grew up and started her life in high society.
    Hillary's half brother was accepted by his father's family, the Dabnys. He grew up to father twelve children, one being the father of Garth's mother. Garth's mother was proud of her family name and refused to relinquish it. Garth's father was a weak man in the woman's eyes and she ran him off. He died in a bottle when he was thirty nine, two weeks before Garth's sixth birthday.
    Edmund told me that there was more to his story, but his plane was starting to board and he would have to get back to me. I wished him a safe trip and turned to look at Cory. He smiled at me and told me to go take care of my new friend. I had to pull him to his feet and stick my tongue deep into his throat first. I love Cory with all of my heart, yet I still prowl. I fully understand married men with roving eyes, that isn't right. We marry for better or for worse, we should be faithful. I am a hypocrite.

    My life is much like Einstein's law of gravity as defined in his Theory of Relativity. Sir Isaac Newton wrote in his law of gravity that a gravitational field pulled things to the ground. Einstein disproved that and shows us that space is pushing us to the ground. The earth is in orbit about the sun, not because the sun's gravity keeps us in place, but because space holds us against the sun. Henceforth, space pushes us against the earth. I always wondered why drunks fall down.
    I realize that I am not drawn to boys, but pushed to them by the forces that shape my life. I cannot not help a boy, for whatever reason until I am drawn to them. I am drawn to a lot of boys, but only a few are drawn to me. Those are the boys that I can help. My favorite passion is to help them to hundreds of orgasms, with me there to receive.

    I removed my throat mic and sound bud. That in itself is a trick because of the mild glue that keeps it attached behind my right ear. I passed my communications link to Cory as he watched with intense interest. He knows that when I remove my link to the world that I am serious about being left alone. His face was a study, but he had already told me to go take care of Garth. I kissed him goodnight and returned to the guestroom via the long balcony patio.
    I found four happy boys sitting on the bed naked, my favorite scene. Garth was animated as he joined the conversation of the others. I stood back from the door so that I could still see them and listened to their boy banter. RD was sitting where he could see me and he smiled at me. I was especially happy to hear Kostja's banter, he may be okay. I am seldom wrong about a boy, but Kostja was sending mixed signals that had me concerned. He did not miss a chance to place his hands on Garth and he hugged the boy as well. The reserve that I had seen in him early on may only have been the newness of a foreign situation. I will have to spend a night with him to learn more. For now I had promised Garth my undivided attention for the entire night.
    I took Kostja aside and asked him what he wanted to talk to me about. He told me that he and his great grandmother talked for a few minutes in the limo then he got out and walked around for fifteen or twenty minutes. He had made his decision and he didn't want to wait to let me know about it.
    I asked him about his immediate plans for the evening. He looked at the bed and blushed. "You're going to think that I am a fag. I want RD to fuck me with that huge dick of his. I have to be home before ten or my dad will lock the door and there will be all kinds of hell to pay tomorrow. But do you think that…?" Yeah, I thought that. I called RD to come and talk to us.
    Kostja is a walking, talking piece of art work sculpted by the hands of a master. If sheer beauty were an assurance of one's sexual prowess there would be a lot of very horny, ugly people on the planet. However, we are a carnal species. Just like food, if it doesn't look good we don't believe it will taste good. Sex is mainly fantasy. Even in the deep throes of sexual orgasm our minds turn to our fantasies to give us a full release. We may be fantasizing about the one that we are with, but the mind has to get itself involved.
    Even the super straight boy that lets the little fag boy suck his cock has his fantasies. He may be totally disgusted by the act being performed on him and he may beat the little fag boy up when it is done. Yet to get his nut he will use whatever method available as he lets his mind create a more enjoyable scenario.
    Kostja had not responded to me in anyway that showed me that he was sexually motivated. If beauty is the key then Kostja and RD were in for one wild time. Both boys were up and ready as they took in every feature of the other. I told RD to lead Kostja to his bed and to be sure that the boy was dressed and gone in time to return to his home.
    I picked Roddy up and kissed him as I kneaded his firm glutes. I can hardly believe that I lust after such a tiny boy. I pray that I don't get this lustful after my baby and the new baby that is just over three months from making his appearance to the world.
    I told Roddy that Cory was sitting on the patio and that he was lonesome. I asked him if he would comfort my man for the night. Roddy was out of the door in a flash. I looked about the room at the carnage left behind. The boys had purchased enough clothing for Kostja to get him through the remainder of the summer. If what I had planned for the boy came together we could worry about school clothes in another month or two.
    I smiled at a very anxious looking boy that had not removed his eyes from me since Roddy and I had kissed. I moved a few things away for a clear path to the door and another to the bathroom, then turned off all extra lights.
    I was only partially on my back when I was covered in hungry boy kisses. I reached to the bedside table to make sure that the large box of condoms was in comfortable reach and turned off the light.

Carl Dickson suffered a heart attack on November 28 of 2008. Chapters 178 through 190 are chapters that he had already finished or at least had far enough along that we were able to use his notes to create an interesting chapter for you to read.
We are sorry for the choppiness and incompleteness of some of his thoughts, but we submit this effort in his behalf to you, his favorite person, his reader.

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