Date: Sat, 4 Oct 2008 01:04:05 -0500 From: Tony Beilsenson Subject: Trevor's Mustang part 1 DISCLAIMER This is a work of fiction, the places, people and situations depicted are not real. This story involves a 28 year old male enticing young teenage males into consensual sexual activities. If such subject matter is illegal where you live or if you are offended by it, do not read it. TREVOR'S MUSTANG, PART 1 The sun had just set for the night, and as the twilight darkened and Trevor steered his midnight blue Mustang down one of the hundreds of low-income mixed race neighborhoods in his native Los Angeles, he started to get that familiar feeling. It's not so much that he was particularly cruising, more that he wasn't really ever not cruising. He was always keeping his eyes out for some action. That's why there was a six-pack of unopened malt liquor under a black towel behind his bucket seat, safely out of sight if he got stopped for speeding, but within easy reach if he found what he was looking for. The right front pocket of his jeans contained his usual mix of cash: a few fives, tens and twenties, whatever he could spare for his favorite activity. At 28 he still looked like a college kid, and knew how to use his youthful appearance and hot sports car to make a boy on a skateboard or bike feel at ease talking to him and accepting a few sips of Trevor's beer. Air horns blasted as his rear-view mirror filled with whirling red lights, and he pulled over for a couple of fire engines racing to some emergency across town. As he pulled smoothly back into traffic, Trevor spotted three white boys around 13 or 14 on cheap bikes weaving through the cars on the opposite side of the boulevard. He knew the type: shaggy long hair, black t-shirts emblazoned with the names of death metal bands, tight jeans, and black sneakers, each smoking a cigarette, each with a vocabulary that consisted mostly of profanity and immature names for the portions of the female anatomy their adolescent dicks liked best. Trev slipped his cell phone out of his pocket and snapped a quick photo of the three as the bikes sailed by. Watching them in his mirror as he passed, Trevor saw the three bicycles dart down a side street into what he knew was a cheap white-trash neighborhood of short streets that dead-ended against the railroad tracks. Poor man's cul-de-sac, they were called, but right now Trev was more interested in the poor man's sons and where they were headed on their bikes. The mini traffic jam the fire engines had caused was breaking up, and Trev was able to duck into a left-turn lane, swing the Mustang around and backtrack to the same side street. The street was dark but after a minute he spotted them, standing up on the pedals as they flew in formation down the row of parked cars on the left side. If anybody opened a car door they'd be dog meat, but luckily no one did. As he got closer, they turned and shot down one of the dead-ends toward the tracks. At least one of them probably lived down that row, exactly what Trev was hoping for as it would make them easy to find. He craned his neck to read the street sign as he passed: Quartz. He thumbed a button on his cell and left himself a one-word voice mail so he wouldn't forget. Noticing a large empty parking lot on his left, Trev wheeled the Mustang in to turn around and take a cruise down Quartz, but slowed when he spotted an easier score. Two Mexican boys around 12 or 13 were skateboarding in the lot, and as one went awkwardly airborne attempting a move called an ollie, the other put his hand up under his t-shirt exposing his caramel brown stomach and a nice outie belly button. Trev had never understood why Mexican boys did that so often, but he always enjoyed the little show he got when they did. The lot was dark and the houses were facing the side street, so it was reasonably secluded. Both boys checked out the Mustang and walked over as Trevor drove up. "Nice ride, dude." The boy who had flashed his stomach spoke first, leaning a smooth brown forearm on the windowsill of the driver's door as he leaned down to look inside the car. "Thanks man," Trev answered. Damn, he thought, these two are cute. "Maybe I'll let you drive it sometime." The boy laughed. "You serious?" "Maybe, if you're cool. You guys live around here?" "Yeah," the second boy answered, rolling back and forth slightly on his skateboard with one hand against the car. "Over on Jumilla." Another of the poor man's cul-de-sacs that fronted the railroad. He leaned an arm on the roof of the car and leaned in the window next to his friend. "How old are you guys?" "Both 13." The tummy flasher answered for both of them. Trevor decided to go for it. "You dudes want some beer?" His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "Fuck yeah," the boys whispered back. Trevor reached behind his seat and snapped a can off the six-pack and passed it to his new friends, who greedily popped it open and each took a healthy sip. "What are the kids like around here? Pretty chill?" The flasher leaned in closer. "Yeah, depends what you're lookin' for." His hand slipped up under his t-shirt again and Trevor got a closer look at the boy's gumball-sized outie belly button. His friend passed the can back and he took a good big sip before passing it back. "Could you guys get into makin' some easy money tonight?" "Yeah," they both answered. The awkward skater leaned in and whispered. "We'll both do pretty much anything for money, dude." Trevor took his wad of bills out of his pocket and made sure they both saw it. "I'm a fag, and I like dudes your age." The boys glanced at each other meaningfully for a moment, then the flasher unzipped his fly and pulled out about four inches of soft brown uncut dick, with a long foreskin covering the end. "That what you lookin for?" "Yup." "How much you pay?" The skater leaned in closer. Trevor could still hear the wheels of his skateboard on the asphalt as he rocked gently back and forth. "Twenty-five each to get naked in my car and let me suck your dick." "I'll do it," both boys said almost simultaneously. Score, Trevor said silently to himself. "You know a chill place we could go?" The boys climbed into the Mustang and directed him to an apparently abandoned street between the railroad and the riverbed that Trevor didn't even know existed. The tummy flasher, who introduced himself as Ricky, was in the front seat. The awkward skater, who went by the nickname Lito, sat in the small back seat working on another can of malt liquor. Trevor told the boys his name was Robert. Trevor handed Ricky a twenty and a five, and in seconds the boy's clothes and sneakers were in a haphazard pile on the floor while he sprawled naked in the passenger side bucket seat, his 13 year old body a rich caramel brown from head to toe. A tuft of black pubic hair stood out above his uncut dick and walnut sized balls that hung in a soft hairless sac. When Trevor reclined the passenger seat, the handsome boy spread his legs and looked up at him with an awkward grin. Trevor slipped his right arm around the boy's slender shoulders while feeling up his smooth chest and stomach with his left hand. His chest, shoulders and arms were just starting to show a little definition, and felt firm to Trev's touch. "You've got a really nice bod," he whispered. "Thanks." END OF PART 1 Please send comments, let me know if you're enjoying the story and want more.