Date: Tue, 12 Oct 2010 08:06:11 -0700 (PDT)
From: John Likeness <thelilghost06_nthesarge@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Little Ghost Pt 3

The Little Ghost Pt. 3
Friday Morning Walk & Early Afternoon at the Mall


It's been a long delay for this one, sorry. I hope you enjoy it all the
same. The story is a fictionalized and condensed account of true life
events. To answer a question many of you have asked: no, the Ghost and me
are no longer "we"; I had to get out of the Army--you know what they say
about the second chest wound--Ghost stayed in and went to war with
President Bush; he's still in and we keep in touch sporadically. Remember
to play, but play safe.

Thursday evening we fucked one more time, and then got to know each
other. Ghost was a really talented visual artist: pencil, pen and ink,
pastel, watercolor, and oils, and he plunked around on the guitar. When he
found out I played, he wanted to hear me--I started playing classical
guitar at age 4--I played Antonio Lauro's "Seis por derecho: Joropo" and a
couple of his waltzes that I could remember; I also played Barrios's
"Maxixe" and the "Suite Andina", all of which impressed him immensely, but
what really knocked him out was a solo guitar arrangement of Astor
Piazzolla's tango "Midnight in Buenos Aires." We spent the rest of the
night playing and picking out tunes--he was good and quick to learn, but
his fingers got tired--his second guitar was in pretty decent shape, but it
had metal strings and was set high so it took some work to chord.

We slept together, and both woke up before 6 with serious morning wood; we
kissed and started necking, and soon found ourselves in a cheerful 69, but
before things went too far we suspended operations and adjourned to the
shower. We resumed necking, and soon I sank to my knees and slurped that
mighty 10" of black bone; within minutes he took me on all fours as the hot
water rained down on us--I love being taken from behind--fucking me like a
dog. After our preliminaries neither of us lasted long; he yanked out and
shot his scalding sperm the length of my back--a gob even hit me in the
back of the head--as I poured my nut honey out on the floor of the shower.

We recovered, washed each other off, dried and lotioned each other and
dressed. We then cooked breakfast and played around on the guitars,

"You wanna go for a ride?" he asked later in the morning.

"Sure," I answered.

We got in my truck and headed off. We wound up in a park by the river, and
decided to head up a trail and see what was to be seen. We hiked along for
several minutes and when we paused to look we had climbed several hundred
feet and had a spectacular view of the river below; we sat on a log for a
few minutes, before we turned to each other and started kissing and soon we
were necking, our hands roving over each other and under our clothes. Ghost
broke the kiss,

"I wanna suck your dick," he stated, firmly grasping my package.

"I wouldn't stop you."  He pulled me to my feet as he stood, and guided me
behind a bush just off the trail; lickety-split my jeans were around my
ankles, my dick was in the Ghost's very talented mouth, and I was head
towards Nirvana. He bobbed and slurped and licked and sucked, swirling his
tongue all around my dickhead. He paused for a second and sucked his
fingers to get them wet and inserted them into my waiting ass. He finger
fucked me as he edged me towards orgasm; after several minutes of this
torture I couldn't hold back any longer, and with a low groan, I unloaded
my seed into Ghost's eager mouth. As soon as my orgasm had subsided, he
jumped up and, grabbing my head, forced his tongue into my mouth and
pushing my nut from his tongue to mine. He pulled back and we both
swallowed, I gasped,

"That was the hottest blow job I've ever had! Man! Fuck!"

I pulled my jeans up as I knelt in front of him; despite the devastating
nut I'd just busted, my dick refused to deflate. I fairly ripped his pants
down and engulfed his pride-and-joy taking him down to his pubes on the
first go. I bobbed and swirled my tongue all around the head. He gasped and
cursed above; I pulled off and turned him around and bent him over and dove
tongue first into his super tight pucker; I rapidly lapped and tongue
fucked his hole then spun him back around, I briefly sucked then spit on my
finger and taking his bone back down my throat, I toyed with his entry and
then inserted my middle finger and started message his prostate. Soon my
labors were rewarded with gush after gush after gush of very tasty cock
snot.

"Fuuuuccckkk!" he warbled, and then gasped, "got damn! That was . . . god
damn, Fuuuccckkk!"

"You enjoyed that?" I asked sweetly.

"Yes," he gasped, too winded for repartee.

"Ain't nobody ever played with my ass like that," he explained, "it's
usually sucky sucky to get it hard and fucky fucky `til we both nut. Damn
that was somethin'."

We had recovered enough to head back down the trail; by this time more
people were starting to fill the parking lot, so we headed off to get some
lunch.

We headed across town to the mall; I noted for future reference that a
dirty bookstore was just across the Interstate through an underpass. We
parked and went into the mall headed to the food court and ate like
recovered castaways. It was around noon, and we'd just finished eating and
were about to explore the mall when Ghost's cell went off. I listened to
this side of the conversation and watched as a sour expression took
possession of SPC Baker's face.  He rang off, and looked at me;

"Division HHC just got alerted--that was my squad leader--I got to get
there ASAP for a formation--Fuckin' Stupid--and then we're free. Fuckin'
assholes--it's a fuckin' long weekend. FUCK!"

"Is it post-wide?"

"Nah, just HHC--our First Sergeant and CO are pricks; they do this every
third long weekend--`Because Headquarters personnel are on two hour recall
unless on leave or under special circumstances such as school'--such
fuckin' bullshit!"

"Well that makes up for not going to the woods all the time," I offered,
"Why don't you take my truck, that way I won't go stir crazy an' you can
get in uniform, get there an' get it over with--coo'?"

"Coo'," he responded as I handed him the keys, "I'll call you when I'm
headed back."

"Okay," I said, "hopefully everybody shows up right away."

"Yeah, see ya' in . . . well, see ya'"

I smiled at that and off he went.

I wandered around the mall for a little while seeing what the stores had to
offer, and surreptitiously checking out the guys. After about 20 minutes,
one guy caught my eye; he was a very light skinned brotha with dark brown
freckles across his broad nose, sexy cat-like green eyes, and a shock of
kinky auburn hair in a high-n-tight; he was about 6'1", had broad shoulders
and what looked to be a 28" waist with jeans riding low. We made subtle
signals to each other and he gradually herded me to an isolated restroom on
the upper level of the mall.

Once inside, after assuring we were alone, we stood next to each other at
the urinals and openly checked out each others package. Homey had opened
his pants and hung his shit over the waistband of his boxer--he was
packin'! He had a long pale circumcised wiener with a head the color of a
cherry, with a close cropped dark red bush and a nice, smooth, pale,
hairless nut sac. I got a glimpse of his lower abs as well; dude was cut
like a diamond. I liked what I saw. He must have too, because he directed
me to the handicapped stall, and without putting his dick away, followed me
in and latched the door. He slipped out of his T-shirt and dropped his
pants below his knees and took a step toward me; his arms snaked out and
pulled me to him--his mouth hungrily devoured mine as he tried to wrap his
tongue around my tonsils--one hand gripped my ass; the other tweaked my
nipples.

My mouth and hands were just as busy, as I tongue wrestled with him one
hand explored his taught ass and the other stroked his cock--hard it looked
like an 10" antique ivory tusk with a pink head and an inch or so at the
tip almost the same color as mine--I dropped to my knees and started
working' that bone. He started fucking my mouth, and then pulled out and
spun around presenting me with his gorgeous ass. I split his cheeks with my
tongue and tried to wrap my tongue around his tonsils from there--I
couldn't reach `em, but he appreciated my effort--he turned around and
pulled me to my feet after just a few seconds. Again he devoured my mouth
and sucked my tongue; then he took a turn sucking my dick very competently
and licking and sucking my balls and crotch.

While he was down there he fished a small tube of lotion from his pocket;
when he stood up with it, I knew what time it was,

"You wanna fuck?" I suggested as kissed and licked my way toward his ear.

By way of response, he flipped the lid open and squirted a dollop into his
hand and began to smooth it onto his ivory tool. I took a little and began
to lube and loosen my tunnel of love. When he had finished, we briefly
played tonsil hockey again and then he turned me around--the stall was big
enough to land a helicopter in, and was arranged so that the toilet was
closer to the next stall than it was to the corner--I gripped the grab bars
in the corner and cooed softly as he rubbed that cherry head in my crack;
soon he located his target and lined up on it; he paused for a beat and
then began to press into my guts. I moaned and pushed back against his
intruder, and soon he was buried to the hilt. He paused just a second, took
a firm hold on my hips and then started to fuck at a rapid but pleasant
pace--I started beating my weenie at the same pace; all to quickly, we were
both approaching orgasm. I felt him start to lose rhythm and knew it was
time--I let my nut fly just as he stifled a cry and pumped his load deep in
my ass.

While still inserted in me he took my cell from my shirt pocket and dialed
in his number and called his phone! He then redialed back to my phone as he
pulled out.

"This is Teague. We will do this again," he pronounced speaking for the
first time, leaving a message in my phone lest I forget--AS IF!

Grabbing his shirt, he slipped into the next stall. We cleaned up in
silence and before I could flush he was gone. I glanced at my watch--it was
1242--quick but satisfying.

I did a leisurely circuit of the mall, and was just starting on one more
when I got a call--it was Baker--the gist of our conversation was that two
or three individuals hadn't shown up yet and his 1SG and CO were going to
hold the rest of the company until they finally showed up, and it was
"gonna be a while" before they were released. I told him I was cool with
it, and besides there was nothing I could do about it so . . . Why get
worked up. He seemed to relax a little at that, and with a sigh, hung
up. It was 1300.

I was now at loose ends, so I sat down; I'd noted quite a few hotties, but
all of them seemed to be with their wives or girlfriends, or they were
traveling in groups of three or more; I glanced at my watch again, it was
1330--the thought of the dirty bookstore came unbidden to the fore of my
mind--I was just about to decamp when I saw a Latin looking young man
saunter past. Just for fun, I decided to follow him--not pressing or
obvious--just going the same direction he was.

As I followed, I inventoried what I saw: tall, over six foot, slim, surely
not a hundred and forty pounds; longish black hair, dark eyes, pencil thin
mustache, handsome face, olive skin, and nearly perfect white teeth (he
smiled and grinned a lot). The front of his black denim jeans showed
promise--the back remained something of a mystery as they sagged low and
the voluminous red T-shirt obscured a clear view. I continued to follow
seemingly unobserved, until he ducked into a book store; when I followed,
he was waiting for me at the back of the shop; while I pretended to be
looking intently for something in the "women's health" rack, he quietly
cleared his throat to get my attention; I looked over, as he looked at me,
I saw his hands move so I glanced down--he had his uncut dick and balls in
one hand and held up his pants with his other. I looked back at face and
licked the drool from the corner of my mouth--

"Follow me if you want it," he breathed as he passed me to leave the store.

I followed--what else was I gonna do?--as he led me to a maintenance
doorway; with a key, he opened the door and motioned for me to follow--I
ducked in behind him as he locked the door back,

"¿Hay camaras volver aqui mi amigo?" (Are there cameras back here my
friend?) I asked in Spanish as we walked down the hallway.

"Not back here," he explained in English, "I work here part-time n know all
the security guys--this is the only area of the mall that's not covered,"
we stopped walking, "now, if you'll step into my office," he said as he
gestured into the doorway where we'd stopped. I went into a small store
room and glanced around; it held what looked to be window washer's gear, a
couple of old office chairs, a desk, and a broken down old couch.

I turned back to hombre, and watched as he stripped off his T-shirt; he had
nice abs and a sinewy chest with just a hint of definition, and the same
for his arms. I dove for his right nipple and attached myself to it like a
tick; when I started to kiss my way up to his neck something in the way he
moved said, very definitively, `I don't kiss guys'. I shrugged and worked
my way down to his navel, and then yanked his pants and boxers down. A very
nice, very hard uncut 6-6 ½" dick greeted me. I peeled the foreskin back
and slurped the exposed head into my welcoming mouth; I then sucked up and
down the length of it briefly, and then flipped it up and lavished his
hairless sac with my tongue sucking each and then both into my mouth; I
then lapped into his crotch--

"Hold up," he said, kicked off his shoes and stepped out of his pants and
boxers; he turned to me and said, "Get outta the threads," I scurried to
comply. Then he stepped over to the couch, I took note of the elaborate
black work tramp stamp over his tail bone "Eat my ass," he demanded as he
kneeled on the cushions and draped his upper body across the arm and thrust
his pert little ass out. I started to work; first lapping his hole, and
then sucking it--he moaned like a $3 hooker--then I started tongue fucking
his tight pucker. He steadily pushed himself back onto my tongue, so he
could look between his legs,

"Stroke your dick man--show Luis you like it--stroke that fuckin' dick."

I complied.

"I'm `bout ta nut man--"

"Permitanme a tragar su jugo de mi amigo," (Let me swallow your juice) I
said as I extracted my face from his ass.

"Lie back on the couch--scootch down more," he instructed, again in
English. As I lay face up, he slid back and sat his slick butt on my chest;
I raised my head and sucked his dick.

"Oh yeah that's it man, suck that dick," he enthused, then drew himself
back and raised up slightly, "Take my nuts dude," he cooed. "I wanna sit on
you face; I'll pull back and nut in your mouth, okay?"

In an instant his hole was centered over my mouth and I did everything I
could to lick the back of his eyeballs from there. Soon enough I heard him
say, "Here it comes," as he pulled himself back and put his dick to my
mouth; I opened up and felt five then six jets of hot salsa rope across my
tongue. I then too the head of his dick into my mouth and milked the last
of the juice from his stalk. He sighed contentedly then said,

"You ain't nut man?"

"It's cool," I responded, "It takes a little while sometimes; no biggie."

"I gotta be someplace"--he glanced at his watch--"in two minutes, but if
you hang out I'll be back in a short-short; I'll find you n we can get
biz-zay."

We had started to redress: I already had my pants back on and had my shirt
in my hand when he gestured for me to pass him his pants, as I did so, his
wallet fell out of his pocket; I handed him his pants then stooped down and
retrieved his wallet--in the ID window on top was a HIGH SCHOOL ID card!--

"You're in high school?" I asked, my voice rising a little.

"Yeah, but it's cool--I'm past my 16th birthday," he responded with
polished nonchalance.

"I don't know ki- . . . uh . . .  Dude."

For the second time today, a relative stranger took my phone to call their
own number and then Luis called my phone back and left his name. By this
time we were dressed and nearing the door, Luis swooped in and kissed me,

"Don't worry Papi--it's okay, 16 is the age of consent here--you're safe,"
with an exaggerated Latino accent.

He smiled then and opened the door. I exited and went one way and Luis
headed off in the other. That had been too close for comfort; I decided no
matter what i saw, I was heading to the dirty bookstore at least in there
everybody was 18 or older. It was about 1415 when I headed out across the
parking lot. I was nearing the sidewalk when my cell rang--it was Baker
again,

"Sup?" I said by way of answer.

"Yo, the missing dickheads haven't showed yet," he grumbled.

"The team chiefs are in with Top tryna' get him to release us--I heard `em
yellin' at each other--in the mean time, we sit, dick in hand, and wait."

"I'm cool, Homes. Its okay, I can chill `til you get here, but . . . "

"But what?"

"But, I reserve the right to rape you and make you cum until you're relaxed
again."

"I can sure deal with that," he replied with a smile obvious in his voice.

"I'll see you when I can see you naked."

"I will hold you to that!"

"Out."

"Out," he replied, and hung up.

I reached the sidewalk and headed under the freeway and then down the alley
behind the bookstore. The alley itself was what had been the road before
the freeway went through; the neighborhood was what you'd expect--the
border between an industrial area and poor residential area--dirt and trash
everywhere; sidewalk and streets in rough shape; high-rise housing projects
close by. As I approached the back door I observed a number of men--mostly
younger and predominantly black--hanging out; smoking and staring at me and
each other. There were three way in to the bookstore from the alley: down a
set of steps and into the basement, through a street level door, or up a
short flight of steps to what was presumably the upper floor. I'd never
been to a three story dirty bookstore--I was duly impressed!

I'll be posting the next segment soon and I'll try to complete the three
story arcs I have running (A Very Good Day, in beginnings and interracial,
and Danny and Me in Adult/Youth) some time before the vernal equinox (March
20-21). Thanks for reading.

As always, questions, comments and criticism are welcome send them to John
at thelilghost06_nthesarge@yahoo.com Hope I hear from you soon. John