Date: Sun, 8 Mar 2020 20:39:53 +0000 (UTC) From: Danny Smith Subject: Young Dad Young Dad by Danny Smith This took place about 10 years ago, but I've never forgotten it. I was on my way home from work and decided to stop in at the local arcade. The after work crowd is usually when the most action is. Sure enough there were probably eight or nine different guys in there, some good looking, some not so much. But one guy stood out for a couple of reasons. First he was young, early 20's. Very early. Second he was dressed in white work clothes, like a painter wears. He had light brown hair, almost blond but not quite, and was lean and muscular. He and I made eye contact. To my great surprise and delight he made it clear he wanted to get together. No words were spoken. None had to be. I entered one of the stalls that didn't have a hole in the wall (there weren't very many that didn't) and left the door unlocked. Sure enough, in about a minute the door opened and he walked in. We watched the movie for a minute, then started rubbing our crotches. You know, the way guys do. I reached over and touched him between the legs. He didn't resist. About now I started thinking "this could mean a couple of things." One, he was really into older guys (he was about my son's age at the time). Another was, this guy's a hustler and any minute he's going to tell me he needs some money. No mention of money -- at least not then. I unzipped him and pulled it out. Pure magic. I felt the heft of it in my hand for a moment, then he obligingly opened his work pants and let them fall to the ground. I figured I would go for it all the way and unbuttoned his shirt. Again, he obliged by not only taking off his work shirt, but pulling off his t-shirt as well. He had a nice thatch of light brown hair right in the center of his chest. I was in heaven. I sucked on his nipples awhile, then dropped to my knees and took his manhood in my mouth. Slowly, not wanting to rush this, I gave him the best blow job I possibly could -- and I've been called an artist by more than one cocksman. After a few minutes of deep throating and licking his balls, he mumbled "I'm getting close." I put my mouth back on his throbbing penis and let him shove it all the way down my throat. In seconds he was spurting a warm gush of jizz into my mouth, and I was swallowing every luscious drop. I let him drain his balls, then slowly massaged his sensitive shaft and head with my tongue and lips. He knew he'd been sucked by a pro. I got up and we both sort of caught our breath for a minute, watching the end of the movie till my money ran out. He got dressed, and then it came: "Can I ask you a favor?" I knew, or thought I did, what would come next, and honestly I was prepared to accede to his request. It was worth it. But the surprising question was, "Can you give me a lift home? I usually take the bus, but I'm running short." I still had plenty of time before I needed to be home, so I told him sure and we got into my car. He told me where he lived, which was about five minutes away, and we talked in an easy and relaxed way. He had only been in town for about six months and was working for a sign company, putting up billboards, which explained the "painter's" outfit. He and his wife had just had a baby. His brother had sold his motorcycle. New Orleans was nice, but he missed Nebraska. That kind of thing. As we approached his house he said, "Could you make a quick stop here?" indicating a grocery store. Of course I obliged. He said again, "I'm a little short." Immediately I pulled out a twenty and said "is this enough?" He grinned and said "I'll just be a minute." True to his word, he sprinted into the store and came out two minutes later . . . carrying a box of Pampers. I sprang a boner like never before. The kid had been telling the truth. He was a new father, loved his wife and baby daughter, but occasionally sold his body, allowing men he found appealing to suck his dick in the hope of picking up a little spare money. I was hooked. I got his name and number, gave him mine, and told him if he every needed any spare money again to give me a call, anytime. He never did.