Date: Wed, 11 Apr 2007 10:50:23 -0500 From: Charles Hughes Subject: Mike Gets a Job - Chapter 7 (t/b oral) This story is completely fictional. It is about the relationship between a young teen and younger boys. If you are not 18 or if it is illegal for any reason for you to read such material, you must leave now. Copyright 2007 Charles Hughes, all rights reserved. If you wish to copy the story, please, just ask. Reader response is welcome. I'll try to answer all emails. the.empty.room@hotmail.com Mike Gets a Job - Chapter 7 (t/b oral) The day Mike would always think of as "that day" began with the nine-year-old dick he was sucking in the fitting room. He'd turned the little kid around so he could watch himself in the mirror that covered the entire side wall of the room. That was such a turnon - watching himself jerk his own cock while he sucked on the kid. The boy was groaning so much, Mike knew it wouldn't be long before he reached his dry cum, so Mike increased the speed of his fist on his own cock. Just as the boy's dick thrashed in his mouth with orgasm, Mike shot his cream onto the floor of the fitting room -- one, two, three good ropes of it. He let the rest ooze out onto his hand. The ten-year-old whispered a quick "Thanks" as he got his clothes on and was out the door, leaving Mike with his own pants off, a cock that was still a bit hard, and a puddle of cum on the floor. He got dressed, rubbed the cum into the carpeting, and left to return to the clothing department, where he was supposed to be working. As soon as he rounded the corner, though, he ran into Al, the manager. And it was easy to see he was pissed. "You. Follow me," he growled. Oh shit. He followed the fat ass in front of him around the corner and into the manager's office; Mike had never been in there before. Al motioned for him to sit in a chair in front of the desk, and the manager stood in front of him and leaned back with his ass on the edge of the desk. "What do you think you've been getting away with, you little faggot?" Oh shit. Oh fuck. "You think I don't know what you've been doing in there with those little boys. Little boys! You're in deep shit, kid, and you got no idea how deep it is." Mike's heart sank into the pit of his stomach. So many thoughts raced through his head -- if only, I shouldn't have, I didn't, I won't... "You got two choices, faggot. I call the cops right now...that's one choice. I don't think you want to choose that one." Al shifted his bulk and leaned into Mike's face. Mike drew back from the foul breath. "Or..." Al waited to make the torture even worse for Mike. "Or, you get me some action, too." Huh? Mike was confused. What was this pig saying? "Hear me, kid? I want some boydick, too. Fuck you for bringing this on, but fuck me if I don't take advantage of it. You hear what I'm saying?" "I...what do you want...I can't..." Mike just didn't know how to respond; his head was still reeling. "I want boy meat. And you bring it in here. You don't go in there anymore. You bring them in here. Hear me?" Al was hissing and shouting at the same time. His spittle ran from one corner of his mouth. "I can't...no..." Mike started. "The fuck you can't! It's that or the cops, pretty boy. That or the cops." Mike couldn't help it; he was close to tears now. He was more frightened than he'd ever been in his life, more confused, more terrified. "Or..." And Al paused again. "Or, I'll give you another choice, third choice. You suck me whenever I want you to. And I play with your meat." The phone rang, and Al turned on it like a mad bull. "What? Don't bother me now! What? Oh, fuck, can't anybody...Oh, shit, I'll be out there in a minute -- don't let that driver leave or it's your fucking job!" He turned back to Mike. "Gotta go back to the fucking loading dock. Just be a minute. You, pretty boy, you stay right here. If you leave this office I'll fuck you over good." And he turned and slammed the door after him. There was nobody to see, so Mike let his tears flow. He was shaking. What was happening? What could he do? It was all ruined. Oh, shit. He took a deep breath and talked to himself. Okay. He's not getting close to those boys. God knows what he'd to to them. He is just not getting to any boys! Oh, shit. The cops...my folks... Oh shit, I won't be able to see Robbie anymore... Okay. Calm down. There's got to be a way. Three choices. He said, three. Suck his dick. The thought almost raised the bile to his throat. What kind of a cock would such a pig have? And let him suck me? God, what if he wanted to...do more? Mike was close to panic now. He stood up. He walked in circles around the big desk, thinking, What? What? Oh god, what? He moved a little farther from the desk to walk around both chairs, too. What? Suck his dick? What else could he do? Oh, god! He was looking around the office, as though the answer would appear somewhere to him. He saw a closet door ajar and a little light coming from it -- just enough that he could see a chair in the closet. Who puts a chair in a closet? More to avoid his dilemma than to satisfy his curiosity, he opened the closet door fully. At first he didn't understand what he was looking at. The chair faced a window... A window? Oh, my god. He stepped into the little room. Mike recognized what was on the other side of the window. A fitting room. No, not "a" fitting room, but "the" fitting room. The one in the corner where he always took the boys. Yes. When he looked for it, he could even see the faint cumstain on the floor. It was a mirror inside the fitting room, but a window on this side! The fucker had been watching it all! All that time! Every time? He'd been sitting here, probably pulling his stinking dick, watching everything Mike and the boys had been doing! Even as he realized this, a woman opened the door to the room, closed it behind her, and started to pull off her blouse. Mike jumped and turned back to the office, but then he realized the woman couldn't see him at all. That dirty cocksucker had been watching everything that went on in that fitting room, men, women, boys, girls...watching it all...watching everything... Mike heard the outer office door open and turned to stand in the partially-opened doorway of the "closet." "What the fuck..." Al first saw an empty office, then he saw Mike standing in the doorway of the "closet." "You get away from there, you little shit. That's none of your business..." "Shhhhh!" Mike held his finger up to his lips. "She might hear you." "What? Who?" "That lady," Mike said, pointing behind him. "That lady that you'd be sitting there watching while you jacked off." Where the hell am I getting the balls to do this? Mike wondered to himself. His armpits were drenched with sweat, and he could feel it running down his back. His stomach was churning. He couldn't let Big Al see how much his knees were shaking. God, where was he going with this? "You got some setup here, pervert. You watch anything and everything. How much cum have you shot on that floor in there? Stinks like hell." Careful, he thought. Don't go too far. Al lunged for him. Mike dodged back behind the desk, and they moved on opposite sides of it for a minute. Al was cussing him, and Mike had never been so scared in his life. "Wait a minute, Al! Wait a minute!" They both stood still for a moment. "Looks to me like we've got a Mexican standoff here. Only what I've been doing probably isn't against the law. I've have to pay for it some way, but they don't send kids to jail for sucking dick. On the other hand, Al...What you've been doing is definitely against the law." "Look, you little faggot..." Al began, as he stomped toward Mike. Mike easily got on the other side of the big desk. "No!" Mike shouted the word, and Al stopped in his tracks. "You listen. Did you hear what I said? Looks to me like you've got two choices, Al. One, you keep my secret, and I'll keep yours. And, two... Well, I can't think of two, Al. Looks like you've only got one." Al lunged to the side of the desk, but Mike moved to the opposite side again. Fat Al can't move very fast, Mike thought. Fuck, is this going to work? "One choice, Al. If my secret gets out, I'll be in trouble. If your's gets out...I think they make prisons for perverts like you." "You goddamn cocksucking little queer...You think you know it all...Fuck, you don't know nothin' about the way the world operates..." "I don't know about the world," Mike replied, moving to counter Al's slow movement opposite him. "But I know how this operates," he said, pointing to the 'closet,' "and what will happen when word gets out. You keep quiet. I keep quiet. That's the deal." "I don't deal with...you little fucker..." But Al's retort died as he sank down into his desk chair. He breathed heavily for a few moments. "But I know this, faggot." He pointed a finger at Mike. "No queer boy works for me. You're fired." "No, Al, I'm not fired. I wouldn't work for a fatass pervert like you any longer than I had to. Here's how it's going to work. I'm going to keep working here for another couple of weeks until I can find another job, and then I'll quit. I'll let you know when." Al reached for a cigar, clipped it, and lit it. Damn, Mike thought. No wonder it stinks in here. Al's movements were slow and deliberate, as though he couldn't clip and light a cigar while thinking at the same time. "You keep quiet. I keep quiet." Al sounded like he was trying to sell himself on the idea. He blew a huge cloud of smoke toward Mike. He glanced at the "closet" door. "This is the way it's going to be," Al started. He sounded like he was in managerial mode again. "You keep your fucking mouth shut, and I keep...quiet. And you can work here for another...for a while." He pointed his cigar at Mike, and spoke quietly. "But you better fuckin' stay out of my way, cocksucker." Mike turned and walked out of the office, closing the door behind him. He couldn't believe what he'd just done. He was still shaking, but now he didn't have to hide it from anyone. He headed unsteadily back to the warehouse section. Oh shit shit shit. He felt it as he moved and looked down at his pants. Oh shit shit shit. Somewhere along in there he'd pissed his pants! He didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He got back through the double doors as quickly as possible and found a phone. He called the Customer Service desk up front and asked for Adele. He told her he had a very upset stomach (which, in fact, was the truth) and thought he should go home. "Sure, Mike. You take care of yourself. Don't forget you're going to babysit tomorrow night." "Oh, I'll be fine tomorrow," Mike said. "I'll be at work in the morning." He rolled his bike out the back door and started for home, hoping he had time to wash and dry his pants before his parents got home. Several days later, Mike was still avoiding Fat Al and still working. He had wondered if Al would try to cause him some grief at work, but so far everything seemed to be okay. He was just finishing the arrangement of a new DVD display when someone came up next to him. "Hi," the voice said. Mike looked up and saw a nice-looking boy - a familiar boy. "You remember me," the guy asked. "Uh, yeah I know you, but I can't..." Mike was searching his memory. "I'm Kent's brother. I came in here, and you...well, you know." He looked a little embarrassed. Mike remembered him now -- the older brother -- 11, he thought, 12? -- who had been sent for a blow job by the younger brother -- nine? -- Mike had sucked some time before. "Back for another one?" Mike asked quietly, looking around to see that there was no one close enough to hear. "Um...yeah. I mean. Oh, look, man...It was just so...fantastic! Look, can I talk to you?" "Sure," Mike said. "Follow me." Mike led the boy back into the warehouse and to his little room. They walked in, and Mike locked the door. "This is my office," he said, with a grin. The boys sat down on a roll of carpeting, and Mike began to stroke the boy's thigh through his jeans. He reached for his fly, unzipped it, unbuttoned the waistband, and pulled the jeans to the boy's ankles. The white briefs were tented, and Mike rubbed the cotton-covered cockhead with his palm. The boy started groaning. "What's your name?" Mike asked him. "Philip...Phil..." "Well, Phil, it's time we get that dick of yours out of these." Mike pulled the waistband down, and the boy lifted his ass so that the briefs were soon down with the jeans. His dick was a very stiff three-and-a-half inches, and Mike was soon massaging the head. "Wait..." Philip said breathlessly. "I need to ask you something." "Sure," Mike said, without missing a stroke. "See...I've got some buddies. We all jack off together sometimes. Well, this one guy won't, but everybody else does." Philip paused to catch his breath. His attention was split between what he wanted to ask Mike and what his cock in Mike's hand was demanding. "Doing it, I mean, sucking... It's just so fantastic. But none of my buddies wants to do it. I mean, sometimes we jack each other off. But if I start talking about anything else they all just...don't listen. How can I get them to do it?" Mike was moving his fist loosely up and down Philip's cock. The cockhead was beginning to get a deeper red. "Have you ever thought that maybe you're looking in the wrong place to get blow jobs?" Mike asked. "What do you mean?" "You've got a brother, Phil. He loved it when I sucked his dick. He sent you here the first time, didn't he?" Phil nodded. "He'll suck you." Mike said. "Kent? How do you know? He's only nine. I mean, how can I ask him?" "Just remind him how good he felt when I sucked him to a dry cum. Tell him you want to feel that way. Get your dick out, and get it hard. I think he'll go for it. Especially when you tell him that if he sucks you, you'll suck him." "What?" Phil's attention was now fully on what Mike was saying. Sucking his little brother... He hadn't thought about. "Let me tell you, Phil. Kent's a little guy. He's got a little mouth. Your cock will feel so good in there when he sucks you." "But...he doesn't know how..." Phil said. "Show him. Teach him. Look." Mike held Phil's now raging hard cock up to his mouth and licked lightly on the underside of it, just below the cockhead. Phil gasped. "Good, right?" Mike asked. "So tell him that's what you want him to do. Then get his tongue on your cock and see if he can do it. Or you do it on his cock, whichever. Show him what you want. Tell him everything you want him to do. And be sure to do it all for him, too." Phil had never considered sucking his little brother. But if that was a way to get blow jobs from him...well, it would be kind of hot, too. He grinned at the thought. Sucking his little brother, yeah. Phil's cock was now at Mike's mouth. Mike spoke carefully before it took it all in. "Do it to him the way you want him to do it to you. Teach him." And Mike began to slowly suck the hard dick. Phil groaned. His cock was pressed right to the back of Mike's throat, and he knew it was throbbing like it did right before he cums. "Ooooo...oh yea...I'm going to cum...cum soon..." And before the word "soon" was completely out of his mouth, his cock gave a hard thrust into Mike's mouth, then spasmed with the shooting of the young boycum. Mike continued sucking, but slower, more gently. He was rewarded with another nice shot, and then he tasted the cum as it oozed from Phil's cocklips. The boy was breathing hard, and as Mike looked up at his face he found a huge smile. He stood up. "Oh, dude...that was so hot!," he said. "Fucking hot." Mike wiped a drop of cum from his lips and gave his finger to Phil. Phil sucked it. "Kent's lucky to have a big brother," Mike told the younger boy. "But you're the bigger brother. You treat him right." Phil was grinning from ear to ear as he pulled his clothes on. "Listen, Phil. You're the big brother. You treat your little brother right. Understand?" Phil nodded, grinned, and opened the door, and Mike was left alone. He reached for his cock, still in his pants. He smiled as he pictured Phill and little Kent. Maybe they'd even get in bed naked to suck... He fell back on the carpeting and leisurely stroked himself to a nice cum, licking everything from his fingers. Then he went back to work. When he got to Robbie's house that night to babysit, Robbie met him at the door with a hug. "We got macaroni and cheese for supper, Mike!" "You like that, huh?" Mike picked the six-year-old up and held him up high for a minute while Robbie laughed. Mike couldn't help but notice that there was the hint of a tent in Robbie's shorts. Adele said goodbye to the boys and went to work.