Hello again.
This is a trifle of a story about an enterprising youngster who sets his mind on a goal and works diligently toward it. Of course he doesn't exist and never did, but if you want to imagine that someone like Bill Gates or Jeff Bezos started out this way, go for it.
Probably more like Elon Musk.
The story is set in the late 60s, when a quarter was actually worth something.
At the risk of repeating myself repeating myself repeating myself, please stay safe and healthy, out of the hospital and definitely out of the clutches of the Blue Meanies.
Please, please donate to Nifty. Hosting these amazing stories isn't free, so let's help 'em out, whaddya say?
Comments are incredibly welcome, and I intend to answer everyone.
"Why do you need 25 bucks so bad, Marty?"
I look at him like he's stupid.
"What have I been talkin' about for a month, doofus? The deadline is gettin' real close to sign up for summer camp and I'm still 25 dollars short."
"I don't get why they're makin' you pay for it yourself," Jerry says. "I think my folks would pay anything to get rid of me for two weeks."
"They are paying for most of it, but my Dad says I have to learn a work ethic, whatever that means. The camp costs 150 dollars and they're paying 100. I still have 10 from my birthday money and I made 15 more from mowing lawns and walking dogs but I still need 25 and there's only two weeks left."
"Why doncha just mow some more lawns and walk some more dogs?"
"I can't. I hit a rock with the lawn mower and nicked the blade so my Dad won't let me use it anymore. Then Mrs. Buttrick's dog Buster bit me on the thumb so my Mom said I couldn't do that anymore either."
"So what are you supposed to do?"
"I don't know. I have to think of something else I can get paid to do."
Jerry gets a really weird look on his face, kind of a smirk like he knows something I don't. He looks around like a spy or something then leans in close.
"Did you hear about that kid Rusty, who lives over by the park? He knows how to make money."
"Oh yeah? How?"
"Well..." Jerry says, leaning in even closer and speaking very softly, "the big kids say he'll suck a guy's dick for a quarter!"
"What? No, come on. Nobody would do that!"
"That's what they said."
"They were just lying. You know guys always say stuff about other guys."
"Do you know Mike Landsberg?"
"Sure, Stevie's big brother."
"He said he let Rusty do it to him and it was really great!"
"What? He must have been joking, right?"
"No. He said he was at the park after dinner one night riding his bike around the bases on the Little League field and Rusty was there, down in the dugout. Rusty called him in to look at a weird bug crawling up the wall, but when Mike got in there he didn't see any bug and Rusty said it must have flown away. It was getting pretty dark down in the dugout and that's when Rusty said he would suck him for a quarter."
"And Mike just let him?"
"He said he didn't think he'd really do it, but when Rusty got down on his knees and got started Mike said it felt so good he just let him keep doin' it."
"I don't think I believe that."
"Mike swore it was true, even though all his friends were teasing him and calling him a homo. Why would a kid make up homo stuff about himself?"
"Why would he tell them in the first place?"
"I don't know," Jerry says. "Maybe just because it's such a weird thing that happened he had to tell somebody."
"Wow," I say, and then something occurs to me. "So why tell me about it? Are you saying I should do that to earn camp money?"
"No!" Jerry says, looking sorry. "I didn't mean to make you mad. We were just talking about kids making money, that's all."
I decide Jerry really didn't mean anything by it so I give him a smile to let him know I'm not mad. We keep walking and I can't help imagining Mike sitting on that dugout bench with another kid kneeling in front of him and sucking his stiff hard dick. My own dick starts to get hard thinking about it.
"Do you know him, that Rusty?" I ask, and Jerry seems surprised I brought it up again.
Actually, I am too.
"Not really. He's 12 so he's 2 grades ahead of us, but I see him around sometimes."
"What does he look like?"
"He has red hair. I think that's why they call him Rusty."
"And he lives by the park?"
"Yeah, in that big white house on the corner right across from the monkey bars. Why?"
"I don't know. Just wondering, that's all."
But I know there's more to it than that. Now I'm imagining Mike Landsberg with a 12-year-old red-headed kid kneeling in front of him, and my dick is hard as a rock.
"I have to go home now, Jerry. See you later, OK?"
It's different this time, though. Every time before I just liked how it felt to hold my dick and rub it up and down, but now I'm thinking about Mike and Rusty and it's way more exciting!
But it's changing around all the time, too, and it's really confusing. First I'm in the dugout just watching what they're doing, and then I'm Mike and imagining how amazing it feels to have someone's mouth on my dick, and then all of a sudden I'm Rusty and I have Mike's dick in my mouth! I never thought about anything like that before, doing things to another boy, and I don't even know where it came from.
I'm sitting on top of the monkey bars, watching the big white house where Rusty lives. I've been here for half an hour and my butt is numb from the metal bar. Every time I see someone come near the house I start to get excited, but then they walk right past and I go back to being bored again.
I don't know why I'm here.
A tall skinny boy comes around the corner and my heart races again. I don't know him but he looks like maybe a 7th grader, like 12 years old or so. He looks nice to me, like he's probably a cool kid, although I have no idea why I think so.
The boy turns up the walk to Rusty's door and my heart starts to thump like a drum. He rings the bell and after a few seconds a teenage girl with reddish-brown hair answers.
I'm disappointed, but I don't know why.
They say something to each other and the tall boy steps back down from the porch and waits with his hands in his pockets.
In a minute the door opens again and a boy steps out — a boy with bright red hair. My heart races again and I crane myself as high as I can for a better view, my feet hooked into the bars so I don't fall.
The redhead smiles happily up to the taller boy, who gives a little smile but kind of looks down at the ground, his hands still in his pockets. They talk for a few more seconds and then the tall boy nods his head, saying yes to something.
My stomach feels weird. Maybe it's the thing they call butterflies.
Rusty gestures along the sidewalk in my direction, and the tall boy walks ahead of him that way. When they get to the backyard gate Rusty steps ahead and opens it, ushering the boy inside. From the top of the monkey bars I can see perfectly.
Rusty leads the boy to a huge oak tree in the middle of the yard. I notice pieces of 2-by-4 nailed to the tree trunk, making a ladder, and I realize that there's a treehouse. Rusty begins to climb and the tall boy starts up after him. Rusty climbs through a trap door and disappears into the treehouse and the tall boy follows.
I can only imagine what's going on in there but my dick is throbbing at the thought. I just know that the tall boy has dropped his jeans and Rusty is sucking him like there's no tomorrow. Now that I know what Rusty looks like I can easily imagine his red lips wrapped around a stiff 12-year-old dick, pumping up and down and sucking and slurping like crazy.
And then I'm Rusty, and it's my lips on the tall, cool boy's cock, and I am stunned to realize that I absolutely would do that! I want to! I sit back down hard and damn near fall off the monkey bars.
They are in the treehouse a pretty long time, but finally the tall boy's feet appear, reaching uncertainly for the top step of the ladder. He climbs down slowly followed by Rusty. Rusty is grinning and the tall boy is smiling much more happily than before.
I'm absolutely certain that it really happened. The tall cool boy really just got a blow job in that treehouse, and I feel exhilarated!
I've gotta get home and play with it!My heart is thumping but this time with fear, not excitement. We are in Jerry's upstairs bedroom pushing Matchbox cars around the floor and on the furniture. His Mom has gone to the store.
It's now or never.
"Jerry? Would you do it?"
"Huh? Do what?"
"If you were Mike Landsberg? Would you give Rusty a quarter to suck your dick?"
He stares into my eyes like he's trying to see my brain. He's hesitant, maybe not sure if I'm setting him up for something.
"I don't know. Would you?"
I anticipated this reply and I say as casually as I can, "I guess so. He likes to do it I guess, and Mike said it feels great."
Jerry still looks at me uncertainly, not sure if he should commit himself.
"That's what Mike said," Jerry agrees, and zooms his Matchbox car off of the bed, making a crashing sound in his throat when it hits the carpet.
"So would you?" I ask again.
He looks at me seriously. "What do you mean, Marty? That we should go find Rusty and get sucked?"
"We could. It doesn't even have to be Rusty though. There's probably other guys who would do it."
Jerry looks at me suspiciously.
"Like who?"
I swallow and look down, concentrating on the fallen Matchbox car.
"Well, I really need money for camp."
There, I said it, although I stand ready to instantly take it back if Jerry reacts badly. I'll laugh and say
I got you! You really believed me for a second!
but I'm really really hoping I don't have to take it back. Jerry is quiet for about a week and a half.
OK, maybe five seconds.
"And you wouldn't tell anybody?" he finally asks. "They say Rusty never tells."
My heart beats faster, fear turning into excitement.
"No, it would be a secret for sure!"
"I guess so then, yeah," Jerry says, his face beet red. "Can I give you the quarter tomorrow though? I get my allowance in the morning before Dad goes to work."
"That's OK," I say softly. Now I'm the one being quiet. I've got fear and excitement dueling it out inside me, but excitement clearly has the upper hand.
"Um, I don't know exactly when my Mom will be home."
"OK," I say timidly. "I guess we'd better start then."
It's so weird to really want something and also really not want it.
Jerry sits on the side of the bed, his butt close to the edge. I'm already on the floor so I rise up on my knees and face him.
"Should I just unzip, or what?"
"No!" I say, a lot more forcefully than I mean to. I dial it back and say, "I'll do it for you, OK?"
"OK." Jerry leans back on his elbows and basically gives himself up to me.
I reach for the zipper of his jeans and struggle to pull it down. It's weird and awkward to do it looking up instead of looking down. I finally get the zipper open and it's thrilling to see his white underpants through the fly. I reach up to the top button and it pops open easily.
We make eye contact and both kind of giggle. I realize it has to be weird for him too, but I also can't believe he'd go for it this easily if he never had any interest in such a thing before. Suddenly I'm sure Jerry brought the whole thing up yesterday exactly because he was already thinking about it, though he couldn't have known it would be with me.
Shit, even I didn't know it would be with me!
I grab his jeans by the waistband and pull down with both hands. Jerry lifts his butt up to let them pass and in a few seconds he's sitting in his undies with his jeans around his knees. I've seen him in swimsuits and shorts lots of times but I never paid attention to how pretty his smooth bare thighs are. I want to see more of him and so I grab his jeans by the cuffs and start pulling them all the way off over his stocking feet.
"Hey, what are you doing? What if my Mom comes home?"
"I can't get in between there with your jeans in the way. You want me to get in there good don't you?"
"I guess," he says and raises his feet to assist me. "But listen up for a car in the driveway. I'll have to get 'em back on in a hurry if she comes home, 'cause she'll want me to come help carry groceries."
Jerry's legs are bare now except for his socks. I'm tempted to take them off of him too but I have no explanation for that so I leave it alone. I meet his eyes and reach for his underpants.
He lifts his butt again and I slide them down and straight off, his hairless boy parts right there now a foot in front of me. He opens his knees wide and I have to sit on my haunches and stare for a moment. I never thought about it, even when I was imagining myself sucking Mike Landsberg or the tall cool 7th grader, exactly what this view of a boy would look like.
I'm surprised that Jerry's little wiener is completely limp, while mine is so hard in my pants that it hurts. His hairless sack hangs down loosely too, the little eggs inside clearly outlined with one hanging lower than the other. His inner thighs are smooth and silky-looking, and I stifle an impulse to lean in and kiss him there. I don't know why that feels like it would be going too far considering what I'm about to do.
"Marty," he says softly and I look up to his face. "Go ahead before she comes home."
It never occurred to me that I might be sucking a limp one. Oh well, I think. It's his quarter.
I lean forward and stretch out my tongue, anxious to taste the forbidden fruit and scared of it too. I gently lick the very tip of his drooping dick.
Nothing happens. The Earth doesn't open up to swallow me, no bolt of lightning comes down from the sky. It doesn't even taste like much, just like any other skin, like licking my hand or something, but the texture is something unexpected. It's soft and spongy, squishing under my tongue like a wet noodle. There's no mistaking this for anything except a dick. I lean in again and run my tongue all around the head.
Jerry reacts for the first time, sucking in his breath. I look up to him and he smiles.
"Put your mouth over it," Jerry says. I do and he sighs, "That feels nice. Now suck."
I begin to pull at it, using my lips and tongue in a way I can't explain; it just feels right. I don't know how I know what to do.
I just do.
"Oooh," Jerry moans. "Now it feels real good."
Indeed it must because his dick is filling and stiffening in my mouth. In seconds it's twice the size and hard as stone and my own enjoyment kicks into higher gear. I like it even more than I thought I would and I can't help moaning in pleasure.
I have to see it so I pull off and stare from inches away. It angles sharply up his belly, shining with my spit and redder than it was before my tongue touched it. It's beautiful to me, the skin taut along the shaft and the deep pink head pulsing with his heartbeat. It looks almost identical to my own boner, though of course I've never seen mine up so close or from this angle.
I want it more than I've ever wanted anything and I plunge my mouth back down on it, pumping up and down its entire length and keeping my lips in tight contact the whole time.
"Oh man!" Jerry moans and begins to hump his hips up as my mouth comes down. I'm suddenly aware of his hands on the back of my head, though I don't know how long they've been there. He's driving his dick into my mouth, my lower lip slamming firmly down onto his balls and my upper lip onto the ultra-soft skin just above his dick. I'm sucking my very best and he's pumping faster and faster and then he goes rigid, jamming himself deep into my mouth and all of his muscles clenching.
He's getting that feeling just like I get when I play with it.
I love doing it and I love making my friend feel so good. I pump and suck and moan my own pleasure while Jerry bucks and twitches and his breath heaves. Finally he starts coming down and I know I have to release him.
I don't want to.
I smile up at Jerry and he grins down at me. "Wow, Marty! That was the best thing I ever felt!"
I inflate with pride and happiness and I'm just about to tell him how much I liked doing it for him when we hear a car pulling into the driveway.
"My Mom!" Jerry hisses, and jumps up scrambling for his clothes.
"Hi Marty," Jerry says when I answer our back door. "I got my allowance so I can pay you for yesterday."
I step outside and pull him around the corner of the garage. "Shhh! My Mom's right inside!"
"Sorry. Anyway, here," he says, holding out his hand with his palm up. There are two quarters.
"You only owe me one quarter, Jerry."
He smiles wickedly. "The other one is for today."
My excitement immediately vaults.
"We can't do it at my house this time though," he whispers. "My Mom is home."
I have an idea and I lead Jerry quietly back into the house and down our basement steps. I take him all the way to the far end past the furnace to a storage area where my Dad keeps our camping gear, tents and sleeping bags and stuff.
"Help me," I whisper and together we drag a big tarp off the pile and onto the flat floor. Then I start unrolling sleeping bags and laying them over the tarp, and Jerry gets the idea and helps. Soon we have created a nice soft little bed and Jerry flops onto it on his back. I set upon him and start undoing his pants.
He's bone-hard from the get-go this time and I take his tasty dick right to the root. We have plenty of time and I do a super-good job, alternating deep plunging sucks with playful nibbles of his dickhead, and even duck down to lick and suck his soft ball sack. It lasts twice as long as the first time and he gets close several times before he finally boils over with his feeling.
We both love it even more than the first time.
"Who's this, Jerry?"
He nods to the boy next to him, a smaller and probably younger boy with longish blond hair and blue eyes, and very long eyelashes.
He's really cute.
"This is Walter. He's kind of like my cousin, but not really. His Mom is my Mom's best friend, and they came over today to visit."
"Hi Walter," I say and he smiles adorably at me but doesn't say anything. I think he's shy.
"Can you come out and play?" Jerry asks with a lot more hope in his eyes than usual, which I think is odd.
I tell my Mom I'm going out and she reminds me not to be late for dinner. Standing in our driveway we just sort of look at each other without saying anything. I take the moment to examine Walter all over.
He's super cute!
It's one of the first hot days of the summer and all three of us are in shorts and t-shirts. Walter's red shorts are the little-kid kind with elastic around the waist and no fly. He has on little white tennis shoes with no socks and I find his smooth legs really shapely and pretty.
I decide I don't like the name Walter for him. It's not nearly cute enough of a name. Oh well, what are you gonna do?
"So what do you guys feel like doing?" I finally ask.
Jerry looks around like a spy again, like just before he told me about Mike and Rusty, and finally whispers "Walter has a quarter."
I suck in my breath and look at the smaller boy in surprise. He has a nervous half-grin and looks away, but then looks right back and locks eyes with me.
He's excited as hell, and so am I.
I step a little closer and speak softly. "We can't use the basement. My Mom is doing laundry down there."
Jerry brightens and grins. "That's OK. After my brain started working again I remembered that we have a storage space too with camping stuff and all that, only ours isn't in the house! Come on!"
We run the two doors over to Jerry's house, straight to the back and even further to the back side of the garage. Walter is a lot faster than I thought he would be, being the smallest. In fact he beats both of us.
I've never been back here before and I'm surprised to find kind of a lean-to type shed built onto the back of the garage. It's maybe five feet wide and really deep, I guess the whole back wall of the garage. The door is on one end and has a hasp with a padlock.
"It's locked," I say, and I hear the disappointment in my own voice.
Jerry proudly produces a key from his pocket and stretches up his tallest to reach the padlock. It snaps open and he pulls the door wide.
"The key is on a nail right inside the garage. Nobody will notice it's gone and then I'll put it back!" Jerry says with a knowing air, like he had figured everything out.
He flips the switch and a single bulb in the middle of the ceiling comes on. The whole back half of the space is stacked with stuff, most of which I can't even identify. In the front it's fairly neat and organized, and the whole place is surprisingly clean.
I spot the camping gear and smile at Jerry. Without a word he and I start making a soft pile on the floor. Walter just stands by and watches but that's OK. It's only a two-man job anyway. When I'm satisfied with our makeshift bed I turn to Walter, completely unable to stop myself from licking my lips.
"Give him your quarter, Walter."
The boy reaches back to his butt and fumbles a bit and I wonder what the hell he's doing, but then he turns around and offers his round little backside to Jerry.
"Help me with the button," he says, and I realize that there is a tiny patch pocket in the back of the little-kid shorts held closed by a tiny button. It's the first time I've heard Walter's voice and it's an angelically soft soprano that suits him perfectly.
I think my mouth is watering.
Jerry gets the button open and Walter proudly digs out his quarter. He grins as he hands it to me.
"Thank you, Walter," I say, having no idea what the polite response might be when accepting money for sex. I lick my lips again and gaze upon him in anticipation.
"I'll keep lookout," Jerry says and turns toward the door but Walter grabs his arm.
"No! You stay too, OK?"
Jerry shoots me an apologetic look but I just smile. "That's OK, you can stay. Walter's a little bit shy and he doesn't know me, so I understand."
Jerry smiles with a thank-you in his eyes and pulls the door, closing us in. To my surprise he confidently grabs a shovel from next to the door and uses the handle to wedge the door closed, just as sturdy as the padlock would.
It's obvious he's done that before.
"I tried it out yesterday when I remembered about the shed," he says, turning pink in the face. "Just by myself, you know?" and he makes the jerk-off motion with his hand. I laugh, and I'm a little bit surprised when Walter laughs too. He may know more than I think at his age.
"Take your shorts off, Walter," Jerry says, and the boy doesn't hesitate. He jerks them down to his ankles, then steps out of both the shorts and his shoes at once. The bulge in his tiny white underpants is small but prominent. Jerry gestures for him to continue, and Walter surprises both of us by peeling off his little yellow t-shirt before shucking his undies down and off.
He's naked.
And beautiful.
I stare at him, my mouth open. I have to look at his dick first, my own lust running the show at this point. It's smaller than Jerry's but not by much, pink-white and childish and angled even more sharply up his belly than Jerry's. It stands up fiercely stiff, like you could suspend a bowling ball from it and it wouldn't bend. His balls are tiny and tight up underneath him, and I know that even if he jumped up and down they wouldn't jiggle.
Finally my eyes roam over the rest of him and the view is equally spectacular. Every part of him is smooth and taut without a ripple of baby fat. He is childishly unmuscled and that suits him too. He has tiny pink-brown nipples, sharp as needles, which for some reason I find extra attractive.
He must see me drinking him in because he smiles and turns around, looking back at me over his shoulder and displaying for me his round, perfect butt. The look in his blue eyes loudly says You like this, don't you?
The kid definitely knows more than I think at his age.
"Lay down on the sleeping bags," Jerry says and the boy quickly complies, immediately and automatically opening his legs.
It's showtime.
I settle on my stomach between his legs and begin to lick and slurp like I've done twice before. Walter sucks in his breath and I look up to make sure he's OK, and he happily smiles down at me.
"It feels good," he says in his lovely soprano, and I am spurred on.
I add gentle fondles of his tiny nuts, light massaging touches on his stomach and chest, little tweaks and flicks of those fascinating sharp nips, and he clearly loves it all.
I swing into what is fast becoming my personal technique, plunging to the depths five or six times then nibbling the tiny head, which is actually smaller than the shaft unlike Jerry's. Walter's dick is harder than Jerry's too, and reminds me of sucking the bone after finishing a pork chop or something.
A succulent, delicious bone.
I'm eagerly working Walter's dick now, at ease in my new element. I sense his reactions from second to second and make note of what he especially likes, so I can return to it when I think he wants me to. This is a bit easier with Walter than Jerry because Walter is more vocal. His little peeps and moans make a handy roadmap to his ecstasy.
Walter is getting very excited now. His hands are at the back of my head, pulling me down as he squirms up to me. He is moaning louder and more often, punctuating it with high-pitched squeals and yelps. In fact he's getting alarmingly loud, and Jerry steps in before I have to.
"Shhh Walter!" he says. "People might be able to hear you!"
Walter looks sheepish and I can tell he's trying to rein it in, but I also sense that it's reining in his pleasure too. I don't want that, so I pull off of that delicious dick just long enough to say, "Cover your mouth, then you can moan all you want."
Walter clearly sees this as a brilliant idea and puts both hands over his mouth, moaning louder than ever as he lets himself completely go.
Somehow the muffled cries are sexier than the loud ones.
In just a few seconds I feel Walter building to his peak. I am torn, because I desperately want him to have the fabulous feeling I know I can give him, but this blow job has not lasted anywhere near long enough for me. I debate fiercely in my head. Should I back off, let him coast for a minute so I get to enjoy him longer, or do I go full steam ahead and give him the very best feeling of his young life?
I need to give him that feeling.
I bury his dick in my mouth and suck for all I'm worth. He bucks up to me harder than ever and the muffled wail that accompanies it is so plaintive that I know he is on the very brink.
And then he cums so hard he almost knocks me off of him.
Walter thrashes and strains and cums for a solid 20 seconds before he even begins to come down. Smiling around his pulsing cock I shoot a look to Jerry, astonished to see him with his shorts around his ankles jerking his deep red stiffie for all he's worth, spasming in his own climax.
Walter's dick is slackening a bit as he drifts down from the heights. He uncovers his mouth and smiles down at me, and I return it. It makes me feel great to know I can give him something so wonderful.
It makes me feel special.
I start to back away but Walter looks stricken and he grabs my head with both hands. His eyes are pleading as he says, "Don't stop. Just a little more, OK?"
I settle back in and take his dick once more, and Walter sighs contentedly as he lies back. In three seconds flat he's fully hard again and we're off to the races.
It takes a little longer the second time but Walter gets there nearly as strongly. This time I have Jerry stuff the tail of Walter's t-shirt into his mouth so the boy can use his hands on the back of my head the way I like.
When we are finished and Walter puts his clothes back on I feel a depressing letdown, but Walter makes me feel better when he stretches up to kiss me on the cheek.
"Thank you, Marty," he says sweetly. "I can't wait until we come visit again — and I'll be sure to bring another quarter!"
Today Jerry wants to talk to me in private so we ride our bikes out to the dirt trails across the empty field on 9th avenue. We stop somewhere in the middle where we're completely alone.
"What did you want to talk to me about, Jerry?"
"I did some arithmetic last night," he says. "There's only 12 days left to pay for camp, right? And so far you've made 75 cents in three days."
"Yeah," I say, disheartened because it's obvious where the math is going.
"You just can't make it at 25 cents a day."
"Well that's it then," I say glumly. "I mean, 25 dollars is one hundred quarters. I would need to give 97 more blow jobs in 12 days!"
"That's only eight a day," Jerry says encouragingly.
"How can ever I do eight a day?"
"You can do it if I help you."
My jaw drops. "You mean you'll give blow jobs too and give me the money?"
"What? Fuck no! I mean I'll help you find customers!"
"Oh," I say.
That sounds more believable, though I still think it's a long shot.
"What you need is volume business," he says, "and the key to that is one word: advertising!"
Jerry's Dad sells cars and this sounds just like him.
"Now you can't go around asking random kids if you can blow them, but I can hint around that I know someone who will. I'll be able to tell if they're interested and then I can get them alone and close the deal!"
"I don't want the whole town knowing!"
"It wouldn't be the whole town. Just the kids who are interested, and then they're part of it too so they can't tell on you without telling on themselves!"
"Mike Landsberg told about Rusty."
"Yeah, that's true," Jerry admits. "But nobody really believed him, and nothing bad happened to Rusty did it?"
I think about the tall cool 7th grader and how something really good happened to Rusty!
"Still, 97 blow jobs!" I say.
"It's not impossible. How long does each one take?"
"It depends. It took, like, half an hour with Walter."
"That's because you did him twice. You really should have charged him another quarter."
"He didn't have another quarter."
"He could have owed it to you like I did. Anyway, it went a lot faster both times with me, so why don't we say it takes the average boy about 15 minutes?"
"If you say so."
"So that means eight BJs would take 120 minutes, which is two hours. That's not so bad."
I think about sucking eight dicks in two hours and damn if my own dick doesn't jump in my pants!
"But you need a safe, private place to take them," Jerry goes on, "better than your basement with your Mom's laundry."
I nod.
"So here's what we do: I find a customer and bring him back to the storage shed behind our garage, where you're waiting for him. You do what you do and then I bring another one, and another one, and another one and pretty soon you have your camp money!"
"That sounds like just as much work for you as for me. What do you get out of it?"
"In exchange I get two free blow jobs a week plus a bonus blow job for any day I bring you eight customers or more. Plus if you make more money than you need by the deadline I get half of the extra."
Wow," I say in awe. "You really thought of everything!"
He grins and says, "I had to. I only get fifty cents a week allowance. If I pay you for two blow jobs then I'm broke already and there's nothing left for candy and soda and... more blow jobs! I want lots of blow jobs, man! That was the best thing I ever felt!"
I have to grin back at him, but then I think of something else.
"You still have to find 97 boys! Are there even 97 boys in the whole town?"
He smiles. "I thought of that too. I don't have to find 97 different boys, because once they see how great it is they'll come back for seconds, and thirds, and fourths. I'll bet we only have to find, like, 25 guys."
That still sounds like a lot to me and I really want to say nah, forget about it, but damn if he hasn't almost convinced me.
Jerry's eyes turn real sincere and he says, "Besides, you're my best friend and I know how bad you want to go to camp."
It makes me blush.
I'm waiting in the shed, nervous and wishing I had just bagged the whole thing. I can go to camp next year after all, and it should be pretty easy to save up the money with a whole year to earn it. But Jerry says he has customers for me and one is due any minute, so a combination of horniness, curiosity and irrational hope is keeping me here.
The door opens and daylight pours in, broken by a kid-shaped shadow that I can't really see. The door closes again and I see a face I recognize. He goes to my school but I don't really know him. James? Jason maybe? He's not bad looking but no Walter-level stunner. Maybe Jerry-level, which is just fine. He smiles nervously, and it's actually pretty cute.
"Um, are you Marty?"
Who the hell else would be waiting here in the storage shed?
I don't say it, though. We're both nervous enough; I don't need to insult him too.
"Yeah. What's your name?"
"Jason."
"You're going into 6th grade, right?"
"Yeah. How about you?"
"No, 5th. I don't turn 11 until December."
Jason smiles and says, "My birthday was last week."
"Happy birthday, Jason."
He smiles again even bigger. "Thanks."
"If you give me a quarter I'll give you a nice birthday present."
He laughs and digs into his pocket for the money, placing it in my hand, then stands there looking at me.
"I don't know what to do," he says sheepishly. "I never had a BJ before."
I remember Walter getting all the way naked and how much I liked it. "Take your clothes off."
Jason hesitates. "Everything?"
"Yeah. You're not wearing much, right?"
It's summer so he's wearing the same thing I'm wearing: t-shirt, shorts, undies and gym shoes. No socks. It's like a uniform in our neighborhood.
"Yeah, OK." He strips quickly and reveals a nice average body. He has tiny swells of baby fat for boobs with lovely big brown nipples that stick out sharply.
It turns out I like nipples.
I scan down his body and catch a glimpse of the largest boner I've encountered yet. Nothing crazy, but bigger than me or Jerry. It's only a glimpse because he's kind of covering himself with his hands. His balls I can see and they are also big and hang down very loosely. He is bald and pink and childish all over and I like it.
"Lay down," I say, indicating the pile. He does and self-consciously covers his crotch with his hands. "Relax, Jason. You came here to let me do stuff to you, so let me."
He drops his hands to his sides and I see that his boner sticks pretty much straight up, rather than angling up his body. That's something new and I like it too.
I like the whole idea of doing stuff to Jason.
I get into position and nudge his legs open. His balls fall heavily to the left and I find it fascinating. I lean in and lick his dickhead, which is very prominent and the biggest one I've seen compared to the shaft. He reacts kind of defensively but then giggles and tries to lay back and relax.
The blow job goes very well. I like slurping his head and I can get all the way down on him despite his relatively large size. He gets his feeling in a nice quick seven or eight minutes, crushing my head to his crotch with surprising strength and shuddering rather than wildly bucking and heaving. It's the perfect length of time for me, long enough to enjoy but not taking forever.
"That was great," he says, hurrying into his clothes as his awkwardness returns. I wonder if he regrets doing it.
"I liked it too, Jason," I say. "I hope we can do it again sometime."
He looks at me in surprise, a smile creeping onto his face. "Maybe in a couple of days? I'll probably be feeling sexy again by then."
I grin. "Cool."
He leaves with a cute little wave and I feel like I made a friend. Before the door can close another shadow steps in. In a second I recognize him from the class behind mine, so he'd be an incoming 4th grader. He's not much bigger than Walter and certainly not in his league for looks. Not ugly or anything, just some kid.
He already has his quarter in his hand.
"What's your name?" I ask with a smile as I take the money.
"Richard," he says, then pointedly, "not Dick!"
I shrug and say, "OK. What grade are you in, Richard?"
"Fourth," he says with annoyance. "Are you gonna suck it or what?"
This is when I learn that some kids are friendlier than others.
"Yep," I reply. "Take all your clothes off."
"I don't need 'em all off," he says, jerking his shorts and undies down to mid-thigh. He has a remarkably long boner for such a young boy, longer than mine by a lot, but it's very slim. His balls hang down lower than expected, too.
"Lay down over here," I instruct, but he shakes his head.
"No, I want to do it standing up. You kneel down."
I actually appreciate the chance to try something different, so I kneel on the soft sleeping bag pile and Richard steps up to me. I lean in to lick his dick-tip but he grabs the back of my head and drives his dick into my mouth to the hilt. I am surprised and try to resist.
"Hold your lips tight around it!" he orders, and not knowing how to react to this aggression I just do what he says. Richard begins thrusting his cock between my lips, fast and hard. His balls swing against my chin and his pubic bone crushes my nose with every thrust. He's surprisingly powerful and it actually hurts a little.
After a minute or so I have saliva built up in my mouth and I need to swallow, but when I do his plunging cock scrapes along my upper front tooth.
"Hey!" he cries. "Watch the teeth!" and goes right back to feverishly banging my face.
This is not fun for me at all but I don't know what to do about it. I'm bigger than he is so I could probably overpower him, toss him out on his narrow little ass, but what would happen then? He'd tell everybody about me and my quest for camp money would be over, and even worse than that everybody would know that I'm a dirty little cocksucking homo.
Which I am, of course.
I'm well aware by now, and well aware of what my life would be like if the wrong people knew it. I need this kid to keep my secret, which means I need to keep him happy.
I adjust myself a bit, crouching lower and taking Richard's thrusts at a straighter angle. I grip his dick firmly with my lips, and I can tell that he appreciates the better friction. Finally I reach for his skinny buns and match the rhythm of his thrusts, pulling him into me with even more force than he can manage alone.
He is pounding my face now with my active assistance, and I feel his excitement rising. He begins to grunt with every thrust, getting louder and letting out little moans and gasps. He slams and slams and then I feel his thighs contract and his belly clench and he gets his feeling, strong but very brief. He fucks my face a few more final times, then pushes away from me and staggers back.
"Whew!" Richard gasps, grabbing the door jamb for support. "Wow, kid! You were for shit at the beginning but man did you get good fast!" He looks at me and actually smiles.
And I'm actually glad he enjoyed it, even though it was pretty horrible for me.
Richard breathes heavily for a minute and then pulls his shorts up over his long, still-hard dick. "Thanks," he says, and then adds hopefully, "Do you do any other stuff? Like, if I gave you two quarters would you let me put it in your butt?"
My jaw drops and I can't say a word.
"It doesn't hurt that bad, honest," he offers, "and my brother has a big one! Mine should be easy."
When I still don't answer Richard says, "OK a dollar, but that's my final offer!"
I stammer a little, saying nothing really, and Richard smiles again and says, "Just think about it, OK? But I'll definitely be back even if it's just for another blow job. It was awesome!"
He steps out the door and I'm glad that another kid doesn't immediately step in. I need a break to let the tornado in my head stop spinning. I think about this new concept, that boys actually put their dicks into other boys' butts, and I wonder if I misunderstood somehow.
But no, Richard had meant exactly what he said. He wants to do to me what his older brother has been doing to him, sticking his dick up his butt. And he's willing to pay a whole dollar for it!
I try to imagine such a thing and I shake my head sharply, as if to dislodge the thought by force. It can't be true, can it? But why would Richard say so if it wasn't? How would a 9-year-old even think of that unless his brother really did it?
No, I can't do that, can I? It would sure be nice to make a whole dollar at once, but no. I've kind of played around with my butthole in the bathtub a few times and it feels kind of nice to just tickle it a little, and OK maybe I put my fingertip just barely inside once out of curiosity, but it wasn't a sex thing.
I sure as hell don't want some kid putting his dick in there, especially not Richard who slams so hard. He said it doesn't hurt that bad. That means it does hurt, just not real bad. And it would be dirty too, right? I mean, that's where the poop comes out!
I'm grateful when the door opens and a boy steps in because it forces the crazy butt thoughts out of my head, but then my heart drops when I see the kid's face. It's Kevin, my neighbor from across the street and one of the friends we played ball with yesterday and tried so hard to keep from knowing all this!
Kevin grins at me like a Jack O' Lantern.
"You're not foolin', are you Marty? You're really gonna suck my dick?"
It's weird since he's one of my best friends, but not nearly as weird as thinking about Richard's dick up my ass. And I had no problem sucking Jerry, who is my very best friend. I decide it isn't weird with Kevin at all.
"Sure," I say. "You got your quarter?"
Kevin grins as he pulls the coin out of his cutoff jeans and hands it over. "Oh boy," he says gleefully, "this is gonna be good!"
"Take all your clothes off," I instruct, and he grins even wider as he strips off his shirt.
"I love to be naked," he says. "Naked is fun. And sexy!"
In seconds he's in the buff and his small stiff cock is angling so sharply upward the head is touching his belly. That's partly because his dick has a pronounced upward curve, another thing I've never seen before.
"Lay down on the sleeping bags," I say, and he's there in a flash. He opens his legs as wide as he can, and I notice that his hairless ball sack is quite large even though his dick is only average sized for ten years old. I find the contrast very appealing.
I have to find a comfortable neck position to accommodate his curve but I finally do. Kevin writhes and squirms his way through an 11 or 12-minute blow job, culminating in a heaving, full-on dry orgasm that leaves him shuddering and shaking for half a minute afterward.
"Thanks a lot, Marty!" he says with genuine gratitude as he dresses. "I wish I had another quarter! Maybe I can get one tomorrow. Would that be OK?"
"Sure," I say. "Just talk to Jerry."
"Hey, when you're done here you wanna play catch in my backyard?"
"Sure," I say. "I'll come over later."
"Cool. Bye!" Kevin chirps and steps out.
I'm not sure what I was expecting but my friendship with Kevin seems to be exactly the same as before, plus blow jobs. It works for me.
The door opens again almost immediately and to my surprise two boys step in together. Two very small boys, who I recognize as Jeffy and Joey, the 7-year-old Easterbrook twins from the next block. I'm shocked into silence that Jerry recruited kids so young.
"Hi Marty!" Jeffy says — or maybe it's Joey. They are both grinning ear-to-ear. "Jerry says you'll suck our wieners. Will you really?"
"Sure," I say. I figure if they're here they must be into it. "Do you each have a quarter?"
Joey — or maybe it's Jeffy — opens his little fist and shows me two quarters. "Don't tell our Mom, OK?" he says. "We're not allowed to take money out of our piggy bank unless she says so."
"Don't worry," I say. "I won't be telling anybody about this."
"Good!" they say in perfect stereo and when I laugh they look at me uncomprehendingly.
I accept the coins and say, "Take off all of your clothes."
They don't hesitate or question it, just begin awkwardly undressing. I end up helping them, which injects a jolt of weirdness, but as their cute little naked bodies come into view I get over it fast.
Jeffy has a boner but Joey does not. Or maybe... Well, you know.
"Come lay down over here, side by side," I say, and they immediately comply. They are very cute little boys with light brown hair, matching eyes and sweet, soft little bodies. I can barely see their nipples they are so tiny. Each boy is stretched out, legs straight and arms by his sides.
I smile and they smile back. "Open your legs," I say and the limp one puts his left leg over his brother's right while the erect one lifts his head so the other can put his arm underneath for a pillow. This looks so practiced and comfortable I'm sure they lie like this all the time. I slide in with my face inches from the stiff dick but look to the other twin's face.
"Does yours ever get hard?"
The boy nods and says, "Uh-huh. Joey, make it get hard."
Joey grins and reaches straight for his brother's crotch, taking the little pink dick between his thumb and forefinger and giving it some gentle strokes. It rapidly inflates into a carbon-copy of the one in front of me.
"Nice," I say. "How would you like me to do it? Should I suck one for a long time and then suck the other one, or should I go back and forth?"
"One at a time," they say together, and I don't even laugh because I know now that they do that all the time.
I lean in and take Joey's two inches between my lips. It's nice and hard, although shorter than any I've had yet. It's sweet, fresh and tasty and I really like it. He smells great too, but not like the great sexy smell of the older boys. More like a freshly-bathed baby.
I suck and suck but the boy shows none of the urgency of the others, no desperate striving to get his feeling. He's just lying back enjoying it, and I know he is in fact enjoying it because he's making occasional cooing sounds, running his fingers through my hair and tenderly caressing my cheeks. I know that Joey is never going to get the feeling but just as I'm about to declare that his time is up he says, "Do my brother now. It's his turn."
I shift over to the other smiling twin and restart the whole process. It's deja vu all over again, an identical rerun of the previous ten minutes; very very pleasant but not tremendously sexy.
When I finally back away and announce, "That's enough you guys," they both grin and give sincere thanks. They need help with their pullover shirts but not their shorts and shoes.
Just as Joey is reaching for the door to leave Jeffy grins at me and says, "It was great, Marty. Even better than when Joey does it!"
Joey smiles and says to his brother, "We'll both do it better from now on 'cause we learned new things from Marty."
It takes me about a minute to close my mouth.
Five more boys come and go, none of whom I know by name. It's getting very routine and even while I revel in the parade of cocks I find myself looking for little extras to perk up my interest. One kid has a really elongated dickhead that is pretty fun to slurp and trace with my tongue. Another has a lot of extra skin on the underside right below the scar, and while it's interesting it doesn't increase the fun very much.
Dylan, the biggest boy of the five, has a very small dick, not much longer than the twins but, to be fair, at least twice as thick. He's also interesting because he makes soft little appreciative sounds pretty much the whole time, calling my name and telling me how much he loves it.
He gets to a little mini-climax really fast but I don't stop because it's only been about a minute and I don't want to gyp him. I keep sucking and he goes another five minutes or so, all the time with these soft exclamations, until as he cums a second time he blurts that he loves me. Not it, not the blow job.
Me.
"I love you!" he grunts, but seconds later when he comes down from the clouds Dylan barely looks at me and hurries out of the shed still pulling on his t-shirt.
Weird, but interesting.
The last two boys are completely normal, average and boring. They have a good time, each gets his feeling in ten minutes or so and everybody's happy, but when they're gone I barely remember what they looked like.
I'm dying to be done for the day, but just as I'm about to step outside and say so the door opens and a broadly smiling Jerry steps in.
"Oh, please Jerry," I entreat him. "Please say there are no more boys outside. My lips are sore and I need something to drink so bad I think I'm going to die."
He hesitates. "There are no more boys outside," he says and I smile. "The thing is, I brought you eight boys today and our deal says if I bring you eight boys I get a free blow job. All day I've been watching boys come out of here with great big smiles on their faces and now my dick is so hard it's gonna break off!"
I can't hide my disappointment and I'm about five seconds from whining like an overtired toddler. "Shit!" I say softly, but a deal's a deal and so I wave him toward the pile of sleeping bags and glumly say, "OK, I'll do it."
Jerry doesn't move. Finally he says, "I don't want some crappy suck just to get it over with. I did my part and I earned a good blow job! In fact, it ought to be the best one you've given all day!"
His words sink in and I realize that he's absolutely right. I owe him my very best, but I just don't think I can do it right now.
"You're right, Jerry," I say. "But could you maybe hold out another half an hour? I really need a rest, a can of Coke and a pee. How about we come back after that and I'll give you a really good one, better and longer than anybody else!"
Jerry's big smile returns.
Thanks for reading Part 1 of 100 Quarters. Part 2 will be along shortly.
If you like my stuff have a look at my story archive here on my Prolific Authors page.
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