Date: Mon, 12 Jul 2010 18:17:12 +0100 From: tooluser@hushmail.com Subject: Brave enough part 2 Brave Enough Chapter 2 by ToolUser (C) July 2010 This story is fiction. No similarity to real persons either alive or dead is intended. It is a fantasy, and not intended as a guide to sexual practices in the real world, where such activities may be illegal, unwise, or both. If it is illegal for you to read and whack off to harmless fantasies of this nature, please change your government. I'd like to thank all of you who emailed with encouragement and comments. I realize that this story is about as accurate a representation of prostitution as Disney's depiction of circus life. Still - I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Best wishes, Tooluser. Comments, suggestions and criticisms are all very much appreciated! Please send email to: tooluser@hushmail.com * * * Ben looked around the comfortably furnished room and then at the beautiful boy lying next to him. He shrugged uncomfortably. "I don't want to do anything *to* you," he said. "I mean, not *make* you. And I can't think of anything a straight boy would want to do with a guy." "See?" Andy said. "See where honesty gets you? Now you're all tangled up in your head trying to second-guess me. It's a waste of time. Time that you're paying for, too." He rolled over on the bed and stretched, yawning. Ben felt strange. In a way this was familiar territory. He looked at Andy's lean body knowing he was unwelcome: that the boy's fantasies were normal ones of big-breasted nympho cheerleaders, not of hairy chests, big cocks and strong hands. He was a pervert; he was coercing this boy. Just because he was using money rather than muscle didn't make it any less a forced act. "Hey." Andy was leaning over him. He smiled that enchanting crooked grin again. "Penny for your thoughts. Not that I need to spend it - you're doing guilt, right?" "Yeah." Ben looked away, staring at the ornate wallpaper. "I'm fucking you up." Andy chuckled. "Don't knock yourself, Tiger. I haven't had a good fuck like that for a while." Andy jiggled Ben's shoulder. "Look at me, come on. Don't hide away." He waited until Ben looked back at him. "I'm not gay," he said, "but I like sex. Sex with girls, sex with guys, it's all sex." The boy's face was beautiful: as calm as the face of an angel, and as strong. Ben stared, drinking it in. "But you'd rather sex with girls." Andy shrugged. "Yes and no. Thing is, most girls think they're doing you such a favor by opening their legs, it's insulting. Guys don't do that. And afterwards a lot of girls think they damned well own you, and it gets messy. Guys are more 'see you around, buddy.' It's cool." He sighed. "Roll over, Tiger. On your back." Mystified, Ben did so. Andy shuffled down the bed, leaned over Ben's flaccid dick, and licked along it. Ben drew breath to protest, but Andy tapped him sharply on the stomach. He licked at Ben's dick again, extending his tongue and tickling the sensitive head. Ben gasped as he felt the boy take his stiffening cock into his mouth. The boy was lovely: a living sculpture. His smooth, tanned skin glowed, and his slender adolescent figure was wholly graceful. Ben watched the muscles in Andy's neck as he bobbed his head up and down, sliding the thick man-cock back and forth between his red lips, his cheeks hollowing every time he sucked. Ben could feel the boy's expert tongue licking, prodding and teasing him. Feel too how the boy alternated using the ridged roughness of his hard palate and the softer flesh further back to stimulate Ben's cock. As Ben got more excited, he thought Andy did as well; the boy encouraged him to thrust up off the bed into his mouth, slurping loudly on his hard rod. The boy took his hand away from Ben's cock, holding it captive only with his mouth, and Ben groaned at the sight, humping harder and faster between Andy's gleaming lips. He could feel the boy's drool running down over his balls; see it glistening on his bone hard shaft. "God!" Ben gasped, balancing on shoulders, elbows and heels, arching and thrusting urgently up into the boy's teasing, suctioning mouth. "Fuck," he panted, "you're so good!" He could feel his balls tightening, an increasing urge - "Look out!" he gasped, at the last frayed edge of control. "Gonna cum!" He'd expected Andy to pull away, but the boy sucked him harder, and Ben arched his back, grunting as he shoved his cock deep and spurted into that hot wetness; shot after ecstatic shot as he clenched his fingers into the coverlet. Ben whimpered at the movements of the boy's soft mouth and tongue as he swallowed, gulping down his ball-juice as he spurted, trembling, again and again until he slumped, gasping, back onto the bed. Andy sat up, and brushed his hair back into place. He smiled, his lips glossy with cum. "I thought," Ben panted, "thought you'd want to pull back." Andy grinned. "And I knew you didn't want me to. You wanted that nice big dick of yours kept warm while you spurted cum into my schoolboy mouth. Didn't you." It was a statement, not a question; his level gaze was a challenge. "Yes," Ben admitted, finally. "But-" Andy reached out and laid his finger across Ben's lips. "If guys like you didn't want to, I wouldn't get to go to college. So don't apologize, okay?" "But you're a kid! You're supposed to be doing kid stuff!" "What, playing Nintendo and getting fat?" Andy poked Ben in the side, his smile teasing. "Besides, who says dick-fun isn't kid stuff?" "Er, pretty much everyone, I think," Ben said. Andy shrugged. "So I'm in a minority. Last time I heard, that didn't make me wrong." He looked at the clock. "Time's getting on. So if you want to do anything else, you better do it now." "Andy," Ben felt stupid, but he had to ask. "You did like what we just did, didn't you?" Andy looked at him and smiled. Not his usual cocky little half-grin, but a real smile. He patted Ben's cheek tenderly. "You're a really nice guy, Tiger. Makes me wish I wasn't straight. I don't know why it's always me who meets the nice guys while Jase gets all the freaks." He shrugged. "Life's a bitch, I suppose. Yes, I did like it. I told you: I like sex, and sex with guys is still sex." He looked at the clock again. Ben got the hint. "Uh," he said. "Uh, can I touch you?" Andy blinked, visibly biting back some smart retort. "Sure," he said. "You want me to lie on my back?" Ben nodded, unable to speak. His mouth was dry, and his hands were shaking. They felt hot and two sizes too large. Andy stretched out on the bed, smiling. His expression was so kind and trusting Ben felt his heart would burst. He wanted to stroke the boy's neck, feel his shoulders and his smooth chest, run his fingers over the lean markings of his developing muscles. He wanted to brush his thumb over the boy's lips and feel him smile, stroke his cheek and slide his fingers over the sensitive skin behind his ear. He wanted to slip his arm beneath the boy's back and pull him close, feeling his breath against his collarbone and the slow beat of his heart. Wanted to feel the heaviness of Andy's body lying on him and the soft rhythm of his breath while he slept. He wanted to touch the boy. He lay down next to Andy, close enough to feel the heat from his body. Andy blinked up at him, trusting, but stiffened when Ben slid his arm beneath the boy's neck. "What?" Ben stroked Andy's shoulder, gentling him. "Just be careful." Andy gave him a level look. "Remember where you are." "Oh." Ben stroked his hand down over one of Andy's nipples. "I wasn't going to hurt you." "Oh, brother." Andy rolled his eyes. "Of course you weren't. I wasn't worried about me. Anyway, we haven't got time for any kinky stuff now, even if you wanted to do it." He sat up, moving out of Ben's clumsy embrace. "Can't I touch you?" Ben asked, aware he was begging. "Sure," Andy said. He stood up and moved toward the chair where his clothes lay neatly folded. "You just got to put another dime in the meter, okay?" He looked sternly at Ben as he stepped into his undershorts. "Oh, sure. Can I see you tomorrow?" Ben asked. "Busy," Andy said, briefly. "The rest of this week, too." He slid his pants up his slender legs and paused in the act of buttoning them. "Look," he said. "I know you wanted me to be honest, but I don't have to be cruel, do I?" That enchanting little half-smile had returned to his face. "Anyway, even if you don't like stories, I like being a boy of mystery, okay?" Ben laughed, although he felt his insides clench at the sudden cascade of images; of Andy doing what they'd just done together with other men: strangers. "You're seeing a lot of other guys?" Ben knew it was a mistake the moment he said it. Andy looked annoyed. "It's just sex, not some sort of holy fucking communion," he said. "Lighten up, okay? I don't go for that possessive crap." "So when can I see you then?" "Another time." Andy jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "There's plenty more chicken out there, go find it." Ben's face must have shown the numb hurt he felt, for after a moment Andy's expression softened. "I'm sorry. But we get a lot of crazies in this job, yeah? And big alarm bells for me is when a guy gets possessive. Before you know it they're checking up on what you say, leaving messages, following you around -" he flapped his hand, "- and it gets crazier, believe me." For a moment it looked like he was going to say more, but he didn't. "Don't look like that." Andy took a step closer to the bed, and gripped Ben's shoulder. "C'mon. We can meet up again, but remember it's just for fun, okay?" He smiled that toothpaste-ad smile again. "Anyway, you don't want to go falling for straight boys: they're all heart-breakers, trust me. Hm?" Ben nodded, and manufactured a smile in return. "Okay." He shrugged, trying for lightness. "Pick a date. My diary's pretty blank, right now." "Good. Maybe the week after next, okay? I'll text you, if you like, or leave a message with Marcus." Ben managed a shrug: "Whatever," Andy smiled at him like he'd passed some kind of test, and winked. "That's it, Tiger." He finished buttoning his pants and slipped his shirt on, his movements neat and efficient. Ben tried, and failed, to keep his eyes away from the boy's lean beauty as he dressed. "I'll be in touch," Andy said as he scooped up his jacket on the way to the door. He opened it, and then paused to look back. He cocked his fingers like a miniature hand-gun and clicked his tongue behind his teeth, aiming at Ben. "Stay a stranger, okay?" he said, softly. Then the door swung shut and he was gone. *** Ben stood on the too-familiar top step outside the boarding house. "There's still no message for me?" he asked. "The young man has still left no message for you." Marcus said, his face expressionless. Had Marcus placed a faint emphasis on 'you', Ben wondered? The days after his session with Andy had dragged by. Ben had been aware that his work was suffering: he was hardly able to think of anything except Andy. The sight of him; the heat of his smooth lean body; the sound of his voice. The sex had been great, but it wasn't what Ben thought about. Well, not as often, anyway. The first week passed with no text from "Andy" and Marcus denied having any message from him either. Two weeks passed, and then another. Ben had checked his phone regularly but with diminishing hope as the three weeks became four. Yet here he was, again. Ben shifted on the step, and swallowed. "He said he was going to send me a message." Marcus raised both white, Santa Claus eyebrows. "And yet there is no word. Perhaps this is the message he wants you to get, don't you think?" Ben leaned closer, feeling desperate. "Can I come in?" Marcus half-closed the door. "You are not a member, sir. To join, you must be proposed by a member, and seconded by two more." He paused, looking up thoughtfully at Ben. "If I may be so bold, sir, your current conduct is not improving your chances of membership." "What would improve my chances?" Ben hated that sound of weakness in his voice, but couldn't seem to help himself. "We look for strength of character," Marcus said, his blue eyes cold. "Plus common sense, and a lack of selfishness." "Plus a great deal of money," Ben added nastily. Marcus nodded with irritating calm. "However, the lack of it can be offset by tact, sir. Goodbye." He closed the door. Ben restrained himself from banging on the door. "Fine!" he said between his teeth. "Fuck you and your chicken sanctuary. I'll go find my own." *** The sun beat in through the window, first on the driver's side, then the passenger side as Ben circled the grid. The hot air smelled harsh: of old, boiling coffee from the factory a few streets over. The light reflected diamond hard from the storefront windows and the windshields of the parked vehicles. Boys stood, pretending to read notices, or playing penny-toss, or just leaning on something, watching the traffic pass. Boys with their shirts off. Boys with them on, half unbuttoned, or cut short. Boys in long pants that hung down in back, or short-shorts that clung like a second skin. Sun-blonded boys with peach-soft skins, pale punks with attitude, and dark, curly haired boys with eyes like sweet chocolate. Ben drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he circled the narrow, trash-strewn streets. It was hopeless. It wasn't that the boys were ugly - he was sure they each had their individual charms. When he'd slowed at the intersections he'd seen the looks: bright keen eyes - or a careful pose of indifference tempered with availability. For his part he'd not been wholly indifferent; he'd seen the apricot afternoon sunlight glowing on the gentle curves of a boy's arm. The tightening of neck tendons beneath kissable skin as a head turned to follow his old sedan. His heart - and his dick - had responded to the careful positioning as a boy showed a lean waist or the curve of a tight-clad ass. They knew him: knew his type; knew he was there - but they weren't what he wanted. He wanted Andy. One more lap. He'd circle one more time and then choose a boy, any boy. He'd be thinking about Andy anyway, so what difference did it make if the boy was good looking or not? He'd be lusting for Andy's body: all lean, tendon strung; the feel of his smooth skin; imagining the scent as he kissed it, sweat-musty and sweet. What random boy could compete with that? *That* one, Ben decided: the boy stood reading a notice. Dark haired and short, as different from Andy as possible. His black jeans hung low in back and his striped top didn't quite meet them, exposing a creamy strip of skin. Ben slowed the car and the youngster cocked a bright blue eye in his direction. His face was snub-nosed, heavily freckled - and not Andy's. Ben slowed and leaned toward the window as if asking for directions. The boy came over. His quick, inquisitive gaze flicked Ben over from head to foot, assessing. "Fifteen," was all the boy said. Ben snorted. "No way you're fifteen. I'll give you a dollar for every hair you've got lower than your neck. Bet you I'd get change from a ten." "It'll cost you that just to look for 'em, mister." The boy stared at him, one dark-lashed, blue eye half closed; squinting against the sun. "You on?" Ben lifted the handle and pushed the door open. "Let's ride while we talk it over." "Neat." The boy grinned at him as he got in. He was by no means beautiful; not even pretty, but his perky attitude and the high treble of his voice had a charm all of their own. "You didn't really think I was fifteen?" he asked as they drove off. "No." Ben let go the steering wheel to waggle his hand. "About ten, right?" "Nearly eleven!" the boy protested. "I got my birthday next month. I'm gonna have a party at Mickey Dee's!" He wriggled on the seat, unable to contain his excitement. "Jelly and ice-cream, huh? Is that what this is for?" Ben hung a right, following the block. "Naaaw. My uncle Pete, he's paying for it. Only he's not really my uncle, you know?" "Uh-huh." Ben felt a definite stirring of interest in his pants. "You do things together?" "Sure we do. That's what this is for - his birthday's just two days after mine. I wanna get him a nice present. A good bottle of bourbon, maybe." "Won't you have trouble buying that?" The boy looked scornful. "Course not. I'll just suck some old guy and he'll buy it for me. That's twenty-five, by the way." "For you sucking me?" Ben tried to concentrate on the road. There wasn't much traffic, but suddenly he was having trouble steering. "Uh-huh, and I'll swallow everything, so you don't have to worry about mess." The boy's voice was cool and practical, with no trace of guilt. Ben was feeling enough guilt for both of them. His cock was hard; just the thought of the small boy's mouth massaging it was unbearably exciting. But still - this was a little kid! "Did your uncle make you do stuff?" Ben asked, feeling sick. "That's private," the kid said. "I got to be careful, or he could get in trouble." "Oh, sorry." Absently, Ben hung another right. The kid wasn't stupid. Maybe naive: mentioning to strangers about his uncle, but that wasn't the same. The kid's voice interrupted his thoughts. "You don't want me?" "What?" Ben looked over at the little kid, who gestured out of the window. "We're going back to where you picked me up." The kid looked anxious. "You can touch me all over for fifteen, not just my dickie." "Oh, right." Somehow that put a different complexion on it - having to actually reject the kid. "No, I want you." Ben managed a companionable smile. "You know somewhere quiet we can go?" He wasn't too sure about his welcome at the boarding house, especially after the last encounter with Marcus. The little imp had gone silent. When Ben looked over, the kid was eying him nervously. "What?" Ben gestured toward the next right turn ahead. "Or you want me to drop you off?" "I don't wanna go too far," the boy said. "There's a lot back of the furniture store, only we got to be quiet. People would hear if there was any yelling." "Oh. Gotcha." Ben looked at his little companion with new respect. "But you don't need to worry about me - I don't like hurting boys. I'm Ben. What do you usually call yourself?" "Mike," the boy said. "Or Mickey. You need to go left at the next junction, and then down the alleyway next the big yellow hardware store." He squirmed round in the seat to look at Ben directly, his top riding up to show his tummy. "You're new, aren't you? Pretty much everyone knows the lot. A lot of guys just go straight there." "Yeah, that's right," Ben said, turning onto the street the boy had indicated. "I'm new around here." There it was: a big yellow sign - 'Brandon's Budget Hardware.' He slowed and turned down the narrow, trash-strewn alleyway. "There are boys who just work the lot, huh?" "Hey!" Mickey said. "If you're dumping me, you have to drop me off back where you found me. Word gets around here, you know, if you're not nice." "I'm not dumping you," Ben said. The dark brick of the alley walls pressed close, and the wheeled dumpsters made it narrower still, but he risked a glance aside at the boy. "Just relax, okay?" "Oh, good." Mickey smiled. "It's just you haven't touched me or anything." Ben smiled. "Don't worry - I'll touch you plenty in a minute." The brick-walled alleyway ended and they emerged into a large lot. It was enclosed on three sides by the unlovely backs of commercial premises, but boys' shouts came loud from the fourth, where wire netting divided off a basketball court and a skateboard area. Cars and commercial trucks were parked here and there; the lot seemed about a third full. Ben looked over at Mickey. "Boy central, huh? How come you're not working it?" Mickey half-lifted a small shoulder. "I do, sometimes." He looked quickly at Ben and then away again. "There's a good place," he said, pointing. "By the big trucks. It'll be private." It was also the furthest point from the other kids, Ben noted. "Glad you trust me," he said. "What?" Mickey looked puzzled. "I thought you wanted other kids within call - with me being a stranger, and all that." Ben said as he pulled up next to a large removal van, and set the brake. "Oh." The boy shrugged. "If you were a meanie, you'd know about the lot already, and wouldn't want to come here. The boys who work this place are real tight." He giggled, looked at the back seat and then at Ben. "You want me to take my things off, or not? You still haven't said." "I haven't?" Ben's cock was rock hard with anticipation. "I'd really like you to strip off, slowly, and then touch you all over, and finish off with sucking. That okay with you?" Mickey grinned and held out a small hand, palm up. Ben counted forty dollars into it. "You really are nice," Mickey said as he folded the money neatly and tucked it into his pants pocket. "Lots of guys argue and say they'll pay after." "Oh? What do you tell them?" "I don't - I just get out. Cheap johns like that are more trouble than it's worth." Mickey fiddled with the seat and then folded it forward so that he could climb over into the back. Ben found his eyes drawn to the boy's sagging black jeans. They were loose-fitting, but as Mickey scrambled over the folded-down seat, he briefly saw the boy's neat little ass outlined. The jeans sagged down in back, and the thin white cotton of the boy's undershorts clung to his slender body. The broad elasticated band - stitched with "Jockey" over and over - hugged his tiny waist. "You're really cute," Ben said, turning half around so he could see the boy on the back seat. "Naaw," Mickey said dismissively. "I'd be working the lot, else." He began pulling his striped top off over his head. There was no sign of muscle at all on the boy's chest. He looked soft: not fat, but unformed. A little thin, too - as though his body had been accidentally fitted with a skeleton a half-size too large. Ben could see the boy's bones beneath his smooth skin, but the effect wasn't grotesque. It was just that he seemed to see the whole of the boy's neat, tight-knitted frame, not just the envelope of his skin. His neck was slender and his stomach gently rounded. His nipples were mere pink goose-bumps. Mickey pulled his head through the neck hole and tossed his top aside. "You want to sit on the folded-down seat, mister?" he said. "Then you could help me with my sneakers." Ben climbed over and sat on the hard seat back, facing the boy. "When did you last change your socks?" he asked. Mickey grinned. "Not a smell-freak, huh? 'S okay - I put 'em on clean before I came out, and I showered, too." "Like for a date, almost," Ben said, then stopped, shocked at himself. Only a little while ago he wouldn't have considered a boy this age should know anything about dating. Mickey rolled his eyes. "Boy, do you need a boyfriend, mister! You'd know the difference then, all right!" He pulled at the laces and eased one sneaker off, letting it thud to the floor. "I would?" Ben felt happy, just watching the boy undressing. "Sure you would." The other sneaker thudded down to join its companion. "I mean, when I'm going to meet my guy, I think about him all the time, and when I'm washing I'm thinking about him touching me, and when I'm choosing what to wear, I'm thinking about what he'll want to get off me fastest -" Mickey sighed happily and stared out the window, smiling to himself. "I think your uncle Pete's a real lucky guy," Ben said. Mickey jumped. "What? Oh." He sighed, and thumped a little fist against his head. "He'd be a lot luckier if I could learn to keep my mouth shut. One day I'm really gonna mess up." He looked directly at Ben. "You're one of us, aren't you? You're not going to tell." "I won't tell," Ben said. "Anyone." Mickey smiled, relieved. "Thanks," he said, un-snapping his jeans. "I get stupid when he's been away too long." "Don't tell me too much," Ben said, watching as Mickey slid his jeans down. "Maybe I'm stupid, too." "Horny, anyway," Mickey said, looking knowingly at Ben's crotch. "You want to show me?" "Okay." Ben began unbuttoning his flies. He couldn't take his eyes off the boy sitting in his back seat, elbows on knees, legs casually spread, wearing just white ankle sport-socks and white cotton Jockey shorts. There was definitely more than just a bulge beneath that cotton: little Mickey was as hard as he was. Ben levered his hard cock out into the air, and Mickey sighed. "You want to take your shorts off?" Ben asked. Mickey stared at Ben's cock, mesmerized, "Sure," he said, then looked up at him, obviously dragging his gaze away from Ben's cock. "I just didn't know if you wanted to take 'em off me." He hooked his thumbs into his waistband and shucked them down. The little fingerlength of his hard dickie flicked up again as the waistband released it. "You are cute," Ben said, admiring the boy's pale, hairless body. "I don't care if you disagree - I think you're lovely." Mickey flushed. "You want me to suck you first? Only I reckon otherwise you might shoot off, accidentally." He looked up, an earnest expression in his blue eyes. "I'm not trying to get out of you touching me," he said. "Only you're nice, and I wouldn't want you getting in trouble with stains or anything." "Oh yeah." Ben felt his cock twitch. "You said you'd swallow. Okay then." He spread his legs apart, and Mickey slid down to kneel in the footwell. "Mmmm." Mickey said, staring at Ben's cock. He licked his lips. "You like it, huh?" "Yeah." Mickey said. "Big and fat." He leaned forward and looked into Ben's open fly. "Lots of hair, too," he added. "Neat! I bet your balls are really big, as well." "You like hair?" Ben asked, surprised. "Sure! I like guys, not boys." Mickey patted Ben's waist. "You're skinnier than most, but it's okay." "Thanks," Ben drawled, and Mickey looked up, contrite. "Sorry," he said. "I was forgetting. It's just I like cuddly guys - no offense." "It's okay." Ben ruffled the hair at the back of Mickey's neck, and then stroked his shoulder. "I'm not offended. It's good you know what you like." Mickey smiled, his kid-teeth like little pearls. "It sure helps," he agreed. He reached out and ran his little forefinger down Ben's throbbing meat, tracing a vein down from just below the swollen head and then stroking the hair that poked out of Ben's fly. He giggled as Ben's cock twitched. "Please mister," he said, "will you just unfasten your pants so I can see?" He looked up. "It's okay: it's safe here." "Sure." Ben couldn't resist the pleading in those blue eyes. He tugged open his belt and then unbuttoned his jeans and shorts. "Neat," the boy breathed. He stroked Ben's pubes and his lower stomach. "Can I feel your balls too? Uncle Pete likes me holding his while I suck him." Ben just smiled and spread his legs. Mickey dived both hands into Ben's shorts like he was unpacking his favorite toybox. "Yeah!" he said with obvious satisfaction, cradling Ben's balls in his little hands. "All big and hairy." He leaned down and kissed the tip of Ben's cock, then lapped the bead of pre-cum off with just the tip of his pink tongue. "Mmmm!" Mickey looked up, smiling wickedly and licking his lips, spreading Ben's pre-cum like lip salve. He leaned forward and kissed the tip of Ben's cock, holding it against the warmth of his slick lips. He opened his mouth, a little boy's mouth: surely too small for his big, throbbing meat, Ben thought. Wider, stretching his mouth open, and then leaning forward; taking almost the whole of Ben's wide cockhead inside. His lips rested just on the flaring ridge, and Ben felt the little tickle of the boy's tongue just below his piss-slit. The feel of the boy's hot mouth excited him, but not as much as the sight of the boy kneeling in front of him, submissive, trusting and excited. Ben groaned as he felt Mickey's expert tongue writhe against his cockhead, and then the boy took more into the hot cave of his little mouth. "Go on," Ben whispered. "Go on." Mickey leaned forward, and Ben felt the boy's squirming tongue against the underside of his cock as the boy slid his mouth down. The slightly rough feel tingled down the length of his cock to his balls. Ben gasped Mickey sucked and felt his cockhead swell in the slick warmth of the boy's mouth. "Mmm!" he grunted as Mickey began moving his mouth up and down. "Oh! Oh! You're good!" Mickey was only moving his head a little, in a gentle nodding motion. From the jigging of the boy's smooth little shoulder, Ben guessed he was rubbing his little pricklet too. "You like that!" Ben said, smiling. "I can tell." "Mmmm!" Mickey hummed assent as he took more of Ben's cock into his mouth, sending lovely vibrations through its hard length. To Ben, Mickey's tongue; his lips; his whole mouth felt one caress: sucking and slippery hot. He sucked harder, writhing his tongue over Ben's prick, hollowing his cheeks. Ben stared at the red ring of the boy's stretched lips, disbelieving as the boy took more hard man-cock into that little mouth - almost half of his pole was now slippery-shining as it slid back and forth. Ben could feel his cock bumping against the soft pressure of the back of the boy's mouth: he'd never felt so hard. Each slurping, vacuum suck felt better than the last: exquisite torture as the boy sucked harder, faster. The boy's eyes were now tight closed as he pumped his mouth up and down on Ben's cock. He was breathing faster now, little grunts that fueled Ben's own excitement; the rhythm accelerating. "Yes! Oh, yes!" Ben gasped, clenching his fists on his thighs. His balls ached, heavy and full, but not as much as his cock as the boy pistoned his slick, sucking mouth, faster and faster until - "G- c'm!" Ben grunted, a bare heartbeat before the first convulsion shot his sperm the aching length of his hard cock. "UHHH!" He felt the boy gulp it down; he groaned at the sensation, arching his hips as he felt his cock spurt again, gasping as the spurts continued, shooting into the boy's slick, hot mouth. "Ahh!" Ben gasped again and grabbed the seat for balance. He felt utterly done. Mickey released Ben's glistening cock and looked up. "You okay, mister?" "Sure," Ben said. "I just forgot I was sitting on the seat-back, is all." "Tried to lean against it, huh?" Mickey stayed squatting in the footwell and grinned up at him. "Don't worry, I would have let go your balls." "Thanks for that!" Ben said, steadying himself. "I guess I'm not the first, maybe not even the first dozen, huh?" Mickey giggled. "I ain't saying, but yeah. Cuddly guys I make get in the back seat, ever since Mister Whipple nearly got stuck." "Mister Whipple?" Ben smiled at the sticky-faced little boy. Mickey was still fondling his balls, stroking and twining the hair about his little fingers. "Oh, the boys call him that on account of he shoots a lot of cream. He likes to shoot on my face though, so it can get kinda messy. Bobby says he never needs to buy hair-gel. You gonna climb in the back seat now?" "The back seat?" Ben was still distracted by the mental image of his cock shooting cum-pearls over Mickey's cute little freckles. Of the boy rubbing the wet cock-head over his cheeks and along his jaw, finally lapping daintily at the last, milky dribble pulsing from the slit. "Oh." The little boy's face fell. "It's okay. You don't have to do touching if you don't want to." Ben patted the boy's shoulder. "'Course I want to - I was just off in cum-land, you know?" Something in his throat caught at the way the boy immediately brightened, slipping his hands out of Ben's shorts and patting his dick affectionately. Ben clambered into the back seat and Mickey sat on his lap. The boy's eyes were almost exactly level with Ben's own. "Can I put my arm round your shoulders?" Mickey asked. "Sure, I'd like that." Ben stroked the boy's shoulder and then down his side, bare skin like silk beneath his fingertips. Mickey leaned against him heaved a sigh that seemed to come up from his toes. The heavy warmth of the boy's company felt exactly right to Ben. He slid his arm around Mickey's back: the boy's size meshed with some unarticulated need, filling a numb vacancy Ben had been accustomed to feeling all his life. He wrapped both arms around Mickey, stroking the boy's shoulder, his side, his hip. Mickey's boy-proportions felt exactly as they should be. He stroked one hand up to Mickey's neck and pulled the boy's head down comfortably against his shoulder. Ben kissed the crown of the boy's head before he realized that perhaps he shouldn't. "Is that okay?" he asked, half-fuddled by the heady boy-fragrance he was breathing. "Only I feel like I'm in Uncle Pete's territory, if you know what I mean." "'S okay," Mickey said, his voice muffled as he snuggled closer. "He won't mind." He moved a little, and Ben relaxed his hug slightly. Mickey looked up at him, staring at him for three whole heartbeats. "What?" Ben said. "You okay?" "Yeah. I'm just fixing it in my mind that you ain't Uncle Pete, see? You feel a whole lot like him." "Thank you." Ben said, humbled. "You miss him an awful lot, don't you?" "Yeah." Pain showed in Mickey's face. "Sometimes he's gone whole *weeks*." "It's a long time when your heart's hurting." Ben agreed, cradling Mickey's head onto his shoulder again. "Do you have to go Uncle Pete hunting a lot?" "Yeah." Mickey sighed warmly against Ben's neck. "You want to touch me some more? You can, anywhere, only not inside me, okay?" "Okay." Ben stroked the boy's back. "I'll think of your asshole as having a little 'Reserved for Uncle Pete' sign just above it, huh?" Ben slid a hand down to cup a smooth little asscheek, and then stroked his thumb in a little curve across the base of the boy's spine. "About there, do you think? Mickey giggled and kissed Ben's collarbone. Ben felt that kiss radiate through him. He didn't wonder any longer at why men risked everything to share their lives with boys: he just regretted the years he'd wasted sitting alone in the dark. "Thank you, Mickey," he whispered. End of part 2. * * * Well, I guess that's blown any claims to realism out the window! Comments, suggestions and criticisms are all very much appreciated. Flames ignored. Please send email to: tooluser@hushmail.com