Date: Thu, 16 May 2013 15:35:44 -0400 From: MICHAEL SOROS Subject: Breda's Little Helper Part 6 Disclaimer: This story is the fruit of my imagination. None of these people have ever existed to the best of my knowledge and the town will be found on no map. Accept it as fantasy. Please consider making a donation to keep this site commercial free. Internet services have to be paid for. Think of where you would go if this site disappeared from lack of support? Part 6. Little McGinty Behind the Bar On hearing the shop doorbell ring, Breda assumed a customer had arrived in the same way a spider assumes a fly has come to call when its silk vibrates. Pushing the flowery curtain aside which separated the shop from the hallway, Breda adjusted her eyes assuming that Miss Fitt had arrived unexpectedly having suffered a bout of early sobriety. She hadn't. It was obviously the boy. He took centre floor, proud as punch, put the heavy bag of clothes down and beamed across at Breda. With one hand on her hip, the other banged the counter loudly. "D'ya know what? If we joined up all the freckles on your face we'd come out with one big zero! What are you wearing boy? Is this for a night's work behind the bar?" Little Paddy McGinty was unperturbed. Nothing was going to spoil his moment to show off - a rare enough event in the boy's life. As the eye moved south from the flaming head of red hair perched so abundantly on the boy's head, it ran over a very tight red tee shirt obviously designed for someone younger than its present occupant as it hugged the flesh of the boy completely and didn't connect with the boy's waist either. If it had been his size it would have slipped over the waist of the obscene little shorts he had chosen to wear. They were brown in colour, beige to the more cultured woman, and thin enough to see where his teenage cock was pointing even in this gloom. She could see the elastic of his underwear through the thin material. They barely met the top of his rather smooth thighs which were that bit more muscular than the average boy because of the football. She dreaded to see what they looked like from behind! Following on down the boy's body you came to a long pair of red football or rugby socks starting just below his knees and leading into his trainers. Or what passed as trainers for him. He looked ridiculous to her. She knew it had been a mistake getting that vacant boy to work behind a bar. Who was going to accept drink from a boy looking like a two penny whore? No one that's who! She noticed a pained expression on his face now which she put down to the tightness of the shorts which were not elasticated. She knew they weren't because two brain cells in Breda's brain had just collided. One had just formed looking at the boy and one formed ten years previous. Breda was just about to slap the counter again and then the boy's neck when the cells bumped. Yes! She remembered seeing these shorts before, and ones similar to them. A large scout jamboree had taken place on the McIllhatten estate about ten years ago. Everyone remarked how generous Brendan had been to open up the lower fields to 1000 scouts from all over Europe. Breda had cleaned up as she was the only shop for miles in which the boys could spend their money. Their foreign currency didn't go far in that shop anyway and stretched to some toffee and comics. Few of the foreign scouts could speak English which put them on a par with the locals really and they resented how Breda's calculations of French Francs to the pound was never in their favour. Most of the boys were squeezed into shorts similar to the ones the boy was quite obviously enjoying now, which must be where Brendan found them as he had a very hands on approach to helping the foreign boys that summer. There wasn't a Scandinavian boy whose face didn't light up when Brendan's hand went into his pocket. Then, from the corner of her eye, parked in the gloom at the back of the shop sitting at the counter she spotted Brendan. She'd briefly forgotten about him. "There you are Breda!" he said, lifting a hand up in greeting. "What's a man to do around here to get a drink? I feel like someone's died in my mouth!" He stood up quickly and crossed the floor and approached Breda. "Can I just speak with you there for a minute Miss McGovern" he said in a whisper with his eyes drinking in the boy's body. They walked over to the counter opposite with Breda turning around at the last minute. "Don't just stand there filling space! Get your arse behind the bar and get the man a drink. You're making the place look untidy!" He grabbed his bag - being careful as he bent over as he didn't want to rip those tight little shorts. He had to bend his knees slightly to carry it. He placed it behind the bar and started to pull a pint of stout just as he had been shown earlier in the day. "Let the lad be Breda" whispered Brendan. "Have you ever seen a boy so happy in his new clothes? His mother buys him nothing new and everything is some cast off from a cousin or charity. So if he's happy, I'm happy and I'm the customer. You enjoy your evening with Miss Fitt, have a few drinks yourself and I'll let you know when I'm off. I'll keep a close watch on the boy to see that he doesn't go astray." 'Never a truer word spoken' thought Breda to herself. 'I bet those eyes don't move off him all night.' Not that that was a bad thing she supposed. She liked Brendan around the place. "Well there is an article in the newspaper about Mr Liberace I want to read and discuss with Miss Fitt. Those English papers are saying some scandalous things no decent woman should even know exist in the world Brendan. I was shocked to my very foundations. Something about him being one of those - you know - homosensual gays! Sure how could that be and me with two of his records and Miss Fitt with them all!" She banged her thigh with her clenched fist at the way his name was being dragged through the mud and headed for the curtain to go back to her drawing room. She stopped suddenly, turned sharply and glared across at the head and shoulders of the boy behind the bar opposite. "And you watch yourself too ya little git! These eyes miss nothing. I'll know if there's anything missing. Do what Mr McIllhattan tells you to do. If he gives you any lip just call me out and I'll leather his arse for him. I'm not running a charity here!" And in a cloud of indignation and righteousness she disappeared. The room suddenly got brighter and larger and the crows started chatting again. No sooner had she disappeared when Brendan raced across the room and resumed his seat on the bar stool furthest from the door with a perfect view along the inside of the bar where little Paddy McGinty had just finished pouring the stout and was bringing it down carefully to where he was sitting admiring the view. Raising his glass Brendan looked at the boy and said: "May your troubles be as few as my grandfather's teeth and hope you're in Heaven before the Devil knows you're dead!" Then he lowered most of the pint in one gulp. His mouth was as dry as a nun's joke. The boy was shorter than he had thought and only his chest and head were visible above the counter - but it was below the counter which interested him the most. Those little short shorts really did that bum justice, really lifted and highlighted its perfect half circles. The cleft between the two mounds pulled in the thin material and pulled it up his cheeks so that the bottom, where they met the thighs was just visible. Paddy returned to stand about a third of the way up the bar, away from the window and door. He leaned against the shelves holding the bottles of beer and - to Brendan's shock and delight- opened the top button of the shorts and lowered the zip almost to the end. The man could see the top of a pair of red bikini briefs squeezed in there with a sprinkling of very fine red hair peeping over the top of the elastic. He wasn't looking at Brendan. He was staring at the curtains into Breda's back room. Without breaking his stare he moved his hands to pull down the tight shorts just below his full bottom revealing more of those red little briefs which only came half way up his cheeks anyway so they weren't hiding much. Tucking the front of his brief below his fair sized balls, Paddy pulled out his rock solid teenage cock, pulling on it to let it pump up for maximum viewing. Brendan's heart was beating wildly in his breast and he had put the pint down on the bar lest he should miss something - or drop it on the floor. The boy started to slowly wank himself with his right hand, allowing the man to get a good view and with his left he'd pull on the little briefs. It was obvious to Brendan that that was no amateur hand. That was well practiced. It was gliding up and down that lovely boy cock like a seasoned flute player. He never moved his eyes off the curtain though, but he knew he was being desired, lusted over and watched by this most handsome man. He knew he could hold him captivated by his actions so he slowed down to put off his spunk spraying. He lowered the shorts to his knees and completely lost track of his surroundings. It was as though he had dissolved into a fog in which only Mr Brendan and he were present. The briefs rolled down his bum cheeks from the slap slap slap of his wanking hand. He slowly moved his eyes towards the window to look at the garage forecourt with the intention of letting Brendan get the maximum view of a perfectly formed teenager's arse - his crowning glory. And it was all for the man who had given him the clothes and the happiness he was now feeling. And the lust. The overwhelming lust that was galloping inside his chest. Turning back slowly he once again faced the curtains and couldn't really be sure but felt he saw the shadowed outline of a head looking through the small gap where the curtain met the wall. But he was too far gone and horny to be worried about that now. The man was frozen to his pint. The shop had disappeared. The boy's hand was getting faster and faster and it was obvious he was building up to his orgasm pretty soon. Then he heard that familiar muffled grunt just before the opening of the orgasmic ground beneath the boy. Against a gloomy background Brendan saw a narrow white stream of teenage spunk shoot rapidly across open space and splat against the bottles of beer under the counter. Three times with seemingly equal force. Then a lesser spray, then a much shorter one. Then nothing. Silence. Or almost silence. The sound of Liberace tinkling on the piano could be heard ever so slightly coming down the hallway. The boy was bent over staring at the object in his hand which had given him so much pleasure and reduced him to a state of incapacity. He always felt as though a string had been pulled inside the base of his teenage cock which, like the string on a soldier's day bag, pulled all his body in to that point where he had his intense orgasms. And they were intense. They took him over. This was even stronger though because he was being observed for the first time. Observed and lusted over. Wanted. Desired. And he found it was making his wanking much more intense. He straightened up, pulled back his shoulders and dragged the tight little shorts up his thighs leaving them open below the briefs touching his little spunk makers. His cock hadn't gone down at all. It was still as strong as it was when first released from the little red briefs a few minutes ago. Then he started to move his hand up and over it slowly, noticing how nice it felt in his small hand. How warm and hard. The second time was always better for Paddy. Much more sensual. He could be sexier with the second one. But first - the customer. He walked towards Brendan, with his left hand holding up the shorts lest they fall down completely. They stared at each other and said nothing. They didn't need to. The boy took the empty glass, winked and resumed his position in front of the pump. He let go of the shorts to pull the pint. They fell immediately to the floor displaying the boy's magnificent full bottom with the little red briefs tucked in under the folds of the two cheeks holding them like a hammock. With some difficulty he took his feet out of the shorts and, rather relieved with the freedom, he brought the pint up to the only customer in the shop. A very happy if disturbed customer. What is someone were to walk in? What would they think seeing a young teenage boy in a tight tee shirt and a little pair of bikini briefs and socks standing behind the bar without a care in the world? It would depend on the man of course. And the man in question who was hoping for some of this show too was busy elsewhere preparing himself. Entertaining young Mr Grabsby. The red headed boy in the forecourt this morning had awoken in Ernie feelings he had entirely forgotten. Times past now barely remembered and when they did surface he wondered if they had ever happened at all. Seeing the boy that morning at Breda's shop had set the horses of the past lose and they had come galloping up the tunnel of his memory bring a carriage of emotions with them. He began to remember when he was that age - seeing the boy there this morning was like looking at himself all those years ago. Not physically of course. They looked nothing like one another, but the mentality of the boy. His wanton sluttishness. Keeping his hands in his tight little shorts when the man was talking to him. Keeping his legs open so his underwear could be seen. Behaviour he recognised in himself at that age although he was probably a lot more experienced than young Paddy McGinty was this afternoon. While tarting himself up at home for a rare visit to Breda's Bar, Ernest Grabsby, financial advisor to the McGoverns for the last fifteen years was going to see a previous incarnation of his past self serving at the bar. He wasn't sure how things would pan out but if things went his way he would become a sexual advisor to the young McGinty before the night was out. While brushing his hair to make himself look just that bit younger than his forty years - something he had never done before - the man remembered his own summer when he was leaving his fourteenth year. The labourer he had assisted with the milking and who had felt him up was delighted the boy wanted more. Once they had finished the milking that morning, hosed down the parlour and transferred the milk into the tanks they were free for the morning. With undue haste went back to the man's room which was on the other side of the farmyard above a stable. The room was comfortable enough and showed the occupancy of decades of casual labourers. There was a large window facing out over surrounding fields where the cows, now relieved of their milky burden, were grazing again - those big jaws crunching from side to side. It was possible too that the boy could be relieved of his milky burden as well. Ernie was very excited with unfolding events. He'd had a hint of what was to come when they were in the office and he was eager to see where this was going. He felt he was in experienced capable hands and all he had to do was let the rugged man get on with it. "Just take off the overall and leave your briefs on. You look the business in those" he said on entering the room. He was removing his own clothes at this stage revealing a firm hairy chest, and a firm hard piece of man meat between his thighs. The boy didn't get much of a chance to study or feel it though because he was turned round to face the window. Between the teenager and the window was a comfortable high backed reading chair. Leather. Quite old, obviously put here instead of in the rubbish. Labourers rarely stayed easy for long. "Now lad, bend over and put your hands on the arms of the chair." And he did. Without being asked to, Ernie parted his legs and stuck out his lovely round teenage bum for the man to feast on. Ernie was looking at the back of the chair, examining the dent left by god knows how many people over the decades - most of them his relatives. He could hear that familiar slapping of flesh on flesh. It was obvious the man was jerking off to the view of Ernie's near naked smooth slim body. He was obviously very excited! He wished he could see him in action. He was about to turn round to admire the view and hopefully hold it himself when the sound of the masturbating man stopped. Immediately he felt the heat of his hairy body behind him just as it had in the milking parlour. Now, instead of the 'Thump Thump Thump' of the milking machines it was the 'Thump Thump Thump' of his heart beating with the adrenaline racing through his blood stream. Most of the blood seemed to have made it to his adolescent cock which was enlarged uncomfortably in his tight undies. He was about to move his hand and let it lose when he felt those two rough farming hands placed firmly on his smooth hips. One went up to his nipples and started to caress them gently. The other hand moved to the front of his underwear and had a really good feel of the boy's lovely cock. Not big by any imagination - he'd had enough of those over the years anyway - but pleasant enough. The briefs were getting damp from the honey juice leaking from the boy's trapped cock. The labourer had no intention of releasing it from its confinement. That wasn't the object of his desire. He wanted the boy's beautiful bum, the smooth pink skin, with each firm cheek filling one hand. Putting both hands on the fourteen year olds slim hips again he casually pulled down the back of Ernie's little white bikini briefs and brought them to just below his cheeks with the elastic pushing the mounds up and out making them look bigger and rounder than they were. Perfection! He played with them, felt them. Squeezed them. Pulled them apart and pushed them together. He had learned that were he to press on the sciatic nerve running down the centre of the boy's lovely bottom he would get a strong erotic response. And sure enough he did. As he pressed on the nerve firmly the boy's balls contracted with pleasure. His cock couldn't get any harder and the pouch of his little undies was getting wetter and wetter. Ernie started gently pressing the floor with his bare feet. The young teen was like a cat on heat pushing out his little mounds of pleasure to the man's hands - wanting, inviting him to press harder and harder on that spot running the length of his rosy cheeks. When it was becoming too much for him and he felt he was going to explode in his undies - the massaging stopped. The labourer had spent about 35 years milking cows, massaging their udders so he had a lot of erotic experience to transfer to the boy beneath his hands now. No cow had ever complained anyway! "Stand up" he said. The boy responded in a dreamlike trance, disappointed the pleasure had stopped so suddenly. "Now" he said quietly to the back of the teenager's head. "I want you to climb onto the chair and spread your legs wide putting a knee on each arm of the chair. Then lean over the back of the chair and look out the window like a good lad." The man suddenly sounded like a doctor preparing to examine. He certainly knew what he wanted anyway. Ernie did as he was told. He made an attempt to take off his briefs which he thought would stop him opening his legs wide but the man stopped him just as he got his thumbs into the elastic band. "They're the wrapper on the sweet boy. Don't take them off!" He climbed onto the chair, leaning over the back as ordered and looking out the window at the cows looking back at him. He made himself comfortable and found that this position only made him feel hornier. He pushed his bum out and assumed that the man was going to continue squeezing his beautiful mounds of boy flesh. But he didn't. He felt a large hand come round the side of his face and two fingers enter his mouth and deposit a piece of hard toffee there. A toffee? How did he know Ernie liked toffees? He closed his mouth gratefully and allowed the sweet tasting treat get soft slowly. The man had bought it earlier from the local shop not far from the farm. McGoverns shop and bar. The middle-aged woman was a bit surly knowing full well labourers had little to spend. She gave him the bits and pieces of the toffee she had broken with a hammer from a large block earlier on but she charged full price. He didn't linger as she stood holding the hammer a bit too long after she had finished breaking the block of toffee. He had to take it as he had seen the boy chew toffee from this shop quite often and he was desperate to get started. And then the boy felt the hands back where they would do the most good. One hand ran over the front of his undies covering his rock hard teenage cock. It was really soaking now. Soaking! But the man didn't release the boy's little pleasure tool. Maybe later - when he'd take off the bikini briefs for his own pleasure. The man's other hand returned to the boy's bottom and continued feeling the soft flesh. Then, with thumb and finger, he moved gently between his cheeks stopping at the boy's pink smooth opening. There was a twitch and the rosebud started to pull at his finger but then he moved down his perineum and over the smooth skin of the boy's ball sack. This was his favourite spot. He loved being gentle with them. He held those darling little eggs in his hand and lifted them up and down. The boy continued chewing his toffee with his eyes closed. Then the hand was withdrawn. It returned but this time a cold squishy finger was placed over his smooth hole. He twitched it. The gel was making it tickle. He knew what it was too. It was the clear gel he had used on the cows' udders. Then he felt a slight pressure as the finger pushed the gel into the receptive opening. There was little resistance and his finger went in - or was rather sucked in - a lot faster than the man had anticipated. It was only the man's knuckle that stopped his finger getting completely absorbed by his sphincter! Intriguing. With difficulty he pulled his finger out and, dipping it in the tub of gel, he pushed back in again but this time with two fingers. There was little difference. Ernie adjusted his position on the arms of the chair, laid his head on the back and settled in for a morning of pleasure denied him up to now. He liked this. He wanted more. He was buzzing inside. Someone had released wild horses inside him and they were galloping up that little teen's ass to somewhere inside him that was electric! The labourer kept going in and out - gently at first but speeding up and out and round. The gel was making things so much easier and the boy's enthusiasm was infectious. He was moving that cute little ass from side to side in tandem with the man's thrusting in and out. After half an hour of stretching and pushing in the gel he whispered: "Comfortable?" "Very" came the barely audible response from the boy. "Well I'll wake you up a bit so "and he brought down the sticky hand sharply on the boy's beautiful round bottom. Then again. And again. Five times on each cheek. Ernie didn't make too much of a fuss and barely acknowledged the spanking. The young adolescent began pushing his bum out and made attempts to follow the labourer's fingers as they caressed the hot little ass. He wanted the finger in again! The labourer was delighted the boy wanted more. He hadn't anticipated moving so fast but he'd obviously let something lose from the boy's underworld and it wanted satisfying and wasn't going to stop any time soon. He was making no attempt to stop the man or climb down from the chair. With those two big hands like shovels he decided he'd give the boy the ultimate experience. Grabbing the front of the boy's briefs with one hand and gripping under the boy's two cheeks with the other he lifted him up into the air and got him to stand in front of the chair but still looking out the window. He put his hand firmly on his back and got him to lean over. Ernie instinctively knew what was expected of him and complied eagerly. He placed his hands on the chair, legs apart as much as he could, exposing the inviting gap between his two cheeks as much as he could. He was waiting. It was the man's move now. After what seemed like forever he could feel the heat of the man pressing near his bottom. Then the tickle of the hair on his bum as the man's substantial cock was placed between his legs. He was so hard that it bounced up and hit Ernie's balls causing him to yelp a little. The man put his hand on the cheeks and prised them apart. At the same time he moved back a little and allowed his cock to travel down the boy's balls, up his perineum and slowly in between his arse cheeks. He was going to see if the large head on his piece of meat which the boy had been lusting after for so long would find its way home. It was wet with pre cum and slid up and down between the cheeks easily. Ernie helped by following it and moving his arse to engage it. He was determined not to let this moment pass. After some gentle foreplay almost in sync Ernie pushed back just as the heavy muscular man pushed forward and the head entered the boy's entrance with as little resistance one could imagine. He couldn't believe that it had been so easy. He had been with seasoned men who had trouble taking it first time and here was a fourteen year old opening up his arse to suck in the head of his thick cock and control it. The labourer could feel that Ernie had clamped down on the hard tube and stopped it entering any further. He was getting used to it. He wanted to get used to the feeling. It was much nicer than he ever thought it would be. He knew there was more to go and he wanted to experience it all at this time. He wanted to try drag it all in using his muscles alone. There was enough gel up his arse to deliver a calf comfortably so it should be able to go in and out without too much trouble. And so Ernie took over and started to relax his ass muscles, allow some more to enter, then clasp them again to stop it in its tracks. He was enjoying the fullness inside him and he had to contain himself and not lose control or the whole thing would get sucked in in one go. He had time and he wanted to make the most of it. The labourer was attentive to the boy's desires. He could take his time. He leaned over the boy and placed his hairy chest in contact with the smooth skin of the young teen's back - and then started to rub it gently. He said nothing. But he needed release soon. He increased the speed of his entry in the young lad's little arse and, meeting no resistance, he increased the speed of his thrusting. The increased activity from the hairy hot man was not lost on Ernie who pushed back to meet the hard piece of flesh he had so long desired. He wanted it in him and he felt so full and electrified with it just where it was. He could sense the man getting hornier and hornier, faster and faster with himself getting fuller and fuller and his cock too hard it hurt in his saturated briefs. But he didn't want him to stop. He was disappointed for without any warning the man roughly grabbed Ernie around the chest and pulled him into himself grunting into his ear. "Oh yes! Oh yes!" he hissed. Ernie could feel the pulsing cock in his arse. It was a strange feeling. He liked it and was disappointed it didn't last long. Five or six times and then stop. Then nothing. Just the heavy breathing of the man in his ear. They stayed like that until the man became too heavy for the boy and he had to push up a little. The man obliged and stood up but with his cock still firmly planted in the boy's little arse. He put his hands on the boy's nipples again and then down to the obscenely wet undies. Should he wank off the boy now? No. They had the rest of the day and the lad didn't seem desperate to jerk off at all. Didn't seem anxious that he should even remove his wide cock. Maybe they could start again? And he did. And so the weeks progressed and passed very slowly up in the labourer's room above the stable. Every morning after milking Ernie was fucked twice by a very horny experienced man. As the time moved on though he found that the fucking was getting just that bit repetitive. He wanted to reduce it to just the one orgasm and a long spanking of the boy. The problem was that after the spanking the lad didn't want to leave and just bent over the chair again for more cock. He was wearing the man out. He usually came once a day. The excitement of sex on tap let him manage twice and an occasional blow job in the evening if he could manage. The boy could anyway. But he was getting a bit exhausted by it all - the constant presence of the boy in the room. How could he send him out? His family owned the farm and what if he turned on him and told his father or brothers? By mid-July it dawned on the man that the tables had turned and he was the cow being milked - oftentimes without his consent or interest. He knew something had to be done when he found himself reading the racing pages of a newspaper while fucking the young teen and hurling abuse at him. He found delivering the spanking easier each time because he meant it more and more. He needed an exit. He needed the boy to find his sex somewhere else and give him a rest. He must be getting old he thought to himself one afternoon when Ernie had returned to the room. He dreaded the sight of him now. He let him suck his cock knowing that at least he wouldn't have to cum again and the boy got some pleasure. And then the penny dropped. Why did he have to carry the burden of supplying cum every morning and evening when there was a place - if he played his cards right - that could supply more than enough thick man cream to keep the little slut happy and give him a break. Even once a week.... The Ballykillferrit Cinematograph Emporium The Cinematograph Emporium was the official title of the one dingy cinema which graced the town of Ballykillferrit. It had seen much better days. It had seen Breda in a pair of dancing shoes with a brick in her handbag in case any of the young men got frisky on a Friday at the Ballroom of Romance night. That was before it was bought and transformed - on a budget mind you - into a cinema for about 300 souls with no television or transport to anywhere decent. By the time blockbusters reached the cinema the hairstyles had gone out of fashion and some of the stars too. Nobody minded much though. Apart from the ubiquitous gangs of kids who lived in it at weekends the only adults who used it were courting couples and the girls 'who might'. They were the ones who didn't have their bra straps welded shut - a rare find in a rural town at the time. Before its transformation Breda and Miss Fitt had spent many a night waltzing round the floor in their youth carefully supervised by Breda's younger brother Donal McGovern. And it was to this man that the town and its courting couples turned when looking for someone to blame for hasty marriages and a stuffed orphanage. He was still alive when Ernie was 40 and lusting after Little Paddy McGinty. He was even more alive when a horny fourteen year old Ernie was brought into the welcome embrace of the Emporium on its notorious Tuesday afternoon showings.