Date: Fri, 01 Jan 2010 06:31:25 +0100 From: auroratopper@gmx.us Subject: Juan and Matt, Part 6 The elevator dropped Father and me off on the ninth floor. One floor for each of young Juan's years, I thought and smiled. We trudged quietly down the hall as the pleasant scent of several dinners being cooked by Latino families waffled out from under each door. I wondered what sexy little outfit Juan would wear tonight for his guests. I hoped he would show me his bedroom. His little chaotic and small world, his laundry basket with pairs and pairs of tight briefs slighty spotted with dried boyjuice. The movie and TV posters. The small bed and soft cotton blankets that kept his naked prepubescent body warm after Javier tucked him in. Father Jose ended my trance by a knock. Javier opened the door to their apartment and smiled big. He was wearing a white tank top, some called it a wifebeater, and a suit jacket. It worked on him, strangely. I tried to focus on his eyes as he extended his hand to me. He was wearing a pleated pair of black dress pants and the very stretched fabric pouch was obviously full of his grand manhood. It was so tight I swear I saw the outline of his foreskin behind the fabric. "Javier, this is Matt," Jose introduced. He replied with "Some grip you got there, Matt. Father said you were a bit of a lightweight, but ..." Jose got my strongest disapproving glare. It worked and he turned bright red. He, like me, returned his attention to Juan's papi. He laughed sarcastically and smacked my shoulder. "Um, thanks, I think." I spoke up. Thanks for having us over to your house for dinner and drinks. I'm looking forward to hearing more about your experience so far as the boys' Physical Education teacher." He motioned us inside their modest home. It was smaller than it seemed. Juan appeared from a narrow hallway wearing a miniature version of his father's tank top and super low daisy duke type shorts. Like his father, it just worked. He hugged Father Jose at crotch level and then offered me a refresher course on what bliss it was to have nine year old Juan clasped onto your legs. "Can I get you guys a drink?" Javier offered. "Bien, dos cervezas?" Jose said. I reached down to fondle the top of Juan's little head. His hair was so short and soft. I ran my palm around his buzzcut. I brushed the tips of his cute and small earlobes. Baby smooth. I pinched the muscles that surrounded his shoulders just slightly. "Hay Matt," Juan yelped. "Papi says you gonna take his place as PE Teacher! Can we still play Capture The Fag??" "Juanito! Go help your mother in the kitchen. I need to talk to these men for a minute," Javier commanded his son out of the room. Juan detached from my leg once again and darted off to the kitchen, his little butt cheeks peeking out of his low-cut shorts was a slo-mo video replaying in my mind and pants. My thick dick stiffened a bit. "Thanks again hermanos. Let's chat." He handed us our Modelos and we grabbed seats at the dinner table. Some chips and salsa and guacamole were out. A low hanging candlelabra lit the dinner table. Father Jose began. "While the church fights to keep you in the country, Javier, I need you to explain to Matt what's required to keep these boys satisfied and well exercised. You don't have to get too detailed right now for obvious reasons, but just tell Matt what your day is typically like." I gulped more than a mouthful of both my beer and the raw, honest masculinity that was Javier Acevedo. Maybe a few years older than me. Definitely a stunner. He was a thicker version of his teenaged self now but no less hot, I bet. His smooth pecs and dark brown nipples tried to escape his tank top. His olive skin highlighted his dark, native features. I pictured what he looked like fresh out of the shower or pounding his young wife or watching his slick verga popping in and out of his young son's mouth as his face grimaced in ecstasy of another fresh load of protein sprayed all over his eldest son Juan. He began to debrief me. "It's important to mix it up, Matt. Last thing you want the boys to be is bored. That means keeping it fresh. New games, new variations of old classics. All this while making sure you're not working their bodies too hard, either." He paused and squeezed a lime into the beer. "I created an almost spa-like experience for the chicos. Work the body to exhaustion, then pamper it. We have an Olympic pool, a sauna and steam room, hot tub and even a waterslide." Wait, this was a Catholic boys' elementary school, right? Was the tuition that high? Javier continued. "I have a group of the older, less athletic boys from the middle school take the role of physical trainer to the younger boys. It builds camraderie and confidence in both groups of young men." I should have brought a notepad. He concluded. "Have a few of the smaller members work as your personal assistants. These boys are usually Father Gomez' altar boys and their alternates." Ummm, Juan was in line to be my assistant at the school? "Si, Matt. That means Juan." The very handsome Mexican man smirked at me. "Listen. I know you would be more than happy to take my boy Juan under your wings. Actually," he paused. "You probably would love to have him under your blankets. And that's OK. Tila and I were blessed with a beautiful boy who was always ready to take care of his Papi and Mami." He paused and looked at me sternly and patiently. "Comprende?" I nodded, locked into his gaze. Father Gomez broke the awkward silence. "He will be taken care of, Javier. Both Matt and I will make sure he and Tila have everything they need." Clearing my throat, I offered a weak "Yes, Javier, we understand." Tila and Juan entered the room smiling. "Dinner is ready." She was carrying a large steaming pot of pozole and Juan followed her with a few stacks of tortilla warmers. He looked so cute helping his mother with dinner. The pair dished out the food and refilled drinks and we all sat down to say grace. "On this quiet night," Father Gomez began, lowering his head and reaching both hands out to Tila on his left and Juan on his right. I reached out for Juan and Javier. Javier held his wife's and my hand. He prayed in Spanish; I made out something about faith and distance and love and God and angel wings. Tila fidgeted and teared up. The dedication was too emotional for her. "Aye, Padre." Jose spoke up. "We will take care of you and Juan, child. Don't you worry about a thing." "Mami, it's gonna be OK. Papi said we have to be strong and that he will hurry up and come back from Mexico as soon as he can." Javier began speaking to the group in Spanish. I excused myself from the table so they could have a private moment. I made my way down the narrow hallway to the kitchen and into a small bathroom with no door. I didn't bother to turn on a light as the room was candlelit. I unbuckled my belt and unzipped. My fat cock plopped out and unleashed a fierce torrent of urine into the blue toilet water. The last drops were being released when I felt a pinch on my shoulder. Javier was right behind me. He put his chin on my shoulder and hugged me from behind. Like Juan, it was a really tight grip. "Just stay still for a minute, Matt." I froze. He was definitely stronger than me. He pulled my already loose pants down in a single motion. Javier grabbed my beer bottle from the sink. He spit into his free palm and smeared it over the bottle's opening. My cock jumped to a fierce erection. He looked at it for a few seconds and it bounced in sync with my racing heartbeat. "This is how I want you to pop my boy's cherry," he paused and shoved the bottle's top in between my ass cheeks. He stopped and started to twist it up inside me. Strangely it felt really good. Then he stopped and pulled it out. He put the bottle back on the sink. "Listen, you and me gotta work together here. If you help me get back to the States, I will let you be with Juan as much as you want." "Javier, I'm not sure what you mean..." I unconvincingly lied. This time I didn't get the bottle. UMPH. Without warning, he shoved his slick prick up inside my tight hairy pink hole. I didn't get to see it before it was up my ass! "Shhhhhh shhh. Just stay still, Matt." He pulled and pushed his stiff macho cock through me. His hefty, finely hairy brown ballsac was full of Mexican boy batter and slapping hypnotically against my taint. It was the only noise you could hear in the room. The voices of Father Jose & Tila were faint, but steady in the distance. Javier's middle finger was planted firmly in my mouth. His free arm snugly wrapped around me as his cobra wiggled inside my lower gut. He gasped surprisingly loud. There it was. I felt it. It was reallllly hot. His finger popped out of my mouth and he deflated inside as quick as he came and his babymaker dropped out of me. Zip. Zip. He freed me, turned, said nothing, and walked out of the room.