Date: Fri, 15 Sep 2017 12:08:34 -0400 From: The Paternal Watcher Subject: Just Being Friendly Chapter 1 The college years were tough for me. I ran out of money about halfway through, but didn't want to go back to living with my parents, so I instead learned a few non-traditional lessons when I got a crappy job and found a roommate who was local to that town. His name was Tom, a high-school dropout who wanted to get his GED, while I wanted to earn enough money for the next semester of tuition, or at least to live independently long enough that my parents' income wouldn't figure into my financial aid. We might have been a mismatched pair, but stranger still was the pair of high-schoolers Tom knew who also shared an apartment together, with no parents in sight. Joe and Barry were both around 14 or 15 years of age, and lived in a third-floor walkup over a bookstore and bar downtown. Maybe it was something in the water, but I later learned that there were a bunch of kids in similar situations. Some had the rent paid by their parents, but others seemed to be supporting themselves. Maybe the rental market was so soft that local landlords would take anybody, or maybe it was such a small town they just did everything with a handshake. I didn't sign any leases in all the time I lived there, so that was probably it. First time I met these two kids was after springing for breakfast at the bagel shop with Tom, since neither of us had bothered to shop for groceries in awhile. "I have to stop over at some friends," he said. "Want to come?" After knocking on the door for nearly a minute, it opened to reveal the one I quickly learned was Joe. His brown hair was wavy and went all the way down his neck, and all he was wearing was a pair of white briefs, giving me plenty of opportunity to scope him as he peered at us through eyes barely open. "What's up, Tom?" Tom pushed his way in, me following behind, and said, "Barry, have that ten I spotted you last week? I need cigarettes." Spying a pack on the large electric-cable spindle that passed for a table, he took one out and lit it. "Barry!" Joe called, looking up. I now saw that the entire apartment was a single room with a bathroom carved out of one corner, a kitchenette in another, and ceilings maybe twelve feet high. There was a loft bed up there, full size or larger, which was where Joe was directing his voice. A hand crept over the edge, and we could hear a muffled, "Shh." Rolling his now-opened eyes with exasperation, Joe climbed two-thirds of the ladder rungs leading to the bed, saying, "C'mon, you said you'd pay him." One foot he left resting on a rung higher than the other, tightening his briefs and giving me the opportunity to study the boy's ass in detail. Beneath and between the halves of his pert derriere was a hint of ball-bulge. More whispered complaints, then Joe descended. There was some rustling above that sounded like Barry was pulling on clothes, which I noted with interest since there was only that one bed in the apartment. He then descended, wearing a pair of sweat shorts. The two were both teen-sized, with Barry standing slightly taller at about five and a half feet to Joe's five-four. Their hair was also a similar shade of light brown, although Barry's was in a closer cut that looked fine right out of bed, while Joe's slightly longer locks were clearly slept upon. As Barry reached for a cigarette I spied a patch of hair under his arm, but there was none covering his flat stomach or pert, brownish-pink nipples. Joe's nipples were smaller and pinker than his roommate's, and unlike Barry's they were also hard. Each had a hint of hair on their lower legs, which had the muscle gained by kids without access to a car. As Barry moved there was a hint of something going on in his shorts, but they were loose and I didn't want to get caught staring. After a couple of minutes, Barry found what he was looking for -- the pants he'd been wearing the day before, where he'd left his wallet -- and we were ready to leave. Tom had the door open, but then said, "You guys meet my roommate yet? Ask him for help with school. He's pretty smart." Then he turned to go, and I followed after, giving a half-wave and muttering, "Hey." "'He's pretty smart?'" I said when we were back on the street. "You're helping me with my GED classes," he said. "Can't take the test for you," I reminded him. I didn't see either Joe or Barry until the next Friday night, when they arrived together with Tom, having clearly been raising hell. They were all a bit too loud, especially because young voices rise to painfully high pitches when they are excited, and it was possible that they'd been drinking. In any case, I knew that my study time was done. "Have a beer with us," Tom said, confirming my suspicions about the drinking. Neither of us was old enough to drink, but that didn't keep beer from the fridge. I really only drink beer to be polite, but Tom likes it just fine. My drug of choice is weed, and since it was time to be social whether I wanted to or not I pulled out my stash and loaded the ever-present bong even as Tom handed me a bottle. Money was tight, but I always set some aside for marijuana because it helped me focus, helped me relax, and made my private time with Rosey Palm a bit more fun, too. It was a nice time. Tom's a looker, but his young friends were more in my wheelhouse. I can be really charming when I want to be, and given the chance I can always make teen boys feel at ease around me. Eventually we got around to complaining about schoolwork. "GED practice tests are friggin' stupid," opined Tom. "Isn't that what you said about high school?" I countered. Joe rolled his eyes. "EVERYTHING about high school is stupid," he said. "How would you know?" said Barry. "You barely go anymore." "Because I've seen the grades you get," his roomie replied. Barry ripped a bong hit, coughed a spell, then said, "It's not my fault that I hate writing essays. It's just so damned boring." "I could definitely help you get through that," I jumped in. "I got a 97 on my English Regents exam," I told them. "The trick is finding topics that are actually interesting." "Like pot?" Barry asked. We all laughed, but then I said, "Seriously, I wrote a paper in eleventh grade on LSD." "For real?" said Barry, and I nodded. He thought for a second then said, "Okay, you really want to help me?" "Definitely. I don't have class Tuesdays and Thursdays if you want to come by then." Tom and his friends hung around for about another hour, but I excused myself after about half that to go to sleep. "We're good for Tuesday?" Barry confirmed. Despite that promise, I forgot about Barry until he knocked at our door. Tom hadn't come home the night before and I was still in my bathrobe because I didn't have any reason not to be. I'd showered and just not bothered getting dressed. I was actually only wearing that much because someone knocked at the door. Barry gave me a look that showed he thought I was odd, then said, "You forget I was coming over?" I laughed. "Ya think? Let me put on some pants. You drink coffee?" He didn't, but I made a pot anyway, for me. Barry laid out his most recent assignment, including worksheets and his attempts at drafting the first and last paragraphs of an essay. "It makes no sense to write the end before I know what the middle looks like," he said. "Think of it like bookends," I told him. "You can lean books up in a row without them, but usually some of them are going to fall down because there's no structure shoring them up. Your teacher wants you to work on these paragraphs because they will give you an idea of what goes between them." He didn't look convinced, but worked with me on it for close to an hour, and in the end his writing was in decent shape. "You deserve a reward," I told him, and I went into my room to grab the box I kept my pot in. Barry smiled. I packed the bowl of the bong and passed it to him, saying, "Greens for the successful student, but no blacktopping." He looked at me quizzically, and I explained: "It's good manners to save some of the greens for the next guy if you can. Hold the lighter to the side." We passed the bong back and forth, then sat back and enjoyed the benefits. Through narrowed eyelids, Barry looked at me. "You should keep a better eye on your stash," he said. "What's that supposed to mean?" I asked. "I like you, Bill. You're cool, which is why I'm telling you this. Tom and some of his friends take weed from you, like all the time." "Oh," I said. "That kind of sucks, then." "Yeah, well, think of it as an opportunity," Barry replied. "Good things can come from stuff that sucks." "There's no way I can find a new roommate or new place to live, if that's what you mean," I said. "I think it just sucks." Barry put his hand on my shoulder. "Look," he said, "Tom's not a bad guy, you just need to be less trusting of people. Except for me," he added. "I've got your back." "Yeah?" I asked. "Why's that?" "Like I said, I like you. You're cool." "Thanks," I said. "I wish I had some way to show my appreciation, but I'm pretty much out of weed and don't have any extra cash." "I'm sure we can figure something out, man. See you Thursday?" "Definitely." It wasn't long before Tom got home, and we were soon making dinner and comparing days and plans. I didn't say anything about him nipping from my stash because I was conflicted about it, but it was in the back of my mind and I watched more carefully. Somehow, though, by the time Thursday came 'round again I had again forgotten Barry was coming over. It was a bit more than awkward, too, because this time I was in the tub when he knocked. As I opened the door, towel wrapped securely around my still-damp waist, I said, "We really need to start meeting somewhere in town." "Why?" said Barry, pushing past me. "Then I'd be waiting there when you forgot, instead of getting smoked up in your bathroom." I wasn't surprised he could smell the weed, but his suggestion definitely surprised me. "I was taking a bath," I explained. "Just let me dry off and we can do that." Barry dismissed me with a hand. "It's not like I've never seen a dick before. And you owe me for forgetting, AGAIN." He dropped his books on the counter, and I followed him into the bathroom, where he sat down on the toilet and appeared to be making himself comfortable. "Go on," he said. "It's all good." Shaking my head in amazement, I removed my towel and slipped back into the tub. It was warmer than I remembered. Barry had located my pipe and was repacking it. He took a hit and handed it to me. "Saved you some greens," he said. Taking a bath with someone watching is a little weird, but the weed helped and we were soon talking as if I wasn't sitting naked in a tub. "Ever tell Tom what I told you?" Barry said at one point. "About your weed, I mean." I shook my head. "Knowledge is power, my friend, but admitting what we know isn't always the best way to use it. I still owe you for that knowledge, and I promise I will find a way to pay you back." Letting out a hit slowly, he said, "You seem to be doing okay so far." He coughed at the end. "You cough, you get off," I said. His fit subsided, Barry said, "Imagine if that were really true, and we busted a nut every time we coughed?" Laughing, I said, "It actually would make a little sense. Lot of people get horny when they get high." Now it was Barry's turn to laugh. "Can I tell you something?" he said as we passed the bowl. I nodded. "When I get my own bag, I always put some to the side for 'me time.'" "And you look guilty for that why?" I asked. "Guys got needs, and it's not like our dicks are gonna suck themselves." "Blowjobs are way better, though," Barry said wistfully. "Friendliest thing someone can do for a guy," I agreed. "What does it take for someone to be that friendly, anyway?" the boy replied. He shifted his legs, perhaps trying to adjust himself without grabbing. "If you did something really nice for someone, something you didn't have to do, maybe that would get your dick sucked," said I. "I guess I'm just not that nice a guy," Barry laughed. "I don't know," I said. "You were pretty nice telling me about my weed being stolen." Sitting in the tub, getting high with this incredibly cute teen boy, talking about how much he wanted a blowjob, I still didn't realize where my mind was going until the words came out of my mouth. Contrary to the myth that guys are always hard when horny, I was still limp when I said it, but now that I was actively thinking about it that was going to change fast. He laughed again, but cut it short. We were silent for what felt like a long time, and then Barry offered me the weed. "You want to hit this?" he ventured. My mouth dry, I said, "No. Not that." "Me either," he replied. Placing it on the sink, he stood up and stepped close to the tub. I could plainly see his erection, pushing out the fabric along his leg. My heart beating, I swallowed. Mouth was still dry. Taking a deep breath, I reached up and grabbed him through his pants. Barry let out an explosive breath, and pushed slightly into my grasp. Taking his meaning, I refocused on unzipping and unbuttoning. What kind of underwear he wore that day I could not say, because it all came down together. Hungrily I looked at the young cock now before me, my own aching under the cooling water of the tub. "You want me to hit this?" I asked, just to be sure this wasn't all in my head, even now. "Go for it." This was one of those moments that you want to last forever, that first touch of beautiful teen dick to lips and tongue, the unique sensation of completion as it slides into and fills the mouth. This was a moment that should be savored, because one cannot say if anything quite as glorious will ever happen again. Savor, schmavor: I went down on him balls deep. Maybe I'd regret it later, but I wanted that cock, and I wanted all of it, right then. It was the right call for a boy his age, especially one high and horny. He pushed into me as if he was trying to drive his pelvis right through my face. "Oh god," he said, "suck it, yeah, omigod so good . . . " My knees slipped in the tub, causing me to lose my mouth's grip on his succulent tool. "Don't stop," he begged, "I'm almost there." Redoubling my efforts, I raked my teeth over the ridge of his frenulum as I dove back onto his cock. That's a risky move, and one I would never recommend to a someone who hasn't sucked a lot of dick, because it's very easy to go too hard and ruin the mood. I didn't, and Barry gasped. I flicked and swirled my tongue over his head, and then put it back in my throat where he clearly wanted it. As I tightened around his shaft, he pulled back and shoved in, harder than before, and then did it again before releasing his load along with a satisfied groan. Barry pushed the last few drops out by clenching, then pulled out slowly. He looked a little embarrassed as he zipped up. "Thanks, man," he said. "Don't worry about it," I said. "Just being friendly, like I said. But please don't tell anyone, okay?" "You either?" he said hopefully. "No problem." I put out my fist and got a bump in return. "I should probably let you finish your bath," he said. "Sure, but I'm still down with the tutoring." He smiled. "Okay, but don't forget next time. Later, man." My dick was limp from the cool water as I rose from the tub and pulled the plug. I'd jerk off thinking about this, but not right now. After toweling off I walked through the kitchen to get dressed, and realized he'd left his text and notebook on the counter. No wonder why, I thought to myself. I wasn't sure when he'd need it again, and decided it was better to drop them off on my way to work. --------------------------------------------------------------- If you enjoyed the preceding work of fiction, please consider donating to Nifty. Every dollar goes a long way. I am delighted to be listed as a prolific net author; you can find a current list of my Nifty contributions by visiting https://www.nifty.org/nifty/authors.html#paternalwatcher. Here's a list which is current when this was published: - Adult-youth - Are you? http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/are-you - Appreciating the arts http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/appreciating-the-arts - Birthday boy http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/birthday-boy - Can I help with that? http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/can-i-help-with-that - Coffee shop boys http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/coffee-shop-boys - Eclipse http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/eclipse - Hot summer http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/hot-summer - Hungry for love http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/hungry-for-love/ - Overalls http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/overalls - Pillow fight http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/pillow-fight - Tutu http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/tutu - War boys http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/war-boys/ - Whatever happens https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/whatever-happens - High school - Suspenders http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/highschool/suspenders - Young friends - Junior High series http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/junior-high-series/ - Summer homework http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/summer-homework