Date: Thu, 11 Jul 2019 23:47:08 -0500 From: gwen uni Subject: Life Repays In Kind by Cutter09 gay adult/youth Please remember to donate to Nifty. The thousands of stories availble for your reading pleasure is provided by Nifty, so give a little and get a lot. Cutter09 http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html You can find more of my stories listed on the prolific authors page under Cutter09 Life Repays In Kind I arrived at the address I had been given, thinking there must be a mistake. I was to meet Mr. Hamilton at his home, and this was a twenty story office building. "May I help you?" the security guard at the reception desk asked. "I think there's been a mistake. I'm supposed to meet a Mr. Hamilton at his home. So obviou..." "And your name is?" "Brent. Brent Latham." "Yes. Mr. Hamilton is expecting you. Take the first elevator on the right to the seventeenth floor." Okay, so it wasn't the wrong address. Just meeting in an office instead. I took the elevator as instructed, and the doors opened to reveal another reception desk. Behind the cute girl at the desk was a sign, written in big bold letters, Hamilton Enterprises Inc. "I'm here to see Mr. Hamilton," I told the girl. "Have a seat Mr. Latham. Mr. Hamilton will be with you in a moment." Five minutes later, she directs me down a hall, where two huge frosted glass doors swing open as I approach. "Brent. Glad you could make it. Have a seat." The man I assumed was Hamilton, indicated to a chair in front of his desk. He was a very distinguished looking man of about fifty. "Mr. Hamilton. I..." "Please. Call me Ross." "Uh... Okay. Ross, I'm not sure why I'm here. Mrs. Winters said I should talk to you about a tutoring job. "Yes. Phoebe and my late wife were sorority sisters. She says you did wonders for her twins." "Oh... well, yes. I worked with them for a couple of years. So this is a tutoring job?" I asked. "Of sorts. I have a son that I need your help with." "What subjects are giving him the most trouble?" "Life," he answered cryptically. "I don't follow you." "My wife died when Dillon was five. She had cared for him until then. He's a special needs child. I've taken him to every specialist in the world. In the last two years, he's been through eight nannies and five tutors, none of which did him any good. And that was with them working together, not individually." "I'm sorry, but I don't know how I can help you. I'm just trying to work my way through school. I'm not a..." "Let me see here," he said picking up a folder from his desk. "Orphaned at eight, raised in foster care. Volunteered at a summer camp for handicapped kids at fifteen. They liked you so much they hired you for the next two years. Left foster care at eighteen. Live in a garage apartment on West Avenue. Worked your way through school, recently received your B.A. going for a Masters in education. Have I left anything out? "Just my shoe size and blood type." "Let's see. Eleven and a half in tennis shoes, twelve in loafers. Blood type is–" "I get the picture. You've checked me out. It's a bit weird, but I understand your concerns when it comes to your child." "Exactly. I love my son, and I don't want him institutionalized. But if I can't get him the help he needs, I'm afraid I have no other choice." "I'm just not sure I'm the help he needs," I admitted. "And I believe you are exactly what he needs. I'll pay you ten grand a month and all your expenses. I'm afraid It requires you to live in. But you will have Sundays off. You'll have free reign to do as you think best. "Did you say ten grand a month, plus expenses.? That's... that's–" "Not enough? Okay fifteen, but no Sundays off." I was speechless. "I... uh... Okay. I'll meet him and then maybe..." "Follow me." Ross pushed a button on a panel on his desk. A wall moved to reveal a private elevator. Inside he inserted a silver keycard, and we started moving up. "The top two floors are my residence," he said as the doors opened. I was stunned at the modern yet elegant apartment. Floor to ceiling windows lit the beautiful interior. "Dillon's room is right this way. Although sometimes it feels more like a lair than a room." Ross admitted. What's up with this kid that even his father talks about him this way. He led me to a hallway. Double doors opened into a separate area of the house. "This is his study, over here the game room, here is a small kitchen for snacks. This door is to your room." Ross opened a door into a well appointed suite with bedroom, sitting area, and bath. French doors led to a balcony. It was twice as big as my whole apartment. Back in the hall, Ross said, "This is Dillon's room." He tapped lightly on the door, but received no response. He opened the door to a room just as beautiful as the rest of the place. A large tv blared from the wall in front a sofa. On the sofa sat a boy of about fourteen. He was playing one of those hand held gaming devices. He didn't bother to look up acknowledging our presence. "Dillon, this is Brent. He's going to be your new tutor," Ross said. The boy rolled his eyes but otherwise, unmoving. "I'll leave you two to get acquainted." Ross said exiting rather quickly. Dillon wore basketball shorts and matching jersey. His sandy blond hair was somewhat curly and unruly looking, probably specifically designed for that unkempt look. Sparkling hazel eyes set off his chiseled features, which bore a light dusting of freckles. After five solid minutes of silence he finally said "So, you're to be my latest victim," without looking up from his device. "I could say the same, I'm afraid." "I doubt you could match my running tally." "To what do you attribute your success rate?" I asked continuing the banter. "No balls," he answered. "So they were afraid of you." "Probably that too, but I meant they literally had no balls. They were all female." He chuckled at his own joke. "Sometimes that can be a drawback." "You're telling me. I can't imagine not having my balls," Dillon said pushing the envelope a little further. I spent an hour with him, trying to get feedback, but received very little. I found Ross in the big room we entered through. He was staring out the window with a drink in his hand. "You say he is a special needs child. What makes you say that?" "He was always a quiet child, even before his mother died. Afterward, he became more withdrawn. I took him to doctors, they all had different opinions. One said he was bi polar. Another said borderline personality disorder. Yet another said paranoid schizophrenia. Last year one said he is just plain mean. The last two years has gotten progressively worse. People running from here in tears. Hell sometimes even I'm afraid of him. He's smart. He can see through people, find their weaknesses and exploit it, then reduce them to a quivering heap with verbal insults. All without breaking a sweat, or the slightest remorse." "Why do you want me for this job?" I asked. "You have a reputation of being like the 'child whisperer'. You get results. And people like you." I wasn't aware of this. I mean I had helped a few kids over the years, but I didn't really think that much of it. "Brent, I know this is unusual, but I'm really at the end of my rope here. Please. You have to help me." He really did sound desperate. I thought about it for a moment. "I have classes starting in three months. I will try it for a week, if I think I can help him, I will stay for the three months. At the end of three months, if there is no improvement, I'm afraid I will have to move on." Three months of working for Ross will cover my living and school expenses for the next two years probably. If I pick up some other jobs along the way, I can finish school sooner than I had planed. "That's more than fair. Thanks, Brent." "When should I start?" I asked. "You already have." He handed me a leather binder. "Inside you will find a cardkey like mine, a credit card, and lists of names and services that you might need. You'll have complete access to all vehicles parked in the first sublevel garage, drivers are listed in there. If there is something you need that is not listed, just call Mary. You'll find her in the contact list of the cell phone in there, along with everyone else. In the back is a brief history, and comments by your predecessors " I went back to the lair, stopping at my room to drop off the folder, before entering Dillon's room. I was trying to think of a way to open a dialog between us, he was ignoring me completely. "So, you like basketball? I don't recognize the silver and black jersey. Which team is that?" I asked sitting on the other end of the sofa. "San Antonio Spurs. Best team in the NBA." "Really? San Antonio? Hard to believe," I countered. He gave me a really mean look then said, "Nineteen straight years in the playoffs, five championships. This year will be twenty straight years. No other team, in any sport, can match that record. Probably none ever will for a very long time." "That is impressive. I had no idea." He glared at me again, then turned and put his feet up on the sofa, and hid behind his game. That didn't go as planned. I had to come up with something else. I looked over at him to see if there was some other subject I might bring up. Jesus. The legs of his shorts had drooped down, and with his knees up, I had a clear view of his nuts. I imagined his dick was lying to the other side, where the shorts blocked the view. But his nuts looked as impressive as his favorite team. Though hairless, they looked large enough to be productive, light in color, I could even make out a the veins running through them. "Did you sit like that around your female tutors? It might explain why they ran away screaming." He glanced down at his lap, noticing the gappage, and smiled. "Yeah I did, but I don't think they minded looking. Probably ran because I wouldn't let them touch it." He went back to playing his game, not adjusting his position at all. After a solid thirty minutes of silence, in which I had trouble not looking at his displayed crotch, Dillon finally spoke. "So, what's your story?" "What do you mean?" I asked. "Let me guess. Hmm, awful clothes, in need of a haircut, so, you're broke. Slightly crooked teeth, so, poor dental care. If you were Mexican I would guess your parents were illegal farm workers. But you're white, so I'm guessing just poor white trailer trash." Wow. He is mean. But I couldn't show weakness. Even in the wild, predators cull the weak from the herd and eat them. I chuckled, "No sorry, never lived in a trailer. My turn. Let's see. Rich kid, no drive or ambition. Heartless, cruel, and takes no prisoners. So, I'm guessing... sociopath." Dillon gave me another menacing glare, threw his game down, and stormed into his bathroom, slamming the door behind him. That probably could've gone better. Ten minutes pass before he returns. This time he sat with only one foot on the sofa. I have a clear view of his tackle. His dick looked a little red and puffy. I can only imagine what a kid his age did in the bathroom for ten minutes. Probably exactly what I would have done. "Did my father hire you to insult me?" he asked sounding genuinely hurt. "No, but he didn't hire me to be insulted either. Sometimes life repays in kind. You put bad shit out there, and bad shit comes back." "Oh, now I see. You're a philosopher. That explains the lack of interest in worldly things like decent clothes." "And a brain tumor would explain your self destructive behavior." "I don't have a brain tumor," Dillon all but yelled at me. "That's a shame. At least then I could accept your attitude. Now look. I can sit here and trade barbs with you all day. I can be just a cruel as you, and it won't bother me one bit. Or we can be civil with one another, and neither of us will get our feelings hurt." "What makes you think you could hurt my feelings?" "Sorry, I forgot. Sociopaths have no feelings." Again I got the glare. "Truce?" I offered. Dillon merely nodded slightly, not wanting to show a willingness to concede. I decided to start fresh. "Dillon, my name is Brent. I'm your new best friend." "Best friend? I thought you were supposed to be my tutor." "A rose by any name, smells just as sweet." "Now you're just getting weird," he chuckled. "No more weird than you, sitting there with your junk on display." He laughed a little. "It really did drive the others crazy. But they never had the guts to say anything like you did." "Maybe it's like you said. They didn't have any. I have a set of my own." "Pretty big ones too, to be brave enough to talk to me that way. My father would fire you if he knew." "I think not. Your father gave me free reign to do as I see fit. I think you've pushed him to his limits." Sadness actually fell over his face. I noticed a tear in the corner of his eye. Aha! A chink in his armor. "How about some lunch before we start the next round?" I suggested. Dillon picked up the phone, and punched button. "We'll be having lunch in the dining room," he said to whoever answered. "Do you have any hobbies other than basketball?" I asked over lunch. "Not really. I like to swim, and my grandfather used to take me fishing. I like being outdoors." "Where's the nearest swimming pool?" "I'll show you after lunch." Dillon led me through french doors, that matched the ones in my room, out onto the balcony. It was larger than I expected, and seemed to circle the building. To the right at the end of the building was a pool. "I can't believe there's a pool nineteen stories high," I remarked. "Actually there's two. Father has one just like it at his end of the house. Let's swim," he said taking off his Spurs jersey. "I would love to, but I didn't bring a suit. I'll get my stuff tomorrow and..." "Why? I never wear one. Look around, no one can see up here." He was right. Even the closest buildings were half as tall as this one. "But... I... uh." "What's the problem? You've already seen my junk as you called it." "Yes, but you haven't seen mine." "You're right, and fairness demands I do. Besides, it's no fun to swim alone. None of the others would swim with me." He whisked off his basketball shorts, and stood daring me to do the same. I could understand that the others wouldn't want to, being female and all. Plus what he displayed could easily entice someone to behave improperly. That could cost them the job if he hadn't already scared the hell out of them. I needed him to know I wasn't like the others, and I also needed to gain his trust. I started removing my clothes. It seemed to please him that I would not be intimidated by him. I stood naked in front of him, both of us looking at the other's equipment. It's only natural when faced with a nude person to look, no matter what gender they are. "Now that the awkward part is over, shall we swim?" I asked breaking the silence. After swimming and splashing about some, we settled on the steps of the pool. "Why did you take this job?" Dillon asked. "I haven't yet. I only signed on for a week trial." "So, if I told my dad I didn't want you here, he'd fire you? I guess you better be nice to me then," he laughed. "You've got it wrong. I'm not the one on a trial basis. You are. If I don't like you, I'm out of here, and you're on you own." We sat in silence again. I was watching his dick float to and fro under the surface. He didn't have much pubic hair, but his cock was sizable for his age. I had of course seen naked boys in gym showers in high school, and some in foster care, but I hadn't sat beside a naked boy, watching his cock float about. "You're pretty big," Dillon said. "What?" I said coming out of a trance. "You have a pretty big dick," he repeated. "I guess." "I bet the girls really like it," Dillon continued. "I've had no complaints." I said truthfully. I didn't tell him it's because I've had no experience. I couldn't let him have that to use against me. His father had warned that he would take advantage of any weakness. Being a virgin at twenty five was definitely a weakness. He seemed disappointed somehow, and dove into the pool. What was that all about? Dillon swam to the far end and back,then climbed out of the pool. "What's up?" I asked. I had thought we were making progress, then suddenly, Jekyll turns into Hyde. "You said life repays in kind. Bull shit." Okay. I was lost. Let's back track. Sitting in pool, check, looking at dicks, check, he said I had a big one, check. Oh wait. That was a compliment, and I didn't return it. Damn. I have to watch myself with this kid. Grabbing a couple of towels from a rack by the door, I followed him inside. I handed him a towel. "You're dripping all over the floor." He rolled his eyes in disgust, but took the towel. I dried my hair then bent to dry my legs. His dick was only a couple of feet to my left. I slowly turned my head and made an exaggerated gasping sound. "OH MY GOD! Look at the size of that thing. Jesus, it must be the biggest one in three counties. And those balls. Holy shit. I ain't never seen balls like that." Dillon started laughing, and hit me with his towel. "Stop it." "No. Seriously, your nickname should be horse, cause you're hung like one," I continued. "Now you're just making fun of me," he said. But he was eating it up, smiling the whole time. "I'm sorry. You just caught me off guard with the complement. And I'm certainly not used to complementing guy's dicks." "Why not?" "In most social circles you just don't go up to a guy and say 'Hey nice dick, how big does that thing get?' you know," I said wrapping my towel around me. I sat down and Dillon sat beside me. "So how big does it get?" he asked me. I couldn't believe this kid. I didn't answer for a minute. Then said, "Eight and a half inches [22 cm]." "Damn. And you say I should be called horse," he laughed. Again there was silence. I looked at him, and didn't need to ask. "Six and a half [17 cm]," he volunteered. "Nice. Very nice," I complimented. Dillon beamed. "Tell me about your grandfather. You said he took you fishing and you liked it?" "Yeah then he died too. We used to go up to the lake house. Dad doesn't like it up there, so he doesn't take me." "How long has it been?" "Four years." I got up and went to get my clothes from outside. Dillon followed me. "You're leaving?" he asked as I pulled up my pants. I was glad to hear a bit of concern in his voice. "I have to go back to my place to get some clothes if I'm going to stay here a week." He smiled. I should be back in about an hour. Don't run anyone off while I'm gone." I got off the elevator at Ross's office. He looked up from his desk, then hung his head. "I had hoped you could at least last a day. What did he do?" "He said he used to go fishing with his grandfather." "Yes. Wait. Are you saying he talked to you?" "Yes. I was wondering if you still have the lakehouse. Maybe I could take him there for a couple of days." "Uh... Yeah... So he talked to you? Usually he just screams obscenities at new people for a couple of days. Then he gets really mean." "Well he did try to be a bit worrisome, but I think we got passed it. About that lakehouse?" "Yeah. Uh here's the keys," he said reaching into his desk drawer. "I have to run back to my place to get a few things. I should be back soon." "Your card key will get you onto lower level one. Take the Mercedes, unless you'd rather have the Jag." I picked up some things from home and looked at my piece of shit car that wouldn't start this morning. I had taken a cab to the meeting, and now I'm driving a Mercedes. Life is strange. "Why are you still naked?" I asked Dillon when I entered his room. "I thought we might go swimming again." "How about after dinner?" We ate alone, Ross wasn't there. "I wonder where your father is." "He probably had a date. He has a private elevator in his suite, so I never know when he comes or goes," he said dejectedly. "Does he ever have dinner with you?" "He used to a few years ago. I think I remind him of Mom." "You were pretty close to your mom, weren't you?" "Yeah. Well, I mean Dad was working all the time so usually it was just Mom and me." We went back to the pool after dinner. He immediately stripped off his clothes, and stood waiting for me to do the same. "I picked up my swimsuit while I was at home," I told him. "My pool, my rules. No swimsuits allowed." I stripped and we entered the water. We sat side by side, our hips touching, in water up to our ribs. "Rumor has it, that you are cold and cruel and downright mean. As your latest victim, I demand to know what I'm in for." Dillon laughed. "I think you're safe for now, I'll give you fair warning if I'm about to blow my top." "Good to know. So why do you have this reputation? You seem like a decent soul to me." "It's a well deserved rep, I admit. But you seem different somehow. To them it was a job. You actually seem interested in me." "Well, you are interesting, that's for sure." I said purposely glancing at his cock just below the surface. He smiled. And splashed me. "Oh you little devil." I growled and started to chase him around to pool. He splashed and dodged and dove under trying to escape me. I finally caught him around his waist from behind. He couldn't get away, and had difficulty splashing me. I dragged him back to the steps, and sat down. Keeping him in front of me I spread my legs so he could settle down, as I held him around his waist. "You appear to me to be of above average intelligence. Why does everyone think you need a tutor?" "Probably because I don't do the work they lay out for me. I just like messing with them. I know all the stuff, read all the books. I just don't do the work. Especially tests. It's bullshit." "Oh. So you're not a retard then," I kidded. "No. I take after my dad. He's brilliant. Mom used to tell me I'm just as brilliant as my father." "Sounds like you mom was pretty bright too." He smiled at me. We talked a while longer, about nothing. Then I said, "It's getting late, and we have an early date with some fish." "What?" "We're going fishing." *** I stayed awake a little longer to look over some of the notes by my predecessors. I was in a sound sleep when I'm suddenly attacked by a bouncing fourteen year old. "Get up lazy. We have a date waiting for us." I crawled out of the really comfortable bed and stumbled my way to the toilet. I stood waiting for my erection to allow me to pee, when I realized I had just walked around naked and hard in front of Dillon. I finished my business and turned to see him watching me. I could tell from the lack of sunlight coming through the windows that it was just before dawn. "I assume you are ready?" "Been waiting." He was so excited during the drive, I was glad to see him happy. I passed the time by asking some questions about subjects he should have covered in school by his age. There wasn't a single thing he couldn't answer. We stopped at a small store near the lake and bought bait and food for a couple of days. The lake house was more of a lake mansion. The fenced in grounds contained a huge amount of lake frontage. The house itself was impressive and well appointed. I could tell that no one had been there in a while, even the air inside was stale. "The fishing equipment is in the boat house." Dillon said as soon as we unloaded the car. We got set up on the long pier, with chairs and an ice chest full of drinks. Once our lines were cast, I resumed asking about his education. From what I could tell he really had studied, even beyond his grade level. I asked some college level math questions and he knew the answers. I was impressed. His only shortcoming being in literature. He hadn't been given a list of required reading, though he had done some on his own. We caught enough fish for our lunch, and went to the house. "I'm afraid we are on our own as far as cooking is concerned. Dad let the staff go after grandfather died." That wasn't a problem. I'm a bachelor, I have to prepare all my meals. We talked and joked and laughed throughout the cooking and eating. He was positively delightful. "Why does everyone think you're an ogre or something?" I asked. "I guess I am. I mean, I have chased off more than a few people." "Why? I understand you were a quiet child that turned into a monster, especially the last two years." "I don't know," he shrugged. After we cleared the dishes, I said, "I smell like fish, I'm going to shower." "You're right. You do smell fishy." "You little shit. You're not fresh as a daisy yourself." We went to our rooms which had their own baths. I was just stepping out when Dillon appeared in the doorway. "I think I have a problem," he said. He was naked, except for a pair of shorts he was holding at his thighs. It was obvious there was no way those shorts were going any higher on his body. He looked so ridiculous I burst out laughing. "I have a closet full of clothes here, but I've seemed to have outgrown them. I didn't think about bringing any." His cock looked a little flushed and swollen. I knew he had jacked off in the shower. I almost did too. I wrapped my towel around me and said, "We'll find you something." In the master bedroom, we found a couple of robes that I assumed belonged to his grandfather. "What would you like to do now?" I asked Dillon. "My grandfather and I used to play checkers." "Checkers it is then." We sat down at a nice checker board table and played. "When did you start having trouble with nannies and tutors?" "I guess right after my mom died. All of a sudden my nanny thought she was my mother. I didn't want another mother. I guess it's in the job description to be motherly, but I didn't appreciate it." "What about tutors?" "I used to go to school. Remember I said I didn't like doing the schoolwork. I just stopped doing it. Of course that sent the school and my dad into a tailspin. He hired a tutor. I told the tutor I didn't need tutoring. Well obviously I'm stupid, of course I needed tutoring, just look at my school grades. So I guess it became a challenge. They wanted to make me do the work, and I wanted to get rid of them. I won. Every time. Same with the nannies I didn't need another mother, so I chased them away." "How am I different from them?" I asked. "You didn't hover over me and try to be my mother like the nannies. Hell you dished the shit back to me. Then, like on the drive here. You asked me what I knew. You found out and moved on. I'm sure if you find something I don't know you will teach me then move on." "How long has it been since you've been in school?" "When my grandfather died, I was already being kind of rude to tutors. After he was gone, I didn't go back to school. So four years, and quite a few tutors ago." "But the last two years were worse. Do you know why?" "Not really. I guess I'm just less patient. Just like in this checker game. It's your move for five minutes now." I was finding it hard to concentrate. Between finding out his history, and the fact that his robe was open and his dick was visible, I couldn't keep my mind on the game. I made my move, then looked back at his dick. He really was an attractive boy, and had a beautiful dick. I wondered what it would be like to watch him jerk off, or even do it for him. Then it came to me. "When did you start masturbating?" I asked as if it was like asking what time it is. "When I was... What? I don't do that?" "No, and I don't either. At least no more than ten times a day. Dillon, all guys masturbate. I know you did while you were in the shower earlier." "Did... did you watch me?" "I didn't have to. Your dick was still showing the after effects when you came in with your shorts at your knees. So when did you start masturbating? I don't mean just playing with your dick. You've been doing that since you were a baby. When did you start going for an orgasm?" "I don't remember exactly. I do know that I did it six times on my twelfth birthday. Sorta my birthday gift to myself." "Six? Impressive. When did you turn into a demon and start a collection of nanny and tutor heads?" "Funny you should ask. I chased the nanny I had then away that day. I think she was listening outside my bathroom door on my fourth round. By the way I just won. Another game?" "Sure." "Care to raise the stakes?" he asked. "I didn't realize we were gambling. I can't possibly play for the amount you can." "Did you ever play strip poker?" "Once in college." "Okay strip checkers then," he said with a smile. "You do realize we're both just wearing one article of clothing." "Yeah, but checkers takes longer to play than a poker hand." "Ok. I got nothing to lose except your grandfather's robe," I laughed. I must be rusty at checkers, because I lost in record time. I slipped out of the robe and handed it to him. "Another game?" he asked. "I haven't got anything else to wager." "What did you do back in college when one person was naked." "If a naked player lost another hand, he had to perform some task for the winner." "What kind of task?" "Well that is where strip poker becomes interesting. When you have males and females playing, the tasks are usually risque in nature. Usually with sexual overtones. Say for instance you have two couples playing. The girl of one couple loses a hand to the male of the other couple, she might be ordered to kiss him. As the game progresses and more people are naked the tasks get even bolder, depending on how close the couples are, it can get pretty wild." "So you played with girls and boys in college?" "No. I only played once, and it was six very drunk guys," I admitted. "What kind of tasks did you have to perform?" "I... uh... I was pretty drunk myself. I don't remember anything specific I had to do," I lied. I really didn't want to tell him what I do remember about that night. "So another game? Or do you plan to remain naked the rest of the night since you've lost your clothes?" "Uh... ok... But go easy on me. I'm sure to win a game soon and then you'll have to perform a task. Remember I can dish it out just as good as you." I lost again. "Obviously you're cheating," I complained. "You wish. I'm just very good at checkers. I beat my grandfather all the time." "Now you tell me. Okay. what's the task?" "Uh let's see. You said a kiss is a normal task. I want a kiss." I sighed, and walked over and gave him a peck on the cheek. "That's not a kiss. Do it right or I will think of something worse for you to do." "So, Mr. Hyde has returned?" I remarked. "Yep." I leaned down and kissed his lips. He seemed to return it, and I felt a stirring in my cock. I pulled away before I got more than a little chubby, and hid it as I walked back to my seat. "Another game?" he snickered. "I would have better luck with poker. I still say you're cheating." "I don't know how to play poker. How about just cutting a deck, high card wins. It would be faster too." "Well at least I would have a fifty fifty chance of winning that way. Ok." He got a deck of cards. "Just to show I'm not cheating, you shuffle." I shuffled, and cut. I drew an eight. Not great. Dillon drew a two. "Damn," he said, and removed his robe. Next I drew a King. very nice. Dillon drew a six. "Damn. Be nice. I only made you give me a kiss," he reminded me. "Okay, fair is fair. I'll take a kiss too," I said letting him off the hook. He stood and came to my side of the table. He bent down to kiss me, placing his hand on my thigh for support. The kiss lasted twice as long as the one I gave him. I didn't complain though. He walked back to his side of the table and I saw his rigid dick just as he sat down. "Uh... Since I lost that round, I get to draw first this time," he stuttered. "Yeah... sure." Dillon drew a four. "Damn." I drew a three. "Oh... I got lucky that time," he stated. "Smart ass. Okay what do you want?" "Hmm. You have to stand beside me for three rounds." I walked over to his side of the table and stood there. My cock was fluffy and growing from the kisses. He just looked at it. "Shuffle," he said. I shuffled, and was looking down at his hard dick the whole time. I drew a nine. Dillon drew a queen. "Since you're already standing here, I think I would like another kiss." For some reason I was hoping he would say that. I leaned down and kissed him. Our tongues did battle for a minute, and when I broke the kiss, I was hard as stone and sticking straight out. Dillon smiled. "It's your draw." I drew a five, he drew a nine. "Yes!" he said with a fist pump. "I think you're cheating again," I complained, but my heart wasn't in it. "Let me think. Oh I know. I want you to close your eyes, and stand perfectly still for five minutes. No moving at all." I did as I was instructed. I had no more than closed my eyes, when I felt his fingers around my cock. I moaned a little. And sucked air in through my teeth. "No moving, and no peeking," Dillon reminded me. His fingers slid down to the base of my cock very slowly, then up to the head. As they slid down to the base again, I felt something on the very tip of my cock. Almost like a butterfly flew past it. His hand slid up and back down again, This time I know I felt something drag over my cock head. He kept this up with the sensations on the end of my cock increasing in intensity. After what seemed forever, my cockhead was engulfed in something warm and wet. It could only be his mouth. I had to look. Through slitted eyes, I see Dillon's head moving back and forth over the first couple of inches of my cock. He's not trying to make me cum though. It's as if he was experimenting. Trying it to see if he liked it. I know I did. He was driving me crazy. Finally I said, "Surely five minutes are up." His hand slid down to the base, and his mouth followed. Taking as much as he could, just to see how much he could take. Then he slid off, and let go of it. "Yeah time's up now," he said hoarsely. MY draw was a eight. His was a six. "That's the end of three rounds, so I think you should have to stand beside me with your eyes closed and not move for five minutes," I commanded. I sat in my chair, and Dillon stood beside me. His cock stood almost upright in front of him. Flashbacks of my one and only game of strip poker came to my mind. I was eye level with a cock then too. It was a task assigned by a drunken friend after everyone else had dropped out of the game and left. There was no time limit, I was ordered to give him a blow job. I was drunk enough to do it. This was different. It was I who had assigned the task. And I wanted to this time. I didn't last time. Unlike Dillon, I wasn't tentative. I went straight for it. I looked up to see that his eyes were closed, grasped his cock, and lid my mouth down until I could feel him in my throat. His sparse pubic hair tickled my nose as I heard him groan. I quickly went from taking it in, to bobbing up and down on it. I wanted to make him cum, not just try it out. Dillon moaned throughout the whole time. I know he wanted to grab my head, but resisted the temptation. I fondled his balls and licked the fat knob, as I bounced my sucking mouth on this beautiful boy. His legs began to shake, his body straining as he tried to remain motionless. I watched his stomach muscles tighten, and felt his ball sack draw up in my hand. Suddenly I felt the first volley of cum hit the roof of my mouth, and I took his knob into my throat for the rest of it. I gripped his hips and pulled him in tight to my face, as he unloaded my reward into me. He hadn't lasted three minutes, so I got to enjoy him a little longer. He barely softened at all when I withdrew from him, cleaning his knob on the way out. Ross had given me free reign, but I doubt this is what he had in mind for me to teach his son. I continued to fondle the boy, admiring his beautiful body, and especially his cock. I leaned back in my chair, and just looked at him. He was breathing raggedly, coming down from his orgasm. "Okay, five minutes are up," I noted. Dillon made his way to his chair on wobbly legs. "I think we've had enough games for today." "Are you sure? I don't mind playing another round or two." It's almost five. Let's figure out what we want for dinner." I am always hungry after a snack, I chuckled to myself. Dillon acted no different toward me after I had sucked his dick, which is something I worried about. We decided to grill burgers on the deck. As the sunset, we sat down to eat. Neither of us mentioned our earlier games, but we were still wearing our robes. It was a beautiful night, and we just stayed out there enjoying the serenity. "My grandfather said the best time to fish is at dawn. If we go to bed soon, we can get an early jump on those fish," Dillon said. *** I fell asleep easily, my mind filled with thoughts and visions of Dillon. I was in the middle of one such dream, when I realized it wasn't a dream. Dillon was under the cover, his head bobbing up and down on my cock. "Dillon. Oh... You don't have to do this... Mm." He took his mouth off long enough to say "Sometimes life repays in kind." I couldn't help but to enjoy what he was doing. His mouth felt like it was made to suck my cock. I tried to warn him before I unloaded, but he didn't hesitate to keep sucking. He swallowed my load without missing a drop, then reluctantly released my cock. "It's time to get up, the fish are waiting," Dillon said as he licked his lips. The sun was just creeping over the horizon when we set up our fishing rods. "It's beautiful here, Why doesn't your father like to come here?" "I suppose it reminds him of his father. Maybe Mom too." "Did he tell you that?" "No, we don't talk much. Probably my fault. I haven't been a very nice person," Dillon admitted. "Nah. Not you. Really?" I said sarcastically. Dillon punched my arm, then reeled in a nice sized fish. "So, now that you know my life history, what is your professional diagnosis?" Dillon asked, only half joking. "Well, I wouldn't say I'm a professional anything except student." "Then why did my father hire you?" "I've had a bit of luck with handicapped children." "Handicapped? My father thinks I'm handicapped?" Shit. That was probably not the right thing to say. Now I have to back peddle my way out of this. "I didn't say that. I think your father just doesn't have any experience working with kids. He's more of a numbers kinda guy. Running a big company, he delegates to others and expects them to do their job. When you were young, your mother handled the job of raising you. Then, when she passed, he hired what he thought to be, people who took care of the things a child needs. At the time, your propensity for solitude sent mixed signals to him. He sent you to doctors whose job is to find clinical problems. That sent more wrong information to him." "You're saying, you don't think there's anything wrong? Then why am I this way? Why do I treat people like shit? Why have I pushed everyone away?" Dillon through his arms around me and began to sob. "Why doesn't anyone love me?" He finally asked. My heart broke at that. I couldn't understand it either. He was a wonderful person trapped in a bad situation, not of his doing. "Dillon. I love you. I think your father does too. I'm going to help all I can." "Promise?" "I promise." After another minute of comforting embrace, Dillon pulled away. "You smell fishy again," he said with a smile. "You're the only one who's caught any fish. It must be you that smells that way. I only do because you wiped in on me." "Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Let's go shower before we eat this time." "Okay, but you carry the fish," I laughed. I had just entered the shower when Dillon appeared. He was already nude and just opened the glass door and stepped in with me. Dillon didn't hesitate to put his arms around me. We stood under the pouring shower enjoying the embrace. My cock grew hard, and so did his. We washed each other slowly, neither speaking. When I lathered his dick, he pulled away. I could tell he was on the verge of cumming and didn't want to just yet. His hands went to my cock and lathered it. "I want to be sure it's very clean," he said. We dried off, and he led me to the bed. It seemed he couldn't get enough cuddling. "There's lube in the drawer," he said. "What?" I asked stunned. "I want you to make love to me." "Dillon..." "Please?" His ankles were on my shoulders, I was lubed and ready, lined up with his pucker. "Dillon, we don't have to do this." "I know. I want to do this. I want to do it with you. I've never felt closer to anyone in my life than you. Please make love to me." As I applied pressure to his opening, I felt guilty about taking advantage of his lack of an emotional relationship with his father. My cockhead cleared his muscle ring, and I was inside this wonderful boy. He grunted, but didn't complain or pull away. As I sunk into him, he put his arms around me and pulled me to him. His moans incited me. I pushed my guilt away with every thrust into him. I was making love to him because I did love him, and hoped he felt the same. I didn't want this to be just a case of misplaced affection. I had worked about six inches [15 cm] into him and began taking slow strokes, going no deeper. His response to my loving was greater than I could imagine. Having no experience with women or men, I was thrilled at being able to make someone have those feelings. "I want it all," Dillon said. He could tell I wasn't balls deep in him. I gradually gave him more of my cock on each thrust, until he and I could feel my balls on his butt. Even then, I wanted to give him more. I pressed hard against him, making sure he had all I had to give. "Now, fuck me hard." I did as he wanted, and as I wanted as well. He continued to moan as my cock rearranged his insides to fit me. "Oh... Jesus, Brent. I'm cumming," he moaned. It was just as I was hoping to hear. I loved knowing I was doing that for him, and it pushed me over the edge too. I exploded inside him as I felt his dick throbbed out his cum between our bellies. "That was incredible," Dillon said after we had calmed down. "Is it always like that?" "I don't think so." *** We left the next day, after spending much of the time in bed. Back at the Hamilton place, I arranged a meeting with Ross. I told Dillon I would meet him later for dinner. "Ross, I hate to tell you this, but..." "It's worse than we thought. Surely there must be something we can do." "No, that's not why I'm here. I'm sorry to tell you that you don't need my services. I would love to stay here and take your money, but..." "What? Of course I need your services," Ross argued. "Look, Ross. I never claimed to be an expert on kids, or anything else for that matter. You asked me to help, and this is my recommendation. Spend some time with your son. Plain and simple. "There is nothing wrong with him. The problem is he is starved for attention. Your attention in particular. You can't keep a kid lock up in some sort of ivory tower and expect him to turn out normal. "When his mother died, you sent in surrogates to do what you should have been doing. Being a parent. You couldn't replace his mother with a nanny. But you could have been the father he needed." Ross got rather defencive. "I have given him everything a kid could ask for. He's my son, and I love him." "Really? What's his favorite sports team?" "Uh... I uh... I don't know." "San Antonio Spurs. Ok how about an easier question. What's his favorite color?" "Umm..." "Exactly. You don't know because you have never spent any time with him." "What about the last two years? He has become a monster." Ross countered in defence. "Puberty. It's a bitch for everyone. He has just rebelled even more because of it. I will stay the rest of the week, at that point, I want you to start making time for him. I know you are busy, but you should at least have dinner with him, or spend some quality time with him every day. And try to get him into some college courses. The kid is brilliant and bored." After dinner, I told Dillon I would be leaving at the end of the week. "You can't leave me. What am I going to do without you?" "Dillon, you don't need me. I've talked to your father. You have to give him a chance to step up and be a parent. That is what you need. But if things get bad, you can call me anytime and I'll be here for you. I promise." The rest of the week, we spent much of the time talking and much of it in bed. His father had dinner with us the next night, and the night after, I left them to have dinner alone. *** My last day there was a tearful farewell. Ross had plans to take Dillon to the lake house the next day. It would be a good bonding time for them I hoped. A week later, there's a knock at my door. A messenger handed me an envelope. Inside was a note from Ross. Brent, Thank you for giving my son back to me. You were one hundred percent correct, he is a wonderful child, and I owe it all to you. Call me if you ever need anything. Ross I also found a check for twenty five thousand dollars, and the keys to the Mercedes which was parked in front of the house. Not bad for a week's work. *** Two days later, I get a call. "Is this Brent Latham?" "Yes." "My name is Juliette Howard, I'm a friend of Ross Hamilton." "What can I do for you Mrs. Howard?" "I really need your help with my kids." The End? © Cutter09 Please send comments: Cutter09 would love to hear what you think of the story! 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