Date: Tue, 09 Jan 2018 21:48:21 -0500 From: Greengreenwriter Subject: The Smartest Boy at Work -- gay/adult-youth Author's Note: The following is a completely fictional story based around no real people or events. It involves a sexual encounter between an adult and a 15 year old boy. If this offends you, please don't read this work of fiction. I do not endorse behavior like this in real life -- some things are better left for the imagination. That being said, I hope you enjoy my imagination! --- I thought today would be just another day in the office, another day making money to pay rent, to buy food, and to save up for eventual retirement... you know, all the things an adult has to do to exist in modern society. But boy, oh boy, was I wrong! Actually, it was a boy who proved me wrong. Last week, my coworker told me his brother, a guy named Artie, would be stopping by the office today. I didn't know much about Artie, other than that he was attending his first year of college and needed a part-time job. I figured he'd be 18 years old or so. Now, 18-year-olds can be incredibly sexy, but a young man of 18 is already past those precious few years when he is first discovering his budding sexuality, when his body and mind are each growing and changing every month. At 18, a boy is settling into adulthood. When Artie walked into the office, my stomach did a backflip. There was no way he was 18. Fourteen, maybe. A sweaty t-shirt clung tightly to Artie's 5'1" frame, hanging over his baggy shorts, which ended just above his knees. His pale face was slightly blushed from the outdoor heat, and his glasses had slipped down his adorable nose. If I had to describe him in one short phrase, it might be: a beautiful eastern-European geek. His eyes nervously darted around the office, and he stood awkwardly by the elevator, unsure of himself. "Hey," I called, walking over and extending my hand. "You must be Artie." "Yes, that's me," he answered flatly, taking my hand and giving it a firm shake. His voice was deeper than a child's but higher than I guessed it would be in a year or two. His face remained perfectly expressionless, which I interpreted as nervousness. "Awesome! I'm Jake. Your brother's in a meeting, so why don't I get you set up at your desk?" "Sure, ok." "Do you want anything to drink?" "Yeah." I led him to the fridge, where I grabbed a cranberry seltzer. He copied me and took one as well. He chugged down the whole thing in a matter of seconds, then smiled anxiously and said, "Sorry, I was thirsty." "I don't blame you, dude. It's hot out there." And it was. It was one of those sticky days in the city, where the humidity matched the high temperature to create a soupy, potent mixture of barely-breathable air. "So, you're in college?" "Yeah, freshman year. But I just turned 15. I graduated 4 years early from high school." "Wow! You must be pretty smart." "In some ways, I guess." He smiled very slightly, then looked away. "How about we get you a computer, and I'll start training you?" "Works for me." I began to teach him his responsibilities, and the rest of the day passed with little fanfare. My imagination was another story. In my mind, plenty of colorful events transpired as I stole looks at his nicely muscled arms and wondered what his body might look like beneath his loose shirt. I sighed, content simply to be so close to this beautiful, smart boy. That was enough. Then, near the end of the work day, Artie stated, "I don't have class until 8:30. Do you think I could hang out at your place until then?" "Sure," I answered a little too quickly. Earlier, in a fit of hope, I'd blurted out how close my apartment was to the office. He'd obviously remembered that fact, but he raised his eyebrows at my eagerness. I thought, surely the kid just wants somewhere to hang out before class instead of wandering the hot streets. None of the wild fantasies that had been swimming feverishly though my head all day could possibly come true. Right? Wrong! As soon as we reached the apartment, Artie sat down in my comfy chair across from my couch. I took up a position on the couch and asked, "So, you wanna play a video game or something? I have the Nintendo Switch!" "No, that's not why I came here," he stated calmly. "Oh? Why did you come here, then?" "My brother says you're gay. Is that true?" "Yes," I said breathlessly. I didn't know where this was headed, but I suddenly felt more nervous and excited than I've felt in my life. Artie seemed like a straightforward boy, but his direct questions were on another level entirely. "Do you think I'm cute?" he asked, staring intently at me. "Well..." I wanted to answer him honestly, but Artie was obviously a tremendously intelligent kid. Was he playing me, trying to get me to say something compromising? What reason would he have to do so? My head spun with the possibilities, before I thought, fuck it. "Yes, Artie. I think you're incredibly cute." "I think you're cute, too. A bit old, but still cute." "30 is a bit old," I agreed. "I'm twice your age." Artie shrugged. "I'd like you to make me cum," Artie said, continuing to look me straight in the eyes. I nearly choked on my own saliva. "You can't just come right out and say a thing like that!" I exclaimed, my cheeks burning a bright red. "Why not? I want to feel what it's like to have another guy make me cum. I'm gay also, and I'd like the first guy I'm with to know what he's doing with me. My brother has told me a lot about you, about how he thinks we'd get along. Well, now I agree with him. I can tell you're attracted to me, and if you aren't', you should tell me. I'm not afraid of rejection. So let's skip ahead to the part where you make me orgasm." "Sex isn't just about making someone orgasm," I protested. "Ideally, you should know and like the person first before it gets to that point." "Yes, I understand all of that," Artie said impatiently. "I may like you, or I may not. We can decide that in the days and weeks to come. Right now, all I'm asking is if you'll get me off. If you won't, that's totally okay." I looked at him for a long moment, finally saying, "I will." I figured, why argue? Artie clearly knew what he needed and had guessed at what I wanted. Screw the consequences. Chances like this never come along, at least for me. "So you'll make me orgasm?" "Yes." "How?" "Come here, and I'll show you," I said in what I hoped was a seductive voice. But Artie was seducing me. I didn't really need to do much work. Artie walked over to me, while I remained seated on the couch. I lifted his shirt, and he helpfully raised his arms to assist me. His smooth stomach came into view, then his somewhat-defined chest, followed by his hairless armpits. He stood before me, a perfect example of budding manhood. His muscles were present but not overly-defined, and his thin frame widened somewhat near his shoulders. His skin was incredibly pale, glowing temptingly in the warm light from my lamp. "Like what you see?" he asked confidently, simultaneously shaking with nerves. "Yeah," I said simply. "I do." "Let's see that body you've been bragging about all day," he quipped. I made sure to mention that I'd been hitting the gym for a few months, after he told me he was trying to gain muscle and become more active. I pulled off my t-shirt, revealing what a year of training had accomplished. Ten years ago, I might have looked much better, but at 30, I think I had made a fair amount of progress. My pecs and abs had nice definition, and my body fat was very low. Artie looked at me approvingly, letting his gaze linger on my sparse chest hair and small nipples. "Your body doesn't look much older than mine," he noted. "Now, I want you to finish undressing me." Artie moved towards me and stood in between my spread legs. My erection had pushed itself painfully down the leg of my jeans at this point. I undid the button at the top of his shorts, unzipped the fly, and tugged the shorts off with his underwear. No messing around for me. I wanted to see what he was hiding in there. As soon as his pants reached his thighs, his uncut cock sprang to attention, hard like only the penis of a boy at the height of puberty can be. A small bush of dark hair hugged the base of his cock, and his smooth balls dangled in a full sack temptingly between his pale thighs. The smell of unwashed boy flooded my nostrils, a pleasing odor that had accumulated throughout the day since his morning shower. I stroked his hairless legs, running my hands up to his inner thighs while he watched my ministrations. Quite suddenly, I cupped his balls with one hand while grasping his shaft with the other. He gasped. I estimated him to be around five inches long and moderately thick as I held him, feeling his heart beat powerfully through his boyhood. Slowly, I peeled back his foreskin, which slid smoothly back over his glistening cockhead. He pushed into my hand, overcome by the feelings plowing through his young, tight body. I could tell that the boy was in heat, struggling not to hump my hand wildly. I stroked him a few times, and his breathing began to hasten. "Wow," he said. "That feels better than I expected." "You just wait," I replied. Leaning forward, I took his cockhead into my warm mouth, using my tongue to massage his sensitive glans. He shook, moaning, as he thrust his penis forward into my eager throat. Anticipating his move, I smoothly began to bob up and down over his penis, letting my tongue swipe the end on each downstroke. He really began to pant now, sweat forming against his smooth chest and dripping down to his belly button. I rubbed his perineum, massaging back and forth as I sucked him off. I took a moment to glance up at his face to see him staring intently, longingly down at me. Then he closed his eyes, too caught up in his own pleasure to process the sight before him. "I'm going to..." He trailed off into a groan. I felt his balls tighten, and he squealed boyishly, breaking from his stoic persona at the height of his pleasure. He thrust deeply into my mouth, his pubic bush mashing itself into his nose, and I grabbed his round ass cheeks, pulling all of him into me. "AARGH," he gutturally moaned through clenched teeth as the first spurt of his boy cum shot into the back of my mouth. One, two, three more pumps of sperm flowed into the back of my throat before he began to slow. I pulled back, tonging his cockhead, and he thrust into me once more, releasing a final volley of boy cum into my mouth. I let his cock sit in my mouth for a few seconds, savoring its texture as it began to shrink before finally slipping out. Artie fell back onto the sofa, naked and drained completely. His eyes fluttered open, and he said, "That was fucking amazing." "Yeah," I agreed. "It was fucking amazing." "I wanna see yours now," he demanded reaching out to my pants. I stood up, allowing him to pull my pants down. I was already so close to cumming from the erotic experience that I'd just undergone that I knew it'd take him only a few strokes to get me off. My 7.5 inch cut cock sprung up, harder than it had been since I was 15, 15 years ago. "Shit," he breathed out. His hand didn't even stretch around my substantial girth. "Here, lean back," I suggested. He did, and I straddled his chest, letting him stroke me. The sight of his flushed face and smooth body was too much. I came, shooting five powerful shots into his chin and neck until his milking became too painful. I gently stopped him, collapsing back and admiring his stunning body, which I had just covered in my sperm. "Thanks," I said. "That felt great." "It was amazing," he agreed. "I think we should do this again." "I'd love that." ----------- Thank you for reading! I read feedback at greengreenwriter@protonmail.com :)