Date: Tue, 26 Jul 2005 16:26:57 -0500
From: Aihufist@yahoo.com
Subject: video arcades in Rio de Janeiro

		      Video Arcades in Rio de Janeiro
			       by Aihu Fist

Boys plenty with sensuality in the air; boys moving their bodies against
machines, hands on the tables, wrists giving blows over the glass
cover. Elbows poking into ribs. Violent games with blood running amok right
over the screen. On the monitors it read: prohibited to access
pornography. Butts of all sizes and crotches too. Longhaired, skin headed,
curly Afro locks on Egyptian shaped like skulls, fat lips, and thin tight
ones. Mouths writhing; and clenching, grinding teeth. I drew nearer,
mingled with the crowd. My penis filling with blood; stiffening the muscle
ready for action. How many of these boys were game boys? How they adored
the muscled ninjas and other creeps. Game boys watching action men. And
what game they were...

I was discreet and unnoticed. I was small or tall depending on the size of
the youth next to me. One who looked thirteen year old could be eight too
or vice versa. Precociousness abound and easy to play around with. Another
push in my stomach: boys were nearly lying over the other boy to hold the
steering wheel. I was now very close, my Lycra Bermuda, a perfect hideout
for my standing cock. Half of my body was in the dark; no one took notice
of my raging rod. I could see pre cum leaking through the fabric; I wasn't
wearing anything underneath. As everyone lay on everyone, bending or
pushing I decided to blend in, go with the flow. I saw a goal at the level
of my sensitive glans. My object was wrapped up in Lycra too: a bicycle
outfit. I let go and fell over him, looking at the screen he was watching.
I got to lay my hard one right in the missing part of this moving jigsaw;
the right piece in the right place. It felt warm and sweaty. Both tissues
became one. No one saw it. Shouting, laughing, rubbing, pushing, limbs
heated up. I pushed harder, my second skin was stretching itself beyond its
limits. I moved into the rhythm of him bending and standing, bending and
standing, I believe I felt something back. A little push? Was it really a
little push backwards? Another one. I replied and dove deeper, strutting my
hips. My torso on his back, I lay still. I pushed harder, I believe my rod
stood 45 grades forward, his legs a little spread out. I felt one more
push.

He had blond hair, fair complexion I guessed, just by the look of his ears
that sprang out of his uncombed hair. He was wet with sweat allover. I
became drunk by the smell of it. Not once he'd looked back, I lost sight of
the other boys, though they were at my sides. It was him only him who I was
nailing discretely. He must have been thinking that it was just his friends
pushing him. How often I stroke boys through their hair on the street and
never even they look up, they are so busy with themselves they rarely feel
anything of a touch. I wonder why?

I believe I was near his balls with my pushing, my own Lycra texture really
being worn out there. I turned up the tempo and got harder and harder on
him. Still no looking back. He got his arse moving a bit to the left then
to the right. I couldn't hold back and decided to release my dick from this
Lycra jail. My left hand pulled my lord through my left leg sleeve into the
stifling hot air. There was no air-condition, most of the boys wore
T-shirts without sleeves, I could see their nipples. Some Afro boys were
half naked, perspiring. Belly buttons glistening like little pearls.

My hard rod was ready to enter, wherever it had to. I directed him nicely
and smoothly through the passage, scrubbing the fat patch of crotch
protection. It was itchy for a while, I withdrew and laid it flat against
the boy's bottom still within the crevice, which was clearly outlined by
its fabric. No one saw what I did. That's what I thought, until I felt
something grab my balls. It was a tiny little hand with equally small but
warm fingers. I looked down to find out where that hand came form and
spotted a pair of blinking eyes from Negro boy. He winked at me and stuck
out his tongue, urging me to go on. He liked it. He put his finger on his
mouth as to say I should be quiet or that he wouldn't say anything. One
other hand moved up the other sleeve of my lycras reaching my pubic hair. I
looked up and pressed harder, rubbing the glans. The Negro boy left my
groin with his hand and tapped my balls softly. I stopped moving and pulled
back. The boys around me still concentrated on the game like my blond
passive partner. I stood erect an still, the Negro boy took my cock in his
mouth and started sucking on it at the same time making a gesture that he
wanted money for this. I winked at him and returned him an answer with
thumb up.

I let him suck for a while. Without saying anything he put my cock back
where it was and cupped my balls with both hands, caressing them nicely,
softly. I couldn't moan, though. I felt like ripping those biker shorts
down at once, which I couldn't either.

The boy kept on pressing his butt nearly suffocating my dick; I almost had
my hand on his crotch. I decided to have a try. In a stealthy way I snake
wise slid my hand down from the right side. His upper leg wasn't touching
the other boy in front of him. Just around the bend of that leg I sensed a
slight slope of boyish meat. I could feel his meat and surely he couldn't
feel mine, I thought. I was intoxicated with an uncontrollable desire to
grab it. My fingers spread apart to get hold of that fat patch, which was
covering something more fragile, sensitive. To my surprise my hand
discovered wood! Moving wood, standing firm like a tree.

The head in front of swished backwards and looked me right in the eyes,
excited, wild, willing, nervous, wondering. His mouth opened like in a slow
motion presenting a pointy tongue at me. His butt tightened and pushed me
back. I knew it was now or never. My hand found its way into his shorts
like a spider its web and took hold of his boyhood, hand palming it,
thumbing it, and devouring it with hungry fingers. Peeling the foreskin
down. Nipping at the conic glans of his boy pride. The Negro boy helped me
a hand by rolling the boys bike pants below his butt cheeks. Led my cock at
once to the boys crack. All in one uninterrupted movement. No one was
watching, just Negro boy, Blondie and me.

Men and boy; correction: men and two boys, humping in the dark like
footloose dolphins.

Losing virginity in the dark. His sweat lubed arse absorbing my ramming
limb inside his frail fleshy pillow. I finally shot right up his cheeks.
Blondie looked back once more; than at his backside. It took no more than a
minute for him to splash his fresh semen landing it on the boy's pants in
front of him.

Negro boy rolled up the bike shorts, I stuffed my penis back where it
belonged and walked away. Blondie let me go like that, no angry feelings at
all. He turned his head back to the game and screamed at his friends in
ecstasy about who should win. Negro followed me in to the bath room, washed
his hands, took his a note of ten reais ogling at it with a salesman's eye
and disappeared between the crowd on the pavement.

That was a hell of a video game, if you ask me.

Aihufist@yahoo.com