Date: Wed, 08 May 2019 00:15:01 +0000 From: destabilizer15 Subject: "Young Lovers," Chapter 32 Chapter 32 As things turned out, I never did get to take my sex education project with Lawrence any farther. I hadn't seen him for a couple of days after our encounter, but I wasn't worried -- I felt sure he'd come around. But Martin returned from Hong Kong, and before I knew it he and Lawrence had had their meeting and the boy was on a plane back to the U.S. that same afternoon. I never did know why he changed his mind about becoming a Young Lover. I never saw him again. "Good!" Joon exclaimed emphatically when I told him the news that night after dinner. He and I were alone; Johnny was off with a new guest. I was still feeling a little sad about it, I guess, and I didn't appreciate Joon's attitude. "You know, you can be pretty damned harsh sometimes," I exclaimed. "I mean, you kicked the poor guy's ass, embarrassed him in front of other kids, sucked him off even though you knew he didn't want sex with a guy and hated your guts . . . " "Well, I'm sure you made him feel a whole lot better afterwards." His voice was bitter. I sighed, trying to be patient. "He's just a human being, Joon, trying to get through life the best he can. Doesn't know who he is, what he wants. He just had his body completely remade by some gay guy injecting him with chemicals, and here he is on a strange island, among a bunch of people he doesn't know, probably away from home for the first time. He tries to fit in by playing cards, screws up by cheating, and now everybody hates him. Some people here want to fuck him, some want to analyze him, you want to kill him. His whole life's turned upside down. Have a little compassion." Joon just stared at me. There was emotion working his face. "Come here," I commanded. After a second Joon approached and stood in front of me. I held him by the biceps, turned him and pushed his back firmly against the wall. I drew my face close. "And what about you, Joon? Where would you be now without my compassion? Do you think you're here right now just because I wanted to fuck you? You think that was all? Shit! Once I fucked you on St. Stephen's I could have dropped you like yesterday's news. Do you think you're here right now, with me, in my apartment, because you're so much better a fuck than I can get from anyone else.? Or maybe you think it's your charming personality? Your loving ways?" "NO!" I continued, before the boy could speak. "I had compassion for you!" He scowled in incredulity. "You pitied me!?" "Compassion isn't pity! Compassion is part of love! It includes -- respect, even. I won't deny it, I wanted you, I had a fascination with you, but it was more than that. I respected you right off. And I could see right off you were confused, you were angry inside and didn't know what to do about it. You were suffering. Once I beat you at the Game your world was turned upside down too. No future, no goals, nothing. I knew I wanted to make you my boy -- like I told you, I've never been more sure of anything in my life. But a big part of what I felt for you -- maybe the biggest part -- was compassion. You know compassion?" I shook him. "You familiar with it? Huh?" He swallowed, still saying nothing. "As long as you're my boy you have to keep learning from me! You're not ready to let me go just yet. Not until you learn what compassion is." We stared at each other, faces just inches apart. "I know what it is," he said quietly. "OK, yes. You have compassion for Johnny. I've seen it, and I respect you for it. You're patient, you're kind, you understand him. Now you gotta work on compassion for the other 9 billion people in the world." He continued to stare at me, but the anger had mostly faded from his face. "The next time you fuck Byron, I want you to show him some compassion too. And Nilai. And whoever else you sometimes have sex with. As a matter of fact, I want you to start showing kindness to everybody here. Not just civility. Kindness. And when you observe people -- boys, staff members, guests -- and you can see their insecurities, and you can sense their struggles, I want you to find understanding and compassion in your heart." He still stared, searching, I could see. I had never spoken to him like this before. I didn't know where it was all coming from myself. I reached down, grabbed the tail of his T-shirt, and pulled it up and over his head. He obediently shrugged out of it. I took my shirt off too and then, drawing my chest to his, my flesh to his flesh, I nuzzled his neck, then kissed his chin and cheek, then found his lips with mine at last. He was at first passive but then began nibbling my lips in return. I drew my palms up his sides and over his ribs, then tucked my thumbs into his hairless armpits, gripped his thin shoulder muscles and pressed him harder against the wall. I kissed him more forcefully. Then I backed off. "What needs to happen now?" I asked. He was silent a moment, then dropped to his knees and began to unfasten my shorts. I caressed his head in appreciation. In a moment he was stroking his erect cock, my shorts and boxer briefs were around my ankles and my cock was buried down my boy's throat. ********************************* Marco and I were just finishing up breakfast when Evan showed up. He was clearly not in a good mood. "So you're off to Manila today, huh?" Marco asked with a twinkle in his eye and an extra-cheery tone that was meant to needle, I knew. Evan shook his head morosely. "I can't fucking believe you're making me do this!" "Hey, it's not me!" Marco replied. "Its Martin! And it wasn't my idea to bring it up with him, either! If you'd just left the whole thing alone none of this would have happened." Evan shook his head again and took a huge bite out of his bagel and cream cheese. "You're the one who should go!" he protested, mouth full. "You handle the difficult cases!" "Yeah, but you find the talent! You're the one who got the kid's hopes up in the first place! So now you get to do the damage control." I could see that, wherever the issue was, Marco was hugely enjoying his friend's discomfiture. "What you guys need is third party intervention," I offered. "I'll be the deciding vote! What's the story?" Marco chuckled. "There's no deciding vote needed! He's goin'!" "What's so bad about a trip to Manila, man?" I asked Evan. "Seems like the last time we were there things went pretty damn OK!" Evan shook his head in disgust and didn't reply. I looked quizzically at Marco. He grinned and shook his head too. "Man, man . . . " "Come on guys, spill it. We reporters never give up til we get to the bottom of things." "OK, here's the deal," Marco began. " Awhile ago -- a year, actually -- we get this message from a kid who wants to come be a young lover. Nothing special about that -- even back then, before the deluge really hit, we were getting two or three a week. So Evan asks for a video and the kid FaceTimes him. Evan takes a look, and he sees nothing of interest. Right?" "Nothin'," Evan mumbled. "What was he, fourteen then?" "I think so. Plain, mousy face, big dorky glasses, starting to get some zits, which stand out like headlights cause he's got this real pasty white skin. And this ugly red hair stickin' out all over. And once the kid starts talking -- a total turnoff. A dingbat. Hyper as hell. Kid needed ritalin a lot more than sex." "But, soft-hearted Evan just can't bear to give these kids a flat no. So he leaves the door open a crack." "Shit, I told the kid no! I said it about five times! And he's fuckin' begging and pleading! He says he has a real big dick. I say I don't care, because nobody's gonna be able to get past all the rest of it long enough to look at it. But he's gotta show me his dick -- I guess he thinks that's his trump card. Like I'm gonna be so astonished I'll go back on everything I said and make him a young lover. So he's tryin' to maneuver himself around while taking off his pants so I can see his dick, even though I tell him I'm not interested. Then he knocks the phone off the table or wherever it was, and then practically falls on his ass tripping over his pants trying to prop the phone back up while pulling his shorts down. The kid was just a train wreck. I mean it would have been comical if it wasn't so pathetic. "So I say, `Just forget it, man!' He's there staring at the camera, one leg in his pants and one out, with this ugly scrawny body, and he's jabbering nonstop. Then he literally gets on his knees and begs -- I mean, you wouldn't believe it. I finally say, `OK, shut up!' So he does. And then I say, wait a year, do something with your hair, take care of those zits, maybe get some sun, and contact us again if you're still interested. And calm the fuck down when you FaceTime again -- nobody's gonna want to spend an evening in bed with a hyperactive motormouth. "So I send this message, right? I hear nothing back, I figure he's got the picture. I forget all about him." Evan sighed heavily. "And now you've heard from him all of a sudden?" I guessed. Marco chuckled. "Not only did we hear from him -- he's managed to fly all the way to Manila from wherever he's from, apparently by himself, and is all ready for us to come get him and bring him out here so he can start his dandy new career!" "Wow! Well, you said wait a year, so guess that's what he did! You gotta hand it to him for his determination!" I opined. "He's at the fucking airport right now!" Even said in exasperation. "So we're gonna have Evan go tell him `no' in person now!" Marco grinned. I shook my head. There was silence. "But . . ." I paused. "But what?" asked Marco. "What if the kid has really cleaned himself up? I mean, a lot can happen between fourteen and fifteen. Kids mature, they gain a sense of style . . . " "No way," insisted Even. "This kid is terminally clueless. I'm sure he's, like, the school loser. You know the type -- all the other kids are figuring out how to dress and talk so they don't get rejected or bullied by the school assholes, and meanwhile he's doing everything wrong." "Poor kid," I mused. "Oh, jeez," Evan shook his head. "So you're gonna be on his side?" I ignored this. "So how did he get all the way out to the Philippines by himself?" "No idea," Evan answered. "He just emailed late last night from the airport, announcing he's ready to be a young lover, and asking us to please come get him. No other details." "No pictures or video?" "Nope." "Hmph. Must have figured you'd have no choice but to take him because he'd come all this way. Kind of clever if you ask me. Or desperate." "Fucking stupid is what it is. When I tell him no and that's final, what's he gonna do then?" "Exactly." Evan glared at me, then dropped his head again and shook it in disgust. An impulse hit me. "Can I go with you?" I looked from Evan to Marco. Marco shrugged. "OK by me. Maybe you can give him some therapy. He may need it once Mr. Mean gets through with him." Evan snorted. "All he's gonna need is a ticket back to Indiana. And we're not giving him one, I'll tell you that." ***************************** The flight to Manila seemed to take forever. It was with some reluctance that I'd canceled a video session I'd scheduled with Jack and a guest he was seeing. I knew Jack would knock our viewers dead, and his guest seemed like a very nice -- and very gay -- enough guy, a handsome British dude with a personable nature. The video could have been a good accompaniment for the latest little blurb I was about to send to Barry in New York. Evan was still in a sour mood and wasn't much company, which didn't make the flight any easier. However, I was able to glean a little more information on this kid, whose name I learned was Parker. "So this kid Parker contacted you from the airport last night? That means he slept in the airport overnight?" "Who knows? Jet lag screws everybody up who comes out here. For all I know he was up all night driving all the airport workers crazy! Hey, remember that old comedy about a bunch of people on an airplane? There's this one guy who talks nonstop and is so boring everybody tries to kill themselves rather than listen to him any longer? That's this kid" I chuckled to myself. Evan was sometimes a grouch but he could be funny as hell. "So tell me more about how he looks. Any potential there at all?" Evan gave a dismissive snort. "Absolutely none." "Nothing for Butch to work with?" "If Butch can turn that nerd into someone guys would want to have sex with he's not just a master groomer, he's a god." "Did he say anything about his family? Like, how in the world they let a kid his age fly to Asia by himself to get a job being fucked by a bunch of men? I mean, that's not exactly most parents' career plan for their kids." "Lemme think. . . to tell you the truth, I don't remember much of it. His email was full of as much babble as his video conversation, if you want to call it that. I don't think he mentioned his parents at all. He did mention some guy's name a few times. Might have been a brother or friend or something." "Hmm. So when you actually talked to him online -- what was it, a year ago? What did he say about why he wanted to come? Was it the money? Does he think he's gay? Hates his life and wants to get away?" Evan shook his head and gave a gesture of disgust. "Beats me. I don't think he said. Hard to believe he's got a great life. Didn't seem particularly gay, though, just nerdy as hell." "Hmm. Interesting. You know, I've rarely seen a boy that has no potential at all. Maybe--" Evan gave me a sideways glance. "Don't even think about it." "Think about what?" I knew perfectly well where he was going. "You're not going to bring home a stray puppy, dammit! When you get back to the States if you want to try and rehabilitate one of your local losers, fine -- that's not what we do at Young Lovers." I was just a bit put out at this. "Well, I don't know . . . seems like Donte's probably earning a few thousand bucks a week more for Young Lovers than when he was refilling ketchup bottles. And Jack's back in the game after being about ready to kill himself. And it looks like Joon will be coming in pretty handy. And--" "All right, all right." Evan shook his head in his perennial gesture of resignation. "Let's just wait and see. This kid may surprise us." "The eternal optimist," he grumbled. "I like to think I'm -- alert to possibilities." "Yeah." Evan pulled his jacket over himself and closed his eyes. ****************************** We made our way across the tarmac. "We always deplane at this gate," Evan explained. "Airport staff knows us well. Anybody who's waiting for us would be directed here." "Before coming to Manila it had been awhile since I got off a plane without a jetway." "Lots of things are different in the Philippines." "Do they know what goes on at Young Lovers? The airport staff, I mean?" "Sure." "No issues?" "Not that I know of. Listen, underneath all that Catholic guilt Filipino blood runs hot. Most little Filipino kids sleep with their brothers in the same bed, and once the oldest one hits puberty he usually starts doing what comes natural with the rest of `em pretty fast. Like Alan and Nelson. By the time they're in their teens almost every kid sucks and gets sucked. To them it's just fun, not some big, serious deal. It's not about being gay -- they grow up, have girlfriends, and get married just like straight kids in the States. You can bet that just about every Filipino who works in this airport played around in his younger days. Quite a few of our Young Lovers are Filipino, as you've seen, so when these guys see rich foreigners come in to have some fun at Young Lovers they're probably happy. Some local families are eating better tonight because of all those dollars and euros." "Wow. And you know, it does seems like most tropical cultures are way more laid back about sex," I added. "Maybe it's the weather." We entered the building and were hit with an unpleasantly cold blast of air conditioned air. There was a solitary figure in the reception area, but he was neither a redhead nor a kid. A tall fellow in his forties wearing a stylish suit rose and approached us with a smile. "Hello! Is one of you Evan?" he asked. "That's me," Evan replied, extending a hand. "I'm Keith," he replied, giving it a shake, obviously expecting us to know who he was. "Mike," I said, shaking his hand. There was something lingering and suggestive in his grip and his just slightly too long gaze. This guy is gay, I thought. "Uh, I'm not sure who you are, actually," Evan said with an apologetic shrug. The guy's eyebrows shot up. "Ah! Well, Parker can be a little bit, uh, scattered, so he probably forgot to mention me. I'm his uncle. The chaperone on this adventure of his." "Mmm. We were sort of wondering about a 15-year-kld making a trip like this by himself. Where is he, by the way?" "in the bathroom. He'll be back in a minute." "Maybe it's best we talk a bit before he gets here, actually," said Evan. "I think, uh, Parker may have an unrealistic expectation about himself and Young Lovers." "What do you mean?" Evan summarized his initial conversation with the boy for his uncle and, although I noticed he left out such terms as "train wreck," "loser," and "nerd," he didn't beat around the bush as far as the boy's overall undesirability. He summarized: "So, I'm really sorry you had to make this whole trip for nothing." The man paused a moment, then took a breath. "Look, guys, I know how it must seem to you. I remember how Parker looked a year ago, back when he FaceTimed you. He was nobody's fantasy boy, that's for sure. But once you guys had rejected him, a lot happened. First he came out to me. I don't know why it took him so long -- he's known I was the gay uncle since he was a toddler. Anyway, he was determined to "get hot," as he said, and wanted me to help him. He was gonna take the year that you guys gave him and dedicate himself to becoming a guy men would want." Keith paused and ran a hand through his hair. "I'll admit, I wasn't crazy about this whole prostitution thing. I'm still not. I still think that, once he meets a few other gay kids, gets a little sexual experience, has a boyfriend . . ." he paused again. "But that's not what Parker wants?" I guessed. "No," the man said quietly. He looked up and me and Evan. "He's interested in men, not other kids. He doesn't want to date and fall in love, he's not interested in the LGBTQ club in his high school, he just . . . " "Wants sex. With men," Evan finished. Keith nodded. "Yeah. At first I told him I was against it, but he begged and pleaded." "I've experienced his begging and pleading," Evan reminded him. "So, yeah, I gave in." "What about his parents?" I wondered. "My brother's dead. And Parker's mom -- is not the most involved mother in the world. I don't want to get into the whole family drama, but let's just say that when Kevin -- my brother -- passed away and I got back into Parker's life he had had little adult involvement, and not much -- love, either." There was sudden emotion in the man's handsome face. The three of us sat in silence. The man sniffed. "Anyway, once I agreed to help, I set up a pretty ambitious regimen for him. Gym six days a week, new wardrobe, antibiotics for his skin, top quality grooming products -- the whole thing. I told him if he wanted my help he had to be willing to completely remake himself. I figured he wouldn't stick with it a month. You know how kids are. But damned if he didn't get totally into it." "Well, good for him if he made some improvements," Evan said. "I"m sure he was lucky to have a family member taking an interest. Still, I--" Evan suddenly topped talking. I followed his gaze down the concourse. The first thing I saw -- the first thing anyone would see -- was the orange hair. Not copper. Not reddish-brown. Long corkscrews of bright tangerine orange. The boy was taller than I'd expected, somehow. Skin tight jeans, snug fitting shirt. Something gold at his throat. He moved a bit oddly, with a kind of a lilt, but not ungracefully. As he drew nearer his face lit up with a smile, at once eager and tentative. He hesitated a bit as he came to a stop. Porcelain skin, not a blemish in sight. Sky blue eyes. And what looked very much like some pretty nice muscles underneath that shirt. "Um, hi, I'm Parker." he extended a hand awkwardly, first to me, then to Evan, instantly confused. "Sorry, I was in the bathroom. I mean, I'm not sorry I went the bathroom, I really had to go, I'm sorry I wasn't here. I mean, I shoulda been here cause, you know, I'm the one who's gonna be a Young Lover. Well, not for sure, I don't want you to think, I mean, I know you gotta--" Keith put a hand on the boy's arm. "Parker . . . " The boy looked like deer in headlights. "Sorry, I'm doing it again, huh? I don't why I always do that, I mean, I don't feel that nervous, I just can't help it! It seems like, even when I tell myself I shouldn't, I just--" Keith put his hand on Parker's arm again. They just looked at each other. The boy exhaled deeply. "Oh, jeez." I looked at Evan. Evan looked at Parker. Parker looked from one of us to the other, looking more anxious by the second. Evan finally broke the silence. "You've changed a little bit since I saw you last online." I gathered this was an understatement. The boy gulped, "Um, yes." I think he was afraid to say anymore for fear he wouldn't be able to stop. Instead he just looked at Evan rather desperately. Silence. Finally, he couldn't stand it anymore. "Do I look OK?" he burst out. "Please tell me I'm OK! I've worked really hard! I mean, you wouldn't believe how hard I've worked! Keith helped me so much, and everyday -- every single day -- I look at myself in the mirror and try to see how to make myself look good. I mean, I'm not saying I look that good, I know there's guys way better but still, I hope I'm good enough. I've, like, done a ton in the gym, can you tell? I mean, I hope you can tell. I should probably, like, show you my muscles -- um, not here though. Or should I? I mean, I could like take off my shirt, nobody's really around. But that would be kinda weird, right, I mean we're here in an airport, it's like a public place--" This time it was me who stopped him. My hand held his firm, surprisingly large bicep. He panted a bit, and he looked into my eyes -- hopeful, defenseless, pleading. His lips parted and I willed him to fall into me. In three seconds, with ridiculous ease, I had him. I moved my thumb over his bicep caressingly. Then I turned to Evan. "What do you think?" I tried to keep I-told-you-so from my face and voice, but wasn't successful. Evan narrowed his eyes at me. Then he turned to the boy. "I'm not really sure, Parker. The truth is, we flew in here today to tell you no." The boy swallowed, and closed his lips into a firm line. His chin trembled. He looked at Evan, then me. His eyes lingered on me in supplication. I still held his upper arm, caressing it occasionally. "You have, uh, made some improvement." Evan conceded. "So -- why do you want to come to Young Lovers, man? All this self-improvement you've done -- looks like you've cleared up your skin, done the best you could with that hair, got some pretty cool clothes. You say you've improved your body. You're not bad looking." He paused. Parker was hanging on every word. The truth was, Evan was really being unfair. Though there was something still odd about him, this kid actually had a pretty face, a charming if a bit goofy smile, and, though some people don't like redheads, I actually thought his orange mop was endearing. His personality seemed sweet, if naive and impulsive. Then there was whatever might be under those clothes. Evan was continuing. "So you can probably get a boyfriend back home, start fitting into the queer life, being a normal, corn-fed gay guy from the Midwest. Look, I can tell you're just an innocent kid. Young Lovers isn't any place for you! If you're here you'll be getting fucked by a different stranger every night, just--" "That's what I WANT!" the boy exclaimed, grabbing Evan by the arm with urgency. Evan stared a minute, then shook his head with a chuckle at the kid's naive bluntness. "I'm, like, a natural SLUT!" the boy added, his face absolutely earnest. I had to chuckle, mostly at the incredulous look on Evan's face. Keith, who had been quiet throughout this interchange, now spoke up. "Come on, man, you have no idea what you're talking about! You don't know what's really right for you sexually. `Natural slut!' You don't have any real experience--" "I do so," he groused, head down. "Ok, yes, that one time, which you admitted to me was a total mistake--" "Wait a minute. We need to know about this." Evan interrupted. "What's this mistake?" Keith bristled a bit at this. "Do you really need know every detail about his past? Isn't what he can do for you now what you really care about?" His face was now cold, almost accusatory. Evan didn't back down a bit. "If we were to take a chance on him -- which I frankly don't know why we would -- then his value to us as an employee would be based on a number of factors, among them his prior sexual experience, or lack of same. So yes, we need to know every relevant detail, absolutely." Keith was silent. "So, Parker, you too shy to tell us about this -- mistake?" "No!" the boy retorted sharply. "I'm not shy at all! I went to this park and I hung around outside this restroom cause I heard that's how you could pick up men. Or they would pick you up. I don't know, whichever happens first. And I waited the whole afternoon, well, maybe a couple of hours, and it was just these little kids, and a real old guy, and some workers or something, and then this one guy by himself finally goes in to pee and I follow him in and I was peeing next to him and I looked at him and he seemed kind of hot--I mean, not that hot, just OK, but still handsome enough I guess, not really my type, well, I don't think I actually know what my type is, and he looks over at me and then he looks down at my cock and then he says something like, `Oh man, that's a big dick you got there,' and I say, `Yeah,' and he says, `Can I suck it?" and I say, `Yeah, but I'd rather suck yours,' and then he says, `Come with me' and we go into the stall and he locks the door and then he pushes me down onto the toilet and it's kinda gross cause there isn't even any seat on it but I don't care cause he shoves his crotch right in my face and I start sucking him, I mean I never did it before so I really don't think I did very good, I mean, I tried, and I don't want you to think I couldn't do it good at Young Lovers, you'd just have to like teach me so I got some practice or something but anyways after a minute he says, `Get up kid' and so I got up and he turned me around and pulled down my pants real rough and then I said, `Are you gonna fuck me?' and he said, `Yeah,' and I said `OK, but I never did it before' and he laughs like he didn't care or maybe he didn't believe me, I couldn't tell, and then he pushes me forward so my hands are against the wall and all of a sudden he was trying to push his dick into me and I couldn't believe how much it hurt! I thought it was supposed to feel good like in the porn videos the guy is always moaning and saying, like, `Fuck yeah!' and stuff so maybe he just did it too fast or something but anyways I yelled and he puts his hand over my mouth real mean and then all of a sudden he just rams it into me and I thought I was gonna like pass out from the pain it was worse than getting kicked in the balls, or maybe almost that bad, and he just like rammed it into me about three or four times or actually it was more and it was like fire, I think he had the whole thing in or it felt like it anyway and I tried but I couldn't stand it but I couldn't tell him to stop cause his hand was still over my mouth so I bit his fingers and he yelled and pulled his hand away and I turned and shoved him and then I grabbed my pants and tried to run out of there but I fell cause I couldn't run with my pants around my ankles and then he cusses at me and shoves me aside and runs out and leaves me there. And Keith told me that was a totally stupid thing to do because what if he had like really ripped me open or infected me with AIDS or even killed me and I realized he was right I guess but I still want to get fucked by men, it doesn't change anything about that, in fact it seemed like after that happened I was even, like, hornier than ever, which I know sounds weird . . . Parker finally stopped then. The boy was breathing hard, almost as if he'd relived the experience, and I noticed perspiration on his upper lip right where just a hint of a mustache was trying to start. He looked from Evan to me to Evan, trying to read our faces. Finally Evan spoke. "So, see, that's a problem, Parker. Your value to us as a guy who's no longer a virgin is far less than if that hadn't happened." Keith, now irate, jumped to his feet. "That is just outrageous!" he exclaimed. "You mean to tell me that because this kid, just trying to act on his natural urges, was raped by some bastard, that he's now -- damaged goods!? What kind of message does that send? That does it! I've been against this whole thing from the beginning!" He turned to the boy and tried to be calm. "Parker you know I care for you and want the best for you. You finally convinced me that you'd never be happy unless you tried out the Young Lovers thing, so I've gone along the whole time. But this is too much! These people don't care about you! You're just a piece of meat to them, and a meal ticket! They can't sell you for as much as they thought they could get, so they're not that interested in you! Is this the kind of environment you want to live in? Is this what you want to trade life as a normal teenager for?!" For once Parker was speechless. His eyes wide and filling with tears, he looked wordlessly from Keith to Evan to me and back again. I placed my hand on his knee. He looked at me and, as before, just fell into me with no defenses at all. My heart clenched. All I wanted was to kiss him. Then Evan really surprised me. He rose to his feet, eye to eye with the boy's uncle. "Look, let's get something straight. Yes, Young Lovers is a business. And yes, the boys make money for us. They're also making plenty of money for themselves. A very large amount, in most cases. But there's a reason why we have a reputation as the number one boy love resort in the world. There's a reason why men try other places and keep coming back to us, even though our prices are higher. And there's a reason why boys flock to us, sometimes so many we can barely keep up with the influx. It's because the word is out. We are a humane, caring community. Our boys are healthy and happy. No boy has ever left Young Lovers dissatisfied. Not one! Ever!" He turned to Parker. "Kid, do you still want to be a Young Lover, even after hearing what your uncle has said?" The boy nodded, wordlessly, looking up at Even as if in supplication. "Come here, then," Evan gestured. The boy rose and stepped forward. And then Evan did something that forever increased my respect for him. With one arm he drew the boy toward him in a bear hug, with his other hand he cradled the boy's face and then tenderly, gently he kissed him. The boy stiffened for a second, then pressed against Evan ardently, finally wrapping him in his arms himself. Finally they broke their kiss. Parker stepped back, speechless, astonished. "Do you -- like -- do you wanna see my body?" he asked. I was beginning to realize this boy was king of the non sequitur. "It's, like, my strong point!" He began tugging his shirt out of his pants. Evan stopped him. "I'm sure your body's fine. We don't need to see it." He turned to Keith. "If, despite your reservations, you'll sign the paperwork, Parker will be a Young Lover." "AAAAHHHH!" yelled Parker, his face an explosion of excitement. "AAAHHH!!" I don't believe it! Oh my god! I don't believe it! Oh yes! YES! Oh thank you, thank you! Oh please, Keith, please! Thank you guys so much! I know I was all, like, confident and stuff coming here, but I was bluffing! I was so bluffing! My fingers were like shaking when I sent you guys that email! I was so afraid I wouldn't make it! I was afraid you wouldn't like me! Nobody's ever liked me! Nobody's ever thought I was someone they . . ." The boy suddenly burst into tears and collapsed into his chair, sobbing. ******************************* The last rays of the setting sun slanted into the cabin as the small plane droned its way back to Young Lovers. I watched Parker's peaceful face across the aisle as he slept, curled up in his seat, a bit of drool moistening his chin. "He's still a fucking nerd," muttered Evan. "I think he's beautiful," I whispered. And indeed I did. "And," I added, "that kiss you blasted him with didn't look like a you're-a-nerd kiss. It looked like a you're-hot-as-hell-and-I-want-some-of-you kiss." "It was a putting-the-funny-uncle-in-his-place-got-the-better-of-my-good-judgment kiss." "You're such a skeptic! You know he'll be OK! A little fine tuning, some of Butch's touches, a blowjob tutorial or two. You gotta admit, he's motivated as hell. And you know what -- I know out there in the boylove world there have got to be guys who just swoon over redheads. That creamy skin, those ice blue eyes . . . " "Lumpy cum." "What!?" "Lumpy cum. All redheads have it." "I never heard that! What are you talking about?" "It's true! You ever sucked off a redhead? I mean, a real carrot-top, like this one?" "No," I admitted. "Well, believe it!" "Hmmm. Only one way to find out, I guess." Evan gave me a sardonic glance. "I was kind of surprised that you didn't even check out his body, though," I said. "Seems like kind of an important feature." Evan glared at me. "I mean, you're the expert, I know," I hastened to add, not wanting to offend him. "I was just sort of surprised, is all." "Man, do you know what my job is?" Evan retorted. "Do you know how many hours a day I spend looking at pictures and video of teenagers who want to be Young Lovers? After awhile you get pretty good at judging what you're looking at, even through clothes, you know? The biggest transformation this kid has made since last year is his body. A year ago he was a scrawny mess. Now, maybe it was the gym, maybe a growth spurt, who knows? But he's changed. And yeah, I don't know the physical details, but I don't need to. I can tell he's proportioned right. That's the main thing. Sure, he might turn out to have some zits somewhere or too much body hair or whatever, but that wouldn't even slow Butch down -- he'd have that taken care of in no time. And if he needs better musculature or more definition here or there, Gino's got that. This kid's got the classic high chest, and that what counts. That's what I look for." "High chest? What do you mean?" Evan was warming to his topic. "OK, look at any hundred kids. A good thirty, forty of them will have potentially nice long legs but short, thick waists. They can still be attractive, of course, but it's a lot less likely. Another half will have long bellies but relatively short legs -- the percentage is higher among Asians. Some of `em are downright stubby. Only about, I'd say, ten to twenty percent of kids have what you want -- both long legs and a long belly. But for that to happen they have to have a short, high chest. This kid's got a high chest." I stared at him. "Think of some of the kids you've, uh, known. Jack. Ronny. Byron. What's the key to those beautiful bodies? Their muscles, skin, definition you might say. But that's all secondary. The hot overall look comes from long legs and a long waist. That's the foundation. Check it out next time you're with any of the boys. Even Joon, come to think of it." Seeing Joon's body in my mind's eye I realized at once what Evan was talking about. "Damn, you're right! I gotta hand it to you!" Evan raised an eyebrow that said "of course." I turned and looked at Parker again. The way he was scrunched into his seat gave me no sense of his body proportions. I did notice something I hadn't seen before, though. There seemed to be quite bulge in the front of his sky blue jeans. "What about his dick?" I asked. "He seemed to think he's really got something down there." Evan gave a dismissive shrug. "We'll see. Pretty soon big dicks aren't gonna be as important for me to find as they are now -- we're starting to get augmentation down." "Do you think he'll be one of the -- what do you guys call them? The `classic five' types?" Evan looked at the boy and considered. "Maybe the boy-next-door type." "I can see that. He's got that kind of eager puppy thing going." "Yeah, but fuck! That mouth! Before he's assigned any guests somebody's gonna have to teach him when to shut up!" "I think it's kinda cute! It makes him seem more -- what? Naive? Needy?" "More like fucking nerdy," Evan answered, still grumpy at how everything had turned out, apparently. Maybe he was already anticipating the ribbing Marco would be giving him for being softhearted. I gazed at the boy again. It seems that every time I looked at him he was cuter. I found myself longing to run my fingers through that amazing orange hair. To feel the softness of his cheek against my lips. To run my thumb back and forth over that big lump in his crotch. "Do you want me to work with him?" I ventured. "I think he's got a ton of potential." "WORK with him?" Evan jeered. "That's a good one!" "Or PLAY with him -- depends on how you look at it!" I smiled. "It's not up to me," he sniffed. "Talk to Marco." My glance retuned to Parker and I was startled to see that he was no longer asleep but was looking steadily at me. How much had he heard? I gazed back at him wordlessly. We stared for a long time, and I was struck again by how completely he was opening to me, and how much I wanted him. It was almost like we were making love with our eyes. Suddenly the boy rose from his seat, stepped across the aisle, leaned down, and planted a sloppy kiss square on my mouth. He pulled away, looking awkward and self-conscious. I stared back at him, stunned. Then I gestured to him to bend down again. He did so willingly. I grabbed him behind the neck and plastered my mouth against his, working my lips against his, letting him know by the firmness of my grip and the aggressiveness of my kiss that I was in charge. His little whimper as he writhed his lips against mine told me that was exactly what he wanted.