Date: Tue, 08 Sep 2020 18:30:33 +0000 From: destabilizer15 Subject: "Young Lovers," Chapter 49 Chapter 49 I woke up the next morning with a motherfucker of a hangover. Garth and I had spent half the night drinking and swapping stories of our adventures with boys all over the globe. By the time I had finally stumbled back to the apartment I had been too out of it to swallow my usual prophylactic pain meds. I had just tumbled into a crowded bed, climbing over a good-sized body that might have been Byron and tucking in next to a slight body that might have been Joon, and basically passed out. I now staggered out of bed as tropical sun blasted through the window, and I headed for the bathroom and my pain pills. The door was locked and I could hear the shower running. "Who the fuck locks the door around here when they're taking a shower?" I groused to nobody in particular. "It Parker," came Johnny's voice behind me. I turned and saw the boy sitting up in bed, pushing his thick hair out of his sleepy face. I went into the living room to wait and dropped down into a chair with a disgusted groan. I head Johnny climb out of bed, and he came out and stood next to me. I looked up at him and he gazed into my eyes solemnly. "Something wrong," he observed. "Yeah. I'm hung over and I have a headache like a knife in my skull. That's what's wrong." Johnny said nothing. I dropped my face into my palms. Then I felt the boy's hand on my neck, and he began to rub. "I'n gonna massage you, Mike. It alway feel better when you massaging me. It good for your headache. It stimalate the circalation." The boy's hands actually felt good as he worked my muscles. I had to smile to myself. "Where'd you learn about circulation?" "In Bio. We study the ten system of the body. Systems," he corrected himself. I reached behind me, curled one arm around his waist, pulled his naked body closer, leaned over and gave him a loud smacking kiss on the belly. "You always make me feel better, Johnny." Johnny kept rubbing me, and I felt a small kiss on the back of my neck. "Joon still asleep?" I asked after a minute. "He at Byron las' night." "Mph. What time is it anyway?" "Almos' 7:30." "7:30? You guys are gonna be late for class!" "It don' take me long. I'll be ready. Parker take long in the morning so I let him go firs'." "What did you and Parker do last night?" `We play cards. I teaching him poker." "That's nice. You said you were going to make better friends with him." "Parker fun. He smart too." "Yeah?" The smart I could kind of believe. The fun, though? "We having the same joggerphy class. He the bes' one, almos'. He getting good at poker las' night too. Then Leonardo draw us. We had to sitting still. It hard for me." The boy now began massaging my scalp as I had done to him many times before. "Mmmm, that's good. Did he draw you guys naked like he did you and Joon?' "He jus' drawing our faces. He say that's the hardes' so he needing practice. He did really good although." "Is that James in there now? Looked like there was somebody else in bed besides just you." "Yeah, that was me," came an older teenage voice to my right. I looked up. James leaned against the kitchenette wall, bare chested, wearing the familiar raggedy cutoff shorts he seemed to favor. He was eying me, his face pleasant but impassive. "I hope it's OK," the boy added. "I never really asked permission." "Oh, no need, no need at all. All boys are welcome." I smiled at him as best I could. "As long as they're cute." He flashed me a smile. It was big and bright, but it wasn't that warm, embracing smile that I knew was his real smile. The bathroom door opened then and Parker poked his head into the room, holding his towel against him. "Hi, sorry I took so long, sometimes when I get in the bathroom it seems like I take forever, I know, my Mom used to always get on me for making her late for work, it was cause she had to wait so long to take me to school, it would get her in bad traffic and so--" "Parker!" "Oh. Sorry. I--" "I'm too fucking hung over to get up and give you a `shut up kiss,' so you'll just have to take my word for it. You need to shut up, get dressed and get to class." "Yeah. Sorry," he muttered, withdrawing, his face suddenly sad. Shit. I had hurt the boy. Like so many always did. "Hey Parker," I called. He popped his head back in, looking at me almost pleadingly. I gazed at him a second. "Drop that towel." Startled, the boy hesitated, then dropped the towel to the floor. I let him see me admiring his body. My throat felt dry as I gazed at his luscious pecs, his washboard abs, his big swinging pink cock, his slender but muscular thighs. "My God you're gorgeous!" He blushed, shifted his weight, then bent and picked up the towel. "Thanks. I, um -- thanks. I gotta get dressed now, OK?" "All three of you need to get dressed," I announced briskly, standing up. I bent and kissed Johnny. "Thanks for the massage. I feel better already! You guys get going while I get my drugs. Parker, you didn't take them all while you were locked in there, did you?" "What? No, I -- I didn't steal any drugs! I would never take anybody else's stuff. And anyway, I don't do drugs! I just--" "PARKER!" *************************** It was several mornings later. Both Parker and James had now become nightly visitors and both usually slept over unless Parker had a guest. For some reason James never seemed to have one. Every morning the boys scrambled to get ready for class on time, and this particular morning four boys had been even later and more disorganized than usual. So I made my way to breakfast alone, glad to be away from the confusion and Joon's inevitable early morning grousing. As I trudged across the wet tropical sod my thoughts turned to James. The boy was a mystery. His cautious reserve with me left me confused and a bit frustrated. Every time I noticed him keeping his distance from me I found I was more intrigued. I didn't expect every boy I met to be enthralled and wanting to jump into bed with me, of course. I had certainly encountered plenty of teenage indifference in my life, as all boylovers have. Sometimes the chemistry just isn't there. But the thing was, it wasn't indifference I was getting from James, it was something else. And that something else was starting to get under my skin a little bit. Then there was the matter of his appearance. Every single kid on the island except the Game boys was groomed, clothed, coiffed and exfoliated with careful attention to detail. Anytime my gaze roamed over a group of boys -- in the gym, in the cafeteria, at the pool, or just walking around the grounds -- I saw well-chosen hair styles and perfectly-selected clothes. Not that lots of the boys weren't sometimes careless about having every hair in place and every item of clothing spotlessly clean -- rambunctious, carefree, impulsive boys will always have smudged knees and sweaty clothes and wildly messy hair sometimes. But I knew that when boys met their guests as young lovers they were always immaculately clean and presented themselves flawlessly. Notwithstanding any temporary boyish messiness, you could see the eye and hand of Butch and Gino at work. James, on the other hand, always looked as if he had just gotten out of bed. His clothes were often loose and sloppy, and even the occasional form-fitting T-shirt didn't really complement him. And those ugly shorts! They were of some indeterminate black/navy/dark gray color, baggy in the butt, with strings hanging down over his knees where they had been raggedly cut off. Checking out his body I had seen a slender, nondescript torso -- there was no sign he'd ever seen the inside of a gym, no sign of any attempt at all to make himself attractive. His hair was cut unflatteringly short. An unattractive shadow of facial hair had been allowed to remain on his jaw and upper lip. He even had a bit of acne at his temples. What was going on here? Why was he allowed to present himself to his guests like this? And finally, why in hell had I never seen any sign that James even had guests? He must have, of course -- but I had never seen him with a man. Not once. Was he not much in demand? He was pleasant enough looking, and he did have that wonderful smile, but he had neither a beautiful face nor a great body. Maybe he wasn't very successful as a fuckboy. Although I'd never heard of it happening, I supposed sooner or later a kid would wind up on the island and turn out to be a terrible lover. Maybe that was it. And maybe that was why Martin had been willing for him to leave for Australia for awhile to go to art school. Maybe they weren't making any money off him anyway. I made my way to the end of the cafeteria tray line, my nostrils tantalized by the fragrance of Chinese sausages, my favorite. I idly looked around the room and made eye contact with Evan as he headed back to his seat from the coffee bar. He gestured to me to join him, which I soon did. "Hey, did you check out the boys I screened yesterday?" I asked, plunking myself down next to him. "Haven't seen `em yet. Anything good?" "Oh man. There's this Thai kid who's really something. Says he's 16, looks 14. Cute, sexy, and charming as hell. Sweet body. Speaks decent English. Says he's a virgin, although as hot as he is it's hard to believe he's gotten this far without somebody jumping his bones. He's from Bangkok, for God's sake. And what an ass. I had to stop screening for awhile until I calmed down." "I'll check him out this morning. He sent video?" "Plenty. You'll love him." Evan spread guava jelly on his fourth piece of toast. "You see the email from Joe Collins?" he asked. "He copied you on it." "No. When did it come in?" "This morning. Just before I left for breakfast. Some interesting news about Johnny." "Johnny!" I exclaimed. "Did Joe finally get those test results?" "Yep." "And?" "There's some really fucked up shit in his bloodstream. Some strange hormones that don't belong there. He doesn't know for sure what they are -- they've been altered in some way, apparently. Joe says he thinks that's what caused his weird physical development, and also why he can't shoot." "Did he say if anything could be done for the poor kid?" "He doesn't know why the chemicals in his blood are still there. He says they should have been gone months ago, since they were injected, not natural. He says until they figure that out they won't know how to help him." "Hmph." Evan didn't meet my eyes. "He seems like he's really intrigued by the whole thing, so I'm guessing he's gonna keep working on it." I could see he was trying to offer some hope. I nodded. "I'll get back to him and let him know how, you know, how much it means . . ." I was overcome with a sudden wave of pity for Johnny that was so strong I couldn't speak for a moment. I remembered the sadness in his little face that day not long before when he asked me if he would ever be able to ejaculate like other boys. I exhaled a deep breath and decided to change the subject. "Hey, I've been meaning to ask you. What can you tell me about this black kid James? He's been hanging around quite a lot. Seems to be a bit of a mystery boy." I could have sworn Evan actually gave a little start as I mentioned James' name, and he flicked a glance at me with a strange expression I'd never seen before. "He hasn't -- he didn't tell you much, uh, about himself?" "Just a little about going to art school in Sydney. He seems like a pretty taciturn kid." "Yeah. Um, did Marco mention -- anything to you about him?" "Not a word. Why would he?" Evan hesitated, and was obviously holding back something. Finally he looked at me with a fixed stare. "Don't-- I don't think it's a good idea to-- get close to him. He's . . . ." "He's what? Bad news?" He glanced away. "You could say that." He wiped his mouth briskly with his napkin. "Hey, gotta go. Got work to do. See ya later." With that Evan picked up his tray and quickly left. I suddenly remembered how it felt when James had abruptly got up and left that day I'd first met and briefly talked with him. Something I'd said or asked had scared him off. It felt exactly the same way now. ***************************** I wouldn't say I was exactly obsessed with the mysterious James by then. But throughout my day, as I worked out, answered email, and did a video interview with a couple of guests I had met the day before, the boy did float in and out of my mind. Now I lounged by the pool, empty except for a small knot of older guests. I had my laptop propped on my belly and was checking out some video from some new applicants. At first I had always worked in Evan's office as I screened new talent, but now that I'd gotten my laptops networked with Evan's I usually worked on my own. A short, muscular German teen with a rather maniacal smile was flexing rapidly on the screen, apparently thinking this was adding to his allure. After a couple of minutes I moved him to the "no" folder, set my laptop aside and made a quick visit to the pool restroom. When I retuned several boys were wandering into the pool enclosure. I checked my phone -- school was just letting out. I lay back down with my laptop, but of course no boy video, however hot, could compete with real-life, scantily clad boy beauty a few yards away. I couldn't resist peering over the rim of the computer. And there, with several other boys, was James. Meant to be, I smiled to myself. I raised my knees up so I could hide while spying on him a little. The three boys with him began tossing aside T-shirts and shorts. I recognized the three others but knew only one a bit, a rather stocky Filipino boy named Nathan. The other three were down to their speedos in no time. James merely took off his shirt and proceeded to dive into the pool, ugly shorts and all. He surfaced grinning his big toothy smile, water glistening in his hair like diamonds. For the next few minutes I watched him and his friends frolic, dunk each other a bit, and then have a vigorous chicken fight, shouting with laughter the whole time. James sat astride one somewhat burlier friend's shoulders as Nathan did with the fourth boy, and, fingers laced tightly in each other's fingers, they tried to shove and yank each other off into the water. I watched James' glistening black body twist and strain with effort and, as stomach clenched and biceps knotted, I had to admit that, yes, though not a hot body by Young Lovers standards, his was attractive. Nathan's was too, for that matter. I must have watched James play with his friends in the water for another half hour. He was having a great time. Bad news? Evan had seemed to agree that James was bad news. But I didn't see it. I saw a regular nice kid having fun with his friends. Period. Was there some darkness inside him that was completely hidden from view? Kind of hard to believe, as I watched the laughing, playful boy cavort in the water. I remembered how badly Evan had misjudged Parker. Maybe his starchy reactions to boys' personalities wasn't always to be trusted. Soon after James arrived plenty of other more boys began entering the enclosure, more beautiful ones, but for some reason I was locked in on James. As I admired his glistening, coal-black body I suddenly realized something. I wanted him. Bad. And I decided: that night I would make my move. I had no idea what that move would be, but no matter -- I would make it. ****************************** My chance did come that evening, late. Five of us were hanging around the apartment not really doing much. Joon sat crosswise in one of the living room easy chairs with a book of Flannery O'Connor stories in his lap, but I knew he wasn't really that engaged -- whenever he wanted to concentrate he would read in the bedroom where he could have more quiet. Parker and Johnny and I were playing cards. James was stretched out on the couch sketching. Johnny won the third hand in a row, and I tossed in my cards in disgust. The kid always seemed to win any card game involving skill more than luck. I've always thought of myself as a fairly smart card player -- I'm pretty quick calculating odds and maneuvering strategically -- but I had to admit that sometimes Johnny was ahead of me. Over time his intelligence had become more and more obvious. I seemed to remember one time early on Joon had asserted emphatically that Johnny was as smart as he had been at his age, which at the time I'd found hard to believe. I was beginning to believe it now. Parker gave a big stretch and then leaned back in his chair so he could see what James was working on. I watched him watch James' hand move over his drawing pad. "Man, I wish I had your talent," Parker said, shaking his head. "Maybe you do," James answered. "I don't think so. I never really did good in art. It's one of those classes I felt sort of dumb in -- like retarded or something. It was embarrassing to see how my projects always looked compared to other kids. It seems like so many people can sketch really well. And cartoons and stuff. None of them are as good as you though." James stopped and looked at Parker a second. Then he flipped over the page on his pad to a new one. Then he held out the pad and his pencil to Parker. "You try. It's not as hard as you think." "Me?" "Yeah, sure." James sat up. "Here, come sit next to me and I'll help you." Parker looked at James and blinked several times. Then he got up at plopped down next to him. "OK, what do I do?" James extended the pad so it lay on both their laps. He handed Parker the pencil. "You hold the pencil but I'll move your hand." With that James clasped the back of Parker's hand as he held the pencil, and scooted closer. ""What'll we draw?" Parker asked. "I dunno. Something with an interesting shape. That's usually a good place to start." Parker looked around the room a minute. Johnny popped to his feet and raised his fists in the air. "Draw me! I got a innersting shape!" "Too complicated," James said with a grin. He turned to Parker. "Maybe just one of his features. Like his arm, maybe? Or his foot?" "I know!" Johnny cried, and with a gleeful giggle he shoved down his shorts, kicked them off, and with hands on hips shoved his cock forward for all to see. Parker gave a little chuckle. "Well, yeah, that's interesting!" He turned to James. "Can we draw it? His, uh, penis?" James shrugged assent, with a smile. "Come closer," he motioned to Johnny. "Sit on the edge of the table so we can get a good look!" Johnny plopped down on the coffee table, which looked plenty sturdy enough, and Parker and James began their two-man sketch project from about three feet away. The project seemed to go well for a couple of minutes but then a problem arose. Literally. "We can't draw it if it keeps getting harder!" James complained. "It looks totally different now!" "I can' help it!" Johnny protested, his big organ waving in front of him, almost completely hard. "It's no good!" James said, dropping his hand and sitting back. "You're fired as our model. You're too horny!" "You can draw it this way!" Johnny protested. "We already got a good start. Parker's got it going good. We need to keep going with a soft one." There was silence in the room. I got up from my chair and began stripping. The room erupted. "Oh no!" "Ooooooh!" "We're in trouble now!" More cries greeted the appearance of my cock as I tossed my clothes aside. Even Joon contributed. "He'll never keep it soft either. He hasn't fucked James yet." I ignored him, although I flicked a glance at James and thought I saw something uncomfortable pass over his face for just a fraction of a second. I strode over to where Johnny was, gave him a playful shove, and sat on the table's edge. "Move aside, junior, let the real model have some room!" At that moment the front door swung open and Byron entered the room, stopped and stared wide-eyed at the odd scene in front of him. "What the fuck . . .?" he muttered. "Parker having a drawing lesson!" Johnny explained, looking around a bit uncomfortably. Byron shook his head, managing to look both bemused and a little disgusted. He looked at Joon. "I'm workin' out. You comin'?" "Kinda late," Joon replied. "Nobody'll be there." "Can I come too?" Johnny asked. "If you can get your dick down enough to fit into some shorts," Byron replied with a sour look. I had come to realize that, for all his personal sexual eccentricities and his bad boy past Byron actually had an unexpected conservative streak that showed from time to time. Joon and Johnny got up and headed to the bedroom and soon reappeared in shorts, tank tops and sneakers. "Let's go," said Joon. He paused at the door, turned, and gave me an accusatory look. "What!?" I grinned, knowing perfectly well what that look meant. It followed up his comment about me not having had sex with James yet. He knew me so well. I decided to have a little fun with him. "Take your time!" I cried, giving him a meaningful grin. "I may be up kinda late!" Joon scowled and slammed the door behind him. The two remaining boys looked at me. "Seeks like he's always mad, huh?" Parker commented. "Why is he like that?" "He's an emotional guy, Parker. He gets real jealous real quick." "Jealous?" Parker looked around baffled. "Why's he jealous?" I grinned and said nothing. Then James stunned me. "I know why," he said firmly, looking straight at me, unsmiling. I was speechless. James sat up straighter and took Parker's hand again. "OK, we can work with this one." He and Parker began moving the pencil together. "It's actually similar proportions, just smaller." I smiled to myself, wondering if this was a little jibe. His tone had been so matter-of-fact, maybe not. After all, he'd only spoken the truth. James and Parker reabsorbed themselves in their drawing, and as I leaned back on my hands, staying as motionless as possible, I was left to wonder if James was on to me. Why would he be? I had never come on to him, never even flirted. Well, maybe a tiny bit, just once. I'd been nothing but nice and friendly to him. But his accusatory "I know why," coupled with his avoidant behavior around me, made me think maybe he believed I had designs on him sexually. Which I had in fact decided I did, if he gave me an opening. But how could he know that? Had I acquired some sort of reputation I was unaware of? Had Joon in his jealousy poisoned him against me? The two of them certainly had spent plenty of time together lately. Maybe in the middle of talking about existentialism and surrealist art they had also discussed my sexual habits. The two boys continued to draw for quite awhile. "Hey!" cried Parker finally, stopping and looking quizzically at James. "You let go!" "I've been doing less and less for the last five minutes. You're doing really good on your own. I mostly just rested my hand on yours. Just a few more finishing touches and it's done." James sat back on the couch. "Really?" asked Parker with a gulp. "Finish it!" smiled James. "Um -- OK." With that Parker worked carefully for a couple more minutes, then stopped, sat back and examined his work critically. "It just needs a little more shading there at the base," James commented. "That's it . . . not too much . . . yeah, good." "Let's see,"I said, getting up and standing next to Parker. "Wow, that's really good!" I exclaimed. The drawing was hardly professional, but I had to admit, it was a helluva lot better than I could have done. Parker looked up with his baffled grin. "It kinda is, huh? James did a lot, though!" "Not really. I just got you started. If you practiced I think you could be an artist!" "Maybe you should try one by yourself," I suggested. "Me? Um--OK." He turned to James. "Would it be OK to use your pad?" James hesitated just a fraction. "Sure, I guess." `"What should I draw?" There was a pause. "Why don't we see if James has -- an interesting shape?" I suggested. I allowed my voice to be soft and a bit insinuating. James looked at me and swallowed. "I don't think so," he finally said. "I don't think I could draw a person's whole body," said Parker, oblivious to what was going on between me and James beneath the surface of the little art lesson. "Maybe just like a hand, or--" "Hands are actually pretty hard," James said. "You should--" "Or a cock." I kept staring at James. There was silence. "I don't--I mean, would that be OK, James?" Parker asked with a gulp. James turned to him. "You're saying you want to draw my dick?" Parker gulped again. "Well, I already got some practice. If I did, you know, a penis it might be easier than drawing, like, a whole new part." James looked balefully at me, but there was a defiant little jut of his chin. "Fine!" he exclaimed, and with that he stood, unfastened his shorts and dropped them and his briefs to the floor and stepped out of them, kicking off his flip flops as he did so. He looked up at me as I checked out his average sized cock. "Happy?" he said evenly. I decided to take a different tack. "Sexy boys with hot cocks always make me happy," I replied, meeting his accusatory gaze unflinchingly. Pursing his lips James ignored this comment, instead seating himself where I had been sitting. As he leaned back on his arms, cock and balls exposed, it was almost as if he were offering himself up.. To me one of the sexiest looks a boy can have is when he has just a shirt or T-shirt on but is naked below the waist. The tail of James' white T-shirt lay on his coal black skin just a couple inches above the top of his pubic bush. As he leaned back a bit more his narrow belly showed a little definition. I could feel my mouth going dry looking at him. I could almost feel my tongue trailing slowly, tenderly over the voluptuous little bulge of his outie navel. As if in response to my silent admiration of him James' cock began to thicken and stir. Parker hesitantly began to draw. After a minute he stopped. "You're, um . . . you're getting an erection," Parker commented. All eyes were on James' erecting five or six inches. "I know, I haven't had sex in a really long time," he murmured. "Hang on a minute." With that did one of the most surprising things I've ever seen a boy do sexually. Pulling his legs up into a crosslegged position he closed his eyes, took a deep breath and exhaled. Then he sat very straight and very still on the table. After perhaps a half minute his erection was gone. His cock hadn't shrunk to the flaccid three inches it had been when he first stripped his shorts off, but it was an inch or more smaller than it had been just a half minute before, and it dangled downward now instead of pointing up at his face. He opened his eyes. "OK." "How'd you do that?" exclaimed Parker. James smiled. "It's not that hard. Kind of like drawing." "It seems hard to do," Parker said. "That's not my only trick," grinned James, wiggling his eyebrows charmingly. "I want to know how you do it!" exclaimed Parker. "I don't want to know how you do it," I said softly. They both looked at me. "I want to know how a boy like you, with a beautiful smile and a sexy vibe, not to mention a nice personality and a fine brain, has gone a long time without sex! In a place like this!" The boy appraised me for a silent few seconds. Then he shrugged. "Everybody hits a dry spell, I guess." I knew he was avoiding the truth. I decided not to push it, and remained silent. "You gonna, um, show us your other trick?" Parker asked, tugging absently at his tight-packed crotch. James shrugged, then gestured to the drawing pad. "Keep going." For another few minutes the room was quiet, as Parker worked on his drawing., I noticed he had a cute habit of gnawing his upper lip when he concentrated. I also noticed him absently digging at the crotch of his gym shorts from time to time as he drew. Eventually it became obvious that he had an erection. This was not really unusual -- Parker seemed to be at least halfway hard most of the time. Sure enough, in another minute Parker stopped drawing, sat back and made an exasperated noise. "What's the matter?" I asked, knowing perfectly well what it was. "I'm, uh -- well, you know, I have an erection," Parker mumbled. "No kidding," I replied with a smile. "Looks like you've got a salami in there!" "Yeah," he muttered, looking acutely uncomfortable, as only Parker could. "Nothing to be embarrassed about, man!" I cried. "I've told you a million times -- be proud of that big beautiful cock! Go ahead, get it out and give it some air! You're the only one of us who's still imprisoned!" I turned to James as Parker began stripping. "You seen that cock of his? It's a real beauty." "I've slept here a bunch of times," James pointed out, with just a slight trace of disdain in his voice. Irritated, I nonetheless gazed calmly at him. "Sometimes a question is a way of paying someone else a compliment." The boy stared at me and then swallowed a bit guiltily. I had learned through my ups and downs with Joon that it seemed like really smart boys in particular often need to be put in their place sometimes. James' gaze lingered on me a bit. There was something new in his expression. Parker sat back down, his raging pink cock surging up from his fiery pubes. A blue vein twisting up from his balls, disappearing into the shaft just below the glans, held my gaze. I gave my own rock hard erection a squeeze. "God you're hot, Parker," I said, with sincere admiration. "But can you still draw with that . . . " Parker was silent, staring at James. The black boy's cock was hard again. We all looked at each other another silent moment. Though I was hot for Parker and even hotter for James, I was going to let these two boys decide what happened next. "Can I . . . um . . . I mean, I wanna, um . . . " Parker looked as longingly at James' cock as a little kid looks into an ice cream store window on a hot day. "You wanna see my other trick?" James asked a bit hoarsely, now gently caressing his balls in their small, dangling sack. "Um, OK," Parker replied, his voice soft and shaky. "But can I--" He reached out for James' cock. The black boy pushed his hand away. "No. Just watch," James replied. "Um, OK," said Parker in a chastened voice. He sat back a little on the couch, squeezing his own dick, licking his lips, and trying to calm down. Then James began to masturbate. I was quickly mesmerized, watching the strange, delicate motion of his hand, so fluid and graceful, the long artistic fingers playing up and down his engorged shaft almost as if he were playing a musical instrument. There was no urgency about him at all. His body was relaxed, his face calm, his hand moving in slow, steady rhythm. His gaze was unfocused, almost as if he wasn't even aware of us or the room. I looked at Parker -- he was practically drooling, and he was relentlessly squeezing and stroking his cock. A couple of minutes went by. The only sign that anything at all was happening with James was when his belly or thighs would momentarily tense and relax. His beautiful black skin had a kind of soft glow about it now -- he wasn't quite sweating, but he was close. His hand continued its languorous but steady movement. I couldn't believe that I hadn't seen how hot this boy was before. I wanted him in the worst way, But there was something about how decisively he had pushed Parker's hand away. I just had a feeling I needed to back off. On impulse I got up and sat on the couch next to Parker. I encircled his shoulders with one arm and with my other hand I gently pushed his hand off his cock and replaced it with my own. He turned to look at me and I gently pressed my lips to his as I tightened my grip on his cock. The boy plunged his tongue into my mouth and, twisting, pressed his body against me enthusiastically. I caressed his russet locks as they fell damply against his neck, and squirmed my tongue against his while slowly masturbating him. After a minute I broke our kiss. "Let's watch the show," I reminded him. The two of us reclined on the couch then, me still embracing and casually masturbating Parker, as our eyes returned to James. There was sweat now beading his upper lip, but his expression was still serene as he jacked off. He hadn't sped up at all, although he had to be feeling some urgency by now. His cock looked a bit bigger and harder than before, a good 5 1/2 inches, with a glans that was quite pink and a shaft that was a contrasting charcoal black. I longed to replace Jams' elegant hand with my lips and tongue, to lick and nibble and caress the delicate skin encasing that fiery shaft. There was a glistening bead at the opening of his cock now. Another couple of twisting flicks of James' wrist and it was gone, making one side of his cockhead shiny. "Gosh," Parker muttered. "He's hot, isn't he?" I murmured, for James' benefit, of course. "Man," was all Parker could say. "What do you want to do with him Parker?" I breathed. "If you could do anything? Anything at all? And he'd be totally into it!" "Oh God! I'd -- I'd let him to come over here right now and -- and put it in me! Oh man, I . . ." "You want him to fuck you, don't you?" "Oh God!" I went on, not taking my eyes of the splitting hard black cock, the nimble, caressing fingers. "You can almost feel it, can't you? You can almost feel that hot hard cock of James' plunging deep inside you, filling you up--" "AH!" came a sharp cry from James. He was suddenly there. The boy tore his hand away from his cock, thrust his hips up off the table, and then, with another gasp, he shot a bolt of semen up into the air, and then -- hands gripping the table edge like a vice, teeth gritted, panting, holding his body absolutely rigid and still -- James stopped his ejaculation in the middle. And the boy was not done. "Tell me when!" he gasped, straining with effort. Parker was speechless. I paused, waiting a few seconds. "Now!" I cried, and instantly the boy shot another, larger bolt of cream out and onto his thigh. And still he clenched the table, held himself rigid, clenched his teeth. The muscles of his thigh twitched. "Now!" Parker shouted, and the boy snapped out another smaller wad, then gave a great groan, and sank back onto his elbows in exhaustion. The two of us silently watched a drool of cum begin to seep from his inflamed cockhead as it bobbed and then slowly sank onto his leg. Parker and I looked at each other wordlessly. The astonishment in his face was priceless.