Date: Sat, 16 Jul 2016 21:26:12 -0500 (CDT)
From: rbrbrb163@verizon.net
Subject: Academy RB Chapter 10

RB 10

The disclaimers: This story is entirely fictional. Any resemblance to any
real people is completely coincidental. This is not the real world we live
in and the author in no way condones nor encourages acts which mirror the
practices described in this entirely fictional story. Please remember to
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I asked myself: Why was Ron so insistent that I think about this decision
so carefully. What else did I have? What else could I do? I've asked that
question before. Retail? No? Barrista? No. Crime? No.

Would it have an inalterable effect on my future? No, if I did things
right. I had to be careful about my identity so I am not branded as a rent
boy for the rest of my life. Don't want anything everlasting. Those people
who put tattoos all over their bodies from head to toe. . . they are making
that kind of never-go-back decisions.

If I aspired to be President or the head of some big company, this career
would probably not be a good idea. But, really, President Tim? I don't
think so.

So I would have to guard my identity. I might want a mate for life and I
probably would not want him to know I was a rent boy.

Other than that, what was I missing? This felt like such a no brainer.
Basically a free higher education in sex. Free room and board for several
weeks. A hell of a lot of sex with unbelievable men. I thought about
talking to Brandon about it. But was embarrassed to do this. I felt I might
be stupid for not knowing what I should know. It is probably something
looking me right in the face.

Who could I talk to? I am so alone, I thought.

I wondered whether I needed this academy, anyway. I got what it took. Cute,
great body, sexually creative. What did I need from Ron and his peeps?

Well this was something knowable. I could try a few tricks on my own. Hmm,
good idea, Tim. And that started a stream of bad ideas. Where to start? I
put an ad in Craigslist. I struggled with the 60 words as if I was writing
the bible.

Cute, of age (just barely), hot boy looking for nice and generous older men
who are looking for a relaxing and sensual massage or just some company,
someone to talk to. Brown hair, nice twinky body, great ass who needs
experience from someone of older. Everything safe. Anyone who is under 30
need not apply, nor flakes or non-generous men. You host. Texts and calls
only.

I held onto the draft until the next morning. I was generally happy with it
but I made some changes to make it shorter.

Cute, of age (but just barely), hot boy looking for nice, and generous
older man men who are looking for a relaxing, and sensual massage or just
some company, someone to talk to cuddle with. Brown hair, nice twinky body,
great ass which needs experience from someone of older. Everything
safe. Anyone who is under 30 need not apply. Same for flakes or men who are
not generous. You host. Texts and calls only.

I was happy with it and placed it on craigslist. Just as I was finished,
Brandon came into my room. "What are you doing?"  he asked.

"Homework."

"What class?"

"American classic literature. We have to write an essay sketching in an
additional character into Hucklebury Finn. Kind a weird but kind of fun,
too."

"Sounds interesting. What have you been thinking about the academy?"

"I dunno," I lied. "I wrote to Ron saying I would get back to him in about
a week. I hope that's OK."

"Yeah, it's fine. He told me."

"What did he say?"

"He was happy you were thinking about it carefully, but he really hopes you
get with the program. He's a big fan. And it sounds like there's a guy
there who is all depressed about you leaving. He was quite smitten with
you."

"Yeah, Bo. Boris is his real name. He was one of the Eastern European
guys. I had dinner with them and then afterwards a cross between dessert
and homework."

Brandon laughed. "Yeah I had something like that when I was auditioning. It
was Italian and French boys, two of them. It was very hot."

I told him about how the others shunned the Eastern European guys."It was
really mean, I would feel sorry for them except for two things. They have
each other. They have bonded like crazy glue. And Ron told me how well they
are advancing in the program."

"They are probably jealous. The Eastern European boys are among the best in
the business. It's no surprise that there's a big market for them in
illegal trafficking. These guys are lucky to be at the Academy.

"Interesting. Maybe I could do my paper on sex trafficking for my AP
political science course."

"Hmm. I'll let you get back to it. I am exhausted. I had two back-to-back
threesomes, younger guys one of the jobs. They are so frisky."  "Were they
good looking?"

"They were OK. There was a tall one who was very well built."

# # #

I couldn't sleep thinking about what I had done, bouncing back and forth
from fear that it was really stupid and stimulated about the idea of having
my first job as a rent boy. I jerked off three times. I also found it hard
to concentrate at school the next day because of little sleep and
anticipating what would be in my new email address. I purposely did not
open the emails because I was concerned that I would skip school to take my
first job. Red eyed, I was proud of myself for being such a good student.

I practically ran to the Starbucks near school, though, and it wasn't to
work on my calculus. I had 32 new emails on a new email address I set up
on, you guessed it, hotmail.com.

I deleted most of them for different varieties of weirdness.  Like this:

You are my pussy boy. You will be mine. Sound good? I am 1) generous 2) a
great teacher, 3) very sexy, and 4) did I say generous. Early retired
wannabe Daddy looking for his son. Let's talk on the phone and then meet,
and then . . . Heh, did I mention I was generous.

That was just weird, but there were some that were unabashedly scary. But
it didn't all scare me. Except for the whiny story of a recent break up
which was supposed to make me feel charitable towards him, this one was the
one I final decided to try.

Your ad was refreshing in what is a wasteland of terrible. I am 40ish
(really), and actually 42. I just broke up with my first lover since I came
out about 12 years ago. He cheated on me and it really broke me. I can't
date again, just yet, but I am lonely and horny. Trust me, I am not a
psycho killer and I am not so ugly I turn human beings into stone. The
cuddling part sounds good to start, and who knows after that. Not hugely
wealthy, but what I have I share with those special to me and those who do
nice things for me. Love it we could talk.

He didn't sound like a psycho killer on the phone, either. Kind of gentle
and nice actually.

Me: Hi, this is T. . .  Michael. You responded to my personal listing on
Craigs.

Him: Oh, hi. Wait a second, I need to go into my office to talk. (Noise of
scuffling and a closed door.) Hi, Michael, or T. Michael, is it.

Me: It's Michael. So you are not a psycho killer? For sure?

Him: No, I am reformed. Only kidding. My name is Scott. I told you some of
my story. Sorry to have told you about my break-up. It was more than a year
ago. It was pretty pathetic I thought as I pushed send.I live about 20
minutes from town. I am a lawyer, but don't let that go against me.

Me: This isn't a contest or American Idol or anything. Just a date. (That
might sound harsh. I used a nice voice.)

Him: Funny. OK. So what's the arrangement?

Me: Gotta meet at your place or a hotel or something. I don't have a
place. It's $200 for an hour of my time. Anything above the ordinary is
more, like fucking me or tying you up. Gotta be safe.

Him: OK, sounds good.

Me: Are you sure you're not a psycho killer?

Him: I don't think so.

Me: I'll take that as a no. When would you like to see me? It has to be
after 4. I am still in school.

Him: School? How old are you?

Me: Don't worry. 18. Legal.

I got his address and everything, which was somewhat between where Brandon
lived and my old house. It made me feel good that it was 1) familiar and 2)
a good neighborhood. It was to be the next night

# # #

The next night came slowly and I took an uber out to Scott's house. It was
a nice house. Competely dark, though. I texted him when the driver let me
out. I did a once over in the car's window. I was wearing the same outfit I
wore for my audition. I looked pretty good. This time, however, I didn't
have a hard on. I had no idea to expect.

Rather than answer the text, he opened the door and looked out. He waved
weakly, kind of like Queen Elizabeth. I approached the door. He really did
look like he was 42. He was taller than me, wearing loose jeans and a
bright white t-shirt. He held out his hand to shake mine. When the door was
closed I pulled him to me to embrace him and kiss his cheek. I held on and
could feel that he has a semi-hard on.

He directed me into the living room which had a spacious white couch. I
asked him for a glass of water and he went away to get it.

He handed me the glass and sat next to me, not very close. "Have you had a
good day," I asked.

"Yes, I guess. I was very nervous about this. So I didn't get much work
done."

I moved closer to him and try to assure him. "Don't be nervous. Look at
me. A little twink. What am I going to do to you? The worst that can happen
is that we have a nice conversation." I pulled him closer and kissed him on
the cheek again.

"I didn't think you guys kissed."

"We all do different things. If I like someone, I kiss them." I approached
him and kissed him on the lips opening his mouth with my prying tongue.

When the embrace broke, and he pulled away, I saw that his eyes were wet
with tears "I'm so sorry," he said, pleadingly. "I don't mean to cry. I
don't want to be doing this. But it's been so long."

"What don't you want to be doing?"

"Paying for sex."

"You don't. You are a very attractive man. Sexy, fit. Nice house. I imagine
a good job."

"I broke up with my lover of eight years a year ago. I just can't put
myself out there."

 What followed was an hour of not sex, but of psychotherapy, at least I
think what I was doing was what psychotherapy was. I cuddled next to him
and eventually put his head on my lap as he poured out his sad story to
me. When he seemed to be tapped out of sadness, he told me he was tired, so
tired.

"Close your eyes, lover." I caressed his nice head of hair and he fell
asleep. Yes, he actually fell asleep. If I tried to move to leave I would
have awoken him. I didn't know what to do."

# # #

"So what did you do," Brandon asked. I was back at his place. And like
Scott was exhausted. Tell the story was also exhausting.

"I continued to caress his head and then I moved my hands down to his neck
and then under his shirt. I lightly touched him all over his chest and
lightly played with his nipples. He stayed sleeping, snoring very gently,
almost like a cat purring."

"When I got down to his waist I felt he had a slight trail of hair leading
down and into his underwear. I love that. I think it's so sexy. It's like a
body saying, `heh, handsome follow me down this trail and the adventure
will be even better."  "And he was still sleeping," Brandon asked.

"Yes. And so I followed the trail. His jeans were very loose and I could
gently move my hand down into his underwear. With my other hand, I returned
to his nipple. I licked my fingers and massaged his nipples. The front of
his underpants were coated in pre cum and he was semi hard. I ran my
fingers up and down his cock. I milked the head of his cock which spilled
out more pre cum. I used that to play with his nips. He finally stirred and
rolled onto his back and I was able to slide out from under him.

"I could leave. I could wake him and ask for my money. Or I could do for
him what I was being paid to do. I got on my knees and in front of the
couch we were sitting on. I unzipped his jeans and licked the front of his
underwear, full of pre cum, getting his dick harder and harder. I freed his
cock from the underwear from their slit and licked the pre cum off the head
of his cock and then started to suck him. I took it all in my mouth. It was
not real big but it was pretty. Not too veiny or hairy. I moved my fingers
around him to his ass and played with his crack.

"He started to moan, and move, almost shaking, and he put his hand on my
head to control my sucking. I sucked him harder.

"He wasn't jarred or anything. He knew what was going on. I pressed my face
against the side of his head and whispered, `Do you want to fuck me?'

"'Would that be OK?"

"That would be more than OK."

"He moved on to the floor and took me by the hand. He pulled down his pants
and watched me strip all my clothes off. I was straddling his waist and
helped him take his shirt off. I then moved my ass over his face. I didn't
want to make him rim me if he didn't want to. But he did. After a few
minutes of this, I pulled a rubber from my pocket and put it on him while I
kissed him, full tongue, full French.

"I then pushed down on his dick and moved up and down and he was enjoying
it so much it looked like he was in pain. We changed position so he could
be on top and fucked me pretty hard, while he stroked me. I came. I
clenched my hole to give more friction and he yelled as he came."

"So what does all this mean to you? What are you going to do?"

"I don't know that I am cut out for it."

"Are you kidding? Are you fishing for complements, bitch."

"You told me about your sexual experience. And you got me turned on, and I
am a whore."

"But I was more a psychologist than a rent boy."

"Being a rent boy means being a psychologist sometimes. That's what
separates the great, the good and the mediocre. You left him happy, I
assume."

"I think so," I laughed.

We both went to our respective beds. I was stimulated by the day and
retelling the story to Brandon and that Brandon was horned up from the
story. After I washed up and brushed my teeth, I tiptoed outside his
bedroom and heard him moaning. I wish I could have helped him cum, but I
knew that would be wrong.

I had a lot to think about and Brandon helped me work through it. I did
handle my first real trick pretty well and I liked it. But I needed
guidance. Academy Rent Boy was right for me. I resolved to write Ron in the
morning,

My cock was hard from the excitement of the day and listening to Brandon
jerk off, apparently from my story. When I jerked off, my fantasies went
back and forth between Brandon and Scott. I slid a glass dildo into my ass
and stroked my dick until I exploded in 5 shots of cum.

Quite a day.




Like it? Hate it? Suggestions? rbrbrb163@verizon.net