Date: Fri, 10 May 2002 22:47:22 -0700 (PDT)
From: 13greengrass <13greengrass@ziplip.com>
Subject: Five Session with Francisco

	This story is purely fictional. Any similarities to actual people
and events is purely coincidental. It is written for the enjoyment of men
who love boys.


FIVE SESSIONS WITH FRANCISCO

	The beauty of Francisco is in his coolness.  He is suave and smooth
and calm with a strut and a subtle way of moving that makes him seem more
mature.  At thirteen years old, he looked his age but acted like sixteen,
in the way he stood, strong sturdy legs beneath him, dressed like the
hippest teenager in the galaxy.  I like a boy who acts like a boy, but
Francisco's beauty was ethereal.  He glowed and I always got a sense that
he was successfully exploiting his thirteen year-old body to appear more
mature, to seem older.  Francisco was half black and half Latino, and so
his skin was a light cocoa and his hair was kinky, cut very short against
his perfectly shaped head.  He had dark, nearly black, eyes, and a
white-toothed smile that made his whole face look bright.
	Francisco wasn't all beauty, though.  He was a bit cruel.  This I
know because I was a victim of his malice.  When I first spotted Francisco
in my neighborhood, I was infatuated on the spot and I smiled and said
hello in hopes of planting the seeds of a friendship, of getting closer to
his impeccable beauty.  Francisco, hanging out as the undisputed leader of
his buddies, jeered me and called me a faggot, and his friends laughed, not
because it was funny but because Francisco had said it.  I knew there was
something special about Francisco because some of the friends who followed
him in the neighborhood were older than he, and yet they acknowledged
Francisco's supremacy.  Francisco was the cock of the walk with a cool
demeanor and a sense of his own sex appeal that showed in the way he
moved--the confident, calm swagger, the strong jaw, the piercing eyes.
	Francisco and his friends usually called me a fag.  I wear braids
in my hair and earrings and, well, I am a fag.  While I abhorred their gang
mentality, and Francisco's basic cruelty toward me and others in the
neighborhood, I couldn't deny the raw beauty and handsomeness of Francisco,
and so I ignored his taunts, mostly done for the benefit of his friends.
"Suck my dick, you fuckin' faggot", he said to me once and my mind reeled
with the idea.  I smiled but didn't reply.
	Months of snide comments followed, and one day, I drove up and
parked outside my building and there was Francisco, standing alone against
the building, hanging out, looking as if he were waiting for someone.  I
wondered if he would taunt me without an audience.  As I got out of my car,
I smiled at him and nodded a hello.  He snickered and shook his head as if
he thought me pathetic.  As I walked by him toward my door, I waited for a
comment, but nothing came.  I smirked at him and gave an obviously
incredulous look at him.
	"Aren't you gonna say something?"  I asked boldly.  "Or do you only
perform for audiences?"
	He eyed me with some contempt and surprise at my provocation.
"Suck my dick, fuckin' faggot", he sneered.
	I thought twice, even three times before I made my reply, but I
made it anyway, directly at him with a suggestive look in my eye.  "Okay",
I said.  "Whip it out, little boy".
	He looked obviously surprised and was speechless at first.  Then he
puffed out his chest and stepped out from the wall.  "Kiss my ass".
	"You think a lot about sex, don't you?" I asked. "You keep telling
me to suck your cock.  Now you're telling me to kiss your ass." I smiled
warmly and dropped my voice to a murmur. "I like the way you think."
	Francisco's expression froze for about five seconds, then he smiled
and snorted. He shrugged and shook his head. "You're crazy, dude."
	I walked over to him. I was either going to get my ass kicked or I
was going to settle this thing once and for all. He didn't budge, but his
eyes warned me off. I stopped and spoke casually to him. I held my palms
out toward him and shrugged my shoulders. "I've been crazy since I first
saw you. Just between you and me"-I took a quick look around-"You're the
most gorgeous boy I've ever seen."
	Vanity, thy name is Francisco. I saw it immediately. His eyes just
glinted slightly and he tipped his hand. He took to my words like a bee to
sugar. He smiled shyly, then frowned, still smiling. "Shut up, dude," he
said quietly.  "You're fucking crazy". He covered his smile with his hand.
	I laughed, then dropped my voice. "Tell me to suck your cock one
more time, and I'll do it."
	He stopped smiling suddenly.
	"You know where I live, right?" I said. "Number 16?" I pointed
around the corner with my thumb. "So unless you're just all talk and no
action, stop hassling me for the entertainment of your friends."
	I turned and walked away, back toward my apartment.  "Fuckin'
faggot", he replied to my back, a loss for anything else to say.
	"Number 16," I said over my shoulder. I stopped and looked back at
him.  "And for God's sake, don't let anyone see you."
	Francisco looked slightly unhinged and I was happy to have cracked
that cool veneer.  He smiled nervously, closed his eyes, shook his head,
but then fixed me with a look that I was quite certain was hesitation, as
if he were really thinking about my offer.
	I turned and walked to my apartment. I unlocked the door and went
inside, leaving the front door open to let in the breeze through the screen
door. My cats meowed at me to feed them and I kicked off my shoes and
punched on the stereo. I dumped cat food into the bowls. My three cats
swarmed in for dinner and I stroked their backs gently.  That's when I
heard a rattle behind me, coming from the kitchen. I stepped into the
kitchen and heard the screen door rattle again.
	My mind leapt and darted through the idea of Francisco knocking on
the door. I actually thought it was possible for several moments as I
headed toward it. Francisco, ready to play, horny and hot, standing at the
door. I laughed to myself.
	At the door I found Francisco. He was just reaching up to rap his
knuckle again on the frame of the screen door. He was glancing around him
wildly, nervously, shifting from one foot to the other. I startled him when
he turned and saw me through the screen.
	I didn't say anything. I couldn't say anything. When your fantasy
suddenly comes true, you can't help thinking, "don't say or do anything.
You might fuck this up." But Francisco looked like he was panicking. He
grabbed the door handle and hopped inside, bumping into me in his rush to
get in. I staggered back and he stepped in a wide arc around me as if he
were trying to stay clear of me. He came to a stop farther in the kitchen,
out of view from the screen door. He looked like a fugitive from the law.
	There he was, plopped right down in my midst. He covered an awkward
smirk with his hand, pushing it into a scowl. He looked me straight in the
eyes, defiantly, and shuffled himself, like a deck of cards, back into the
cool street kid. His macho strut returned as he walked through the
apartment, surveying all he saw. He stopped and looked at me.
	"Well?" I said.
	He looked like he was about to speak, but then he seemed to chicken
out and smile and shake his head, closing his eyes, dropping his
chin. "You're one crazy mother fucker."
	"And?"
	He couldn't hide his embarrassment, his vulnerability, from me, but
he thought he was doing a good job of it. He smirked and sniffed, then
looked straight at me. "And..."
	"And what?"
	"Suck my dick."  We didn't talk much after that. I just led him
into the bedroom and sat on the bed.  Francisco looked around the room as
if he were looking for something to steal when he got the chance.  At the
same time, he was eyeing me nervously, cautiously.
	"Come here", I said softly.  He sauntered over to me coolly and
stood before me, hands at his sides, looking down at me.  I noticed a small
bulge in his basketball shorts.  He was already aroused at just the idea.
I reached out and touched the bump, fingering a small nicely shaped cock
through the shorts.  Francisco stood stock still, refusing to be moved,
maintaining his cool. "I like girls, ya know what I'm sayin'?" he erupted
suddenly.  "I know exactly what you're saying," I thought but didn't
say. "You mean you aren't ready to talk about your latent
homosexuality. Truth be told, I'm not either." Instead I shrugged and
whispered, "I know."  "I'm just fuckin' horny," he added.  "Me too."  I
took a hold of his shorts on both sides and pulled them down slowly.
Francisco shifted on his feet slightly, uncomfortable but helping me drop
his shorts to his ankles.  His salmon-colored boxers were tenting out
beneath the hem of his basketball jersey.  I stood up and pulled the jersey
off over his head. For a moment we were nearly nose-to-nose and he had to
look away. I was so close that his cock was pressing against my thigh. I
sat back down and looked at him. He looked at the lump in his shorts as if
he had no idea what it was.
	I eased his boxers down as well and they bunched at his ankles.
Unveiling his body was the coming true of countless fantasies I had had
since I first laid eyes on him.  His skin was smooth and there were only a
few small hairs sprouting above his cock.  I was happy to see that under
all that bravado and the tough-guy exterior, Francisco was every inch a
thirteen year old boy-- hairless, slender, but well-toned with a
well-developed chest and torso and strong, straight legs.  I ran my hands
up and down his sides, over his thighs, up to his ass.  Surprisingly,
Francisco was submissive to my ministrations and when I looked up into his
eyes, I saw they were a little softer. When he saw me looking, he closed
his eyes.
	I stood up and told Francisco to sit on the bed.  He did so and
laid back on his elbows, looking at his own body, his small cock rising
proudly from his sleek thighs.  I pulled his shorts and boxers off over his
sneakers and knelt between those marvelous thighs, stroking his nut sac
with my fingers, pulling on his scrotum gently.  I had a theory about
Francisco and I wanted to test it out.  I ran my tongue up the inside of
his thigh first.  Francisco shivered.  I nudged his thighs apart, tonguing
my way down and inside, up toward the wrinkly ball sac.  Francisco sighed
heavily and looked down at me as if he couldn't believe that I could make
him feel this way with just my tongue on his thigh.  He spread his legs,
slightly at first, but as my tongue continued to explore, he spread them
wide.  There he was, the tough boy of the neighborhood, naked and flat on
his back, legs open and cock throbbing. He was breathing a little faster.
My tongue lapped at his balls and he watched me, his mouth slightly open,
eyes swimming with bewilderment.  Then I moved up and engulfed his little
cock in my mouth, all at once, and Francisco closed his eyes and his head
plopped back onto the bed.  I sucked on him greedily as he growled deep in
his throat, panting suddenly as if he had been dropped in freezing cold
water.  I sucked and sucked, priming him for my test, a hypothesis
forwarded, that required Francisco to be enflamed with passion.  It was
working.  Francisco gasped on the bed, grunting with every thrust.  I let
his slippery dick pop from my mouth and I sucked on his nuts, laving them
with my tongue.  Gradually, subtly, as I moved back up to Francisco's
rampant tool, I pushed his legs up and apart, bent at the knees.  I bobbed
on his knob. He was lost in excitement. He submitted to my manipulations of
his legs without even realizing it; let me push them up so that his knees
were on his chest. His hands grabbed the back of my head and he thrust his
hips back and forth into my mouth. It was as if he didn't notice that his
anus was now exposed. It was as if he had surrendered it to me, to the
overwhelming sensation that was racking his young body.  I released his
cock from my mouth and moved down to his balls again, nearing my target
slowly, patiently, cautiously.  Francisco remained compliant.  Then I made
my move.
	I trailed my tongue down his perineum, down to his asshole, and I
flicked my tongue against the hole. He held his breath suddenly and I
quickly lapped at his anus, poking my tongue into it, pushing Francisco's
legs up further to give me access.  He groaned and said something that I
didn't understand.  I continued to lick him there, worming my tongue
inside.  He gasped.
	"Don't...," he panted, but he didn't resist.  In fact, he remained
relaxed and compliant.  He didn't seem the type of boy who wouldn't fight
something he didn't want so I ignored his command and continued lapping at
his butt.  "Don't, man....don't...."  He made a weak attempt at
straightening his legs out, then another, then he relaxed again, as if
agreeing to accept just a few more laps of my tongue before refusing any
more.  I knew right then that there was a secret way to Francisco, and it
was straight up his ass.
	"Stop it", he said, a little more forcefully, but still without
conviction, as if he were obliged to say no when he actually meant yes.  He
still didn't straighten his legs, but he pushed my head away from his ass
with his hands and I moved back up to his cock.  I had just sucked it into
my mouth when it erupted, and the sperm, two small gobs, shot out onto my
tongue.  He bucked his hips wildly for a while, then suddenly stopped and
lie still on the bed.  His cock grew soft in my mouth as I watched him lay
there, eyes closed, his breathing slowing, his lips slightly parted.
	Francisco sat up and his dick slipped from my mouth.  He was back
to his cool self immediately, but I knew something about Francisco from
that moment on and he seemed to see it in my eyes because he couldn't look
at me.  He got up and pulled on his clothes and I sat on the bed and
watched him dress.  He was suddenly in an awful hurry.
	"You tell anyone and I'll fuckin' kill you, man", he grunted.
	"The same goes for you", I responded, and Francisco gave me a hard
look.
	He was dressed and moving toward the door in an instant and I
followed him, mainly to make sure that he didn't steal anything on the way
out, but also to say something.  "Drop by again, Francisco", I said.  He
jerked his head to look at me, wondering if I was serious or chiding him,
and I smiled warmly at him.  It was disarming to this little ruffian, but
his look softened for just a second, before he snorted and turned and left.
	Seeing Francisco on the street the next day was different than it
had been before.  He sneered and said something to his friends that I
couldn't hear, then they looked over at me and laughed, but he looked at me
uneasily as soon as they did, and my smile made him look away and change
the subject.  I didn't know for sure if Francisco would ever come back for
more, but I had a hunch he might.  I believed I had Francisco's number.  A
day passed before the buzzer sounded and I pressed the intercom button and
asked who it was.
	"Francisco", came the near whisper.  I wouldn't have understood it
had I not half expected it.  I buzzed him up and he appeared at my door,
glancing around and ducking inside like a spy.  Standing in my kitchen in
those same basketball clothes, he just looked at me as if I were expected
to do all the rest.  I smiled at him and decided to play with him.
	"What's up?" I asked brightly.
	Francisco looked pained and he looked down at his sneaker and
scuffed the floor nervously.  "Ya know...." he started.  "I mean...ya
know....."  He looked at me and his eyes implored me to go easy on him,
don't make him say anymore.
	"What?" I asked.
	He snorted a laugh and shifted his weight from one foot to the
other. "Ya wanna...ya know...."
	I resisted the temptation to toy with him.  I wanted to make the
process of getting him naked, hard and spread on the bed as easy as
possible because I wanted him to come back often.  I had plans for him.  I
cocked a finger toward the bedroom.  "Come on".
	And so it was that a system was begun.  Francisco showed up about
every other day, stealing into my apartment like a thief in the night,
standing and nodding and smiling awkwardly.  I would lead him into the
bedroom and pull down his pants and he would be hard.  In fact, most of the
time, Francisco was hard and adjusting himself upon stepping into my
apartment.  And I began a methodical process toward Francisco's asshole.
On our second session, I waited for him to get hot as I sucked his cock,
and when he was willing and compliant, I pushed his legs up and tongued his
ass again.  This time he didn't complain and I knew that it was in fact why
he had returned.  I even probed his anus with a wet finger as I sucked, and
Francisco lay passive and relaxed.  On the third session, I inserted a
single digit, all the time sucking Francisco's joystick, making him writhe
on the bed.  When he felt my finger there, he tightened slightly and I had
to stop, just inside, until he relaxed and I pushed a little farther in.
	"No...." he gasped, but his body language was betraying him.  He
was resisting the idea that he would like his ass played with, but he
couldn't resist the sensation, and when he approached his orgasm, I shoved
my finger in even farther and wiggled it against his prostate.  He yelped,
gasped and growled all at once and shot his load into my mouth.
Afterwards, he said nothing about the intrusive finger, but he left
quickly.
	In the neighborhood, Francisco and his friends seemed to no longer
notice me.  Francisco ignored me and the boys he hung out with didn't seem
to notice.  I came and went unharrassed.  Francisco showed up for our
fourth session a day later, adjusting himself with his hands in his
pockets, trying in vain to tame his wild cock.  He walked in and said hello
and told me about his basketball team at school winning a game that they
were expected to lose. I offered him lemonade and he accepted, and we went
into the bedroom.  When his cock was in my mouth, and his anus was dripping
and glistening with my spittle, I got a single finger all the way up his
ass and slid it in and out to the strokes of my mouth.  Francisco willingly
held his knees up, huffing and panting.  He winced in pain when I tried a
second finger, but didn't even bother telling me to stop.  He shot a load
into my mouth that was bigger than usual, and this time, when the orgasm
was done, he looked down at me with his cock still in my mouth and favored
me with his first genuine smile.  I smiled back.  As he dressed, he told me
about a girl at school who kept leaving him love notes, a secret admirer
who didn't know that he knew who she was.
	On our fifth session, Francisco walked in cockily and showed me a
picture he had drawn--a muscle-bound superhero in costume.  He was
prattling like a real little boy as he followed me to the bedroom, bragging
about how many points he had made in his basketball game, so busy with his
talking that I wondered if he even wanted to proceed as usual.  Still
talking, he plopped onto the bed and stretched his arms above his head.  I
undid my pants and dropped them to the floor and he suddenly stopped
talking, looking at me questioningly.
	"What're you doin'?" he asked curiously.  He didn't seem offended.
I pulled my shirt off over my head and dropped it on the floor, stepping
out of my pants.  "I want to get naked this time, if you don't' mind," I
said, not waiting for his approval.
	"Why?"  He sounded uncertain, as if he were worried that I wanted
to take this into a more involved direction.  Of course that was exactly
what I wanted to do.  I dropped my boxers to the floor and he stared
blatantly at my hard on.
	"I want to get off too", I said.  "Francisco, you're so hot that I
can't help it.  You have the body of a god!"  I reached down to him on the
bed and tugged at his shorts. He hesitated, not lifting his hips to help
me.  His eyes were fixed on my cock and the bulge in his shorts was growing
perceptibly.  "You have a perfect body, man," I said huskily.  "It drives
me crazy.  I've seen millions of boys in my life, Francisco, but you are
the sexiest of them all".
	Oh, flattery.  It was true but it was flattery and it achieved its
desired affects.  Francisco shoved his hips up toward me and smiled shyly,
blushing as I pulled down his shorts and boxers with one tug.  His little
cock, hard and sassy, smacked against his belly and his eyes fixed on mine
as I looked down at his naked body, waiting for my appreciation.  It came
naturally to me.  I cooed to him how beautiful he was as I dropped his
shorts on the floor.  I pushed his jersey up to expose his torso and he
smiled as I stroked a nipple and called him a little god and marveled at
how every girl in the world will fall in love with him.  He acted as if he
thought it all silly, but he let me pull his jersey off completely and lay
there in nothing but his socks and high tops, his legs open, his tiny
nipples hard, his smile contagious as he looked down at his own body,
watching my fingers trail from his collarbone to his cock.
	We had taken a giant step forward, and I set to work on his cock
with my lips, laving his whole crotch with my tongue, covering his dick and
balls and the inside of this thighs with glistening saliva.  There was
something in the air that suggested that we were in new territory and I
think Francisco felt it.  We were both naked, but also there was something
in the way I pushed his legs up, his knees nearly at his ears.  It was more
forceful, more lustful, and Francisco looked as if he were on a ride at the
fair, trusting but slightly nervous, thrilled but apprehensive.  His eyes
watched me as I ate his ass, more aggressively than usual, and he growled
deeper than before, letting pretty words and sounds slip from his lips,
stuttering with gasps and pants.  "Oh, yeah.  Oh wow, that's fuckin'
crazy!"  I'd licked him there several times before, but there was something
different in the air and the excitement in the room began to rise.
	I plunged back onto his cock and sucked while I inserted a single
finger into his anus.  It slid in rather easily.  Francisco was becoming
quite good at relaxing his sphincter and allowing simple penetration.  Two
fingers caused some pain and he groaned and whined a bit, this tough little
boy, doubled up naked on the bed.  After two fingers were sliding in and
out, I withdrew, spat on my cock and rubbed the spittle over it.  It was
throbbing and red and shining and as I stepped up to the bed, Francisco
looked at me with wide, frightened eyes.
	"What the fuck...?"
	"You're ready for this", I assured him.  "You're gonna love this"
	Francisco looked unconvinced.  "Wait....wait...."
	I was holding his legs up with one arm and rubbing the head of my
cock against his anus.  I knew that he was fighting the idea.  Getting
fucked was a purely fag activity.  Getting finger fucked was enough, he
thought, but getting fucked.  I knew he would like it.  He loved ass play.
I just had to get him past the initial idea, the initial taboo.
	"Let's just try it once", I said.  "If you don't like it, we never
have to do it again".
	"No, dude, no...."--but he remained on the bed, legs up and spread,
and I continued to push my cock slowly into him.  He was tight and
resistant.
	"You like fingers," I said. It was the first time either of us had
ever acknowledged this.
	"So?"
	"So this is even better," I said.
	All right, I was horny, desperately horny, and my cock was like a
homing device toward his asshole, but I had to have him on board or it
wouldn't be right. "This will be even better," I promised him. "It doesn't
make you gay.  Every man has a prostate..."
	Francisco was uncertain. He shook his head. "A what?"
	"A prostate is a gland in your ass," I said, teasing the lips of
his ass with my fingertip. "In here." I pushed in and wiggled and he
grunted. "Right there," I said. "All men have that. It isn't about being
gay."
	"I'm not gay."
	"See? That's proof," I said. My specious reasoning actually made
sense to me in the moment. "You like it and you're not gay. You're just a
sexual animal.  Women love that!"  I don't know what made me do it, but I
leaned over and kissed him on the nose.  All right. I know what made me do
it. I was working him, but I can honestly say I never lied. Every tender
verbal caress was heartfelt. "You're like a horny tiger, enough to drive
any girl crazy." I kissed him on the cheek now that I knew he wouldn't
object. I pulled my finger out and the head of my cock knocked at his back
door. I aimed it with my hand and lowered my lips to his neck, nibbling
softly. He closed his eyes and let out a deep breath and my cock slipped in
a bit.  Francisco gasped and tightened and breathed in quickly through his
teeth.
	"Shit!" he spat.  "It hurts".
	"Just relax and let it feel good", I urged and I kissed him again,
this time on the lips.  "Show me what you've got, boy".
	Francisco looked thoughtful for a moment, looking up into my eyes,
studying me carefully, wondering.  I looked into his eyes. "You can trust
me," I said. "I'll stop if you tell me to stop. I promise."  He took a deep
breath and let it out slowly, and as he did, my cock sunk in further and
further.  Halfway in, he stopped again and grew slightly teary- eyed.  He
closed his eyes and gritted his teeth.
	"Wait", he said.
	I waited, although I could feel my juices rising, so stimulated I
was.  I kissed him on his cheeks, chin, forehead, nose, then nibbled on his
lips gently, whispered into his ear.  "You're irresistible".
	"It hurts", he hissed.
	"I know, I know", I cooed, kissing him on the neck.  He raised his
head to welcome my wandering lips and I felt my cock slip in a little
further.  He moaned low in his throat.  "Let me in", I said.
	Francisco snaked his arms around my neck and pulled my face closer
to his.  Then I felt his ass give way and my cock slid home, slowly and
perfectly.  It was a surrender, a giving, an accepting, and as I sunk into
him, I marveled at his beautiful heart.  Was this the same boy that bullied
and harassed me, the same tough hoodlum, the same gang leader, here opening
himself to my pleasure, taking me into him, holding me like a lover?  My
body sunk onto his, the smooth velvety skin against my hairy torso.  His
breath smelled of chocolate.
	Slowly, I began to fuck him.  At first, he looked anguished by the
pain and I thought about stopping, but then my cock began sliding in and
out much easier, and I realized that he had relaxed and was now enjoying
it, smiling slightly, gasping and panting, squirming on the bed, choking
out words.  "Oh, yeah.  Oh, fuck yeah!"  He sounded surprised and excited.
	I pumped harder as my juices rose.  Francisco dug his nails into my
shoulders suddenly and let out a cry, unintelligible but soulful, and his
cock throbbed and spat out four pearls of sperm onto his taut, smooth
belly.  The vision of it, his voice in my ear, pushed me over the edge and
I shot a blast of sperm into him.  We both spasmed and gasped and groaned
and writhed until we suddenly were spent, and I nestled my nose into his
ear, my cock still in him, his arms around my neck.
	"Fuck!" he gasped.
	I was lying on top of him, trying to catch my breath.
	"Shit!" he moaned.
	I had no idea why he was cursing. Was he mad, relieved, in pain? I
raised my head and looked into his face. "What's the matter?"
	He lie quietly as his breath slowly steadied. I found the silence
unnerving. "What is it? Are you okay?"
	He threw his arm over his eyes. "Fuck."
	"Francisco," I said, touching his arm. My cock was still stiff and
inside him. His legs were splayed out to his sides, knees bent, feet behind
my knees.  "What is it?"
	Francisco slowly peeked out from under his arm. He looked at me,
sad and a bit angry. He was struggling with words that wouldn't come
out. His lips moved but he bit back the words. I touched his face. I was
amazed at the ease with which I touched him now, the intimacy of it, the
tenderness. His heart remained open to me even as my nose touched his. He
laughed.
	"I can't fuckin' believe it," he said, shaking his head. "I'm a
fuckin' faggot!"