Date: Fri, 25 Sep 2020 03:42:48 +0000 From: kleiner.gespenst Subject: Night Clerk | Part 4 REVISED The continuing story of two boys with unusual jobs, after they met in the Pacific Northwest. Thank you for following this series. If you've enjoyed it, or any of the works here on Nifty, can you please make a donation? http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html =============================================================== "You're shooting again?" Spider McCoy shook his head in awe, sitting across the table from 14-year-old Trevor Anderson. For once, the younger boy's flame red hair wasn't falling into his pizza, after it'd been cut for a a commercial the previous month. The ad agency art director had it styled into a bowl-cut that curved from above Trevor's eyebrows, below his ears, reaching to the the bottom of his neck. Kids at his middle school had mocked him mercilessly. In a region where boys either buzzed their hair, or wore it full-metal long, the cut also made the slowly maturing boy look even younger, almost like he was 10 or 12. "Yeah dude," Trevor shrugged. "They did some kind of testing, and it's doing really well." Which was a weird thing to say about an ad that had just been released. "The agency wants to turn it into a campaign," Trevor continued. "They want to make 4 more spots." Trevor shrugged again, picking up his slice, and wolfing it down in moments. He still thought the whole thing kind of silly, but fun. Spider was more than a little envious of the money his friend might be making. The 15-year-old worked his ass off every weekend during the school year, during the day at a boatyard, and evenings at the pizzeria in which the boys sat. The place was quiet, and he was happy to take a break with his close, younger friend. "So how long do you get to skip school?" Spider asked, then slurped on a soda. "Two weeks. But I'll have a tutor on set." Trevor replied, picking up another slice. "No getting out of school. Union rules." That was something that awed both boys; Trevor had a union card, like any working adult. And until that August, the redhead would never have thought he would be working anywhere but at his family's motel on Washington's Olympic Peninsula. It was while he took the night clerk shift over the summer that he'd met the De Vries family, on a road trip up the Pacific Coast Highway. Art house director Bram De Vries had forwarded some video of Trevor to a friend. Though the boy had never even considered acting, Bram had seen some kind of potential in Trevor. If nothing else, he could see the redhead and Bram's 13-year-old son, Harley fit together like puzzle pieces, and that was a good enough excuse to potentially lure Trevor south to their home in Los Angeles. Warned not to get his hopes up, Trevor was surprised when a casting director called him up for a video chat, and emailed him a script. A day later, the commercial director and some ad agency people conferenced with him, and he'd delivered his simple lines in dialogue with a copy writer sitting in for "Mom," Ending with a sort of "don't call us, we'll call you," Trevor was sure he'd never get the part. For one thing, the character for which he read the lines was "Blond Boy," and Los Angeles was awash in cute little blond kids desperate to break into show business. For another, the last time he'd "acted" was in a Christmas pageant as a silent pine cone. He was shocked when he got a call-back to read again, this time in a video conference with the actor cast for "Mom," more agency people, and the actual client. Though his key line was "Nice soup, mom," the ad was really for a macaroni-and-cheese product, and the words were meant to deride the competition's product. And though Trevor had a natural rapport with the actor, and delivered his lines with sarcastic precision, he still didn't expect to get the part. But then, he was floored when he was offered the gig. "You're actually pretty good at this," the director told him later. "Blond kids are a dime a dozen, and you've got a unique look. But we gotta do something about that hair. The Grunge thing doesn't work for the agency." Like most boys his age on that rainy part of coastal Washington State, Trevor hadn't had a serious hair chopping since he was 9 or 10, and if he wasn't happy about it, at least his dad was. School had just started when Trevor and his mom flew down to the Burbank airport, leaving Trevor's dad to run the Dew Drop Inn Motor Court with the meager, off-season staff. As they rolled their suitcases out of the arrivals gate, Clair and Trevor could only laugh when they saw 13-year-old Harley De Vries holding up a sign reading "Anderson," with a group of chauffeurs holding other signs. But that's where the illusion ended. He flipped his blond hair, long on one side and short on the other, with the kind of sass no adult would ever show. Trevor stared in awe at his friend's sinewy, smooth, tanned legs extending from very, very short 80's-era athletic shorts. As the boys hugged, squeezing each other like they'd been apart for years, rather than a month or two, Trevor whispered in Harley's ear, "Where did you find those shorts?" "Like `em?" Harley replied, laughing as they peeled themselves apart. "I got em off a vintage site. I also got a pair for you." "Weirdo," Trevor chuckled. But as the boy turned to lead them to a waiting car, Trevor couldn't help but admire how the snug shorts hugged the boy's buns like a second skin. And with no visible panty line, the blond boy must have been going commando. Trevor's dick twitched, and he pulled his gaze away from his friend's firm little runner's butt. "You didn't need to fetch us, Harley," Claire told the boy, as they climbed into the ride-share car. "We could have called our own car." "And let you get lost in the Hollywood Hills? Never." Minutes later, the boys were giggling with jokes and cultural references lost on both Clair and driver, as they drove up a winding canyon street. Harley pointed out a couple of older houses half-hidden in coastal oak, mentioning silent screen stars who lived there long ago. While Claire was fascinated by the sights and history, Trevor was barely interested in a city he'd never seen before, far more captivated by his friend. And he had to keep pulling his eyes away from Harley's legs, and his tightly bound bulge, and hints of pinkish flesh he occasionally glimpsed when the blond boy spread his legs. Trevor was losing the battle against his own erection, which throbbed painfully in his jeans. Some 30 minutes later, the car arrived on the other side of the hills, in Los Feliz, a section of L.A. proper. On the narrowest paved road either Anderson had ever seen, Harley pointed out a massive mansion looking like a Mayan temple. "Frank Lloyd Wright built that," Harley told them, mentioning a few of the many movies shot there. Finally, Trevor was awed by something other than his friend's lower body. Moments later, the car pulled up to a wooden gate flanked with bougainvillea-choked stone walls, and Harley got out to punch in a code for the doors to swing open. Hidden from any street view by shrubbery and trees, the De Vries home was an old, white-washed, Spanish-style, split-level home, hugging a steep hill. It wasn't extravagantly large, but it was elegant, and overlooked a small swimming pool and attached hot tub. "We're home!" Harley yelled, as they entered the small foyer. A door opened at the end of a hall, and voices in debate were unmuffled, then cut short their argument. Bram De Vries left the meeting in his office, shaking off his seriousness for a moment to greet the Northerners. "I hope we didn't interrupt anything, Bram," Trevor's mom said, concern in her voice. "Oh hell, no, Claire," Bram said with his charmingly vague Dutch accent. "This is how my writing partner and I work out a script. Innovation is 10% inspiration and 90% irritation." "I'm sorry that Hannah is out of town on a shoot," he continued, "or she could have picked you up. Paul and I are on a deadline with our producer. So...I'm afraid Harley will have to be your host today." "Are you kidding? You're putting us up. We're intruding." Over several minutes, the two adults tried to out-apologize each other, then Harley lead Claire downstairs to the small guest room, and Trevor to his own bedroom. The moment the boys crossed the threshold, Harley shut the door, pushed Trevor onto his queen-sized bed, and jumped onto his friend, tummy to tummy. Holding Trevor's face between both palms, Harley stared into the boy's eyes, his smile broad and genuine. Trevor, as always, was mesmerized by Harley's emerald green eyes, rimmed with blue. His cock, which had finally deflated in the foyer, quickly swelled again, and he could feel another tumescence pressing into his own. Harley's lips, a little unnaturally pink, danced like a butterfly across Trevor's, and they gently nibbled and sucked, while their cocks grew angry in their prisons. Before the kissing could grow more passionate, Harley sighed and rolled onto his back. A club pounded up the front of his shorts, to his waistband. "Fuck!" Harley huffed, "We'll have to wait 'til tonight." Trevor shared his friend's disappointment, barely restraining his hand from creeping to his friend's thumping loins. "You think your mom would be up for a hike?" Harley asked. "No Universal Studios?" Trevor asked, needling Harley with a destination he knew his friend loathed. Harley just rolled his eyes. "I'll go ask her," Trevor continued, readjusting his erection to conceal it better. Returning a few minutes later with the news his mom was getting ready for to hike, Trevor was disappointed Harley had changed into regular hiking shorts. "There's no way I could hide my boner with those things," Harley explained, giving Trevor a lop-sided smile. "And it's not gonna go away while you change into shorts." Ten minutes later, Harley was leading the Andersons down the road to a public staircase ending at a trailhead. And for the rest of the afternoon, the blond boy showed his guests wild lands a lot of tourists never visit. In a canyon, he lead them into a hidden cave used in countless movies and TV shows. Up a steep climb, they visited the Hollywood sign, before reaching a peak that looked down onto San Fernando Valley. At the Griffith Observatory, where they waited in line to peer through a solar telescope, Harley's hand found Trevor's, and their fingers telegraphed their happiness through cadenced squeezes. A while later, as Claire used the restroom, Trevor pulled Harley into an alcove, where their lips met for a brief and tender kiss. The boys giggled, chest to chest, and their groins made space even rarer in the crowded facility. The sun was setting, and the air getting chilly when they returned to the De Vries household, where they learned they'd just missed meeting Harley's older brother, out for the night with his girlfriend. Meanwhile, Bram was getting dinner ready. The director, an amateur chef, may have made a magnificent meal, but the famished boys wolfed it down without pausing to savor a bite. The adults laughed and excused them from the table, and continued with more civilized dining. "Let's hit the pool, Trev," Harley suggested, when they got to his bedroom. Knowing already that the De Vries family didn't bother with swim suits at home, Trevor asked nervously if they were skinny dipping. "Nah. Not when we have company over, Harley replied, pulling his t-shirt off his lean, tanned torso. "I mean, if it was just you, sure. But with your mom here..." Relieved, Trevor got his swim suit out of his suitcase as Harley's shorts hit the floor. Trevor's gaze lingered on the sinewy boy bending down in his skimpy, snug, pale blue briefs. He had to look away when Harley peeled his undies down, revealing firm globes as pale as the rest of where his body was normally shaded by shorts. But his cock continued to swell, pressing out needfully by the time he was down to his tight, gray boxer briefs. "Hmmm. Definitely gonna have to do some shopping for you," Harley said, appraising Trevor's condition. His own baggy board shorts were noticeably tenting along one leg. Trevor turned away to finish changing into his smaller, tighter swim suit, which did little to hide his own erection. Diving into the unheated pool, the boys quickly lost their shared pulsating plight. Laughing and splashing and goofing around, they lost themselves in the timeless joy of boys in water. Eventually, they climbed into the adjacent hot tub, and as they melted in jets of hot water and bubbles, Harley draped his arm across his friend's shoulders, and Trevor slid his arm around the boy's waist, resting his fingers on the blond's hips. Trevor sighed, taking in the view of the night-shrouded surrounding hills, and the lights of the L.A. basin below. The air was fragrant with night blooming flowers. "Fucking great view, dude." Peering at Trevor, Harley quietly replied, "It is now." Turning, Trevor was swept into his friend's hypnotic eyes, liquidly reflecting the hot tub's underwater lighting. Harley smiled at his soft-featured friend, freckles dappled across his little nose like stars rarely seen in the LA sky. From completely different backgrounds, the two boys had been drawn together along ethereal ley lines that could only be felt, and their lips travelled the short distance to merge in a gentle dance. Harley caressed Trevor's neck tenderly under the dripping red curtains he found undeniably seductive. As the boys' kissing grew in passion, Trevor traced his fingers up and down his friend's ribs and back, while Harley feathered his free hand inside the redhead's leg hem, and caressed corded, slender thighs. Their lips broke away so the boys could catch their breath, and Harley sighed in Trevor's ear. Resting his face agains his friend's, the blond boy whispered, "I missed you so much, Trev." "Me, too, Harley," Trevor replied. It was like a missing part of him had been restored, and he could have spent an eternity memorizing the sensation of their skin together. But his needful boy limb raged and demanded immediate attention. Fingertips travelled across Trevor's thigh, to the interior lining in the boy's swim suit. Tickling Trevor's young balls for a moment, Harley's index finger travelled along the boy's throbbing five inches, and gently rubbed in through the netting. Trevor trembled, and the hand caressing Harley's tummy journeyed south, to seek out the relatively mammoth pole straining at a diagonal against his board shorts. Wrapping his entire hand around Harley's thick boyhood, he gripped the boy firmly. While separated for weeks, their adolescent ardor had been only vaguely slacked with video telesex, and the moaning boys shed all pretense at delicacy. Trevor slowly stroked his friend, polishing Harley's turgid boyhood through rough, nylon canvass. Harley's hand was now gripping his friend with his whole hand as well, but Trevor's tighter swim suit made any movement difficult. "Can I take these off, dude?" Harley plead with a low and hungry voice. "Um, what if someone comes out?" Trevor asked, worried to be caught in flagrante, despite both family's tacit approval of their relationship. "Wouldn't be the first time for me," Harley giggled. But it would be the first time with someone that had stolen his heart. "Besides, they're gonna be watching `Dreaming The Day Away,'" Harley noted, reminding his friend of a still unreleased movie the adults had been talking about that had been passed to Bram for his input. Harley took both his friend's hands to pull Trevor up with him, and their lips met to feed upon one another a bit more urgently, tongues sliding playing like porpoises in their frothing mouths. While they kissed, Harley untied Trevor's swim suit, and slid his fingers inside. Rubbing the boy with the flat of his hand, Harley pulled a moan from Trevor that echoed in the sealed caverns of their mouths. Harley pulled away from Trevor, and bent down to help the boy out of his suit, admiring the slender tumescence bouncing just below the surface of the bubbling water. With little ceremony, Harley quickly pulled off his board shorts, and the two boys held each other naked in the open night. "Wanna feel something really lit?" Harley whispered, and bit his lower lip. "Uh-huh," Trevor nodded. "What is it?" "Come here," Harley replied, pulling his friend to his knees in front of one of the hot tub jets. As hot water and bubbles pounded into his rigid boyhood and churning nuts, Trevor quietly squealed, and fell forward to lay his chest on his arms, resting on the deck. Harley spread his Trevor's legs to kneel behind the boy on the submerged bench. Wrapping one arm around Trevor to hug him tightly, Harley tweaked each of his friend's nipples into hardened cones. At the same time, his other hand slid to Trevor's scrotum, beaten back by the maelstrom to the boy's slender ass. Palming Trevor's still hairless balls, he gripped the boy's base with a thumb in the small bush on top, and an index finger curled around from below. Trevor was quaking and gasping from the atomic pummeling, and then he felt Harley's unnaturally large tool sliding up between his buttocks. Growing dizzy, Trevor gave his friend a gentle squeeze with his firm butt muscles. Unconsciously, Trevor's hips thrust rhythmically against the violent submarine storm, and Harley groaned as his rigid pubescence was polished by wet, rubbery globes. Harley's hips joined in the furious dance, and he began stroking Trevor's length with the same tempo in which he humped the boy's crevice. The patio echoed with clockwork splashing, rhythmic moans and growing panting. Trevor felt fire in his nuts, and an itch across his loins. "Gonna cum, dude!" Trevor heaved. "Can't. Stop. It!" Moving quickly, Harley slid his hugging arm down around his friend's waist, and pulled Trevor to his feet. With both boys standing on the submerged seat, and their knees well above the surface, Harley began humping his friend's bottom again, while using all his fingers to stroke the redhead's meat in a frenzy. "Cum for me, Peanut," Harley huffed into his friend's ear, using the Anderson family's pet name for the boy, while furious assaulted his friend from front and back. "Cum hard!" "Uhngggghhhhh!" Trevor squealed, and his nuts detonated. Trevor's cock crushed and squeezed to eject a thin jet of slightly milky seed in a high arc. As the boy grit his teeth, and stars erupted behind his clenched eyelids, Harley milked 2 more thinner volleys, and then some dribbled pulses. At last, Trevor collapsed into his friend's arms, and though Harley let the boy catch his breath, his hips couldn't stop gently rubbing his cock in the redhead's divide. He was so close to cumming, his body was moving on autopilot. Coming to his senses, Trevor whispered over his shoulder, "Do you want to fuck me for real?" Oh, did he ever, but Harley sighed. "Later. It's getting cold, and we can take our time inside." Trevor turned to give his friend a tender kiss. "You've gotta be so close." Harley nodded. "Mmm-hmmm," and returned the kiss. Trevor sat on the deck, and studied the middle schooler's man-sized dick. At seven inches, it was the biggest of the few hard-ons he'd ever seen. Rising from a still bald pubic mound, and contrasting with a small, smooth bag attached like a limpet, Harley's boyhood always filled Trevor with awe when it wasn't filling his backside. And filled him with hunger. He was ravenous for the tiny payload his friend would soon eject, and he held the boy's quaking love hammer in one fist, while tickling Harley's tiny balls with his other thumb and index finger. Leaning toward the uncut head, Trevor slid his tongue tip under the boy's foreskin, and tenderly took a couple of laps around Harley's sensitive knob. When the boy groaned with frustration and need, Trevor unsheathed Harley's crown with his lips, sealing them behind its ridge. With Harley begging for release, Trevor stroked the boy with an iron grip, while sucking and tongue-lashing the underside of his knob. Harley gripped Trevor's head with two handfuls of dripping, wet hair. His hips started grinding on their own, and Trevor brought more friction to bear. Suddenly, Harley gasped, and shook silently. A few drops of almost flavorless boy juice bubbled onto Trevor's tongue, and the redhead milked the boy through more dry pulses, before holding him gently with becalmed hands and lips. Harley shivered, and then started to soften, and he released Trevor's hair. The redhead climbed up to take his friend in his arms, and the boys hugged silently for a long time, sighing and relishing the warm sensation of their conjoined skin. "I really wanted you to fuck me, dude," Trevor whispered in his friend's ear. "I will. Don't you worry, bud," Trevor replied pulling away to point at the glistening trail of boy seed scattered across the patio deck. "But that's one of the reason I'm not supposed to do any sex stuff in the pool." "Oh," Trevor replied, mortified they could have made the hot tub toxic. Getting out to hose away the evidence, Harley suggested they go for one last quick dip in the pool to wash off the sweat they'd built up. When they got out, Trevor was stunned by how much the temperature dropped in L.A. at night. He was shivering. A few minutes later, with swim suits back on, and towels around their dripping waists, the boys found Bram and Claire in the den, watching the film they'd discussed. Bidding the adults goodnight, the boy's lied about going to play some games in Harley's room. Hanging up their wet things to dry, and quickly brushing their teeth, the young teens raced naked down the hall to Harley's room and shut the door. Though they'd drained each other of their pent-up loads, the boys had yet to empty each other's swollen desire, beginning to ripen again in their young fruit. Harley turned off the lights. With the curtains drawn wide, city light flickered across Harley's body in orange hues while he crossed the room to turn on some ambient music. "Who's this?" Trevor asked, as his friend walked back to him. "Tycho. It's a band or a guy or something," Harley replied. "I think it's sensuous." "I think you're a big romantic, dude," Trevor smiled, wrapping his arms around his friend. "I really missed you so much." "Not as much as I missed you," Harley quietly replied, squeezing back. Then his hands slid south to clutch each side of Trevor's firm, pale bottom. "Also really missed your ass." Trevor flexed his cheeks in Harley's grip and giggled. "Show me how much." Their cocks were slowly rising in expectation, floundering against each other like landed fish in slow motion. "Yes sir," Harley replied with mock severity. "Please lie down for your safety and comfort." Trevor giggled and took a step toward the bed, when he looked at the window filled with the glowing urban vista. Harley's desk rested right in front of it, and Trevor had a thought. Stepping to the desk, he rolled away its chair, and and bent at the waist to lie with his stomach and chest across the table's width. Stretching his toned, yet slender legs back and spread wide, Trevor also draped his arms to either end of the desk. Turning his head, he winked at Harley. "Why waste this view, dude?" Harley chuckled, The view from where he stood was magnificent, and as he studied the pallid redhead's skin glowing with the colors of Los Angeles, he licked his lips in particular fascination at his friend's solid butt cheeks. Slender, yet muscular, rounded, yet with shelf-like spaces on either side leading to the boy's skinny hips, his buttocks beckoned, and Harley hardened. Harley reached into the drawer of his bedside table and removed a bottle of lube, then walked to his prone friend. Harley's rigid boyhood bounced with each step, a diving rod leading to hidden treasure. Placing the bottle on the desk, Harley bent over his friend, resting his stomach on Trevor's back. Kissing his friend on the earlobe, Harley whispered, "Your ass is fire, dude." "It's all your's, Harley." The blond stood back up, and combed his long side of his damp hair behind one ear, then filled his hand with lubricating liquid. Squelching both hands together, Harley first gave Trevor a good massage, from each wrist to each shoulder. Then, working his way south, he soon had Trevor purring. With more lube, he worked Trevor's tight muscles, from his bony feet up his well defined legs. "You've gotta stretch out more, Trev," Harley muttered. "Maybe you should do some yoga." "Yeah, I'll work that into my schedule," Trevor replied, groaning occasionally when Trevor hit a knot just right. Then Harley remembered everything that worked like magic the last time they'd been together, and Trevor almost puddled into the desk, if his rigid bone wasn't pounding in futility. Both boys sighed in satisfaction when Harley's fingers dug deeply into Trevor's resilient buttocks. After working them for a few moments, Harley slapped each sharply, making Trevor squeak, and marveling as Trevor's mounds quivered just a little. Lowering onto his knees, Trevor parted Harley's orbs. In the shadows, he could barely see Trevor's anus, but he could always find it by kissing every millimeter of the boy's hot little valley, then running his tongue from the top of his cleft, to his quivering, slightly concave taint. He teased Trevor up and back the chlorine-scented split for several minutes, smiling as the boy quivered and moaned. Twirling around Trevor's little starfish, Harley spent a long time in oral worship, licking and sucking and kissing the clenching rose, until Trevor squirmed and begged for a good fucking. Greasing up his fingers once more, Harley worked a digit into his friend, astonished at how much more relaxed Trevor's hole had become since their last time together. As a second finger followed, Trevor observed, "You've been using that butt plug I sent up." "Yeah. It's light years better than the dildo I made in Wood Shop Class, when I'm beating off, thinking of you." "Now who's the romantic?" Harley's fingers plunged slowly in and out, with the tireless, metronomic precision of an oil pump. He never quite pressed the boy's special place, and denied the promise of any quick release to his tormented friend, who gasped and moaned with every thrust. "Haaaaaaaarley?" Trevor whined. Harley chuckled, running the fingers of his other hand up and down the inside of Trevor's thighs, occasionally reaching the pink pendulum hanging between, lightly feathering a finger over each of the boy's testicles. "Are you...suuuure, Trev?" Harley plunged and feathered, and leaned down to give each of Trevor's buns a gentle bite. The rubbery mouthfeel was exquisite. "Come on, Harley! Pleeeease!" His ass was a little sore, and very hot, and needed to be filled. "OK, dude, just a sec." Harley coated his hand in more lube, greasing his pounding pink kielbasa with a coat so thick it dripped, then slopped more into Trevor's passage. Holding himself by the tip, Harley guided the crest of his nozzle against Trevor's searing little hole. Very slowly, Harley leaned in with his hips, stretching Trevor's flesh gasket to the limit, and then beyond. When Harley would stop to make sure he was OK, Trevor urged him on, gritting his teeth. But it was much easier than when they'd last been together and it had felt like Harley was splitting him like a boiled ham. And moments later, Harley's pulsating probe breached Trevor's airlock. With Harley's knob throbbing through Trevor's crushing ring, the pair waited a moment for the prone boy to settle in. The duo sighed and gazed out at the panorama. "Keep going, dude," Trevor grunted. "Oh yesssssss!!" With slow determination, Harley leaned into Trevor's warm meat baffles, finally coming to rest deep within him. Pulling back slowly, then plunging back in, he gradually thrust in a building frequency. Gripping Trevor by the hips with his fingertips, he pushed the boy's buns together with the heels of his hands, adding friction to his base. He'd pull almost out of Trevor's ring, where the boy's ring crushed his crown, then plummet back into the redhead's fiery core. Every time Harley's helmet harrowed his toggle, Trevor gasped in building volume, and then the gasps turned to moans, rising in pitch. The bedroom echoed with the boys' quiet cries of passion, and the slapping of hips against buttocks. Occasionally, Harley would pull all the way back, stop for a moment, and spank one or the other of the reddening butt cheeks he plundered, drawing delighted squeals from Trevor. Trevor held the desk in a white-knuckled grip, and he shifted his feet forward, so he could bend his knees. Coiled and ready, he began pumping back against his impaler. They were pumping, and gasping, rolling and clenching. "Harder, Baby!" Trevor begged. "Gonna cum if I do, Peanut!" Harley huffed. "Do it, baby! Hose me down!" Trevor was so close himself, but he wanted to savor Harley's climax first. In a furious blur, Harley slammed and rammed and jammed his friend with everything he had. Sweat ran from his pits and scalp and in his loins. And when he could, Trevor clenched Harley with his blazing bowels, though it was agonizing. But the added friction burnished Harley's boyhood into the red zone. Harley's tiny grapes pulled into the boy, and he slammed deeply one last time. Always silent, he shook, as his cock labored to drool the meager pearl of prepubescent essence he could make. With micro thrusts, he milked several dry eruptions into Trevor, planting his ardor deeply within his friend, then he collapsed on top of the redhead. His sweat-dampened chest sealed to Trevor's willowy, creamy back, and his jaw rested in the boy's damp, red mane. "Oh, fuuuuck-that-was-fire!" Harley heaved, laboring to catch his breath. "You feel so good," Trevor replied, painfully giving Trevor's slowly softening cock a squeeze with his flexing abs and clenching anus, and the core in between. Peeling his right hand from the end of the desk, Trevor reached below to grip himself, but Harley pulled the boy's hand away. "Let me, Peanut," he whispered. Reaching back and down, he felt for Harley's stalk with the fingers of one hand, and the boy's round, hairless sack with the palm of the other, and stroked and squeezed with a gentle rhythm. But Trevor was primed and loaded and needed to cum with the force of a cracking hydroelectric dam, and begged his friend to rub him faster. It took only moments, with Harley's near-hardness still filling him, the tender caresses to his balls, and the friction polishing Trevor from his lightly frilled base, to his tender, circumcised head. Suddenly, Trevor cried out loudly, and his wonder hole caved in on Harley, pulping the boy. Trevor beat his fist against the desk with each eruption enveloped in rubbing fingers. A thin jet shot up across the desk's undercarriage, while the next 3 dribbled meekly down the back of Harley's fingers, belying the solar flares Trevor felt. At last, he had to grab Harley's hand, to stop the slow, yet agonizing pumping. "Too. Sensitive," Trevor heaved, as the stars in his eyes cleared, to be replaced by the LA night scape. Still holding Harley's hand to him, Trevor turned his face to the side so he could give his friend a gentle smile. Harley nuzzled tenderly into his friend's face, and kissed his cheek. Harley slowly softened in Trevor's bottom, while the redhead's erection retreated in their mutual clasp. "I love you inside me, dude," Trevor mused quietly. "It's like you're a part of me." "You're always a part of me," Harley whispered, and kissed his friend's cheek again. Just then, his flaccid boyhood slid wetly out of Trevor, and the redhead sighed. "I just like feeling like we're almost one person." "Me too," Harley replied. "You know, when I was fucking you, you called me `baby.'" Though Harley couldn't see it, Trevor blushed. "Uh, yeah, I guess it just came out of me. Um...I've got a bunch of feelings...and I...well," he stumbled. He was a visual guy, and didn't always have the words. And they were totally absent then. "Besides, you keep calling me `Peanut,' and you're not making fun." "I'd never give you shit dude," Harley replied sincerely, as the boys both released Trevor's soft, wet boyhood. "And I've got a bunch of feels about you, too." Harley licked the back of his hand clean, savoring the slightly salty flavor of Trevor Sauce, then climbed off his friend. Trevor pressed himself up and turned to wrap his arms around Harley. "You know it's only 9:15," Trevor whispered with a smile. "Wanna see how many times you can make me call you `baby' tonight?" "I'm thinking at least 10, Peanut." =================================================================== "I hate you leaving! I just fucking hate it!" A stream of hot tears rolled down Harley's cheeks as he squeezed Trevor like he'd never see his friend again. The sassy, carefree boy was baring his true underbelly, and it opened up Trevor, as well. "Me, too, dude," Trevor sniffled, losing his own battle against weeping. It just wasn't fair that he'd become so close to another boy who lived so far away. They squeezed, and cried, and slid their arms around to squeeze some more. After 3 days of work, Harley and his mom were about to catch the last flight to Seattle. "Jessie's not leaving for an hour," Harley snuffled into Trevor's ear, reminding his friend how long they had until his older brother drove the Andersons to Burbank Airport. "We have enough time for a shower. And, like, you really stink, dude." Trevor laughed through his tears. "Not as bad as you, butt mange." The boys pulled apart with sad smiles, and as they pulled out fresh underwear and turned toward the hallway door, Trevor relived the last five days in quick mental replay. After a long day hiking on Saturday, Harley and he had boned until the wee hours, with the blond boy's cock up Trevor's ass 4 times. On Sunday, Harley and the Andersons set out to bike from Los Feliz to Sunset Park, with lots of stops at weird shops, and Jesse had joined them. It turned out the 16-year-old was a really good guy, though in a constant battle with his parents. And Trevor couldn't help but fall for the handsome, 6-foot / 2-inch blond stud's serious charms. Jesse had no interest in the family business, mocking it openly, except when it came to his little brother's acting. Even if Harley didn't take it seriously, Jesse was his brother's biggest fan and fiercest defender, and more than once, Harley wished he'd had an older brother. That Sunday night, the middle schoolers didn't attempt a repeat of the previous marathon, since it was a school night for Harley, and a work night for Trevor, in a business about which he was growing really scared. But Harley used very convincing words, and an even more relentless tongue to bring his friend to sleep. It seemed only moments after his eyes shut that Trevor found himself waking to the familiar sensation of a hot, wet boy mouth pulling sleep and cum from his cock. His legs were kicking, and Harley had to put a hand over Trevor's wailing mouth, as he shot jet after jet into his friend's ravenous mouth. Slumping back, it was many minutes before Trevor started to panic. After a breakfast Trevor barely touched, Harley kissed his friend tenderly and deeply. "Dude, you'll be great. No worries." "Your words to God, Harley." "I'll see you after school." At a production company office in Glendale, Trevor and his mom finally shook hands with the director, the production staff, the ad agency people and the other actors. Most of the actors seemed nice, if a little too eager to please. But the girl playing Trevor's little sister peered at him with distaste "Not even on IMDB Pro? Are you from dinner theater?" Her 10-year-old voice dripped with the bitter condescension of a woman in her 60s sending a dinner order back to the kitchen. Fortunately, the director and casting director hadn't mentioned to anyone Harley had no experience at all. They were very confident in the boy, and quietly reinforced him through a day of wardrobe fittings, hair and makeup, and rehearsals. Harley had told him that in features and TV shows, these steps were stretched over weeks, if not months. But in commercials, good enough was more than enough. But unlike how most productions worked, Trevor's rehearsals were studied intently by the director and agency people. As a "new face," with no resume, Harley found out later that there'd been a stand-in waiting in an office nearby. Fortunately, his two speaking scenes were simple, and Trevor easily ignored the video camera standing in for the Panavision that would shoot him for real. By the end of the day, the woman playing "Mom," and the girl playing "Girl," had their hair dyed as red as Trevor's, and the boy had his hair cut like most of the snarky cousins or nephews introduced into the final seasons of dying comedies. Trevor was emotionally drained by the time Claire and he returned to the De Vries house early that night. But adrenaline shot through him when Harley squeezed him tight. "Told ya you'd be OK," Harley whispered into the redhead's ear. "It was like the weirdest day," Trevor replied, telling his friend all about it. As they made their way to the dining room, Harley's fingers found Trevors, and he gave the boy's hand a meaningful squeeze. "Yeah, it's freakish. And it's just a stupid job." Trevor laughed. "Mr. Show Biz," and paused. "I just wish you could be there, dude." Harley sighed. "Me too, man. But I got school." Pausing, he teased Trevor, "And you're a drop-out slacker." Then he tickled his friend mercilessly around the ribs, and soon the boys were screaming hysterically, rolling and wrestling until Bram De Vries yelled for them to come to dinner. In bed that night, soaked in sweat and streaks of semen, with Trevor curled around him, Harley revealed the real reason he couldn't skip school and be with the boy. "If there's a De Vries anywhere near you, people won't believe you earned the gig." Trevor was quiet for a minute, then quietly asked Harley, "Did I, dude?...Did I earn it?" Sighing, Harley rolled over to face his closest friend. "Trev - Peanut - you got this job on your own. Papa just dropped your name to a friend from art school because he thinks you're, I dunno, unique." Harley smiled, and his hypnotic eyes were dark in the shadows of the bedding, but Trevor could only judge the depth of his friend's words through their sincerity, and he was humbled. In the dark, they kissed deeply, then Harley rolled over, and snuggled back into Trevor's moist embrace. The first day, Trevor and his mom had to be on set at a Burbank studio by 8, and Harley's oral alarm clock had woken him at 6. It was a frantic morning of interior scenes, with a couple of moving camera shots. This was where Trevor learned how to "hit his marks," delivering lines while walking to a taped "X" on the floor where a camera would pull its focus. He fucked that up a couple of times, until the director took him aside and gave him couple of tips. After lunch, Trevor had mandatory time with the union tutor, going over math he'd already learned the previous week at his own school. The rest of the day, he shot scenes at a park near Dodger stadium, in Little League and soccer gear, then with extras his age busting a piñata. The wardrobe supervisor helping him change was kind and funny. When she complimented his underwear, Trevor blushed. Harley insisted on buying him expensive briefs like his own. The final day was across town in Santa Monica, and they'd set out by 4 AM to beat traffic. After a long day of beach scenes, with long pauses for different setups, and 2 hours of "school," Trevor was exhausted by the time his mom and he were driven back to the De Vries home. The drive itself took 2 hours, and it was nearly 8 PM when everyone finished a quick dinner. Back in Harley's room, the boys shed tears, then slipped down the hall. As Trevor closed the bathroom door behind them, and peeled his t-shirt off, Harley gave him a serious look. "Dude, I've gotta tell you something, and it's not OK." The blond looked down at his feet, then up again, and flipped the long side of his hair back. "Dad got a call about your work." Trevor's hear sank. He'd thought the work so easy, but maybe he was terrible at it? And he was going to be leaving Harley in an hour. How could things get worse? Harley gave his friend the look a doctor would before delivering the worst news, then bit his lower lip with a mischievous smile. "They fucking love you, dude! I mean, you may have to come back for re-shoots," Harley grinned, holding his friends by the upper arms. "But the client loves you! It was a total homer!" Trevor's jaw dropped. He'd punched through his nervousness during spoken scenes, and gleefully played along through the other set-ups, figuring that, at the end of the day, his one on-screen appearance would be fun, if immemorial. He never expected applause. Walking slowly and seductively toward his friend, Harley dropped his cargo shorts. With operatic grace, he peeled Trevor's clothes off, until both boys were inches apart, in the matching, pink-and-orange striped hip briefs Trevor had purchased for both of them. The tanned, blond boy and the creamy redhead, almost equal in size, though a year apart, stared longingly at each other, and their hands whipped up to each other. Trevor wiped the drying salty trails from his friend's cheeks, while Harley held the other boy by his skinny rib cage. "Your haircut is kinda cut, dude," Harley said, reaching up with one hand to run a forefinger from the the where the locks fell next to Trevor's eye, down past where it met the bottom of his ear, to the bottom of his neck. "You look like...a Cub Scout!" Tension broken, both boys laughed hysterically, then wrapped their arms around each other, squeezing tightly. Leaning back, Trevor stared into Harley's liquid, emerald-and-blue eyes, no longer hypnotized, but deeply enchanted, his heart beating harder than the 14-year-old penis stretching his snug little undies. "You're so fucking sexy, dude," Trevor said, slipping a hand between them to cup Harley's cotton-wrapped scrotum, while pressing his palm against the boy's fully engorged, pulse-pounding thickness. Like a meal steamed in a banana leaf, Harley's cock radiated damp heat through his skimpy briefs, and Trevor starved for his thick, young flesh. His own penis stretched up and out, yearning for its brother. Harley slid one arm around his friend's waist, then another behind Trevor's flaming bowl cut, while the redhead used his spare hand to trace the boy's slender, solid butt cheeks through thin, stretchy cotton. The boys pressed together, smiling from their souls. Kissing and licking each other's faces, the boys washed away the salty stains of momentary grief, then their lips met to seal and undulate. Tongues tickled, then tackled, and their hips began to grind. Like current surging from the earth through their bare feet, a deep, immeasurable power flowed through them, arcing through their cocks, desperate and loving. "Ohh Peanut, you feel so sweet," Harley heaved, then slurped more of his friend's saliva, and fellated the boy's tongue. In moments, Trevor's back was pressed down onto a fluffy bathroom throw-rug, his ass rhythmically grinding into it from the force of Harley's forceful pumping. Their mouths so ravenous, tongues whipping serpentine. Heaving and sucking and trading breath and saliva. Groins surging and receding like tidal waves. Snug undies were a thin border that could not divide them. Trevor's hips rose to meet Harley's with every thrust, and their cotton-strangled boyhoods ground together with brutal force. Harley's lips left Trevor's, and he rose up on the flat of his hands, planting his knees for leverage so he could plow into his friend like a diesel excavator. Trevor's hands held the other boy's ripe boy globes in twin vice grips, grinding up to meet his friend in a powerful, hemispherical rotation. "That's. Gaaaahuuuh!" Trevor gasped. "OOOUUUh!" The thin, stretchy border was no barrier for their passion, and only added to the friction setting their cocks afire. A chorus of mounting moans echoed off the tiles as they humped faster. "Gonna..GONNA...AAAAOOOOOOH!" Harley gasped, slamming his hips and burrowing his meaty piston deeply into Trevor's groin. His tiny nuts imploded, and his back arched into a "c," while he trembled silently. Beads of clear essence seeped into his briefs, just as Trevor ferociously pumped up into Harley. "Gaaaah! NNGghhhhhaaa!" Trevor choked his disjointed, polyphonic cries through gritting teeth. Stars exploded in his tightly shut eyes, and his world ejected into his underpants in a burst of milky boy sap. Hand-anchored to Harley's firm, round globes, he thrust again, and again, and again into his shivering friend, driving 3 more jets of thinning seed into his soaking briefs. And then, the boys collapsed in a heap of sweaty, sodden, though not fully sex-slacked satisfaction. Harley traced a finger along Trevor's jaw, while his breathing slowed. That soft freckled face was everything to him. At the same time, Trevor finger painted with the salty dew in the back basin at the foot Harley's Bun Mountain, wishing his friend and he could stay this way forever, even in a bathroom. An alert thumped on Harley's smart watch, and he glanced at the text message from Jesse. "Fuck. We've got 20 minutes," he sighed, climbing up and giving Trevor a hand. "I can't believe we banged one out on the bathroom floor." "It's a really comfy rug, dude." Harley chuckled. "Let me tell you a secret, Trev. When I was a little kid, I used to hump that rug all the time, until my parents caught me. They didn't make a big deal about it, but it was so embarrassing." Trevor laughed. Though he'd softened, the image of a little Harley making love to a rug made his dick lurch. Harley was still rigid in his damp underpants, while the rich slime in Trevor's sealed the cotton to his genitals like wheat paste, revealing every contour of his circumcised head. Harley started the shower, and then pulled off his briefs, and Trevor followed suit. His little fire bush was matted with semen, and Harley lowered a finger to pull a sample to his tongue. "Mmmm. Nothing like fresh Peanut Juice." "Freak. Let's get in." Though the De Vries home was mostly understated, the bathroom Harley and Jesse shared had a shower with two big overhead nozzles, and three on the left and right sides. Harley had told him it was designed for up to three people to use simultaneously. Trevor had wondered why 3, but decided L.A. was weird. Entering the torrent, the boys were buffed from all sides, massaged and exfoliated and pressure-cleansed. Filling their hands with body wash, their slippery fingers slid all across each each other's rubbery flesh, soaping each other from head to toe. By the time they reached each other loins, they ached for release once more. Hands fill with buttocks, they kissed deeply in the watery chaos, tongues slipping like fish in and out of each other oral grottoes. Their throbbing cocks mashed together in a painful huddle. Harley pulled away, telling his friend, "We only have a few more minutes, and I really need to cum again." "Me too, dude." Stepping apart to squint at each other in the downpour, the boy's wasted no time on teasing. With one hand running through Trevor's hair, Harley filled his down-facing, sudsy fist with Trevor's 5-inch adolescence, stroking with firm deliberation and an iron grip. One of Trevor's hands glided down the curvature of Harley's slender torso, to rest on the boy's hipbone, while the other mirrored the blond's grip, with thumb and and index finger facing his friend's hairless pubic mound, and the other fingers in a train ending around the blond's uncut helmet. Studying each other's reactions, they were a two-stroke engine pushing and pulling each other with a furious torque, racing toward their favorite destination. "Oh fuck, Peanut! You feel so good," Harley moaned, unsure himself whether he meant the wet friction Trevor worked into his thick 7-inches, or the sensation of the other boy's penis in his own hand. And at the same time, both boys' backsides were battered with hot cascading waves. "Faster baby, I'm. ALMOST...Uuuuhhhh! Uhhhh! UUUUUUhhhhhh!!!" Trevor's cock detonated with what little load he could still muster, lost in the storm. While his love nozzle silently screamed four more times, Trevor was unmoored in time and space. His knees buckled, and he held onto Harley for dear life. When the stars cleared from behind his eyelids, and he returned to his body, Trevor found himself slumped against Harley, held in the other boy's hand, motionless, yet lovingly. And at the same time, he knew Harley was primed, and needed his immediate attention. Dropping to his knees, he unsheathed his friend's glistening gem, and sealed his lips behind the ridge. Licking furiously under the meaty treat, and sucking hard with his cheeks,Trevor pounded Harley's stalk furiously, nearly punching himself in the face. With his other hand, he cupped Harley's boy's tender little grapes, gently squeezing them, while his middle finger slid up the boy's crevice. With little time to spare, Trevor wasn't gentle, and his finger pierced his friend forcefully, making Harley grunt. And then Harley squealed when that finger came to rest on his sensitive acorn. Pushing in time with his furious rubbing, Trevor's assault was steady, merciless and efficient. He adored every bit of the thick, prepubescence he polished so violently, committing every detail in his hand and mouth to a lifetime of memory. When the boy's high-pitched squeals turned silent, and he began to shake, Trevor knew he was pulling the boy's climax out brutally. He sucked and rubbed through 4 or 5 turbulent pulsations, and though he could feel Harley's pee hole miming an eruption, he tasted nothing. Harley had both fists filled with the Trevor's sopping hair, and he caught his breath, while softening in his friend's hand. He gasped when Trevor's finger slid out of his boy hole, almost dizzy from a climax that had started at his toes, and ended somewhere in outer space. Trevor climbed up, and the boys turned off the shower; dripping young teens, smiling at each other in pride of their triumphant, painful climaxes. As Harley reached out for towels, Trevor voiced his curiosity. "When you come, you go quiet. Why is that?" "Dude, before we moved to this place, Jesse and I shared a room. Jacking it at night with your brother 4 feet away is weird enough, without hearing each other. I guess it's just force of habit." As if on cue, Harley's smart phone filled with a text message from Jesse: "Hurry up and cum. We gotta bounce." Smirking, he held it up for Trevor to read, who turned red, but giggled. Hurrying to dry, Trevor promised his friend, "The next time I see you, I'm gonna make you scream when you cream." =========================================== To be continued...