alex and the box boy
by joe wilson
Alex Simpson was a wealthy man. He was also a sensualist, a pleasure seeker. And with free time and unlimited money, it was possible for him to do the impossible, and he did, as he chased sought and found forbidden pleasures.
He had a home in San Marino, north of Huntington, on Lombardy, not far from the Library. The lawn had a wide expanse to it, and rising on a gentle slope, the house looked down upon the street. Its' huge size was modestly shrouded by giant sycamores and chinese elms, so that it did not appear as imposing as it truly was.
Mrs Simpson, her name is Karen, is a horsey woman of solid proportions. She wore skirts and sweaters that were no longer stylish, and tennis shoes that were. Active in local charities, and dominant among her friends, she was organizer and hostess for many fund-raisers, teas and luncheons and coctail parties. She was a lady. Happy with her munificent life, and would not change one aspect of it.
Alex is a young man, not yet thirty. And he is handsome; his demeanor, nurtured by privilege, his body by controlled exercise. The tailored suits he wore, accented his tall, lean stature and left the mark of success upon him, who never suffered, never wanted, never worked. There were no worry lines on his handsome face and, despite the several levels on which he lived his life, no guilt or remorse hidden in his eyes. He stepped into forbidden areas, but made no apologies, for in his affluent world he could do no wrong. He knew that Karen was aware of his indiscretions. He simply did not care. Nor did she.
In the Silverlake hills of Los Angeles, fifteen miles away, there was a house, on the crest of a ridge, that ran from Sunset Boulevard to the Hollywood freeway. When there were windows in the house, they looked out upon the city, past the Arco towers and Wells Fargo building to the diminished city hall, then to Mt Washington. It was a beautiful sight before Alex bought the house, but when escrow closed and it was his, he called a contractor. One he did not know nor new him, and they developed plans for changes.
The house was small, not much larger than the garage at the San Marino property, just a living area, kitchen, and two bedrooms separated by a small bath.
At Alex's request, the contractor knocked down walls and, with a plumber and electrician, remodeled the house, so that now it was converted into one huge room and one extra large bath, with a sunken roman tub fitted with the latest fashion of Jacuzzi. The windows that were open to a view of Los Angeles, were eliminated and covered with mirrors, as were all the walls and ceilings. The floors were tiled. Luscious pink and lavender and pale green tones dominated. Indirect lighting gave a theatrical versatility to the surrounding glow, that made it a place of mystery. It was complimentary and sensuous. To Alex Simpson it was erotically exciting. He called it his 'Eden', and he shared it with no one.
One Tuesday afternoon in late June, Alex Simpson parked his red corvette in the garage of the Silverlake Eden. The automatic garage door slid down silently and firmly. He slipped out of his Gucci loafers and cashmere socks, and he hung his shirt and slacks on a hook by the door that opened into the large room. In a moment, he was naked.
The anticipated pleasure excited him. In fact, his body trembled as his left hand cupped his testicles, heavy with precious cum. His long slender middle finger rubbed against the slick membrane that covered his anus, and forced its' way inside. His cock was fully erect, and it swayed back and forth enticingly as he went through the door into the room.
Illumination was automatic. A soft peach colored light came from nowhere, turned on by a switch, sensitive to the heat of his body. It was a subdued light, leaving shadows in the corners. The mirrors reflected the image of his beautiful body and the hunger emanating from it; hunger for the agony of pleasure. It pleased him to catch the sight of his figure as he stood in the center of the room.
A light sprinkling of hair danced across his broad chest and down the center of his abdomen, past the button, where it exploded into a thick copper matted cushion surrounding his soaring penis. His erect nipples were flushed with the pleasure of expectation. He was alone with his naked body in an exciting room, ready to begin the ritual of self love, of self gratification. He walked to the mirror and pressed his body against its cool surface, so that his cock touched the reflected image, and he pressed open lips together as he kissed himself. He was in love, in love with himself, and the love thrived on the pleasure his body gave to him.
Not far from the Silverlake 'Eden' there lived a boy named Willie.
Willie lay quietly on his side of the bed waiting for his brother Andy to finish. The mattress shook with an accustomed violence, and the headboard struck the wall with familiar pounding. Willie could tell Andy was near his climax by the heavy breathing and the suppressed guttural cries. This was a nightly ritual, and an early morning one too, as Andy masturbated. Only on the weekends was their shared bed quiet, for then Andy visited his girl friend Mona, sneaking into the bed late, smelling of sex and sweat and beer.
The rocking stopped suddenly. Only an occasional spasm could be felt, or a sob heard. He had finished, and he turned his naked body to Willie and scooped Willies' body into his and they lay together and fell asleep.
As he lay warm and secure in his brothers arms, Willie wished he could be like his brother, open and accepting of his physical needs. Satisfying them in the most primitive way. But, while he was a very sexual person, resolving his worries and problems by losing them in the pleasant worship of his cock, he did so in secret, and only when he was alone.
Though his brother would not believe it if told, Willie was much more sex-driven than Andy was. To Willie, cock-pleasure was what helped him live his life. Helped him to accept the frustrations of his adolescent life.
While Andy played baseball with friends, Willie, alone in the locked bedroom, intoxicated at the vision of himself, naked in the mirror, slowly massaged his nipples and his hairless balls and stiff cock. It was perpetual masturbation, calculated by design to rarely reach a fullfilling climax. The sweet feeling continued for hours as gay fantasies flitted through his mind. Every man he met; the postman, or a teacher at school, or Brad Pitt or Marky Mark, or Mr Hobbs the barber, were all part of the images that thought of as he coaxed the pleasure hidden in his cock to rise to new and greater heights, and then to recede, only to rise again. Those nights, when his brother scooped him into his arms, and he could feel the warm silky flesh on his back, the still hard cock wet from its' spouting, he would pretend his brother was fucking him.
Willie had a job at the super market as a box boy. On a Tuesday afternoon in late June, he was boxing groceries on register #4 when he looked up. He felt his customers' eye upon him, silently demanding attention. Willie was struck by how handsome the man was. Tall and patrician, with a trim muscular body. He could see that the man was bronzed by the sun for his silk shirt was unbuttoned, revealing golden hairs sprinkled across his chest and trickling down a flat stomach. The slacks were of silk too, and clung to the man, revealing the outline of a solid cock riding down his leg. A wave of lust washed over Willie, and to cover his bashful embarrassment, he slipped back to register #5. When the man picked up his parcel, a half smile illuminated his dark face, and he nodded to Willie as he walked past him and out the automatic door. Wille was overcome with a shortness of breath, and drops of sweat appeared on his forehead. Sharp pains coursed his spine, and his only thought was to escape to the mens' room in the back of the store.
As he hurried down the aisle, a woman stopped him. She had a huge cucumber in her hand, and in an obscene gesture, she said, "This reminds me of my first husband."
"What?" he cried.
"Maybe you'd like to come home with me. We could have some fun," she said.
Willie's confusion forced him to bolt through the swinging doors that lead to the stockroom. He could hear the sound of laughter mocking him. Is this some kind of a nightmare, he wondered, as he locked the bathroom door and sat on the toilet. He unzipped his pants and took out his cock. It was hard.
"Ah Jesus!" said Willie, thinking of the tall man with the cock rolling down his leg. Willie slowly stroked himself.
One day in the middle of July, Alex was in his Eden. He lay quietly on the tile floor. He could feel the coolness of it on his bare skin. He ran his fingers over his hanging testicles. His middle finger lingered at the entrance to his asshole. He had shaved the hair that grew in his crack, and the smoothness of his anus excited him.
His finger slipped inside. He was slowly building to an enormous hunger. A hunger that was begging to be satisfied. Deep in his rectum now, his finger rubbed against the sensitive prostate.
He was hot!
So hot that he knew he had to stop. He had to control this passion, for he had planned to stay in his private world for the next few days. 'Make it last' he whispered to himself. 'Enjoy this hot pleasure coming from sensitive jewels, but make it last.'
He got up and walked around the large room, stamping his feet. Control. Yes that was the secret, the only way to prolong the exquisite sensations his cock gave to him, was to stop, rest for a while.
Pouring a little Tanquerey over ice in a crystal glass, he sat back on a chair that was covered with white leather. Soft as gloves, it massaged his back. He spread his legs and looked at his erection. The foreskin had rolled back exposing a piss slit that to smile at him.
Copper pubic hair surrounded his erection and swirled down over his hanging balls, an abundant apron keeping the precious cum warm, and ready for love. Tentatively, he caressed his cock, continuing the pleasure. Yes this was his heaven.
He sipped the luscious gin, warming his insides, and he forced his horny mind to relax, and the need to ejaculate began to recede. He smiled. He knew he could recall it anytime he wanted to.
He reached to a little box on the table. The mirrored walls parted, revealing a T V screen showing two figures. An older man and a young boy were making love. The man lay on his back while the boy, kneeling beside him, kissed his naked body. There were shadows and highlights flickering over the two figures, illuminating secret places for only a moment, and then moving to other secret places. The slow gradual enhancement of pleasure transferred itself from the screen to Alex, who by now was, again high on the plateau of sex-need.
The T V screen showed the boy loving the mans' cock now. His face radiated his servitude and pleasure, as his tongue licked the wet and shining muscle. Alex studied it intently, playing with the foreskin which covered the bulging tip of his cock. He was caught up in the absolute dedicated love reflected on the boys' beardless face as he sucked the cock so deep into his mouth.
Alex felt a sudden loneliness, an unfamiliar longing.
He flipped a button and the T V went off. The soft peach-colored light returned to the room giving it a rosy glow.
He looked at his reflection in the mirror on the ceiling. Something was missing. A sense of emptiness suddenly overwhelmed him. Then, from no where came the vision of the boy at the super market, the one who looked at him so soulfully, with his head down. So bashful, so desireable.
A sense of excitement washed over Alex. What would it be like, he wondered, to have the boy here with him, sharing love? He had never seen anothers' cock, except on screen or in pictures. Never felt the warmth of anothers' smooth flesh upon his. Never tasted the essence of sweet cum.
He rose from the floor, and standing naked in the large room, he thrilled at the thoughts that were flashing through his mind.
"I must have him," he said in a low whisper that sent a shudder of pleasure down his spine.
That same July morning, Willie sat at the table on the patio looking at the garden. It was a lovely day; warm, with a soft breeze that stirred the fragrance of the many flowers in bloom. He sat alone. Mama and Dada had gone away for the weekend, and Andy was off somewhere with Mona. He slipped out of his robe and sat naked in the chair, spreading his long slender legs in front of him.
How beautiful his cock was, gorged with hot blood that stretched the elastic skin. He played long fingers over it, touching, ever so gently, the loose foreskin, slipping it over the ridge of the glans. He watched the piss slit as it changed shape from the manipulations, and he inserted the tip of his finger into it.
The cockhead was sensitive to the touch and emanated an exciting pleasure with each soft trace of pliable fingers. His hand slipped to his balls, sparse of fuzzy hair. He knew they were full of luscious sperm for he had not allowed himself to climax for several days. He was saving it for a long session tonight, after he finished his shift at the market. His excitement intensified as he thought of what he would do fucking the dildo into his asshole, and stretching his lean body until his tongue touched the hot swollen meat, kissing his cock and then sucking it into his mouth.
"Oh Jesus!" he said rising quickly from the chair. He stamped around the patio, his bare feet warmed by the concrete. "Oh Jesus!" he almost came. He had to hold off. "Don't come now," he told himself.
He took a cold shower, pulled on his jeans and t-shirt, slipped into soft and well-worn Nikes, and went to work.
He liked his job boxing groceries. It brought him in contact with people. People he didn't have to speak to. He liked the male customers. Now that summer had come with its' hot weather, they wore skimpy shorts and unbuttoned shirts. Some even wore no shirts at all. He loved to compare their bodies. The hair, the nipples, the belly buttons fascinated him, and the bulging baskets were a constant wonderment, as he imagined what lay hidden beneath the thin fabric of the clothes they wore. There were times when one, recognizing Willie's interest, would sidle up to him, or touch his hand with a smile or invitation, but Willie always turned away in confusion. He was too bashful and inexperienced to do that which he wanted to do.
That afternoon when Willie got to work he was told to go into the parking lot to gather up all the shopping carts that had been left there by customers. It was almost evening, but since it was June, the sun was still high above the horizon. The day was cloudless, and there seemed to have been little wind.
There was a red Corvette parked at the far end of the parking lot, by some trees. He walked over toward it, to retrieve several baskets.
"Hello Willie, I've been waiting for you." The voice was deep and rich.
At first Willie didn't know who was speaking to him, or where the voice was coming from. Then the door of the red sports car opened and a tall lean man unfolded his legs and bent his head. Slouching his way out of the car, he stood beside it. Willie looked up at him, startled by the voice, though the melodic timbre was anything but harsh.
He felt the jolt of a thrill as he recognized the customer. A shock of pleasure threaded its' way down his spine as it had done before, when he felt the mans' eyes upon him. Over the past month, since he had graduated from high school and took this job for the summer, he had seen this man only a few times, yet he remembered each time vividly. In his dreams he elaborated the details to marvelously exciting fantasies.
The man was smiling now. The expression on his handsome face was open and friendly. Wearing only walking shorts and sandals, he was bare above the waist, a condition that weakened Willie's knees as he looked at him, saying nothing. Words were lost in the shock of recognition.
Having been alone on his patio that morning, had primed him to the point that even a bare wrist or ankle was enough to send the blood rushing to his cock, and here was this man, the idol of his current games and fantasies, standing before him. Bronze muscular shoulders. A deep chest punctuated by swollen nipples. Golden, copper-colored hair scattered over tanned skin, trickling down a flat tight stomach. Confusion and excitement and bashfulness reigned over Willie now, but his need was so primary and demanding that the bashfulness drifted away, and he looked at the mans' twinkling eyes, deep pools of desert blue. He was encouraged by the relaxed smile and said, "What?"
"I've been waiting for you, Willie."
But confusion still hovered over Willie, and even though he realized he should say more, should answer in some intelligent way, he merely said, "What?"
The man recognized the boys' confusion and chuckled almost indulgently to himself. 'This boy is an answer to a dream.'
"My name is Alex, Willie, and I've been waiting for you. I knew you'd come out for the carts. I want to talk to you. Alone. Away from all the people."
"What do you want?"
Alex paused a moment thinking how much he wanted this fresh virginal boy. He had decided on a plan on how he was to get him to his Eden. Without hesitation he said, "Well, I'm a photographer working on a project that needs pictures of a young man. You know, a model, and you're the type I need. I'd like to take some pictures of you," he hesitated, and the boy looked quizzically at him. "I'll pay you," he added, "Lots more than you make here."
Willie thought about that, his mind moving in a slow process, eliminating those elements that were negative to the suggestion. In his state, he wanted to go with the man for whatever purpose, but his first reaction to the proposal was a sudden disappointment. He didn't understand the letdown, but it was there. Apparently the reason of the mans' approaching him was a legitimate one. In Willie's fantasies it would be something more exciting.
"Well, I don't know. I guess I could. I'm working now you know, and then tomorrow's Saturday, so.........."
A smile flashed across Alex's face, like a father giving advice to his son. "It's all arranged, Willie. I talked to Crawford. He's the manager you know. You're to come back to work Tuesday. At noon." Alex reached into his pocket and handed Willie a slip of paper. "Here's your paycheck for this week. So leave the carts. He'll send someone else out for them, and get in the car, I've got a deadline on these pictures.
Willie had planned to have a long stroking session that night. It was not often than his parents were gone for the weekend leaving him alone. Yet his disappointment faded. There was an excitement emanating from this man as he fondled his swollen nipples, his shorts bulged with a precious treasure. There was an animal scent about him. An undercurrent of rising lust swept disappointment away. A tremor flashed over the whole of Willie's body as he slipped into the leather seat of the red Corvette, and it sped up the hill to Eden.
The soft peach-colored lights had no visible source, and reflected a seductive glow. The boy had never in all his dreams expected a room surrounded by mirrors. He was overwhelmed by the sleek luxury. There were no conflicts here, instead there was the sense of exciting adventures to come.
A camera was on a tripod surrounded by lights that were not yet lit. Alex had prepared for his little ruse.
"Let's relax a bit," he said, handing the boy a can of iced beer, "Tell me about yourself. How old are you, Willie?"
"Eighteen."
"Ah, so young," Alex thought to himself, such innocence was beguiling, and he thought of the video he had of the young boy loving the man. He felt a rush of blood though his loins.
They spoke of unimportant things that were outside the circle of each of their hidden needs. Alex took a joint from the silver box, and after lighting it and inhaling a great gust of smoke, he passed it to Willie, who took it without comment. 'The boy had used it before,' he mused to himself, it was quality grass, and he knew the boy was ready.
"We're doing some fashion pictures for Fugama jeans, briefs and T-shirts." He lead Willie into the bathroom. Hanging on a hook were a few clothes that were obviously new.
"Let's try these stretch jeans and this t-shirt," he said. "I'll set the lights while you change," and he closed the door as he left, giving the boy his privacy.
The clothing was several sizes too small, and Willie had to struggle to fit his lanky body into it. There was a gap left between the clinging jeans and the t-shirt of six to eight inches. It exposed his navel. He felt a tremor of excitement at the thought of having his picture taken while he was dressed like that, or was it that Alex would see him dressed like that, half naked, that thrilled him?
Then he saw the picture on the far wall. How could he have missed it before this? It was Alex, life-sized, stark naked. The accent of the picture was on the swollen hard cock. Willie had to pull his eyes away or he would ejaculate a load of sperm. he grabbed the fixtures in the sink to steady himself, and it took several minutes before the rising tide within him receded, so that he could regain his composure.
"How beautiful he is," Willie said, and stealing one more glance at it, he slipped out the door. Alex saw that the boys' cock was erect, caught in the folds of the stretched material of the jeans, and his own erotic blood surged through him sending thrills down his spine.
For the next hour, Alex trained his camera on the gradual undressing of Willie. The boy posed in many attitudes and costumes, and Alex, hunching over the camera, clicked the shutter. It was exciting each of them to the point of carefree lust.
Willie thrived on exhibiting his body, and from the obvious pleasure Alex took from it. He frequently changed his costume, and each time seemed to reveal more and more of his body until now he was posing in a jock strap make of lace. The holes in it were large and obvious, and did little to cover Willies genitals, and Alex placed the camera only inches away so that he could have a close-up of Willies' swollen cock shrouded by the flimsy fishnet.
He was so close to Willies' crotch that he could smell the passion emanating from this most enticing part of him. Alex felt the surge of a spouting that was about to erupt from his own cock. 'Better stop a while,' he thought, 'Hold off the inevitable explosion as long as I can. At least until we are both ready for it.'
So they paused to smoke another joint and sip another beer. After awhile, the beer and the grass took over, and the restraint that inhibited each of them faded away.
'He's ready,' Alex said to himself, 'And so am I.'
He turned off the floodlights and lowered the soft glow of the peach lights by turning a button on the table, and the room became more seductive, and each of them lost their shyness, In an intense moment, he reached to the jock strap that so inadequately covered the boy, and without protest slipped it down over his hips. It fell to the floor, and Willie stood before him, his feet spread apart, his body open and available. He was naked.
Free of clothes, he began to dance around Alex, a wide grin on his face, his hands on his hips, and his cock swaying back and forth. A hypnotic excitement. His naked body, stripped of all entangle- ments, was on fire with lust, a fire that transferred itself to Alex, who unbuttoned his own shorts, and letting them fall to the floor, was naked too, his huge hairy cock reaching out to the almost hairless boy, and they laughed and shouted, loving the freedom that now overwhelmed them, and they approached each other with an eagerness that lost control somewhere, and with arms outstretched, they embraced, rubbing the smooth and hairy skin, one over the other, in a kiss of passion and pleasure and total giving.
The wonderful solitary sex enjoyed by both Alex and Willie, as satisfying as it was, in no way could equal the enormous pleasure the two now enjoyed as they explored each other. Their arms entwined holding each in place, capturing their love, with never a thought to let it go, The glowing warmth of smooth and silky flesh on flesh, the smell of animals in heat, blended with natural body odors, the unexpected tactile pressures on secret and private places, the surprising tenderness of a delicate kiss with soft lips on soft lips, were pleasures that expanded and sharpened, reaching new and further out limits.
"Ah, Sweet Jesus! Sweet Jesus," Willie murmured, almost under his breath, as Alex pulled away from the tender kissing, and washed his tongue, warm and moist with untried passion, down Willies' neck, over his shoulders, into his pits. The acid taste and healthy smell drove Alex on to the rosebud nipples, and down the hairless body, past ribs and belly button, to the long shaft of the erect cock, which seemed much too big for a boy so young.
The restraint that willie had practiced in the past, together with the effect of the grass. gave him the ability to hold off ejaculation.
Alex's mouth first kissed, then sucked the balls. He led his tongue up the shaft. It sensed the protruding blood vessels that surrounded it, and the ecstatic throbbing of the cock itself. The foreskin eased back and Willie could feel the wet tongue and gentle sucking as Alex took the whole of the cock into his mouth, then let it slip out, then swallowed it again and again.
The pleasure grew in intensity, and Willie gave himself to the enormous passion that was rapidly rising to a level never reached before. The exquisite touch of the active wet tongue on his sensitive cock was beyond anything Willie had experienced or ever dreamed, and turning his head, he looked into the mirror and watched this beautiful man make love to his cock. And with a convulsive lurch of his hips, he drove his cock even deeper into Alex's throat, and the rush of cum spurted into it, in a thrilling orgasm.
The luscious sperm splashed into Alex's throat, and the force of the ejaculation struck the back of it, sending a sharp pleasure down his spine causing him to ejaculate too, spilling his cream onto the floor.
When it was over, the final drops having emptied the reservoir that had held them, they clung one to the other, each afraid of separation, of being alone again. And they kissed tender kisses until sapped energies were renewed, and they began once more to taste forbidden pleasures consumating all the hungers and desires that had consumed them in their lonely lives. Never to be lonely again.
Ah Sweet Jesus!
joe wilson
I hope you liked this story If you did, please let me know wilson583@aol.com