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CHAPTER 2, Version B (You chose: Steve will yield to his desires)
The dorm was almost empty during Spring Break. The few friends Steve had made at college had gone home or to Florida for the traditional spring break revelry. His room mate had gone home to Long Island. Going home to Utah was out of the question since his parents were scrimping to pay college expenses and couldn't afford plane fare. His room mate invited him to his house for the week but he declined. His room mate's constant arrogance and subtle insults about living on a farm in "Indian territory" was intolerable even in small doses. Spending a week with him would be more than Steve could endure.
Months before, Steve had looked forward to the peace and quiet of Christmas Break after a grueling period of classes and far more homework than he had expected. Being alone at Christmas time was difficult but he caught up on his homework and even got ahead in the assigned reading. He spent some time, in spite of the cold weather, as a tourist, exploring a rich variety of the big city attractions—at least those he could afford. Spring break, however, being shorter and warmer, promised to be more enjoyable.
By Wednesday, however, boredom crept in. Steve had finished all his course assignments and could do no more until the profs laid on more. He had even read a couple of books for pleasure that he hadn't had time to get to. What would he do that evening? He had a wicked thought. He would do something that he had always wanted to do but never had the opportunity.
He took the subway down to Times Square. At that time 42nd street hosted a number of adult book stores and small theaters showing X-rated films. Steve intended to see a porno movie but after roaming around for a long time, he saw from the marquees and posters that all the films featured women, sometimes servicing men and sometimes each other. That's not what he wanted.
Steve had researched what little there was to be found about homosexuality in the high school library but the library had been "cleansed." The college library was much more helpful and he learned that there were men out there like him. However, almost all of them hid their true identity from the public. One day, Steve hoped, he would find one.
Having given up on the movie theaters, Steve ventured into an adult book store. Perhaps he could find something there to interest him
After ten minutes, it was clear that he would not find what he was looking for. There were some dildos and other toys that Steve found fascinating but the prices were unbelievably high. The magazines were also pricey but he would have paid for one if it was what he was looking for. He walked out of the store disappointed and frustrated. After roaming around Times Square for a while just to kill time he took the subway back to 116th Street.
Back in the dorm, Steve showered off the city grim. Taking advantage of the vacant shower room in the largely deserted dormitory, he leisurely jerked off. It was still early, not quite ten, but Steve climbed into bed and fell asleep wishing he had found what he was looking for downtown.
The next day was warm. Steve put on gym shorts, tee shirt, and sneakers and walked over to Riverside Park to enjoy the weather and a good book. He hoped that a little reading would dispel his loneliness. He found a grassy area, stripped off his shirt to restore his faded tan, and lay down on his stomach to read.
Several minutes later, Steve was startled by a voice right next to him. "That must be a very good book," it said.
Steve looked up and saw a teenager sitting on the grass next to him. He had the complexion, jet-black hair, and features of a Latino. He wore no shirt, only baggy shorts and worn sneakers with no socks. But it was his face that captured Steve's attention. Dark eyes sparkled from under arched brows and a half-smile that signaled a friendly nature.
"I called to you twice, mister. But you didn't answer," boy said.
"Sorry," Steve apologized. "I guess I was wrapped up in my book."
The boy glanced at the book and asked, "You like mysteries?"
"Once in a while, yes," Steve responded while wondering why the young teen had interrupted him.
"I do, too," he grinned. "But I don't get much of a chance to read."
"And why's that?" Steve asked.
His expression turned suddenly sour. "Too busy," he said as he cast his eyes to the ground.
"Busy?" Steve asked. "What keeps you so busy?"
The suddenly nervous teen stalled, pulling up few blades of grass and rolling them in his fingers. "Whatever I can do to earn a few dollars. That's why I came over to talk to you. But I see I'm disturbing you so I'll leave you alone."
He stood up to leave but Steve's curiosity was aroused. "Wait," Steve said. "You don't have to go. In fact, I would enjoy having someone to talk to. Sit down."
The boy sat down, cross-legged this time. Steve couldn't help but see up the leg of his baggy shorts. He had no underwear and the tip of an uncut cock was plainly visible. Steve quickly averted his eyes, a habit Steve had practiced for a long time, but the image remained in his mind, eliciting thoughts he couldn't suppress. It was then that Steve became aware of his visitor's body: thin but not skinny, firm but not muscular, and dark nipples contrasting with his tawny skin. The young man wouldn't turn heads but was nevertheless handsome.
Although Steve had tried to be discreet, the length of his gaze and his failure to say anything must have revealed his thoughts because the stranger smiled and asked, "Like what you see, mister?"
The question threw Steve's mind into a spin. He groped frantically for something to say that would explain or excuse the thoughtless and dangerous behavior. Nothing came to mind so he stammered, "I was just admiring your nice-looking body, that's all." Steve immediately regretted saying that. It's not the sort of thing one says to another guy, much less a stranger.
But the young man raised the stakes by asking "Want to see more?" Without waiting for an answer, he pulled the leg of his shorts back to give an unobstructed view of his cock that hung invitingly across a pendulant ball sack.
Alarms sounded in Steve's head. The young man was obviously coming on to him. If he accepted his implied offer, he would reveal for the first time ever that he was queer. Instinctively, he retreated by saying, "What makes you think I'd be interested in seeing more?"
"Hunch," the grinning boy said. "Maybe hope. When I saw you here reading, I liked what I saw. So I called to you and then came over. Then I saw how you looked me over. I've had a lot of experience. I've come to know when a guy is interested in me. I think you are. Am I wrong?"
Steve was not ready to admit his interest but he was tempted. He was on the verge of saying, "No! I'm not interested!" But the words never made it out of his mouth because the teen hiked up his pants leg and briefly fondled himself. It was brief but enough to cause a rapid inflation of Steve's cock.
"Nice cock," Steve said without thinking. Suddenly filled with terror, he realized that he had confirmed his fascination with the tempting rod of flesh that the young teen so blatantly displayed.
Encouraged, the hustler quickly got down to business. "I can give you a blow job. Or you can fuck me. I like your looks so I'll give you a bargain rate."
Steve marshaled his senses and asked, "Is that how you earn your money?" By selling your body to anybody with cash?"
It was not meant as an insult him but the teen obviously took it that way. "Hey!" he said defiantly. "It's better than selling drugs. My neighborhood is full of dealers and junkies. I want no part of that. If I can make men happy, isn't that better than ruining the lives of drug addicts and risking my own life at the same time?"
"I apologize," Steve said. "I didn't mean to insult you. I didn't know what kind of life you faced. Forgive me?"
"Okay," he said. "But how about my offer? You wanna have some good sex?"
Steve did indeed want to have some good sex. He had wanted it for years. And this young man was not only willing but good looking. He was fairly articulate and showed unusual initiative in approaching a stranger. Steve's acute loneliness and the disappointment in Times Square the previous night had disarmed his habitual aversion to seeking carnal pleasure. His craving for intimate male contact was near its peak before the teen interrupted his reading in the park. But when the stranger enticingly displayed his manhood Steve's inhibitions evaporated. This was an opportunity for real sex.
He would have preferred sex with someone other than a hustler but Steve knew all too well that he may not have that chance for a very long time if at all. He was at a fork in the road but didn't even consider the option of maintaining chastity. The road that opened up to him was simply too enticing. "How much?" Steve inquired.
The lad quoted a price and quickly added, "That's half of what I usually charge but you've got a sexy body."
"I have a problem," Steve said regretfully. "I don't have any money to spare." Steve hated having to turn down his offer. Just looking at the sexy, willing young man made him horny as hell.
"Too bad," he groaned. "I guess I'll have to find somebody else. But they won't be as good looking as you."
Steve didn't want him to walk away. Even if he couldn't afford his price, he would enjoy the company of a handsome young man for a while. "The best I can do is to buy you a good meal. Will you join me for lunch? I'd really like the company."
The boy scowled and said, "I'm not giving you sex for just a meal, mister!"
"I didn't mean it that way," Steve said. "The fact is, I'd like to have company for lunch. No obligation for sex. How about it?"
The truth was that Steve did want company—someone to talk to—but his insatiable curiosity wanted to find out more about why a young man was selling his body.
The teen thought briefly and said, "Okay. I haven't had a good meal for a few days."
Steve realized that they could not talk about his life and "occupation" in a restaurant so he suggested, "How about we get a carry-out and come back here to the park for a picnic?"
"Sounds good," the young man said. "Most places won't serve me anyway because of the way I'm dressed. Some get downright mean about telling me to leave."
They walked to a nearby McDonald's. At the door, Steve asked, "What would you like?"
"You're buying, mister. You choose. Surprise me."
Steve bought two big Macs, two large fries, a large drink, and an apple pie for his guest. Steve settled on a cheeseburger and a drink because there was not enough cash for more.
The teen's eyes nearly popped when he saw the size of the sack Steve walked out with but he made no comment. They returned to the park, found a shady spot, and settled down on the grass. Steve handed his new friend the larger sack.
"That's all mine?" the boy asked incredulously. "You're not hungry or are you really broke?"
"Both," Steve said. The broke part was true. Steve was hungry but his companion needed food more than he did.
The young man devoured his food without stopping to talk, which seemed to confirm that he hadn't eaten for days. Steve nibbled on his sandwich and sipped at his drink while a thousand questions popped into his mind. What drove a young teen to hustling? What kind of family did he have? Did he live on the streets? If so, how did he cope?
When he finally finished, he said, "Thanks, mister. I feel a lot better now. You're really nice to buy my lunch ... and not expecting sex, I mean."
"Well," Steve said. "There's one thing you can do for me. I'm curious about why you do what you do. Would you tell me about yourself?"
Steve couldn't interpret the curious expression his question elicited and he began to worry that he was prying into something the boy didn't want to talk about. But his concern was short-lived when the young hustler began to speak. "You probably don't know what it's like living in public housing in the Bronx," he began. "Drugs. Crime. Gangs. Poverty. Going to school was the highlight of my day. At least it was reasonably safe. That is, until the kids in school found out I was queer. I could live with them calling me names but they started beating up on me. I dropped out of school. I couldn't tell my parents the real reason because they would hate me, too. For being queer. So I told my folks I was joining the army and left."
"Are you old enough to join the Army?" Steve asked. "You look no more than sixteen years old."
"No. I'm seventeen. But it's easy to get fake ID. They tried to talk me out of it. I said I didn't want to end up like my brothers. I've got two older brothers. One is in prison for dealing drugs. The other was killed before the cops could bust him. Mom was upset that I was leaving but dad understood. He said he was proud of me for not being like my brothers." He paused and frowned before continuing. "He wouldn't be proud of me now if he knew what I'm doing."
"So how long have you been on the street?" Steve asked.
"About three months," he replied. "The first week or two was the worst but then I learned how to attract men who want what I want. I'm not bragging when I say I can give them some really terrific sex." He paused and looked at Steve as if to see whether the `really terrific sex' comment might entice him to pay his price.
NOTE: This is a modified excerpt from a much longer story "The Virgin and the Hustler" previously posted on this site.
End of Chapter 2, Version B ___________________________________
Steve will soon face a choice of roads to follow: gratify his lust or refuse an offer of sex.
Now you, the reader, must make a choice. How do you want the story to end?
If you think Steve will resist the opportunity to have sex and to be true to his values, read Chapter 3-B-1
If you think he will yield to his desires, read Chapter 3-B-2 ___________________________________