Bagged Boy
The store I shop for my food supplies in, has a new service. They've hired a crew of young guys, to bag groceries, and to help customers out to their cars. You can also use an online shopping list, and the items will be delivered to your house by one of the kids in a van. I'm a writer, and sometimes getting myself together to go out food shopping is a pain in the butt, so I decided to try this new service.
I found the site on the Net, and quickly typed my list. When I mailed it, it only took a minute, before my writing was interrupted with an eMail message. I took it, and it was from the store asking if I would be home for a delivery in thirty minutes. This was cool. I couldn't believe how easy it was. I eMailed back that I would be home, and decided I'd better take a shower and put on some clothes. I usually write in the nude. My stuff is mostly gay porn, and writing in the nude keeps me in the mood to write descriptive sex scenes. I put on a pair of shorts, and a tee shirt, and had just slipped into my sandals when the door bell rang.
The young man standing on the porch, with two bags under his arms was smiling. His blue and red striped bowtie and matching cap, made me smile.
"Come on in." I opened the door and backed up so he could enter. "The kitchen's in there." I pointed, and he followed me into my tiny kitchen.
"Do you want me to put things away for you?" He was still smiling broadly.
"Is that part of the service?" He nodded, and pulled the bottle of milk out of the first bag. "Sure, go ahead." He popped open the fridge, and found a place for the milk. He didn't say anything about the mess of open and uncovered food items on the shelves.
Half way through putting the food away, he stopped, and looked at me. "So, what do you do that you're home during the day?"
"I write."
"Really? Anything I might know?"
"I doubt it, you're probably too young to even buy my stuff."
"I'm nineteen. What is it, adult fiction?"
"Yeah, that's it, adult fiction." He raised up from putting a bottle of dish soap under the sink, and smiled at me again.
"How about letting me have something you've written. I like to read."
"Oh, I don't think so. Most likely not your kind of thing."
"What does that mean?"
"What it means," I decided to be blunt. "I write gay fuck books."
"Geez. Really?" He folded the two empty bags, and laid them on the counter. "Do you save these, or shall I take them with me?"
"You can keep `em." He tucked the folded bags under his arm, and looked at me expectantly. I realized he wanted a tip.
"What's usual in this case? I haven't used this service before."
"Usual is five bucks, but I'd really like to have something you've written.
I'm curious." I took a deep breath.
"Look kid, if I give you something, and you get caught with it by your parents, I'll get charged with corrupting a minor."
"I told you I'm not a minor. The store can't hire minors to drive their vans." He pulled out his billfold, and showed me his driver's license. "My parents won't catch me, because I have my own place. Not much, but I like it. Besides, my folks live in another state."
"If you're sure you want it, I'll let you have a copy of my most recent book."
"Thanks man. I appreciate it." I gave him the book, and a five buck tip as well, and showed him to the door. I went back to work and forgot about him.
About six that evening, I got an eMail message from the store. I wondered what it was about, and opened it.
WOW! READ HOT BOOK, WOULD LIKE TO TALK TO YOU MORE! STEVE:-)
I mailed back a question mark, and asked why he was shouting at me.
VERY EXCITING STUFF! WANT TO TALK TO YOU ABOUT IT TONIGHT
CAN I COME OVER SOON? STEVE:-)
I thought about it for a while, and wondered what good could come of it. Maybe he wanted to become a writer. Maybe he just wanted a blowjob. I wasn't sure I wanted to get involved. I was still thinking when another massage came through for me.
PLEASE MAN! TOO HORNY FOR WORDS! WANT YOU TO DO ME! STEVE:-)
Jesus christ! What if his boss checked outgoing eMail messages. I had to get this kid off my address before all hell broke loose.
STOP SHOUTING AT ME! no more of previous talk on net lines. come by after work, we'll talk. :-(
I hoped he'd get that I wasn't happy about this. It must have been quitting time when he eMailed me, because he was ringing my doorbell in ten minutes. He wasn't wearing his cute little bowtie and cap this time, but instead, had on a skin tight tee shirt, and a pair of cutoffs barely with enough material to be attached at the crotch. I thought I could see the tip of his dick peeking out from the ragged edge of his shorts.
"Steve! That was quick. Come on in." He strolled past me, with my book in his hand.
"Can I get you something to drink?"
"How about one of those beers I delivered this morning?"
"O.K. Just a sec." I went to the frige, and returned to the living room with two beers. He was sitting on the couch, and I could definitely see the head of his prick peeking out of his shorts. My dick started to thicken up.
I spend most of my time writing, and don't get out much. My sex life stinks if you want to know the truth. I handed him his beer can, and sat down on the opposite end of the couch. He took the can, and immediately scooted over next to me.
"Do you have sex with lots of guys?" His question was blunt and a little naive. I guessed it was his inexperience speaking.
"Oh yeah, all my stories are true. I've lived every fucking scene in them."
"Wow. The stuff you write is so hot, I've been hard all day just reading about it. You really have twelve inches?"
"Me? no, how did you get that idea?" He flipped through the book.
"It's right here on page fifty-nine. See." He started reading out loud. "I took my twelve inch man club, and forced it into the kid's sucking mouth..."
"Wait a minute," I interrupted him. "That's, uh...That's er poetic license. Yeah, that's it, poetic license." He looked at me for a brief moment, with his mouth open, his sweet full lips red with youth.
"Then how big are you?" He dropped the book, and groped my basket. I grabbed his hand, and we struggled for a second.
"Come on Steve. Stop it."
"I just want to know how big you are." He struggled for a moment longer with my fist wrapped tightly around his wrist. I could see his chin begin to tremble. I let him go, and his hand quickly went back to groping my basket, and my stupid cock began to respond. He stroked me, and smiled as my dick grew harder.
"Can I see it?" He started tugging at my belt. "I've never seen a man's hardon before. Yours will be my first." He unbuckled my belt, and I felt powerless to stop him. He lowered my zipper, and my naked dick came into view.
"Wow man. It's big enough." He reached in and took my hardness in his soft hand, his fingers closed around my girth, not quite reaching completely around me. He stroked it a few times, and I sighed.
"I've never had sex with a man before. What's it like? If it's half as hot as you describe it in your book, I'd like to do it with you."
"Have you ever had sex with a girl Steve?"
"Yeah, once. This chic I picked up right after I bought my car. She sucked my dick, but I didn't cum. She was afraid I'd do it in her mouth. That's my only experience so far." He was examining my boner with great intensity, and I noticed his prick head, had grown enough to push itself a good four inches out of his shorts.
"Are you horny Steve?"
"Man, I'm horny morning noon and night. I must jerk off half a dozen times a day. Sex is all I think about anymore."
"So then, what would you like to do with me?"
"Can you teach me to suck cock like a fag? I really want to know how to do it right." I nodded, breathing heavy, enjoying his hand massaging my cock.
Let's go to the bedroom. I've got everything we might need in there. I led the way, pulling him along behind me by my grip on his hard handle of flesh poking out of his shorts.
"That's the first time a guy has ever touched my dick. I was almost about to cum in your hand." He smiled at me. "So what do we do first?" I told him to strip, and I did as well. On the bed, I told him I wanted to suck his cock first, so he could get the idea of how it was done, and then he could suck mine if he still wanted to.
I took his sweet eight inch shaft in my hand, and got up onto my knees over it. He laid there, propped on the pillows and watched my every move like a hawk. When I swallowed him to the core, he twisted on the bed, and arched his hips and drove himself deeper into my mouth. He put his hand on my head, and started fucking my mouth like crazy. He wasn't long in cumming, and when he did, he made an odd strangled sound, and pumped shot after shot of his sweet cream into me. I drank and sucked every drop he had to offer. When I finished, he relaxed, but his prick showed no signs of deflating.
"Man that was fantastic." He traded places with me, and I saw instantly he'd been a good student. I didn't feel his teeth once, and he had a glorious time sucking me to ejaculation. I warned him I was about to shoot in case he didn't want it in his mouth, but he dived to the bottom, and I blew my load in his sucking throat. He rode the waves of cum, up and down my shaft, draining every possible dribble out of me. When he realized my cock was through, and going soft, he seemed disappointed. His stick was still hard and ready.
I showed him how to put a rubber on properly, and how to prepare my butthole to receive his shaft, and I let him fuck me for hours. He must have cum four more times, and when he was finally finished, and sated, he laid on my chest, stroking me and kissing me like a kid in love.
"Thanks," he said finally. "You've been a real friend tonight. I've been so fucking lonely living in my apartment alone, I didn't know what I'd do if I had to spend another night alone." He kissed me again. "Can I stop by and see you at night after I get off at the store?"
"Sure Steve. You have been a wonderful distraction. I could use the attention as well. God knows I spend too much time alone here writing."
"Good," he said, jumping up with all the energy of the world and pulling his shorts on over his still semi erect cock. "Tomorrow night, I want you to fuck me. I want to learn everything you write about. Everything." He bent and kissed me again, and then was out the door of the bedroom. I heard him help himself to another beer, and then the front door opening and closing.
That was two weeks ago, and tonight, he's begging me to teach him how to take a fist. This kid is a fast mover, and will probably wear me out before it's over, but I do love to see his smiling face every time I open the door.
My dick is hard, just waiting for him to ring the bell tonight. He should be here any minute now.
End