Hey guys, here's one that begins with a grain of personal experience and ends the way I wish it would have in real life. I'll warn you it starts a little slow, but I promise it has a big finish. I'm planning on making it a short series of a few chapters if it gets a decent reception, so let me know what you think!
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My first job out of college was in Houston, Texas. Not exactly my dream location but it paid pretty decent money. I had a nice enough apartment in a big complex in the near southwest, just outside the Loop, shared with my straight buddy Rob who I knew from school. He was okay with me being gay. To him it only meant I wouldn't be competing with him for the girls.
After more than a year in town, I'm ashamed to say I hadn't really entered the gay scene. Houston was the first place I'd ever lived that was big enough to actually have a gay scene and I was more than a little bit intimidated by the whole thing. I hadn't made any gay friends so I didn't have anybody to go to the bars with, or do gay activities or whatever. My social life consisted mainly of tagging along with Rob to the straight clubs so he'd have somebody to hang out with until he found a girl to drag home, and scoring the occasional desperate hookup with random guys from the apps.
One Friday night as usual Rob and I were out till the bars closed. He ran into a girl he knew and she invited him to go home with her so I went home alone. I pulled into the lot, parked my car and strolled through the complex toward our apartment. It was a ghost town that time of night.
As I passed by the pool I saw somebody stretched out on one of the lounge chairs, a young guy no more than twenty, arms folded across his chest to keep warm. The way he was dressed, he looked like he'd escaped from a 1980s music video. He wore a bright white denim jacket with studs and zippers and the sleeves torn off and no shirt underneath, open all the way down the front to show off an impressive lineup of pecs and abs. Tight black jeans and a studded leather belt. Black cowboy boots with silver toe tips. A bushy head of hair like corn silk, and more on his beefy forearms, and a small wispy patch of it on his chest. I walked right by him and our eyes met and just for a second we traded a look of recognition.
I knew instantly he was a hustler. This wasn't really the part of town for it but I'd seen a couple now and again, hanging out in front of the 7-Eleven a few blocks away. I figured one of my neighbors had picked him up for a quick fuck and now he didn't have any way of getting back to where he belonged.
Once I was inside the apartment I couldn't quite settle down and go to bed. I kept thinking about that guy at the pool. It was October, not all that cold but chillier than I'd ever want to spend a night outdoors without a shirt. And it wasn't exactly the safest place to sleep either; anybody could just wander in off the street. "Fuck it," I said out loud, and strode out the door.
He saw me coming, watched me every step of the way. I had no idea what I was doing but thank God for the liquid courage left over in my system. I stepped right up to the lounge chair and squatted down beside him.
"Don't you have anyplace to sleep?" I asked.
"Nah, not really."
"Well look, if you stay here the security guards'll find you and kick you out. I can show you a better place if you want."
"Okay."
"Bring the chair."
He picked up the lounge chair and followed me; it was cheap shit pool furniture that didn't weight anything at all. I led him back to my apartment and through the privacy gate. Each of the first floor units had its own little patch of grass in front surrounded by a seven-foot redwood fence that allowed them to be advertised as "garden apartments." I showed him the yard and told him he could sleep there and nobody'd give him any trouble. As he set up the chair I ducked inside and brought him out a blanket.
"I'd ask you in, but I don't know you, and..."
"No, I get it," he said, with the cutest East Texas accent. "You're being smart."
"If you're still around in the morning I'll make you breakfast. That's my bedroom, you can tap on the window to wake me up. My name's Grady, by the way."
He reached out and shook my hand. "Thanks, Grady. I mean it. I'm Tyler."
Not gonna lie, as much as I told myself I was just being charitable and trying to do the right thing, as soon as I rolled into bed my dick was in my hand and I stroked it to one of the quickest orgasms ever. That very first look he gave me by the pool, and the way he said "Thanks, Grady..." Holy fuck.
I woke up around ten, and the first thing I did was peek through the blinds to see if Tyler was still around. All I saw was the blanket rumpled up in a ball on the lounge chair. My heart kinda sank... but after I finished my shower and stepped outside to straighten things up, there he was by the fence doing pushups in the grass. Completely shirtless now, and completely gorgeous in the light of day. He looked up at me and smiled.
"Hey," he said.
"Hey. Hungry?"
"Starving!"
"Well, come on then."
He grabbed the blanket, folded it up neatly and followed me. Nice guy for a street hustler, I thought. Once inside he looked all around the place like it was a museum or something. Like he didn't spend much time in regular people's houses.
"You can grab a shower if you want, while I get breakfast ready," I told him.
"Thanks, that'd be great!"
I grabbed a clean towel from my bedroom while he pulled off his boots and socks. When I went back into the bathroom to hand it over his clothes were in a heap on the floor and he was stark naked with the door wide open -- guys in his business aren't shy. I tried not to stare but for that first moment I couldn't help myself; he was beautiful from head to toe. A classic muscleboy body, a flat out amazing ass, and a nice meaty cock dangling over a juicy-looking pair of low-hanging balls. He glanced back at me for just a second with that very same look he'd given me last night, thanked me again and stepped into the shower.
I laid the towel on the counter for him, held my breath as he turned on the water and started scrubbing himself down. The visual that popped into my head -- of his gorgeous body soaking wet and covered with suds -- was impossible to ignore.
"God, this feels good. Oh my fucking God..." His voice came from somewhere deep in his gut. For a moment I wondered if it was an invitation... but I didn't want to take the chance. I'd started out with the idea of being a nice guy and I didn't want to ruin it now.
"Hey Tyler," I called out, "your clothes are pretty grungy, okay if I throw `em in the wash?"
"Sure, please do!"
So I picked his clothes up off the floor and fired up the mini washing machine in the laundry closet. I went through his pockets to be sure I didn't wash anything I shouldn't -- nothing but two condoms, a packet of lube, a couple breath mints, and a twenty dollar bill. Jesus, was that all he got paid? Or did he get stiffed? Tossed in the jeans and the socks, resisted the urge to sniff his briefs and threw those in too. Went straight to my bedroom and hid my wallet, and shut the door to Rob's bedroom so the guy wouldn't go wandering in. Holy fuck, if Rob knew I had a street kid in here, he'd absolutely shit.
And then I ducked into the kitchen and started whipping up a feast of eggs, bacon, home fries, toast with butter and honey. If he only had one chance at a decent meal today I wanted to be sure he didn't miss out. He stayed in the shower a long time, no surprise. I was almost done cooking when the water shut off. I heard the shower door slide open and called out to him.
"Hey, I put a T-shirt and shorts out for ya, you can wear `em till your stuff is dry."
No reply, but I was sure he heard me. I listened for a moment, almost went looking to see what he was up to... and there he came strolling in fresh and clean, wearing only the shorts, no shirt. He looked so damn handsome my heart must've skipped three beats.
"Guess you didn't like the T-shirt?"
He smirked. "Not my style." I wasn't sure if he meant the shirt itself or shirts in general, but I had no complaints.
"Have a seat on the sofa, I'll be done here in a minute. Turn on the TV if you want, there should be some college games starting up about now."
"Oh cool," he said. "I don't get a chance to see TV much."
He found the remote and settled in, flipped the channels until he hit ESPN. I watched him from behind the kitchen counter. He seemed so relaxed and at ease, I could've gazed at him for hours. Last night at the pool he looked like a wild animal, a little fierce, a little afraid, and yearning for... what? There was so much I wanted to ask him.
"How long have you been living... like..."
He glanced back at me. "On the street? I got thrown outta my house just over two years ago, the day after I turned seventeen. Came out to my folks for my birthday, and my dad told me to get out. My mom said he shouldn't toss me out on my birthday but she was okay with him doin' it the next day. Went to a buddy's house for a couple nights but his folks didn't want me around, `specially when they found out why. So I hitched my way here."
"From?"
"Beaumont. Know where that is? About ninety miles east. My dad worked at the refinery. Still does I guess, but he's dead now, far as I'm concerned."
I piled the food onto two huge plates, brought them out and set them on the coffee table. Went back for knives and forks and a couple big glasses of orange juice, and sat down beside him.
"Lot of places are hiring these days, have you tried..."
"Brother, I got no address. No phone number. Nothin' to wear to a job interview. Didn't even graduate high school. Who's gonna hire me? I was plannin' to go to college, that's all fucked now."
"Where do you sleep?"
He sighed. "The park. Under the freeway overpass, if it's rainin'. Anywhere, pretty much. Can we talk about somethin' else?"
"Sure. Sorry. I only..."
"I know."
We dug into the meal. I watched him out of the corner of my eye, the way his biceps flexed as he shoveled it in, the way his jaw worked as he chewed and swallowed, the satisfied look in his eyes. His bare torso inches away from me on the sofa, a little damp from the shower and glimmering in the morning light, dripped with sensuality and sex. His skin was ungodly perfect.
"You're in amazing shape," I told him, when I couldn't hold it in any longer. "How do you..."
"I got a cheap gym membership, twenty bucks a month. I can shower there, and I keep some clothes in a locker."
"So you pretty much hang out there in the daytime?"
"Sometimes... are we talking about that again?"
"Sorry. Just curious. Are you done? Still hungry?"
"I'm fine, that was great. Thank you. Best meal I ever had." He arched his back, lazily stretched his shoulders and chest, and gazing at that body I could scarcely breathe.
"Cool." I gathered up our plates and silverware and took them to the kitchen. "First load's done, I'll throw your jeans and stuff in the dryer. But I'll have to run another load for your jacket, because..."
"I know. Whites and colors."
"Yeah."
In a couple minutes I was back on the sofa sitting next to him again. I wanted to get to know him better but talking about his life was clearly off the table, and asking about his days in Beaumont didn't seem like a good idea either. I thought about what I was doing at his age, four years ago -- campus parties, football games, hanging with my buddies in the dorm. Dates with other college guys, and occasional cheesy hookups. Jesus, what did we have in common?
I decided the only way to approach it was to live in the moment. We were both here and it felt good to be together, and that's all that mattered. Whoever we were before, whoever we might be tomorrow, didn't mean a thing.
Tyler leaned over and rested his bare shoulder against me. I looked at him and smiled, and his hand snaked around and interlaced his fingers with mine. We watched TV and held hands and I felt warm and relaxed and comfortable, like old friends. Like boyfriends.
After a while he snuggled against me and made a satisfied little grunting sound. I slipped my hand out of his grasp and tried to slide my arm around his shoulders but he held me off, glanced at me and tugged at my T-shirt. I got the idea. I peeled it and tossed it aside and as I draped my arm around him he snuggled in closer, rested those gorgeous muscles against my bare ribs and my chest, used my shoulder as his pillow. Another satisfied little grunt, this one right in my ear. I nearly melted down on the spot.
He turned and kissed my cheek, so fucking sweetly. I glanced back and he was watching me, smiling. I tightened my arm around him and leaned in and pressed my lips to his. He flicked his tongue out, found mine... oh Goddd... and we held each other close and made out, our lips cemented, chests mashed together, hands exploring everywhere. I couldn't remember anything so romantic in my life.
Gradually I eased myself down on the sofa and Tyler eased in with me until I was flat on my back and he was lying on top of me, his muscled frame pressing down on me head to toe, kissing me ravenously. I could feel his hard cock bulging in the shorts I gave him to wear, rubbing against my own, grinding and prodding. I held onto him like I'd fucking die if we were torn apart for even a second. My tongue wrestled and teased and romped with his. The heat and scent of our two bodies wrapped around us like a cloud. We were just enjoying the fuck out of being together, sharing our feelings, getting each other more and more aroused.
Finally he broke off the kiss. He looked down at me smiling, brushed the hair back from my forehead, his eyes searching all over my face and then zooming in.
"Bedroom?" I asked.
"Yeah," he whispered back.
We rolled off the sofa together and I took his hand and led him in, pushed the door shut just in case. We each dropped our shorts and stood only a foot apart, looking each other over. He held both my hands and we inched in closer and closer until our chests and our stiff dicks grazed against each other. Our arms instinctively wrapped around one another and we kissed long and deep, and gravitated to the bed without even thinking.
He pushed me onto the mattress playfully and I pulled him down on top of me. We rolled around together, wrestling, giggling, arms and legs tangling and untangling, kissing and nibbling each other everywhere and grinding our cocks together. The hair on his chest and his forearms tickled my bare skin; his beefy legs entwined with mine made my cock so hard it ached. He rolled on top of me and those pecs pinning me down, those rippled abs, his muscular arms, had my ass twitching and my legs spreading wide, longing to have him inside me... but he had other ideas.
"You'll need a condom," he told me. "I don't take cock bare."
"In the nightstand..."
And I watched, amazed, as that incredible living wet dream dug into the drawer and pulled out a condom, tore the packet open and rolled it onto me from the tip all the way down. He grabbed the lube and slathered it over my sheathed cock, and then plumbed his hole with two slimy fingers. I gazed in awe as he straddled my body like a young god, gripped my shaft and lowered himself onto it and took it all the way in with one smooth motion.
He rode me slowly, pumping his body up and down, letting me feel every incredible inch as my shaft plunged into his hole and then glided back out again, nearly all the way to the head. It felt so smooth and gentle, like a rolling wave lapping on the shore. Not a bit like any hookup I'd ever had but more like there was genuine emotion behind it. He had experience, that was for sure... I didn't want to think about how much... but surely this wasn't the way he did it for money, not with those sketchy ass fucks who picked him up on a streetcorner.
I gaped in awe at the way his hole swallowed my cock and disgorged it and swallowed it again, over and over, slow and steady. I saw a drip of precum form at the tip of his fat cock head, swell, and then trickle sluggishly down his shaft. His hands rested on my shoulders and I gripped his forearms, squeezed and massaged those thick muscles. He was looking down on me, smiling, obviously loving the way he was making me feel.
Every once in a while he'd lean in and make out with me as he rode me, or gnaw on my ear. It was driving me fucking crazy.
Gently I rolled him off of me and onto his back on the mattress beside me, rolled over on top of him, kissed him hungrily as I positioned myself between his legs. He raised his knees eagerly for me, showed me his gaping hole, and I slid into him clean and smooth. I matched the pace he'd set for us, slow and easy, driving in and out while he stroked his cock to the beat.
His control was amazing. His hole was working my shaft even as I pumped him, twitching and squeezing and kneading me; his stroking was making his precum leak in a thick, steady flow. He was edging us both, bringing us ever so slowly to climax together, our bodies on fire and desperate to blow our loads long and hard, but holding us back until that last frantic moment when nothing could stop the eruption.
Tyler was the first to get there. His breaths were coming short and quick, and little tremors were running through his body. Suddenly he let out a wail and gushed a huge slug of hot cream on his abs. He bucked and pitched out another one, and another, his face showing pure unbridled pleasure. I pulled out of him, pulled off the condom and jacked myself. My body tensed, a hot wave of pressure filled my head, and I grunted loud and spouted my load on him, spurting again and again, laying thick white stripes all over his beautiful torso.
As soon as we'd both finished and caught our breath I dove in and started licking up both of our loads, lapping at those muscles with my tongue, sucking our cum out of his chest hair. Swallowing every drop with all my heart. He told me I didn't have to, he could rinse it off in the shower, but I wasn't about to let it go down the drain. And just about the time I finished and lay down beside him, I heard the dryer buzzing in the hall.
I climbed out of bed and hurried to the laundry closet, pulled out his jeans and socks and underwear, grabbed his jacket from the washer and threw it in. Then hustled my ass to the bedroom and jumped back in bed with him.
We cuddled for a solid hour, neither of us saying a word or wanting to. I just held him like he was the love of my life, and he did the same. How real it was didn't matter, never even entered our heads. It was all about the moment, and the shared experience, and being there for each other when we were needed.
The dryer buzzed again and it was over. We rolled out of bed and he gathered up his clothes and got dressed. Suddenly he was a hustler again, wearing hustler gear. But I still felt something, I couldn't just send him out with the clothes on his back and the handful of shit in his pockets. I snagged my wallet from its hiding place, pulled out all the cash I had -- only forty bucks -- and held it out to him.
Instantly I knew I'd made a mistake. He pushed my hand away, looking genuinely hurt.
"It's not what I did it for," he said.
"That isn't why... it's not about that. I just want to help."
"I don't need your money. I know how to get money. What I needed was just to get away from it for a little while, to be with a regular person for once and live like I had a normal life."
"You can. Any time. You're welcome here always, just to hang out, or if you ever need to talk. And the rest of it too, if that's what you want. Come back and see me. Please."
He gave me a noncommittal shrug, and was maybe about to say something -- and then the front door opened, and Rob walked in. They eyed each other for a second, and Tyler pushed past Rob and out the door.
Rob watched as Tyler went out the gate. He turned to me with a baffled look.
"Who was that? A hustler?"
"Nah," I said. "A friend."