Pero, Can I Play Now?

Pero, Can I Play Now?

Warning, this story may contain explicit descriptions of sexual acts between boys of various ages and/or men and boys. If this is not to your tastes, please leave now.

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Pero(But), Can I Play Now?

By Chris Carr

Copyright ©May 1999

"Carlos? Carlos Ortiz? Oh my goodness, come in, come in!" Oscar said, swinging the door open. "Mira, you're all grown up now!" Oscar beamed, observing the teen in his foyer. "Venga, come in! Have a seat."

Perching gingerly on a wing chair, Carlos looked about, a smile on his face. The room was as he remembered it. Rushing to turn the blaring stereo down Oscar blushed,

"Enrique Iglesias, can't get enough of him. You want something to drink?" He was already on his way to the kitchen.

"Water," Carlos called.

"You've gotten so big I can hardly believe it!" Oscar said, sitting across from the boy. Handing him two glasses, he commented,

"Big enough for the cervesa now, huh?"

The same silly smile on his face, Carlos nodded.

"Oh my goodness, how long has it been?" Oscar pressed.

"Four years, I think."

"You're 17!"

"Yes."

"Time flies. You're finishing school this year then, right?"

"Yes, June."

"Carlitos, graduating from high school! So, Como esta?"

"Bien."

"You going to college?"

"Yes. I've been accepted into the Pasadena School of Art."

"You stayed with it."

Carlos simply nodded his head.

"Oh, Carlos, I'm so proud. And your mother, how is she?"

"She's fine. She said to tell you hi."

"I bet she's very proud of you."

"Yes. She says she owes it all to you."

"Oh no. Not me, YOU!"

"Not without the photography, Oscar," Carlos insisted.

"And look what you've done with it. Such a nice school. What do you plan to study?"

"Graphic arts."

"Excelente. With your good eye, you should do well."

"I brought you something," Carlos said, reaching into his backpack. He took a breath. Extending his hand, he handed the portfolio over to his good friend.

Settling into the couch, Oscar opened the book, quietly observing the splendid sunset the youth had captured. Speaking softly he inquired,

"Where is this?"

"Point Dume." His voice barely rising, Oscar voiced,

"It's breathtaking, Carlos. You took this?"

"Yes."

Turning the page, Oscar exhaled audibly when he saw the little girl. Her hair disarrayed, the girl's eyes caught his, holding him. It was as if the boy had snatched a piece of time with his camera. Page after page, Oscar found himself gasping, captivated. Carlos had taken what he'd taught him and enhanced it greatly. The boy seated across from him was no longer a student, but an equal. Excited, Oscar questioned him endlessly about f-stops, exposures, film speeds, and light meters. The 27-year-old could hardly believe his ears. Things he'd drilled into the boy years ago, now flowed freely.

"And, which one is your favorite?"

"It's not in there," Carlos said, plainly.

"None of these?" Oscar insisted, pointing at the book. Carlos shook his head, no. Then, reaching in his back pack again, he handed a single picture over to the man.

Studying the framed picture, memories flooded Oscar's head.

"The church," he said, his sun bronzed face flushing.

"It's still my favorite," Carlos said, moving to sit next to the man. Struck, Oscar stared at the picture, speechless.

"Remember how hot is was?" Carlos recalled.

"Sweltering."

"And I kept screwing up the focus."

"That damn manual focus I made you use."

"And we had to sit on that bench forever, waiting for it to stop raining."

"But it was nice just sitting there," Oscar murmured, glancing up at the boy.

"We didn't think any of those pictures were going to come out."

"But they did. Look at this," Oscar said, pointing at the picture.

"It's a little underexposed."

"Probably that developer I was using then."

"You still have that dark room?"

"Yes, of course."

"It was so little in there. We almost had to stand on top of each other to work."

"Little and always hot."

Oscar couldn't take his eyes off the picture. Everything was perfectly balanced. Light, shade, depth, focus. It was a work of art. Oscar could scarcely believe it himself.

"Carlitos! Can you believe you took this picture at 13?"

"No way man," Carlos shook his head. Honored, the boy ventured,

"You still doing photography?"

"Yeah, but I'm trying to pick up some of this new stuff, too."

"Like, computer graphics imaging?"

"Exactly, and maybe digital, too."

"But what about your portraits?"

"Oh, if it wasn't for that, I'd starve."

"Done any big stars lately?"

"Not that much. Mostly family portraits, and High School pictures. Oh! I did that new group 'Sangria' last year!"

"You got that layout?"

"Si, hold on."

"I can't believe you met Sangria," Carlos said when he returned. Thumbing through the pictures, the boy shook his head, amazed.

"Where'd you take these?" he asked.

"This old warehouse in the valley."

"They're very nice, Oscar."

"Thank you," Oscar blushed.

"You know, you never did a layout with me."

"I… I didn't think you were interested," Oscar said, his voice trailing off.

"You doing layouts for Sangria and I wouldn't be interested?"

"Well… I… always thought..."

"I've always wanted you to do some portraits of me," Carlos stated, looking up from the pictures.

"Well, I had no idea." Handing the pictures over to Oscar, Carlos quietly petitioned,

"Would… would you do a layout for me?"

"You're kidding, right?" Carlos shook his head.

Stunned, Oscar gazed at the boy.

"Now?" he asked. Again Carlos shook his head, his eyes never leaving Oscar's.

"But it takes so much time," Oscar contended.

"I've got all day." Bewildered, Oscar finally relented, directing the boy into his studio.

Arranging his studio flashes, photolamps and cameras, Oscar was silent. Every so often he'd glance over at the boy, wandering around the room, examining things. The little Carlos he once knew had grown into a very handsome young man. At nearly 5'7", Oscar guestimated, he'd added well over a half a foot to his previously small, 5 foot frame. He still had those engaging, brown eyes, though. His face was more developed too, maturing with character. Observing how nicely his body had filled out, his lithe physique rippling under his clothes, heightened the tension in the room for Oscar.

"Ok, I'm ready," he said, his preparations through.

"Where do you want me?" Carlos asked.

"Why don't you turn that chair backwards and sit on it facing me?" Oscar suggested. Straddling the chair, Carlos gripped the back and looked at him.

"Like this?" he said.

"Yes, but rest your head on your hands, like this," Oscar said, positioning the boy. "That's good," he commented, squatting before him and snapping the first picture. With an audible poof, the strobes flashed, suffusing the room with momentary brilliance.

Moving to Carlos' side, Oscar fired off more shots, gradually absorbing himself in the mood of the shoot. Composing several poses, he searched for some indication of the boy's inner spirit, begging to be captured. Eventually he concluded, a more natural look would best enhance Carlos' gentle demeanor.

"Let's move over to the window," Oscar tendered. Pulling the blinds open, he patiently adjusted the soft afternoon sun, flowing into the window, until he was satisfied with its luminosity.

"Where to have you sit?" He mused aloud, his finger on his chin.

"How 'bout this?" Carlos suggested, dragging a pristine, yellow and white striped wing chair toward the window.

"Si, turn it this way," Oscar concurred, arranging the chair. Sitting, Carlos looked up at Oscar and smiled. The warm lighting intensified his beautiful, bronze-tan skin, causing it to practically glow.

Positioning before the boy, Oscar snapped away. Carlos smiled, his radiantly white teeth gleaming as he posed. With each flash of the shutter, Oscar strove to capture the boy's angelic features, his excitement growing. Rifling through his first roll, he quickly grabbed a second camera, reluctant to break the mood.

Calmly, almost imperceptibly, Carlos removed first one of his sneakers and then the other; pulling his feet up into the chair as Oscar worked. Almost as casually, he pulled his socks off too, returning his copper tinged feet to the chair. Noting the boy's wily maneuver, Oscar wiped his brow, the heat rising in the hot studio. Turning the camera vertical, he took a full shot of him, curled up in the chair.

Pausing to attach a different lens, Oscar was a little surprised to see Carlos had unbuttoned the top three buttons of his shirt when he returned. Distracted, he found himself glancing at the boy's seductively revealed chest. Readjusting his light source, Oscar focused the camera on the boy's face and upper torso, firing off another set of pictures.

"You mind if I take my shirt off?" Carlos solicited.

"No…" Oscar croaked.

Sitting forward, Carlos finished unbuttoning his shirt and slowly pulled the shirt tails from the confines of his Dockers, his head down. Removing it, he reclined in the chair, finally looking modestly up at Oscar. Mounting the camera on a tripod, Oscar popped off a series of pictures. Through the viewfinder, he couldn't help admiring Carlos' svelte, rich tanned torso. His smooth skin and delectable brown nipples beckoned him, making him dizzy. At one point, Carlos licked his ruby red lips, wetting them. Oscar watched in silence, his pulse quickening.

"I brought some swimming trunks, too," Carlos dropped, gazing at Oscar through the viewfinder. Swallowing, Oscar heard his dry throat rasp.

"You want to put them on?"

"If you don't think so…" Carlos hedged.

"No! I mean… If you want to."

Standing, Carlos picked up his back pack and, facing Oscar, inquired,

"Where should I change?"

"The bathroom is down the hall to your right." Padding across the floor, his back pack slung over his shoulder, Oscar watched, captivated… puzzled.

His hands sweaty, Oscar changed lenses again. The heat in the studio was so intense now, Oscar had to turn on a fan. Standing before it, he mopped his brow with a towel. Carlos returned, his luscious body clad in a clinging pair of bikini swimming trunks, reeking havoc on Oscar's futile attempts to cool himself.

"Can I sit up there?" Carlos asked, pointing at the wide ledge beneath the window.

"Uh… Ok… if you want," Oscar stammered.

Hopping onto the ledge, Carlos leaned against the deep set sill and raised one knee. Extending the leg closest Oscar, he rested his head and hands atop the bent knee and looked quietly at the flustered young man. Steadying himself, Oscar raised his second camera and started snapping pictures again. Carlos changed poses several times, his obvious package shifting with every move. Striving to remain focused, Oscar aimed, focused and shot each frame without comment. Pushing his hips to the edge of the window sill, Carlos dropped his long, supple legs to the floor beneath for one pose. Reclining on his palms, placed either side his sumptuous hips, he looked slyly at Oscar and smiled.

Dabbing at his brow, Oscar returned to the tripod mounted camera, and pushed the shutter release. With each advance of the film, Oscar watched, transfixed, Carlos' tightly confined dick, unavoidable.

"Why…" Carlos sputtered, his eyes suddenly avoiding Oscar's. Slowly raising above the mounted camera, Oscar encouraged,

"What is it, chiquito?" Biting his lower lip, Carlos hedged

"Why…Why you never made a move on me, Oscar?" he finally spouted.

His mouth hung open, Oscar stuttered,

"I… You…"

"All those boys, and you never looked at me," Carlos continued, his voice cracking.

"Oh Carlos…"

"Is it, I'm not your type?" Carlos pleaded, his eyes filling with tears.

Confusion. Confusion combined with the realization, he couldn't move his legs. Finally, his legs wobbly, he approached the boy, his heart aching.

"Carlos… Carlos, that's not it at all," Oscar stated, holding the boy.

"I wore those tight jeans, all the time. Those skimpy shorts…" Carlos blathered, a tear running down his face.

"I didn't know, chiquito, I didn't know," Oscar begged. "I just never figured you to be gay, Carlos."

"It ain't about being straight or gay, Oscar. I just wanted you to like me like you liked all those boys."

"And I did, I just kept it to myself," Oscar protested, wiping the boy's tears away. "If you only knew the times my heart ached, looking at you. How bad I wanted to hold you, to kiss you."

"You… Huh?" Carlos sniffled.

"Yes, chiquito, badly."

"So what was I doing wrong?"

"You weren't doing anything wrong, Carlos. I was just trying to play it safe."

"But… those other boys… And… The kids calling you maricon, and…"

"Yes, yes, chiquito, but I still didn't want to make you do something I didn't think you wanted to do," Oscar explained.

"So…You weren't ignoring me?"

"I didn't know."

"But… What about Randy?"

"Randy?" Oscar gasped, the memories rushing back. Slumping, Oscar's eyes fell. "Randy," he repeated, staring at the floor.

"You knew about Randy?"

"Yes," Carlos said, confused.

"How?"

"He told me."

"He told you?"

"Yes, that summer. He said it was, 'like heaven,'" Carlos mimicked, his voice lilting.

"Oh my goodness, chiquito, I don't know what to say."

"Why him and not me?" Carlos insisted.

"Believe me, if I could've had it my way, it would've been you, Carlos. Randy was different. He kept giving me hints and saying things that let me know he was interested. I never got that from you, except for those short shorts you used to wear."

"I thought that's what you liked."

"Because of Randy?"

"Well, yeah."

"I had no idea, Carlos," Oscar said, looking earnestly into the boy's eyes.

"I started thinking it was me. That I just wasn't cute enough or something."

"How could you think that? Look at you, you're magnifico!"

"You think?"

"No question about it," Oscar said, surveying the youth's supple curves. Brightening, Carlos tendered,

"You wanna know something I always wanted to try?"

"What?" Pausing, Carlos inhaled deeply, a little hesitant.

"Nudes," he quietly murmured. His eyes widening, Oscar gasped.

"You're kidding." Carlos shook his head no, staring at Oscar intently. For a long moment he sat uncertain, then, standing timidly, he padded over to the wing chair. Turning his back to Oscar, he slowly edged his swimming trunks off his magnificent, round ass. Oscar watched, his heart hammering in his ears as inch by inch of the boy's delectable ass was unveiled.

Pulling his trunks all the way down, Carlos stepped out of them and quickly hopped into the wing chair. Oscar sat, stunned, beholding the boy of his dreams, nude in his house.

"You're supposed to take pictures," Carlos taunted, a cunning smile on his face.

In a daze, Oscar stood, positioned his camera and focused. Snapping his first nude of the boy, he blinked, still astonished. Gazing through the viewfinder, he watched as Carlos became less inhibited.

Leaning forward, the teen raised his right knee and rested his head on it. Aiming, Oscar snapped the shot, making sure to include Carlos' dangling dick. Raising both his feet into the chair, Carlos posed again, his elbows casually resting on his knees. With each snap of the camera Carlos changed his seductive pose, leaving Oscar a virtual wreck in the process. Through it all, however, his dick never hardened, its thickness dangling between his legs temptingly. Supposing the boy was content having answered all his questions, Oscar grieved over what could've been. That is, until Carlos' spear started rising between his spread legs.

Mesmerized, Oscar snapped away, catching the boy's triumphant erection in all its glory. Swiftly running through another roll, Oscar snatched another loaded camera and continued their steamy session.

Aroused, Carlos became bolder, his poses more erotic. He'd never felt so white hot stimulated in his entire life. At one point, he got on all fours in the chair and pushed his bubble ass at the camera.

"Ay, dios mio!" Oscar squealed, seizing the shot. Encouraged, Carlos lay on his back and in his boldest pose, flung his legs spread eagle. Mustering one shot, and only one shot, Oscar practically threw the camera down and approached the boy.

"Oh, Carlitos, you're so hot," he moaned, staring at him. Stepping between the boy's wide splayed legs, Oscar dared to touch him. His trembling hands grazing over the boy's feet and up his lightly fleeced legs, he shuddered.

"I can't believe it," Oscar sighed, his hands roving over the boy's ass and rigid dick.

Kneeling between his legs, Oscar leaned forward, his face approaching Carlos'. Carlos lowered his legs, sat up and moved to meet the man, their lips eventually locking in a deep kiss. Clutching Oscar tightly, Carlos opened like a flower. Moaning, his dick throbbed between his legs as Oscar's tongue coiled into his mouth. Swashing his tongue about, Oscar held the boy, the warmth of their tightly pressed bodies feeding the fire. Neither was willing to release the other, the desire between them insatiable.

Finally breaking the kiss, Oscar whispered,

"You want to go to the room?" Carlos nodded his head, his big brown eyes fastened on Oscar's. Taking him by the hand, Oscar pulled him to his bedroom, ripping his clothes off as they went. Kissing the boy between articles of clothing, he eventually removed all his clothes.

Their lips still locked, the twosome stumbled towards the bed. Lying, Oscar pulled the boy to him, grabbing his head and guiding his mouth back to his again. The couple intertwined, each ferociously exploring the other's mouth , their heads twisting back and forth.

His hands exploring the boy's soft brown skin, Oscar found Carlos' nipples and caressed them. Whimpering, Carlos imitated his actions, stroking Oscar's in turn. Flipping the boy beneath him, Oscar lay atop him, their lips still locked. With one last smack, Oscar broke their kiss, traveling to Carlos' neck, sucking and licking as he went. Carlos writhed about in ecstasy, his eyes closed.

"Ay Oscar," Carlos moaned as Oscar lapped and sucked at his sun browned nipples. Arching his back, Carlos presented his tender bud to the man's assaulting tongue. With each broad swipe of the man's fiery tongue, bright firecrackers seemed to rocket from his sensitive nipple, causing him to shudder uncontrollably. Precious juices dripped from the foreskin-capped head of his dick, dribbling onto his quivering stomach below. Relentless, Oscar swooped over the boy's flawlessly smooth abdomen and lapped his juices up, smacking loudly. Enraptured, Carlos watched, his dick towering above his groin, painfully erect.

"Ay suck it!" Carlos hissed, Oscar's mouth sliding down his pulsing 7 inches. One hand cupping the boy's drum tight balls and the other stationing his stiff member, Oscar skinned the boy's foreskin back and whipped his tongue about his angry purple-red head. His hips practically bucking, Carlos slung his dick into Oscar's merciless mouth, hissing and moaning. Incredible sensations surged about his long brown pipe, causing it to leak even more. Oscar licked and sucked salaciously, his fire ignited.

"But let me do you," Carlos demanded, slinging his man onto the bed. Wasting no time, Carlos bit and sucked at Oscar's neck, raising welts and bruises he'd have for days. Delighted, he cared not, his neck an offering to Carlos' blazing desire. Swooping to Oscar's nipples, the boy nibbled and suckled them too, eliciting sighs and moans from him. Writhing about the bed, Oscar caressed the boy's wavy black hair, running his fingers through it.

"Ay Carlos!" Oscar hissed as Carlos seized his erect 8 inches, pulling the foreskin back. Tentatively at first, Carlos licked the head like a lollypop, fascinated. Carlos Ortiz was licking on a man's dick, and he liked it! Sold for life, he slammed his mouth down Oscar's brick hard wand, swallowing it. Trembling, Oscar gazed at the boy's rosy lips, spread around his spear, milking it. Seconds away from erupting, Carlos released his dick. His desire driving him, Carlos turned Oscar onto his back, straddling him. Dipping his dripping column between the youth's upturned cheeks, he desperately searched for his opening.

"Ay, Ay, AY!" Oscar yelped, Carlos' bulbous head splitting his asshole open. Like a dog in heat, Carlos thrust deeper and deeper, unable to contain his maddened lust. His own desire mountain high, Oscar raised his ass off the bed, impaling himself on the boy's invading ramrod. Burying his full length deep inside the man, Carlos lay across him. Trembling, Oscar sensed how every inch of his asshole quivered, snapping tight around the length of the boy buried within him. Like hand and glove they lay, Carlos leaning to whisper in Oscar's ear.

"This is better than heaven."

His mouth finding Oscar's, Carlos kissed him, his dick happily socketed inside the man. Raising his slender hips, the boy pulled back, then slid back home. The boy's dick raking over his raw prostate, Oscar whined, thrusting his ass higher. Pulling out again, Carlos' toes literally curled as Oscar's ass stroked every inch of his withdrawing length. This was man to man sex. Rich. Powerful. Surfeiting.

Finding a rhythm, Carlos started to really ride his man. His ass rising and falling, it was a sight to behold. Still lapping at Oscar's mouth, Carlos fucked him in earnest now. Thrusting deeply, he sunk his dick into the precious hole, sensations riveting him. He couldn't get over how powerfully erotic it felt to drive his dick into a sweet asshole like Oscar's. Would he ever get enough?

"It feels so good," he whimpered into Oscar's ear, his dick plunging the depths of the man's tunnel. Blissful, Oscar could say nothing, his asshole split about the boy's shaft.

"Don't stop," he pleaded.

With deep, thrusts, Carlos rode him, his stamina incredible. Oscar would no sooner finish one wave of stimulation, rippling the length of his impaled channel and another would start. Never in his life had he been fucked so royally. Ah, sweet youth, he thought, the boy atop him relentless.

His ramming dick becoming hypersensitive, Carlos surrendered himself, aware that nothing lasts forever. Deeper he thrust, Oscar's tight ass clutching his tender head. Pushing it deeper, he felt Oscar's drum tight asshole seize it, choking the life out of it.

"Ayyy!" Oscar moaned, squeezing his ass muscles around the boy's thrusting dick.

His dick swelling, Carlos held his man in a vice-grip. Pounding his dick far into the reaches of the man's tender ass, Carlos heard a groan usher from the depths of his soul. The helmet-like head of his dick dragging across the man's prostate, Carlos felt his body start to tremble. Holding on for dear life, he rammed his dick into Oscar's love tunnel. Pleading for release, his dick throbbed, the very touch of Oscar's ass about it unbearable.

"Oh Os-car," he whimpered. Wishing he could stay here forever, he felt his dick leap, the first volley of the spurting leviathan, skyrocketing into Oscar's ass. Scraping his raw dick against the man's quivering asshole, he brought himself off. Scalding hot liquid, skeeted from his dick, splashing Oscar's walls. His balls retracted, the force of his orgasm as if it would pull them up and through his dick. Grunting and crying, he felt his dick fire round after round, his issue ceaseless.

Sensing the boy's cum, pelting his ravaged asshole, Oscar felt his own orgasm approaching. Squeezing even tighter, he heard the youth cry out in ecstasy. His convulsing ass muscles stroked by the boy's ramming dick, Oscar erupted. Drenching his sheets, hot wet jets of cum leaped from his dick. His ass several inches off the bed, Oscar was wide splayed now, his hole an offering to Carlos' spear. Cum continued to spurt from his dick, flying across the sheets as he rode it.

And with every salvo that skidded across the bed, an equally potent jet was fired up his ass. Quivering, and shaking, the boys rode it out, cum flying in abundance. Quaking and fucking like banshee's, they eventually scraped the bottom of the barrel.

His issue depleted, Carlos continued to dry hump his man, refusing to let go. His dick still spasming, Carlos relished the vestiges of his diminishing orgasm. Although he could produce no more cum, he couldn't stop his hips from sliding his dick into the youth's tunnel. Still gripping the man in a death grip, Carlos sighed and humped, sweat pouring off his body.

Accepting the most extraordinary climax of his life was finally over, Carlos collapsed atop Oscar. His dick still ensconced in the man's quivering asshole, Carlos lay, panting heavily.

"Fucking incredible," he blew into the man's ear, exhausted.

Content, they stayed connected until Carlos' dick had fully deflated. Withdrawing, carefully, Carlos rolled off Oscar and slumped on the bed. Staring at the ceiling, he tried remembering when he'd ever cum so much. Lying silent for a long time, Oscar finally declared,

"It's too bad we had to wait so long for this."

"Well," Carlos said, "I had to learn how to play the game," his dick hardening again. Observing it lengthening, Oscar quipped,

"I should play so well, Pelé!"