Secondhand

SECONDHAND by K. Nitsua. Copyright 2008 by the author.

Summer had just begun and already I was bored. Going to the gym, sitting in the Starbucks reading the paper, and surfing the net for online porn had long since gotten old. So what was I doing today? Checking out the Goodwill store. My so-called life.

I'd had a good job, made a lot of money, and been able to retire early. So what was I doing in a thrift store? Going to the Goodwill wasn't as trashy as it might seem, actually. I'd picked up lots of good, practically new stuff there. Besides, it was a great place to check out cute men. No fooling. Younger guys, especially college students, are often short on cash, and sometimes it seemed as if all the studly ones shopped here.

Not that they were looking at me. All those years I worked I was too busy to spend a lot of time dating or cruising, and now that I had the time I was too old. None of those hot boys was going to take a second look at me, and I refused to go hang out at parks, bookstores or tearooms. I wasn't going to become one of those pathetic old trolls. That meant being pushed to the sidelines. I'd accepted my fate but that didn't mean I was happy about it.

A blast of cool air hit me as I pushed open the door and walked in. As usual the place reeked of dry-cleaning fluid--they had to make sure those used clothes were sanitary, I guess. The cashier smiled and said hello. I guess I was a regular by now. I nodded back and glanced toward the men's wear racks. No one was there. I looked at the bid case and dodged some screaming little kids running around. Fortunately that family was leaving.

I started looking at the men's clothes. The front rack nearest the store window had the underwear and sports gear. That stuff never much interested me because it was almost never the right size or color. I could never figure out whether normal-sized people never gave their stuff to Goodwill or whether it simply got snapped up too fast for me to grab any of it. The briefs and boxers in particular made me crack up--the pairs on sale were usually enormous. I tried to picture a man who could actually wear an XXXL pair of jockeys, and wondered whether he actually existed outside of a pro wrestling ring.

There was a normal-sized pair of briefs on the rack today, but I could see why nobody had bought them. They were high-cut and a bright safety orange. Eye-catching, but not really a sexy color. I moved to the next aisle to look at shirts. At that moment the door opened. I looked up and knew I had struck pay dirt.

A man had come into the store and was heading for the clothes racks. Actually he was a boy compared to me. He couldn't have been more than twenty--one of those college students looking for cheap threads. He was slender and hard, with unruly dark brown hair and a day's growth of beard. To my delight he decided to look at shirts too. As he thumbed through the rack down the aisle from me I cast surreptitious looks at him, liking what I saw more and more. He wore a loose, old shirt. The top two buttons were open, giving me a glimpse of his chest. His slim-fit jeans hugged his narrow hips and small rear end.

Then it happened. As I was copping a look at his lean, square-jawed face he raised his head and caught my eye. His own eyes were gorgeous--large, bright and dark brown. There was no hardness or challenge in them, only friendly curiosity.

I blushed, and ducked my head. It was humiliating that I couldn't even look another guy in the eye, but I'd never been good at talking to strangers, which explained why I was retired and single, I guess. I mapped out the quickest escape route in my head.

"So what do you think of this?"

Was he talking to me? I looked up. He was. I tried to say something but only a hoarse rattle came out of my dry throat. I harrumphed and tried again.

"I don't know. It's kind of old for you." It was a blue and white pinstriped Brooks Brothers dress shirt, the kind business types wore to the office.

He looked at it and let it drop. "Maybe so."

I turned back to the rack, relieved but somehow disappointed.

"How about this one?"

I looked at him again. This time he was holding up a faux-silk number with bright colored vertical stripes. On a skinny young guy like him it might actually look good. I said as much.

He looked at the shirt, then at me. "I'm going to try it on. Would you tell me how it looks on me?"

I shrugged. Another youngster stuck on himself.

"Sure. I'll wait here."

His gaze held mine. "Why don't you come with me?"

For a moment I didn't believe what I'd heard. "Come with you?" I repeated, like a fool.

"Sure." He smiled.

The dressing rooms were at the back. They weren't very private--the doors had slats and didn't extend either to the floor or the ceiling. Still, he was inviting me into one. Who knew what could happen?

"Okay."

Ever so casually we walked through the store, him holding the shirt, and went into one of the empty cubicles. By the time I pushed the button latch in the doorknob and turned around he was slipping off his shirt in front of the mirror. His bare torso looked exactly like I thought it would--hard, flat stomach with a fine dusting of hair, pecs defined but not huge. One nipple was pierced with a small gold ring. I wanted to pull on it so bad.

His jeans were slung low on his hips, the way all the young guys wore them these days. I could see he was wearing a pair of blue plaid boxers underneath. I had an idea. "Hold on, be right back."

I walked back to the front of the store and grabbed the orange briefs I'd seen when I first came in off the rack. When I got back he'd put the Goodwill shirt on and was looking at himself in the mirror. It looked great on him, as I'd thought it would. He turned and saw the underwear.

"What the--you want me to put those on?" He looked skeptical.

"Sure," I said, thinking fast. "I don't know how you stuff those boxer things into those tight jeans. This is what you're supposed to wear under jeans."

He shook his head. "I don't know. At any rate I don't want to here."

I saw my chance and went for broke. "I live nearby. Come back to my place and try them on."

His head snapped up. Before he could say anything I played my last card. "Tell you what, I'll buy both these things for you."

Silence that went on and on, then I saw his slow smile, the shrug of his shoulders. "Heck, why not? Lead the way, man."

I'd been telling him the truth--I lived just a few blocks from the Goodwill and had walked to the store. We made the short trip back mostly in silence, my new friend carrying the clothes I'd bought for him in a plastic bag. I'd found out his name, at least--Michael. Not Mike, he said firmly.

"Nice place," he said as we walked in the front door. I'd already made up my mind not to come on too strong. After all, I hadn't said or done anything overt and neither had he. So I kept playing the game.

"You want anything before we get started? A Coke, a beer?" I asked.

Michael shook his head, that small smile on his face again. He really was cute. At that point I didn't even care whether I actually fucked the kid or not. The novelty of having a guy less than half my age in my place was enough. And he was about to take his clothes off for me.

"You can put those things on in my bedroom down the hall," I said, handing him the bag. "Put your jeans back on over the underwear and tuck the shirt in. Then come on back and let's see how you look."

He trotted obediently away and I sat on the living room couch, surprised and a bit embarrassed that I was breathing hard, even shaking a little bit.

It seemed like a very long time before I heard his returning footsteps. Michael came in, wearing the new shirt tucked in like I told him. He'd left the two top buttons undone the way he had with his other shirt. The bright stripes together with the tight jeans made him look as slim as a reed, even younger than he was. My breath caught in my throat.

"So what do you think?" he asked.

"You look terrific," I told him. "All ready to hit the clubs."

He shrugged, but I could tell he was pleased.

"You wearing the briefs underneath?"

"Yeah."

"So--you like them?"

"I don't know. I don't wear that kind of underwear usually. Feels kind of weird."

"Well," I said, licking my lips, "Let's see how they look on you."

He dropped his gaze modestly as he undid his fly and pushed his jeans down to his knees.

"Unbutton the shirt." My voice was a hoarse rasp.

Whatever was going through his head, Michael knew what to do. He undid the shirt, pulled the tails apart and pushed them back as he put his hands on his hips. The skimpy orange briefs rode low, giving me a perfect view of his hard, flat stomach, the dark treasure trail thickening as it descended toward the waistband, the ridges of muscle above his groin. And, of course, the swelling mound stretching the elastic fabric.

As I watched he cocked one hip to the side in a perfect model's stance. I looked up. His eyes were just as they had been in the store--no hardness or attitude in them, just an open, frank question. I stood and went over to him.

"Lovely," I said, and ran one hand over his chest and stomach, hooking my finger into his nipple ring and tugging at it, very gently. Michael's eyes closed and I heard his quick intake of breath. He let out a soft groan as I bent down and flicked my tongue over his other tit.

I kept working both nipples as I knelt, kissing his stomach. Finally I reached his crotch. I took my sweet time, teasing him and myself, drawing the orange Jockeys slowly down his hips until his cock finally popped out, already almost hard, startling me with its length and thickness. His pubes were coal-black, darker than his head hair. Clear fluid leaked from the tip of the conical purplish head, freed from its foreskin. His balls were round and tight and no doubt very full. The next moment I'd inhaled his rod and was sliding back and forth on it like a madman. So much for holding back.

"Oh fuck that's nice," Michael said, grabbing my head as I continued to suck him.

"Mm hmm," I agreed. The day had already exceeded my wildest dreams-getting a load out of this young stud would be icing on the cake.

Michael, it seemed, had other ideas. I felt his hands under my arms, urging me to my feet, pulling my reluctant mouth away from its prize. Before I knew it he was on his knees in front of me, undoing my button fly and fishing my own organ out. He looked up at me and grinned.

"You're not wearing anything underneath," he observed.

I tried to imitate his shrug. "That's the other option," I said, ending with a startled "Uh!" as his mouth engulfed my cock. My eyes closed and my mouth opened as waves of pleasure washed over me. Michael was a terrific cocksucker. His hand tugged at my balls, keeping the skin stretched tight as warm, wet lips and tongue slid over the shaft and head of my prick. Soon I was moaning helplessly, getting closer and closer to blowing my load. I didn't want that to happen just yet, so I backed up and out of his talented mouth and bent toward him.

"You are fucking hot," I whispered before clamping my mouth onto his. We stood and kissed for long moments, tongues tangling, lips coming together with bruising force, breaking apart reluctantly and going back for more. Our hands roved over each other's bodies, sliding under what remained of our clothes. "Want to take this back to the bedroom?"

In a few moments we were going at it again on my bed. I got behind Michael as he lay on his stomach, grabbed his hips and lifted his ass toward my face. His hole was small and pink, surrounded by just a few dark hairs. It tasted as good as it looked. He groaned in appreciation as I ate his ass.

"Fuck me, Lee."

"I'd love to," I said. "Let me get a rubber."

"No." Michael looked back at me and shook his head. He added, "You're clean, aren't you?"

"Well, yeah, but-"

His dark eyes were intense. "So am I. You've got to do me bare, man. Only way. So fucking hot when a guy dumps his load inside. I can feel it. Makes me cum like that."

I had to admit his dirty talk was getting me hot. I looked at his hard slender body, his tight little butt, all mine for the taking. What the hell.

"I still need lube."

He chuckled. "No way you're going to get that thing in me otherwise."

"I'll go slow." I hopped off the bed and went to the bathroom. It took me a while before I found the tube-it'd been a long time since I'd used it. When I came back in Michael was still lying on his stomach, his head turned toward me. He smiled.

I knelt between his legs, greasing my cock up with a handful of lube and putting a fingerful into his asshole. I was shaking with excitement again and had to keep telling myself to take it easy. When I was ready I stretched out full length over Michael's prone body, grabbed my cock and gently pressed it in. I sucked in my breath as I felt the squeezing heat of his back passage. I had to admit it felt wonderful without a rubber.

Michael hadn't said anything or made a sound underneath me, but now I heard him sigh in contentment. I began to thrust gently into him. "Is this okay?" I asked.

"Mm hmm. Perfect."

I fucked him slowly a few minutes in this position before I felt like I could control myself and not blow my load too soon. I put my hands under his stomach and pushed him toward me.

"Hands and knees, baby."

Doing him doggy style was hot-I could look at the long dark hair falling on the nape of his neck and his muscled back, tapering in a "V" down to his incredibly slim waist and hips. I forced myself not to glance lower down-the sight of my bare shaft sliding in and out between the pale curves of his butt cheeks would have made me cum in a second, and I wanted to last as long as I could.

Michael's hole twitched and squeezed at my shaft as I fucked him. I figured that was a good sign. I reached around and tugged at his nipple ring, then grasped his hard, hard cock. He pushed my hand away.

"Don't. I'll cum right away if you do that."

I grinned. "I know the feeling." I contented myself with nibbling and licking at his earlobe, then stealing a sidelong kiss. The scent rising from his aroused body was driving me wild, though, and soon I'd waited long enough. I pulled out and asked him to turn over. As soon as Michael was on his back I spread his legs wide apart and shoved myself back in. I leaned back, watching my cock fuck his hole, making his balls shake every time I hit bottom.

I didn't lose control, though, until I looked up into his face. His dark eyes stared into mine, daring me to fuck him harder, to give him what he wanted. He jerked his head in a barely perceptible nod and gave me another smile.

That did it. I leaned forward over him and began to fuck him full force, my body slamming into his with an audible slap on every downstroke. Michael's eyes danced with delight. "Yeah, fuck me, man," he whispered.

My lips and tongue found his, and we kissed for one last time. My gasping breaths turned into grunts, then hoarse guttural shouts as cum rose from my balls, hurtled through my dick and exploded out the end in a hot flood deep into his gut. "Aw fuck, I'm cumming," I hissed through clenched teeth as I pounded my load into him.

"Fuck yeah," Michael said, his arms clamped around my neck. I felt sticky wet heat on my stomach and looked down as soon as I could open my eyes. Sure enough, he'd shot his load without touching himself.

"That is pretty amazing," I said.

He grinned. "Only happens when I'm really turned on."

When we started to catch our breaths I reluctantly pulled out of him and went to get a towel to clean ourselves up. After that we lay on the bed, loosely cuddled in each other's arms. I felt my years finally catching up with me-my eyes were falling shut and try as I might I couldn't stay awake.

"All this for a secondhand shirt and a pair of Jockeys," I said to him. "Best bargain I ever picked up at the Goodwill."

Michael smiled, but looked a little funny.

"Stay with me, would you?" I asked, as a huge yawn came out of nowhere. "I just need a little rest-"

That was the last thing I remembered.

I don't know how long it was before I woke up, my eyes and brain sludgy with sleep. The sun had set, and the bedroom was almost dark. The house was silent and stuffy.

I was alone. Michael was gone, and so were his clothes.

I walked out of the bedroom into the hallway. I told myself I hadn't been expecting any more than what I got-in fact, what I'd gotten was a whole lot more than what I'd been expecting.

So why did I feel so empty inside?

I went to the kitchen and poured myself a glass of water to wash the taste of sex from my mouth. In a moment I'd jump in the shower and get myself cleaned up. Then I'd try and put the memory of Michael behind me.

Something caught my eye on the kitchen table-three bills, a ten and two ones. I was sure I hadn't put the money there. My cell phone was lying nearby, and as I picked up the cash it rang, startling me.

I didn't recognize the number on the caller ID. I put the phone to my ear.

"Hey, you're awake," Michael's voice said.

My heart leaped with what I realized was joy. "Hey," I said, trying to keep my voice casual. "How did you get my number?"

He chuckled. "Off your phone when you were asleep. Sorry I snooped around. I guess I could have left mine, but I was afraid you wouldn't call if I did."

"Why wouldn't I call?" He was so sweet. "Hey, what's with the cash?"

"Oh, that's for the clothes."

I clicked my tongue. "That was a present, for Pete's sake."

"I felt kind of weird about it. I didn't want you to think I went home with you just because you bought me something. I mean, I'm not into that."

So he was upset when I told him he'd been a bargain. What was with a guy who'd take cum up his ass from me, but not a few secondhand clothes? Young people these days were so strange.

"Michael, I'm sorry I said that about the clothes. That was tacky. Forgive me?"

"Well, sure." He sounded relieved.

"If I can't buy you clothes, can I buy you dinner?"

"I guess." I could see him shrugging. "Not Chinese food, though;"

"You don't like Chinese?"

"I work at a Chinese restaurant. That's where I am right now. That's why I left, I had to go to work. I didn't want to wake you up."

"You can have any kind of food you want. Then after we eat we can go shopping. After you fuck me."

He laughed. "Sounds good."

So I took Michael out to dinner and we went shopping, at Sears this time, after he'd fucked me (with a condom). It's been months and he's still hanging with me, lord knows why. The only fights we've had are when I've told him he ought to find someone younger.

"Lee, can you get it through your thick head. I know I can date guys my own age. I don't want to. I want to be with you."

So I've given up and made up my mind to enjoy this thing with Michael while it lasts. He still prefers wearing baggy boxers, but if I ask him to, he'll put on that first pair of orange briefs I got him. That always gets me going, of course.

"I love Goodwill," I told him once, as I peeled the underwear off of him for the hundredth time. "You sure can find great stuff if you look."

"I love Goodwill too," Michael said. "Hot guys shop there."

"Mm," I said, as I eased his cock into my mouth, "I'll drink to that."

END