This story contains descriptions of explicit sexual acts between men and boys eighteen and over. All legal disclaimers apply. If this topic offends you, do not read any further; and ask yourself why you are at this site.
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This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events or locations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental, although it may be loosely based on real events and people.
If you meet the criteria then read on, enjoy, and kindly let me know what you think. On the sites that provide for you to rate the stories or leave comments, I value your thoughts and opinion; I would also like to hear from you personally. Personal stories and accounts of your own similar experiences are always welcome. Contact me at Peterbilt222@hotmail.com
The Young and Not So Young
I hated to think I was getting old at forty-three but the kid left me exhausted. I never let on, though. While he was in the shower it gave me a moment to catch my breath and rest up from the ferocious fuck he'd given me. My asshole was still quivering from the pounding it'd taken. I heard the shower turn off and slid up on the bed to lean back against the headboard. The streaks of my own semen ran slowly down my chest and stomach. It was a thick load, leaving big globs along the trail. He appeared with the towel around his shoulders, pulling it back and forth, causing his mammoth cock to swing like a pendulum. He was big. Mammoth for a kid his age. Fuck, how did a kid still in his teens grow a cock that size? He chuckled at the mess I'd made on myself.
"You could get in the shower with me," he said.
"If I got in the shower with you, you would never get to work," I said. I lay there drinking the sight of his lean, muscular body, every muscle tight, yet flexible. His abs especially were tight as a drumhead. And his cock...My Godd, he was hung like a young stallion! I wondered what his mother was feeding him. Or maybe it was his genes; if so, I wanted to meet his dad.
"You really blasted a load there, dude," he observed with a grin.
"Yeah. It's more like you pumped it out of me," I said as I scooped up the come clinging to my pecs and wiped it on the sheet. All I did was break down the big globs. I had forgotten to get his money. I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and made another swipe at the mess of semen on my chest.
"Here," he said, handing me his towel.
I took it and wiped the stuff off then went to my dresser. I took out a twenty-dollar bill and laid it on the corner of the bed.
"Sometimes I feel guilty about taking your money," he said.
"Don't," I said. "It's what I said I would do."
"But you don't need to. I don't do it for the money. I get as much out of it as you do," he said.
"No, you don't. You just think you do."
"Well, I know its pretty fuckin' fantastic sex every time we get together," he said as he started getting dressed.
"Multiply that by ten and you've got how much I get out of it," I said. I smiled as I watched him getting dressed. "Slow down," I said.
He paused as he was about to slip his T-shirt on, giving me a funny grin
"I just hate to see you cover up that great looking body," I said.
He laughed and held the T-shirt at his side, offering me a longer look at his beautifully muscles upper body.
"Do that again," I said.
"Do what?"
"Laugh. I like to watch your stomach muscles ripple when you laugh."
He only smiled, but couldn't keep from laughing and I got another little show of rippling young muscle.
"You're embarrassing me," he said.
"Okay, go ahead and put your shirt on. But first...come over here," I said, waving him over to where I sat on the edge of the bed. He walked over to me and stood between my spread legs. I wrapped my arms around his lean waist and pulled him in and clamped my mouth over his right pec and began licking his nipple.
"Awwww, Fuucckkkkkk!" he cried.
My lips formed a smile around his tit as I kept flicking it with my tongue. I moved to the other one and he yelped again. I didn't linger because I knew he had to get to work.
"How was that?" I asked.
"Mannn, I didn't even know guys had feelings there," he said.
"Sure they do. Look how yours are standing out," I said.
"I want you to do that to me some more next time," he said as he quickly pulled his T-shirt on.
I slipped on a pair of shorts to walk him to the door. Not that he needed an escort out but I wanted to see him out. I wanted to lay eyes on him as long as possible and that meant watching him walk to his bike. Yeah, he still rode a bike; couldn't afford a car yet. Somehow, it only added to the youthful aura I so loved about him. He punched me playfully in the stomach as he walked past me out the door.
"Keep those abs tight, man," he said.
"Yeah, you too," I said. Like he needed to; his stomach was like a plate of amour. I watched till he was out of sight then closed the door.
His name was Cruz, and how I met him was a fluke. He was an exceptional kid, aside from the physical. I learned that he went to school, a senior, and worked three part-time jobs plus whatever odd jobs he could get. He was a lifeguard at the pool, he worked for the parks department, and at the grocery store, which is where I met him. I'd gone to the store on the way home from work, right at the end of his shift. I was his last customer, he said, before he got off work, and he was looking forward to getting off, I figured because he had a date with some sexy chick.
"Got a date?" I asked him with a knowing grin.
"Nope. Can't afford a date except on weekends," he said.
I hated going to the grocery store, and stopped by only for the few things I needed on a day-to-day basis. In between times, every four months or so, I stocked up on non-perishables and canned goods by the case. I had three carts filled with cases of stuff and he was helping take them out of the cart to be scanned then placed back in the cart.
"I can help you out with this stuff," he offered.
"I didn't know the store offered carry out service to my truck," I said.
"It doesn't, but I'm going off duty, I can help wheel the carts out and load it in your car."
"Okay, thanks. I'm not going to turn down an offer like that," I said.
We wheeled the carts out and he helped me stack the cases into the back of my pickup. I purposely let him unload most of them so I could watch his young, hard muscles ripple as he worked.
"Now if I just had somebody to help me unload when I get home," I remarked as I gave him a five-dollar bill.
"Thanks. I can help you," he offered.
"No, you've done enough," I said. Then I realized that perhaps he was trying to earn some more money. "On second thought, if it wouldn't be too much trouble...I live just up the road, out in the country a little bit."
"No trouble at all," he said. "I'll go get my stuff and be right back."
Moments later he came rushing back across the parking lot on his bike with his backpack. He screeched to a halt he tossed his backpack in the truck then picked up his bike like it was nothing and put it in the back of the truck. Again, I noticed the way his young muscles rippled when he did it.
At my house, I pulled into the garage and put the door down. Don't ask me why I did that. My subconscious at work, I suppose, racing way ahead of my brain. He helped me unload and stack the stuff on the shelves in the garage. I dug in my pocket but didn't have the right bills to give him.
"Come on inside," I told him.
"If you're going to get more money, forget it. The five bucks was enough."
"The hell it was," I said, standing at the open door, motioning him inside. He obliged and walked past me into the kitchen. I went in and discreetly locked the door behind me; I didn't think he noticed. I went into my den and got some more money.
"Here, and thanks," I said, handing him another ten.
"You don't need to do this," he said, holding the bill like he might hand it back to me.
"You didn't have to help me with my groceries," I said. Suddenly I felt panic. He acted like he was about to leave. I couldn't let that happen. I had this young god in my house and it might be the only time this opportunity was upon me. But I didn't know what to do, what to say to keep him there. Or if I should. He was riding a bike, for chrissakes, which meant he didn't have a car. Did he even have a license? I had guessed him to be eighteen, simply because he was working in the grocery store. He was built like it. But, there was the bike, and he looked so young; I couldn't shake it.
"I gotta get my bike out of your truck," he said.
"Yes," I said, feeling my panic increase as he made a move toward the door to the garage. "I didn't get your name," I said. It sounded stupid, asking when he was ready to leave.
"Cruz," he said.
"Nice name," I said. I had to find out how old he was, but I didn't want to ask and appear too obvious. I started talking to him about sports and school and girls and the usual stuff that kids his age were interested in and found out he was a senior, he didn't have time to play sports and he didn't have a car so he only dated when he could afford it and was able to borrow his dad's car. Okay, as a senior, he could easily be eighteen. Or seventeen if he was one of those kids who started kindergarten early. Or eighteen if maybe he got held back a grade. I was at the age that I couldn't judge the ages of the younger generation very well. From the neck down he looked well over eighteen. His face, though...he looked younger than his body. Finally, I just came out and asked him.
"Look...are you eighteen?" I blurted out.
He gave me a funny look. "Yeah, as of a week ago," he said, in a tone like, why are you asking me that.
I stifled a sigh of relief. "Listen, if you're interested, there's more where that came from," I said, nodding to the pocket where he'd put the money. "Depending on what you're willing to do for it," I added.
He gave me that funny look again. "What do I have to be willing to do?" he asked.
"You ever have sex with another man?" I asked.
He looked dumbfounded, but not scared.
"No," he replied simply, making it sound like his answer was a no-brainer, that he would never consider doing such a thing and I was a dumb-ass for asking.
"Are you willing to try it...for twenty bucks?" I asked.
"What would I have to do?" he asked with a suspicious look, but with interest.
"Lay back and enjoy it," I said.
He looked at his watch.
"Do you have to be someplace?" I asked.
"I just need to call my dad."
I motioned to the phone on the wall. As he dialed I had the God-awful thought that maybe he was calling his dad for the wrong reason. I could just hear him telling him that he was at some old geezer's house and he wanted to have sex with him, would it be okay. I didn't think that was the reason for his call but I was tensed, ready to grab the phone from him. He told his dad he would be a little late, he wasn't sure how late. I felt guilty listening to the boy making excuses to his father why he would be home late; what would the man think if he knew the reason was that he was going to have sex with a man old enough to be his father. He didn't offer an explanation and apparently his dad didn't ask for one. He hung up the phone and looked at me.
"What do I have to do?" he asked again.
"You don't have to do anything," I said. "I don't want this to be like I'm buying you. I'm just offering the twenty bucks as...well, out of appreciation, and for your time."
"Okay, let's say you're renting me," he said.
I laughed. "Okay, I can go with that."
"Okay, what do you want your rent boy to do?" he asked.
"Well, you can start by stripping down," I said.
"You know, if this is going where I think it's going, I really need a shower," he said. "I did a lot of heavy work back in the storeroom today."
"No you don't. I don't mind honest sweat," I said.
"Okay, if you say so," as he started taking off his clothes.
"By the way, where do you think its going?" I asked with a smile.
"Well, drawing the natural conclusions, I figure you're gonna give me a blow job." He laid his T-shirt over the back of the chair.
"You're on the right track, but I hope its more than that," I said. I watched him as he unbuckled his belt, his pecs and abs and the muscles in his arms rippling with the motion. He squatted down to unlace his work boots and took them off and his back flared out wide. I was pleased that he seemed so at ease taking off his clothes. He shoved his jeans down and balanced on one leg then the other to pull them off. I took them for him, gazing wantonly at him in his tiny briefs and socks.
"Do you want my socks off?" he asked.
"Doesn't matter," I said. "Wait, would you mind putting your boots back on?"
"Okay," he said, and sat down to slip them back on. He tied them then stood again.
"Geezusss. Nice," I said, eyeing his young, muscular frame clad now in just his baseball cap, briefs and his work boots. Godd, he looked sexy! He just shrugged at my compliment, as if he didn't get what the big deal was. He shifted his weight then hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his briefs but I stopped him.
"Those can wait," I said. "Let's go back to the bedroom."
He followed me down the hallway and stood in the middle of the room as I closed the door, looking as if he didn't know what to expect, or what to do next. I walked up to him and ran my hands down his sides till I shoved my thumbs in the waistband of his shorts. I went to my knees in front of him as I pulled them down. I was greatly surprised at what jumped out at me. He was impressive in his briefs but he hadn't displayed such a large bulge and I reared back when his cock swung free.
"Geezusss!" I gasped softly as I tugged his briefs down and took them off of him. He was smiling with pride, and with good reason. "Dam, how did you manage to grow anything this big?" I asked him as I took his balls in my hand.
"It just took off this summer," he said.
"Well, let's hope it keeps growing," I said.
"Not too much bigger, I hope," he said. "I'm already bigger than my dad."
"You can never have too big a cock," I told him as I wrapped my hand around it. It bucked in my hand and he thrust forward, driving it through my fist. I pumped my hand up and down the shaft several times then pulled it straight down and wrapped my mouth around the head.
"AAAaahhhhhhhhh!" he cried out, tossing his head back.
I moved my mouth up and down the shaft several times, slurping the head with my tongue. His young, muscular legs began to tremble.
"Ohhhh...Ohhh, Geezusss, Mister...Ohhhh, fuck...AAAwwhhh, I never had anything feel like this!" he moaned. "Ohh, fuck, suck it...suck it, man...oh, fuck, nothing ever felt this good."
I eased him backwards and urged him to lie back across the bed. I crawled between his legs and hovered over his middle and began sucking him again. He was hotter than a house afire. I had to lean over him and lay my forearms on his hips to keep him in place so I could suck him. Still, he writhed under me, thrusting his cock up into my mouth and several times into my throat, choking me.
"Ease off, boy, let me do the work," I told him. "I'll take you. Don't worry, I'll gobble your big cock right down to your balls, but let me get used to it."
"Fuck, I can't lay still," he moaned, still twisting his butt around in the mattress. "It's so fuckin; good, I just can't lay still."
I smiled and went back down on him. And suddenly found out just how good it was for him. I had barely closed my mouth around the head of his cock before he began spewing his load into my mouth. He drew his legs up and locked his muscular thighs tightly around my head and thrust his cock at me unmercifully as he emptied his balls into my mouth. It was a stupendous come. I was stunned that a kid his age could blow such a heavy load. He filled my mouth with his salty-fresh semen. I held it till he was finished, his cockhead was encased in the stuff, then I swirled it around his cock several times before I began to swallow. He raised his head, his eyes wide as he realized that I was swallowing his load.
"Oh, Geezuss, Mister, you're eating it!" he gasped. "You're fuckin' swallowing my load!"
I finished gulping it down then washed his cock with my tongue before I raised up from between his thighs.
"Did you want me to save it for something?" I asked.
"No, I just can't believe...I mean, I didn't even mean to go off in your mouth, but I lost control. I really can't believe you actually swallowed the stuff."
"I will always swallow your stuff," I told him. "I would never let anything so precious go to waste.
That was the first time, and I knew it was just a blowjob to him. That was okay; it was more than that to me. The next time I went to the store, I made sure it was near the end of his shift and sure enough, he offered to help me with my groceries. It was no more than I could handle myself but I told him yes, I would appreciate it. Out at my truck, with a sly, hopeful grin, he asked me if I needed help unloading it.
"Are you sure its my groceries you're wanting to unload?" I chided him.
"Just thought I'd ask," he said with a shrug.
"Yes, I could use some help," I said. "And I'm sure you could too," I added.
"Yeah, that was pretty awesome last time," he said.
I pulled around to the back of the store this time where his bike was locked up and picked him up. It was better than people seeing him climb in my truck.
"Listen, when we get to my house, I want you to duck down till we get in the garage," I told him.
When we safely inside the garage, he carried my groceries in for me and right away started taking off his clothes.
That second time, and the times after that, he began to experience it as more than a simple blowjob. I felt that he was beginning to come to grips with his sexuality. Not that he was gay...I really didn't think he was...but he was learning how he could turn another man on.
I learned that his father was a construction foreman and was often out of town on a job, and one day I asked him if he would like to spend the night. He jumped on it. There was no mother in the picture so it was no problem. Those long, wonderful nights I initiated him into the wonders of my tongue in his ass, and he loved for me suck his tits. I held out as long as I could, purposely building him up to it, but finally I asked him if he would like to fuck me. He was speechless. I was surprised it hadn't entered his mind. He said, fuck yeah, so I initiated him into the joys of fucking another man's ass. He nearly went insane. The whole time he was fucking me that first time he kept saying, "Ohh, my Godd...Ohhh, Geezusss...Ohhh, fuck, I don't believe you're letting me do this." I let him do it three times that night, and he could've done it again except that we woke up too late and he had to get to school. But he stayed the next night and made up for it. He calmed down after a few times with the rhetoric, but he never slowed down in the action. The boy was absolutely insatiable. And like I've said, he wore me out. But I never complained. I don't think he ever stopped with any less than three times. I would simply turn over on my stomach for the third our fourth time and let him fuck me from behind, and not have to try to keep up with him.
I always left a twenty dollar bill on the dresser. No matter how much time we spent together or how many times we had sex, I always gave him twenty bucks. After awhile he told me not to, but I told him that was our deal. I took care of Cruze till he went away to college. He said when he left for college that he didn't know how he was going to get turned back on to women, but I assured him that I didn't think he would have any problem with that. He would more likely be beating them off with a club. But when he came home he always slept over at my place at least one night. Even though he met a girl and fell in love, I remained what we liked to call an integral part of his sex life the whole time he was in college.
When he got married I was invited to his bachelor party, right along with his younger friends. I was the only one left sober so it fell to me to get him home. As we were driving away from the club, he said, "Why don't you just take me to your place. You can make sure I'm sober in the morning."
"I don't know if that's such a good idea, Cruz," I said. "You're drunk and I'm not, and I'm afraid I might take advantage of that one last time."
He cocked around in the seat. "What do you mean one last time?"
"You're getting married tomorrow," I reminded him.
"I'm getting married, so you're turning me out to pasture?" he asked indignantly. "What is that, some kind of punishment for getting married?"
"Are you saying I get to share you with your wife?" I asked, surprised.
"I'm saying I don't know if my wife will be able to handle me, and it would be nice to know I had something in reserve," he said jokingly.
"Is that brag or based on fact?" I chided him.
"It's based on my experiences with women since I've been away at college," he said. "They always wear down before I do."
I knew that feeling. "Well, take it easy with the girl. You're a machine, you know," I told him.
"Well, if the machine needs oiling, or a little extra maintenance, it would be nice to know I could come to you for it."
"I don't want to come between you and your wife, but my door is always open to you," I assured him.
"I was thinking of more than just your door being open," he joked.
I smiled and squeezed his leg. "I could use a good lube job now and then if you've got any of that energy left over," I said.
The End
(If you liked the story--or if you didn't--I would appreciate hearing from you at Peterbilt222@hotmail.com. Especially if you've had anything like this happen to you, or anything close; I would like to hear about it. I get a lot of my inspiration and ideas from readers).
Thanks,
Pete