Date: Sun, 19 Apr 2009 21:08:49 +1000
From: James Gippsland <jamesgippsland@hotmail.com>
Subject: Billy the Kid

Billy the Kid
This is a true story, only the name has been changed.

Billy the kid had been working for me for about three months before I
finally summoned the courage to feel him up.

Let me explain. And give you some details. I'm 42, 6' 3 tall, Australian,
blond, with blue eyes. I'm in good shape -- all that surfing, swimming and
crap! And I have a landscape business. Build garden walls, plant and mulch,
concreting, whatever. Its physical work. Hard on the muscles. Good on the
physique. You catch my drift?

I started the business some ten years ago. Been going really well recently.
I'm fully stretched to keep up. So much so, I don't have time for my own
stuff. I live in the country, away from all the action, on seven acres.
Gardens, paddocks, a few animals, whatever. The garden in particular was
getting out of hand. Grass was long, weeds were getting established. It was
depressing me. And if any customer had seen it, it wouldn't have done my
reputation any good.

I'd had a lad working for me two years previously, just Saturdays. He was
alright. Just. More interested in the money than the work. He did a lot of
sport, had a bit of weight on him, yet seemed to loose it when I showed
interest in him. Went walking/running, played tennis, did weight
training. He began to look hot!

We talked about sex and all that, and he was clearly straight. Only
straight. The one time I made a move on him, after what I thought was a bit
of a come on by him, I only got as far as stroking his naked torso. He
stood still and took it. It lasted for two or three minutes and he seemed
to enjoy it. But as my hand moved further south he pulled away. "Nah mate,
no thanks," and that was the end of that.

He left when I wouldn't increase his wages -- for the third time.

So when I took on Billy, I wasn't sure what was going to happen. I told him
what I needed -- I mean as a gardener! And yeh, he could manage that, with
a bit of instruction. He came of a Saturday, four hours at a time. He
worked hard. The son of a farmer, he knew what hard work meant. But he
dressed in long pants and a heavy top. I despaired I'd ever get a glimpse
of what was underneath. Then one week he was going to cricket after working
for me, and needed to get changed before being picked up by a mate. I stood
and watch him changed. I mean, I wanted a good look at anything I could
see. But I also wanted him to KNOW that I wanted to check him over. He was
(IS) so shy. He avoided changing for as long as he could then just had to
get on with it. He stripped off his T shirt.

His lad is young. He's not long had his 18th (In Australia, that's when
everything happens -- voting, drinking, etc. Now you're an adult. Although
interestingly sex between consenting 16 year olds is legal). He's about
5'9", and I've since found out he's 77 kgs in weight and has size 7 shoes!
He has brown hair, cut short, but the sort just want to run your hands
through (I do, as often as I can get away with it!), shaves occasionally,
has deep brown eyes and an amazing smile. I'm always a sucker for a smile.

When he stripped his shirt off, he looked at me. I nearly looked away. I
mean, that's what I would do in other circumstances when I was checking a
guy out. Turn away just before he caught me looking at him. And then turn
and ogle him when he wasn't looking! But this time I wanted to send Billy a
message. An unspoken message, I want to look at you.

He blushed a little. So shy, so cute. And I continued to watch. His body
was slim, but tight with young muscle. I was amazed. I hadn't expected
this, underneath what he had been wearing week by week. Obviously his farm
work and sport was paying off. He had a thin line of navel hair (a snail
trail) disappearing into his trousers. And as he lifted up his arms to
strip his T off, I caught sight of his well haired pits under his arms.

Unfortunately, being as shy as he was, he put his cricket T on, covering
his beautiful body. Then he took down his trousers to put his cricket pants
on. I could see very little, as the cricket T shirt covered his body,
falling down over his ass. I just caught a quick glimpse of a well known
brand of Australian briefs. I love briefs, rather than boxers, especially
on a young slim body. I continued to watch, and he looked up a couple of
times and caught me peering at him. I didn't care. "Mmmm" I
said. "Briefs. Hot." He blushed again.

Over the next few weekends, he loosened up a little. We joshed around. I
found his MSN address and we chatted a couple of times late at night. He's
still at school -- final year. Unfortunately he doesn't have his own
computer, just borrows his parents. But it's amazing what you can say to a
guy in "chat" that perhaps you wouldn't risk, face to face.

The school holidays came round. I had extra work on, and suddenly thought
"Billy!" I offered him a week's work, labouring for me, and doing a few
extra, mowing and the like. Yeh he was interested. His mother would have to
drop him off at my place early each morning. (His mother, aiiiii!!!!
There`s a woman. Has Billy on a string, does everything for him.
Controlling. The sooner he leaves home -- if he's allowed to -- the
better!)

So Billy spent the day either working next to me, sitting in my cab next to
me, or fooling around at lunchtime or morning tea. Once he came out of his
shell, he's a scream. Dry, dry humour. Sharp as a tack. And we talked about
forbidden subjects. Sometimes just in passing, sometimes for three or four
minutes. Bodies, muscles, wanking, cuming (he had me in fits over an
episode when he was just about shooting and orgasming in the shower room,
trying not to moan too loudly, when mother starts banging on the door
yelling "What you doing in there Billy???"

This week it's warmer, so he wears shorts. Much better. Nice legs. I tell
him. I think maybe he's copying me. His diet improves, and by the end of
the week there's actually two pieces of fruit in his lunch box. We get
friendly. We push and shove. Nothing too serious, he's still very shy. He's
already told me a few times that he's got a girlfriend, as if to put me in
my place. But as I get to know him, I push the topic and it becomes clear
that he and his girlfriend have never done anything sexually. I mean at
first "of course we've had sex" but, after a while, yeh right, nothing's
every happened. I mean EVER. I don't think that kid would let anyone near
his pecker at the moment.

Like I say we talk about "stuff". Man stuff. Like, not the sort of stuff
that a 42 year old and an 18 year would maybe usually talk about, unless...
Well, I live in hope. A few times, say after we've been sitting down for
lunch or whatever, he'll get up, and give this exaggerated stretch, making
his shirt ride up his body, revealing his navel. I look. Of course I
look. And he looks at me. We smile. That secret "I think I know what you're
think, but I'm scared to put it into words" type smile. We horse around,
then back to work. Occasionally my hands slip onto his knees, say, when
he's next to me in the ute. At first he recoiled, moved his legs out of the
way quickly. Then he sort of moved them. Now they stay still, and I get a
quick feel. But only ever his knees you understand, nothing north of them!!

Which is why I was so surprised yesterday.

He'd been working in my garden again. We'd worked together side by side. He
was obviously tired after the week, but we still had some fun. Then it was
time for a break. "In the shed," I said. I have a shed, place to keep
garden stuff, few chairs and the like. We usually go there for a coffee
half way through his time with me. We chatted, drank the coffee, stood up
to get back to work. He stretched, arms above his head, sort of twisting
his back as if in some discomfort.

"Stiff back?" I said.

"Yeh."

"Here, let me give you a rub down."

I made him stand with his hands on the wooden beam supporting the roof. He
was stretched, and his hands wouldn't interfere with mine. I massaged his
shoulders initially, through his T shirt.

"You're tense," I said.

Slowly my hands worked under his shirt, lifting it up for better access,
and continuing to rub his now accessible shoulders. For the first time, I
felt his smooth boy skin, the muscles moving under his skin. My hands went
down his back, across the small of his back, round his waist. I reached in
closer, and felt around his front. Ahhh, his belly, so flat and firm, with
just a powdering of hair. Reaching upwards to his chest. I am surprising
myself. He's just standing there, and I'm doing this. No planning. It just
-- happened. I reach his nipples, rubbing them so gently, then very lightly
twisting one. Then my hands scoot back down to his belly.

I want to do more, so much more. I don't know what to say, but I know I'm
enjoying it. Then he let's go of the wooden beam. Maybe he has pins and
needles in his arms; maybe he's had enough of what I'm doing. I don't
know. I just know that for three or four minutes I've been in heaven. We
still down again, and there's silence. I see he has a hard on. Nothing
enormous, but certainly his shorts have tented a little. So are mine.

"Right, well, back to work," I say, to cover any embarrassment.

The rest of the afternoon passes. At first I think he's pissed off with me,
but it passes. Maybe he's pissed off that I stopped! Who's to tell? Late in
the day we laugh and josh around. I pay him, and take him home. It's a 20
minute ride, and we're both quiet most of the way. Have I ruined things? Is
he working things through?

He gets out of the ute. Shakes my hand (I always instead on body contact
wherever possible.) "Thanks." he says, "For this week. (Pause) And...
today. (Pause) Again... next week?" There's just the slightest inflection
of begging in his voice as if I might say that I didn't want him to come
again.

Billy, you must be joking. Of course I want you again. I want to go
further. To feel your smooth boy skin and gentle muscle. To stroke your
nipples. To play around your navel, and slowly, oh so slowly, slide my hand
inside your shorts, but outside your grey briefs, and feel your young cock
hardening in my grasp. To slowly strip you, and run my fingers over your
naked frame, whilst you stretch your hands to the wooden beam in the shed,
and I gently press your legs apart, giving me access to both your butt and
aching cock. Oh yes, your cock would be hard. You may be "straight" Billy
boy, but you like the feel of my fingers. And you've yet to feel the touch
of my lips and tongue on your cock. Your first blow job it will be, of that
I'm sure. Because you see Billy, I'm convinced that you're a virgin.

"Yes, Billy. Next week. Same time."

"Same place," he says. And smiles at me.



Emails to jamesgippsland@hotmail.com

All comments appreciated, especially the horny ones!!!!