Date: Mon, 13 Jun 2005 14:07:46 -0700 (PDT)
From: Rob Hoek <storyguy22@yahoo.com>
Subject: busboy, dreamboy (1)

Another work of fiction, originating in the dream-land that is the demented
mind of storyguy22. If there is s legal or moral issue that says you
shouldn't read a tale that will depict sexual activity between males, at
least one of which is underage, then please carry on elsewhere. Having said
that, proceed, and enjoy!


Maybe it was in my Gene pool, or possibly some type of repressed
development, I'm not really sure. Regardless the reason, the fact remained
that my chief sexual interest had been young males since I had been one
myself. As a teen, I wasn't much different than the other boys that made up
my peer group. As we progressed through the dreaded puberty, and suffered
the incredible horniness, and curiosities that went with the experience, we
had experimented with each other frequently. All boys, or at least a large
percentage, go through that "phase" then, move on. The difference in my
particular case is that I am still in the "phase" at almost 25 years of
age. My sexual interest had blossomed with an attraction to young teen
boys, and it just never changed.

I kept it in check from the time that I became "of age", mostly due to the
social, and criminal ramifications associated with having a carnal
knowledge of underage boys once one has been legally classified as an
adult. Not to say that noble accomplishment had come easy, anything
but. However, with the assistance of countless ice cold showers, and
various similar distractions, I had managed to control my urges, and stay
out of trouble. The one small weakness that I am yet to completely overcome
is frequent yielding to the temptation to position myself in "target rich
environments".  These tend to include parks, video arcades, music stores,
and large shopping malls. Purely in "observation" mode, I would avail
myself frequently of the myriad of eye-candy that tended to populate such
venues in the form of teenage boys, many of which unwittingly provided
supple jack-off fodder for my private evenings following such outings. On
rare occasions, a few male friends of my own age group had their ego's
greatly assuaged, thinking it was their own sexual prowess that had
elicited such an extreme response from me, when I bedded one of them
following a session at the arcade etc. Little did they realize that they
were merely the physical receptor of the graphic mental video playing in my
head, staring one, or several, of the local teen hotties I had earlier
encountered in my surveillance.

So here I was, a closet boy-lover, finishing a year of Grad studies at the
local University, an effort to enhance my degree a notch, thereby also,
hopefully, enhancing my future career competitiveness. To provide myself
with the necessary sustenance of life, namely room and board, I was working
as a server at a popular local dinner house. I had gotten into restaurant
work during high school, and liked it ok, and certainly the mostly tax-free
tips were a bonus of the trade.

 Home, and hearth consisted of a small 2 bedroom apartment located atop a
detached garage on a fairly substantial estate. The place was owned by a
prominent defense Attorney, and his Attorney wife, who frequently conducted
their craft in far-flung locales, leaving me the run of the place on a
pretty regular basis. I had hardly set foot inside the huge main house, but
I was pretty much the most frequent user of the various amenities the high
dollar place provided, including the Olympic sized pool, and the killer
spa/hot tub. In exchange for keeping an eye on the place in his absence,
the owner cut me some slack on the rent, and I was actually living much
better than my starving college student cash flow would dictate. I got
around town in my '96 Mustang, a hold over from my 16th birthday present
from my parents. It was my baby, and it still had the showroom gleam it had
come with, and it caught the attention of more that a few of my favorite
subjects as I tooled through the streets of town.

I suppose, in my heart of hearts, I knew he was trouble the first time I
saw him. Anytime my heart does that screwy little flip, I should consider
it a warning bleep, and run like hell! I often have wondered why it is that
we so seldom listen to our inner voices. I mean, who knows me, better than
me, right? As I watched the manager steer him toward his office across the
large cavernous kitchen, that inner voice was all but yelling in my
head. Did I pay a scintilla of attention? Course not! I just stood there,
feeling my heart do that goofy flip, and, I suppose, stared. It had been
some time since I had experienced the heart flip thing, which was yet
another warning bell I chose to ignore. The manager got waylaid by one of
the Chefs, and he stepped away from the boy, giving me an unencumbered view
of him, albeit a distant one.

Damn, what a drop dead cutie this one was! Kind of baby faced, so he might
well have been older than the 15 or 16 I pegged him at. A full, and thick
head of styled, jet black hair, loosely parted down the center, and flowing
slightly over small ears. The face was lean, and slightly olive toned,
almost a chiseled look, adorned with eyes so blue in color that I could
clearly make that distinction even from this distance. It crossed my mind
that this is what Tom Cruise would have looked like at 15 or 16. The
manager spoke to him, and he smiled, his perfect, snow white teeth flashing
into view, and I noted the dimples dotting each smooth cheek. Fuck, he's
hot, really right next to being actually pretty, in an all male kind of
way! My guess put him at maybe 5' 9" or so, and his slim, but toned build
probably scaled in around 140, give or take. He was dressed in a short
sleeved, button down collar type shirt, over a pair of Kaki slacks, Dockers
type, and some tan, comfortable looking shoes that were oft favored by
those of us who spend a great deal of time on our feet. The pants were
typically baggy, so no joy with determining the extent of his treasures,
but I accepted the given that any boy as adequately blessed in the looks
department as this one, would certainly be equally blessed where it
counted.

A cog in my cerebellum finally snapped into place with sufficient force to
make me aware that Adonis was actually looking in my direction, that killer
smile pasted onto his luscious mouth, and a hand making a small waving
gesture. Realizing that I probably looked like a starving man eyeballing a
prime rib roast, I snapped my drooling mouth closed, grinned, and returned
the small wave. The manager chose that particular moment to return to the
boy' side, and place his hand on his shoulder, again steering the boy
toward his office, entering, and closing the door. I sighed deeply, and
forced myself to shake off the encounter, and got busy with work. The image
of that smile, and small wave, was not going away anytime soon, I knew.

The following day was my day off work, and as I toiled through my domestic
chores, and while I did some intense cramming for an upcoming exam at
school, the boy was in the forefront of my demented brain. My curiosity was
eating at me, who was he, what had he been doing with the restaurant
manager, would I ever see him again. I tried, seriously, to push him out of
my mind, and failed miserably.

When I clocked into work the following day, there was a note in my time
card slot to see Rich, the manager, before I went out on the floor. I tied
on my apron, and skirted the length of the kitchen, then knocked on his
office door. He called out to come in, and I opened the door, and stepped
into the small office. "You wanted to see^Å^Å..me? I stammered, my heart
doing that flip thing again, as I looked into the oh-so-blue eyes of the
dream boy, seated across from my boss. Rich looked up, and answered, "Yea I
did, Josh^Å.Ryan, meet Josh^ÅJosh^Å.Ryan..!" The boss said, and, just like
that, I knew him! Ryan stood, that breath taking smile again crossing his
face, and extended his hand toward me, saying, "Hey, Josh^Å.good meeting
you!" I gripped his soft, warm hand in mine, and was rewarded with a firm
grip. "Hi Ryan^Å.very nice meeting you, too!" I managed, and reluctantly
released his hand. Rich indicated a chair, and both Ryan and I sat
down. "Ryan is joining our Intern program, Josh, as a buss person for
starters, and I thought I'd start him off on your station, and you could
kind of show him the ropes." I nodded, and smiled at Adonis, saying,
"Cool^Å.very cool^Å.and^Å.welcome aboard, Ryan!" He grinned at me again,
and said, "Thanks^Å..I'll try really hard not to make your work life overly
miserable, Josh!" Christ, even the sound of the kid's voice pulled my
chain! I smiled, and mumbled something about it would all be cool, I was
sure.

Rich went on to explain that Ryan was taking part in his high school intern
program, and that he had an interest in possible restaurant ownership in
the future, so he had selected this particular vocational experience. He
further explained that since Ryan was under 16, albeit by only 4 months, he
would be limited to three 8 hour shifts, and one 4 hour shift, per week,
and that initially, he had scheduled him to coincide with my shifts, so
that he could gain his early experience under my tutorage. I^ÅSO^ÅWISH..!
Rich asked me to fix Ryan up with work uniforms, a time card, etc, and
begin showing him the inner workings of the busy establishment. We rose,
and exited the office, and I steered the young beauty to the storage room
where the clean laundry was stored. Ok, guilty, I set it up so that he
walked in front of me, and yes, I definitely checked out his cute butt as
we walked!

We entered the store room, and I walked to the shelf where the black slacks
we wore this time of year were stacked. I let my eyes drift down to his
slim waist, and asked, "Size 30^Å?" A soft, pink blush crept over his
cheeks, and he answered, "Actually, I'm size 28." I retrieved 4 pairs of
size 28 pants, then moved to the shirt shelf, again eyeing his torso, and
asking his size. "Medium shirt do you^Å?" He nodded, and I stacked 5 of the
pull-over type golf shirts we all wore, emblazoned with the restaurant
name, and handed them to him. "An extra shirt^Åthose tend to get slimed,
from time to time, around here." Again he nodded, then asked where the
bathroom was, so he could get changed. I told him the employee bathroom was
a very small, unisex one-holer, barely big enough to turn around in, and
changing in the storeroom would probably be way easier. He blushed again,
but nodded his head.

I moved a straight back chair in front of the door, and sat on it backward,
my back close to the door, but facing Ryan. "I'll guard the door while you
change^Åwouldn't want any of those oversexed waitresses barging here to
molest you!" I grinned. He chuckled, and said, "Awww^Å..why not, Dude?" I
laughed, but made no reply. I made idle chit-chat about the workings of the
place, and gossiped a tad about some of the more colorful of our fellow
employees while Ryan began getting undressed. Easy, there, heart-flips,
just go easy, I thought to myself. He unbuttoned his shirt, and peeled it
off, revealing a smooth, lightly developed chest. His build was slim by
nature, but there was a slight definition to his pec's, and shoulders. His
hairless chest was dotted with two tan colored nipples, maybe the size of a
quarter coin. His tummy was flat, and equally as smooth, and hairless as
his chest, and he had the cutest little inverted button you ever saw!
"Nice, Ryan^Å" I commented, "Pretty tight, Dude^Å.you lift,^Å.or^Å?" He
flexed just a tad, and answered, "Na^Ånothing serious^ÅI did swim team for
a couple years, is all." I flicked my eyes over his bare torso, and felt my
dick give a short jolt, and said, "Cool^Åwhatever^Åit's working good!" he
blushed again, then sat down, and pulled off his shoes.

Standing again, his hands went to his belt, undoing, and unzipping, he slid
them down his legs, and stepped out of them. Oh^Å.FUCK!!! In a matter of
like 3 seconds, I had a seriously^Åuh^Åhard problem! My cock accomplished
what may well have been a personal best, as it unfurled in my boxers,
stretching and swelling to its full 7"! The boy was wearing an extremely
skimpy, and snug, little bikini style briefs, and they were, indeed, round
and firm, and fully packed, as the ancient cigarette ad used to say! If the
tobacco companies could have used this stud for a model with that line, I'm
sure the country would still be full of fully hooked smokers today! The boy
was standing there just oozing sex, and I vowed then and there to refrain
from spending too much alone time with him, lest I completely blow my
cover, if you will forgive the horrible pun!

He turned away, and bent slightly, to retrieve the uniform pants from the
bench, and flashed that peaches and cream bubble butt at me, damn near
causing a serious mess in my boxers! I seized the moment to rise, and
quickly turn toward the door, hiding my very tented crotch, and mumbled
that I'd be right back, then slipped out the door. Whew, I thought, as I
leaned against the outside of the door, that is one very hot boy, indeed!
Composed, and hard-on under control, barely, I re-entered the room. Ryan
was tying his shoes, fully outfitted in the uni of the day, and he stood,
smiled, and gave me a small turn-around, as I softly clapped my hands,
grinning like the Cheshire Cat! We stowed Ryan's street clothes, and I
commenced a tour of the facility.

While showing him around the inner bowels of the kitchen, and my work
station, well, ours, I learned that he was not a total stranger to the food
business, by virtue of a summer gig part time at a fast food joint. He
seemed highly interested in what I had to say, and appeared eager to get
into things. We ended up at my little computer station, where I input
orders to the kitchen, and handled the customer's tabs. One couple was just
vacating a table in our section, so I handed Ryan the bus tray, and said,
"Ok Champ, it's show time!" And I led him to the vacated table, where we
deftly cleared away all traces of the previous occupants. He was a very
quick study, and by the end of the shift, he was handling most all of the
coffee and water refills, as well as efficiently whisking away salad and
soup services like a pro, deftly charming the customers with his bright
smiles, and natural charms! It proved to be a fairly busy evening, and by
shift end, I happily handed him just over $40.00, representing his share of
my tips. He pocketed that with a brilliant grin, mumbling, "I'm sooo gonna
love this job!"

(To Be Continued)

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