Date: Sat, 29 Apr 2017 16:16:18 -0400
From: The Paternal Watcher <mfvb@protonmail.com>
Subject: Coffee shop boys, chapter 2

Wednesdays, Gary worked a short shift, 2-6, mostly to provide breaks and
cover the after-school bump. Michael was part of that crowd, but not
Pete. When Gary finally got off the bar and went outside to bus the tables,
the boy was the only one sitting in the middle of what was either a trash
heap or a tornado strike. "Where did everybody go?"

Michael looked up from his phone. "Big football game at school, I guess."

"Not into sports?"

He rolled his eyes. "Not really, but usually I'm not alone."

Gary looked around the yard. "At least it gives me a chance to clean up
before my shift ends. You and your friends are slobs, but the way."

"Hey!" Michael said but, upon looking around himself, he decided to change
the subject. "What time do you get off?"

"When I get off is a personal question, but my shift ends at six," he
replied. It didn't look like Michael got it, and Gary continued to stare as
he waited for it to sink in. Seeing it would not, he rolled his eyes. "Get
off?" he said, simulating masturbation with his hand.

Realization sank in. "Oh!" Michael said, and then laughed. "You're weird."

"Gotta be if you work a job like this," Gary said as explanation.

"Anyway, Pete should be back by then, if you wanted to say hi."

Hmph, Gary thought to himself. What makes him think I do? "Why, you hoping
I'll steal some nitrous cartridges and do whip-its with you?"

"You could do that?" Michael said, his face showing excitement at the
prospect.

"You might be surprised what I'm capable of," Gary replied. Why don't you
two meet me in the parking garage at ten minutes after?"

Lifting a couple of boxes of the cartridges was not at all difficult, as
they were small. To use them, though, Gary needed to grab one of the
whipped-cream bottles as well, and those don't fit in a pocket because
they're basically the same size as a seltzer bottle, the kind that some
cartoon characters use to squirt each other in the face. He pocketed the
smaller pieces, and slipped the bottle itself out when he took out the
garbage.

The boys were on time.

Looking around the parking garage, Gary said, "This was a good place to
meet, but I'd rather not do this here. Are you guys okay with coming back
to my place? I can drop you back off here after, but doing whip-its here
would sketch me out."

Mike and Pete looked at each other, and something silently passed between
them. "Yeah, that's cool," Mike said, "but how much you got?"

Gary showed them the two boxes of ten each, and their eyes lit up. "This
should be more than enough," he told them, and they didn't seem to
disagree. He unlocked the car and both boys shouted, "Shotgun!"
simultaneously, then scrambling to take the front seat. Mike, the smaller,
tried to sit on Pete's lap, but Gary nixed that idea. "Sure way to get
pulled over, man. Sorry." Mike grudgingly got in the back seat, and they
were off.

At Gary's apartment, he showed them into the living room. His place wasn't
a hole, but certainly nothing like the homes these boys frequented.
Nevertheless, they didn't remark on the difference, as he'd half expected.
They also politely declined drinks, clearly more interested in what was to
come, so Gary turned to loading the bottle with nitrous.

"You can get what's called a cracker to open these," he said, "but then you
really need to fill a balloon instead. Because the gas is compressed it's
cold, and if you inhale it directly you can actually damage your lungs."

He demonstrated using the bottle, then let each boy take a deep inhale in
turn. They all sat back and enjoyed the feelings for the few moments that
they lasted.

"That's really intense!" Michael said finally.

"Yeah, but it's over so quick," said Pete, who was standing again,
apparently unable to sit still for long.

"We have a little more," pointed out Gary.

Pete started doing a handstand in the middle of the room, revealing a very
flat, very smooth, very white belly. When he righted himself, he said, "My
brother has a friend who got a machine, like the dentists have. He hooked
himself up to it and his girlfriend sucked his dick. Can you imagine how
that must feel?"

Each of them doubtless thought about it. Pete grabbed himself
surreptitiously, Gary noticed, and Michael shifted a bit, perhaps to hide
what was going on between his legs. "I think Michael here will need to do
it the other way around for it to work," Gary said brightly. When they both
looked at him with some confusion, he continued, "whoever goes down on that
monster will definitely need to be the one using the drugs!" They all
laughed.

"Shut up!" Michael said. "A big dick is supposed to be a good thing,
right?"

"It is, and it isn't," replied Gary. "It sure as hell is amazing to look
at, but there will always be people who don't want it inside them."

"Everybody, so far," Michael grumbled.

"What are you, fifteen years old?" Gary asked.

"Fourteen," he replied. "Pete's fifteen."

"Well you don't have a lot of experience yet," Gary said.

"You think?" came Michael's retort. "I probably never will."

"What I mean," Gary said, "is that it's probably easy to fix. If you're
striking out, it's because you're asking the wrong people, the way you ask
isn't working, or you just have bad timing."

Pete laughed. "Yeah, bad timing is why everyone knows he has a big dick."

"Shut up!" Michael said to him.

Gary handed Pete the nitrous bottle, and then turned back to Michael. While
Pete amused himself, Gary said in a low voice, "If what you really want is
a blowjob, walk down the street and ask every single person if they will
suck your dick. You'll get head before you hit a hundred people saying no."

"What if it's a guy?" Michael asked.

Gary resisted the temptation to wink, and instead whispered
conspiratorially, "Even better. Guys usually give better head."

---------------------------------------------------------------

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- Adult-youth

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- Birthday boy http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/birthday-boy