Date: Fri, 3 Apr 2015 00:48:15 +0200
From: Zachary Blake <z.blake@mail.com>
Subject: Memphis Boy, Chapter 2 (Revised)

MEMPHIS BOY
CHAPTER 2
By Zachyboy
M/b, fingering, rimming, oral

The following story is a work of fiction. It involves sexual situations
between an adult man and an underage boy. If this type of material is
illegal where you live or you find it offensive, please leave.

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Please give something back today.

And now, on with the show.

# # # # # # # # # #

CHAPTER 2. "A LOAD ON THE ROAD"

# # # # # # # # # #

Dear Jess,

Sorry it's been a few days since I sent my last email. My Memphis boy has
been keeping me busy. Holy shit, Jess, has he been keeping me busy. Busy
might even be an understatement as I try to figure this sexy little boy
out. What does he want exactly? What makes him tick? He's 12, he's
beautiful, he's kinky as hell, but he's still just a kid, and still just a
sweet mystery. Well, parts of him anyway. Other parts, I'm already very,
very familiar with.

Where did I leave off last time? Oh yeah, the bathroom stall in the mall,
the first time I met him.

After I ate him and jizzed in his mouth. after he stuck a finger up my ass
and jacked off in mine, well geez, Jess, what was left to do but by the
poor kid lunch, right? It was funny, actually. If you remember from my last
note, he actually asked if he could buy ME lunch. I laughed a little
because it took me by surprise, but I was pleased, Jess, because it meant
the kid wasn't freaked out by what I did to him in the bathroom stall. It
meant he wanted to spend some more time with me. And in my mind anyway,
maybe do more.

So we headed for McDonald's in the food court and we ordered at the
counter. (And yes, I paid. You're never gonna let me live that down are
you, the time you were 13 and I forgot my wallet at home and you had to buy
me lunch at Burger King). But yeah, smart ass, this time I paid, which
seemed to pleasantly surprise him. He looked happy when I paid. Proud and
shy. He blushed a little.

We took our tray and sat off to the side of a not-too-busy food court where
he ate slowly and I just watched him, so in love with the movements and the
eroticism of his tiny gestures, it was all I could do to occasionally
remember to take a bite of my own sandwich or a sip of my coke.

There's an author on this story site I read, Jess, and I really need to
send you some of his links, and he did this story once where a lippy little
street kid picks up a guy at a theater after a show, and the guy takes him
to McDonald's and just sits there staring at him, watching him eat, lost
and awed and cock-knocking horny over how fucking hot the kid is without
even knowing it.

And fuck, Jess, I just have to cut and paste and paraphrase him a little,
because this is exactly what it felt like that first day in the food court,
watching my little Memphis boy eat.

I have to tell you, it was a cock-rocking adventure just to watch this kid
eat french fries. He didn't take them out of the box, three, four, five at
a time like other kids, cramming them hand-to-mouth like an
addiction. Nope. This kid ate them calmly, individually, purposefully, one
at a time, no rush, dipping them in ketchup, bringing them to his beautiful
lips, his tiny tongue, his perfect teeth, sucking just a little,
tantalizing me, before he bit.

The little divot between his nose and upper lip – the philtrum, it's
called (his was so sexy, I had to look up the word just so I knew what to
call it) – was perfect, pronounced and erotic. Watching him eat, I
wanted to kiss that little groove, that little alley between his nose and
lips. Lick it. Taste it. I could almost imagine one small drop of my cum
resting on it perfectly. Nestled into that perfect little indentation.

"What?" he asked suddenly, mid-bite.

"What do you mean, what?" I replied.

"You're staring at my mouth. Do I have ketchup or something?"

He was totally innocent for a split second, even though I'd just been
eating his ass and cumming in his mouth ten minutes before.

"No. You're good," I told him. "You just have a pretty mouth. Sorry."

He giggled. He blushed. He went back to his meal.

Every bite of his burger was erotic, unintentional performance art. I just
came, Jess. I just came a ton, but I still I got hard again just watching
him eat his hamburger. I'm not kidding, rock hard. His eyes rarely left
mine. Searching me out. Looking ahead for what might come next. I really
didn't know. But I could tell he was feeling great pride in pleasure in
making me watch him eat this way, so he very quietly and purposefully
continued.

When he drank his soda, head bent down over the cup, red, wet lips around
the tip of the straw, eyes looking up at me piercing and pretty, it was
over right there, Jess. This kid was going to get anything he wanted from
me. Food, money, a year in my bed, anything.

A Big Mac's messy, Jess, especially for a little mouth, but he didn't have
any problems at all. Just took his time and slowly bit, slowly chewed. The
few times he did get special sauce on his upper lip, he just slowly and
carefully wiped it off with a napkin. And oh yeah. Don't think the "special
sauce" reference was lost on me for a minute. Not for a fucking blink.

His fingers were slender and narrow. Beautiful long boy fingers, at that
borderline age where they've lost the pudgy baby-fat of childhood, but they
haven't yet reached the thickeness of a man's yet. Long, lean boy fingers,
Jess, narrow and slim and perfect.

I imagined them wrapped around my dick, or running through my sweaty hair
after I fucked him, or wet with spit and exploration, poking greedily into
his upturned ass, the way I'd first found him in the handicapped bathroom
stall. When he licked off his forefinger as he ate, keeping it clean, all I
could think was, "That forefinger has just been up your asshole, Davey, and
mother of everything holy, I want to lick it off too."

"I want to sit right here in a public food court and suck your sticky
little ass-finger for all the world to see."

# # # # # # # # # #

But what I really said was this:

"So, do you come here often?"

And even Davey laughed, because even to a 12-year-old, it's such a hokey
line. The sound of his laughter was stardust.

"Sometimes," he smiled, taking another sip of his Coke. He looked up at me
with innocent eyes but such a sweet, sexy smile, I couldn't tell if he was
flirting with me or not.

Oh, those lips, Jess. He didn't know what he was doing to me just by
slightly parting those lips and sucking on a straw. I really did fear if I
watched him do that too long, I might faint. I mean really and truly
faint. And you know I'm serious when I say that, Jess, because that comes
from a guy who could fuck two boys before breakfast and still leave room
for sausage.

"So, do you always, you know, when you come here, uh...?" I was dancing
around the inevitable.

"Go in the bathroom like that?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah," I said. "And, uh, do the finger thing?"

"Yep," he said. "Most times."

"And you do that because...?" I was fishing. Trying to make sense of it.

"Cause I like things up my butt, I guess."

"You guess?"

"Okay," he blushed. "I'm pretty sure. I don't know why I like it so much,
but I do."

"What else do you put up your butt?" I asked sincerely. It wasn't a leering
question. I was honestly curious.

"I don't know," he blushed. "That's kind of personal. I just met you."

Now it was my turn to look incredulous.

"Kid, I just had my tongue up your ass and my cock in your mouth. I think
we're past the first date jitters."

He giggled.

"I guess you'll just to hang around me more and find out," he said, smiling
at me. And that time he WAS flirting, Jess. That time he was definitely
flirting.

# # # # # # # # # #

"My thing gets hard when I put stuff in my butt," he admitted. "And I jack
it up and down and I get my juice."

"First of all, kid," I explained to him patiently. "I think if you've
reached to stage where you're getting your hole licked in a men's room, you
might want to use the right words."

He nodded. Even sat up straighter, like class was in session.

"Say cock," I told him. He giggled. I rolled my eyes.

"It's your cock, Davey, not your thing. Say cock."

"Cock," he blushed.

"Say cum," I told him. "Not juice. Say cum."

"Cum."

"Do you like the taste of cum, Davey?"

He blushed even deeper.

"Sorta."

"Do you eat your own cum?"

"Sorta."

"Do you want to eat some more of my cum?"

"Sorta."

I nodded toward the men's room. He was up like a shot.

"Whoa," I laughed. "You can finish your sandwich first."

"Oh," he said, sitting back down. "Yeah, I guess so."

He picked it up and continued his precision munching.

"So, how long have you been gay, kid?"

He stopped in mid-bite. Looked at me with what I can only describe as sheer
horror, Jess. Wide-eyed horror that I'd even suggest such a thing.

"Oh, no," he said seriously. He looked me dead in the eyes to drive the
point home. "I'm not THAT. I'm not the G-Word."

"The G-Word?" I repeated, at a bit of a loss.

"You know. Guh—guh---"

"Wow, you really do have a limited vocabulary, don't you kid? You can't
even say gay?"

"Well, no," he said. "I can say it, I just can't BE it."

"Okay," I said patiently. "You're just kinda experimenting in there then,"
I said, nodding again toward the men's room.

"Right," he nodded. "But I'm not gay. Nuh-uh. No way. My dad would kill
me."

"I don't know," I shrugged and winked as I reached for one of his
fries. "Some dads don't mind a gay kid. Some even find them, you know,
useful."

"Ewww," he said, apparently imagining his dad's tongue up his butt. "No
thanks. Not my dad."

"Okay," I said. "But lots of kids are gay, Davey. There's nothing wrong
with it."

"Nope," he said firmly. "I like the taste of juice. But I'm not gay. I'm in
sports. I'm in track. And Little League. And I play football!"

"I got news for you, kiddo. Lots of football players drink juice too. And
I'm not talking about Capri Sun."

"Well, I'm not like that," he insisted.

"Great." I shrugged. "No offense intended."

"It's okay," he said patiently. "I just get excited sometimes. Wanna go in
the bathroom and do more stuff?"

So my non-gay Memphis boy and I went back into the bathroom of the Kirby
Woods Mall for Round Two of him not being gay.

# # # # # # # # # #

But fuck me if it wasn't packed in there, Jess. Two guys at the urinal, and
two more giving birth to what I suspected were twin elephant colons by
smell of the fog in the air. Davey turned up his nose and my cock wilted on
the spot. I'm all for smelling boy ass, Jess. I have, and I love it. But
the thick, rank stench of grown-up man poop is a different club entirely,
and it's one I'm not signed-up for.

"Hey," I suggested. "Why don't we go out to my van and just go
somewhere. Drive to a park, or drive over to my place."

"No," he said simply. "I can't do that. You might Stranger Danger me with
your cock up my butt."

I couldn't argue with him there, Jess, because truth is I might have. I
know I sure wanted to.

"Okay," I said patiently. "Do you know of anywhere else? Anywhere safe for
you?"

"We could go to a movie," he suggested meekly. "There's the theater next
door."

"Sure," I said, rubbing his head, which he seemed to like. "A movie sounds
fine. I'll buy." He smiled.

"Theaters are good," he pronounced. "I do lots of stuff in movie
theaters. They're dark and nobody pays attention to you."

I raised an eyebrow.

"You wouldn't happen to have a blanket in your van, would you?" he
asked. "You know. For when you Stranger Danger kids and stuff?"

I shrugged sheepishly. He had me dead to rights.

"Um, yeah."

"Excellent," he said. "Bring it in. I can really have some fun if there's a
blanket."

Oh my stars and garters, Jess. I was beginning to think I was out of my
league.

# # # # # # # # # #

We walked to my van, and he actually did stay a few steps back as we neared
it. I guess in theory I could have shoved him in and made a run for it, but
you know me, Jess. That's not my style. I'm sure that's what he was
half-imagining in his head, though. It was flattering actually to have him
imagine me that nimble. Shit, Jess, I'm 45-years-old. Abduct a kid and
subdue him in a moving van and still keep my eyes on the road while he's
wrestling around in there? Holy crap, I'm lucky I can get up IN that van
without making the "oof" noise."

But when I grabbed the little blanket from the back, his eyes lit up. He
moved forward and took it from me. Rolled it up like a bedroll and tucked
it under his arm. He stood there looking at me. I looked back at him. Damn
it, he was pretty.

"I'm really not scared of you," he said confidently, taking a step closer
to me.

"Good," I said. "Because I'm really not scary."

He nodded down to the crotch of my pants.

"But your cock is getting hard," he pointed out. "I think you kinda wanna
Stranger Danger my butt."

I nodded, no shit.

"Well, I guess it's just gonna have to stay hard for a while," he shrugged
with a flirty smile.

"Yeah, well, I think that's going to be a standard problem when I'm around
you, Davey."

He giggled. Looked around. Reached out and touched it through my pants. I
think I saw fireflies.

"I like your cock," he giggled again. "And see? I'm not a baby. I can say
it. Cock, cock, cock."

And each time he said the word, it felt like he was reaching out and
licking mine. It sent me into stacatto flips.

"Cock, cock, cock" from his pretty red lips. Like three jolts of
electricity running straight up my spine.

He moved his hand away and marched confidently toward the movie theater
across the parking lot. Watching his beautiful skinny ass, I followed.

# # # # # # # # # #

Bucket of buttered popcorn in his lap, giant two-thousand ounce coke to the
left of him, and package of Twizzlers in my lap – "Make sure you get the
Twizzlers," he'd insisted. "Make SURE you get the Twizzlers," like it was
the most important thing in the universe, we settled in to watch the movie.

The movie was forgettable, Jess. I can't even remember what we saw that
day. My attention was all on him.

Holy monkey in a tree, Jess. You think this kid is a horny little hottie in
a bathroom stall, you should see what he does in a fucking Cineplex.

The lights hadn't been down for five minutes before he was saying, "here,"
and handing me the popcorn, handing me the soda, and whispering, "Now. Give
me the blanket." And I did. And he covered his lap with it, and instantly
started fiddling with his pants.

The theater was dark and the blanket was covering his whole lower half, so
I couldn't exactly see what he was doing, but I figured it out fast
enough. He was stripping again, Jess. Buck naked from the waist down. From
under the blanket, out came his pants, completely off. He took a moment to
neatly fold them and handed them to me quietly.

"Put them on the floor," he whispered. "So nobody sees them." Truth be
told, it was a pretty quiet movie showing. I'd purposely picked a dull
movie, not a kid flick or an action-adventure film. I wanted privacy, and I
picked wisely. There were a few other couples sitting rows and rows ahead
of us, but we were relatively private, way toward the back, in our own
little world. As long as we kept it quiet, I don't think anybody would even
turn around to look at us.

He fiddled some more under the blanket and two seconds later, off came his
underwear.

"Fold them," he whispered, handing them over.

And honestly, Jess, I intended to do that, just follow his instructions,
but before I knew what I was doing, because truly my nose has a mind of its
own, I had my face buried so far in the crotch of those tighty whities,
smelling the life out of them, it made me moan and it made him giggle.

"You're nasty," he said. "You like smelling boys butts, don't you?"

"What do you think?" I mumbled, and believe me, I didn't stop smelling. "Oh
fuck, kid. Yours smells good."

"Gross," he giggled. "I can't believe you DO that."

"...said the boy who's sitting in a movie theater naked."

"Shhh," he said, sucking on his finger and getting it wet. "Never talk
during a movie."

# # # # # # # # # #

I wish I could say we watched the movie, Jess. I wish I could say we ate
the popcorn. But neither of those were high on the agenda. Because you know
what he did don't you? Of course you do. We all do.

He stuck his finger up his ass again, Jess. Stuck it right straight up his
ass under a little thin blanket in the Kirby Woods Cineplex, three rows
from the back, while forgettable actors did their movie star thing on the
big screen.

And he put it in himself, then he pulled it out, then he wet his finger
again, then he put it in again. Then he settled into a rhythm, finger
fucking himself. And his eyes never left the screen. I just sat there
watching him.

"Can I lift the blanket?" I begged.

"Just a little," he whispered, looking around, paranoid. "Do it fast."

I lifted the blanket. His cock was hard. His slender little finger was
buried to the hilt in his sweet young boyhole. He took it out.

"Wanna smell me?" he asked.

I think I probably growled. I grabbed him by the wrist. I held his finger
up to my nose. I smelled it, all rich and earthy and boy. I put it in my
mouth. I licked it. I leaned over. I grabbed him by the back of the
neck. Pulled him to me. Wrapped my mouth over his. Kissed him. He
moaned. Kissed him with my tongue. Stuck my tongue in his mouth and felt
his little tongue poking back. He tasted like popcorn and eagerness and
soda. I kissed him with my tongue, Jess. Our cocks were hard. I didn't care
who saw me.

"Suck me," I grunted quietly in his ear. "Get on your knees and suck my
cock."

"No way," he said, alarmed. "Somebody will see."

"Oh God, kid," I moaned. "I gotta get my cock sucked."

"Later," he promised. "Just watch the movie."

# # # # # # # # # #

Jess, I can't even describe how long an hour and forty minutes lasts when
you've got a naked kid by your side, covered in a blanket and performing
digital anal stimulation on himself that you can hear, see and smell. He
moaned and whimpered quietly as he fingered himself, Jess. God Almighty,
I'm surprised my cock didn't just explode on the spot.

There comes a point of hardness where honestly, you'd think the blood
vessels would just burst from prolonged arousal. It was like the
side-effects on the Viagra commercial. "If your erection lasts for more
than three days, please see your doctor."

"See your doctor?" a friend of mine once said to me. "Shit, if my erection
lasted more than three days, I wouldn't see my doctor. I'd drive into the
city!"

Well, he certainly had mine hard enough to last for three days, Jess, just
from the fingering and the kissing and occasionally reaching over to rub
mine through my pants. You've heard of edging, Jess. Well, this was edging
times 100.

"You're all wet," he said as he rubbed against the stain. "Did you pee?"

"That's pre-cum, kid," I explained to him patiently. "It's what comes out
of a guy's cock before he gets to cum. It means he's turned on."

"I turn you on?" he asked, surprised and wide-eyed, like the fact that he
was naked and finger-fucking himself in the seat next to me might be, I
don't know, mundane?

"Fuck yes, you turn me on, Davey. If I don't cum soon, I think I'm going to
die."

"Okay," he whispered. "You can drive me home, okay? And we can stop and you
can cum. I'll even drink it for you."

"Oh God," I moaned.

"Just don't Stranger Danger me in my butt yet," he said in all
sincerity. "No cock in my butt. You have to promise. I'm still scared of
that part."

"Okay," I promised him. "Whatever you're ready for."

"Say I swear."

"I swear."

"Okay. Thank you."

Then he paused a second, looked me in the eye, crooked his finger at me and
said, "Come here, I want to whisper something really close in your ear."

I leaned in. His breath was hot and sweet and made me crazy.

"I'm gonna put a Twizzler in my butt and pull it out make you eat it," he
whispered. And while he whispered it, he rubbed my cock some more.

"Oh God," I moaned. "Oh fuck. Oh God."

And that's exactly what he did. Pulled the blanket aside and let me
watch. He let me watch him deep throat a Twizzler to get it wet, Jess. And
then he snaked it up his tiny little asshole. And he pulled it back out
clean and shiny. And then he sucked his finger and fucked his own ass again
while I slowly ate it. Ate that Twizzler tasting like sugar and cherry and
Davey's sweet boyhole right there at the movie theater.

One, two, three, four, five whole Twizzlers, Jess. Each one better than the
next one. I ate five Twizzlers from his tight shiny boyass, Jess. And if
the movie hadn't ended, we would have finished the whole fucking bag.

# # # # # # # # # #

My pants were nearly soaked by the time we finished the movie. It was
getting darker now as we loaded his bike into the back of my van and he
told me where he lived, but told me to go somewhere else first. Pull off
the road somewhere quiet "so we could do some more cock stuff," he said,
"some more cock and butt stuff, but just not the fuck part." He giggled
when he said "fuck." I could tell it wasn't a word he was used to saying
out loud.

I watched him in the passenger seat. He was rubbing his cock now too. I had
a boner. He had a boner. We were both desperately looking for a secluded
pull off, because we both knew how this van ride was ending. We were about
to take a right onto Ejaculation Avenue.

"Do boys give you boners?" he asked me as I drove.

"Boys always give me boners," I answered honestly. "100% of the time."

"I got a boner from a boy once," he said.

"Just once?"

"Well," he blushed. "I guess a few times."

Yeah right, I thought. If a "few" meant "daily."

"So, what boy gave you a boner most recently," I asked him, trying to
narrow it down.

"Football practice," he shrugged. "Corey Cooper touched my taint."

I laughed. I couldn't help myself. It sounded like a tongue-twister.

"What?" he said defensively. "It wasn't supposed to be funny."

"I'm sorry," I laughed. "It's a double alliteration."

"A double what?"

"A double alliteration. Corey Cooper. Touched your taint."

"You're a double pervert."

I couldn't argue with that one, Jess, literary or otherwise.

"Anyway," he grumbled. "It's the part between your nuts and your A-hole."

"I know what a taint is, kid. I've been touching taints since before you
were born. But he touched yours at football practice? How does that work?"

"I was snapping him the ball," he answered. "And he reached up like he
always does. Right between my legs. Right up by my cup. Only this time he
touched my taint. And he did it on purpose."

"Whew," I sighed. The thought of little Davey suited-up in football gear,
bending over with his ass in my face made me want to go out for seventh
grade quarterback, that's for sure. If only there were time machines,
Jess. Fuck me standing.

"And you could feel it? Him touching your taint? Through all the gear and
the padding?"

"Of course," he said. "Your taint's not covered. You leave it out."

"Huh." I admitted. "I never knew that."

"Yep. Tailbone pad comes to the top of your butt. And the cup holds your
junk. But no pads on your taint. A guy can touch it all he wants."

"And Corey Cooper..."

"Touched my taint."

"Fuck," I said, still suppressing the urge to laught at him again.

"And it gave me a big boner," he said.

"I can imagine."

"And by the way, if you ever get a big boner in a football cup, it hurts."

"I believe you."

"So if we pull over and you suck me, I kinda want to pretend you're Corey Cooper at first, okay?"

"Fine by me."

"But I'm still not gay. I'm still not the G-Word."

"It's your party, kid. I'll dance however you want me to."

# # # # # # # # # #

We pulled over on a dark gravel road leading into an empty ballpark and
drove to the far end of the baseball diamond. There was nobody around for
miles. I put the car in park, turned off the lights and engine and motioned
him to the back seat, which was a long, one-seater bench. He took his pants
off immediately. Folded them neatly. Took off his undies. Folded them
too. Sat back. Looked me right in the eye.

"Okay," he announced. "You can cock suck me now, you fucking cock sucking
fucker."

My eyebrow shot up.

"Well, that was unexpected," I told him.

"Think I can't say "cum," huh?"

I smiled.

"Cum, cum, cum," he said proudly. "Cock sucking cock fucker."

"Slow down, bad boy. I'm convinced."

He giggled. And jutted his dick up at my face.

And I dove down on that little steel-hard cocklet like it was the last hot
dog in Disneyland.

Jess, there is something inexplicably beautiful about the taste of a
12-year-old's cock. I've sucked them before. You've sucked them before. You
know what I'm talking about.

It's that 4-inch flavor that goes beyond verbal description. A mixture of
scents and sweat and pheromones and spice and pee and soap and something
you just can't put your finger on. Something that eludes you. A salty,
coppery, fleshy something. You can suck your thumb and it's not even
close. You can suck a man cock and it's nowhere near it. It's elusive,
Jess, the hot new taste of boycock. Elusive and beautiful and I could have
sucked on his forever.

He put his hands on my head, pushed my mouth down deeper. Jutted his hips
up into me. Gave it to me with fervor. I had no clue how many times this
kid had his cock sucked before, but I'm here to tell you Jess, if this was
numero uno, he took to it like a duck takes to water.

Oh yeah. This kid was going to be GOOD at getting his cock sucked by the
time he hit eighth grade next year. He wasn't just docile, lying there all
nervous and fluttery, like some boys, just taking it. Oh, no Jess. He was
grinding back. He was in full participatory fuck-back. He was grabbing and
grinding and pushing and jutting, and I gotta tell you, Jess, he was giving
me a fairly good version of a 12-year-old skull-fuck.

"Scoot your ass up a little," I whispered to him between mouthfuls of
dick. "Scoot up your legs up and I'll lick your taint. Just like Corey Cooper, kiddo."

He giggled. Scooted up. Stopped laughing when my tongue hit his crack. I
ate his balls. I ate his taint. I ate his sweet butthole and it still
tasted like Twizzlers. I slipped a finger in. He was wet and open and ready
for probing. He moaned and said "yessssss" when my finger slid inside
him. He pushed back instantly. Engulfed it. Wanted it deeper. This kid
didn't fuck around with fingers in his ass. I may have been an expert at
the other stuff, Jess, but fingers were this kid's specialty area. He was
infinitely familiar with where to put them and how deep they needed to go.

So, I licked his taint. I sucked his cock. And I finger-fucked him
relentlessly.

"Shove it in harder," he whispered hoarsely. "In my ass harder. Really
hard."

I pushed and dug and I didn't disappoint him. I found his little
button-spot. He went half mad when I pushed on his prostate and sucked his
little fuckstick.

He grabbed my head and he pushed up into me, and he came like a big boy.

"NNNGGGH," he grunted, and he fired out two sweet drops of boy nectar right
into my mouth. Even sweeter than the cherry licorice I still tasted in his
asshole.

My own cock was about ready to burst.

"Your turn, Davey. And it won't take long."

He got down between my legs and started to service me.

And you could tell that he liked it, Jess.

"I'm not gay," he'd told me with such sincerity. "I'm not the G-Word."

Yeah, well, you do what you have to do to wake up in the morning and look
yourself in the mirror, but I can tell you right now, Jess, with my cock
down his throat, if this kid didn't grow up and turn out to be the gayest
dick hound on two wheels, he was going to be the first motherfucking
straight kid to win the Academy Award for cocksucking.

He dove down on my dick. Too fast. He gagged. He pulled up instantly with
tears in his eyes, the gag reflex making him blink wetly in shock. For a
minute he teetered on his knees, surprised at how hard my cock had felt in
his throat. How deep. How shocking. For a minute, he looked so unsure and
unsteady, I was almost worried he was going to throw up. But nope, that
storm passed fast.

He shook his head – literally shook off the shock – and he was back
on me in a second – going just as deep, going just as far – and not a
gag to be heard this time. Like he stared down my cock and he made it his
bitch. "Listen you fucker," I could hear in his head. "You make me gag?
Well, fuck you. I'll hop back on the horse that threw me." He was taking no
prisoners, Jess. He'd just won his first pissing contest with my cock, and
he was sucking on it like nobody's business.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh sweet motherfucker," I whispered.

He moaned around the head of it, way deep in his throat, and his moan was
an electric buzz that zapped through all the way to my balls.

"Oh, baby, oh baby," I was so fucking hot. I was SO ready to cum. Jesus
Fucking Christ, Jess, this kid had me so hot, I was doomed to prematurely
ejaculate in his mouth every fucking time he went down on me. It had only
taken four or five strokes in the men's room at the food court, it was only
going to take thirty seconds here. Fuck it, Jess. I had no pride or staying
power with this kid. I was going to blow a minute after he started.

And I did. Oh fuck me, I did.

I grabbed his head and I pulled it down on my cock, and that time he did
gag again, Jess. He gagged hard but he grabbed my hips and pulled me in
even deeper. Mother of God, even gagging, he wanted me deeper, and when I
saw him do that, it was all over, pardner. It was over right there.

"You fucker," I grunted, and I filled him with my sperm. It shot out in
ropes down his throat, thick and hot and creamy and copious. He didn't miss
a beat. Just kept sucking and swallowing, sucking and swallowing.

"Nnng, nnng," he gurgled as he swallowed. "Nnng, mmmm, nnng, nnng..."

"Oh fuck," I whispered. "Oh fuck, baby boy. You do that so good, baby. You
do that so good."

He swallowed and swallowed and he didn't miss a drop. He looked up at me
proudly as I tapered off. Looked up proudly as he drank my last
drops. Slipped my cock out of his throat. Licked around the head. Licked
around the piss slit. Lapped up the side of my shaft. Got it all. Every
drop.

Stuck his nose into my pubes. Smelled deeply. Made a satisfied sighing
noise. Sucked my tip a little more. Reached up with a little hand and
fondled my balls. Licked the shaft. Kissed the tip.

"That was good," he smiled up at me. "That was really, really good. You
make a lot of juice. You make way more than me."

He climbed up on my lap and he kissed me. He was naked from the waist
down. My cock was pressing on his ass. He felt it. I felt it too. I'd just
cum, but Jesus Jess, his ass was on my cock. Of course it got hard
again. Of course it did.

He felt it harden. Felt me pressing it up toward the wet cherry Twizzler
hole it inevitably needed to go.

"Nuh-uh," he whispered through his cum-sticky kissed. "Not in my butt
hole. Not yet. I'm scared."

"Shhh," I said. "I can go soft. I can make it gentle."

But he was already off me, Jess. Scared him away. Me and my big mouth,
Jess. Me and my big cock.

"I gotta go home," he said. "It's late. I'm in big trouble."

He put his clothes on and I zipped up my pants. I started the van and
headed toward his neighborhood.

"That was great, Davey," I told him, reaching over to rub his sweaty
hair. "You did really, really good, kiddo. I'm proud of you."

"That was a lot of cum," he whispered. "I didn't think I could eat that
much."

He licked his lips. Smiled.

"But I did," he whispered, and his hand went down his pants again. "I ate
it all."

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We drove home quietly. His eyes were closed. He had a smile on his face and
he was clearly trying to finger fuck himself again.

I stopped a block from his house and I took his bike out of the back. He
hopped on immediately and was about to pedal away. Just like that. No
comment, no "see ya."

"Wait a minute, wait a minute, when do I get to see you again?"

"I'm not sure," he said. "I'm gonna get grounded for a while for being so
late."

"Okay," I said, probably sounding a little more desperate than I
intended. "But after that. Where can I meet you next time?"

"In the woods," he said. "In the woods past the mall. I go there
sometimes. To run."

"To run?" I said. "You mean like jogging?"

"Nah," he said. "Just to run. You know. Without my clothes on. Naked."

"Oh fuck." I muttered under my breath. When did it end with this kid? "Oh
sweet mother fuck."

"You say that a lot," he said, hopping on his bike and pedaling away, my
cum bubbles still swimming in his tummy. He tossed his head back over his
shoulder and gave me a dazzling smile. I could see it in my mind, even if I
couldn't really see it in the streetlights.

"See you later," he said. "In the woods, if you can find me."

And if that wasn't a dare, I don't know what was.

And then he was gone, my sweet little Memphis boy, 12 and beautiful and
magnificently dirty. A sheer puzzle I had yet to put together. And I was
already in love with him I realized, watching him pedaling up the street in
the moonlight, leaving me all kinds of happy and all kinds of horny.

When I got back in the van, I noticed he'd done something for me. Left his
undies neatly folded on the driver's side seat. A little souvenir. And you
can bet I enjoyed them as soon as I got back in the driver's seat. Smelled
them and jacked off and shot another gusher right there while I drove. My
cock got hard the second I saw them, and they were in my face for the next
twenty miles.

I'll tell you about the woods the next time I write, Jess, and how I found
him naked, and what we did when I found him there.

Remember the first time you got naked for me, baby? The first time we took
a shower together and you were so embarrassed to be so naked and vulnerable
like that in front of me? You were 11 then, right? 11 that first time?

Let's just say Davey didn't have that problem at all in the woods, Jess. He
was not shy at all about being naked and loving it. "Running" and "naked"
were just the tip of the iceberg of what that hot little fucker did in the
woods that day, I can tell you that much.

But that's a story for the next time, Jess. It's late. I have to work in
the morning and I've babbled on too long already. I better get some sleep.

I love you, Jess. Always have, Always will. You know that don't you?
Because it's true. Always will be.

More next time. I miss you.

I miss you being 11, and perfect, and mine.

Sweet dreams, baby boy. I'll write again soon.

All my love,
Zee

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Zachyboy
z.blake@mail.com

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