Date: Sun, 12 Oct 2008 23:55:02 -0500
From: Manny Oaks <mannyoaks@gmail.com>
Subject: Our Secret - 4

Usual Rules Apply.  Comments appreciated.


Our Secret (Part 4)


I walk through the clouded glass door of the bookstore with a mixture
of innocence and confidence on my face.   It's almost 2am, and sofar
there are twelve cars in the parking lot.  I subtract one for the guy
who works there, which leaves eleven in actuality, but details have
their way of going in and out of being important.

I haven't been here in probably two years.  Sometimes I figure it's
because life has gotten in the way, other times I guess it's because I
feel like I oughta 'know better' by now.  Still, here I am, game-face
on.  For a split second I feel like I'm fifteen or sixteen again and
it scares me a little.

Through the double doors, into the arcade.  There are ten booths
total, large boards of plywood fashioned into little chambers, five on
each side.  Each booth has a door with a slide lock, and the last
booths on either side have a short wall between it and the adjacent
booth, which stop just below waist level.

The room is very wide.  Twenty five or thirty people could stand in
the space between the booths, and a bright blacklight glows from the
drop-ceiling, a bare bulb hanging quietly down.

I size up the room, slowly crossing to what I think of as "my spot."
I settle into my best James Dean impression, casually glancing around
the room at the faces.

Directly across from me, there's a short italian guy smoking a
cigarettte.  He wears a leather jacket and stands silently with his
hands clasped over one another.  Whenever our eyes meet, he
immediately looks away.  I do the same, wondering if maybe I've seen
him somewhere else.

To his right is a younger guy; in fact, most of the italian man's
attention is aimed at him.  To look at him, I can't help but feel old,
even at 31.  This guy... he looks like a fucking kid!  He must be 18
-- certainly someone so young-looking would be carded in a place like
this -- but his face still has some of that underdeveloped, youthful
glowing.

He was looking at me when I came in, and every time our eyes meet, I
find myself captivated.  He's got a mop of dirty blonde hair and
stands about 5'8".  He hasn't shaved in probably three or four days
and sports a grizzly looking, patchy red beard.  He wears a gray
hooded sweatshirt with a pair of long, yellow atheletic shorts, which
only further the teenage fantasy brewing in my mind.  Bright blue eyes
peek out beneath the hair in his face, and they frequently look in my
direction as he stands awkwardly between booths.

I keep trying not to look.  He looks so young, and it seems like it'd
feel wrong.  But at the same time,  I've never been with anyone that
was more than five or six years younger than me.  The idea of all that
innocence reaching orgasm because of me gets me so hard I can feel the
teeth of my zipper against my cock.

It's then I realize, as I take another casual glance in the boy's
direction, that his shorts are clearly tented out in front of him, his
seemingly thick cock curving skyward beneath the silken fabric.   I
feel my knees weaken and my cock grow even harder, the friction from
the fabric of my underwear driving me nuts with each breath.
Thankfully, I've got a blazer on, so nobody can see the outline of my
throbbing cock or the tiny wet spot on my jeans.

I casually walk across the room and enter the booth on the end, the
one with the half-wall.  I take out a couple of dollars and feed them
into the video booth, which flickers and comes to life before me.  I
idly cycle through the channels, all the while listening behind me
until I finally hear the door in the booth beside me creak open, then
closed.   I look over at the yellow shorts in the booth beside me,
smooth white legs spilling out, and before I know it, I've got my cock
in my hand.  I gently stroke it, turning myself slightly to face the
boy.  He continues to stay still, but his erection doesn't lie, still
bobbing beneath those shorts.

The boy fidgets about with his sweatshirt pockets, quickly producing a
couple of neatly folded single dollars. He reaches and gently takes
the the bills in hand, smoothing them out before feeding them, one by
one, into the video booth.   It reminds me of myself at that age;
slipping quietly into this dirty sex arena with all sorts of teenage
thoughts pulsing through my mind.  Five or six dollars already preset
outside of my actual wallet.  This time the thought of my age forces a
small glob of precum from the head of my cock.  It balloons out of me
before dripping gracefully to the floor, seeming to stretch it's way
down.  When I look up, I see my little friend's got his cloth-covered
erection in his hand, sliding the fabric up and down the shaft.

I turn to face him completely now, slowly advancing towards him.   At
last, he hooks his thumbs into his waistband and lets the shorts fall
to the floor.  My dick slaps against my stomach at the sight of those
bare smooth legs, that ivory skin stretched gently across the frame of
his hips.  A small, young patch of pubic hair sprouts above a thick
dick with a sharp upward curve.   His erection is smooth, yet rigid;
that same ivory skin below his circumcision line, the pink skin of his
torpedo head drawn taught.  It glistens with precum and leaves my
mouth watering.  He turns to face me, angling to get his cock beneath
the partition.  I take the velvet tool in both hands, slowly spreading
the precum over the head with my thumbs.  I can feel him trembling
through his cock.  When I can't resist, I lean over and run my tongue
over the head of his beautiful baby cock.  I hear him inhale sharply
and it elicits a quiet moan from me as I begin to take this dick into
my mouth.  He reaches under the partition and grabs onto it
underhanded, for leverage to slowly pump his cock in and out of my
mouth.   It's heavy and engorged, probably seven or eight thick inches
in length.

He begins to moan and whimper on the other side, soundless breaths
pulling in and drawing out of him with each pass of his cock into my
tightened mouth.  "Ooooh yessssss....." I hear him hissing.   I pull
off his cock and grab him by the hand.  He gets the hint and steps
under the partition onto my side.

I'm standing face to face with him.  This man, this boy.  A work of
art, frozen in it's youth.   He looks into my eyes with something I
won't realize is fear until tomorrow or the next day.  I can SEE him
trembling.  "Why don't you take off your shirt?" I offer.    It
reminds me of something, that phrase.  Something about the way I said
it, I think.

The boy grasps the shirt at the base and lifts it over his head,
exposing his tight, fragile torso.  I can make out most of his ribs
amongst the small muscles formed across his body.   He may well have
been on this earth for eighteen years, but it almost seems his body
has two years' worth of catching up to do.  He still has the shirt
over his head, and is now pulling his arms out of it, but I take one
look at that beautiful young boy standing completely naked before me
and finally give in.  I rush into him, pressing him up against the
video screen as our lips lock in a passionate, fiery frenzy.  His cock
is right beside mine, pressed between our bodies.  I grind into him
and begin to lick and kiss his neck, running my hands over his smooth,
trembling porcelain chest.  His eyes are fearful, and I can tell it's
because he's afraid of what I might try to do, but behind that I can
see he's drawn to me, to this place, for that very reason.

When I run my lips gently over the edge of his ear, he freezes, the
sharp inhale of oxygen again.

Then I reach between us and stroke his cock, now covered in ribbons of
precum and he moans aloud.  He realizes this immediately and tenses
up, but I touch my hand to his cheek and reassure him.  "It's okay," i
say finally.  "Nothing unusual going on in here, you know."  He laughs
nervously and hesitates to keep looking me in the eye.

"I've never been in here, before," he quietly admits.  A shudder of
pleasure passes through his body;  I'm still stroking his dick.

"It's okay," I say.  "You're doing great!" I say with a laugh.  That
gets him smiling a little.  It kind of makes me feel like scum, but
I'm way past the point of stopping now.   I stroke his face gently
with both hands, and move them slowly to his shoulders.   Before I
even realizing I'm gently pressing down, and the boy quickly kneels
and takes my cock into his mouth.

I throw my head back, my jaw slacken.  This may be his first time in a
bookstore, but there's no way my cock is the first he's sucked.  He
alternates between sucking slowly and quickly, sucking in his cheeks,
and flicking his tongue against my frenum.

Suddenly, the boy turns into a machine, quickly slipping up and down
my cock with vigor, his hands clasped into my ass for dear life.  He's
fucking his face on my cock, and it's driving me fucking nuts!  I can
feel my cock grow harder with each beat of my pulse.  I let him
continue for a few seconds, my hands roaming down his back, kneading
his skin as he overloads my senses.  His right ring finger inches
slowly towards my asshole when I feel the urge beginning to take over
me; my dick is growing harder and I can sense my orgasm is nearing.

I quickly pull out of the boys mouth, standing him up by his shoulders
and shoving my tongue into his mouth.  My cock is twitching and
throbbing between us, and i'm involuntarily humping towards him.  The
video machine clicks off, and we're left alone in the dark for a
moment, caught up in the fervor of lust.  The boy turns to the screen,
reaching into his pocket once again.  I come up behind him, arms
stroking and caressing his chest, and bury my face in his damp, sweaty
hair.  I open my eyes in time to see he's fed a ten dollar bill into
the video machine.

"That was a ten!" I whispered.

"I know," he says.  He begins to grind his ass back against my cock,
and I realize his intentions. I ask him if he's ever been fucked
before.  "Yeah," he moans.  My cock is still slick from the blowjob
he'd given me, and I can feel his fingers, wet with saliva, as he rubs
them in and around his hole.

I wrap my arms around his torso, my hands on his chest, and slowly
begin to work my way into the trembling boy's hole.  "Oh!" he whispers
when the head pops through, and he begins to tremble in earnest.  I
kiss his neck, assuring him that he's doing great.  As I slowly slide
in, he looks back at me frequently, as if almost for reassurance that
I won't hurt him.   He lets out a long, "Ooooooh," when my dick
bottoms out in his hole, and I can feel him squeezing and releasing on
my cock.  He slowly begins to rock forward and back, subtly sending me
into a frenzy with pleasure.  I gently bite his neck, moaning all the
while as the boy echoes my pleasure.  He's slowly fucking back and
forth on my dick, gradually picking up the pace.  I look down at that
smooth, flawless little ass with my cock sliding in and out.  I lose
myself for a moment and begin to pummel the kid's ass with my raging
cock.  "Oooh!" The boy moans, "Oooh, oooh!"  I come to my senses and
freeze with my cock balls deep. "Oooh, ooooh," he moans again,
panting,  "Oooh, ooooh yeah... yeah!.. don't stop!  Why'd you stop!?"

I laugh and begin to fuck the kid in earnest now, one hand wrapped
across his chest, and the other stroking his cock.  The boy moans with
each of my thrusts, and when he's not lost in his own ecstasy, he
eagerly meets each upstroke. "Oh yes, yes, yes sir!" he pants.

It's when he says 'sir' that I realize I'm going to lose it. "Ugh!" I
moan, my thrusts becoming staggered and aimless. "I'm gonna cum, kid!"
I whisper.  He moans and throws his head back on my shoulder.  He's
stroking his cock with his right hand, and reaching back to pull my
ass firmly against him with his left.

I begin to massage his pectoral muscles as my orgasm begins, "Oooooh
FUCK, Oh fuck, kid, FUCK!" I shout as my cock begins to throb, firing
my hot cum into his ass.

"Aaah, aaah!" the kid begins to moan suddenly, and louder than the
video still playing in the background.   I"m slowly working my cock
back and forth in his hole, and I can feel his anus contracting on my
cock as his body gets ready for his orgrasm..

"OOH YEAAAH, I'm... I'm CUMMING!"  he shouts.   Both of his hands
shoot back, grabbing my hips and pulling me forward, my slowly
softening cock jamming further into his ass.  The boy throws his head
back, the dirty blonde locks dripping and curled with sweat.  I watch
as his cock begins to fire thick globs at the video screen with no
hands touching it.

"OOOOH YEAH," he gives a breathy moan  His back is stiffly arched, his
head resting in the crook of my neck.  I can feel his muscles contract
and release with each pulse of his orgasm.  I look up and see five
dripping shots of thick, hot cum dripping down the video screen.  He
collapses back against me as the throes subside, my arm still hooked
across his chest.  His heart is beating rapidly inside and his hands
are still gripping my ass when he opens his eyes.  "Oh, man!" he
whispers, still breathing heavily, and gives a small laugh.  He leans
forward against the cum-stained video screen and I pull my
ever-softening cock out of his ass.  It glistens with the wet, sticky
cum I left inside.

The boy produces a couple of paper towels from the pockets of his
hoodie, one of which he hands to me while cleaning himself with the
other.    I watch him as he dresses.  He's returned to being the
nervous, shy kid I saw standing between booths earlier.   He glances
up at me briefly as he pulls up his boxers, then the athletic shorts.
He tries to show me a kind face, but all sorts of fear and
apprehension dance behind his eyes;  it's as if he's afraid of me.

"Thanks," he says quietly, and for a brief second it almost seems as
if it's a genuine regard, and not just some courtesy.  He turns to
exit, but I place a hand on his shoulder.

"Wait a sec," I say.  "Are you... Well, are you okay?"

"Huh?" he utters.  "Oh.. oh yeah, I'm fine, I just really gotta go."
He looks down at the floor.  His eyes flick up at me so quickly it's a
wonder he even tries.

"Oh, okay," I say.  "Well I guess I'll see you around."

"Yeah, maybe. Thank you, sir," he mumbles.  Then he turns and exits
the booth.  Before the door closes, I can see the short italian man
glaring at me from across the wall, his erection flanked by dampened
dark blue khakis.

I smile at him on my way out of the booths.  He merely continues to
glare at me, but there's something familiar in that glare.  It reminds
of Mr. Keane, my high school art teacher, but I can't pinpoint why, as
they look nothing alike, really.



It doesn't really dawn on me until I'm in the car, on the way home;
Not just our secret, Mr. Keane's and mine, but a few others....



(stay tuned!!)