Date: Tue, 13 Sep 2005 03:39:27 +0100
From: Joey Tailor <joeytailor@hotmail.com>
Subject: Perfect One
Chapter One - The Arrival
The internet cafe is all hustle
bustle. People come and go all day and
night. Every kind you can imagine and
then some. Late night is the quietest
by far.
Feeding four very large business /
family class hotels, you can usually
find every race color and creed during
any given 24 hour period.
More than 50 terminals scattered in
a semi-private pattern, units as basic
as a win-terms all the way up to cutting
edge technology. Dial up or High-speed,
Lap-tops, PS's and servers. You get what
you pay for here. A dozen or so even
have web cams hooked up for those office
net-meetings. The kind big city
executives prefer.
Ten year old Kamal Zorin and family
arrive at their hotel late in the night.
The well to do family members are on
their semi-annual vacation. Already
1:30 in the morning, local time, the
family finish the mandatory Hotel check-
in process. Kamal and his little sister
watch a perky spirited bellhop loads
their Sampsonite luggage on a shiny gold
cart, trimmed with red carpet. Kamal,
about to protest as the young man starts
pushing the baggage away, stops himself.
It has been a long journey for the sweet
little boy. Two plane rides followed by
a long wait for the hotel shuttle. `Do I
realy care?' He questions the mans
action
The brother and sister follow close
behind their parents. Kamal takes notice
of his 8 year old sisters' summer
dress, torn in the back. Giving off a
smooth chuckle under his breath, the boy
wonders how long it had been like that.
Nonie hears he brother and his annoying
snicker. Her head turns, giving Kamal
her infamous `I know your up to
something' look. The type of look all
sister, large or small come to master.
Passing over the exotic blue
marble floor the tap of shoes echo the
expanse of the large modernistic forye.
All of them in awe of the many
magnificent antique statues and equally
eye catching paintings lining the walls.
The weary group feel their tired legs
ache striding the fast pase of the
Belhop, guiding them to the elevators.
The elevator ride gives ample time
for a quick conversation. Mr. and Dr.
Zorin speak in a Lebanese version of
Arabic. Kamal studies the workmanship of
the control panel. So many buttons, all
with shiny ivory caps and rich ebony
numbers embedded. An inner voice calls
to him, `push them, push them all.'
Smiling to himself the smooth skinned
boy pictures the panel lit like a white
Christmas tree. His dapper smile fills
the small space.
36 floors, `B' and `L' he knows
them, Basement and Lobby. What is this
`E' for the voice becons him to find
out.
"Hey mister, what's the `E' for?"
He asks the bellhop, finger pointing to
the top row of buttons.
His little sister's attention draws
to the panel, she cannot come up with an
answer, nor can she find a reason to
care.
"E, E for Executive floor young
sir." The Bellhop responds in a very
professional tone.
Nonie looks the man up and down,
her nose turning upward. `What a funny
red outfit.' She thinks. The man stands
staring at the buttons as if he were
waiting for one to pop. His round red
hat perched firmly on top of his head.
"No way, I am not." Nonie half
shouts, catching her tone to late. Both
of her parents glare at her for the
sudden unwelcome outburst.
"You will do as your told young
lady, and like it." Mother scolds the
young girl, her patience running thin.
Dr. Zorin and her husband had
chosen to bear children later in life
than most Lebanese families, allowing
them to stabilize their career's first.
Mrs. Zorin is a respected Doctor to the
more affluent families in their capital
city Beirut.
Mr. Zorin gained favor with the
Americans through his import export
company, dealing mainly in spices and
cheaply made shoddy goods. Together they
also own, but do not manage a telephone
call center.
Many may think they are calling a
local bank to get their balance or to
arrange a utility payment. That call
might well be routed international to
one of their more than 300 employees.
"What is it, what did I miss?"
Kamal asks with his I got to know what
is happening voice. Trying so hard to
gain a clue as to what transpired, his
eyes dart from sister to mother.
The elevator eases to a stop. DING,
the silver doors swish open. Fresh air
replaces the stuffy confines of the 6
foot square box.
Waiting for the guests to depart,
the bellhop holds the doors open with a
simple button push. Always the
gentlemen, his job relies on it.
"We have to share a room, for the
next WEEK." Nonie sticks her nose as far
forward as she can manage without losing
balance.
Kamal stops in his tracks, looks up
to his mother. It's a simple child like
reaction. The lite skin boy closes his
eyes, turns his head careful not to show
his back to Mother and carries on down
the hall. He knows from many similar
past experiences there is no use
arguing, not with his mother. Her rules
are as good as commandments, struck in
stone.
His father on the other hand, well
Kamal and his sister know how to get
around him. He would just have to wait
and chose his battle.
Kamal keeps pace with the bellhop,
side by side with the cart full of his
families luggage. His parents eagerly
scanning the Hotel doors looking for
1410 and 1412. The bellhop already
pointed them in the right direction, but
it is still a good walk from the
elevator shaft. The boy absently traces
his thin fingers along the bumpy
wallpaper. He admires the square pattern
on the soft blue carpet undrr his tan
canvas shoes. To him it almost feels
similar to walking on sponge. `Much
softer than the ceramic tiled floors at
home' the soft natured boy thinks to
himself.
The hotel is in the final throws of
winding down for the night. Most of the
staff finished for the night. The hall
lights already dimmed to half
brightness.
Kamals' parents stop outside a
white painted, wide wooden door. "1410,
this is us." Mother speaks in a soft
melodic voice, gently looking to her
husband. Her eyes showing her long day
has taken its final toll.
"I'll take care of all this." Mr.
Zorin speaks in a take charge tone. "You
get yourself freshened up dear."
Organizing things is his specialty.
Bags sorted and orders given, both to
the children and the hired help. He
slides four of the larger suitcases into
1410, More tells rather than asks the
Bellhop to take the rest into the
children's room. Mr. Zorin makes a point
of paying a handsome gratuity to the
Bellhop for his time.
Looking over to his Children he
declares in a stern but loving tone,
"Please, do not be bothering your mother
until she calls for you in the morning."
Father raises his finger to stop
Nonie from her pending rebuttal. "Just
go to sleep, now."
The Bellhop opens suite 1412 and
places their remaining bags inside the
doorway. Nonie runs in, calling dibs on
her choice of bed. With a flash she
darts off to the washroom. This will be
her territory for the week.
Kamal saunters gracefully into the
room taking his place on the unclaimed
bed.
To his great surprise, he has a
great view of the TV set, also sporting
a video game system already hooked-up.
`All right' the happy little boy mouths.
"My names Pete, if you need
anything just let me know." The Bellhop
introduces himself.
Confidant to speak at ease, the
teenage servant knows not to dare speak
openly to a hotel guest. At least he
would not be so flagrant in earshot of
other guests of staff.
Putting one of the bags beside the
boy's bed, Pete lightly taps the boy on
his bottom. His hand resting a second
longer normality would allow.
Kamal suddenly feels very alone.
The child still hold a previous sexual
encounter deep in memory. It was little
over a year ago, just before his 9th
birthday.
The boy was attending a party, to
celebrate `The South Carolina Gas and
Electric Company' and his parents
Telephone Call Center's first
anniversary together.
Kamal roamed the large wooded
grounds in search of some small
adventure. The type all young boys like,
a tall tree to climb or perhaps a
mystery to solve. He so enjoys reading
mystery books and dreaming the fictive
dream.
Instead he came across an officious
looking middle aged American man, with a
strange gleam in his eye. A gleam that
Kamal had not seen before, but sensed
was not the good type. Trying to hide in
the thick bush Kamal stepped back when
he saw the man. In hope of not being
spotted he stood very still.
The American already spotted Kamal.
He had been watching the boy, with his
light mocha brown skin, for some time.
To his great pleasure he saw Kamal veer
away from the crowds and go his own way.
He thought how cute the young boy
looked, dressed in his thin khaki
shorts, polo shirt and sandals. He
admired the boys thick black hair from
afar, dreaming of those red puffy lips
wrapped around his 7 inch cock. He had
to have him, and soon. Within hours his
plane would be leaving for the Americas,
any chance gone.
Placing his black suit jacket on
the back of his wire framed lawn chair,
the 5'8" man, walked off in pursuit of
the little boy. Lust in his eye he
followed the boy at a distance. Ensuring
no one would spot his calculated perv-
full meandering.
He caught site of Kamals deep brown
eyes as the boy looked him deeply head-
on. Seeing the child back into the thick
bush, this was the calculated chance he
hoped to gain. He stepped faster,
forcing Kamal back into the deep
covering of the green leafy bush.
Feeling safe from the sight of any
passers by, the thin almost wimpy man
made his move.
"Don't say anything and you will be
safe." He gripped Kamal by his
shoulders. "Do you understand me?" He
questioned the boy in whispers.
Kamal nodded his head in agreement.
In reality he had no idea what the man
meant. Fear made him nod his head. Fear
of not agreeing with whatever it was the
man was saying.
His shoulders where no longer held,
fear glued him in position, the same
fear that made him nod his head. The
boys' eyes followed the mans hands.
Kamal did not quite understand why the
stranger was taking out his adult sized
pee-pee. Did he need to go? Why did the
man force him into this place if all he
needed was a pee? His mind questioned
and re-questioned.
The lascivious American man pulled
out his 7 inch rock hard cock and
stroked it in front of the small 8 year
old innocent boy.
"Suck it, come on, suck my dick
kid." He grabbed the back of Kamals head
forcing him down. Stopping his shove,
Kamal crouched with a crotch eye view of
the man. His small red lips pried apart
by an engorged cock head pushing its way
into Kamals warm moist mouth. The adult
hips quickly started their gyration as
the yank face fucked the stunned boy.
Kamal started to suck, first in
fear. The mans shaft was running in and
out of his mouth, saliva leaking from
the tightly stretched corners. The stiff
penis never quite reached far enough to
make the cute child gag. After a dozen
or so strokes the boy took hold at the
base of the mans cock. Supporting his
balance, he continued to suck and guide
the man cock in and out of his suckling
mouth.
Pre-cum started to ooze from the
moaning mans slit. Kamal was getting his
first taste, a taste he found sugary
sweet. The boys inner inhibitions
subsided, he starting enjoying the
molestation.
His short pink tongue licked at the
mans juices, roaming the blood engorged
cock head. Wisps of breath shot from the
kid's nose. His heart beat doubled.
The grossly lewd man was in sexual
bliss, his ass cheeks clenching as he
humped his turid cock in to the boy's
mouth again and again. The disgusting
mans preference is an unwilling child
partner. Rape is his game of choice. The
foreigner was close to shooting his hot
load.
Sucking on the man's cock like a
pro, the little kid went wild.
"Here it comes kid, you better
swallow fast and don't miss any." His
grunted words warned the boy of the
expectant flood of cum.
Kamal had no idea what the guy
meant by his statement. This was all so
new to him. He did know he was happy in
this new place. His body and mind
slapped with new feelings and senses.
Kamal felt the mans pee-pee swell
and pulse in his mouth. A spray of
something hit the back of his throat,
then another blast. `This must be what
he meant about swallowing.' He thought
between the sharp green flashes of light
shooting across his closed eyelids.
Swallow he did, how he savored the new
taste. The 8 year old found the semen
similar to the earlier sweet flavor from
the mans pee-pee, perhaps a little more
tart. Strangely like pool water, but
thicker his young mind could not place
all the tastes and textures.
"You'll make a great little fag
boy." The credulous man scoffed at the
boy. "Shame I don't have time to fill
your tight little ass."
After putting away his deflated
penis, the man straightened his tie,
slapped the boy on the head and told him
to keep quiet. A look of disgust smeared
with contempt thrown at the youngster.
With that, the ass of a man disappeared
deeper into the bush leaving Kamal
alone. Alone and wanting to experience
more or these new emotions and taste
that fell on him this calm sunny Beirut
day.
Chapter Two - Bad Fruit
Credits roll, Kamal catches the
last twenty or so minutes of Jurassic
Park on the hotels movie channel. With
aid of the wireless remote, the bored
boy shuts off the TV. With the light of
the television set fading away, he can
barely make out the few furnishings
strategically placed throughout his
hotel room.
The timid boy spies the large
wardrobe with its reflective mirror
looking back at him. He hates mirrors at
night. By day he adores them, spending
many hours admiring himself in different
outfits and poses. An arm-chair,
sporting a floral cloth pattern, sits at
an angle in the far corner of the room.
His clothes delicately draped over the
side so as not to be wrinkled.
Having slept many hours on the two
plane rides, Kamal is not one bit tired.
Laying back on his queen-size bed the
crisp white cotton sheets lightly
scratch at his skin. His eyes close,
taking a deep breath, this is one of
those nice feelings he so enjoys.
Kamal fades into a personal zone,
one of comfort. A few memories pass in
his mind and fade as quick as they
arrived. Like most time the boy finds
this tract of thought, he drifts back,
back to when he met the American. His
abuser.
The soft fabric of his boxers lift
as an erection forms. His boyhood comes
to life, he has no control over it.
Vivid memories flash in his minds eye.
He can almost taste the mans cock again,
the juices that came from the mans
delicious penis.
Subconsciously the freshly aroused
child licks his lips. Wanting for the
lost moment to return, but fearful of
the man that brought it.
With slender fingers his hand finds
its way to the wasteband of his blue
silk under shorts. The feel of genuin
worm silk on his 3 inch hard tool is
what makes him happy to be a boy.
Nonie coughs and turns coming to
rest on her back. Gentle snores roll
from her mouth. Nothing loud, just
obnoxious enough to annoy her brother.
More than enough noise he knows to keep
him from falling asleep.
Penis deflating, the mood is gone.
Kamal looks about the for something to
do. Something to break the gloom. A
welcome pack is keenly displayed on his
night side table.
Inside he finds many useless
offerings. Not much for a boy to be
found in there. Having inherited his
fathers obsession for organization,
Kamal lays the contents of the bag on
his bed. Sat crossed legged, Indian
style he looks them over.
Three bags of coffee, tea, sugar
and whitener. A free medium pizza
offer, from a local delivery place.
`Now that could come in handy.'
Ads for the Hair stylist, Nails,
Dry cleaning, Internet Cafe, Shoe shine.
All pretty much useless.
Tossing the pile back in the
envelope, Kamal pauses.
"Internet Cafe?" A whisper escapes
his lips. "I haven't emailed anyone for
two day." "I could do with an MNS chat."
Pulling the offer card back out, he
reads it over. Rates $5.00 per hour,
every imaginable service available. Open
24-7, and at the bottom, a coupon for
ONE FREE hour.
"Hell Yes." The obviously excited
boy jumps up from the bed. Not wanting
to wake his sister, Kamal quietly pulls
on his shorts. Takes a clean white T-
shirt from the dresser and covers his
smooth upper body.
Making sure he has everything, Door
key, coupon, and few dollars just in
case. With his sandals in hand the brave
little man sneaks silently out of his
room, into the hallway.
He was right earlier, the carpet
does feel like sponge on his bear feet.
The faint crushing sound of carpet is
all that can be heard as the 10 year old
makes his way back to the elevator.
The call button is pushed and held,
he waits patiently for the car to
arrive.
"What if Mother looks out?" That
pesky voice is back. Mild apprehension
of being caught jolts his nerve.
The cars arrival is announced with
the same DING from before. Kamal enters
the elevator even before the doors are
fully open. E is pressed, once, twice,
three times before the doors start to
close.
`Glad I made you ask what E means
arnt you?' The voice trys to win points.
With the downward motion of the
car, the little boy senses relief. Kamal
leans against the back wall and puts on
his brown leather sandals. Studying the
map printed on the back of the coupon,
he calculates a sharp left out of the
elevator, down the corridor and the
Internet Cafe should be on the right.
The lights on the control panel
change as he passes by the floors, 3 - 2
- 1 - E and the telling DING sounds out.
Just like he read on the map, a
quick left and though the large double
doors.
"Good thing there not locked." He
thinks.
A not too observant desk clerk,
covering the night shift, hears the
arrival of the elevator on the balcony
above, failing to see anyone come out.
His view obstructed by the line of
baggage carts, stored awaiting the
morning rush.
Kamal makes his way down the long
narrow corridor. It has a striking
resemblance to the type he walked in the
airports. The continuing blue carpet is
all that linked this hall to the hotel.
The clean walls and modern styling
becoming dominant features. A few fern
plants sit in their pots, dotted along
the way.
Just less than half way, Kamal
spies windows on either side of the
futuristic walkway. Stopping to peer
through the thick double glazed panes,
the boy is astonished. With quick
realization, Kamal finds he is not in a
tunnel, but on a covered bridge. Car
pass under him, their headlights
disappearing beneath his feet. Glowing
red tail light appearing in the dark and
running off in the distance.
Eager to get on MSN and see if any
friends are online, the boy tears
himself away for the hypnotic motions of
traffic.
Just as promised on the map, Kamal
finds the Internet Cafe. Door wide open
and sounds of television emanating out.
Entering the electronic haunt as he
owned the place, the boy b'lined to the
counter. Plopped his coupon face up on
the laminated green counter.
"Can I use this?" He asked the old
man sitting, staring off absently.
"Shit kid, you near gave me a
coronary." The aged attendant fast
breathed his reply.
The gaunt 60 year old man had been
hired to cover the 6pm to 8am shift. Not
that they expected to be busy, but the
policy was 24-7. As long as they had a
body in the seat management was happy.
So long as the body didn't pass away on
duty.
"Sure kid, any machine you want, 1
hour free, after that you got to pay."
He rambled the line without taking his
eye off his portable TV. The sound
turned up loud to compensate for his
hearing loss. His wrinkled fingers
pulled the discarded coupon, allowing it
to drop to his side.
Kamal spotted snacks on a wire
stand to his right. Choosing two candy
bars from the mediocre selection. He
placed an `Oh Henry' and `Snickers' bar
on the counter.
"Can I have a fruit juice please
sir." A thirsty Kamal spoke loud enough
for the aged man to take notice he was
still there and needing to be served
once more.
"A'hl I got is Banana and
Strawberry." It is his job to make sure
everything is restocked, but its a task
the old guy holds off until just before
his shift ends. That way he isn't back
and forth carrying boxes. His years
weakened back no longer able to lift
without pain.
Unknown to the boy, they were being
watched. Cameras in every corner,
watching every move. That is standard
hotel security, but not the kind of
watching that was putting young Kamal in
harms way.
Pete, the bellhop had arrived
earlier to download boy-porn from the
internet. He hears Kamals sweet voice
ring out from his conversation at the
counter. Rather than make his presence
known, the teen predator calculates his
move. Pulling back into his cubby-hole
wanting not to be seen, he listens
carefully to hear what part of the room
the hot little guy will sit.
Pete has been honing his senses for
some years. Watching young boys to see
how they act and react. Analyzing traits
and demeanors to work out who best and
who easiest he can concur.The simplest
way to abuse and not get caught.
Pete is not a harsh child rapist,
stereotyped by all the bad tabloid news.
He is a boylover, true, but would not
dream of hurting a boy. As long as the
boy doesn't think of sex as being hurt.
One set of foot steps are heard
crossing the airconditioned floor. One
chair pulled out, one PC whirls to life.
Pete is elated to know the boy has
come down alone. At least he is for now,
the off duty bellhop hopes the situation
doesn't change.
`Don't bother us until morning.'
`Isn't that what I heard the kids
father tell them? ` Pete quietly thinks.
`All right, gonna get me some boy dick.'
Kamal is busily chatting away with
a school friend. Telling of his trip to
America and the lack of anything
exciting to yet happen. The boys
enjoying the time together in chat.
The Dell computer is fulfilling all
his current electronic needs. Fast,
responsive and sleek. He likes very much
this stylish black case and matching
flat screen LCD monitor.
How very much he would like to have
a similar one at home. To replace his
aged machine. He had hoped on getting
one for his 10th birthday last month.
The boy did well with gifts, but no new
computer.
Pete waited quietly biding his
time, savoring the menace of the hunt.
The screen flickered before him,
scanning the Internet for new photos,
stories, movies anything he could find.
The teenage chicken-hawk has the taste,
taste for fresh hot suck-ulent boy meat.
Finishing the last of his juice,
Kamal drops the bottle clanging in to a
waste basket to his side. Reaches for
another candy bar, only to find two
empty wrappers.
`Hmmm , I ate both already?" Hands
swoosh back the keyboard, fingers fly
across the keys.
KamalZ: are you going away this
summer?
Arabkid: nah, you know my parents
wont
KamalZ: yeah, sucks
Arabkid: wish my Ps had let me go
with you
KamalZ: we would have fun
Arabkid: like last year, that was
a screem
Kamal stops typing, a feeling grips
him from inside, a strange gurgle. Then,
a sudden sharp pain jabs at him. His
guts turn and squeeze, the pain is
great, near agony.
Kamal hunches forward. The boy is
starting to make sense of the pain, his
stomach is disagreeing with something he
ate or drank. He eyes the spent
wrappers, then the discarded bottle.
`Bad fruit, your a dumb ass, and
you know it.' The voice tells him,
matter of factly.
KamalZ: gtg
Arabkid: why, the wrinklies there
KamalZ: na, gota dump bad
Arabkid: K..c ya
With haste the boy knows he has to
run. Within seconds he would be filling
those blue silk shorts.
So eager to get to the restroom,
Kamal grabs the mouse clicking with a
flurried rush of motion, START,
SHUTDOWN.
Flinging his chair back as he
stands, Kamal reverses his body from the
confines of the cubicle. Scanning the
walls for a sign, or symbol, he has to
go bad, and now.
`Where is it,,,,,,,, there god
yes." Spotting the green sign with
pictures directing him to the far back
of the large quiet room. He speeds away,
cold chills on his skin.
Kamal runs the short distance,
pushing forcefully as he comes in
contact with a cold black door. Taking
little noticing of the oversized
restroom, smells of fresh clean pine
eminate. At the back of the room, a
stall door hangs slightly open,
beckoning him in. Not stopping to look
around, the desperate boy races in
swinging the door shut behind him.
His pants and short hit the ground
even before his feet stop. Twisting on
the spot he squats on the seat, filling
the porcelain bowl with sour remains.
Pete notices the sudden commotion
in the room, then a renewed silence.
Only the old mans TV can be heard.
Thinking the kid has left he kicks the
air under his desk.
`FUCK' Anger rolls his bottom lip
as his teeth bite into the thin flesh.
`Fuck it' No one can hear his
cussing or see the rage engulf his
redened face.
Unsure, and wanting some type of
closure, Pete makes his way to the PC
where the boy was sitting moments
before. He sheepishly peeks over the
short sidewall, not wanting to alarm the
kid if he is still there. The absence of
a body, that cute sexy body, tells the
now incensed teen he missed his chance.
Punching the thin carpeted cubby
wall in a release of anger, the monitor
shakes, causing a tiny flicker of light
to reflect off the open candy wrappers.
Pete peers his head around to view fully
the screen.
`OK, what's this.'
In his haste to get relief, Kamal
didn't fully shut down the computer. The
monitor is still showing a confirm
shutdown window.
Peter grabs for the mouse, clicks
[cancel] and is brought to Kamals last
few words shared with his buddy back
home.
KamalZ: gtg
Arabkid: why, the wrinklies there
KamalZ: na, gota dump bad
Arabkid: K..c ya
`gota dump.. He's in the Bathroom,
Fuc'n A man, Fuc-in-A'
A rampant hornyness scores his
verile body. His cock flings to full
mast. Head turning in the direction of
the restroom, the lanky body follows as
his legs carry him in a rush to see if
the aloof boy is truly still here. Here
to be concurred, coerced, enjoyed.
Chapter Three - Bliss
His face is pale, little beads of
sweat appear and roll down his forehead.
He sits rigidly, arms tautly extended to
the sides of the toilet seat. Hands
clenching under the edges. Eyes wide
open staring hard at the ceiling while
tiny tremors he cannot control begin to
shake his body.
Kamal didn't hear the door open, or
any one enter the brightly light room.
Straining and grunting takes most of his
control. The sudden on set of pain
managed to clear his intestinal track
rather quickly. A few red faced pushes
and its all over. His bowels delay
telling the brain of its empty state.
His poor spent rectum keeps pulsing,
trying to release feces that no longer
exist.
Quietly Pete eases his way across
the floor, listening closely. Assessing
the situation, the room, his chances.
`Is this the kid? Of course it is,
it has to be him, doesn't it?'
Pete can hear the boys sounds from
the other side of the thins off-gray
partitioned wall. With the stealth of a
CIA agent, the off duty Bellhop crouches
to the cold floor, head twisting he
peers under the gap betweenwall and
floor.
A crisp whiteness of porcelain
gleams off the floor tiles. Then, there,
the boys feet and legs dangle down in
front of the toilet. Khaki shorts,
covering leather sandal. He cant quite
make out anything higher up.
Inwardly assured this is the boy.
Pete eases himself back up to a stood
position, back straight and poised in
anticipation.
"You all right in there? Giving a
soft knuckle rap on the wall.
"Ahh, yes Sir. I think so." Kamal
stunned to hear a voice.
"I love your accent kid, and you
don't have to call me Sir, I thought we
were buds." The phrase ends on a high
tone bringing buds to an enunciated
waver.
"Peter?" "From the hotel?" Kamal
could now put a face to the voice.
"Y'p, but I prefer Pete. And what's
your name anyhow?"
"Kam" The boy shortens keeping in
line with the unseen teen.
"You sure you OK?" "There's sure a
lot of noises coming from in there."
"Well, no, my butt hurts real bad.
I don't know why."
Pete takes the last statement as an
invite. Pushing lighkty on the door, it
swings open. Neither of the boys
realized it had been left unlocked.
Kamal gulps a sudden bolt of air seeing
the casually dressed teen enter his
stall.
The half naked boys hands rush to
cover his mid section. Pulling his T-
shirt down, not wishing to blemish his
modesty.
Showing little interest, Pete
notices the boy covering up quickly, he
chooses not to acknowledge the action.
Instead his mind is busy working,
working out a plan of seduction.
Getting a boy to enjoy sex and keep
quiet about it easy. Coercing a boy to
start sex play requires a great talent.
A talent that Pete has almost mastered.
On entering the stall, Pete took
size of the space and all its contents.
Boy, toilet, air freshner, sink, hand
rails, paper dispenser and hand dryer.
"Good, everything I needs is here."
His plan is laid. The Boylover is glad
Kam chose the handicap stall. So much
more room, and the sink, that will be
very helpful.
"Its OK buddy, I'm trained in these
kinda things." He says dropping his
satchel at the boys feet. The door now
shut and the bolt of the latch slid
locked.
Pulling a stack of paper hand
towels from the dispenser over the sink,
Pete draws some warm water dampening the
brown paper.
"Let me have a look then, stand up
kid." His order is given in a commanding
tone.
Kamal unsure of the situation,
feels a little apprehensive. He stands
as instructed and lifts his shirt
bareing the majority of his young body
for the teen to see.
Flicking lose water from his hands,
Pete turns to notice the mocha colored
boy standing with his back to him, neck
twisting to see the teen.
"Lets have a closer look then."
His teen cock twitches in his sweat
pants.
A touch of anxiety starts to show
in the mocha preteen eyes. As the warm
water is wiped in his crack a soothing
calm clears the voices in his head.
Pete, kneeling behind the child gently
washes away the acidic remnants of bowel
movement leaving clean light brown skin.
A little raw, a little tender.
The boys firm butt cheeks are
parted, more gentle washing performed.
His anal ring comes to view, a little
redder than pink, no longer rose. The
diuretic fluids have left a temporary
inflammation on the boys hot sphincter.
"That's a little sore. We best put
a little cream on it." A very horny Pete
convinces the youngster.
Reaching into his satchel he
dropped by Kamal's feet, Pete pulls out
a small clear plastic container. Telling
the unsuspecting boy it will help the
pain, he scoops up a very large glob on
his finger. The cool slippery concoction
is spread liberally on the waiting boys
hole.
A home made mixture, 70% Anal-Ease
25% KY Jelly and 5% WET. Cherry flavored
WET. Pete has been making and storing
jars like this one since he was first
made aware of anal sex by his fourth
grade elementary school teacher.
Fingers probe the boys anal
passage. A little more pressure is
applied with each successive circling
motion.
Pete takes notice as the silent
child slowly relaxes to his new erotic
feelings. His balance being challenged
with the hap-hazardous stance and gentle
probing.
"Kam, lean forward and hold the
rail on the wall Guy!" He requests in a
subtle knowing voice.
Kamal seeing the metal handrail
designed for handicapped people, takes
hold with both hands, allowing his the
side of his head to rest between them.
Late night sleepy feelings are
coming fast. Pete's soothing light
touches and drawing voice slip Kamal
deeper and deeper into another word. A
world somewhere between now and
dreamland.
Fingers probing the tight little
boy hole, Pete feels the muscle tissue
loosen. Switching from fingers, the teen
inserts both thumbs in the entrance to
the boys chasm. Lightly prying the sides
of the young ass open, inserting more of
the home-made jell inside. Both thumbs
slowly invade the boy and stretch the
sides outward.
Not a wince or word muttered, Pete
guides his thumbs inside the boy until
his palms rest flat on the firm boy
checks. The ten year old now feeling
the invasion of his back passage moans a
pleasured release.
"Have you had sex before kid?" Pete
asks of the boy.
Kamal nods his head, recalling his
first experience. Thoughts of cock
sucking bring a smile to his face.
Thoughts so vivid a taste of man sperm
tingles in the back of his throat.
Mis-interpreting the nod, Pete
thinks the boy means he has engaged in
anal sex. He prepares to take the boy to
a newer high.
Removing one hand from the coffee
ass, Pete stands on his knees, pulling
down his cotton track pants and plad
boxers. More of the jell is taken from
the container sat at his side, wiped on
his stone hard cock head and soothed
down the 6" shaft.
The teen boy thinking only with his
small head brings himself up on his
feet. Cock higher than the boys butt
hole, Peter pushes the sensitive head
down. Bringing it in contact with the
young virgin ass. A little forward
pressure and the purple throbbing head
is resting at the gate to boy-hood
paradise.
A deep breath to keep from coming.
The sensation of the little ass-ring
squeezing his head sucking on his piss
slit, is almost to much.
Hands resting palms down on the
boys soft smooth hips. Bones almost
jutting through the skin. The teen curls
his fingers, taking hold of the boys
pelvis.
In unison, their eyes close and
roll. The teen cock slides forward with
little effort into the hot hole of the
tiny boy. Bottoming out in no time, the
pain killing jell is working wonders.
Kamal feels the penis fill his ass.
His own dick is dancing to the rhythmic
fucking. Slow steady thrust with an
upward tilt. The teen is not fucking the
boy, he is riding him to a pelvic waltz.
His hands holding firm the boy as he
leads this exotic, erotic love dance.
"You are so hot boy, I love your
ass" His labored words purred to the boy
holding fast to the wall.
Kamal's head arches up on his neck,
eyes roll deep back into his head. Stars
shooting in euphoria.
The time is close, Pete's balls
pull near to his body. A firm grip taken
on the boy hips. The gentle
Shakespearean love session fades, a ruff
fast pounding take its place.
Every thrust of the man cock
bottoms out. The boy now being screwed
with quick repetitive rabbit fucks.
Kamal's young preteen body
shudders, his first orgasm quickly
engulfs the boy. His little balls
retract into their childhood hiding
place. The youthful dick twitches,
unseen as he is rocked with pleasure.
The teens, man-cock squeezed from
the boys anal ring clamping down in
orgasm. Their hips rock in tune during
the last moments of blissful copulation.
Pete drills one last time, forward,
ejecting his semen deep inside the boys
tight ass. Berate jets of cum, fly even
deeper inside the boys colon.
Chapter Four- Its in the name
Kamal finds himself looking out a
window overseeing the corner of a very
tall Hotel.
Back in the overpass corridor the
boy still in a daze of bliss. Looking
out absently at the cars passing by.
Lights leave their trail in the black of
night. A few street lamps contrast the
dark streets.
Minutes pass the boy by, his gaze
unbroken into the distance, a numb
feeling still encasing his body.
A stray headlight flashes across
the widow pane burning into his dream
state. His eyes follow the beam back to
the ground under him. A car has stopped
at the corner. Unusual, the traffic
light offers the driver permission as
they shine an emerald green on the
silvery hood and up to the darkened
windshield.
A boy emerges for the cars
passenger side. The door slams shut
without the boy touching it. Removed
form the confines of the automobile,
anger boils the child to a point of
release. A punch is thrown. The tightly
clenched first wallops the doors window.
Kamal can see the child stood,
tears forming in his eyes, as the car
peels away. Not knowing why anyone would
leave a child on the side of the road so
late at night, he decides to see if the
boy needs help.
A few feet back down the overpass
is a door with `Exit' marked in bold
letters. A modest push on the horizontal
bar and the door swings open. A small
concrete landing with rusty metal rails
lead him downstairs to the sidewalk
below.
Coming up on the boy from behind,
Kamal sees the boy stamping his feet in
frustration. Comprehending the boys
situation has obviously infuriated him.
"You OK?" Kamal asks the young
stranger, concern in his voice.
"Huh!" the boy pauses. Shocked to
find he is no longer alone. "FUCK OFF,
this is my corner.
The verosity of the verbal attack
brings fear to Kamal. He backs away, not
wanting a confrontation.
"Sorry, I, I didn't mean it. You
startled me man." The boy reaches a hand
to shake with Kamal.
"The guy stiffed me, I sucked his
stinking dick and I never got paid." The
scruffy boy kicked the ground again in
protest of his plight.
"Paid, you get paid for it?" A
quizative Kamal asks, eyeing up the boy.
He isn't any older than me, is he? Kamal
questions his own self.
"Yah, you ever had sex with a man?"
The new boy returns the same looks,
sizing up Kamal.
"Sure, I just ummmm, well he just,
in my, Yes." Kamal cant quite find the
words.
"I'm Kamal, friends call me Kam."
He takes the hand to shake it but finds
himself holding the onto the boy peering
in his eyes.
"Hi Kam, I'm Tony, I love your
accent and if you like we can make a lot
of money together if your interested."
Tony knows what his punters like, and
Kamal will be a hit.
"So, whats Kamal mean, like where
your from?" The kid asks, knowing the
clients will want to know later.
"Perfect one. But I aint perfect."
Kamal gives his answer with a smile and
grin.
Before Kamal can decide if he is
interested in Tony's offer, a car pulls
up. The power window form the expensive
looking car glides down. A well dressed
handsome looking man leans over the seat
looking at the boys.
"You boys looking for some fun?" A
deep voice rings out in the dark. His
eyes examining the two prize cuts of boy
meat standing on the curb, still holding
hands.
"Sure but it wont be cheap." Tony
exclaims in a forceful tone, still upset
from his previous financial set back.
"OK, $100 for both, 30 minutes and
you both to worship my body. Deal or
not?" An experienced John offers the
barter back to Tony.
"Money up front and its a deal,
Daddy." Tony elongates the word Daddy,
with a sexy timbre in his voice.
"Aaa, What's up with him? He looks
stoned or something." The man eyes
between the pair of boys.
"Nah, he's just all glassy eyed
`cus he just got fuck good by his
boyfriend." Retorts Tony.
The man tells them to get in, a
smile pursed on his lips. Ideas of
fucking the boys ass jolt his penis to
an steel erection.
Tony tells Kamal to get in the back
as he jumps in the front seat of the
Cadilac, sliding straight over to the
man. His hand landing on his tented
crotch.
Kamal still in his feeling of
sexual bliss comes to a stop directly
behind the man, visions of his American
bring his heart to a palpitating frenzy.
The warm boy lips kiss the mans neck and
ears. Cooing, moaning sensual sounds
Kamal is ready for more action.
The car pulls away from the curb-
side into the darkness, two gorgeous
boys about to enjoy the virility of a
man and explore their own sexual
desires.