Date: Tue, 3 Jan 2012 09:28:47 -0800 (PST)
From: Macout Mann <macoutmann@yahoo.com>
Subject: Teenaged Hustler 17

This story is fiction.  Any resemblance to actual places, persons, or
events is purely coincidental.  This story also contains explicit
homosexual activity between teens and adults.  If such offends you, or if
you are underage, please move on.


			     TEENAGED HUSTLER

			      by Macout Mann


				Chapter 17


Baxter's fury had now shifted from Si Edwards to the Bromfields and Brother
Michael.

He spent several hours comforting Randy, finally putting him to bed and
lulling him to sleep.  His wife came home from Bible Study, and wisely he
decided not to investigate her role, if there was one, in the situation
that Randy had revealed to him.  She was very solicitous of his obvious
unease.  He said there had been a problem at work.

The next day was Friday.  Baxter called in sick.  He told his wife he had
something he needed to do at the church.  He took Randy with him.

Once there, he demanded that they see the pastor.  He was told that the
pastor prepared his sermon on Friday mornings and couldn't be disturbed for
any reason.

"You either let me see the pastor or I'll kick the door of his goddamned
study down!" Baxter yelled.

Baxter's vehemence got the secretary's attention.  Soon a very annoyed
parson was facing Baxter and his son.  "What is so important, Brother
Baxter?" he chided.

"Tell him, Randy," Baxter commanded.

Randy normally would have panicked in the august presence of the leader of
Christ's flock, but sharing his father's ire and feeling his support, he
spoke out without fear or shame.  He told everything there was to tell
about Teen Joy.  Very explicitly.  He didn't find it necessary to mention
JCC.

"Rubbish!" the pastor said.  "The Bromfields are a good Christian family,
big supporters of the church.  And what you say about Brother Michael is
scandalous.  I'll not listen to such nonsense."

"You get Michael in here right now," Baxter responded, "or the next place
Randy and I will visit is the police station."

Brother Michael put up a good front, even when faced with names and places
that Randy supplied.  He caved only when Randy said, "O.K. pull down your
pants and show us your tat.  If I'm not telling the truth, how would I know
you have a tattoo on your right thigh that says `Eat me, baby?'"

The pastor convinced Baxter that it would be best to handle the matter,
actually both things the Bromfields were involved in, privately.  There was
no need to get the church involved in any sort of public scandal.  It was
discovered that Brother Michael had a serious family problem, requiring his
immediate involvement.  It was so urgent that he couldn't stay for the
farewell reception the church would love to have had for him.  And, of
course, the pastor wrote a completely different sermon to deliver the next
Sunday.  Something about the importance of sexual purity.


As soon as he and his father got back home, Randy informed Matt of what had
happened.  The Edwards family was very relieved.


Matt had a return engagement with the stockbroker he'd tricked earlier in
the week.  This guy was probably the youngest john Matt'd been with.  He
wasn't an exercise freak, but had a nice body and a huge dick.  At least
nine inches and super thick.  And he was movie-star-handsome.  Matt was
half-hard with anticipation as he knocked on the door of his client's
townhouse.

Malcolm--that was the guy's name, as if that mattered--opened the door.
He was already shirtless.  Wearing black 501s.  Matt wanted to grab him
around his waist, but before he could, his partner took Matt's hands in his
and guided them to his groin.

"Hi, guy," he said.  "I just had to see you again.  You remind me so much
of me...about ten years ago.  Just loved it all.  Not that I still don't,
but..."

"I think I know what you mean," Matt answered.  "Probably the reason I was
hot to see you again."  He massaged the other man's equipment, as he spoke.

Malcolm drew Matt close, blew in his ear, and whispered, "Remember your
first time?"

"Oh, shit!" Matt responded, "do I?"

"I think everybody does.  My best buddy grabbed my dick right after
wrestling practice one time.  Said he could tell I was hot for him.  No
need not to give in."  As he spoke, he was undressing Matt, and Matt was
eagerly unbuttoning his Levis.

Soon they were together on the floor licking every inch of each other's
muscle-toned bodies.  "So what happened your first time?" Malcolm wanted to
know.

Matt told him about finding his dad and his uncle together and how things
developed after that.  As they continued to stimulate each other, Matt told
him about his first hustling experiences.

"I never did that," Malcolm admitted.  "But I wonder.  You think I could
sell my dick down on the block at my age?"

"Fuck, yes," Matt said.

Randy had been very detailed in telling Matt about their encounter with the
pastor.  After that, for some reason Matt was feeling completely free,
completely open, completely without hangups.  He and Malcolm soon found
their dicks in each other's mouths.  And the extent of their encounter went
well beyond what had been bargained for and paid for.

"But what the fuck," Matt thought.  "You gotta love it all."

He was still fired up when he returned home.  Jim was willing.


The weekend was calm.

Monday, Matt talked with his dad for the first time about college and about
Spangler's offer.  Si responded that Spangler had mentioned it to him
several times.  He'd told Spangler it was Matt's call.  "I think it's a
great opportunity for you," he told Matt, "but if you don't want to go,
you'll just be wasting your time."

He also said that he'd gotten an offer to sell JCC.  "Damned good deal," he
said.  "Leave us all in good shape.  And, hell, I can always go back to
selling.  A lot less stressful anyhow.  Not as much ass, but you'd be
surprised what you can get into in these small towns."


Tuesday, Baxter called and asked to see both Si and Matt.  He brought Randy
with him to the meeting.

"I came to apologize," Baxter began.  "I still think what you do is awful,
but I was wrong to accuse you of corrupting my boy.  That had already been
done.  And what's done can't be undone.

"You did tell me you were a Christian.  I don't see how you can say that.
But..."

"I became a Christian, Mr. Baxter, when I was baptized," Si interrupted.
"That can't be undone either.  I may not be a good Christian, but that's
not for me to say, or for you to say.  That's for God to say.

"My family doesn't go to church, because I can't accept a lot of the stuff
that your preachers spout about...well, about sex, among other things.  We
live in the 1970s.  The Bible was written for people that lived two
thousand... twenty-five-hundred years ago.  The principles are eternal.
The words were for people who had ancient understandings.

"So, yes.  We must not take advantage of the young.  We must not put young
boys or girls in situations they are not prepared to face.  I don't do
that.  Did the girl or the boy that introduced Randy here to the pleasures
of sex do that?  From what I heard, they didn't do that either.  He doesn't
seem to have been damaged.  He's just been put into a situation where he's
told that what he is doing, what he's enjoying, is wrong.  And I think
that's wrong.  Sex is a normal, natural activity.  And for people
comfortable with having sex with members of their own gender, that's normal
too.

"I can't hope to change your mind, but I do hope that you can accept that
Randy's take is--if not valid--at least not condemnable."

"Thank you, Mr. Edwards," Randy interjected.

"I love my son," Baxter stated.  "Since all this happened, I have come to
love him even more.  You told me last week that you could appreciate my
feelings.  I can now also appreciate your feelings, and Randy's.  I can
never agree with you.  But I do understand, and that's why I apologize."

"You may be interested," Si said, "that I am selling my business, not
because I think it's awful, as you do--it will continue and will
prosper--but my experience with you has convinced me that I don't need
the headaches that go along with it."


Thursday night.  Matt met with Spangler at the condo.  Suck first, then
fuck.

"So you're ready to go to college after all?"  Spangler asked, as they
basked in the afterglow.

"I guess you've convinced me, Austin.  You and Dad."

"Well, your grades aren't good enough to get you into a really good
school," Spangler said, "but your scores are o.k.  It's a little late, but
I can speak to the admissions folks at State.  There are always a few
places open.

"I'll miss being with you.  At least until Thanksgiving."

"Well you won't be pissed, if I hit the streets ever so often in the
meantime, will you?" Matt asked.


				  THE END


Copyright 2011 by Macout Mann.

Thanks for reading.  Any comments are still appreciated.
macoutmann@yahoo.com.

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