Date: Sun, 13 Nov 2011 20:52:37 -0800 (PST) From: Macout Mann <macoutmann@yahoo.com> Subject: Teenaged Hustler 6 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. Be warned. If such activity offends you or if you are underage, please move on. TEENAGED HUSTLER BY Macout Mann Chapter 6 The next day was Saturday. Matt, Jim, and his dad all lazed around most of the day. A little before five, Matt asked if he could borrow Jim's pickup to run an errand. Jim said he needed to get outa the house. He'd just take him. As they pulled away Jim asked, "Where ya need to go?" "You know where Winston's Men's Shop is?" "Yeah. You goanna spend all your loot on fancy clothes?" "Nah. Somebody's buying some for me." "Goddam!" Jim responded. Matt explained what the deal was. Said he didn't really understand why clothes were so important. But he was in a go-along and get-along mode. At the store the pink shirted fairy was again out front, only today he had a lavender shirt. And his attitude was much different. "Mr. Winston is out of the store, sir," he mewled, "but your things are ready. Let me get them for you." Back home, Matt tried on his suit, the first one he'd ever owned. Both Jim and his dad whistled their approval. Matt was gorgeous. And the sportswear fit perfectly too. "I can't wait `til Tuesday," Matt said. But then he changed into what Spangler had called "his Mobil costume." He was itching to hit the block again. Not so much for the money. Matt just loved the excitement, the power he felt when a man was willing to pay for his body. Jim was tempted to join him, but decided to watch baseball on tv instead. As Si watched his provocatively-dressed son trot down the front steps, he couldn't stop his dick from telling him what he didn't want to believe. He compensated with a quick session with Jim before the game began. When Matt arrived downtown he needed to piss, so he headed over to the Greyhound john. A greasy-looking dude was at the next urinal. "I'd sure like to taste that," he mumbled. "O.K.," Matt said, "but it'll cost ya a coupla Ben Franklins." "Fuck you." "Cheapskate." His bladder emptied, Matt sauntered around the block for over an hour. It was getting dark, when one of his regulars came by. Matt got in the car. "Been missing you," the man said. Matt laughed. "Sorry," he said. "But I know you aint been missing out. The others just aint as hot as me." By the time they'd reached his favorite parking place, the man already had his dick out. Matt gobbled it up. He knew what the man liked, and he expertly provided it. Slow suction. A lot of spit. Deep throat. When his client had ejected his cream and Matt pulled off, he asked, "You wanna do me?" "Not tonight," the man said. That was too bad. Matt collected double, when the guy wanted to blow him too. It was a fee for service sort of arrangement. Back on the block, he was approached by "a slobby fat motherfucker." Matt turned him down. "You got me wrong, mister," he teased. "I'm just here waiting for my dad." The potential client beat a hasty retreat. It was after nine, when a bright red, late model 4x4 drove slowly around the block several times. It finally stopped about twenty feet in front of Matt. He walked down and looked in the open window. Inside was a Charles-Atlas-type about thirty five in a tank top and thread-bare jeans with biceps that looked as big around as Matt's waist. "Need some help?" Matt asked. "I dunno," came the reply. "I was lookin' for some action." The high tenor voice wasn't effeminate, but it seemed strange coming from this huge stud. "What sorta action?" Matt wanted to know. "Well, if you don't know, I don't guess you can help me." "I don't know about that. I just like to be sure we're on the same page." Matt casually gave his pouch a scratch. He noticed the driver of the truck did the same, but a little more vigorously. "Hop in," the guy said. "Let's talk." "Better drive around the block," Matt said. "Cops are pretty strict about no parking zones. "Whatcha up to?" he continued. "I'm just passin' through town. Stayin' at the Quality Inn. Lookin' for a dick to play with." "You know it'll cost ya." Negotiations were quickly completed. Turned out the stud was a bottom after all. Just wanted to mess around awhile before sucking Matt off. Might want to get fucked. They'd go to his room and after they were through he'd bring Matt back. Matt collected in advance and the guy agreed to ten dollars more if he decided to get fucked. At the motel they both stripped. The john had a good-looking, open face, with shoulder-length brown hair. And he was one mound of muscle. Pecs as big as a lot of women's boobs. Six pack without a trace of fat. A little dick hanging between his mammoth thighs. Matt figured it was probably average, just dwarfed by his oversized everything-else. He was glad the guy didn't want to fuck him. He'd probably be crushed. They climbed in bed. The guy's hug practically crushed Matt anyway, but he was still real tender. He nibbled Matt's tits, licked his pecs, tongued his ears, stroked every inch of his body. Even tongued his asshole, but Matt indicated that was a no-no. Finally, the trick got to the main course. He sucked each of Matts balls and then took the full length of his dick into his hot mouth. He teased it with his tongue and massaged it with his lips. He was lost in the moment, until he felt Matt's tool expand in anticipation of its climax. Then he buried his nose in Matt's bush and let the cum gush into his throat. "That was so great," he said. "You're damned good too," Matt replied. "How old are you?" "It don't matter, does it?" "I guess not...now." When Matt got home, he found his dad and Jim watching a "Saturday Night Live" repeat. "Well, here's the boy with the golden dick," Jim teased. "You ought to be out trying to make a buck instead of being glued to the idiot box," Matt retorted. "Might as well," Jim said. "The baseball game was lousy." "So you make out?" Matt's dad asked. "Got a coupla tricks. One of `em was a gentle fucking giant. Bet he weighed 240 and not an ounce of fat on him." "You fuck him or did he fuck you?" Jim asked. "He was talking about getting fucked, but he just blew me. Damned good cocksucker. "You going out tomorrow?" "Nah. I think I'm finished `til Tuesday. Can't wait to see what goanna happen then. Right now, I'm going to bed. Too much exercise for one night. Walking around the block'll kill ya." Jim was still watching tv. But before Matt dozed off, Si tapped on the door and asked if he was asleep. "Nah, not yet," Matt answered. It was hot August night. Matt was naked, lying on top of his sheets. His dad turned on the light, sat on the edge of the bed and said, "We need to talk. "You know, after we got together the night your mom left, I told you I never wanted to do that again. And you said you didn't see anything wrong with it. You have a right to feel that way. And you know I aint a religious man. I don't give a shit how much you hustle or who you have sex with, but I just don't think it's right for a guy to fuck around with his son. "The reason I'm saying this is that this afternoon I got a hardon just watching you go down the steps. I messed around with Jim after you left, but I was thinking about you. Tonight, when you was talking, I got another boner. I want you to promise me that if I come on to you, you'll stop me." There was a long silence. "I can't do that, Dad," Matt finally said. "I can't do that, because I want to be with you, just like Jim is. All I can promise is that I'll continue to try not come on to you, if that's what you want. I'm sorry." Another long silence. "Fair enough," Si replied. It was all he could do not to reach over and feel Matt's naked body lying beside him. Instead, he stood up, walked to the door, said "Goodnight," and snapped off the light. - - - - - - - - - Feedback is important. Please let me hear from you. macoutmann@yahoo.com Copyright 2011 by Macout Mann. All rights reserved.