Date: Sun, 27 Nov 2011 20:14:28 -0800 (PST) From: Macout Mann <macoutmann@yahoo.com> Subject: Teenaged Hustler 9 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 9 The week passed slowly for Matt. He did go down to the block a couple of times, picked up four or five tricks. His dad was out of town until Friday night, and even then he didn't get home until after ten. So Matt still had no idea what Si had decided, when they sat down with Spangler Saturday morning. Si raised a couple of technical questions, which Spangler answered to his satisfaction. Then he said, "Well, I still think it's fucking risky. But Matt is hot to do it. I think Jim is too. And Matt says you're on the level. Time will tell about that. It's against my better judgment, but I'll go along. I just hope I don't wind up in the joint." He and Spangler shook hands. Spangler said, "I don't think you'll regret your decision. "We may as well get things underway. May I use your telephone?" Spangler called the lawyer he had mentioned before and, despite its being Saturday, arranged a meeting at the lawyer's office later that morning. He also called Reznick and told him the deal was on. While they waited for the lawyer to get to his office, Spangler had another meeting with Jim. He loved the raw passion of the twenty-year-old. Meanwhile, Reznick called Matt and invited him to dinner at Cambridge House, the city's most elegant hotel. Things were moving right along. At the lawyer's office Spangler introduced Si and explained that he wanted to set up a small business. He told Si that the lawyer, while a one man firm, often did work for him, things that he didn't want the larger firms his businesses retained to have to deal with. They once again went over all the details that needed to be in the incorporation documents. The lawyer suggested a company name, "Jobs Cheerfully Completed, Inc.," that was agreeable to everyone. And Spangler wrote a check to the lawyer for $20,000, with instructions that after deducting his fee and the costs of incorporation, he was to send his firm's check for the balance to Si, made out to Jobs Cheerfully Completed. Si was to use the check to open the company's bank account. And he'd be in business. Si couldn't help but muse that $20,000 was more than his house was worth. A house in the next block had recently had sold for seventeen. Reznick picked up Matt, suitably scrubbed and decked out in suit and tie, promptly at six-thirty. He made sure that Matt understood that this was purely an educational venture. "I don't have the money Austin does," he explained. "I'll teach you everything you need to know. You'll pay your tuition by having sex with me." "Understood, Victor," Matt grinned. Lesson 1, how to dine at the city's most expensive restaurant: The car came to a stop under the hotel's marquee. Valets on both sides opened their doors, Reznick handing over the keys and saying, "My nephew and I will be having dinner." To the maitre d' at the entrance to the dining room, he said "I'm Mr. Reznick." "Yes, sir. A table for two." They were escorted across the room and seated, the maitre d' holding Reznick's chair, a waiter holding Matt's. The table was covered with white linen and set almost as elaborately Reznick's had been. There were two forks, two knives, and a teaspoon. Reznick explained that the smaller fork was for salad, if he ordered one; that the sharper knife was for steak; that if he ordered an appetizer, soup or a dessert, the waiter would bring utensils for those. The waiter returned and Reznick ordered a cocktail. "You need to get used to making conversation while only the john has something to drink," Reznick said. "Most of Austin's out-of-town associates stay here at Cambridge House," he added. "You can see why it's important to seem at home here." The dinner proceeded. When he ordered wine, Reznick asked the waiter to bring a small glass for Matt. "I'd like my nephew to have just a taste," he said. After dessert, he ordered coffee for both of them. "The coffee will be served in regular cups, so we'll use the teaspoons," he told Matt. Matt took in the whole scene, as he had done at both Reznick's and Spangler's houses. He even watched what Reznick did with his napkin after dinner and followed suit, crumpling it on the table. Reznick was well pleased. Driving to Reznick's place, Matt spoke out, "Shit, Victor, keep feeding me like that and I won't ever want to eat at home again." "Glad you enjoyed it, Matt." Then he added, "But with clients it's a good idea not to use coarse language, unless the client does first. Me? I like calling a spade a spade. And some guys think `talking dirty' makes them more masculine. Others feel the opposite. Best to let them take the lead." "So much to remember," Matt thought. When they reached his house, Reznick led Matt into the great room and offered Matt a drink. "Since you didn't have one at the hotel," he said. They both removed their coats and ties and sat next to each other on one of the couches. Reznick immediately reached for Matt's crotch. "I love that thing," he murmured. "I could play with it forever." "It's good to be appreciated," Matt grinned. He grabbed Reznick's growing bulge. "Yours is nice too." He leaned back. This time Reznick didn't resist kissing Matt squarely on his lips and forcing his tongue into the boy's partly open mouth. Matt didn't resist, but when he came up for air said, "Nobody's ever done that." "I hope you didn't mind," came the response. "No..., it's just that I read somewhere that whores don't kiss." He paused, then added, "but then, I aint charging you tonight, am I?" Reznick giggled and then undid Matt's trousers. "Tonight I want to feel you up my ass," he said. "I want to feel your ass around my dick," Matt answered. Soon they were naked on the blue Chinese rug that covered most of the floor. Reznick's spit provided the lube and Matt's dick rammed into the older man's anus. "Yeah," he moaned, "fuck my sweet ass. Pound me with that sexy root. Shoot that cream up my tunnel. Ahh, yessss." Matt collapsed against Reznick's butt, his dick all the way down Reznick's chute, pouring his essence deep into the target of both men's desire. Reznick wasted no time before cleaning Matt's dick with his hot lips and licking his sweaty balls with his cat-like tongue. He wanted both to taste the residue of their passion and reenergize Matt's organ. Matt, meanwhile, realizing that Reznick hadn't cum as a result of having his prostate stimulated, set about rectifying that situation with his hungry mouth. He ate ravenously, and was rewarded with spurt after spurt of Reznick's manhood down his waiting throat. Reznick then returned the favor, going down on Matt slowly and tenderly, his expert manipulation of Matt's dick driving the boy to the peak of sexual fulfillment. "Motherfuck!" Matt cried. "You're the best, Victor." "It's good to be appreciated," Reznick laughed, echoing Matt's earlier barb. They lay in each other's arms, savoring the moment. Reznick even frenched Matt again. But he also continued giving Matt the information that could make him the most highly prized call boy west of Manhattan. It was after midnight, when Matt was dropped back at his front door. - - - - - - - - - Feedback is important. Please let me hear from you. macoutman@yahoo.com Copyright 2011 by Macout Mann. All rights reserved.