Date: Thu, 27 Aug 2009 18:08:24 -0400
From: Cole Angicent <colebph@gmail.com>
Subject: Unintended Consequences Part 3

Chris gave the bulge in his hand a single, tentative rub, before the
higher functions of his brain sent out waves of alarm bells. He pulled
his hand away from the boy's genitals as though they were a hot plate
that had just scalded him. "You need to leave now," he stated, his
voice so chilled and resolute that Kyle almost inherently complied.

But he hadn't come all this way for nothing. "C'mon... I know you want to..."

Chris raised an eyebrow, peering at this boy as though he were truly
seeing him for the first time. "Well you're obviously not wearing a
wire," he joked, tapping the youth's bare chest. He started to pace
around the room, thinking out loud. "And somehow I don't think even
the cops would be low enough to send a real kid in for a police setup,
certainly not let one hang out in here long enough to start stripping
for me. They could've bust in /before/ you started stripping and had
all the evidence they'd need."

"I'm not a cop," Kyle confirmed tersely, a pout forming on his face as
his half-erect penis began returning to it's flaccid state, the small
tent in his underwear disappearing. "You can't seriously tell me that
even /you/ don't find me attractive."

Chris scoffed. "/Even/ me. Thanks, kid. Flattering." He moved over to
the end table and grabbed the kid's shirt. "Well, I'm sure when you
were talking this over with your buddies at school this morning it
sounded like the best prank ever, but all it really i--"

"C'moooon," Kyle interrupted, closing the distance to Chris again.
"Don't you think I'm hot?"

The boylover sighed, placing his hands tenderly on the boy's bare
shoulders. "You're a very attractive boy," he admitted reassuringly.
"But what makes you think I'd mess around with you anyway?"

"Didn't you mess around with a boy before?" Kyle asked, pointing
towards the computer. "Isn't that how you wound up on the internet?"

"On the registry, you mean."

Kyle nodded.

Chris spared a thought to Tom's story, looking at the underwear-clad
kid in front of him. "You're very lucky you picked me, y'know. Someone
else might've hurt you."

"Puh-lease, I was careful," Kyle retorted. "C'mon, all I want's a blowjob, man."

Chris couldn't help it; he laughed. "Oh, is /that/ all?" His laughter,
of course, was not about insulting Kyle but about how he couldn't
believe that Kyle would think such an intimate, precious act could be
requested as casually as asking a buddy to borrow five dollars to eat
dinner.

But Kyle hardened at that laughter, all semblance of pleasantry gone
from his voice as he insisted, "You are /going/ to give me a blowjob,
mister. I wanted to make it nice for you, but if all you can do is
laugh..."

"You can't make me blow you, kid," Chris replied.

"Kyle," the boy rebuked angrily. "My name is Kyle."

Chris took his left hand off the boy's shoulder, squeezing his right
slightly. "Kid," he remarked, "I really don't know why you'd think you
can just come demand a blowjob from a sex offender. What do you think,
we're all just aching to get in your pants?"

"Kinda the way the school tells it," Kyle admitted. "But it doesn't
really matter whether you want to or not, you'll do it."

"Alright, I'll bite," Chris said, sitting down. "How exactly are you
going to /make/ me do this for you?"

Kyle smirked. "It's really simple, mister. If you don't do it... I'll
tell the cops that you did."

-------------------------------------------------
{{Eleven years earlier....}}

"Ungh... ungh, keep going, yeah.... faster...."

Darwin's right hand clutched Chris' shoulder tightly, squeezing the
fabric of the shirt as his breathing quickened, his hips began pumping
forward of their own volition and the beads of sweat on his forehead
dripped down the left side, drenching the pillow under his head. He
could still taste the frosting from his birthday cake on the tip of
his tongue, which now seemed to have a mind of it's own, wanting to
escape from his mouth as he panted and groaned.

His left hand idly found a patch of Chris' hair, ruffling through it
as best he could while the head it was attached to was bobbing up and
down. He could feel the man's tongue pressing firmly against the
underside of his cock, an undertow of ecstacy practically trying to
rip the skin away from his body. He was... how had Chris put it last
week? Oh yes, "Like the straw of a really good chocolate shake, where
you have to really work to get that thick juicy sweet reward to squirt
out into your mouth." He had teased his older friend by pointing out
that he was a mere kid-sized vanilla, and that /chocolate/ shakes
tended to have much bigger straws, which had set the both of them
laughing hysterically in the middle of the Steak 'N" Shake restaurant
that they were sitting in. Of course, they were sitting in the far
corner, minimizing the chance of being overheard, and still he had to
cast glances this way and that, occasionally, to make sure no one was
getting the wrong ideas about them (or, as truth would have it, the
right ideas). But such was just the price they had to pay for the
relationship they had in this world, and Darwin rarely considered the
cost to be too high. No, for his sweet, beautiful Chris, he would have
paid quite a bit more.

"OHHHHHHHH," he moaned, the throes of his orgasm bringing him to that
blissful point beyond thought, to that moment where his entire world
consisted only of the top inch or so of his young penis, the inch
which was launching forth again and again and again, long after it had
emptied what little semen his hairless, preteen balls had to offer,
bursting forth like a madman continuing to pull the trigger on an
empty gun. Not so long ago, when he'd gotten his first few blowjobs
from his adult lover, the gun had been completely empty, and he
grinned as his orgasm subsided, remembering fondly the crescendo of
the fat lady at his first trip to the opera, the trip that had been
his reward on the day that he'd spilled that first precious seed into
his lover's eagerly waiting mouth.

Sensing that the boy was spent, Chris pulled his lips away from the
softening organ of his desire, giving the small purple helmet a ginger
lick and a kiss before pulling himself up to Darwin's eye level,
licking the preteen's neck all the way up to the ear and then nibbling
on the earlobe. True to form, Darwin squealed with delight, his
playful giggles infectious.

Darwin clutched his lover tightly and the two of them calmed down,
settling into a cuddle.

"Happy birthday," Chris said, for probably the ninth time that night,
and was rewarded with a peck on the lips.

"Thanks," Darwin replied. He became suddenly somber, then, glancing
into Chris' dark brown eyes and staring with a certain vulnerable
intensity as it occured to him, not for the first time, just how much
he needed this man in his life.

Chris, self-conscious as he was, could be counted on to misinterpret
it. "You seem sad," he said, his tone suddenly much less playful lover
and much more concerned parent. "Did you not... I mean, you don't
regret what we did?"

Darwin sighed. If there was anything he regretted about his
relationship with Chris, it was consistently having this same
conversation. He could almost mouth the next words, the words he knew
were coming, the words he must've heard five hundred times in the last
five months.

"You know you don't have to do this kinda stuff, right?" Chris pushed
back a lock of Darwin's dirty blonde hair and ran his finger gently
along the boy's smooth cheek. "You know if we stopped having sex
tonight, never did it again, that I'd still love you and I'd always be
here for you, right?"

Usually Darwin could take the question in stride, chalk it up to
society and his lover's insecurity. But today was his twelfth
birthday, and damned if he wasn't going to nip this thing in the bud
once and for all. "Y'know, you never really think about how much it
hurts when you ask me that."

The statement took Chris aback. "Hurts?" he asked, sitting up in the bed.

"Yeah, hurts," Darwin replied, sitting up as well. "I mean, the /real/
question is, do you know that YOU don't have to do this stuff." He
grabbed Chris' cheeks in his hands. "Don't you feel it, when we're
together? When we're touching and kissing and licking, don't you
feel..." He lowered his eyes, searching for the right word. "I don't
know, feel... connected?"

"I feel more than connected, Darwin," Chris declared. "I feel complete."

Darwin smirked. He liked that word better. But his voice still carried
an edge of tension. "And don't you think I feel that way too?"

Chris offered a meek smile. "I hope you do."

"And don't you think it maybe cheapens the moment when you keep asking
whether I want to stop?" Darwin asked. "I mean, you say we're equal.
You say I have the right to make this choice. And then every time I
make it, you go and treat me like... well, like some kid you think
you're taking advantage of." He leaned in close, so that their
foreheads were touching. "Well you're NOT, okay?  You say you don't
care if we never have sex, well let me tell you something, I DO care."

Chris' eyebrow shot up. "So what are you saying?" he asked, a little
mirth in his voice. "That you'd dump me if I stopped putting out?"

A playful shove from Darwin knocked Chris back against the headboard,
and the boy decided that a long, slow french kiss was in order before
answering the question. But answer it he finally did. "Of course not.
If you couldn't have sex, or didn't want to or whatever, we'd deal
with it. I love you, I'd rather have sexless you than no you."

"Awwwww," Chris mewled, metaphorically melting in the boy's embrace.

"But I'd /rather/ have the version of you that makes me feel
complete," Darwin asserted. "And that's why it hurts when you ask that
question like this is just something you could take or leave,
understand? And I'd appreciate it if you'd stop trying to push me away
from that because you feel like some kinda perv, alright?"

Chris decided to take a page from Darwin's book, and answer with
another long, slow french kiss. "You're right, sweetheart. I'll never
doubt us again." And he knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that he'd
never want to hold another boy like this ever again.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

"You'll... what?" Chris asked, a sort of numbness in his voice as he
stared at the angry half-naked redhead in front of him.

It would be unfair not to acknowledge that Kyle's conscience was
nagging him as he proceeded, taking notice of the hurt that seemed to
play out on the man's face. But that conscience was competing with a
voice fueled by unbridled lust and drive, and it was the more base
Kyle that was winning out. "You heard me, I'll tell the cops. I'll run
out of here just like this, in my underwear, and I'll tell the nearest
grownup about how you lured me in here from the park and told me you
had Wii games you wanted to play with me and locked the door and
started ripping my clothes off."

It would be equally unfair to say that Chris didn't feel a surge of
sympathy for this boy's plight, and the depths of loneliness and
despair that had to bring him here to seek out this release. But such
notions were also pushed aside, in favor of indignation and anger. He
was, after all, being raped - as surely as if the boy were holding a
gun at him while making such demands. Because just as surely, his
threat, if carried out, would have permanent repurcussions. And so he
clung to the one hope that someone threatened by a gun would have, the
appeal that it might be naught but a huge bluff. "You wouldn't," he
said. "Your reputation..."

Kyle laughed. "You kidding? The kid who heroically escaped from the
child molester? My parents'll be buying me things for months." Kyle
stepped closer. "But most importantly, Chris, two months from now,
when I'm standing in some other guy's living room looking to get off,
and he says, 'You wouldn't'? I can hold up newspaper clippings of your
story. And he'll see proof that I would."

Chris sighed, bringing his hand to his head. The thought that Kyle
would try again, and possibly get someone more violent, was the
clincher, or at least the lie he could tell himself to justify
surrender. To give up solely to save himself from prison was a
catharsis, a pill so hard to swallow that he would likely have gone
catatonic from paralysis in the attempt to make the decision. But to
protect the boy, yes, that he could do, and still look at himself in
the mirror tomorrow. Mostly.

"Fine," he murmured, so quietly that the word was unintelligible.

"What was that?" Kyle asked snidely.

Chris threw his hands up. "Fine, I said. You win. You obviously have
me over a barrel." A barrel that could easily cost him money and
whatever vestige of autonomy he had, the man realized, at least until
he could find a way to move. Which would take a very long time. When
he thought about how thoroughly he was wrapped around this uncaring
juvenile finger... well, he'd count himself lucky if a blowjob was all
he really had to give up.

The two of them stared at each other awkwardly for several seconds.

"Well?" Chris finally asked.

Kyle seemed finally at a loss, confused. He had spent all of his time
planning how to get the man to agree to this, and then... well, then
he'd just sort of assumed the man would take over, greedily swallowing
his cock like the proverbial early bird going after it's first worm.
This passive, coersive acquiescence simply wasn't in the script.

"Aren't you going to take off your underwear?" Chris asked, looking
expectantly at his preteen taskmaster.

"Right," Kyle acknowledged, looping his thumbs around the waistline of
his Hanes. He hesitated for a moment; should he pull them off swiftly,
or showboat it? Which would be more appealing to his partner? Probably
neither, since his partner wasn't willing. Strangely, he found that
that mattered somewhat, that his conscience was getting a little
louder.

But still not loud enough to stop him. If Chris wouldn't play along
willingly, then he would simply have to be made to do it proper. "No,
I think you should pull them down, actually. Yes, you do it."

Chris sighed, getting up and kneeling before the young boy. It was a
shame - under different circumstances, the boy was perhaps appealing
enough to have won him over, given enough time. He did, after all,
have two qualities very reminiscent of the man's former lover -
extreme intelligence and extreme physical allure. But there was where
the resemblence ended, and it was with trepidation that he remembered
how many times he'd sworn to Darwin that he would never find himself
in this exact position with another boy. Of course, he had meant he
wouldn't /voluntarily/ wind up in said position, and he was quite sure
that Darwin, were he ever to become aware of the events of the
evening, would understand the distinction. But still, now that the
deed was somewhat literally in front of him, it still felt like a form
of betrayal.

"I'm sorry, Darwin," Chris whispered, looping his own thumbs around
the boy's waistband and slowly bringing the Hanes underwear down to
the boy's ankles. Out sprang a penis that, while remarkable in it's
own right, was so much unlike Darwin's as to add insult to injury. For
one, it was uncircumcised, with the foreskin so long that even at full
erection, barely more than the piss slit of Kyle's cockhead was
uncovered, whereas Darwin's had been ironically circumcised just a few
weeks before they had met as the result of an infection. At roughly
four inches, it was perhaps a few millimeters shorter than Darwin's
had been at the end, although certainly bigger than the first time
Chris had seen it. It stood proudly above a small, completely hairless
nut sack, making Chris sigh as he wistfully remembered the three light
blond hairs that had for so long been Darwin's only pubes, curled
chaotically from the underside of his balls towards the gap where they
met his right thigh. He remembered how much fun it had been to cup
Darwin's balls in his hand and then playfully stroke those three
hairs, one of the few selfish pleasures that admittedly didn't seem to
do much for Darwin, sexually, but he often found himself doing for
hours while they made out naked on his bed.

"Who's Darwin?" Kyle asked, snapping Chris out of his reverie.

Chris shrugged. "My ex," he explained somberly. "The boy... well, the
boy I did this to." And without further comment, he took hold of
Kyle's hard member and angled it downward, guiding it towards his open
mouth and then leaning forward to swallow it whole.

With Darwin, of course, there would have been foreplay... rubbing of
the chest, teasing of the nipples, an inordinate amount of licking
around the young boy's genitals, so much so that Darwin would
occasionally beg Chris to get to the point, to give him the release he
so craved. But with Kyle, he merely wanted to get it over with, and so
his sucking motion was so bland and dispassionate in it's rythym that
even Kyle, who had never before felt such sensation, could sense that
it wasn't all it should be.

Of course, that didn't mean it wasn't enough. "OH YES," Kyle groaned,
grabbing the back of Chris' head instinctively and doing little Kegels
motions with his cock, smacking the tip against the roof of his
suck-toy's mouth. "Mmmm, that feels great."

Chris pulled Kyle's erection out of his mouth long enough to snap,
"Keep it down, I can't finish you off if you get me arrested," before
going back to work on the middle schooler's aching knob.

Of course, curiousity and instinct are strong forces, and Chris did
eventually decide that if he was stuck doing the deed, he might as
well try to get some small pleasure from it. He found that if he
wiggled his tongue just under Kyle's cock, he could slide a little bit
more of the head out of it's fleshy covering, which he had to admit
tasted somehow more silky and smooth than a circumcised penis. Kyle
had at least done him the favor of washing himself thoroughly there
that morning, so he wasn't being revulsed by that strange cheesy stuff
people talked about. He also found that there was something
particularly enjoyable about running his tongue in a semicircle at the
very base of kyle's beanstalk, just along the underside. It made his
tongue roll in a pleasant kind of way, and Kyle seemed to enjoy
whatever sensation it brought him because he seemed to push harder
whenever it was done. Still, even these pleasures were somewhat
clinical, almost scientific in nature, and while it was giving Kyle a
good feeling, it was reaching a plateau, not approaching that
ever-blissful edge.

"C'mon," Kyle complained, humping the man's throat. "Pretend I'm Darwin."

As it turned out, those were the right words to say, because although
the cock in his mouth felt unfamiliar, the rest of Kyle's body was
certainly closer to Darwin's feel than Chris could ever have hoped to
experience in the last ten years. And so closing his eyes, he let his
hands begin to roam along the back of his partner's legs, pause a
moment to squeeze his bare asscheeks, and then travel further upward
towards the small of his back before moving downward and repeating the
whole process, each time sucking with just a bit more finesse,
changing up the rythym, bobbing his mouth up and down on the child's
aching boyhood with every pass.

THIS was what it was supposed to be, Kyle knew. This was the feeling
he was looking for. "Ungh... ugh, yeah... yeah, that's it...
faster..." he cried out, only Chris was so lost in the fantasy that he
heard it in Darwin's voice, which only served to make him work harder.

"I'm almost... I think I'm.... uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,"
Kyle gasped, jerking his hips over and over and over as he orgasmed in
the man's hungry mouth. Surprisingly to Chris, the orgasm was dry, and
it was that realization that took him out of the fantasy and reminded
him that the wilting spike in his mouth was a selfish tormentor, not
the boy he'd been dreaming about every night for the last ten years.
With a sigh, he slid his mouth slowly off of the boy's penis, leaning
back against the seat of the couch.

"Hope you're satisfied," the man murmured contemptibly, wiping his mouth.

Later, the words would hurt. Later, the boy would feel guilty. But at
that moment, nothing could ruin the pure triumph, the pure elation
that washed over him as he plopped his naked ass down on the couch.
"Oh yeah. That was what I needed."