Date: Thu, 11 May 2006 08:41:03 -0700 (PDT)
From: Aihu Fist <aihufist@yahoo.com>
Subject: Kyle, the closet queen from Miami 2

This story is utterly fictitious and nothing of its content may either
partly or entirely be reproduced without the explicit consent of the author
and is therefor protected by copyright from the date of its appearance on
Nifty.org.



Starting all over.



Next morning Kyle got out of his bed, naked. He seemed lost and didn't know
what do first.

-What is this ugly thing here?

I jerked my head from under my sheets and looked at him and down at his
feet.

-Oh, that? That's your butt hair I shaved off when you were too stoned and
tripping.

His hands leapt to his ass.

-You really did that, you fuck?

-Yep, I hate hairy asses.

He caressed himself there for a bit and said:

-You are right, it feels much better. Maybe I should shave my balls and
chest as well.

-And your armpits, Kyle, because they smell so bad.

-I use musk deodorant, Robin.

Kyle had iq and eq of a fourteen year old. He was so dependent on me for
everything. Till late in the morning he'd sit up and fire questions at me
about Peru, Indians, mysticism in which I was involved for the last two
years. He knew nothing of his own land the USA and even less of his state
Florida. He hated his parents and didn't want to go back there ever
again. When he got into his grass he drifted away so fast and didn't hear
what I said. I had to repeat the things over and over. I had his ass many a
times and had gotten used to my breath in his mouth. The space he needed
for himself had dissolved. But somehow I sensed he held secrets for me. My
intuition told me to be careful with him. It really felt like being a dad
with him, on the other hand I rather was his friend. I allowed him to use
anything I had, my digital camera, my laptop, and my disc man. He was so
curious about anything I had. Sometimes, though it got on my nerves.

-Robin?

-Yes, Kyle?

-When can I pound your ass?

-You can't Kyle, it was a joke. I never allowed anyone to get into my
asshole and not even you will get that opportunity. You use all my things,
but this is something you will never get to use.

-You are a cheater, Robin. A word is a word.

- Why don't you go and so some work on internet. Sell something. You know
we are both running out of money and neither of us is ever going to go
home. I am broke and you ain't far from it.

-Robin, I hate to tell you this, but they closed down my bank account and
my eBay account too. I am barred from doing business on the net.

-You must be joking!

-No, I am not, really. But the worst news has yet to come.

Now I sat straight up in my bed, pricked up my ears and said:

-What else?

-You better brace yourself for this. I, err, yesterday I sat with some
girls at the table in a Chinese restaurant and had my bag next to me during
the meal, but when I wanted to pay I couldn't find the bag. Your laptop and
digital camera sat in it. It's gone Robin, all of it.

-You idiot, fuck! God, I cannot believe this, I hate this country full of
fucking thieves.

This was all I had; I could have sold it if I ran out of money...now
what. It spoiled our relationship. I was so tense and nervous, I know he
didn't do on purpose, but why all of it had gone beat me? I numbed my brain
to find a solution. Kyle felt really guilty but couldn't compensate me in
any way. There was no way that we gringos could find a way out or find a
job. I wasn't going to teach English for a fucking dollar an hour. I looked
at Kyle that night when he told me that he had left ten dollars. We
couldn't even pay the hostel. I had five dollars less, just enough for one
day food. As he undressed in front of me, ready to sneak into his bed,
thinking that I was asleep, I switched on the light and said:

-Kyle.  - Startled to hear my voice, he replied in a very uninterested
manner.

-Yeah...

-Turn around.

-What for?

-What are you hiding for me so deep in your heart?

-What do you mean?

-I sense something in you, that won't leave me. Tell me, about Miami. How
many men have you sucked off there?

-Don't know, it was way back when I was only sixteen, when I had run away
from home.

-How many Kyle? I want the truth.

Kyle blushed and his lips started to tremble.

-I, I, I, loads of times I guess.

-For how long did you do that thing?

-Gee, are you a cop or something, it is none of your business, Robin. Leave
me alone.

-No, I won't, how could I. You got me in this mess. You have to get me out
of this.

-What are you saying?

-Well you don't give a damn don't you that I have lost my camera and laptop
worth a two-thousand dollar. All my files were on it, months of hard work
and you just shrug your shoulders and go to bed.

-How many years did you work in Miami, whore boy?

Kyle froze when he heard that word.

-Look I was not a whore boy, I, I got put up in a fashion designers home,
but in return I had to suck of all his friends who came over. When they got
tired of me he kicked me out. I was on the streets and in the parks.

-Ok, let's use a euphemism...you were a gigolo for quite some time, yes?

-Yes.

-And you only sucked cock?

Kyle said nothing back. He put his leg on the bed, ready to crawl in.

-You are not going to sleep, Kyle. Turn around, I said and look at me. Did
or did you not get fucked up the ass?

-I told you, I never did.

-Hard to believe, Kyle. Ok, you were tight when I screwed you the first
night, but it didn't hurt; you didn't ask me to stop because you felt pain.

-Ok, I admit, someone fucked me once.

-Once?

I grabbed him by his cock and pulled him over.

-Once Kyle? And I squeezed his dick real hard.

-Ouch, Ok, yes then, many times.

-At last I get the truth out of your lying mouth.

 Now listen up, Kyle. I know how to get us out of this misery.

-How Robin?

-Gee, you are so naive, I cannot believe this. What you think I have in
mind for you after all this interrogation?

-Don't know, you tell me.

-I will. I will pimp you here in Cuzco. I am sure lots of Peruvians who
love to fuck the ladies up the arse wouldn't mind to fuck a cute gringo up
his alley.

-You must be joking, Robin. They have no money for this. In Miami I was
earning...errr, sorry.

-No no, go on, you were earning money In Miami, huh?

-Yes, as a fashion model...

-Who got fucked by the designers backstage?

Kyle said no more. It was silent for a minute and then I said:

Tomorrow I put an add in El Diario newspaper: Gringito, Jewish gringo boy
from USA, good looking, fair complexion, curly hair, eighteen years old, is
an experienced young man in massaging men of all ages, rich or poor. Can
receive home or on location. Price: Five soles (1, 5 $) per hour.

-Five soles? You must be kidding.

-As you said, Kyle, this is a poor country, slowly but surely I get my
money back for my stolen goods.

-This could take a year.

-Depends how many men a day you can work off, Kyle.

Kyle sighed, there was nothing he could do, he couldn't run a way without
paying the room, he even had no money for a bus ticket had he wanted to run
away from me.

-Now, that's all I have to say, goodnight Kyle.

-Goodnight Robin.


I didn't see Kyle for the whole day, I figured he had run away, but his
baggage was still standing next to his bed. My cellular phone rang.

-Pronto, I said.

-Senor Gringito?

-Yes, who is talking?

-Quiero hablar con Gringito (I want to talk to Gringito)

-Ya hablas con el. (you are talking to him).

The conversation was in Spanish, another advantage for me because Kyle had
not a clue about the language. Just as I wanted to give the man the
information, Kyle walked in.

-I gestured him to come and sit next to me.

-It's for you.

-Kyle shot an angry look at me.

-Fuck you, he said.

-Listen up Kyle. I said with my hand over the phone. If you don't do this
job I will denounce you at the cops as the thief of my laptop, you hear.

-Whaat?

-Yes, exactly that. Now sit down and listen.

-Yes senor, I like to be fucked, no problem. Yes I suck cock too. The
details we will discuss at your room senor. Avenida del Sol, si senor, no
problema.

I hung up on the customer and explained Kyle what he wanted.

-How old is he?

-I didn't ask.

-His voice was young or old.

-I don't know, Kyle. Just let us get the fuck out of here and take a
trishaw to the avenida del sol. Have you changed underwear?

-No.

-Great, the guy wants you to come in smelly briefs. You have condoms?

-In my wallet.

-Good. You look perfect, clean shaven and a good smell.

We sped for two soles all the way to the customer's apartment. As most
houses in Cuzco were very old with creaking stairways. The mansion we
walked into wasn't any different. We rang the doorbell once, twice and then
had to bang the door. A man in his sixties opened up.

-Hola (hi) senor, I said.

-Hola, he replied.

I looked into baggy watery eyes and a mouth with a cigar.

-Who are you?

-I am gringito's manager.

-Ah, si, Gringito, come in.

I pulled Gringito by the sleeve and dragged him into the living room
following the old man.

-Sit down, Gringito.

He beckoned from a couch. I sat on a chair.

-He is gorgeous; the man said scanning Kyle's face.

-What does he say?

-That you are a cute boy.

-Kyle liked that and smiled politely at the man next to him.

-So, when can he start?

-Right away, senor.

-And what about you senor?

-I will wait here for him.

-Why?

-Well he is very fragile and doesn't speak Spanish. He would lose his way
home.  -I see.  -Before we go to the other room, I want to see him and what
he has in store for me. Do you mind?

-Absolutely not, senor, the customer is king.

-The old man put his hand on Kyle's thigh and looked him into the eyes.

Get up he gestured with his hand.  Kyle got up and the old man started
tugging at Kyle's belt. The fly followed.

Again he gestured to have the pants come down. Kyle did so while looking
meanly at me. I shot back with a radiant evil smile.

The Calvin briefs had yellow stains on a bulging hidden cock.

-Calcetin tambien (briefs too), the old man urged Kyle.

Kyle's cock stood half mast, not too excited in pleasing this man.

-Hermoso, que carajo hermoso (gorgeous, what a gorgeous dick), he hoarsely
whispered and stroked the wagging rod.

He had a look at Kyle's behind and smacked his lips.

-Perfecto, ya vamos (perfect, move it).

Kyle stepped out of his jeans and briefs and followed the man like a puppy.
The heavy wooden door slammed in the lock. I followed suit and got on my
knees looking through the key hole.

The old man's bed was nicely prepared, he dimmed the lights, but I had
enough light on the bed from the lamps on the night table.

Kyle received help from the old men to pull his shirt over his head.

Soon both lay together stroking and cuddling. Kyle said nothing except 'si'
or 'no'.

Little by little the bed started squeaking and rocking. I saw Kyle get up
and get his mouth over a fat cock that looked more like turd than a male
genital. The grey pubic hair around the base occasionally entered Kyle's
mouth.

-Si, amigo, muy bien, the old bastard moaned.

The old hips danced against Kyle's lips, the sheets waved like foam on the
sea.

Ok, I heard the old man say, por atras (from behind).

Kyle got turned like a crepe suzette on his tummy; the man was still
forceful for his age.  I saw him probing Kyle's white ass. His hands dove
in his crack, his fingers dug deep and Kyle said nothing. Actually he got a
lusty grin over his lips. The Spanish that was spoken went in one ear and
left the other. He had not a clue how the old man insulted him.

-Te voy joder, carajo de puto, de frente y por atras. (I will screw you
from the front and from the back you, cocksucker.

His belly was covered with hair like a gorilla, his stubble beard scraped
over Kyle's fancy boy slit. Kyle began to move his hips up and down and his
legs spread simultaneously. The old man had his aged tool ready. God, he
didn't use a condom, what if the guy had aids? Ah, no, not this old one.
He grabbed Kyle's hips and pulled them higher so that Kyle's tummy hung
forty-five degrees over the bed. IN he went, swishing his rod in all
positions, plumbing his crack like it had no name. Kyle sighed at last and
I heard him begging: more, more. He pushed his butt back.

-¿Bueno, puto, bueno, te gusta? (good, whore, you like it?)

The man came too soon. Ejaculacion Preacox, as they call it in Latin. I
reckoned the man used Viagra, but who knows? Kyle changed position, now the
old man lay on his back and Kyle was aiming at the oldest anus he'd ever
plugged. Kyle was proud to show off his dick, I could see it. A Jewish cut
cock would plough the catholic gateway of sin. But neither of them cared
what they were. A sinful evening it was and both enjoyed it. Kyle sped up
the tempo, bugging the wrinkled anus.

-Si, si, siiiiiiiiii, the man cried. Mas, rapido (faster).

The picture of Christ hung neatly over the bed. Christ witnessed the sodomy
scene. I wondered what he'd say about them. Go and sin no more? The loins
were red with every clash of the bodies until finally Kyle reached his
climax too. He had nothing to hold back and with the last push he hurled
his wantonest cry into the air.

-Huuuuuuuuuuuuuuuughhghghghghhgghhhhhh!!!!!!

He pulled out of the ghastly ass, got his clothes fast over his body and
moved to the door. I ran back to the chair, grabbed a magazine and
pretended not to have spied on them.


-A very good stud, senor, the old man said, while struggling with zipping
up his own fly.

-Five soles? Here you are. Tomorrow you come again, ok?

Sure, senor, Gringito will come as many times as you like.

-Then tomorrow at seven in the night.

-Deal, adios.

I shook hands and we left.

-You earned your first five soles, Kyle, great isn't it?

Kyle remained mute as ever.

-Let's have a hearty meal at the Chinese, I said, and celebrate.



Like it? Write me at Aihufist@yahoo.com And read my other stories at
Prolific authors.