Date: Fri, 7 Nov 2008 13:48:14 -0800 (PST)
From: Wes Thompson <milkingmachine3@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Welcoming mouth  -  Chapter 8

The Welcoming Mouth

Chapter 8 --- Going to the Garage

	Vic pulled the pickup to a stop to the rear of a brick building and
killed the engine.  His young son Sam, sitting on the passenger side,
looked around with interest, as he'd never been in this part of town.
	The buildings were older in this neighborhood, and the vehicles
parked here and there were also of older models, but it was all clean
enough and clearly not a slum or anything like that.
	Sam pointed at the building in front of them.
	"Is that the place?"
	Vic shook his head.
	"No.  Where we're going is several buildings down the alley.  We
park here and walk the last couple of hundred feet so they can see us
coming.  You drive right up and they'll figure it's nobody good and the
place shuts down."
	The boy frowned, not sure what that all meant.
	"Sam, look at me and listen close."
	His son turned at the serious tone from Vic.
	"The place we're going to is a place where men do sex stuff with
each other.  You'll likely see some of the things you were asking me about
this morning when you sucked me off.  You know, those things that Hat told
you about?"
	Sam nodded.  He felt a sense of growing excitement.
	"Okay, then.  I'm wanting you to enjoy this and get an eyeful and
learn just what Hat had been talking about.  But it's likely going to be
grown men in there and you're just a little boy.  You feel free to talk to
anybody in there, and you can ask anybody anything you want.  But if they
don't want to talk right then or you can tell they think you're a nuisance,
then you back off, understand?"
	The boy nodded vigorously.  He didn't want to make anybody mad, he
just wanted to see the kinds of things...
	"Now, the same sort of thing goes if you find yourself wanting to
actually touch somebody in there or you want them to do anything to you.
You ask permission like with any grownup, the way your Mom and I have have
taught you.  If whoever you're talking to is okay with it, fine, you go
ahead and do what you wanted and have your fun.  If the guy isn't
interested, you back off, got it?"
	Again Sam nodded.
	Vic looked at the boy for a long moment, then his expression
softened a bit.
	"All right.  Son, don't you worry about a thing.  If you're a good
boy and behave like I just told you, things will be fine.  You remember I'm
going to be there the whole time and won't let you out of my sight.  You
don't have to worry about anybody being mean to you, like those punks you
ran into, or anything like that.  Anybody takes it into their head to treat
you bad...well, I'll be right there and I'll deal with them."
	"Okay, Dad."
	"Let's go, then."


	A couple of minutes later they approached the back of what looked
like a large old gas station garage.  There was a young man in jeans and
T-shirt sitting on a chair outside a door to the building.  He had a
push-to-talk phone in one hand.
	"You must be Vic," he called out while the newcomers were still
several dozen feet away.  Vic nodded, and the guy raised the phone to his
mouth and spoke briefly.  As they came up he motioned with his head for
them to go on in.
	Vic opened the door and he and Sam stepped inside, finding
themselves in a small space just big enough for 2-3 people to enter and
still close the door behind them.  Facing them was another door, this one
much heavier and made of metal.  Vic rapped on it with a knuckle and a
moment later it was pulled open by a stocky older man in slacks and a
Hawaiian shirt who grinned when he saw Vic.
	"Well!  Usually you can hear sirens when you're around!  Howya
doing, Vic?"
	"Hi, Charlie," Vic said as they shook hands, "Your Mom posted your
bail again, I see."
	The man stepped back to let them in.  Vic and Sam entered the
larger space, Sam gawking around while Vic took in their surroundings in a
more appraising manner.
	It had been an old, cinder-block style garage at one point, all
right.  Some safety-minded fellow with fair carpentry skills had made low
wooden platforms to cover the pair of old car hoists.  Each of those
platforms had a large bed on them.  All around the perimeter of the garage
was a hodgepodge of furniture...cushioned chairs, a couple of single beds,
a couple of futons, a massage table, a cot, an angled weight bench from
some gym, even a couple of big metal worktables from the original garage,
though their vises had been removed so as to end with a totally smooth
surface.
	In the far corner opposite from where Vic and Sam stood, the
original walls around the bathroom had been taken away, and now the urinal
and doorless toilet stall were open to general view.
	For all its age, though, the garage was very clean.  Even ancient
oil spills had been steamed out of the floor.  Light was provided by
overhead lights as well opagued-glass windows which let in ambient light
but which obscured things for anyone trying to see out or in.
	But what caught the eye of young Sam was the presence of a
half-dozen men in the garage.  They were in various states of undress,
having tossed discarded clothing on one of the work tables.  Four of the
men were standing in a group, watching two others.
	Of the watchers, two were naked and the the other two were just in
socks and their shirts.  All four were fondling their cocks, idly jerking
off at the show being provided.  The state of their dicks varied from hard
to soft, but they all had glistening tips.
	Sam stared at the sight for a moment, fascinated.
	But after only a few moments, his gaze also focussed on two other
men.  They were both only in their socks.  One was in big cushioned chair
on the far wall, the chair facing towards where Vic, Sam, and Charlie were
standing.  His legs were spread wide, his arms loose and on the armrest,
his head thrown back while he moaned.
	In front of him, standing astride his thighs, another man was bent
all the way over from his waist, his own hands also on the armrests.  His
head was down in the other man's lap, his mouth around the man's cock,
sucking it.
	It was terrifically exciting to Sam, whose vantage point was
looking at the cocksucker's bare behind, with his balls and dick hanging
down.  Yet the boy was able to look through the vee of those legs and see
the slick cockshaft of the sitting man alternatively disappearing and
reappearing from the mouth moving on it.
	Even as Sam watched, the sitting man moaned louder and louder.  Sam
was happily surprised as the watching men hooted and called out like they
were at a ball game.
	"Oh, yeah, here we go!"
	"Suck, Rodney, suck!"
	"Hey, Mike, he's only been sucking you for ten minues...ain't you
got no stamina?"  The men laughed raucously and nudged each other.
	Mike rolled his eyes at them with the pain-like face of growing
imminent release, then abruptly put his hands on either side of the face
milking his rigid penis.  With a really loud groan, his hips lifted off the
chair and he pushed his cock deeper into Rodney's face.  He grunted
repeatedly, his pelvis twitching in sharp little movements, and Sam knew he
was shooting a load of cum into the other man's mouth.
	The boy's eyes were wide open with entrancement.  Through the legs
of Rodney, he could see the man's throat working as he swallowed the spurts
of cum erupting from the cock in his mouth.  Mike kept grunting and
unloading cum into Rodney for several moments.  But then the man abruptly
sagged back down into the chair.  He panted a few times, then patted the
side of Rodney's face, saying,
	"Oh, man.  Rod, old buddy, that was a good suck.  Always a pleasure
to provide you with lunch." He grinned over at the other men, one who
actually clapped his hands.
	"Attaway, Rodney!  Another happy cock served!"
	Sam turned and beamed up at Vic.
	"Some fun, huh, Dad?"
	Vic nodded mildly, a small smile lifting the corners of his mouth.
	"Yes, son.  Sex is fun.  You'll think it even more so once you
start getting off."
	"That's for dang sure," Charlie said, standing alongside Sam's
father.
	Sam returned his attention to the men who'd watched the blowjob.
One of them, one with only his socks still on, he couldn't keeping from
staring at.  The man was average height, but was heavy set without being
either a fatty orlooking like a gym rat.  His striking aspect was he was
swarthy and hairier than Vic, his skin dark but not as much as a black man.
His cock drew Sam's eyes.  It was heavy-looking, fleshy, and the man had
the biggest ball sack that Sam, in his brief experience, had ever seen.
Right now, the man's dick was tumescent, and even as Sam watched, a large,
wet drop of precum drooled out of the cock slit and dripped to the floor,
leaving a momentary glistening string linking it and the cock it had came
from.
	Without thinking, Sam licked his lips.
	Vic noticed Sam's attention and said to Charlie quietly,
	"Who's the dark guy, Charlie?  I don't know him.  He an arab, or
something?"
	"Fourdoor?  Nah, he's Hungarian or something like that." Charlie
replied, "You'll figure that once you hear how he talks.  He's been around
for a couple of months now.  And...you gotta see the guy unload sometime,
Vic.  Those balls of his work overtime, no lie.  I never seen the like, and
I've seen a lot, you know?"
	"Yeah, you have.  Well, I'd like to see that, alright.  Looks like
he's got a heckuva pair under that dick of his.  But,
Charlie...'Fourdoor'?"
	Charlie laughed.
	"I know.  His real name is Feodor, or something like that.  It got
fumbled enough that we all just started calling him Foordoor.  He's okay
with it."
	The object of their discussion was now standing with his hands
behind his head.  One of the other men was pressed up against him from
behind and had reached around to slowly masturbate Fourdoor.  The slit of
the heavy, dark-skinned penis oozed continually and long drips fell to the
floor every once in a while.
	Another man laid down on the floor, his head towards the other two,
and positioned himself so the drips fell into his mouth.  He moaned softly,
looking at Foordoor's crotch from below.  Enjoying the perspective of the
precum forming into a drop, then dropping through his line of vision and
hitting his tongue or the back of his throat with a light pat, he reached
down and started rapidly jerking on his stiffening cock.  He was so aroused
by what he was doing, in less than a minute his body went rigid, and with a
whimpering cry, his back arched and his erect penis shot rope after rope of
cum through the air over his chest and across his face.
	Foordoor, looking down at the man shooting off over himself,
laughed out loud.
	Sam, wide-mouthed with delight, stared up at his Dad, then back at
scene.


		THE END - The Welcoming Mouth, Chapter 8



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