I was in the hotel lobby waiting for the bellboys to bring in my rather formidable amount of luggage when I heard the voices raised. I looked to the check-in counter to see a man and woman with two small children arguing with the clerk. With nothing better to do at that moment, I drifted closer to listen.
"A second room? But that's preposterous!" the man was saying. "Our children are all young, having this rule makes absolutely no sense. My wife and I can share one bed and the children the other."
"I am so sorry, sir, but I have no authority to offer a variance on this matter." the clerk said. "The rules allow a maximum of two adults and two children in a regular room. You will have to get a second room, I can offer you a small single for a rate of sixty-seven dollars per night."
"For three fucking nights?" the man replied. "My youngest daughter is a baby, for crying out loud. The children are three and six, they can all share the one bed and my wife and I...."
"I am sorry, sir."
"Jesus." the man wiped his face. "How about a larger room, do you offer anything meant for more than four people?"
"We have a suite, but that's a full sitting room and two bedrooms, and it costs four hundred and eighty dollars a night."
"We can't pay that!" the man was scandalized.
The clerk continued. "And none of our suites are available at this time anyhow. I am so sorry, sir."
The man wiped his face. "Four days." he mourned to his wife. "Four days at sixty-seven dollars a day just to give your son his own room on this trip. That's going to wipe out our trip to Weaverworld on Friday." Today was Thursday, funny how he didn't say "tomorrow."
"Awww, no!" the boy mourned and I focused in on him. Shit the boy was cute as a button and twice as adorable. The Renaissance artists must have found children models like this one for their renditions of cherubs in their paintings. Sable locks of hair with highlights, adorable dimpled cheeks, sparkling blue eyes. He paired this adorability with a sort of solemn integrity, for he rallied, "I guess we have to do it, though." he said. "We can skip Weaverworld this time, can't we, Sally?"
The girl was crying. "I want to see Wally Weaver the Beaver!" she mourned. "You promised me, you promised!" she accused the dad.
"Come on, Sally." the boy replied. "It's not Dad's fault...."
I'd had enough. "Maybe I can help." I said to the harried man.
"Huh? How?" The man said. "A loan? I'd have trouble paying that...."
"No, no, I have a room with two beds in it. I'm here for the week myself. I have the option of another person with me if I need it for my business, a prolonged meeting for example. So he can share my room with me."
The man was too relieved to ask many questions, and I offered my name and phone and such to him, my personal business card, and he took it and was glad to have me do it. It turned out my room was 802 and his and his family's was 214, a room whose window looked out onto the hotel's interior court while mine showed most of the city to me, on the opposite side of the building. I didn't bring that to the attention of the father, he was too grateful and had enough problems on his plate.
The bellhops arrived with my luggage and the family had separated out the boy's clothes and with them in two, the boy and I went to the elevators to our wing of the hotel while his family went to the other.
"My name is Darryl Anderssen." the boy said. "I'm six, almost seven, years old."
"That's nice." I said. "My name is Joseph Watkins, but you can call me Joe."
"Nice to meet you, Joe." the kid stuck out his hand and we shook solemnly. "I want to thank you for being nice to me and my family."
"No problem." I grinned at him. "Hotels are boring after dark, you and I can keep each other company."
"Yeah." he said. Then, "You look strong."
"I work out." I told him. I worked out a lot, as a matter of fact, but he could find that out later tonight, because I hadn't brought any pajamas and planned (now) to sleep in my briefs. I sleep nude when at home.
"I can tell." he said. We got on the elevator and the bellhops grinned at each other for some reason.
Darryl raced inside and jumped onto the nearest bed. "This one is mine!" he called.
"Okay," I said, "But I get first dibs on the bathroom, I got to go real bad."
"Hee-hee-hee-hee-hee, Joe's gotta tinkle, Joe's gotta tinkle!"
A throat cleared and I turned, guiltily and tipped the two bellhops and they thanked me and left.
I turned back and the little scamp had raced into the bathroom and locked the door on me!
I considered this, and didn't make a sound, just went to his bed, opened the covers up and then closed them again, then went over to "my" bed and lay down with a grin on my face like I was perfectly satisfied.
A short time later, the bathroom door opened cautiously and he peered out at me. "Don't you have to pee?" he asked me.
I shook my head. "Not any longer." I said.
"Where?" he asked.
I looked quickly over to his bed and back again.
"Ewwww!" he said. "You didn't!"
"You left me no choice." I said. "Now, I think I'll call room service and ask them to send up a big bottle of Coca-Cola. I am feeling a little dry right now."
I went to the hotel's internal phone and as I figured, Darryl jumped over to my bed and said, "I'm going to sleep here tonight, because you tinkled in my bed!"
"Did I?" I said.
"Yeah."
"Prove it." I said and went to the bathroom, I really did have to go.
I came back and his bedcovers were all off his bed and he said, "You didn't pee in my bed."
"Never said I did."
"You tricked me."
"You tricked me first, jumping in the bathroom."
He giggled and said, "Can I get a Coca-Cola, too?"
"Sure." I said. "Hey, look, they got them in the minibar."
"Mom won't let me use the minibar." Darryl said cautiously.
"I'm here on an expense account." I said, taking out two Cokes, handed one to him. "Here you go."
We chatted about this and that, things that are important to a child, and I answered his questions about what I did. "A purchasing agent? What's that?" he asked.
"I get paid to go places and buy a lot of stuff for my business." I explained.
"Wow!" He thought about that. "Are there a lot of toys and games and electronic stuff and all?"
I grinned. "Sometimes." I said. "I have to buy the corporation's Christmas gifts that they'll give everyone along with their bonuses."
"Cool!" Darryl gushed. "Can I help pick them out?"
I considered this. "You can help me pick something for the employees who have small children." I said. "Boys and girls of all ages. Think you can handle that?"
"Sure!"
"But my meeting on that is Friday." I said. "Your family is going to Weaverworld."
"I'd rather go with you."
I pulled out my cell phone. "I'll ask my boss for permission to take you with me."
My boss liked the idea and Darryl was "hired" to buy the toys for the children of the employees from ages two to ten years old. I then called his parents and asked them for permission the same way. "Darryl wants to go and my company will pay him two hundred dollars for his help in picking out the toys." I said.
His father agreed so fast I wondered about Darryl's family life. "Your Dad said it's okay."
"Stepdad." Darryl said. "He doesn't like me."
"That's weird." I replied. "I like you a whole lot."
"I like you, too."
"Okay, fellow employee of Maxidover, Inc., how about you and me run up our expense account some more by going to dinner at some fancy-schmancy place. I promise they know how to treat a boy your age."
Marcon's did, indeed, and Darryl ate lavishly and I haven't had more fun at a restaurant while on a buying trip than I did that night. He and I discussed the fancy dresses the ladies wore and Darryl was wise, witty and hilarious. Men weren't exempted, Darryl had an animal name for them in no time. One tall, lean man, for example, was "Mr. Giraffe" and a rotund woman was "Mrs. Teddy Bear." She overheard that and beamed at my companion. I heard Darryl's "names" being exchanged around the restaurant by the time we returned to the room, he had managed to avoid anything offensive despite the opportunities like "Mrs. Teddy Bear" had offered him.
Darryl called his mother on my cell phone and bragged about his experience but had to hang up fairly fast. "Dad made her get off the phone." he explained succintly. "I don't like him."
"Don't worry about it." I said. "It happens, and it'll get easier when you get older. Now, which movie do you want to watch tonight. The hotel has over 200 G-rated movies, including some that just came out."
After that, Darryl was yawning and frankly, so was I. Having a kid around can wear you out and you love every minute of it. I was going to miss Darryl when they left in four days' time, make the end of my trip outright dull.
I came out of the bathroom and found Darryl had undressed and gotten into "my" bed. "You're in my bed." I pointed out.
"You peed in my bed, so I gotta sleep here." he countered.
"Well, I'm not sleeping in a bed with pee all over it." I replied.
"So sleep over here." he threw back the covers.
I saw he had on pajama bottoms; I was down to my briefs, not the regular tighty-whiteys, but a purple one with high-cut legs and a black waistband.
"You going to sleep in that?" he asked me.
"I have to, because you're going to be in the same bed as me." I replied.
"How do you normally sleep?"
"Bare naked."
"Great!" Darryl reached under the covers and I was startled to see him moving and then pulling out his pajama bottoms and tossing them to the floor. "Now, get them off and get in!"
More slowly, I reached for my own waistband. What was I getting into here? This bright, bouncy, intelligent kid wanted me to get in bed with him naked? I fought myself (I could sleep in the "pee-covered bed," or put on more clothes, I had some jogging pants I could wear.
Instead, I slid the waistband down my legs and raised back upright.
"Cool!" Darryl said when he saw my dong hanging down. "Your wienie looks like a great big sausage."
I grinned. "It gets even bigger when I play with it. Do you play with yours?"
"Sure, all the time." Darryl said. "Get in!"
He scooted over and I slid myself under the blankets quickly for my cock being viewed and praised was causing it to fatten up.
I shouldn't have bothered because as soon as I was settled in on my back in the queen-sized bed, Darryl was snuggling up to me and his hand landed on my stomach, slid down to my now-erect cock (you have a little boy's hand on your stomach and see how fast you pitch a tent!), and he gripped it with gusto. "Whoo, you do have a big one, don't you, Joe?"
"Yeah." I choked out. "Darned thing swells up like that and won't go down for love or money."
"Really?" Darryl replied. "I know what to do about that."
His hand began to pump on my cock and I could only moan as he whomped my put with verve and energy. "Ohhhhh, oh, God, ohhhhhh!" I groaned. "Oh, God, that feels good, so good!"
"Yeah. Do mine for me." he asked.
"Okay, but turn around in bed, I'll show you how grownups do it." I panted. I had lost all my reserve and inhibitions somewhere around the time Darryl had stripped off his pajama bottoms and now. Not sure where they went (they had been in firm control of me all day long), but they had vanished without a trace.
Darryl's little body was turned around and his feet were touching my face, I reached out and pulled them upwards as I slid downwards and soon I had his little dick in mouth-reach and I caught it and pulled the entire basket into my mouth and tickled the little dong with my tongue.
"Ohhh, ohhh, ohhhh!" Darryl said as I rolled my tongue around and around his piddle. "Is this what the grownups do? Really?"
"Yeah. If they really like you, they do, that is." I said.
"I like you." Darryl replied and sure enough, a few seconds later I felt his warm mouth close upon my glans and he stuffed my cock into his mouth far as it would go.
"Here, you do it like this." I said and moved my head to take only his dick in my mouth and I began to move up and down on it, milking it with my lips. Darryl moaned and wriggled, and soon he had let go of most of my cock and was now bobbing back and forth like a maestro. I taught him little tricks like tickling the bottom of the shaft with my tongue as I slid it out of my mouth, and when I was at the base, my tongue tip poked at his little nuts.
I groaned as Darryl manfully tried to drive my prong deeper and deeper, but had to give up, but he left off sucking and gave both my balls a tongue tickle. I moved to suckle his little nuts and he did the same to mine, a fantastic dance of joy from his fleshy mouth's inhabitant, and when both my nuts were totally soaked, I returned to sucking on him and he did the same for mine.
Darryl's little body shook like crazy and I knew he was climaxing, really experiencing for perhaps the first time that amazing place where your cock takes you when you drive its nerve endings crazy with your delicate touching. I felt his body quivering and heard his moans of pure, raw joy and felt a triumph I hadn't felt in a long time, even my last promotion hadn't felt as good as this feeling I had that I had given Darryl a rocking terrific "Big O."
I felt the familiar tingling in my cock, the drawing up of my balls and I let his now-limp prick go and I warned him (he had, in all of that, not faltered in the least at continuing to suck my cock) in hot panting breaths, "Darryl, I'm going to come. Going to shoot a lot of hot white goo out of my cock, you have to listen to my moans and let go or it'll all squirt into your mouth on you."
"Oh, oh, oh, how does, it taste." he panted briefly as he paused in sucking me.
"Awesome." I said and he returned to sucking me.
Glory rose up like a tidal wave and smashed into my senses and all my moans and grunts of warning didn't stop this hungry little kid from holding on tight, and I gave up, unleashed my white fury like they release the bulls at Pamplona. I squirted, I felt my cock jerk as it spurted hot geyser after hot geyser of juicy jizz, and Darryl held onto my cock manfully and I heard him swallow and swallow again and in the haze of my orgasm, I felt a massive debt of gratitude to him.
"Oh, man, oh, man!" I gasped when I was finally done. Darryl was still milking at me, but the monster was defeated and it was rapidly shrinking down and he realized after a while he had a limp flap of little more than skin in his mouth and he released it.
"How did I do?" He asked me when he moved around and his face shone at me. I saw that his left nostril had a white blob of goo hanging from it, and knew that my ejaculation had spurted in him so hard that some of it had gone up his nostrils.
I reached out my tongue and licked off the blob and even stuck my tonguetip into the nostril and twiddled it and he giggled. "You came a whole lot." he said to me.
"I know, oh, God, yeah, a hell of a lot!" I gasped. "You made me come harder than I can remember coming. That was one epic blast of man-goo you milked out of me."
"Do you have any more?" he asked me as his hand found my cock again. It was still limp but stirred in its grave, like a vampire awakening to its new life.
"Maybe in a little while." I said. "Let the monster rest, and it will be ready to play again in a few hours."
"Awww!" he replied. "I wanted more, that come tasted better than the chocolate eclair they brought out."
I chuckled tiredly. "Glad you approved of it. But try to sleep, we have to get up at eight a.m. if we're going to make the meeting with the toy maker representatives at ten thirty."
"Yeah." he said and snuggled up and we went to sleep like that.
If you think we slept like that until morning, you'd be sadly mistaken. I woke up again about eleven p.m. (about two hours after falling asleep) with Darryl's mouth on my again-erect dong and he was pumping away at it. I have no idea how long he had been doing it, but my cock was more than ready to erupt when it bothered to wake up the rest of me, and I climaxed a second time about five minutes later.
Darryl came up for air and said, "You're right, it just needed some rest." he said with a grin.
"Not very much." I said ruefully. "Now climb up here and sit on my chest so I can suck you like that."
He was happy to oblige and I milked at him while watching him above me, swaying like a grass blade in a gentle spring zephyr, and when he came, he looked as beatific as a saint observing Heaven. His kiss to me after was like a baptism, and I swore that, somehow or other, I'd make this boy a part of my life, maybe move to his home town and visit him or something. Does that sound creepy, it does to me now I am putting it into words, but I just wanted to be with him, share my life with him, maybe have more sex and maybe not, but be with him.
Twice more before the morning wake-up call arrived, Darryl repeated his dark hours abduction of my hardons, and I found myself unslakable for his attentions, my cock responded every time with the maximum joy and while my output of jizz diminished, my ardor and delight remained as powerful as ever.
We arose and after a nice comfortable breakfast (McDonald's, at his request), we embarked upon Darryl's first job. I found his counsel to be sensible and that it rattled the sales people. One popular toy heavily advertised on the television was "that dumb thing? You see everything it does on the commercial, and once you do that, what else can you do with it?" The ad-man had no answer for that one. He waxed enthusiastic about other toys, and I saw that they were sort of equally balanced in how much the toy performed for the child and piqued their interest and curiosity, the rest was left to the child to fill in, and fill in with their imagination.
I reported on things to management and they were amazed. "Whatever you do, don't let this kid go!" the boss said. "He's got the magic touch. See how he does with toys for the younger and older age sets this afternoon!"
I talked to Darryl and he performed, the toys he chose were simpler, sturdy, safe for a child to stuff in their mouth to teethe on, and easy for a parent to make a learning experience. I tried him on older kids' games and he knew his business there as well, declaring one videogame "really boring after a while." For your information, that videogame bombed when the teenagers got hold of it a few weeks later.
By the time the day's work was done, we were both wiped out, and staggered back to the hotel. I ordered room service and when it arrived, I had to explain that Darryl was in the bathroom, when in fact he was beneath the white tablecloth covering the dining table fishing out my dong. While the server set up the dishes, I got blown and had to muffle my climax as the server explained the choices of wine and I gasped out to give me the house white. I tipped him (happily I'd pulled out the tip before things got busy on me downstairs), and he rose up with a grin and a mouthful of jizz, and I kissed him, then we got busy devouring our meal. Afterwards, I tried to call his father then his mother, and got no answer. Odd, maybe they were busy in Weaverworld and determined to try again later, but sleep overwhelmed us soon after our meal.
The next morning, still no answer. "Maybe their phones are out." I said to Darryl, who shrugged. It wasn't his idea to call, anyhow.
With no real choice, I dragged Darryl along with me on my other purchases and he made some smart choices in those departments as well. "Purple may be crazy fancy now, but I bet it won't be in two more months." he declared. And he turned out to be right, I was glad I bought less of that product, and still we ended up with half a warehouse of purple nightmares now being declared "so over" by the older boys. My stock with the company went up every time my decisions minimized our damages or maximized our income, and a lot of that was thanks to Darryl.
By the third day, though, I was getting worried. I got the name of his Aunt Susan from him ("Step-aunt, as she likes to put it. I don't like her and she doesn't like me") and called, explained my situation. She was astonished. "Darryl wasn't in the accident?" she asked.
"No, no, he was with me." I said and tried to explain further.
But she cut me off. "Look, whoever you are, let me lay it out for you simple. Darryl's whole family was killed in an auto accident when leaving Weaverworld yesterday afternoon. A sixteen-wheeler smashed into their driver's side, the whole car was just a hunk of junk by the time it was over. There isn't anybody in my family that wants to take in Sarah's bastard boy, and Sarah was an orphan. So turn him over to Child Protective Services as an orphan and see if they can put him in a foster home. None of us give a fuck what happens to him!"
"What about Darryl's father?" I asked hopelessly.
"Stuck in jail for life, not eligible for parole for another fifteen years. Nobody here has any room for him, you get me?" she said succinctly and slammed down the phone with no further word.
I turned and said to Darryl, who had obviously heard most of the conversation despite my holding my cellphone to my ear. "Darryl, your family was in an accident."
"I heard." he said and I held him while he cried.
But not for long. "Can I come live with you?" he asked me, with the smeared tracks of tears on his adorable cheeks and more glittering in his eyes, uncried. "Maybe forever?"
"I can't.... I paused. "I don't know. Let me make some calls." As I dialed, I realized that poor Darryl had been closed out due to "maximum occupancy" once again, nobody in his family had any room in their hearts for him.
It was good that we got the extra day thanks to Darryl's clever calls shortening the meetings by dint of his skillful judging of the products, so I was able to juggle things to concentrate on him. A kindly lawyer ramrodded it through CPS and my employer gave me the thumbs up and such in support of my request to take care of Darryl for the present. Children his age, I was told, tend to not get adopted, so their interest in me was mostly if I would take decent care of the boy. I got a temporary custody order for Darryl, three months, while I underwent the full vetting process and all before I headed back home with Darryl by my side on the plane.
Now I'm Darryl's foster father and I'm working on the adoption. Darryl attends the school near where I work, and after school, he comes to my office and my boss picks his brains for opinions. The kid really has an amazing ability to know what people will like and what they will hate. When not doing that, he does his homework, and his grades have put him in the top five percent of his class.
And as for what we do at night, Darryl and me, when we're done with the office and go home, well...let's just say that Darryl has other talents that I find just as amazing as his work with the office. I hope to have his adoption finalized in time for Christmas. Giving him the name "Darryl Watkins" would be the best gift ever.
THE END
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