Artwork (c) 2004 by Inocentius & Pervertida.
[Author's Note: Truthfulness requires me to point out that this man/boy (teen/boy, technically) story is a rewrite of a very old tale I wrote under a pseudonym many years ago, it was my very first man/boy story. I recently discovered a copy of it, and I have given it a rewrite to clean up the crudity of the original somewhat, and am offering it again under my own name and with a new title.]
“You goddamned whore! You’re a whore, you know that?” the male voice screamed.
“Go to hell, you fucking bastard!” that was the wife. “I wish to hell I had never married you! I wish to hell I was still alone instead of having to put up with you and your bratty kid!”
“He’s not my kid! I know you fucked around on me, you fucking tramp!”
Let’s see you study with all that going on! I slammed my book shut. Goddamn it, I had a test tomorrow, and finals weren’t but a few weeks away and I had to put up with my neighbors’ constant fighting! It was hard enough to study with four more years of the grind ahead of you, and the shouts from next door made it even worse. This was a cheap apartment complex, but that was no reason for me to put up with the drunken screams of this pair, they fought every fucking night!
Barely ten feet separated our doors from each other, and I opened my own door and stepped out, fully intending to pound on their door, add my two cents' worth to the shouting. Sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the door, head buried in his hands, sobbing quietly, was a small form. He looked at my feet, and I could see it was a handsome young boy maybe seven years old with a tangled shock of black hair and tear-sparking-bright blue eyes. His cheekbones were smooth ridges on his face and my heart melted as I saw him sitting there, crying all alone.
"Hello." I said.
His tear-stained eyes to meet mine. "Hello."
"What's your name?"
"Billy. What's yours?"
"Thomas. Call me Tom. Billy, why are you sitting here?"
"I always sit here when mommy and daddy fight." he informed me. "They sometimes throw things. I get in the way." He declared like it was a statement of fact.
God, a kid who thinks he’s in the way! "Well, you won't be in the way at my place. Why don't you come on in and I'll fix some Kool-Aid?" I offered.
"You got Kool-Aid?" his eyes...they sparkled like sapphires!
I grinned. "Sure. I still love it." I didn't mention that, on my budget, it was all I could afford.
We sat and talked and watched cartoons on television. Billy was obviously a bright, precocious child and talking to him was easy; Billy made better conversation than some of the guys I knew in college!
There was a slam of a door and the argument that still wafted through the walls ended. Billy cocked his head like a cocker spaniel that’s heard something. "I'd better go." he told me. "Mommy always comes looking for me when they're done fighting."
"Billy!" came a faint shout through the walls.
"See. I gotta go." Billy scooted to his feet and so did I. "Can I come back again? The next time they fight?"
Again I felt anger at his parents. Billy didn’t say “if they fight” but like it was something that was sure to happen again...which it was. "Sure, Billy. You and I are friends." I assured him.
He motioned me down and I bent over, expecting some whispered secret. A moist kiss met my cheek and Billy scampered out the door. I rubbed my cheek contemplatively. I had a hard-on from a single kiss! What the hell was wrong with me?
Lonely, that’s what I was. I lived alone because there wasn’t anybody I knew well enough to ask them to live with me. Money was so damned tight, too, I had to live on twenty dollars’ worth of groceries per week. You can do it...but macaroni-and-cheese forms a starring role in a lot of your dinners. For drinks...I had the Kool-Aid I had shared with Billy.
Yeah, I was just lonesome. Billy was lonely, too, the way he had chattered with me, ignoring the cartoons that had played on my television set. I had told him such thrilling things like I was studying chemistry and algebra and he had told me his favorite subjects in school were science and geography because he got to play with frogs and look at people who were dressed in funny ways. I had laughed at that...I mean really laughed, way down deep. Billy had laughed, too. It felt so damned good to laugh.
Then...that kiss. And I had thrown a hard boner. Shit, I’d better whack it before I tried to study again.
I was eighteen years old, almost nineteen, that translates as being in a permanent state of horniness. That’s all it was. I dismissed it from my mind.
A few hours later came a knock at my door. I opened to see a harried-looking woman standing there. "Did Billy come to see you today?"
"Yes. I found him sitting in the hall." I said and smiled. "I gave him some Kool-Aid and we sat and talked."
"All right." She smoothed her hair down nervously. "You're a college student, aren’t you?"
"You see...I gotta get some work. I start tomorrow, and my mother was going to care for Billy, but she's in the hospital. Billy told me about you and I was wondering if you'd like to babysit him. He's an only child."
"Well, I go to college full-time...."
She cut me off. "Billy’s at school from eight to three-thirty. You' only have to mind him after that. You don’t have any late-afternoon classes, do you?”
“No, no, I’m done by two o’clock and that’s only twice a week.” I nattered.
“Well, my job will be from three to midnight." She ran her hair through her mop of mousy-brown hair. “That’s why Bob is so damned mad, me being away every night. He thinks I ought to stay home all the time and take care of him, and that bastard can’t even keep a job for more than two days in a row. I’m fed up with trying to make do. I deserve better, damn it!” Her voice was rising up to her shrieking tone I was too familiar with.
“Sure, sure, I’ll take care of Billy.” I said. “How much do you think is fair? Will I have to feed him his supper?”
We discussed the terms, and I made it easy on her, getting little more than the cost of feeding Billy supper. And the next day at three-thirty, Billy came knocking on my door. And again, tears stained his face, and as he looked at me, his silent sobs turned into outright crying.
I immediately took him into my arms, and I wormed it out of him a little at a time, through the snuffles. It seems that Billy's father that very day had walked out of their lives. He had come to school to say good-bye to Billy. "Mommy's going to be working at night, too." he confided in me. "She told me this morning that I was to stay with you after school."
"Of course." I said. "You know you're welcome here."
"Okay." Billy said and his arms around me, he kissed me again. This time on the lips, full and moist. I gulped, as his kiss was very familiar, almost...passionate? This was a kid, for chrissakes! I held him and let him stay on my lap for a while, though I felt sure he could feel my boner stabbing his thigh. Maybe his leg rubbed it some before he got down. I couldn't say.
He cheered up some after a while, watching cartoons on television. I inquired, to find out his family hadn't lived in the city very long and he had no friends. That settled it; we went out and I spent some of my college money on games for him. We then had supper and played the games I had bought until 8:00 p.m., nearing his bedtime. I informed him that he should take a bath and he agreed. "Do you have a bathtub?" he called from the bathroom.
"I have a shower. You know how to use it?" I called.
"No." he informed me. I went on in to find him nude and standing in the shower. "How do I wash without sitting in water?" he asked me, seeming baffled at the simple square tiled area behind the plastic sliding door.
I tried to explain but he didn't understand. Finally, he said, "Why don't you shower with me and show me?"
"Uh, okay." I said. This is a kid, I told myself. This is a kid. After a while I believed it and got undressed, sure I could comport myself with proper dignity. My dignity evaporated the minute I joined him in the shower.
His stare discomfited me, and it wasn't aimed at the muscles my work-outs were beginning to produce on my shoulders, not the enormous amount of hair on my chest, nor my stocky legs. He was looking directly at my penis. And it was noticing the attention, slowing rising in front of his wide-eyed face.
He saw me looking at him and blushed. "I'm sorry." he said.
I decided to treat it lightly. Pretend it's not important, and Billy wouldn't think so, either. "That's okay." I said. "You can look at it if you want."
"I can?" he turned bright eyes and smiling face to me. His eyes returned to my cock, now rigid and pointing directly at him. "Can I touch it? Just a little?" he begged me.
The child psychology books I'd read that afternoon said nothing about how to handle this! I decided to continue as I had. "If you want to." I managed to choke out.
He immediately reached and wrapped one warm hand around my dick and jacked it slowly, pulling the foreskin back from the cockhead. "I've never seen one like that." he said.
His own small penis was cut, I noticed. "Yours is okay, too." I said, glancing at it again. It was definitely rising up. I didn't know children could have erections!
Back and forth, his hand was moving faster now. This kid knew what he was doing. And my body was stirring, rising in heat. "Stop that, please, Billy." I panted.
"Why? Don't you like it?" he asked.
"Uh, yeah." Can't have the kid think something's wrong with an erection! "It feels great. But...."
His hand speeded up into a blur on my cock and I gasped, moaned in agony. The pool of fire was centering on my cock and I couldn't hold out long.
"Do you know what's going to happen next, Billy?" I choked out. “If you don’t stop?”
"No." he said, grinning up at me.
"If you don't stop, I'm going to have an orgasm."
"Is that the white stuff that shoots out?" Billy asked.
"Yeah." I panted, moaned.
"Then I want to see it." Billy said.
"Ah, ah, okay, Billy." I moaned. "I'm going to shoot it real soon."
"I want you to shoot it on my face." Billy said and knelt down to where his pretty face was directly in front of my cock being flogged by his tiny little-boy hand.
"Are...you...sure?" My orgasm was building in me.
"Yeah. Shoot it on my face, Tom!" Billy ordered me. “Shoot it on my face!”
I had no choice; passion roared through me at that sweet command from that angelic face. I groaned, grimaced, barely kept my feet while my load arced out and splattered Billy right on his gorgeous face. My white streams of come matted his black hair, blinded his blue eyes, coated his smooth face with long ropes of starchy spunk. Billy didn't stop stroking me until at long last my body returned to me and my orgasm was over; my penis drooping in his small hand.
"Oh, Billy, that was great!" I grunted as soon as I could.
"Did you like it, Tom?" Billy asked anxiously.
"I loved it." I grinned at him, his face still dotted with my come. I reached down and lifted his face to mine, kissed him. As I drew back, Billy reached up and wiped some come off his face, put it in his mouth. "Tastes salty." he said.
"Yes, it does." I agreed.
"Will mine do that?" he asked, looking down at his organ.
I followed his eyes, saw it still erect. I took it in my hand (thumb and forefinger, really) and jerked it. "Let's find out." I said and knelt down to get a better angle.
Billy leaned against the shower wall and moaned his appreciation at my technique. I watched his face, still splattered with my jizz, his small mouth open in his joy, his face squinched up, but not in tears now, but in pleasure.
"Uh, uh, UUUUH!” he said after a time, “Oh, that’s enough.”
I grinned and continued. He was in for a discovery, one I’d made with my own cock back when I was his age, what happens when you don’t stop.
"Stop, Tom, stop, uh, uh, uuuhhh! GAHHH, GAHH, UHHH, UHHH, GUHHHH!" he groaned and thrashed about, barely keeping his footing. After he was done once more, this time only making it known by the ending of his yelps and replacing it with heaving breathing, I turned loose.
"That's what it feels like, Billy." I informed him.
He grinned at me through his come-splashed face. "It feels great." he reached for the shower and turned it on, expertly adjusting the temperature before turning it onto the shower head.
"I thought you didn't know how to shower." I grinned at him.
He grinned back. "I couldn't think of any other way to get you in here."
I had to laugh. The water felt great on my body, and Billy had fun soaping me up. I soaped him, too, and it was just a time of great, pure, unadulterated happiness.
After we showered, we talked and Billy told me the source of his wisdom. "After Daddy left, I found some movies and put them in our VCR. I thought it'd be Dumbo or something, but it wasn't. It was a man and a woman, and they did what I did to you. The woman took it on her face, so I figured I should."
"Is that all?" I asked while I finished drying.
"No." Billy said and took hold of my cock again, which obliged him by promptly getting hard. "The woman did this." And Billy took my cock into his mouth and began to bob his head up and down on it, and I groaned all over again. Jeez, what had I gotten myself into? I had become a little boy’s playtoy!
How had I gotten so lucky?
Billy wasn't an expert cocksucker. He left his mouth too dry and didn't stroke it correctly; my cock kept hitting teeth and the roof of his mouth. After enough bumps, I lost my erection and Billy took it out, regarded it. "I guess it takes practice." His hand took over for me again and I hastened to grab his, as well.
“So let’s get in a lot of practice.” I said.
Billy chuckled. “Yeah.”
We spent the rest of the evening jacking each other off again and again. Billy never seemed to tire; his young muscles could keep it up all night if necessary. And I was eighteen, with its insatiable drive. We had found our match.
I would come home and undress, wearing only a robe while waiting for Billy to arrive. He would enter, walk over and attack me. We would sit on the couch and keep our hands busy on each other, alternating this with Billy practicing how to suck my cock. I read up on it at the library between classes and could coach him with that, and with what felt good. Upon Billy's bedtime, I would go to bed as well with him, his warm, small body wrapped around mine. On the nights his mother would come by, we'd have the alarm set for 12:30 a.m. and rush to dress before she returned from work and knocked on my door. More and more often, though, would come a phone call, and that meant Billy would stay the entire night. I looked forward to that, and so did Billy.
The separation between Billy and his mother continued to grow greater as the weeks went by. She didn't seem to care for Billy at all, and Billy compensated by coming over more and more often, sometimes staying with me all weekend. His mother might come over and might not; she had her boyfriends, and was grateful for my help. I always insisted that I was having so much fun, I thought I should pay her. It was the truth, too.
Billy never told his parents what we were doing, though I never insisted. He had figured it out for himself. When I asked, hesitantly, one day, he shrugged and said, "If I tell them, they won't let me come over. So I don't tell them."
Finals and then summer came at last, and with it a request from Billy's mother. She and her husband were trying to patch things up, and were going away together for two weeks. Could Billy stay with me for that long? I almost broke my neck nodding, saying YES too quickly. Billy moved over with all his things, and we were in heaven. I was running out of money and would have to return home or find a job for the summer. That worried me. Who would take care of Billy? And who would take care of me? I’d gotten used to non-stop loving from the hands and mouth of a willing little boy, and the loss of that was just something I couldn’t bear. Well, I had two weeks to figure it out. One week. Three days.
Then, on the night before his mother was to return for him, I got two phone calls. The first one was from his father. He and Billy’s mother had given up and were parting ways and he wanted to know if I would tell Billy's mother when she returned that he was taking that job in Saudi Arabia after all and wouldn't be back for two years? He concluded by saying, "Why don't I send you money instead of to that bitch? It'll get to Billy instead of her boyfriends. Let me pay you for taking care for him, okay?"
"Okay." I said. Relieved. That would let me get only a part-time job. Maybe Billy and I could work this out after all, so I could stay in this apartment with him. Then again, the way his mother was behaving lately.... Hmmm....
I was more prepared for the next call, from his mother. "When his father comes to pick Billy up for the summer, would you tell him to keep Billy forever? I'm moving in with my boyfriend and he doesn't want kids. It'd be best for Billy if I didn't see him again."
"What about my money?" I asked.
"I'll send you money to care for Billy if his father leaves him with you. I wouldn't be surprised; that bastard talked about going to work on an oil rig in Saudi Arabia. If his father doesn't pick him up, he's all yours. I know it's mean, but I never wanted children and Billy loves you. Could you take care of him for me full-time in that case? I'll send you all the money I can. Just tell him I'm dead. It's true enough, for I never want to see Billy again."
"All right, ma'am." I said, Billy kneeling at my feet, sucking on my cock while I talked on the phone to his mother. He was getting very good at it, and was insatiable. But so was I. "Billy can stay with me forever and ever." I hung up and Billy looked up at me, his eyes shining.
"You get to stay with me forever, Billy." I said. "If you want to. Do you want to?"
Billy's response was to speed up his attack on my cock, sending me into immediate orgasm. I shot my load right into his mouth and Billy drank it right down. A first for both of us. It was like the formation of a bond, one that would never be broken.
When I caught my breath, Billy looked up, licking his lips and said, "Does that answer your question?"
"Yes." I said. "That answers all my questions."
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