*Gay Sex: Older & Young men*

I was in a right mess. I’d missed the last bus home. I had been to badminton in Southampton. I went on the bus and it was only the second time I had done it. Until I was 15 I could only go if Mum took me. Now they thought I was old enough to go no my own. The last bus went at 10pm and it took an hour to get home across the New Forest to my village. It was my own fault in a way. I’d hung around the changing room too long. See I always get a hard when I am in the changing room so I wait till the place is empty before I change. Don’t go thinking I’m queer or anything just because this happens. I bet it happens to all boys of my age after exercise, and being in a room with naked men. I just look to see what their cocks are like and wonder if mine will grow that big. Yeh I play with myself at night, but all boys do that anyway. Well now I was stuck with no bus, and I knew if I didn’t get back by just after 11pm then my Mum wouldn’t let me go again.

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In fifteen years working for the department of motor vehicles, I’ve administered the road test to all of them. The young and old, the male and female, the nervous, the overconfident, the experts and the klutzes. But at least once a week, I get one of the Desperadoes. This candidate has to pass the driving test. He or she is desperate for a license, and would probably sell his or her soul to the devil to get one.

Maybe it’s the thirty-year old who has just completed his DUI program and now must get his license back. He needs the car for his job. Maybe it’s the seventy-year old whose children want him off the road once and for all, and state law requires he be retested every five years; but he’s been driving all his life and if he were to lose his license now, he might as well quit living. Maybe it’s the young mother, who has never driven before but is going crazy stuck in the house now that her child has started school. But most often, it’s a young kid like Tommy, who got into my test car last week.

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“Excuse me–sir?”

I turned around at the sound of the voice. It was young.

The boy stood in the doorway, wearing only a white towel below his slender belly.

I smiled to myself. Once in a while Joe, the manager, lets a cute teenager he knows is underage in the door. He doesn’t do it often–we walk a thin line with the vice boys. They look the other way as long as they get their palms greased, but if they found out we trafficked in chicken we’d lose our license. And that would be the least of it.

My attitude about the whole thing is, live and let live. If any kid walks into this joint, he knows what he’s getting into. This is a massage parlor, not the local mall. If some pretty boy wants his cherry popped, that’s his business. And if he wants me to pop it for him, so much the better for both of us. Normally I like men, not boys. I’ve never put the moves on a teenager, and I never will. Guys who prey on kids make my skin crawl. But if a teenager puts the moves on me, or makes out he wants more than a good massage, all bets are off.

(more…)

This is a fantasy and should be read as one or is it drawn from your life, your time, your expectations - who can tell in this day and age; but if it touches a nerve, fulfils a dream then contact me at czykguy@hotmail.com and let me know I first met David when I was fourteen going on fifteen. I was then at Secondary School and I was having a bad time. Don’t let anyone tell you they were the best of days, at least for me they were the worst and I dreaded getting up every morning to go to school. I did not fit in with the all-male environment; I had spent most of my junior years playing with the girls with whom I had felt an affinity and I felt I was now a fish out of water, especially as I did not have any proper friends, at least no-one I was close to.

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You open a door and walk through. You are standing in a grass field. The field goes as far as your eyes can see. You look behind you and the door you walked through is missing. You turn back around and see a nude boy standing in front of you. The boy is about 14 or 15 years old. His hair short with its part in the middle. His hair color is blonde. The color blonde, like a ripe wheat field. You look into his face. His eyes are blue. The type of blue that the sky wishes it could be and the sea will never be. You see a light dusting of freckles on his nose. You see no blemishes or hair on his face. You look down some more. The boy’s chest has no hair on it. His tits are the size of dimes and they are erect. You look down again and see his stomach is flat with the beginnings of a nice six pack forming. You look down again and see a small but dense blond pubic bush. The boy’s penis is about 5 inches of hard boy meat. You see a clear drop of his fluid on the tip. His balls hang low in the heat of the day. You see no hair on his sac. You look down again and see his legs, his legs have a nice muscle tone to them and the boy is starting to get some light blond hairs on his calves. You look back up to the boy’s face. The boy smiles at you. You are blinded by sunlight shining off his braces and the beauty of the smile. You know that this boys smile would melt the heart of anyone who would look upon it. The boy steps forward and gives you a kiss. You feel the boy’s tongue rub your lips, so you open your mouth to let his tongue in. The boy’s tongue rubs your teeth and gums, then moves in to explore the rest of your mouth. You feel the boy’s tongue dance around your mouth as you push your tongue into his. You run your tongue around the inside of the boy’s mouth and taste his breath. His breath has a mint after taste from some sort of mint the boy has eaten.

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