Boyds Boys

BOYD'S BOYS BY: MOORE

CHAPTER ONE

MONDAY MORNING

Andrew Turner woke to his alarm with his usual morning erection. He inspected his swollen penis carefully for teeth marks, then washed and brushed, combed his sun-bleached hair, and dressed. He dressed like all his friends dressed: T shirt, Calvin Klein button-fly boxers, running shorts and flip flops. A few of the college boys had started to wear colorful CK jock straps at the beach club this past summer, Andrew thought that was so cool. Though not nearly as cool as the 2(x)ist thong worn by the head lifeguard. He bounded down the stairs of the split level house to the kitchen where his mother had breakfast waiting. Andrew ate quickly so he didn't have to listen to her constant nagging, then flipped on the wide screen TV to watch the Simpsons until it was time to meet his new best friend Gary.

Across the street from Andrew's house, Gary Miller didn't eat much of the bacon and eggs his mother had prepared for his breakfast. The Miller family had moved to the wealthy community of Parkside only last month and Gary, though he hid it well, had been nervous about making new friends and now he was nervous about his plans for the morning. A sun-bleached blond like Andrew Turner, and similarly attired in what his father referred to as a teenager's uniform, he too watched TV to escape his mother's nagging until it was time to meet Andrew.

Dr. Thomas Kellenberg, the principal of Parkside High School for the past 15 years, had been at his desk since eight reviewing his welcoming remarks and the million other details that would keep him busy on this first day of the new school year. A hoard of teenaged boys and girls would soon invade the hallowed halls of his domain and he wanted to be well prepared. Kellenberg might have stayed in bed had he known that two senior boys would never arrive at school this morning.

At the marina, Red Kelly, Brad Anderson and Nigel Brooks were also finalizing their preparations for the first day of school. The Sweet Boy, Red Kelly's ocean going yacht was fueled and ready to take on its cargo for the cruise to BoydIsland IX, a privately owned island off the Venezuelan coast. If all went as planned, as it had previous occasions, and the quality of the delivered merchandise met all specifications, Red Kelly's bank account would swell by $100,000. The two boys he was waiting for would complete his present contract.

At approximately 8:45 Andrew Turner and Gary Miller left their homes for the short walk that took them passed the marina to school.

"You ready?" Andrew said to Gary as they ditched their school books in a trash can and turned into the marina.

"I'm not sure about this," Gary replied.

"About being outed or about running away? Peter'll do it you know, if one of us won't suck his cock today. You don't know him like I do, Gary, he'll show the pictures he took at the club, maybe even put'em on the net. By the end of the day the whole school will know that we're fags."

"We're not fags, Andy, we're gay. And we were just fooling around."

Andrew shrugged his shoulders, "Gay, fags, whatever. You were sucking my dick and I was sucking yours. The whole school is gonna be laughing their heads off when they find out that we're both cocksuckers. Mr. Kelly is our only hope."

"It's not fair, shit. I don't want to suck Peter's dick, let him cum in my mouth. Why don't you do it? You like cum more than me anyway."

"You ever see Peter's dick? It's huge, bigger than my dad's. No way can I suck it without choking to death."

"Then we're doing the right thing, huh, running away with Mr. Kelly for a week, until Peter returns to college?"

"We're doing the only thing we can do."

Neither boy's absence was noted until after the general assembly when they should have been in homeroom where attendance was taken at 10:00. Nor was their absence cause for immediate alarm. A frantic Kellenberg called the police at 10:30 after routine phone calls to Mrs. Turner and Mrs. Miller.

The Sweet Boy was well under way at 10:40 when the police arrived at Parkside High School to begin the investigation into the missing boys.

CHAPTER TWO

TUESDAY MORNING AT SEA

Andrew and Gary were still asleep when the Sweet Boy reached international waters. They'd had a late night watching X-rated DVD's, a busy one too exploring their homosexuality together. Yet again, Kelly, who claimed he could spot the gay kid in a crowd of fifty boys, had chosen wisely. He would have returned to port and sent the boys home if he had been wrong.

"I don't know how you do it, Red," Brad said as he poured himself a cup of coffee. "The guy I worked for three years ago used to threaten to cut their dicks off, feed'em to the sharks if they didn't cooperate."

Kelly laughed at the lunacy of his competitors. He wouldn't so much as harm a single hair on their precious heads. Each boy was worth up to $50,000 upon delivery to BoydIsland IX and the value declined substantially if the boy was delivered damaged. The value declined as well if, when closely inspected, the boy had a physical flaw. A large birth mark, an unsightly scar, a poorly done circumcision; any number of imperfections normally concealed by his clothes would lessen the boy's value.

A boy discovered to have a major physical defect or, as happened from time to time, too many small defects, would be rejected as unfit for his intended use. Rejected boys were disposed of quickly; sold to an Arab merchant who controlled the Middle East white slave markets, or sold to a man Kelly knew in Bangkok who was always in the market for 18 - 20 year old white boys to staff one of his party clubs.

Red Kelly enjoyed the work he did under a long-term contract with BoydIsland Resorts Ltd. The monetary rewards had made him a wealthy man over the years and the pre-delivery quality control inspection and transformation training he undertook was an added fringe benefit for a man who appreciated the special beauty of boys.

Andrew Turner and Gary Miller had not been chosen at random, but carefully selected for their blond hair and blue eyes, age, body size and innocent boyish good looks. The scanty outfits they wore all the time made appraising their bodies that much easier. He knew they were gay the moment he laid eyes on them, now, as they emerged on deck rubbing the sleep from their eyes, he had to find out if they were fags too.

Kelly was not pleased to see that Andrew and Gary had come up on deck wearing their shorts and T shirts. A sign that last night's activities had left them feeling guilty or ashamed of what they had done. American boys in their teens were sometimes shy about their bodies, unlike the last consignment of Sri Lankan boys who spent more time naked than dressed. Shy or not, his current contract called for boys who had grown accustomed to being naked around adults and Kelly never failed to deliver as promised. It was time to turn the screw a little.

"What's with the clothes? Didn't you enjoy last night?"

Andrew and Gary giggled, shy in the daylight, but two T shirts, two pair of shorts and two pair of Calvin Klein boxers were placed on the deck and were soon carried aloft by the wind and left far behind in the Sweet Boy's wake.

Both boys were blushing, hands covering their genitals. A normal teenage embarrassment at being nude in front of the three men. Kelly had them walk and turn, bend over and spread their cheeks, lift their testicles...visually inspecting every inch of their apparently perfect bodies. They weren't blushing any longer. No, they were having fun showing off their naked bodies and firm erections.

Andrew had blond pubic hair above his perfectly formed penis. His hairless testicles completed a beautiful package. Gary's cock was uncut, a much prized rarity among American boys. It was set off nicely by a small patch of curly blond pubes and low hanging balls. His foreskin would garner a $5,000 bonus.

Collecting volunteers was how Red Kelly described what he did to earn his substantial living. He had never kidnapped an American boy, taken one against his will in all his years in the business. Neither would he have sex with an American boy before reaching international waters. Why take the risk when the gay trickle that began in the 1980's had turned into a flood by the end of the 1990's. The closet door had been blown off its hinges by the tidal wave of homosexual men and boys rushing to get out of the closet and into the world.

Red Kelly was no saint, under his guidance over the next few days Andrew Miller and Gary Turner would become willing slaves to cock. They were already gay boys...soon they'd be fags, sexual toys for the boy-loving men who came to BoydIsland Resorts.

CHAPTER THREE

TUESDAY AFTERNOON AT SEA

The boys were resting below deck, exhausted after hours of almost continuous cocksucking. Gary had improved, but he still couldn't take more than two inches in his mouth without gagging. Andrew on the other hand had all the makings of a first rate cocksucker. Not one teenage boy in a hundred, in Red Kelly's long experience, could go all the way down to the pubes on an eight inch dick like Andrew had done. And the semen ejaculated into his mouth, an acquired taste at best, hadn't troubled him either. Unlike most gay boys who tolerated it, Andrew appeared to like the taste of cum.

Licking his lips the way he did after Nigel climaxed in his mouth was one indication. Cleaning Brad's messy cock and balls of all traces of sperm after he'd cum in Gary's mouth was another. Andrew was clearly a cum pig, as such rare and highly sought after boys were referred to in the trade. Kelly switched on the ship to shore radio, he wanted to share the good news with employer immediately.

"What's a come pig?" Andrew said to Gary who was lying next to him on the narrow bunk.

"Huh?"

"A come pig. Mr. Kelly is talking to somebody about finding a come pig."

"He's talking about you, I think. You're the cum pig. How do you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Swallow the jizz so easily and swallow down their big cocks without gagging?"

"I dunno, I sort of like the taste."

Andrew started to laugh. Soon both boys were laughing and kissing and hugging each other like lovers. Both boys grew stiff as their penises rubbed against bare flesh; a sure sign that their sexual transformation was well underway.

CHAPTER FOUR

William Boyd was in his office on Boyd Island IX when Kelly's call came through. He gazed at the picture of his son, Bill, Jr. or Willy as they called him, while Kelly described the boys he would be delivering on Wednesday. Dead 18 years, an automobile accident that had also taken the life of his wife Jean, and Boyd still missed Willy who would have celebrated his thirtieth birthday on Wednesday.

The death of his wife and son had hit him hard, but it also made him more determined then ever to make a big success of the small upscale hotel in the Catskill mountains that Jean loved so much. Boyd Island Resorts he and Jean named it when they purchased the property the year after Willy was born. And it was like an island, surrounded by trees instead of water, an island paradise in the middle of an old growth forest. Despite their hard work, the hotel struggled financially when Jean was alive, one year after her death and Boyd was thinking about refurbishing the place. Three years after the accident and Boyd Island II opened for business on a real island Boyd purchased near Puerto Rico.

Steven, the 12 year old boy who had changed William Boyd's fortunes was long dead too, succumbing to leukemia at age 15. His death had embittered Boyd, turned him into a cruel and unemotional, almost sadistic old man. Not even the memory of their chance meeting and three loving years together could soften a once warm heart that had turned to stone.

"Please don't send me back there, mister," Steven had said when Boyd found him hiding in the boat house.

"Back there" was the home for orphaned boys about ten miles away, Boyd knew without asking. Boys ran away all the time...though none had ever made it this far without being picked up. His heart went out to the boy who bore a striking resemblance to his dead son.

Just for the night, he thought, taking the boy's hand in his own and leading the grateful lad to his villa. Tomorrow morning I'll call the authorities.

"You must be hungry after walking all that distance," Boyd said. "How about some scrambled eggs? It's the only thing I know how to make."

"Eggs'll be fine, thanks. I really appreciate your taking me in."

Steven wolfed down the eggs and toast, yawning throughout the meal. Exhaustion had finally caught up with the boy who hadn't slept in 36 hours. Boyd lead him to his son's old room when he had finished eating and helped him off his muddy clothes.

"I'll put these in the washer while you take a bath," he said. "Be back in a minute."

Steven was fast asleep in the tub when Boyd returned. The water had all but drained away and Boyd chuckled softly when he saw that the boy was aroused. His adorable little penis, two inches at most, was stiff as a tent peg. Willy too had gotten erections in the bathtub, Boyd remembered fondly. "See how big I am, daddy?" He'd giggle, proudly showing Boyd his little spike, then he'd rush off to show Jean before it went down.

"Yes, dear," he assured his wife who'd grown up with two sisters. "Little boys get erections just like their daddies, and don't be surprised when you start to find semen stains on his sheets."

He'd also had to explain wet dreams to his innocent wife who found it amusing that adolescent boys dreamed about sex and ejaculated in their sleep. "It'll be another year, I think, once his pubic hair starts to grow."

He lifted Steven out of the bathtub, his body light as a feather, wrapped him in a fluffy towel and carried him to bed. He looked like a cherub, an innocent angel lying atop the comforter.

"Sleep tight," Boyd whispered in his ear, resisting the urge to nuzzle the boy's sweet smelling neck and kiss him goodnight, like he'd done when putting Willy to sleep. Once more, he wistfully thought as he looked down on the boy fast asleep in his son's bed. What I wouldn't give for one more bath, one more bedtime story, one more hug and sweet kiss.

Boyd was still awake, reading in bed several hours later when his bedroom door opened and Steven came into the room. "Could I sleep with you in your bed, Mr. Boyd? Please."

Boyd was embarrassed as Steven came closer. He slept in the nude and the boy hadn't bothered to put on the pajamas he'd left by the bed. I'd sure have some explaining to do if somebody came in about now, he thought, lifting the covers as he and Jean had done so many times for Willy. Good lord, a man my age and a young boy in bed together, and naked to boot. What a scandal.

"Sure, hop in. My boy liked to sleep here too when he had a bad dream or when a loud thunder storm rolled through."

Steven hadn't had a bad dream and the night was perfectly calm. He climbed into Boyd's bed, snuggled against Boyd's body and reached between Boyd's legs because that's what he did every night at the orphanage. One night a week in the director's bed, one night with the staff doctor. On the other five nights of the week he removed his nightshirt and climbed into bed with men who paid to sleep with him, naked men he didn't even know.

No one would have guessed it to look at his sweet, innocent face, but at the tender age of twelve Steven knew more about pleasing a man sexually than most married women. He'd had sex with as many different men as any prostitute, female or male, who serviced men for a living. At twelve years of age Steven, who had lived at the orphanage from birth, was a slave to cock.

Boyd froze when he felt Steven's hand on his cock. No one but Jean had ever touched him there. Even after her death he had remained faithful to her memory, resorting to masturbation when he needed release, and not even that for years. He tried to turn away but the boy was insistent, lightly stroking and gently squeezing his long neglected organ. Despite the shame and guilt he felt, Boyd was aroused. His long dormant cock was reacting to the boy's touch.

His "Noooo" turned to "Ooooo Jean" when Steven sat astride the shell shocked man and skillfully guided the now turgid organ to his anus. The slick warmth that quickly enveloped the head of Boyd's cock brought back a flood of wonderful memories. Virgins when they met, Jean and Boyd's passionate lovemaking had continued unabated for the entirety of their marriage. Jean liked starting on top, positioning herself exactly where Steven was now, riding his cock while Boyd fondled her small breasts and wound his fingers through her lush pubic hair.

Boyd was too far gone, too close to climax to notice or care that anyone but Jean, that a young boy was making him feel so good. He felt like a young man again, on his honeymoon, hormones coursing through his body as he rolled Steven to his back and showered his face with kisses.

"Oh, darling," he moaned as he eased himself again and again through the boy's receptive sphincter muscle. "Oh, Jean," he gasped over and over. "I love you so much."

Steven met each of Boyd's thrusts, arching his back to maximize the penetration of Boyd's pistoning dick and his pleasure. Steven was secretly pleased to be mistaken for the man's wife, Jean. The men who ordinarily had him for their pleasure rarely called him anything other than pussy boy and cocksucker while they were using his ass and mouth for sex; faggot or queer when they were done with his body.

Boyd nearly blacked out when his orgasm burst forth and captured his soul. The force of his ejaculation bordered on the painful as the semen exploded from the tip of his penis into the depths of Steven's bowels. Steven felt it too; the sudden thickening of the man's cock, the tightening of his balls, the raw force of the man's ejaculation and the familiar tingle he'd grown to love as the invading flood of warm sperm reacted with the naturally occurring secretions in his bowel.

Boyd was still breathing hard when Steven slithered down the bed and kissed his deflated cock. "Oh my god," Boyd screamed as if struck by a bolt of lightening. "Oh my god, Jean, are you going to suck my cock!?"

Jean had tried to accommodate him once early in their marriage, but oral sex left her cold. SUCK IT! How many times he'd wanted to shout at her in frustration when Jean would back off at the last second, his cock, oozing precum in anticipation of the blow job, barely an inch from her full lips. He never did though, not wanting to hurt her feelings.

"Yes sir," Steven responded automatically. When a man told him to suck...he sucked. He settled himself comfortably between Boyd's legs in anticipation of a long session with a sticky, limp dick in his mouth. Boyd surprised him with his rapid recovery, older men didn't usually get it up again so fast after fucking him and cumming in his ass. Some men had to urinate first, which they brazenly did in his mouth more times than not, before they could get hard again.

He teased the foreskin with his tongue as Boyd's cock thickened between his lips, angling his head for the thrust he expected, the pile driving thrust that would drive the resurgent dick through his lips and mouth and on into his throat.

"Take it, cocksucker," or "suck my dick, boy!" Every night he heard the same thing. The men who used him were so predictable, so callous that Steven hardly knew what to make of it when Boyd gently flipped him around and began to fondle his penis.

Better late than never, Boyd thought as Steven's erect cock pulsed in response to his touch. Steven may have been surprised, but Boyd knew exactly what he was doing. Fifty years was a long time to keep a secret, a very long time to wait to do something he always regretted not doing the summer he turned ten.

The other nine boys in his cabin had done it...with their hands and eventually with their mouths. Don's penis was so big that one boy could play with head, two boys could stroke the shaft and a third boy could play with the testicles. Every boy got a turn to play with different parts of the giant penis, or cock as Don said they should call it; touch the slippery precum that oozed from the tip and the sticky sperm that Don shot on his stomach.

Every boy also got a turn to be fondled by Don and to put his stiff little penis in Don's warm mouth.

"It's called a blow job," Don explained from his knees to the young and innocent boys circled around him. "Cool guys do it for each other in college, but watch closely while I demonstrate because you're really supposed to suck your buddy's cock to make him and you feel good. Oh yeah, suck," he said with a lusty gleam in his eye, reaching for the nearest boy. "Suck your buddy's dick and play with his nuts until he cums in your mouth."

It was cool, trading hand jobs and blow jobs with Don and the other boys in the cabin. A fun game to play at night and nothing more. No pressure or name calling, but the young William Boyd just couldn't bring himself to do more than watch.

Boyd remembered that long ago summer like it was yesterday. The bus ride that was so much fun, all the boys singing and laughing and looking forward as he was to a great summer. That first view of the magnificent camp grounds and the crystal clear lake was awesome, as was his first view of Donald Parker's penis.

"Welcome to Fairwoods, boys. This is cabin six, the Raven's cabin, and my name's Don Parker. I'll be your counselor this summer. We're gonna have a great summer, right?"

Boyd had cheered enthusiastically along with the rest.

"My bunk's the one in the corner. Come over anytime, night or day if you got a problem or a question. We're gonna be like one big family for the next two months, help each other out and have fun. We've got at least an hour before your camp trunks are delivered so let's hit the lake for a swim, boys. You can stow your gear after dinner."

Boyd also remembered Don's light hearted response when he asked the obvious question. "Bathing suits, what for? We're all guys here."

Don Parker was a good looking young man with a magnificent body that he wasn't shy about showing off. Heads turned when he walked on campus, often with the prettiest coed in school on his arm. Heads turned in the locker room too when he stripped after practice and gave his teammates a good long view of his cock before heading for the showers. He'd saved a lot of stunned, slack jawed guys from acute embarrassment by joking about the size of his equipment and answering the questions before they were asked. He'd also saved more than one fellow from a severe case of blue balls by letting the inquisitive fellow do more than just look at his oversized organ.

"Nine inches," he told the pre-teen boys in Cabin Six when he saw them starring at the monster hanging between his legs. He let them look for a minute, even swung it around to get them laughing while they undressed, then marched them off to the lake in their birthday suits.

Within a week, every Raven idolized Don who epitomized what a camp counselor should be. They followed him around like puppies, eager for his praise or a pat on the head, and copied everything that he did. One counselor made a pass at him, but got a polite brush-off. Don was bisexual and at school he would have let the guy get off on his dick. Here at a boy's camp though, well, he liked his women pretty and when he had a choice, he liked his men young...very young.

Don Parker didn't wear a bathing suit to the lake so neither did the Ravens, proudly lining up and marching behind him naked as the other campers and counselors looked on in amazement. Don showered every night, not something pre-teen boys ordinarily did at home without an argument, but here at camp they happily crowded around Don in the shower and followed him back to the cabin with nothing but a towel around their necks. Don slept in the nude so not one Raven boy bothered with pajamas when they got back to the cabin to talk for a while before lights out.

Don Parker taught the Ravens, city boys from affluent families, a great many things that summer. He taught them how to swim and sail, fish and shoot, pitch a tent and light a camp fire. He also taught them how to masturbate, handle another boy's cock and balls, and for those who were willing, how to give head.

Boyd closely examined Steven's stiff little penis and smooth round testicles, compared it to his own heavily veined erection as the memories of that informative summer brought a smile to his face. "Mine's just a little bigger, boys," Boyd remembered Don saying.

An obvious understatement which made the boys laugh because the difference between his and theirs was astonishing. Peter Garvey was the first to touch it, tentatively at first then boldly wrapped his fingers as far as they would go around the very thick shaft, declaring that it felt nice. All the Ravens took a turn at feeling Don's penis, except little William Boyd who didn't think it proper to touch another boy's private parts.

Don Parker took matters into his own hand, ejaculating a huge load of semen while the Ravens watched with amazed looks on their faces. He arranged them in a circle and encouraged each boy to try it. Boyd participated in the circle jerk, as Don called it, blushing when Don said he had a nice cock. The nightly sex games continued in secret throughout the summer and a secret desire that remained with William Boyd until now.

"You have a nice cock," Boyd whispered in Steven's ear, nervous as a young virgin bride on her honeymoon. "Would it be okay, Steven, would it be okay if I take it in my mouth?"

Boyd didn't call the authorities the following morning or the next morning or the next. They'll only send him back to the orphanage, he thought, toying with the idea of adopting the boy who'd put the spring back in his step and the starch back in his cock. The sex with this boy was incredible, as good as it had been with Jean. Better in fact because Steven had a cock which Boyd loved to keep in his mouth for hours at a time, a cock which sent chills up and down his spine when Steven mounted him and slid it into his ass. Steven did things to places on his body that turned Boyd into a quivering mass of sexual energy.

During the day, with Steven never far from his side, Boyd attended to the business of running the hotel. "My nephew," he'd explain to the guests who asked, using the opportunity as an excuse to give the boy a hug and an uncle-like kiss. "He'll be staying here with me for a while."

At night they made love. Boyd had a hot tub installed on his patio, had more tall shrubs planted so they could bathe together in comfort and privacy, and when summer arrived, lay together naked, have sex under the stars, out of sight of any guest out for a stroll. It was on one such night that Steven ejaculated a small amount of sperm into Boyd's mouth for the first time.

Boyd was delighted. He'd been eagerly awaiting this milestone event since discovering a single pubic hair growing in Steven's crotch. He even considered how he might sleep with the boy's penis in his mouth in case he had a wet dream.

"I did it, Uncle Bill, I did it!"

"Yes you did," Boyd replied after taking a few moments to savor the complex taste and creamy texture of the boy's semen. "You're a man now, its official. And you know what else, lad?" Boyd took the boy in his arms, hugged him close and kissed him tenderly. "Now that you've cum in my mouth," he said with a big smile. "I am officially a cocksucker."

"You're not, Uncle Bill," Steven protested to the man he had grown to love and trust. The only man who had never used him for sex then cast him aside like so much trash. Steven kissed his way down Boyd's body and brought Boyd's cock to his lips. "Not you, Uncle Bill, me. I'm the official cocksucker at Boyd Island Resorts."

CHAPTER FIVE

They made love again in the morning. Boyd reluctantly left the boy in his bed, the sweet taste of sperm in his mouth, to deal with an urgent guest matter.

"Hurry back, Uncle Bill."

Sanford Peterson, a wealthy businessman and frequent guest, was pacing outside his office when he arrived.

"Sandy, come in and sit down. How are you?"

"Fine, Bill, fine," Sandy said, taking a seat. A curious look on his face.

"And Charlotte?"

Sandy frowned. "The bitch is fine. Out looking at birds like she always does when we come up here. You were smart not to remarry, Bill. I'd divorce the frigid bitch if I didn't have to give her half my business."

Boyd thought about Steven, all naked and warm, waiting for him in bed. "Your message said it was urgent."

Sandy moved his chair closer to the desk. "You ever been to the Far East? Thailand?"

"Uh, no. Europe once, but I haven't been to Asia. Why do you ask?"

"Thought you might have, forget I asked. I just got back from a business trip, stopped in Bangkok to check out a new supplier. Had a very interesting experience while I was there...a very interesting and very enjoyable experience."

"Yes?" Boyd said, wondering what was so urgent and what this had to do with the hotel.

"Had an interesting experience last night too, Bill, walking past your villa. The hot tub's new, isn't it?"

Boyd could only nod as an icy fear spread out from his gut.

"I'll get right to the point you old fox. I want Steven!"

"What?"

"The boy, your supposed nephew...the official cocksucker at Boyd Island Resorts. Yeah, I heard everything, saw enough too. I'll pay, like I paid for the kid in Bangkok, but I want him. I want Steven in my bed."

Sanford rose and began to pace. "I'm no homo, ask any of the broads I've been married to, but I never had sex like I had with that Asian boy. I can see by the look on your face that you know exactly what I'm talking about."

Peterson paused to catch his breath. "I'll give you five hundred dollars to have him for the night."

Boyd shook his head, to stunned to speak. The door to his office opened and Steven walked in as Sanford Peterson increased his offer. "Okay, a thousand. A thousand bucks if Steven will have sex with me."

"Absolutely not," Boyd told Steven as they cuddled in bed that night. "Not for a thousand, not for a million. Not for anything. I don't care if I lose the hotel, I will not have you sleeping... having sex with Sanford Peterson."

Steven slipped out of bed in the middle of the night to keep the secret appointment he had made with Mr. Peterson. He didn't like going against Boyd's wishes, but he saw the growing stack of bills that had to be paid and the nasty letter from the bank. One more man, a dozen more men who wanted to have sex with him, a hundred men using him like a whore the way he used to be used meant nothing if Uncle Bill got to keep his hotel.

Steven confessed in the morning so Boyd wasn't surprised when the Petersons checked out and Sandy told him to add the thousand to his bill.

"Worth every penny," he said handing Boyd his platinum credit card. "The kid sucks dick like a pro. You're a lucky man, Bill. He did things to my cock...that ass, shit, I got a hardon just thinking about last night."

Boyd, more jealous than angry, said nothing as he turned to the computer and brought up the file. He scrolled through the options to code the additional charge, tempted to create a new code which would embarrass the man, take some explaining if somebody saw it on his bill.

"Hospitality," Peterson laughed when he glanced at his bill. "I love it. Tell you something else I loved, just between us? Steven's little cock and balls. Do I look any different to you this morning?"

"No." Boyd answered, giving Sandy a quick glance.

"Well, look again because you're looking at a cocksucker, Bill, an honest to goodness middle aged cocksucker."

Boyd had to laugh at the irony of the man's statement. Sanford Peterson's views on homosexuals were well known at the hotel. If a busboy or waiter even looked gay, there had been a few over the years, Sandy would insist on a change. "Goddamn fags," he'd rant to anyone who'd listen. "Why can't they stay in the closet?"

Steven hadn't mentioned anything about Peterson sucking his penis. "You didn't?"

"Yeah, I did. Twice. Second time from my knees, in front of a mirror no less. You should have seen it, Bill, me with my head between the kid's legs, my cock bobbing up and down like crazy and dripping precum. I felt like a randy teenager again and I looked...I looked like a faggot cocksucker, a horny faggot cocksucker in a cheap porno flick."

Boyd knew exactly what Sandy was talking about. He too had done it in front of a mirror to see what he looked like with Steven's penis in his mouth.

"I was so turned on by the kid, by his dick and balls, watching myself sucking his dick that I even let, shit, who my kidding, I wanted the little fellow to cum in my mouth."

"Quite something, isn't it?" Boyd said with a wink.

"Quite. I never tasted...I'll be back next week, Bill, without Charlotte. Book me a room, will you? Oh, and could you arrange for a bigger mirror?"