Warning: the following story contains graphic descriptions of male/male sex between consenting adults. If that sort of thing bothers you, or you are a minor, or it is illegal for you to read this type of content under the laws of your area, don't read any further.
This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual people or events is purely coincidental. Accolades, encouragement, suggestions, comments, and corrections are welcome and gladly accepted. Flames will be utterly ignored. dog_oocl@yahoo.com.au
Chapter 2.
Its unusually hot this Summer, trade had been brisk even during midweek. Too hot to stay at home? Too boring to screw their wives? 2 hand jobs and a blow job landed me over $300 tonight. Not bad for a couple of hours' labor. I dont like the top/bottom routes, too messy, and I especially hated the smell of rubber on my hands and dick. Since starting my rent boy career, if I may call it a career, I had only been screwed once, that was 5 months ago when I first started, and it was the Creep who popped my cherry. He said I was a bit older than his usual taste, but he was charmed by boyish look. Was that a compliment? But the $500 was a real bonus as it set me up with my first week of rent at a boarding house, although not the experience of being screwed first time and by that huge dick of Creep's, the saying of "pain in the arse" became all too real, I certainly earned my $500. The Creep wasnt rough, he was very patient, he rimmed until I was totally relaxed, then piled in enough lubs with plenty of fingering, it was almost pleasurable if it wasnt for that huge dick of his, and the smell of that rubber. Since then, anyone asked how much to fuck me, my price tag: $300, usually it set the tricks off with snickering laughs and some comments like "what, gold plated?" I couldnt imagine myself to be the top either, fancy staring down at a fat and crinkly backside, not to mention the thought of smelly rubber and what else smeared on it. To receive blow job definitely my 1st choice, shut my eyes and think of Bondi? or lately, David.
Sunday, 31st January.
I got up reasonably early this morning, and got to the pay phone at the end of the hall to dial home. My little sister's birthday. I felt guilty for not making more contacts, but it made little sense talking to her, more than often she was drugged to her eyeballs with anti-drepressants. And when she was sober, she often asked what I was doing, and I felt guilty that I had to lied to her. My waitering jobs, my labouring job, my arse. And if mom answered the phone, it broke my heart by hearing the same stories how my dad spent all the dole monies on grog and got violent afterwards, (she never ever once mentioned that she got bashed and never ever considered leaving that bastard). Anyway, no escape today.
Mom answered the phone.
"Oh Josh, I'm so sorry...." then the loud sobbing.
"Calm down, mom, did that bastard bash you again?"
"No, Josh, its your sister"
"What happened, stop crying Mom, just tell me what happened"
"She overdosed last night with anti-depressant tablets, and god know how may Penadols as well", sobbing..."the doctor at the Emergency told me most likely the Penadols killed her" more sobbing
"But why, Mom, why?"
"I think your Dad must have said some nasty things to her night before, as I heard her crying after he left her room"
Only if I had a gun and faced that bastard right now.
All I could remember was that I just put the mouth piece back, then walked out onto the street. It was like dream walking, no sound, no color, a lot of faces staring at you, you were invincible, nothing could hurt you, cars had to avoid you, people had to avoid you.
I kept walking, walking. Suddendly I was woken up by the sound of church bells, I looked around and realised I was next to a church in Paddington. I must have walked for miles from my boarding house to Paddington. I suddenly felt I needed to pray for my sister's soul. I had never been religious, a good God would never have let such nasty thing inflicted on my innocent sis, but today, I will pray, I will ask God to keep a safe and peaceful place for my her.
It wasnt crowded inside, it was dark but with humming sound echoing. I picked the last row to sit down. I saw people knelt and sounded like they were all praying for my little sister. I followed their lead. I could smell frankincense, heard more murmuring, I could see shadowy figures moving around the altar, heard organ music. I felt peace. I just shut my eyes and....
When I opened my eyes, I felt the sting of sunlight. I could see a dark figures hovering over me and called out "Josh, are you OK", was that God, was I going insane and started hearing things? Then it sounded louder, "Josh, please wake up".
Then I saw his face, all my senses started to return. "What happened? David, why were you here?"
"I think you fainted. To answer you second question, I work here. Sit up, have a sip of water"
I was resting on the cradle of his arm and he was holding a glass of water while I was drinking out of it. I could smell a faint frankincense on his robe, felt the strength of his arm under the robe. And I smelled something else, just couldnt name it. Close up I could see his long eye lashes, and deep blue eyes,the sight of Sydney harbour on a clear sunny day. Then, tears just rolled down. Men dont cry, but I just couldnt control myself. David was rocking me gently without saying a word. Minutes passed, I managed to stop crying. Got up and said "Thanks for your help, I think I better go".
"No, I think you should stay, you are in no condition to get out like that, I could put you up for the night at my house, only if you wish, and, and, just until you are OK, and, and, you could tell me what happened, nothing more this time, for sure".
I was hoping for something more. We shall see. He halve carried me towards the back of the church and once more I was sitting next to him in that Toyota, funny how we prostitutes always seem to associate tricks with the cars they drived.
The small house tucked away only few blocks from the church. He opened the car door for me and ushered me inside. It was small but spotless, not much furniture, and a small TV.
"Thanks father"
"Dont call me father, if you wish, you can call me brother"
"Nice place, brother, very clean"
"Yes, church volunteer comes every weekend to help out, could I offer you a juice? thats all I have, please take a sit"
"No, just another glass of water" and I sat and watched him heading towards the kitchen.
"Would you like something to eat? I could make you some scramble eggs and toasts"
I still felt a bit groggy, "No, thanks David, not right now"
He just listened intently for the next hour, with me telling him the story of my short 19 years of life, my love for my sister, my helplessness towards her plight, towards my mom's situation, my hatred towards my dad, my fear of facing my future, all my bravado during our first encounter before Christmas disappeared. Then, I started crying again. Tears that stocked up for the last 19years.
He put his arm around me again, I'd never felt so safe, so content, so, so happy, yes, a happy crying baby. I couldnt remember how it started, one minute I was sobbing and suddenly I was kissing him, or more precisely, we were kissing each other, and I was tearing his clothes off. Dont know who invented those robe, I almost torn the damn thing into pieces. I burried my nose into the dark turf between the nipples, taking in the scent of his sweat, Ah, that was the other smell I couldnt figure out in the church. I followed the dark trail downward, nosing, licking, feeling the dark blue coarse bush, then staring straight at an angry 7 inches. I just gulped it down in one hit, ihe wasnt prepared for the onslaught, I barely had the time to start the real work out, the underside of that monster just throbbed and my filled. It was a strange taste, salty, nothing like mom's gravy served with her rare Sunday roast, but nicer, milder. My first cum tasting, and I did it for love, did I say love? I wasnt really sure as I'd never actually experienced love of another human being before, not from my parents, but maybe the love for my sis was close.
"I'm sorry" "What for" "I came too soon" "We could do it again, you are still hard"
We stared at that 7 inches, it still maintained its spongy firmness, red gland dripping, but hard like hell.
He touched my face gently and said "Thats what I always dreamt how it would feel"
"Thats only half of it, wait for the rest"
Mmm....
(To be continued.)