Paulie

Paulie, Chapter 2

Paulie
By Toni Philips

This story is completely fictional. Any similarities to any persons or events, past or present are purely coincidental. This story will contain scenes which involve sexual situations. If this type of material is offensive to you, or it is not legal for you to be reading this type of material, then please stop reading now. This story is copyright © 2007 by Toni Philips. Please do not copy this story for distribution or post on any online server without the author's permission. Please send all your comments to: janeebest@yahoo.com. Thanks and enjoy the story.

Chapter 2

After walking out of George's apartment, I felt a pang of hunger, and decided to spend some of my mom's money. Then I realized that I didn't even I know how much it was. I dug into my pocket and pulled the folded money out.

Twenty dollars?! Twenty fucking dollars; the bitch expected me to live off of twenty dollars. I guess I'll worry about money later. I walked to the nearest diner, "Pops." I found a seat in a somewhat secluded area, and waited for a short older looking woman to take my order. She had a crackly voice, as if she smoked, and she wouldn't take me pondering the menu for long. "Look, kid, how about you try the tomato soup and a grilled cheese?"

I nodded, and she quickly scribbled that down and walked away. While waiting, I decided that because I had no where to go and this was a 24 hour diner, I'd stay here. It's not like anyone would notice if I `accidentally' fell asleep after eating. Damn, what am I gonna do?

I didn't have long to dwell on that thought, as the smell of the food nearing dwarfed my worries, if only temporarily. She tenderly placed the soup on the table and the sandwich soon followed. It only took, I'd say, five minutes to down my meal, and the only reason the time wasn't shorter is because the soup burnt my tongue on the first sip.

When the waitress came back to take my bowl, she told me the total was $7.50. Shit. I can't keep eating here. I dug into my pocket, gave her the twenty, and soon after she came back with my $12.50 change. There's no way this money could even last me a day. I stuffed the money into my right pocket and walked up to the old waitress. I tapped her shoulder, and she turned with a hoarse, "Huh?"

"Uh, ma'am..." I tried my polite voice and toothy smile- it worked every time. "Is there anyway I could get an application to work here?"

It doesn't seem she bought my act one bit. "How old are you, 12?" I didn't think I looked that young and I told her so. "I'm fifteen, ma'am."

"Well, we don't want no people comin' down here sayin' we broke those darned child labor laws, and well, you aint old enough. Come back in a year, kid." She turned and walked away, not knowing she was probably my only way of getting any type of money.

* * *

After wandering around the small city for a while, I decided to head back to the warm diner. When I walked through the door, a bell chimed, and all attention was turned to me. I hadn't noticed how rugged my shoes and jeans looked until I saw a mother staring sympathetically at me. I hurried to the same seat I sat in earlier, and the same old waitress came over. "Back again?"

I replied smartly, "Still here?" She grinned and I think I heard her mumble that she liked me. I inwardly smiled; at least one person liked me. She probably wouldn't if she found out I'm gay. By clearing her throat, she jarred my self-conversation.

"What would you like?" She saw me reaching for the menu and said, "And don't you dare look at that darn menu again." I drew my hand back and waited patiently for her to propose something.

Moments later, the waitress said, "Okay, kid. How about you get the same thing?" She paused for my response. I nodded my approval, and she said, "Okay, well, my shift's over, so this here Jenny will help ya." She called out Jenny's name, and soon after, the most beautiful girl walked out of the kitchen. She had long, flowing brown hair, and a smooth tan complexion. Her eyes were light brown and green, and she had a voluptuous figure. She had wide hips, a small waist, and large breasts; or in other words, she had a coke bottle figure. Even in her waitress uniform, one could tell she was gorgeous.

I was still admiring her looks when she walked up and asked for my order. Actually, it seemed as if she asked more than once, because when I started paying attention, both waitresses were looking at me like I was crazy.

I cleared my throat. "Uh...sorry." I gave my million dollar smile. "I would like tomato soup and a grilled cheese." She diligently wrote my order down, smiled, and walked back into the kitchen.

Even after she left, I had a goofy grin on my face, which didn't go unnoticed by the waitress. She gave me a crooked grin. "So ya like her, eh?" I didn't even have to tell her that Jenny was fine. She just smiled, and said, "Yup. All the guys go crazy over her."

I wanted to tell her that I go crazy over all the guys, but I held my tongue. I just let her think I had a crush on Jenny. I mean, she's fine, but I'm strictly gay. I can appreciate a beautiful woman every once in a while, though, right?

The old waitress left as soon as Jenny placed my food on the table. I devoured my food in a matter of minutes, and soon I rested against the booth I was in. As I was sitting, I remembered that I only had five dollars! I couldn't even get me another tomato soup and sandwich. I decided right then that I would do whatever it took to get me a job...tomorrow. Tonight, I'll just sleep right in this booth.

* * *

I opened my eyes and saw an old man above me. It startled me half to death, and I realized he was shaking me. I groggily jumped up and pushed his hands off of me. I wiped me eyes, and with heavy lids, I asked what was going on.

The old man started yelling at me, saying that I had to get out. Then the old waitress came and spoke to the man. I could hear him saying, "Gloria! You know I don't like no hobos!" I could see she was soothing him, then she shooed him away. Moments later, she walked over to me. She said, "Kid, you can't just sleep in someone's restaurant. It scares customers. No one wants to be around a hob-" She stopped herself from saying hobo. "A...homeless person." She looked at me with pity that angered me. I didn't need her freakin' pity!

I looked up at her angrily. "If you want me to go, I will." I got up and started walking out, but at the door, I paused and yelled, "And I'm not fucking homeless! I have a home!" I thought, "Fags just can't live there." I walked out of Pop's Diner.

* * *

I walked around the city until ten at night looking for jobs. Either the place was full or I was too young. So now, I find myself back at Pop's Diner. When I walked through the door, Gloria just smiled like she knew I would be back. I guess I'm predictable.

I walked over to my usual booth that surprisingly already had my order hot and ready there. I inwardly smiled, sat, and start downing my food, when a shadow cast over the table. I looked up and an older man in his thirties in a sports coat and pants said, "Hey, is there room here for one more?" I looked around and saw at least half a dozen empty booths. Why'd he want to sit here?

I guess my confusion showed on my face, because the man said, "Yeah, I know it's empty, but I'd like to talk." Like to talk? I shrugged and he sat.

I continued eating my sandwich and the man took that as his signal to start talking. "Are you homeless?"

I stopped eating. "No, I'm not homeless. Who the hell are you?" Yeah, I know I was hostile, but the guy came up and started asking questions like he was the CIA.

He didn't seem phased by my aggressiveness. Instead he asked another question, "Are you sure?" I raised an eyebrow. "Look, kid, I've seen you wandering around town looking all pitiful, asking people for jobs." My anger started to grow once more. "I was just wondering if maybe you wanted to make your own money, instead of begging for others'." That piqued my interest, and the anger seemed to subside.

"Make my own money?"

He smiled at my interest and continued, "Yeah. You could make $1000 a night depending on how good you are."

That really got me hyped. "A thousand dollars?! Doing what?"

He shrugged one shoulder. "Uh...blow jobs, fucks, whatever. You'd just be a call boy." By now I had finished my meal, and my mouth was hanging slightly open. A call boy? He meant sell my body to old guys who couldn't get any?

I shook my head. "No thanks. I would never sell anything as precious as sex." I still hold sex on a pedestal, although George used and abused it. No way would I ever give my virginity up to some old guy.

He handed me card that said: DARRYL REEDS and his cell-phone number. "Soon hunger will get you like everyone else. Call me." He walked away, and I realized that I didn't have enough money to pay for my meal.

I looked worriedly at Gloria, who seemed engrossed in her job. While her back was turned, I slipped out of the diner into the cold night. I walked until my legs were tired, which happened to take place in a park. I sat tenderly on a bench, and deciding that it wasn't too hard, I laid down to sleep.

* * *

When I woke up, I saw a little kid staring at me like I had three heads, and a mother pulling that same kid away from me like I was some sort of devil. At that moment I took notice of my ripped jeans, torn shoes, and filthy shirt. I looked even more of a mess!

I walked to the nearest bathroom for a better look. My reflection looked worse than I thought it would. My eyes were bloodshot from lack of good sleep. My once curly, light hair seemed dark and tangled.

I looked closer at my body. It looked as if I got slimmer, but that couldn't be, because this was only my third day on my own. Actually, both of those other days, I had meals, so why am I thinning?

I left the question unanswered, and walked into a stall to relieve my almost bursting bladder in private. After I locked the door, I pulled down my pants and boxers. I took a hold of my soft cock, and thought, "Am I hungry enough to sell you and your partner- ass?" On the outside I laughed, but on the inside I cringed about what I might have to do for food.

I peed and walked back to the bench I slept on to think. Where do I go from here? I can't go back to Pop's Diner, because by now, Gloria should know I stole my meal.

Thinking about the diner got my stomach growling. I looked around, searching for anywhere else to eat. I walked around lazily, enjoying the weather, and hating the fact that I'm here alone...and hungry.

I seemed to stumble upon MacShonalds, a local burger joint. I went to the ordering counter, and after checking out the menu (and the cashier), I ordered a burger from the "dollar and fifty cents" menu. I paid, got my food, and found a booth to sit in. The booth was nowhere near as comfy as my one at Pop's diner, but was way better than the bench I slept on in the park. After a few minutes, a shadow cast over my table. Wow, this is getting so old.

I looked up, and was relieved that it wasn't the pimp, but troubled that it was George. After an awkward silence, George spoke. "Paulie-"

I cut him off by snapping back, "Don't call me that."

His shoulders slumped, and he said, "Okay, well, Paul..." He looked up for my approval. I nodded, and he continued. "Can we talk?" Why do people want to talk to me so much now? Jeez, just because I'm a homo-hobo doesn't mean I want to talk. I told him to sit anyways.

He sat across from me, and we just stared into each other's eyes. This time I spoke first. "Why are you here, George?"

"It's not like I followed you, Paul! I just saw you eating alone, so I stopped by. I was just wondering about you."

"Don't waste your time."

His eyes begged me to listen, but why should I listen to that cheater? It's not like he could change in two days. My assumption was correct, because I soon saw a little man with dark hair and intense green eyes walk up to the table. He asked "George, babe" if he was ready to go, to which George replied "in a little, sweetie."

That "romantic" talking made me sick to my stomach. George was never as sweet to me as he is to that little...piece of crap! I stopped ranting in my head when George began talking again. "Paul, if you need a place, you can stay with Bill and me."

That just made me more disgusted. They're already living together?! "Was that the guy you slept with?!" I blurted that out before my mind could even register it. Although my mind was registering, my eyes took notice of the emotions that flashed across George's face: panic, fear, guilt, then, surprisingly, anger.

He lashed out, "You're still the same! You're so fucking retarded!" His language got him strange looks from the older customers and smiles from the younger. He continued, "I try to help you, and you play the victim! Get over yourself, Paul!" He got up and left. I was alone in a booth, which now seemed to be a recurring theme in my stupid life.

* * *

Around 10:30, I was kicked out, because MacShonalds was closing. Now, fifteen minutes later, I stand in the same spot: a foot in front of the entrance. The whole fifteen minutes, I've been standing with my right hand in my pocket, fingering the card that the pimp gave me. With my lip bit down and my brow furrowed, I tossed around the idea of prostitution in my head.

Of course I'm hungry as hell and my body is begging me not to sleep on the bench in the park. Where will I go?

I started walking away from the entrance. After a few minutes of walking, I saw a pay phone. I bit my lip. It's now or never; food or hunger, life or death. Maybe I'm being a little dramatic, but that's how it feels to me. I either make this call, or die.

I tentatively walked closer to the phone booth, grabbing the phone. I slowly placed it next to my right ear, listened for the dial tone, and then dialed Darryl Reeds' number.

After three rings, a husky voice said, "Who's this?"

I slowly and nervously answered, "P-Paul. I met Darryl at Pop's Diner..."

Long moments passed, and I could heart my heart pounding in my chest. Finally, the guy said, "Ohh...the kid with the curls!"

I smiled a little, and my heart rate slowed. Thank God he remembered me! "Yeah- yeah, that's me. I, uh..."

"Wanted to take up my offer?" I could hear the cocky grin in his voice. I nodded, although he couldn't see me. Without a verbal answer, he responded, "Alright, tell me what you see." I looked around and saw MacShonalds, Starbucks, Wal-Mart, and many other shops. I told him so. He replied, "Alright kid, I'll pick ya up. Stay right there!" The phone disconnected.

* * *

After about fifteen minutes, a black Cadillac Escalade rolled to a stop a foot in front of me. I walked cautiously to the driver window. The window rolled down until I saw the man I met at Pop's Diner before me.

I was nervous, and I think he could tell. He said, "Alright kid, get in the car." I was a little scared, but what could I lose?

I got into the back seat of the truck, and the car started moving. As he drove, the man spoke. "I'm gonna take ya back to the house so you can get out of those damned dirty clothes. Then we'll head out to the grocery store." The grocery store?!

"Uh, Mr. Darryl?" He grunted a `what?' and I continued, "Why are we going shopping?"

He let out a hearty laugh. "Kid, grocery store is sort of a code name for the place where we meet the guys. Ya know...sell your ass!" He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, which made me feel dumb.

Silence now occupied the truck. I used it to go over my life and my new decision. I decided that I was only going to sell my body if I absolutely needed the money. No way am I gonna become a crack whore like my cousin. Plus, I'm only 15! I still have the rest of my life, and I'm not going to waste it just because my parents turned out to be prejudiced.

The car took a sharp turn then stopped. Darryl got out of the car, and I mimicked him. We then walked down an alley, and then through a dingy green door. Behind the dingy door, though, was a beautiful front room. With black leather couches, a wide screen TV, and awesome game systems.

Daryl could see I was surprised and told me to close my mouth before a fly flew in. I didn't know pimps had senses of humor. I told him so. I was surprised by his anger.

"I'm no pimp! I help fuck-ups like you!" Just then a boy who seemed around my age walked out of one of the back rooms. He was around my height with short dark brown hair. His skin was slightly tanned, and his clothes were sort of tight. When Darryl saw him, he told him to take care of me- the new kid. I guess he was tired of me. Well who isn't?!

The boy walked over to me and started talking, "I see you've already pissed D off." He was smiling, so I knew it was just a joke. We laughed. He then said, "Well, uh...let's get you cleaned up...?" He trailed off as a way of asking my name.

I answered, "Paul."

"Alright, well, Paul, let's get cleaned up." He led me to a down a hall into a bathroom. He left me there for a second, the reappeared with a towel, toothbrush, wash cloth, deodorant, soap, shampoo, and an outfit. I was wondering about the toothpaste, but I glanced over at the sink and there was already a tube there. He handed me everything then left me to take a shower.

After turning the shower on as hot as I could take it, jumped in, lathered up the washcloth, and began to clean myself. I did a thorough job; I spent several minutes cleaning my torso and back, then I slowly slipped down below my waist. With a soapy hand, I grabbed my dick and began cleaning it. Fifteen years of life gave me an average sized cock that was five inches soft. With my left hand, I grabbed my dark, long hanging balls and lathered them up.

It didn't take much for me to get hard. After a few long sensual strokes, I popped a nice woody. I ran my washcloth down my crack softly, letting it only graze my hole. Soon some old wrinkly guy's dick will be pumping this tight hole. The thought made me shudder...and lose my boner. Oh well.

After re-cleaning my body and shampooing my hair, I stepped out of the shower into the steamy room. I dried and did the necessary things for me to become clean. Afterwards, I could finally recognized "Paul" instead of "that hobo from Pop's Diner." I smiled.

* * *

I soon found out the cute dark-haired boy was David. At the moment, we're sitting in his room, waiting for D to take us "grocery shopping." I'm a nervous wreck.

David looked over at me and smiled. "Nervous?"

I nodded feverishly. "I've never done this before."

"Just act like it's regular sex."

My condition worsened. "I've never had sex!"

David's deep blue eyes widened a little, and he let out a small, "ooh.." After a moment, a smile crossed his face. "I'll teach you some moves then." He then moved closer, about an inch away from my face. His left leg was between my legs and he dove in for a kiss. He started out slow, with his lips barely touching mine. I pressed my face harder into his and we were soon making out like crazy!

I felt his tongue trying to break into my mouth, and I allowed it. Our tongues danced and I'm sure he tasted the toothpaste from earlier with all the exploring he's doing. God, he's such a good kisser.

I didn't even notice the raging boner his mouth produced, until I felt his hand inch its way towards it, eventually covering all of it.

His hand and tongue caused me to moan. He started to rub me through my jeans, and I felt like I could climax right then!

To my dismay, he stopped kissing me. I almost yelled at him to start again, but I felt his mouth on my neck, and couldn't speak. His tongue snaked over the coils of my neck, and around my jaw. I almost creamed pants!

I was whimpering like crazy, while David was breathing hard. I began moaning his name softly. He responded by pressing my mound harder and rubbing faster than before. I licked around my Adam's apple, and I lost it; I came all in the jeans he gave me.

When I came down from my orgasmic high, I saw David smiling back at me. I couldn't help but notice the bulge in his pants. I cringed; I had forgotten all about him!

He saw my face and started calming me down, "It's ok, Paul. Actually, it's great that I didn't cum." I looked at him like he was crazy. He smiled then continued, "I want to prepare you for tonight." It all dawned on me. He didn't want me looking retarded in front of my customer, so he was teaching me how to please. "Is it ok if I teach you?"

I nodded, and he began stripping. While taking off his clothes, he said, "There are many types of customers out there, Paul. Some want submissive boys, while others want boys to dominate them. Actually you may even come upon some that want you to be their son! But either way, you have to know how to play your role. Pay attention to the guy and find out what he wants. If he wants you to cry, cry! Just do whatever he says, because he'll pay more and will most likely return."

By now he had stripped, and was walking towards me. His cock was inches from my face, pointing upwards. "Now, Paul..." he began, "Some will want you to suck their dick. Grab it. Yeesss...that's it. Now stroke it. Mmhmm. Use your other hand to rub my balls. Fondle them. Uhhh...yeah, that feels great. Now lick my slit. Wrap your lips around my head. Oh yeeahhh...Now gently take more of my dick. No teeth! Yeah, take more." I gagged. "Alright, either you relax your throat, or don't try to deep-throat. I did the latter. I was getting into the motions of sucking his dick, when out of nowhere he pushed me down on the floor.

While on my back, he leant over me, and aimed his cock at my virgin hole. "Most guys will wanna fuck you. You gotta know how to take even the biggest of cocks." He then pressed his thick head at my tiny entrance. With resistance, the head popped in, and I almost cried. His cock felt so intrusive and big. "Alright, I know this hurts..." Damn right it does! "...But you have to learn. Most guys won't wait for you to get adjusted, they'll just..."and he thrust all of his cock into me. I screamed. Loud.

"GET THE FUCK OFF OF ME!"

He stayed in me, and held my body down. "I'm sorry, hon, but you've got to get used to this. Believe me, I'm helping."

Some of the pain subsided, and he began thrusting into me. After a few minutes, his thrusts felt good, especially when he hit that spot oh so deep in me. Every time he hit it, a gush of pre-cum flowed out of my cock.

Soon, though, his movements sped up and his body grew stiff. I then felt thick fluids flowing in me, and I knew he had cum.

David, a guy I just met, had cum in me. I felt so empty inside, even though it seemed as though a gallon of his juices were within me. I wanted to run home to my family. I wanted to be loved. I didn't want to be the whore I'm quickly becoming.