############################# # # # THE SKATEBOARD KID # # # # Uploaded by Mike Rose # # # # April, 1986 # # # #############################
Of the three young men peddling their bodies under the gold of the early evening sun, figures posed classically against the window-glass of a Santa Monica Boulevard restaurant, I chose the long-haired blond in the middle sunny blond as in my dreams.
Boy with cocky smile; boy with lonely eyes. Toes of one foot curl lovingly around the edge of his sunshine-yellow skateboard; toes of the other hug the sidewalk. Except for his surfer baggies, he's naked. I gulp a shot of evening air and approach.
"Hello." The syllables wobble from my lips. "Hi, man." The kid looks past me, blue eyes aloof. People inside the restaurant stare out, watch the kid sell his flesh, watch me buy it. His competition looks me over, sizes me up. I'm dumb; forget every word of my wellrehearsed speech. I, six feet of bone and brawn, son of tough country, high mountains, quiver like a fawn cornered by wolves.
West hollywood street punks half my size, half my age I'm in their terr tory now, their wilderness. I crawl to them. My skateboarder stud flicks his head, tosses hair out of his eyes, smooths the back of his straight mop with one hand. Sparse armpit hairs bristle; I catch his young-male scent. My nostrils flare a reflex.
"Wanna walk?" I venture.
"Sure, man." He picks up his surfboard. The street is a stud farm. A motley crowd saunters along the sidewalk; gay, straight, cowboy, fairy, hardhat, beach boy, college stud, panhandles, leatherman. More hustlers crawl out to line the store fronts. Blank -faced cops cruise by in blank and white squad cars two to a car knights in a chess
My boy walks high, spine stretched straight, long necked; he's as tall as I am! He smiled, sunlight gilds his head: "Name's Shawn," he says. "Just turned eighteen."
I look at his hair and think of ripening wheat fields rolling endlessly toward a sky the deep blue of Big Bear Lake as a cloud-white stallion glides by on silver hooves.
"I'm Gary," I say.
"You don't look it," he chuckles, lunges away, does a spin, slaloms back. His wheatgold hair fans out; long legs flex; shorts hug his loins like a second skin. "Where are we headed?"
"My hotel, all right?"
"If you got the bread."
"How much?"
"Forty-five to blow me."
"What if you should stay all night?"
He looks me over, ripples lean fingers over his flat belly. Cocky smile.
"One Fifty!"
I chuckles; can't help it. I swat his skinny ass: "Okay."
The desk clerk peers up over his newspaper, gives us the once-over with dead eyes, clears his throat, plunges back into his news. "I should give a damn," his face says. Disinterest? Envy? Up in my room home all this past week - complete with creaky bed, frazzled window shades, bare light bulb hung from a cracked ceiling, I peel down my young love's shorts.
No jockstrap.
Naked now, he stands and displays his nearly vertical, good-sized tool, piss slit gapping like a pretty eye, single tear poised at the tip. I squat down, catch the sticky tear with my tongue, think of spring water in the sunshine. I kiss his belly so lean that the striations of his abdominal ridges mesh and dance with his slightest movement. I lick out his navel, nibble his golden groin curls, nuzzle his ripe nuts.
Hi love muscle flexes, "Suck me, I'm hot."
His rod is a fat nine inches, curving up and hugging his belly. I kiss it. I squeeze his grapefruit-sized buttocks, made for my hands. I slide my fingers up and down his crack, tickle his pucker. Moist, warm, it nips at my fingertip.
Shawn wraps his arms around my head, "Come on, man. Suck it!"
I close my eyes, hold my breath, swallow up his dick. It's real. Shaft arteries flutter against my upper lip. Bloated head strokes my throat. I churn my tongue. Our pricks throb in unison. "Yea, man, suck it!" Cum bubbles against my tonsils. Shawn dances on his toes. Cum slides into my belly. I cream over his shins. We groan together. Cum trickles over his instep, runs down between his dirty toes. When it's all over, I kiss his knees, get off mine and head for the john down the hall. In the john I fill a white enameled pitcher with warm tap water, then stand at the trough and take a piss. A crewcut kid walks in He's stark naked and doesn't give a damn he stands next to me, maybe some military kid on leave. He looks me up and down, reaches over and fingers my half-hard cock. "Nice," he says. "ten inches hard, I'll bet." He glides to his knees, tugging down my jockeys and goes at my hanging meat like a calf going at a tit. Urinals flush. The kid beats his meat. He's a damn good cocksucker; my cock stiffens up again and I'm ready to blow my nuts in a minute. "No," I say and pull him up. "No?" He looks like a whipped puppy. I slide down his belly and gobble up his thick hose. He coos. His dick jerks. Just a few sucks and he's ready to unload. He humps my mouth, mutters fuck-words. I drill my middle finger up his asshole. He gibbers, arches his back, spurts his hot, sweet load. Wish he had more. As the kid pumps out his last spurts of tasty cum, a goodlooking guy my own age walks in, pulls out his cock and starts to beat off. We ignore him. The kid pulls me up, rubs against me. "Thanks," he says. "Wanna come to my room now?" We kiss. My dick squirms. "I would," I say, "but I've got company tonight." He trails his fingernails up and down my back, "I like threesomes." His eyes have that longing look. I think how handsome, almost pretty, he is. "Sorry," I say. "Really." As I leave the john, the kid is going down on the other guy. The kid's dick is stiff again and he's beating it. Back in the room, Shawn sits on the edge of the bed, leans back on his elbows, cute ass hugging the edge of the mattress, grubby feet in a washbasin on the floor. His soft dick curls over his plump nuts succulent fruit in the bowl of his lap. I soap his soles and between his toes, scrub his feet free of grime. He squirms, complains, but I can tell he loves it. The hair on his legs stand up. I take my time. "Feel good?" I smile at him. "When you're not tickling me, man." He wiggles his toes and grins. When he forgets himself his smile is beautiful. He studies me. "Man, you're really built. You lift weights or what?" "Yes, I do lift weights, but I've worked as a construction worker since I was seventeen: Northern California, Oregon, Lake Tahoe, Nevada, mostly." "No kidding?" His eyes widen for a moment, then narrow. "I'm form south of here Newport Beach. Not much to do there: surf, smoke dope, fuck dudes and broads." I frown intentionally, "Fuck broads?" He frowns back, "Hey, man, I'm bisexual. Thought you knew that." "How would I know that?" "Shit, man, I'm just doing a job in this town, making a living." "Getting your cock sucked?" "Fuck, man, you know a better way?" I shrug; if I were in his place maybe I'd be asking the same question. I rinse one foot, kiss the instep. Water drips from his toes clean and pink now. I suck each toe, one at a time. His cock flips up, slaps against his belly. I grin. "Feels good, huh?" "Sure, man" His tone is coller now; I've ruffled his bisexual- male plummage. He scratches his balls. "I suppose you'll be scrubbing my nuts next." I shake my head. "I like 'em smelling just the way they are." He blushes, stares at the window shade, shakes his head as if I'm hopeless. I move up and lick his nuts, kiss the underside of his cockhead. A few nibbles at the magic spot under his cockhead and he groans spontaneously. He's mine again. I jacknife his legs, pin them to his shoulders, kiss his exposed perineum, nibble up and down his asscrack.
Wonderful boyish scent! I think of pitch on fir cones, pineforest loam, needles dripping with rainwater. I rim his pucker a beautiful daisy. I stretch him out long on the mattress, nuzzle his armpits, suck his nipples. I trace his square pecs and the clean segments of his belly muscles with the tip of my tongue. I lift his cock and lick out his navel. He squirms and giggles. I stretch out on top of him. His eyes are closed. We're belly to belly, mouth to mouth. Our cocks lie side by side, trapped between our guts. Through parted lips we share the same breath. Our tongues touch. I taste his saliva. I move up and stradle his neck. My cock twitches against his lips. My nuts dangle under his chin. His nostrils flare a reflex. His tongue sneaks out from between his lips, nips the underside of my cockhead. He's had a taste. His mouth gapes. My cock slides in. He suck beautifully, eyes crossed. "You've done this before, "I say. His eyes uncross. He spits out my cock. "Shit, man, what guy my age ain't sucked some cock. It's part of growing up. Read your psychology books." "You seem to enjoy it." "Yea, well so what if I do enjoy making love with guys?" I bop him on the mouth with my dickhead, then flip him over. He bends easy as a rag doll. I spread his long legs, kiss his buttocks, nibble up and down his willowy spine. I rub his back muscles, lift his hair and check his neck. He flashes with goosebumps. As I mount him, he sinks into the mattress. "I want you," I whisper. Silence. Deep breathing but not a word. I grease his asshole with cream, massage it in, wiggle a finger up his butthole. He squirms, sinks deeper into the mattress. As I polish his prostate, he gibbers into the sheet. I grease my cock. "Relax, little brother." Alongside his shoulders I entwine my fingers with his his long and slender, mine thick and muscular. I blow into his ear. His cheek blushes like a ripe peach. As my lips press against his hot face, my cockhead finds his asshole. His ass wiggles. I slide my dick into him all the way. We groan together. "Shit, man, it's in me." He arches his back, cranes his neck. I knead his belly muscles, pinch his stiff nipples. He gnaws my jaw. Our legs entwine. He sinks back into the mattress. "I love you," I whisper and start humping like a wild man. "Oh, fuck! Oh, fuck!" He moans and squirms all over the mattress. I ride him like a bobcat, teeth sunk in his neck. Metal bed legs hammer on the wood floor. Bedsprings scream. All the hotel can hear but I don't give a shit. "Fuck, man! Oh,shit, fuck my ass!" "I love you!" "Shoot, man!" No use saying that, there's no way I can hold it. Up his ass I spurt my biggest load ever, squirt after squirt as his asshole throbs and his prostate pumps like a bellow. "Shit, man, I'm coming too." Tears roll down his cheek. I kiss them off. When we're both done, I lap up his cum. Later, his head lies on my shoulder, nose nestled in the dark curls of my chest hair. His fingers trail up and down my belly. I pet his hair, kiss his forehead. "How was it?" "Never thought it would feel like that good, I guess." He sits up, leans against the headboard, picks at a scab on his knee. "How did it happen, man" "You wanted it I gave it to you. So, again, how are you feeling, Shawn?" "Weird. Never had a cock up my ass before." He looks away; silent for awhile. "here you living, man?" "This summer, Lake Tahoe. Got a house." "You live alone?" I nod my head,"Unfortunately." I sit up next to him, drape my arm around his shoulder. "Sure would be nice, though, having somebody like you around." I pull him toward me, hold him tight. "Come with me tomorrow when I leave. Stay in the mountains as long as you like." He looks thoughtful. "What would I do up ther, man?" "Swim, fish, climb, hike, tan your ass whatever you want. No worries; I'd take care of you." He gives me the cool blank stare. "I'll think about it, man. I like you a lot, Gary I enjoy being with." He pulls on his cock, rubs his nuts. "Hey, man, this is getting too heavy. Suck my cock or something." He waves his cock at me. It stands up in a second. He looks at me with those distant blue eyes. "Enjoy me before I disappear," they seem to say. I drag him by the ankles to the center of the mattress. I fold his knees up against his ears, stand him on his shoulders. His asshole glistens like a pink rose. I kiss it ... slide my cock inside him. He jerks his cock, staring at the ceiling. His eyes are glazed. He's no longer thinking, just feeling. My cock throbs inside him while his cock throbs in his pumping fist. He's all ass and cock now, flushed, on fire. I fuck long and slow. I'll make it last all night forever, I think. He beats off to the lazy rhythm of my fucking, takes his time building to a climax. At the verge of orgasm, he drops his prick, holds his breath ... I stop humping. His loin contractions taper off. We both sigh, relieved: now we can be one. We fuck this way for an hour, two hours. We cover every position in the book, then start over. Each time he nears his climax, he holds back. He gets so into the fucking that soon he forgets his cock entirely, lets it twitch against his belly untouched, revels purely in the sensation of my cock slipping in and out of his ass. He loves it this golden haired street surfer boy who calls himself bisexual. We dance together. Our loins move independently of our torsos and legs. Fuck like finely tuned machines. He's the best fuck I've ever had: they were made for each other, my cock and his ass. We're one inseparable. Finally, we doze off, my cock still up his ass. I lift his hair and lap at his sensitive neck. He murmurs in his sleep, stretches awake. His cock flips up and he rubs it. "Feels good, man." The boyish, sleepy tone of his voice nearly sets me off. "I'm fucking you," I whisper. "I know, man, think I can't tell when I've got a big dick up my ass?" He wiggles his behind. This night will go on forever, I think, as I drift off to sleep. I wake up to find him gone.... I still see him late at night in my mind's eye after I drift into that stupor dream trance; we are together again, stretched out in front of the fireplace; we embrace; kiss, and share a misbegotten dream of love which escaped after our passions that marvelous night in California.