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There are conditions of the nerve endings, the like of which your imagination, however fevered, could not hope to evoke.
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LostBoyFla@aol.com Quiddity@megaweb.com Visit my homepage ----> http://www.cybernetics.net/users/phrantic/x8.htm "The Life and Times..."
Chapter 1
"Florida Sheriffs Youth Ranch". Well, that's what the sign said anyway. It sounds kind of nice, doesn't it? Believe me, it's not the kind of place you'd want to send your kids for the summer. The "Florida Sheriffs Youth Ranch" as they like to call it, is actually a boot camp for young offenders.
Don't get me wrong, I'm happy to be here. Maybe not really HAPPY, but it could be a lot worse. You see, I'm 17 years old, and if that gnarled old man who calls himself a judge had gotten up on the wrong side of the bed this morning (or if he hadn't been one of a dozen I saw regularly from the back-side of a glory-hole in the Kiwanis Island restroom) I could easily have ended up doing some real time, in a real prison. They would've eaten me alive.
I like to think I can take care of myself. Shit, I've done it since I was 14, when my mother went to work one day and never came home again. Don't be surprised, it happens all the time. I had a whole house all to myself for a good 98 days...then the fucking bill collectors started showing up. They gave me away, I know it was them. Them, and maybe the fact that I kept forgetting to go to school. People should mind their own business.
On the 99th day Helen from Children's Services showed up at my door. She wanted to know where my parents were and all the usual. I told her my mom got called away on business and she's be back as soon as she could. Helen didn't buy it (it was probably because the electricity was turned off), which was okay because I was starting to get tired of not having my MTV anyway. She took me to a group home for boys. I didn't get my own room, and I didn't want to be in that stupid dorm. So, my first day was my last. I made a deal with my new bunkmate, I'd give him three joints if he'd distract the staff long enough for me to get out of there. Ha! And distract he did. At lights out he started faking some kind of fit. He was rocking back and forth, foaming at the mouth, biting his tongue...the whole bit. He got everyone's attention...and I slipped unnoticed out the front door.
I also met the judge for the first time on the 99th night. After my escape, I tried to get back into my house, just to grab some clothes and stuff, but the guys from the neighborhood had already picked the place clean, man, these boys work fast. I was shit out of luck. No clothes, no money, no nothing. So I start walking, not to anyplace in particular, just walking and thinking. I don't know how long I walked, but I did know that I needed to find a safe place to crash for the night...I was beat. Safe to me was a place where the group home goons wouldn't be able to find me, so I picked the park.
I ducked under the wooden crossrails that were supposed to keep me out and headed down the path. I saw some headlights once, and got spooked so I left the path and started making my way through the woods. I was looking for the bathroom or maintenance buildings where I thought I might find a working faucet, all that walking made me thirsty.
I approached the concrete bathroom as quietly as I could. I didn't need to be caught by some park services employee, if that I happened I knew I'd just end up back at that group home. I squatted in the tall grass on the outskirts of that path and just watched, making sure the coast was clear. It looked cool so I went to the door. I was pretty surprised to find a single key stuck in the keyhole. I remember thinking that some stupid ranger must've forgotten it...how convenient for me!
I turned the key and went inside. I ran my hand along the wall, feeling for the light switch. It was pitch dark. I found it, took a deep breath (I've always been a little scared of the dark), and flipped it on. All alone.
Rubbing my face with my hands, I walked over to the line of sinks and turned one on. I let the cool water trickle over my hands for a few minutes, then scooped some up and splashed it on my face. Thirsty, I put my mouth to the faucet and drink. It tasted like shit, but when you're thirsty, you're thirsty.
I looked around the bathroom and noticed a crumpled up magazine shoved in the top of a trash can. The thing was overflowing with trash and the magazine was just peaking out of the metal flap. Ah, it was my lucky night. It was a porno magazine called "Honcho". My favorite kind, full of really hot, masculine, men...not those hairless little bastards most gay mags had in them. I decided I was going to have a seat in the stall, light up a joint, and let my imagination run wild.
I was only halfway done with the joint I was smoking when I heard the damned door creak open. I thought I was fucked for sure, I knew it was the cops, and I knew I was busted. It must have looked like an "I Love Lucy" episode. I was trying to stuff my rock-hard cock back in my jeans, hide the porno mag, fan the smoke from my joint, all the while burning my fingers trying to put the damned thing out.
You can probably imagine how shocked I was when instead of my stall door swinging open with a big dumb cop standing there, I heard someone shuffle into the stall next to mine and lock the door. I sat there for a few minutes, I know I didn't move, and I don't even think I breathed. The next thing I know, this guys dick pops out of this hole that was carved in the side of the stall and right in front of me. I guess I started giggling. It was a combination of the pot, and well shit...I just had never seen anything like that before. He must have heard me laugh because that dick disappeared so fast from that hole that I almost thought I imagined the whole thing. Except that the dick was replaced by this guys eye. He was sitting there looking at me. Not really at me, but rather at the way the tip of my cock was still sticking up over the band of my briefs and my open jeans.
It seemed like a long time. We both just sat there. Then the guy says one thing, "Keep going". I was thinking, no way, this guy wants to watch me jerk off? Fuck him, the old pervert! Then the eye disappeared, and I heard some rustling noises. I started to get scared, and was just about to bolt when two fingers with a $20 bill pinched between them popped through the hole. He didn't say another word, just gestured with his fingers, teasing me with the cash. What the fuck, I thought with a shrug, and grabbed the money.
There was that eye again. So I decided to give the old guy his money's worth. I stood up and pulled both my jeans and my briefs completely off. I stood facing that eye in the hole, and spread my legs. The eye got a little wider. Then with one hand, I held my cock up flat against my stomach and used the other hand to gently squeeze my balls. I ran my fingers over them, pulled them down, and squeezed. I couldn't help the little moan of pleasure that escaped me. I was teasing this guy, and loving every second of it.
I let my cock loose and it bounced out in front of me, pointing right towards the hole. I spit in my hand and started sliding my wet hand up and down the length of my cock. I could tell by the movement of the eye that the guy was jerking himself off too, and that just made me hotter. I worked my balls and my cock with both hands. I could hear his heavy breathing over my own, he was really into this scene. I let go of my balls and intertwined my fingers together so my hands formed a hole I could slide my cock in and out of. I spit on my cock again and forced it through the tightness of my hands. I thrusted my hips, driving my cock in and out, my balls slapped against the back of my hands. Sweat started dripping down my smooth body.
I guess I was still pretty nervous because no matter how hot the whole thing was, I didn't feel like I was going to cum. Then the guy behind the wall said to me in this real breathy, almost pleading voice, "Let me help you". With that, I stick my cock through the hole.
My cock was totally surrounded by warmth as he engulfed it. He left his lips sort of loose and gently used his teeth to guide my dick right down his throat. I could feel the head of my cock pressed against the back of his throat, and it vibrating with he little choking noises he made as he gobbled away at me. Then he clamped his lips down tight and started pulling all the way on and all the way off my cock. I thrust my hips forward to meet his mouth and we rocked back and forth this way for about 20 strokes. The I started pounding into his mouth harder and faster as I felt the rush of cum flow up from my groin out the head of my cock. He sucked and sucked hard until every last drop was pumped out of me.
Anyway, that night is pretty memorable for me. It was the first sexual experience I'd ever had with another person (except those ones I had in my mind with all those coverboys from all those porno mags!). And, like I said before, it was also the first run-in I had with the judge. I've had a lot of other run-ins with a lot of other people since then though. Some of them good, some of them bad. As I sit on this bus waiting to find out the drill with 14 other rough looking "youth ranchers", I wonder if this place is going to be some of those good ones...or some of those bad ones.