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Kenny

By: wet_pants



"Got a spare fiver?"

"No."

"Go on. Just a fiver. I'll make it worth your while."

"No."

"Please!"

I had already walked on a couple of paces, but now I slowed and stopped. There was something about that "please". It wasn't what you might expect;- what I had heard before by young boys, and girls, of similar age, who, when they finally realise they are not going to get a penny out of you by accosting you in the street, hurl a mouthful of abuse and epithets at you. This "please" was different. It had a note of real desperation in it. A note of hopelessness, of weariness, and of resignation too, a cry for help not from the twisted and devious mind of a youngster trying it on, but a cry because the mind that uttered the word was at its wits end;- a forlorn, pleading request for deliverance from something. I turned round.

The boy had also turned away and had begun to walk back in the other direction.

"Hey!" I called. He turned and stopped, then came towards me again. He was dressed in grubby jeans and jeans jacket, unzipped as it was a warm evening, with a pale yellow, and also grubby, T-shirt under the jacket which bore the logo "I'm good!" On his feet he wore the de rigeur trainers for a youngster of his age. They had obviously seen better days.

"Yes, Mister?" he queried eagerly. "You got a fiver for me?"

I regarded him for a moment. I am rather tall, and his head just about came up to my chest. He looked quite young, with dark hair and brown eyes which in turn were regarding me hopefully. He had long, dark, rather girlish eyelashes, which made his face look young and innocent. His teeth were even, white, and clean. He was slim, almost thin, and his skin had a faintly dusky look. What surprised me most, however, was the fact that his complexion was completely clear. I had fully expected to be faced with "a wretched, pimply-faced horror" which is what most of his ilk usually looked like. But not this boy. He looked different to the run-of-the-mill rent boys.

He glanced round and lowered his voice.

"I told you I'll make it worth your while. Whatever you want. Hand job, blow job, a fuck? Whatever you want."

I said nothing but continued to watch him while several different thoughts went through my mind. 

"Come on, Mister," he pleaded again. "Only a fiver. You look as if you can afford that." He paused, and when I still didn't answer he said, "Okay. A couple of quid then. But no fucking for that price. Just a hand or blow job. Come on. I haven't eaten since yesterday morning and I'm starving hungry."

He turned his head to look at the hamburger bar across the road, and I followed his gaze. 

"Yesterday morning?"

He nodded. "That's right. And that was just a lump of cold chicken."

"I see," I said. "Come on then."

I led the way across the road and into the hamburger bar. I sensed him following me and as we entered the place I heard him sniffing appreciatively.

"Order what you want," I said.

He ordered a mountain of food -- two cheeseburgers, two hamburgers, a large fries and a drink. I settled for a hamburger and a coffee and we went to sit at a table away from anyone else. At that time of the evening there weren't that many customers anyway, but I didn't want to be near enough to anyone for them to overhear us.

The boy dived into his food and if I'd had any doubts about when he really had last eaten, they were dispelled by the way he attacked the food. He really was very, very hungry. I let him eat for a bit as I finished my own burger.

"So," I murmured eventually, "you're offering me any sex I want for a fiver."

He nodded, his mouth too full to speak.

"The bill for this was double that," I pointed out. "So what else are you offering? Anything else?"

He paused in his chewing and looked at me, then swallowed.

"I can only do what you want," he said. "But this is great! Thank you for this." And he attacked the next hamburger with equal gusto. I sipped my coffee as I watched him.

"How old are you?" I asked him. 

"I'm eighteen," he replied through his mouthful.

"Of course you are," I said conversationally. With that clear, slightly dusky complexion, short dark hair and the slim body, and the fact that he was slightly on the short side, he looked to be about fourteen or fifteen.

The boy sighed, and without stopping his chewing he unzipped the top pocket in his jeans jacket. His none too clean fingers fished inside and he withdrew a folded piece of paper which he held out to me. I unfolded it and read it as he resumed his meal. 

It was a birth certificate, in the name of one Kenneth Noble. Son of father so-and-so and mother thus-and-thus, and if it was to be believed and wasn't a forgery, which I had no way of knowing, then whoever Kenneth Noble was he was certainly eighteen years old. I refolded the paper, something that had obviously happened to it several times in its existence and offered it back to him.

"And who is Kenneth Noble?" I asked him. 

He nodded as if he had expected just such a question next. Once again the grubby fingertips fished inside his pocket and this time they withdrew a passport. Silently he held that out to me.

Whatever I had expected, it wasn't this. I opened the back page, and there, sure enough, was a photo of the boy sitting opposite me. A year or so younger, but unmistakably him. The passport had been issued fourteen months earlier, and still had almost nine years to run.

I handed the passport back to him and he pocketed it with a nod.

"I apologise, " I said. "Lucky you have the passport, but you don't look eighteen."

"I know. It's come in useful sometimes."

He used his fingers and thumb to collect the last remaining crumbs of French fries and ate them. Then he sat back with a contented sigh and started on his cold drink.

"Thank you," he said again. "You have no idea how good that was."

"And what happens now?" I asked. "Having eaten your fill free of charge, you make a beeline for the door and run off down the street?"

"No," he said to me. "I sit here until you either tell me to get lost, or we go somewhere and I repay you for the meal. And your kindness," he added.

A strange feeling went through me. My initial reaction on hearing that "please" from him had been right. There was something different about this rent boy, this youngster, this down-and-out. He was polite, he had manners, he looked and responded as if he had some intelligence, but more to the point, he had actually sat there and said, in his own way, that he was not going to rip me off.

"You don't have to repay me," I said at last. The thought of sex with this boy was turning me on, but, simply because of the way he seemed and the way he behaved, I couldn't bring myself to accept his offers.

"Well, I feel as if I should repay you in some way," said the boy. He leaned forward slightly in his seat and I felt his warm hand on my thigh. He squeezed it very gently and then stroked his fingers up towards my crotch. "People call me Kenny. What's your name?"

I considered whether to tell him for a few moments, but before I could reply he removed his hand, shrugged and said, "Whatever. Listen, Mister. I can tell you're not like my usual tricks. No-one has ever bought me a meal before I've given them what they want. And usually they just pay me and I buy something. What you just did for me means a lot to me. Thank you once again. But let me give you something in return, okay? Do you know somewhere we can go?"

"Yes I do," I said. While he had been talking, several things had chased themselves through my mind, and, depending on the next few minutes, I had decided what I was going to do.

"Take your jacket off and show me your arms," I told him.

He smiled. "Don't touch the stuff, Mister," he said, and proceeded to remove his jacket. He held out both arms and they were as clear as the rest of his skin. Not a bruise or a dot or a track or a puncture mark anywhere. Inwardly, I relaxed a bit. 

"And I don't snort, either, but you'll have to take my word for that."

"Okay," I said. "That just leaves one problem."

He cocked an eyebrow. "What's that?"

"Despite the fact," I began, "that you look young, healthy, have a good complexion and are probably generally in good health, given your --calling--, one might say, you are probably riddled with Aids."

The boy shook his head decisively.

"Not me, Mister. At least, two weeks ago I wasn't."

It was my turn to raise an eyebrow.

"Really?"

Kenny sighed deeply and fished in another pocket of his jacket. Once again he presented me with a folded paper. "This was two weeks ago," he said. "And I've only scored a few tricks since then. And I am always very careful."

The letter, addressed to "whom it may concern", bore the crest and insignia of a major hospital. In a simple, single sentence it stated that as a result of a blood test taken on that day, Kenneth Noble's blood was found to be normal and showed no traces of the HIV virus or any other infectious or known sexually transmitted disease. There was a doctor's signature, an inked stamp from the hospital, and it was dated, as Kenny said, two weeks previously. He was putting his jacket on again as I handed the paper back to him. He refolded the letter and put it away again.

"Apart from the first two times, I've always made sure a trick used a condom if he wanted to fuck me. The other guys warned me I should. They told me I'd live longer that way. And I haven't swallowed any trick, either. So I'm pretty sure I am clean." He sat back and regarded me. "Happier now?" 

I nodded. "Yes." I toyed with my empty coffee cup.

"Kenny, tell me about yourself. Why are you here, doing this? You seem to be intelligent, you speak well, and it seems you look after your body, or have done till now. Why are you a rent boy?"

Kenny sipped his drink.

"Very simple," he said. "My father is from Asia and my mum is English." 

That, I thought, explained the slight duskiness of his skin.

"For a long time," he went on, "my father has always taken every opportunity he could to touch me. More to the point, he also took every opportunity to get me to toss him off. He told me if I told mum he would just deny it and call me a liar. He also tried to get me to give him a BJ several times, but I wouldn't."

Kenny paused and looked out of the window at the busy street, but his eyes were far away, seeing things that were locked in his mind, and only brought out for inspection on rare occasions.

"About four months ago," he continued in a soft voice, "my mum was visiting her sister and was away for a day or two. My father wouldn't leave me alone from the moment she said goodbye to us. I had to toss him off as often as he could get hard again. He kept on about a blow job, but I wouldn't. He came to my room the first night she was away and said if I wouldn't suck him off, he would fuck me instead."

Kenny paused and I knew he was reliving it all in his mind as he explained. 

"In the end I agreed to suck him off because I didn't want him sticking his cock in my ass. He loved it. Half an hour later he wanted it again. In the end, that night, I must have sucked his cock at least half a dozen times. The man's stamina was amazing."

Kenny looked down at his drink and his words became very soft.

"He made me swallow his cum every time." He took a deep drink from his fruit juice, as if it would wash away the memory. There was a silence and I let him finish the torture in his mind. At last he looked up at me.

"The next day he said how good it had been and tonight we would do the same again, but tonight he would definitely want to fuck me as well." The boy sipped his drink and stared out of the window again. "I packed a few things in a bag and went to my mate's house. I wrote a letter to my mum explaining it all and then jumped on a train and came here. I had a little money."

He faced me squarely.

"Not a very nice story," he said. "But the truth. Now, of course, I do all those things without hardly thinking about it. But at the time.....and my own father...." He tailed off and his eyes took on that absent-minded gaze again.

I reached across and gave one of his hands a squeeze.

"I'm really sorry," I said. "You're right -- it's not a nice story. But I can understand you needing to get away."

"Far away," he agreed. 

"Have you never been in contact with your mum since you left?"

"Only a birthday card with a note inside it telling her I was fine and I was okay and I'd got a job and she shouldn't worry." He finished his drink and gave a wry smile. "Not the sort of job she would be thinking about," he admitted, "and of course she will worry," he added. "I know that."

It was my turn to nod. "Yes, of course," I agreed. "Don't you miss your mum?" I asked gently.

"Yes, I do. Very much. I keep a photo of her." He patted a pocket. "I've thought about contacting her, but that would only lead to questions I don't want to answer and pleas for me to come home, but I'm never going back while he's around."

I leaned back and regarded this strange young lad for a while. He seemed content to sit there and watch the world go by outside. 

"Where's your plot?" I asked him.

"Under the railway bridge," he replied absently. "As soon as I got off the train I put my bag in a left-luggage locker." He reached down the neck of his T-shirt and brought out a key dangling on a thin cord, then let it drop back out of sight. "Then I went into the station café for something to eat and I met -- I suppose you could say I was picked up, or recruited by, a young guy called Lee. He told me I could doss down with him if I didn't mind sleeping rough. I'm not stupid. I guessed what he was. He told me it was a good way to make quick money. He could make sixty or eighty pounds a night. He took me round the corner under the bridge and I've been there ever since. He's the only other person I've told the truth of what happened."

"I see," I said quietly. "And after your fa—after your experiences, I suppose it wasn't too difficult.....?"

"The first couple of times were not too easy," he admitted. "Kept seeing my father and not the trick. But after that......" he shrugged expressively and watched me for a few moments. "Why am I telling you these things?" he muttered uncomfortably.

I ignored that. "At that sort of money your mate can soon retire," I said.

He gave a short dry laugh. "Lee's habit costs him almost that much each day," he said.

He watched me silently for a while, then;-

"You said you knew somewhere to go," he reminded me. 

"Yes," I agreed. "Shall we go?"

He collected the remains of our meals and dumped the rubbish in the bin on our way out.

"You were well brought up," I observed.

"Yes," he agreed. "I was. And I had quite a good education too."

"You're not my idea of a rent boy," I told him, and he chuckled.

"And I've told you," he said, "you're not my idea of a trick, either. Something different about you."

"More than you know," I answered. I felt him look up at me as we walked along. He was silent for a while, and then, "What does that mean? You're not into the rough stuff, are you?"

I shook my head. "Not at all."

I could feel the wave of relief that went through him. 

"Good," he said. "I was a bit worried there for a moment. Look."

He stopped, pulled aside his unzipped jacket and pulled up his T-shirt. Across his ribs were two large, angry red weals. He let the T-shirt fall and resumed walking.

"Legacy of the wrong type of trick," he explained succinctly.

"An occupational hazard, I would think," I ventured.

He nodded. "Yes. Maybe I've been lucky up to now. Perhaps because after that I've tried to go for a trick who looked at least half-decent. I know some of the guys who've been beaten up really badly."

"What happened?" I enquired. "If you want to tell me," I added hastily.

Kenny shrugged. "The trick thought it would be fun to rough me up before he fucked me," he said simply. "After he hit me the second time I kicked him in the balls and ran. I went to the hospital because I wanted to be sure the guy hadn't cracked or broken a rib, because it hurt a lot. While I was there I asked if I could have an HIV test. They asked why and I just told them I had a few sexual partners. That letter is the result."

There was another silence for a while.

"Most of the guys carry a knife now," Kenny said suddenly. "I don't. Maybe I should start. One I know has a gun." He shook his head. "Stupid."

He stopped again suddenly and faced me. "Why am I telling you these things?" he said again earnestly. His brown eyes searched my face.

"Maybe you think I'm a good listener," I answered evasively.

"Hmmmm!" was his only rejoinder, and we continued walking. 

"Have you never tried a girl?" I enquired.

He nodded. "Oh yes. I had a girlfriend for a short while, back home. But after sex with her a couple of times I realised I wasn't enjoying it that much. It didn't feel right, somehow." He fell silent and his face took on an introspective look. "I suppose I'd got so used to the feel of a man, the feel of a cock, that a girl did nothing for me."

Another pause, and then he said thoughtfully with a flash of quite adult reasoning, "I suppose you could say my father made me gay."

Silently, I agreed with him. In one way I thought of his father with disgust and revulsion because of the abuse to his own son, but in another way, as I glanced down at his young face and trim body, I was glad Kenny had turned out the way he had.

He didn't ask where we were going, and after about fifteen minutes we arrived at my place. I drew the key from my pocket and opened the front door, gesturing for him to go inside.

"Is this your place?" he asked.

"Yes."

He nodded and looked round. "Nice. Where do we go now?"

I pointed to one door. "You," I told him, "go in there. I,--" I pointed to another door, "--go in there. I'll see you in a while."

Kenny looked at me in puzzlement, and then hesitantly opened the door I had shown him. 

"Wow! A shower!" He turned and looked at me. "Do you know how long it is since I had a shower?"

"A while, I imagine," I said dryly. "Help yourself. I'll see you when you're finished."

Even as I spoke Kenny was throwing his jacket on the floor, pulling the T-shirt over his head and unzipping his jeans.

"Oh, boy!" he exclaimed. "I am going to enjoy this!"

I shut the door and left him to it. I went to the living room and surveyed it. Sitting on the sofa I poured a small drink and sipped it as I thought. I really liked Kenny. I found him very easy to be with. There was something appealing about him and he was certainly sexually desirable. He was handsome, and no doubt given different circumstances, would have been a favourite with the girls. As it was, he could have a good life ahead of him. If he survived that long. If he didn't get beaten to death first. And if he stayed off the drugs. And the booze. And if he could get himself out of the life he was presently in. I looked around the room. There were lots of things that would fetch money if they were nicked and sold on. TV, video, movie camera in one of the drawers, a little jewellery which was good quality gold and which I never wore. Yes, if Kenny had a mind to lift something from me, he could make quite a bit of money out of my stuff if he knew where to take it -- and I presumed he did. His friends would have told him that. 

I could hear the shower running. I imagined his body, completely undressed, smooth, young and his cock growing hard as I touched it. My cock stirred at the thought. Yes, I wanted Kenny very much, there was no doubt about that.

I let my thoughts ramble through my brain and then made a decision. While Kenny was enjoying himself in the shower, I made certain preparations and did certain things. Then I returned to the sofa and I was still sitting there when I heard the bathroom door open. Kenny came out, wearing just his underwear. I stared at him.


Kenny



"Kenny? Kenny Jacobs, is that you?"

Ken looked over at the person who had seated herself beside him on the bench. His first impression was of nice well-tanned legs in open sandals and as his gaze moved up, he saw that the rest of her was just as nice. When he got to her face he saw the lines, slight wrinkles, and the hint of gray in the brown hair indicative of middle age, nothing severe, but noticeable.

"I'm sorry ma'am, do I know you?"

"Kenny, it's Marcia Friedman, I was your history teacher at Central Coast High School. Remember me?"

"Oh, Hi Mrs. F, I didn't recognize you. You look a lot different without the business dress and with your hair down. How are you doing ma'am, and how is Mr. Friedman?" Ken didn't feel that it would be polite to mention the fact that Mrs. Friedman was a lot slimmer than he remembered her being.

"Oh, I'm doing fine; and Donald left me for his svelte young secretary. I'm living with my sister now and I am much happier. How about you Kenny? The last I knew, you were on your way to school to be a mechanic. Why are you here, and in that uniform?"

"It's a long story Mrs. F, let's just say that things didn't work out and let it go at that. It's been nice seeing you again ma'am, you are looking good. I should get back to work now."

Ken stood up and placed his hat, emblazoned with "SECURITY", back on his head and made to move out. 

"Wait a minute Kenny, are you having trouble? You look about as sad as I have ever seen anyone look. Is there anything I can do to help?"

Ken looked back down at the woman, "Not really ma'am, it's something that I have to deal with. I'll be okay."

"You don't act like it," she reached into her purse, "here, take this card and call me tonight. I would like to hear the whole story. Maybe you could come to dinner. My sister and I don't have company often enough. Please tell me that you will."

"You don't need someone like me around ma'am. I think I'll pass, thank you for the thought though."

"No, please Kenny, call me. I would like to help."

"I'll think about it ma'am; but I really do need to get back to work now."

Ken put the card into his shirt pocket, the pockets on his pants were too much trouble to get past his bulging waist to get into, and promptly forgot about it. Mrs. F sure did look better that she had in school; she must have lost 50 lbs or more. Though history had not been one of his better subjects, Mrs. Friedman had been one of his favorite teachers. She was not that much older than the students and had always been pleasant and willing to lend a hand when it was needed. Too bad about her husband leaving though, he must have been an ass to leave such a nice woman. 

Walking around the mall didn't allow him to get away from his own troubles. This was the only job he was able to keep, and the pay sucked. There were too many bills to pay. Sally Mae was after him for the school loans, the hospital wanted payment for the birth of his daughter, and the credit card his wife had used to leave him was maxed out and screaming. The rent was due on his efficiency apartment in Seaside and the insurance was due on his old Toyota. The thing he had the most trouble understanding though, was how he was staying so overweight living on mac & cheese and ramen. He couldn't even remember the last time he had had real meat in his diet. The double cheese at Mickey D's didn't count. 

This was the end of what was supposed to be his visitation weeks with his daughter. The problem with that was that Belinda had taken the baby with her to her parents' house in Idaho. Ken couldn't afford to take the time off of work, nor did he have the money required to drive all the way to Boise from Monterey. Why the hell did he have to get so drunk at that damn party? Everything would have been okay if he had just stayed away from there, or at least stayed sober enough not to sleep with the drunk girl.  

Now his life was, for all intents and purposes, over. Nothing he could do now would get him out of the hole he had dug for himself.

Ken's thoughts kept going around in circles for hours trying to find a way out when suddenly his stomach growled, and reminded him of the card in his pocket. Mrs. F had suggested dinner; he was willing to bet that it would have meat in it. He hated to freeload off of someone as nice as her, but the prospect of another package of ramen made his stomach wince. Ken decided to call Mrs. F after work, he got off at 5 this evening and had two days off after that. The last thing the security company wanted was for him to get in 40 hours and have to be considered full time. If that happened the union would require them to put some money into benefits for him.

"Come on Marta, he'll be here soon. I told him 6:30 and it is after 6 now. We have to make a good first impression if my plan is to work."

Marta Horne gave her younger sister the finger as she turned to go upstairs to change into a more suggestive outfit. She wasn't sure that finding a young man to live with them was the best solution to their problem, but it couldn't hurt to try.

The problem had begun to show within the last few months. Her older husband had died of a heart attack 3 years before, and then her sister's husband had left her 6 months later. They had combined households for convenience and to console each other. Neither of them had been left wanting financially. George had a hefty life insurance policy as well as some very good investments, and Donald had lost much of his livelihood to Marcia's lawyers. They had both started a fitness and diet program shortly after Marcia had moved in. Marcia had done the best at this, but Marta had trimmed down considerably as well. With the loss of the weight and the improved physical fitness had come urges, which were becoming more and more urgent. Neither of the sisters wanted to subject herself to the bar and dating scene; but then Marcia had come up with the idea of getting a live in companion. Finding a suitable candidate was not as easy as it seemed, but maybe this young man would do, Marcia sure thought a lot of him. 

Ken arrived a few minutes after 6, and when Marcia answered the door she took his breath away. She was wearing a long green sheath dress with slits on each side nearly to her waist. The top cut across the middle of her breasts without straps, showing a nice light tan skin with no lines.

When they got to the dining room table Ken was surprised again, Marta was wearing a little black dress that was short and backless displaying firm legs and very large breasts.

"Kenny, I would like you to meet my sister, Marta Horne." 

"I'm sorry Mrs. F. I didn't realize that you would want me to dress for dinner. You and your sister look marvelous, I'm overwhelmed."

"You're fine Kenny; we just wanted to look good for you. It's been a long time since we had anyone to dress up for."

"Well thanks for asking me to dinner; it has been a long time since I had a home cooked meal."

"What about your family Kenny? What happened to them?"

"I don't have any family around here Mrs. F. Dad was posted to Ft. Bragg before he retired, and he and mom stayed there. My mom's people are in Massachusetts and dad has never had much to do with his family that I know of; I think most of them are in Wisconsin. I'm kind of on my own here. They don't even know what is going on as I have been ashamed to tell them. They would probably want me to move there, and I really don't want to leave California, this is the only place that has ever felt like home to me."

"Let's eat and you can tell us what has happened with you Kenny," they each sat at the large table, Marta at the end and Ken and Marcia facing each other next to her, "you said that things hadn't worked out as planned. What happened? Did you fail out of school or something? I have trouble believing that from a sharp guy like you."

Just then a dark skinned girl a bit younger than Kenny's 23 years brought appetizers out from the kitchen on a large platter. She placed servings in front of each of them before departing. Ken had been impressed when he heard the location of the house, only the very rich could afford a house near Carmel, and this one was just off Highway one, with an ocean view. The fact that there were servants was not much of a surprise. 

"No, I didn't fail out Mrs. F. I just made a mistake and had to leave. I was actually doing pretty good in the classes. I had a 3.9 average for the first two semesters."

"Well what happened? Is there anything we could do to help?"

"No Mrs. F, you can't fix fat, ugly, and stupid. I'm just going to have to live with the con-sequences of my actions."

"Please call me Marcia, Kenny, and your grades show that you aren't stupid. You aren't ugly either, and fat can be fixed. Do you remember what I looked like when I was teaching? Marta was just as bad, and we were able to fix it."

"I doubt that whatever you did would work for me. I haven't been able to afford to eat much for a long time, and I walk for eight to ten hours a day. I look just like my mom does, and I always will. And if I hadn't been stupid I would never have gotten into this mess. I suppose I may as well tell you about it. After finals for the first semester, I went to a party to celebrate. I got drunk, and when I woke up there was a girl with me. I had no idea who she was, but when she saw who she had slept with, she got downright insulting. I swore off booze for a while and didn't think anything else about it, hell; I couldn't remember what happened anyway."

"Well about a month and a half later the girl got in touch with me through the guys who had thrown the party. She told me that she was pregnant and she thought that I was the father. I didn't remember having sex with the girl, but I knew that I hadn't had any rubbers with me that night, so I ended up in Vegas getting married to Belinda the next week. I had to quit school and find a job to support her and the baby."

"Oh, I'm so sorry Kenny. What happened then?"

"She left when Mallory was at about 18 months and went back to stay with her parents in Idaho. Our quickie Vegas marriage became a quickie Vegas divorce. I was supposed to be able to visit with the baby last week, but I couldn't afford to go."

"You poor thing, do you miss your wife?"

"Not really Marta, I never cared much for Belinda, I was just trying to do the right thing. I miss the baby though, she was born 7 months after the party, so I am sure that I wasn't the father, but I really did love the little beauty. No matter how irritated I got with her mother, I never held a grudge toward Mallory. I just wish that I could have something to do with her life. The last thing I want is for her to turn out like her mother. All Belinda ever did was to insult me and complain about how useless I was. She wouldn't even let me have sex with her after we were married, and I'm pretty sure that she was cheating on me. The one time I did get to sleep with her she complained constantly about my weight and what a poor lover I was. She packed up the next day and left while I was at work."

During the recitation of agony the main course of grilled tuna had been served, but the women had no interest in food and looked like they were going to cry. Marta spoke up, "That is just not right Ken. Let me call my husband's law firm tomorrow, someone there should be able to help; after all, I still own a good portion of the firm. On anther topic, Marcia told me that you were doing something with engines, are you any good with them?"

"I'm great, I don't like to brag, but I could work in any garage in the area now. The problem is that they won't hire me without the certificate I would have gotten at school. I have been working on cars since I was 14; I can do just about anything as long as I have the tools available."

The two sisters looked at each other, "If that is the case, Ken, would you be willing to look at something for me and see if you can do anything with it? I would be glad to pay you for your time."

"Be glad to Mrs. Horne, and there is no need to pay me. This meal is worth a tune up and oil change at the least. What is it you need help with?"

"This property used to be a lodge, with a bunch of cabins and a tennis court and pool, but since my husband died it has become overgrown and rough. I have a landscaping company that comes in once a week to take care of some of it, but they seem to be doing less and less each time. My husband bought a tractor to work on the place some, but it hasn't run for years. I was going to send it to a garage in town. Once it is working I can hire a handyman to get the place back up to being something I can be proud of."

"Okay Mrs. Horne, I'm not dressed to work on anything now, but I'm off tomorrow and I can do it then. What kind of tractor is it?"

"Please Ken, call me Marta, I think the name on it was Kaborta or something, and tomorrow would be fine."

"Kubota, probably. That is a pretty good brand and parts are available everywhere. I'll come out tomorrow morning and take a look at it for you."

Marcia asked, "How much do you make as a security guard Kenny? I don't mean to get personal, but it would help if I knew."

"That's alright Mrs., aah, Marcia. I only get 9.25 an hour, and no more than 36 hours a week. After taxes I barely take home $1,000 a month. I send Belinda two fifty a month to help with Mallory. I am a couple of weeks late with this month's payment right now because a couple of bill collectors started getting nasty."

"Well that is going to have to be fixed, can't have you arrested as a dead-beat dad. What bills are you having trouble with?"

Ken went through the litany of the rent, insurance, hospital bill, school loans, and such. As he was talking the girl came back in and asked if anyone wanted dessert. Marta asked that it be served on the deck. "You and your mother come out and join us Connie, I want you to meet our new friend."

Dessert was fresh fruit salad with whipped cream. Kenny was introduced to Consuela and her mother Selena, who was carrying Consuela's baby boy, Stefan, on her hip. 

"Did I understand that you are off for the next two days Ken?" Marcia asked.

"Yes'm, I've already worked my full week."

"How would you like to stay over in one of the cabins tonight and tomorrow? There is a task we would like you to do for us Friday morning and it would be easier for you to just stay here than drive both ways."

"That would be fine for tomorrow night as long as it is no bother ma'am. I don't have anything else to do, but I need to get my tools if I am going to work on your tractor. I'll go ahead and leave now and be back early tomorrow morning. Thank you again for such a fine meal."

After he left, the ladies talked about what a shame it was that such a nice boy was having so much trouble. 

"What that bitch has done to him can't be right," Marta said, "he should not have to do without seeing his daughter, even if he isn't the sperm donor. I can't believe anyone could be so cruel."

"You should have seen some of the little horrors in the high school he went to. I know some of them put poor Kenny down too. If he could lose some weight he would be fairly attractive, maybe we can get him to do our diet with us. Would you have a problem with him living here Selena, or you Connie?"

"He is a nice boy, he would not bother us madam. It would be nice to have someone to protect us for a change."

"I hadn't thought of that, he would be able to protect us, wouldn't he?"

(to be continued)



Kenny



"Never more so," I told him cheerfully. "It's entirely up to you, but I would like it if you did." I sipped a bit more of my Scotch. "Of course, if you prefer a life outside, free of responsibilities, free to go your own way --"

Kenny's soft slender fingers had come to my lips and effectively shut me up.

"You'd do that?" he exclaimed in a quiet and awed voice. "You'd let me live here, with you? But I have no money. I'm just a dirty rent boy. Why would you do such a thing---" he paused and his eyes narrowed. "Wait a minute! Are you saying I can live here but I should still go out and find tricks and then split the money with you? You want to pimp me?"

"No!" I said sharply. "No, Kenny! It isn't like that at all! Quite the reverse, in fact."

The boy's face softened again and I felt his body relax too. 

"I wouldn't do that," he said. "Not for anyone."

"Kenny, what I'm saying, what I'm offering, is for you to live here with me. Look after my --- needs and wants. There are one or two conditions, but nothing like that. In fact, if you choose to stay here with me, one of those conditions is you that you never, never, turn another trick with anyone, and if I found out that you had, I'd throw you out on the spot. If you choose to stay here, then you will only be able to have sex with me, no-one else. Maybe that's too high a price to pay?"

Kenny shook his head. "I don't have sex with tricks," he said. "I do a job. The media call it being a sex worker. It means being a hooker or a rent boy. But it's work. I get a little money for doing it. But sex is something you do with someone you like. It's something you enjoy. There's a big difference. Do you understand what I am talking about?"

"Perfectly," I said. 

"Then it isn't a price I would have to pay," said Kenny, "because I want to have sex with you. I wanted it last night. Wanted it. That's the point."

He gazed at me and took my hand in his slender fingers. "I want sex with you because I like you, Desi. Not because you're going to pay me for it. Not because you'll give me food if I do. Just because I feel ---close to you and because I want sex with you."

He squeezed my hand and gave a small, helpless shrug.

"So, if you really mean it, if you're not winding me up, and I'm not dreaming, the answer is yes, I would love to live here with you."

I held up my free hand.

"Wait," I said. "There are other conditions. Not many. But a few. You may not like them."

Kenny slid nearer to me on the sofa, reached up and put his hand on my cheek. "If you're not wanting to pimp me, and if I am only allowed to have sex with you, any other conditions will seem pretty minor," he said gently.

I watched him for a few moments.

"It's the type of sex," I told him, "that you might not like."

He gave a gentle shrug. "I told you I'd tried most things, even in just three or four months. There are things I like doing, and having done to me too. I don't think you'll want any type of sex that I wouldn't agree to or want myself."

I nodded. "I hope so," I said. "I really hope so, my lovely little Kenny, because I want to enjoy you, and I want you to enjoy me, without any worries or fears or inhibitions." 

He suddenly swivelled round until he was kneeling astride me, facing me. His arms went over my shoulders and his hands clasped round the back of my neck.

"Tell me," he whispered. "Tell me what you like and what you want to do with me."

So I told him.

"Firstly," I began, "I like wearing ladies' pants. I very, very rarely wear men's, except perhaps like the trunks you have on."

He nodded, his face completely serious.

"Secondly, I would want you to dress for me, sometimes wearing miniskirts, stockings, suspenders, maybe just pants, whatever I fancied at the moment."

Kenny leant forward and planted a gentle kiss on my forehead. "Any time, anything you want, I'll wear for you," he murmured.

"I want all types of sex," I continued. "Hand, mouth, ass, everything. And that works both ways. I would want you to fuck me, as much as I fuck you."

"I would hope so!" Kenny murmured.

"Thirdly, I am not into bondage or domination, or anything painful. I don't want any of that---" Kenny was nodding, "—but I do like other things. Watersports, for example. I like a lot of it, both ways."

Kenny continued to nod, while gazing at me. 

"Also, I will not use a condom. I want bareback sex."

A cloud passed behind Kenny's eyes and his face took on a doubtful expression.

"Oh," he said. "Des, I don't know-----"

"Kenny, I haven't had a sexual partner for ages. Anything I enjoy I have enjoyed alone. I am sure I don't have a problem, but..." I paused and brushed a hair away from his forehead, "...if it makes you happier, I will have a test too."

He gazed at me thoughtfully for a few moments. "If you want to," he said eventually. "I'm not saying you must, because you don't look the type who is likely to get anything like that. That's one reason why I picked you to ask for the fiver."

"A better class of trick?" I enquired mildly, and he had the grace to look away and coloured slightly.

I reached down and gently touched the front of his jeans where I could feel his cock inside them.

"I want to enjoy you without anything getting in the way," I said quietly. "That has to be one of my conditions."

Kenny's face was serious as he considered my words and then his face cleared and he smiled again.

His hands cupped my face.

"Okay Desi. I can't really believe you're carrying anything nasty, but of course you never know.... but I would enjoy bareback sex with you too. And if I'm going to live with you, there shouldn't be any need for that sort of protection. No problem. No condoms."

"And," I said heavily, "one more thing."

I paused and Kenny raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "You've said nothing else so far to put me off staying here. Go on."

"You will never, never," I said slowly, "ever wash any underwear, yours or mine, unless I say you can. Is that clear?"

A smile formed on Kenny's face and spread into a big grin. "Dear Desi!" he said. "I've been wearing these pants for about six weeks or more, every day, non stop, without washing. Do you really think that would bother me?" His grin became a laugh and he leaned forward and kissed me again.

"Oh, Des! Your conditions and rules are... are... well, they're nothing! Do you understand? They don't bother me at all! And if they make you happy I'll be even more pleased to do them for you." His face became serious again. His hands dropped to my shoulders and he actually gave me a little shake. "Derek, somehow you've become something special to me, even in just the short time I've known you. I don't know why, and I don't understand. But to be able to stay here, live here in this nice flat, to have a home again, and to be with someone I like very much and make them happy in any way I know how, any way he wants and any way I can, that's just amazing for me. I would like it very much."

I took him in my arms and for several minutes we kissed and held each other. His mouth opened and I felt the tip of his tongue licking at me, searching, probing, teasing. I responded, and then our tongues were lashing together, circling, tasting, teasing, exploring. I eased my head back.

"Take those jeans off," I murmured, and he left the sofa and quickly removed them. Once again the sight of those old and stained trunks started my loins stirring. He pulled the T-shirt off too and came back to me. Gently he started to unbutton my shirt. 

"I want you!" he whispered. "I hope you want me too!"

Gently I ran my hands round his ass. His cheeks were everything I expected, firm, round, but pliable enough for me to separate them slightly inside his pants. I stroked his ass and let my fingers trace down the crease between his cheeks. He pushed himself towards me and I let my hands wander down to the inside of his thighs. He was standing in front of me, leaning over to me as he undid the last button and gently pulled the shirt off my shoulders. That wondrous open fly was in front of me, and I could see his cock inside, nestling there and just waiting to rise up. I let my hand trail round his thigh to the front, and let it brush up against the front of his trunks. I felt his cock jerk and begin to grow. Kenny was undoing my belt and unzipping my trousers, and my own cock was already answering the call, hardening and awaiting the soft touch of those gentle and slim fingers. 

Slowly I used one hand to open his fly as much as it would go, and with the other hand I inserted two fingers and my thumb. I felt the heat of his cock and as my roving fingers touched it and began to curl round it, Kenny let out a little gasp. Gently I massaged his cock, still inside those trunks, and as it grew and hardened into a full erection I eased it out through the fly. It was truly magnificent. His helmet gleamed as it swelled up in my hand. The vein on the back of his cock throbbed as it pumped the blood to him. His rod was hard and red and strained towards me. His helmet shone purple as it swelled and strained.

Kenny had unzipped my trousers and his own hand was now inside them, stroking and massaging my silk thong as my cock became erect inside it. Gently his fingers probed at the edge of the silk and I felt their warmth as he reached my cock.

"Oh!" he exclaimed softly. "You're shaved?"

I nodded. "Yes, completely."

Kenny smiled and I felt his fingers exploring my cock and balls inside my thong.

I put my hands on his ass again and pulled gently and he knew immediately what I wanted. Releasing my own cock, he knelt up on the sofa, his legs on either side of me. Slowly he eased his body forward and that magnificent, ramrod hard cock approached my mouth. I licked the tip and he gasped as his cock jerked. I let my tongue play round his helmet, over it and round it and behind it and under it. His whole cock was throbbing and straining. I grasped the base with one hand and began to stroke him, opening my lips at the same time and taking his cock inside my mouth. 

Kenny was gasping and leaning the top half of his body back, even as he thrust his lower half forward.

"Desi! Desi!" he gasped. "I don't want to cum yet! Stop!"

I released his cock and he stayed perfectly still for a moment. His cock twitched and jerked in the air in front of my face and I knew he was making a monumental effort to hold himself back. Finally his eyes opened and he looked down at me. 

"Don't touch me for a bit," he gasped. "If you do I shall cum."

He started to tug down my trousers and I helped him by easing myself off the sofa. Throwing the trousers to one side he looked down.

"Oh, nice!" he murmured. He ran his hand up the inside of my thigh, starting at the top of the stockings and moving on up, until he reached my naked flesh. The feel of his hand approaching my cock was enough to complete my erection and my cock bulged inside the silk thong. Gently he brushed against my cock, then pulled the thong to one side, allowing my cock to spring free. He scrambled backwards off the sofa and knelt down on the floor. His head went between my thighs and I felt his tongue licking my thighs, first one side, then the other. His tongue moved upwards until he reached my balls, still half inside the thong. He licked them gently, again and again and my cock trembled. Kenny pulled aside the last part of the thong and cupped my balls in one hand as his tongue began to lick and probe at my cock. I felt his finger exploring beyond my balls, round behind them towards my ass, stroking and teasing. He looked up at me without stopping the movements of his hand and finger for a moment.

"Desi!" he whispered. "Lovely Desi! Tell me what you want! I want to make you cum first! What do you want me to do?"

My voice had a croak in it as I answered him.

"Suck me till I tell you to stop. Then stand up again so I can put my cock inside the front of those lovely trunks. I want to cum inside them, all over your cock before I suck you."

He nodded and bent his head again. His tongue continued to tease and lick round my cock and then I felt it sliding inside his mouth. His soft lips massaged against my rod. I wanted this boy so much I knew I wouldn't be able to wait for long. My cock was quivering and straining inside his mouth and still his tongue was circling around it and teasing it. He released it from his mouth and immediately licked the full length of the back of it before taking it deep inside his mouth again. I realised that his own hand was inside his pants, moving gently and that he'd put his own cock back inside them and was wanking himself even as he was sucking me. 

I felt the tremor inside my balls, and hissed "Stop!"

He let me go at once and stood in front of me, his hand still inside the waistband of his pants. He moved close to me and I stood and thrust my cock inside that open fly. I felt his own hot cock, still as hard as before, and I felt his own hand as it left his own rod and circled mine, stroking me once, twice and then I couldn't hold back and my cum shot from the end of my cock over his hand, over his belly, into those lovely pants. He didn't falter for a second but kept stroking me up and down and with each stroke I felt more hot cum shoot out from my cock. I was trembling all over and my legs were shaking with the force and strength of my orgasm. Finally I felt the spasms dying away and I put my hands round his ass and pulled him to me. I could feel my own warm cum running over my cock and his as I pressed against him and kissed him urgently.

I was still shaking with the aftermath of my orgasm, and Kenny gently eased me away from him and sat me back down on the sofa. 

"Kenny!" I managed to finally gasp out. 

"Sshhhh!" he murmured. His hand went into his pants again and came out with cum on his fingers.

"Sshhh!" he repeated, and gently massaged my lips with his fingers, spreading cum over them. Twice more he did this, and the third time he put his fingers between his own lips and gently sucked the cum from them.

"You taste nice!" he murmured. 

I had recovered my breath somewhat, enough to speak more clearly.

"Kenny, sweet little Kenny, what do you want? I want to give you as big a climax as you just gave me. Tell me what you want me to do."

The boy regarded me thoughtfully. "Do you know what I would really like?" he asked. It was a rhetorical question and he went on, "I'd like you to suck all that cum off me, and wank me at the same time."

He started stroking himself inside his wet pants again.

"And where do you want to shoot your own cum?" I asked him.

He considered this for a short while.

"I think," he murmured eventually, "I would just like to cum over your cock, but inside my pants, like you did. It would be nice," he continued dreamily, "to wear them again tomorrow knowing that your cum and mine was in them."

I nodded and leaned forward. He pushed himself close to me and I reached inside his fly and brought out his rock hard cock. It glistened with the cum surrounding it. Gently I took it into my own lips and sucked the cum from it. I licked round it and made sure I'd collected every drop before I took him into my mouth as deeply as I could. My hand was grasping the base of his cock and I began to stroke him as I sucked at him. I could hear his breath coming deeply as he thrust forward into my mouth at exactly the same time my fingers were sliding back down to the base of it. His thrusts became more urgent and his gasps louder. Suddenly he pulled away from me.

"Change over!" he gasped. Quickly he pulled down his trunks and I removed my thong. I pulled on those delicious, warm, wet pants and felt my cum warm against my skin. I lay back on the sofa and Kenny lay naked, half on top of me. Gently he pushed his thick hot cock into the open fly of the trunks and I slid my hand down into the waistband of them. His cock was hot against mine and against my belly. My fingers circled it and I began to wank him as he moved backwards and forwards slightly. His shaft pushed and strained in my hand and I felt a tremor in it. His movements became more urgent as he thrust himself against me.

He thrust forwards twice more, his breath gasping louder and louder and then he cried out.

"Now!" he cried. "Now! Now! Now!"

And I felt his cock shudder against me as he spasmed, each breath a gasp as his muscles shot his hot cream onto me and inside his own pants. Jet after jet spurted onto me and ran down my belly, over my balls and under them towards my ass. He was still thrusting against me and I felt his cock become deliciously wet and slippery in my hand as his cum became its own lubricant. Finally he stopped moving and sagged against me, his warm body lying against mine, his hot cock resting against my own and his cum still slowly trickling over my skin.

His gasping slowed a bit, and slowly, with a slight stagger, he pulled his rod free of the trunks and subsided with a thump on the sofa.

"And you ask me---" he gasped out, his eyes closed, "if I want -- to stay here with you."

I didn't think he really wanted an answer. I stood up and fetched us both cigarettes, then fetched a towel and put that on the sofa before I sat down. 

We sat and smoked for some time, regaining our breath and our energy. I could feel his hot cum in the crack of my ass. It was a delicious feeling. My cock nestled inside those wonderful used pants of his, and I could feel the warmth of his cum occasionally trickling down to my balls and onto my thighs.

At one point his hand came across and rested on my thigh. He toyed with the top of my hold-up stockings. He finished his smoke before I did, stubbed it out and then rolled over to lay his head on my lap. Tenderly he planted little kisses on my thighs and on the front of his pants. 

"If you're hoping for another bout," I said, "you'll have to give me a little time to recover. I'm not as young as you!"

"Oh, I couldn't get hard again yet," he agreed, his voice muffled. "I'm just enjoying the tastes, the smells. And I'm enjoying being close to you."

His arm reached round and he hugged my thigh.

"Desi," he said after a while, "can we talk practicalities for a bit?"

"Of course," I answered. 

He straightened up a bit but rested his hand on my crotch.

"Well," he began, "I don't have a lot to my name, but there are a couple of things at my plot, and there is my bag at the station locker. Do you have a car? Could we fetch them?"

"I don't have a car," I said. "Sorry. I usually walk to work. It's only ten minutes away. But look, it's only six o'clock. We can stroll round and collect your bits and pieces if you want."

I paused and looked at him closely.

"Or would you rather go by yourself?"

His hand toyed with the open fly of the trunks and I felt his fingers curling round and holding my soft cock.

"Oh, no. I don't mind you coming too," he answered. "I've nothing to hide. Yes, we can go for walk and collect them."

"Anything else you want to ask me?"

"Well, yes. What are the sleeping arrangements going to be now?"

I considered this.

"What would you prefer?" I asked him.

"To be with you," he said simply.

"Okay. But we'll keep the other bed made up, and then if either of us wants some privacy you can always go to that room if you wish. You can treat it as your own room, keep your stuff there, but sleep with me. How's that?"

"Super," he murmured, and gave my cock a gentle squeeze.

"Anything more?"

There was a pause. I sensed that he wanted to say something else and gave him time to formulate it.

"Desi," he said at last. "How do I know that you won't get fed up with me and just throw me out one day?" He raised his head and once again those trusting brown eyes searched my face.

"I won't do that," I said softly. "As long as you keep me happy, in bed and out of it, do what I ask, wear what I ask, and give me orgasms like that one just now, I won't get fed up with you."




Kenny



"And what about food and stuff like that? I can't pay anything to you."

"Let me take care of things like that," I told him. "I'm not asking you to pay me any money, am I? I just want you to be available for me, however I may want you, whenever I may want you. I'll keep the larder stocked up and the cigarette box full. Don't worry."

His eyes stayed on my face, as if he was searching for a hint of a lie or an evasion in my words.

"If you do," he said quietly, "one day want me out, please try and give me some warning. A week, or even a day or two. Not just immediately."

I pulled him close to me and cuddled him, feeling that supple young body against me, the softness of his thighs as I rubbed my hand against them, and the warmth of his soft, wet cock as it nestled against me.

"I won't throw you out," I repeated firmly. I let my hand drop to his cock and held it. The hair round it and on his stomach was soft, as I had thought. Maybe later it would become harder and more wiry, but I didn't want that.

"Kenny," I said, "there is one other thing I'd like from you."

"Of course," he murmured. "Just say the word."

"I'd like you to shave yourself, and stay shaven. I don't like hair there. I want your cock and balls to be always smooth and shaven."

"Of course," he murmured. "No problem, except that my razor is at the plot. So maybe we should make a start and go?"

He straightened up on the sofa, and then added, "But right now I need a pee." He started to rise but I held his hand and stopped him.

"Wait!" I said.

I got up myself and went to my room. I selected a pair of pants that I had worn several times. Returning to the living room I gave them to Kenny.

"Put these on," I said. I watched him as he pulled them up. They were large, soft, cotton pants and there was a hole at the front to allow my cock to hang outside them. Kenny pulled his own cock out through the hole and looked at me. "That okay?"

I nodded and took his hand. I led him into the bathroom. Holding his lovely, large, soft cock in my hand I positioned him in front of the bowl.

"Okay," I said. "Now you can pee to your heart's content."

Within a few seconds a stream of golden pee shot from the tip of his cock. I allowed my fingers to get in the way of the stream and as they became wetter I massaged his pee over his cock and over the front of the pants. I waited patiently, pulling the pants down a little from his waist so they were loose on him. As the stream began to decrease, I quickly pushed his cock back into the hole.

"Finish it in there," I said, and with my hand resting across the hole and feeling his cock inside the pants, I also felt the warmth as he allowed the last of his pee to run into the pants.

He smiled at me.

"You like that." It was more of a statement than a question. 

"I like that a lot," I told him.

He nodded, leaned to one side and kissed my chest.

"Then you shall have lots of it," he said.

Kenny dressed in his jeans and T-shirt and I pulled on a pair of soft cotton trousers. I could still feel the wetness inside those trunks of Kenny's and there was no way I was going to take them off yet.

We left the flat and started walking. It took only fifteen minutes to walk to the bridge where he had his plot.

A brazier burned in an old metal drum and three or four lads were either around it or lounging about nearby. A train rumbled by overhead, then faded into the evening. Cardboard tents, scraps of rug or carpet, empty booze bottles and quite a few syringes lay around. It all looked rather forlorn, dingy, seedy and sordid. And also slightly menacing.

"Lee may not be here, if he's got a trick," Kenny said. He went to a pile of rugs, and extracted a half full pack of disposable razors, an old and dirty wool sweater, a toothbrush and a bit of broken mirror. He chewed his lip thoughtfully.

"Do I really need any of this?" he muttered, to himself it seemed, then he looked at me.

"Only the razors, I should think."

Kenny nodded and took the rugs, sweater and broken mirror over to a cardboard tent that was half propped up against the brick arch of the bridge.

"I'll leave them for Lee," he said. "If he doesn't get a fix in the evening, he sometimes gets very cold in the night. He could do with these."

I was aware of someone approaching us.

"Wotcher, Kenny!" came a voice. We both turned and I saw a youth sauntering over from the brazier. He was almost as tall as me, dirty, unkempt, unshaven and looked to be in his twenties.

" 'Ooos this, then? A noo mark?"

"Hallo Jed." Kenny nodded slightly at the youth and gestured to me. "This is Derek. He's a friend. I'll be staying with him for a while so I'm leaving my stuff for Lee."

I fervently wished Kenny hadn't told him my name, but it was too late now.

"Are yer, now?" Jed glanced at the things Kenny was holding and then at me. "Stayin' wiv 'im, are yer?"

I could see avarice in his eyes. He smiled, revealing a broken front tooth and the others black and discoloured. Seeing the lesions and sores on his face and neck, I guessed that Jed was slowly dying on his feet.

"Yes," Kenny affirmed. "He's offered me a home to live in."

"Really!" Jed swayed on the balls of his feet and looked me up and down. I felt uncomfortable and wished we could go. 

"Bit of a toff, if you asks me. A sugar-daddy, no less!" He stared at me belligerently. Kenny ignored his comment and I certainly wasn't going to say anything. Jed kept his eyes on me as he spoke.

"D'yer know, it's funny. I bin 'ere two years, and I ain't ever met no sugar-daddy. I ain't never bin offered no 'ome." He finally swivelled his gaze to Kenny. "You bin 'ere a few months, an' look wot 'appens to you! A fairy godfather, no less!"

Kenny stuffed his few belongings inside Lee's cardboard home and stood up, dusting his hands.

"Just lucky, I guess," he said lightly. He motioned to me and we began to move away. 

"Say ciao to the others for me," he said to Jed, who gave a slight nod and stood still, watching us leave.

"Not too keen on him," Kenny muttered under his breath.

"No," I agreed in a whisper. "He fits my idea of the epitome of a rent boy, except he seems a bit old."

"Twenty," Kenny said. "Looks more, doesn't he? He's the one with the gun." He fell silent as we headed for the station. As we neared the concourse, he touched my arm and brought me to a stop.

"Des, can I ask a favour?"

I felt a slight prickle on my spine. Despite our relationship so far, and the things we'd discussed and agreed upon, my recent encounter with Jed had reminded me that I still might be making a mistake, trusting Kenny. 

"What's the favour?" I answered noncommittally.

"I just want to make a quick phone call," Kenny replied. "I just need a few coins."

I brought out a handful of change from my pocket. "Your mum?" I suggested.

He looked taken aback.

"God, no! Why should you think that? That wouldn't be a good idea." He selected a few coins and folded my fingers closed over the remainder "Don't need more than that. No, I want to phone Lee and tell him I've left that stuff for him. Otherwise Jed or one of the others may nick it. If he knows about it he'll make sure he gets it back if they do."

"Lee has a phone?"

Kenny nodded, and gave his dry laugh again. "He needs it to keep in touch with his supply! And he has a few regular marks who call him up when they're horny." He disappeared into an open phone hood and dialled. "If he's with a trick he won't answer, it will go to his answerphone," he murmured.

It seemed Lee was with a trick after all, as Kenny gave a shake of his head and then dictated his message without any response from the other end of the line. Kenny quickly explained the barest details, without mentioning my name again, for which I was profoundly grateful, and told him to make sure he got the sweater and rugs and to take care of himself and hopefully he'd be able to visit Lee again one day. He replaced the phone on its cradle and ducked out from under the hood. His extended arm offered me the unused coins.

"Kenny, I don't need them. Keep them."

He nodded and dropped them into his pocket. "Thanks."

"Kenny, did you eat anything all day?"

"Well," Kenny said slightly guiltily, "I made myself a sandwich earlier. You weren't there to ask," he added defensively.

I grabbed his arm and swung him round to face me. Lowering my head close to his I allowed my voice to become angry.

"Kenny, when are you going to get it into your head that you don't have to ask me for a sandwich. Or a glass of milk in the night. Do you think the idea was to lock you in the house all night or all day and starve you?"

I let his arm go and saw the shock in his face.

"D- Des," he stuttered. "I'm really sorry. I mean, I thought I should ask......you have to remember I'm not used to this. I'm not used to people giving me the run of their home and allowing me to help myself to food and drink. So I am sorry if I've made you angry. Don't be angry with me, please. I don't like it. I won't ask again if I'm hungry or thirsty at home."

He looked shocked, worried and upset, and my heart went out to him. I put my arm round his shoulders and gave him a squeeze.

"I'm not really angry," I told him. "I just wanted you to get the point."

He looked immensely relieved. "I've got it, Desi, don't worry. I don't ever want to make you angry."

"Talking of eating," I said, "I haven't eaten since lunch time either." I looked at his trusting face for a moment. "My opinion is.....we could have a little celebration together. What do you think?"

"Celebration?" he repeated blankly.

"Yes, why not? We've made our understanding together, and as a result I have something very nice in my life, and you have a better future than you had when you asked me for a fiver. Don't you think that warrants a little celebration?" 

Kenny gazed at me for a few seconds and then his face became wreathed in smiles. 

"Sounds good to me!" he grinned.

I gestured to one side of the station concourse. There were several food outlets there, all of which had another entrance from the road outside the station, and a second entrance inside the concourse.

Kenny's gaze followed my own. "Do you eat a lot of hamburgers?" he asked me.

"I'm not thinking of a hamburger," I told him, putting one hand on his shoulder and turning him slightly to the left. He stared for a minute, then looked at me incredulously.

"A steak?" he whispered. "A real, juicy, meat, steak?"

I propelled him towards the restaurant. It was one of a chain and I knew we'd get a damn good meal in there.

"With all the trimmings," I assured him. Once inside, settled at a smoking table in a corner, we studied the menu. I knew what I would have, but I let Kenny's eyes devour the range of starters, main courses and desserts printed there. Once or twice he raised his eyes and looked at me over the top of it. I poured him a glass of the wine I'd ordered.

"I want to order all of it!" he laughed. "I mean -- I just don't know where to start."

"With a starter," I suggested helpfully, and we both laughed.

Kenny had his starter, then a huge T-bone steak which overflowed the edge of the plate, garnished with mushrooms and tomatoes, and added fries and a side salad to it. Eventually he forked the last morsel of steak into his mouth and slumped back into his seat.

"I am full!" he stated breathlessly. "I could not eat another thing!"

I nodded. "Good, glad to hear it. So I'll eat dessert by myself, shall I?"

He gave a slight groan and rubbed his stomach. "Dessert? I don't know if I can........."

The waiter appeared right on cue and I ordered my pancakes with maple syrup, topped with cream, and a portion of ice cream on the side. The waiter glanced at Kenny with a raised eyebrow.

"Same for me, please," he murmured. He looked at me sheepishly, and I laughed.

The meal was finally over, and we sat with our glasses topped up from the second bottle of wine. I raised my glass and looked at him.

"Congratulations!" I said quietly. His eyebrows shot up as he raised his own glass. "Yes," I went on. "That is the right word. Congratulations on your new life, and may our -- special -- relationship continue for us both, for a long time."

Kenny nodded and we clinked glasses. "Thank you, Desi," he murmured. "Thank you for rescuing me." And we drank.

Eventually, even the second bottle was empty and I looked at my watch. "I suppose we'd better get your bag and think about going home," I suggested. 

"I need a pee first," Kenny whispered, looking round.

"Always the last few drops," I reminded him quietly, and he nodded.

Kenny went to his locker while I paid the bill. Twenty minutes later, after a generally silent but enjoyable walk, we were home.

Once indoors, Kenny emptied his bag onto his bed. He was right. He didn't have much. Two other pairs of jeans, two pairs of socks, a few T-shirts, a couple of handkerchiefs and one other pair of well used pants. They were cotton Y-fronts, and they had been torn at the front and the back. I picked them up off the bed and looked at them.

"A trick who got carried away," he said. "Couldn't get them off me fast enough so he just ripped them. I'll chuck them out."

"No you won't!" I told him. "You'll keep them. They're very sexy and sometimes you can put them on for me."

Apart from those few clothes, all Kenny had was a portable CD player and two CDs, and a fairly expensive looking watch.

"A birthday present from my mum," he explained. "I kept it locked away in case it got nicked."

He put the clothes away in a drawer and turned to me.

"I still think I'm dreaming, you know."

"You're not," I said. I pulled him to me and we hugged. "I'm just going to catch the late news on TV," I said, "and then, how about bed? Take off those clothes and come and sit down."

I went to my own room and removed my shirt, socks and trousers. Wearing only my hold-ups and Kenny's trunks I settled down on the sofa. Kenny came to me and asked, did I want him to take another shower before we went to bed?

"No," I said. "I'd prefer you not to shower tonight, but you can use one or two of those razors you brought home."

He nodded in understanding. A short while later, wearing only the pants I'd given him with the hole in the front he returned from the bathroom and snuggled against me on the sofa. His cock was hidden inside and I enjoyed the thought of discovering how it would feel now he was smooth. He rested one hand on the front of my pants, and started to massage me.

"Not now," I murmured. "Later."

He nodded again. "I haven't seen a TV since I left home," he said. "Only read a newspaper occasionally."

We sat in a warm silence, watching the TV. His hand remained on my cock, but he didn't move it again. My arm was over his shoulder and down his back, my hand cupping one cheek of his round ass as he half sat, half lay across me. He stayed silent, respecting my wish to see the news. When it had finished, his free hand went to the back of my neck and stroked me there softly.

"I don't know how to think of you," he confessed. I waited, guessing he would enlarge upon this comment when he'd got his thoughts together.

"I mean, I can't think of you as a father figure, because of......" he tailed off, and then "...and I can't think of you as an older brother either. It doesn't seem to fit, somehow. A friend, yes, but that doesn't seem enough."

"Well," I suggested, "try a very, very close and dear friend. See how you get on with that."

Kenny nodded, but he didn't seem completely satisfied with the idea. It was up to him to work it out in his own good time.

"It's ten-thirty," I pointed out. I stood up and held out my hand. He took it, and I led the way to my bedroom door. I paused before opening it.

"If you decide you'd rather not sleep in here after all," I said, "I will understand."

I let him open the door and go in. He surveyed the room silently for a few moments and then went to the bed, leant down and pressed his nose to it.

"As it happens," he said, moving around and sniffing at various areas of the sheets, "I do like that smell." He straightened up and looked at me. "Do you often pee in the bed?"

"Quite often," I said. "There's a plastic sheet underneath to protect the mattress. The sheets are usually dry again by the time I go to bed at night."

Kenny nodded. "And if I need to pee in the night?" he asked.

"Wake me," I said gently. I gestured to the bed. "Make yourself comfortable." I switched on the bedside lamp on his side of the bed, and then my own.

Kenny smiled and climbed into the bed, pulling the covers over himself and then flicking half of them away again for me. I decided to remove the holdups, then slid into bed beside Kenny.

He gestured to the stockings on the floor. "You don't want them on?" he murmured.

"Not tonight," I answered. I wanted to feel Kenny against me, against my skin and my body.

He smiled again and moved sideways in the bed, snuggling against me and lying half on his side. His arm went across my chest and stroked my side, and he slid one leg over mine, forcing my feet apart slightly with his own so that he could rest his leg between my own. His hand was cool and his fingers delicate as they stroked my side. His thigh was warm as it lay across mine and I was glad I'd taken the holdups off. 

I wriggled my arm under him and curled it round him, pulling him tighter against me, stroking his back, tracing his spine gently and then curving my hand round on his pants, savouring the feel of his warm, round tight cheeks. I felt him pressing against me as he enjoyed the caress of my hand. His own hand moved from my side to my stomach and he stroked that now, gently rubbing and teasing my skin with his fingertips.

To feel his young, lithe body tight against me, to know that he was enjoying the sensations as much as I was, to know, also, that we had the whole night to enjoy each other, to explore, to discover, to taste, to tantalise and tease, and finally to bring each other to the heights of passion and sublime ecstasy, gave me a feeling such as I had never experienced before. Our previous sex had been urgent, animal sex, but I knew that now it was going to be slower, softer, and that we could take our time enjoying each other. It seemed that time was standing still, and our closeness and shared heat, our shared sensations and feelings would go on forever.

Slowly, he let his hand rub me lower and lower, until he was massaging my stomach and cock, trailing his fingers across the material of those trunks, allowing a fingertip to briefly probe inside the open fly and touch my cock, and then quickly moving on to circle round my hips, down to my thigh, round and gently back up between my legs, again brushing my cock again as his hand constantly stroked and caressed me, bringing an incredible, warm tingle to my skin wherever he touched it.

"Must you work tomorrow?" he whispered. "Do you have to get up early?"

"Tomorrow is Saturday," I said softly. "I don't work at the weekends."

Kenny nodded once and hugged me tighter.

"Good. Shall we stay here all day, do you think?"

I didn't answer, but I had plans for that Saturday which he would discover later. 

We spent a long time exploring each other, holding each other, both of us relishing the feel and the heat of our bodies close together. Under the gentle and soft ministrations of his hand and fingers my cock was slowly beginning to harden, little by little. And Kenny's rod too, was taking on the firmness and size that I knew it could become. The bed covers were gradually disappearing onto the floor as we moved about, caressing, kissing, stroking each other, both of us striving to give, and to receive, the most pleasure we could from each other. Kenny twisted slightly and started to plant kisses down my chest, my ribs, lower, to my stomach. His hand was grasping my cock through the pants I had on, and his tongue licked and teased at me as he reached the elastic waistband of them.




Kenny



"Lie still," he whispered.

Slowly he peeled the waistband down, his lips and tongue following, always kissing, teasing, his tongue leaving small wet trails across my stomach as he moved. And then my cock was free of the pants as he slid them down my legs and off me completely, and he nuzzled at the base of my rod, using his hand to press the length of my cock against his cheek. He stayed like that for a short while, half wanking me against his cheek as his hand stroked the back of my cock and pressed it against his face. Then he moved, and began to kiss and lick at the length of my shaft, starting at the base and moving slowly, so slowly, higher and higher towards my helmet. His tongue circled round, licking and tasting every inch of me as his fingers crept lower to cup my balls and fondle them gently. My cock was now fully hard, but I didn't want to bring everything to an end yet. His lips finally closed over the end of my cock and I felt him sucking at me as he took me deeper into his mouth. I enjoyed the sensations for a few moments and then whispered for him to stop.

It was his turn to receive some of my own attention. I gently rolled him away from me until he was lying face down on the bed, his smooth, handsome face lying to one side. My hand stroked down his back again and reached the firm roundness of his ass. I wanted to explore him there, something I hadn't yet done and was looking forward to. Also, I still hadn't appreciated his efforts at shaving himself smooth, but I was saving that revelation until last. I kissed the back of his neck, and copied his own soft ministrations as I licked and kissed a trail of my own, following his supple back and the line of his spine, lower and lower towards his ass. I reached the waistband of my own pants that he was still wearing, staying outside them but now enjoying the sensation of feeling his firm cheeks against my lips as I kissed and nuzzled at them through the fabric. I could smell the fragrance of his heat, and my own smell imprinted into the material as I moved lower still, my tongue now following the crease of his ass and pushing the soft cotton fabric into it. The mixed aromas of pee, cum and faint skid marks were intoxicating as I inhaled them and let my tongue savour the taste of them all as I continued to lick at his crease. I could hear him making little moans of pleasure as he lay with his eyes closed, and he began to lift himself off the bed slightly as he pushed against my tongue. Gently I began to pull the waistband down, revealing more of his round cheeks and the top of his crease. My tongue went there and I licked at him. I pulled the pants lower still and he carefully moved upwards, to kneel in front of me, the pants now halfway down those gorgeous, rounded orbs. My tongue followed the line of his crease as I licked and slurped at him, making sure he was as wet there as I could make him. He pushed back at me, still with those faint little moans in his throat. And then my tongue had reached his rosebud and I used my hands to gently separate his cheeks as I licked and probed and rimmed him with my tongue. He began to wriggle and push even harder against my tongue as it entered him.

"Oh, yes!" he murmured. "Oh yes! Don't stop! I love it!"

But, very reluctantly, I did stop. Gently I pushed his hips flat on the bed and then rolled him over again to lie on his back. I went immediately to his cock which was bulging inside the front of his pants. Now I pulled the front of the waistband down too, slowly, slowly, and suddenly there was that magnificent huge, hard shaft in front of my face. I gazed in pleasure at the sight of its length, now completely visible as the hair had gone. His stomach was now completely smooth and my tongue found its way straight to that soft smooth, hot skin as I licked at his mound and the base of his cock. It was everything I could have hoped for; so smooth and soft without the hair that it was a joy to feel against my lips and tongue. I pulled his pants down his legs and he kicked free of them. I moved a little lower in the bed so that I could reach his balls and my breath caught in my throat as I saw how beautifully smooth and round his sac was now. Gently I licked his balls, again and again, holding his massive hot shaft in my hand as I did so.

"Desi! Desi!" I heard him whispering. "Turn round! I want to suck you!"

He lay still as I swivelled round and straddled him, my face now poised over that beautifully smooth shaven cock and balls, and my own ass and balls poised somewhere over his waiting lips.

I felt his hands on my hips as he pulled me lower to him and positioned me as he wanted me. And then his tongue was on my balls, licking them and then moving to lick at that superbly erotic area between them and my ass. I felt my rosebud opening in the expectation of his tongue, but he didn't hurry. He continued to lick at my balls and let his tongue travel towards my ass, then stopping short and returning to my balls.

I lowered my own face to that hot shaft and took it between my lips, sliding it into my mouth slowly, letting my tongue tease at it as it slid further into me. My hand cupped those wonderfully smooth balls and I let my fingers continue beyond them even as his tongue was licking me in the same place. My fingers reached his cheeks and I separated them enough to probe at his rosebud with them. And then his hand was on my own cock, stroking at it as he continued to lick his way towards my ass. I began to suck at him more strongly, and I felt his cock strain in my mouth. The pleasure I was feeling from his tongue was growing stronger. He was licking my crease, just where it began, close to my rosebud, and I couldn't help but move slightly so that his tongue was suddenly right there, right where I wanted to feel it, probing, licking and wetting at my rosebud. As he had done, I pushed against his tongue and felt it open my ass as he pushed it into me. I knew I was going to cum soon, and I thought Kenny was close too, as his cock was trembling in my mouth. Gently I inserted one finger into his ass and felt him push against it as I rotated it and slightly withdrew it again. The pleasure of fucking him with my finger and feeling the muscles of his ass squeezing against it almost made me ignore what Kenny was doing to me. But suddenly he had moved and was taking my cock into his mouth, sucking at me and holding me with one hand at the same time. 

And I knew then what would give me the most incredible pleasure and what I wanted more than anything. I released his cock from my mouth and turned my head slightly to whisper to him.

"Kenny, I want to fuck you!"

He let me go immediately and we both moved quickly to change positions so that he was once again kneeling in front of me. He gave my cock one last stroke with his hand before he turned and spread his knees apart.

Slowly I approached his gorgeous round ass. I wanted to plunge so deeply and so hard into him, but I made myself act slowly, first rubbing the tip and then the length of my cock against his cheeks, then in his crease, beautifully wet from my tongue, and then I couldn't wait any more and I probed at his rosebud with the tip of my cock. I felt Kenny pushing outward with his muscles to allow me entry and then my cock was sliding into that hot, smooth, wet, tight hole. I gasped at the pleasure of it. His muscles gripped me as I slid further into him, more and more until I was in him to the hilt. I could feel my balls just touching him as I paused there for a moment, savouring the exquisite pleasure of being deep inside this lovely young boy and knowing that within a few moments I would be filling him with my cum. I wanted to stay there and experience this pleasure for as long as I possibly could but Kenny was pushing against me and then moving forward a little, signalling that he wanted to feel me moving in him and fucking him. Slowly I moved my hips back a little, sliding back inside that tight tunnel until I was almost outside him, but then reversing the movement and sliding deep into him again. The feel of his ass enclosing my cock and squeezing it as I moved slowly back and forth was indescribable. Each time I slid into him he let out a small gasp and I could hear him whispering 'yes!', 'yes!'. My cock was so hard and straining into him so much it was almost painful, but the sheer heaven of the sensation was much more, heightened even further by the knowledge that each stroke could be the last, and each one might be the one to produce that well-spring of ecstasy that would fountain upwards and complete this utterly magical, physical pleasure.

And then Kenny pushed back against me one more time and I felt it. Starting deep in my balls and travelling so rapidly up into the base of my cock that I just had time to thrust once more, hard into him with my balls banging against him as I erupted and felt the first huge spurt of cum gushing from me to splash into him. The feeling was so intense I let out a loud groan at the first spasm. It was followed by another and another, my cock feeling the heat of my own cream as it lubricated my shaft and I moved again, thrusting wetly into him and still pouring great spurts of cum into his ass and filling him to the brim with my cream.

Kenny was groaning in pleasure and wriggling slightly as he felt his ass fill with my hot spunk. He kept repeating my name as I shot into him. And then I felt those wonderful, ecstatic spurts subsiding. My cock was soaked with my own cum and I stayed there, still inside him for a few moments as my cock began to lose its hardness and subside too. Finally, slowly and reluctantly I allowed my cock to slide out of him and just knelt there, gasping for breath and shuddering from the effects of my monumental climax.

I felt Kenny moving beneath me. He was rolling onto his back and sliding down the bed until he could take my cock in his mouth again, licking at it and sucking the wetness from it, collecting the cum from it and using his soft lips to envelope it for a few moments. But I was still so sensitive I had to stop him and he waited as my heaving breaths calmed down and I rolled aside and sank onto the bed. I sensed that he was holding his cock and wanking himself gently, his shaft still large and erect as he waited for me to recover.

I couldn't find the breath to speak yet, and I just let my hand rest on his thigh. He let me lie there for a while, and then I felt his hand take mine and enclose it round his shaft.

"Desi," he whispered, "Wank me. I just want you to wank me."

I began to stroke up and down his rod and he lay back and closed his eyes.

"I love the feel of you holding me," he whispered. "I love the feel of you holding my cock and wanking me up and down."

I rolled towards him slightly and continued to stroke at him. His cock strained in front of my eyes.

"Don't you want me to suck you?" I murmured. "Or do you want to fuck me now?" 

But Kenny shook his head slightly without opening his eyes.

"Just do that," he answered. "It's wonderful."

And so I continued to wank him, feeling the heat of his shaft in my hand, feeling it twitch and tremble sometimes. My movements were slow and measured -- I wanted him to enjoy it for as long as possible. He made a little 'Mmmm!' of pleasure every now and then. The edge of my hand kept meeting the soft smoothness of his mound as I stroked him. I leant over and planted some kisses on his belly and down towards the base of his cock.

"I'm going to cum!" he murmured, and suddenly he was there, spurting hot cream up from his cock to land on my hand and his stomach. Once again his cum became its own lubricant and his cock became deliciously wet and slippery, allowing me to stroke him even more easily from the tip of his huge pink shaft right down the smooth base of his mound. He made faint thrusting movements upwards as he spasmed and because I kept my strokes slow and even, each one produced yet another spurt of his thick white cream, splashing over him and leaving white streaks across his stomach. Gently he took my hand away as his cock subsided and became too sensitive to endure any more. He placed the flat of my hand on his stomach and covered it with his own, wiping and smearing his hot cum as far as he could up and down his belly, onto his shaven mound and round the base of his cock. He was slightly breathless and we lay there together, saying nothing. I reached down and pulled the bedcovers back up onto the bed and over us. He turned slightly and lay across me as he had done to begin with, one leg between mine, his hand resting on my cock. I could feel the wet cum on his stomach against mine as he pressed close to me.

I leaned over him and just managed to reach his bedside lamp to switch it off, leaving mine still glowing. 

"Do you want a smoke?" I asked him softly, but he shook his head without speaking and stayed resting his head on my chest with his eyes closed. My arm was under him as before, resting on his ass and I felt my cum trickling out from him and onto my fingers.

I lit a smoke for myself and drew deeply on it as I lay there, warm, comfortable, satiated, and thoughtful.

After a while I could hear that Kenny's breathing had become deep and even and I knew he was asleep. But I lay for sometime and smoked another cigarette as I thought about many things.

****

It was eight-thirty when I awoke. Kenny lay beside me but we had moved apart during the night and he lay on his side facing me but not touching me. I wondered whether to wake him, or to leave him sleeping peacefully, whether to stay there myself or get out of bed and start the day. I reached for my smokes and the slight movement was enough to make him open his eyes.

"'Morning!" I murmured.

He smiled sleepily at me.

"'Morning Desi." He yawned and one hand appeared to rub his eyes sleepily. "It was all real, then? I wasn't dreaming? I really am here and we did have fantastic sex last night?"

"Yes, it is, no you weren't, yes, you are and yes, we did, to answer your questions in order." 

Kenny nodded and smiled. "Just checking," he said. I felt his hand worm through the covers to rest on my chest. He was still looking at me.

"Still find it hard to believe," he said.

"You'll get used to it," I told him. "You didn't wake me in the night. You didn't need the bathroom?"

Kenny gave a slight shake of his head. "Not until about an hour ago," he said.

I frowned. "But --" I began.

Kenny moved his hand up to place his fingers on my lips as he had before;- his way of shutting me up.

"I didn't wake you," he said, "because you looked so peaceful, lying there asleep, so content, I just didn't have the heart to wake you up."

"But---" I tried again.

"But instead I did something else I thought you would like."

His hand left my lips, and he reached for mine under the covers. He drew it to himself and carefully placed it on the front of his body, over his cock. He had put on his own used trunks again, now so full of his cum and mine, and with a thrill I realised that they were soaking wet. He let me explore with my hand and sure enough, the trunks were sopping wet at the front and down between his legs.

"I did it straight into them," Kenny said. "I thought you would like it." His eyes were on mine, and I could see that he was silently seeking approval from me.

"I love it," I murmured. "Thank you. There'll be time for you to wake me another night, but this is a lovely surprise and a great way to start the day."

Kenny smiled and reached across to give me a kiss.

"I like pleasing you," he said. My hand was still resting on his pants and I massaged them gently.

"Wonderful," I had to admit to him. "You're going to keep them on all day. But I think I hear coffee calling, and the cereals leaping about in their boxes shouting, Give me milk! Give me milk!"

Kenny laughed. "I can hear them too," he said. 

And so we got up, wandered into the kitchen and set about fortifying ourselves with breakfast. 

As we sat and munched we discussed the day ahead.

"Anything you particularly want to do?" I asked him.

"Not really. I'm in your hands," Kenny said, then stopped chewing and gave me a mischievous look.

"And a lovely feeling it is too. But no, there's nothing I need or want to do specially. What about you?"

"Aahh! Well, actually, I do have some plans," I said.

Kenny collected a crumb and popped it in his mouth. "Do they include me?" he asked carefully.

I pretended to consider this carefully.

"Well," I said at last. "I suppose they could include you. I could re-arrange things so that they did. Of course it would mean quite a change of plans and not a little inconvenience, but---"

But Kenny was quick to see the laughter in my eyes and the twitch at the corners of my mouth as I tried not to smile.

"I'm getting to know you very well," he said with a smile of his own, wagging a finger at me across the table. "And I don't just mean your cock and your balls and your ass. You're funning me."

I held up my hands in surrender. "Okay," I agreed. "You've got me. Yes, I was having a bit of fun with you. We're going shopping. Need to stock up a bit."

Kenny was still smiling, but his eyes became thoughtful. "That's something else I haven't done for a very long time," he said.

We lingered over our two cups of coffee and smoked two cigarettes while we discussed what we would buy. In the end we agreed that I would load a trolley with what food I wanted and anything I knew we needed, and if Kenny saw anything he particularly liked he could add that to the trolley as well.

"We'll fill the freezer," I told him, "so you'll have plenty to choose from if you're hungry during the day."

Thus decided, it only remained to get dressed and go. 

"Should I have a shower?" Kenny enquired.

"Not unless you really want one," I said. "I would prefer you didn't. I like smelling you as you are when I'm close to you. Plenty of time for showers when they're necessary. Which reminds me..."

I went to his side of the table, reached down and felt his trunks. They were drying from the warmth of his body as he was wearing them, and now they were just a little damp at the front, warm and still wet between his legs. Kenny squirmed a bit as he felt my hand near his cock and round his balls.

"If you do that, there will have to be a delay before we go shopping," he said firmly, but with a glint in his eye.

I stopped the pleasurable experience of fondling him again and went to clean my teeth while Kenny dressed in a clean T-shirt and jeans. Then he borrowed my toothbrush while I put on an old pair of hold-ups, selected a pair of loose silk pants, a T-shirt and cotton trousers to wear. We set out, walking in the morning sunshine and enjoying the fresh air.

"How do we carry everything back?" Kenny enquired.

"Oh, we'll get a taxi," I said.

We went first to the nearest supermarket, and spent an enjoyable hour filling our trolley with necessities and plenty of goodies. It seemed there wasn't much that Kenny didn't like to eat, which made things easier, and the freezer would be nicely stocked for a few weeks. I'd told him I would cook something at home tonight, and we added some fresh meat and vegetables and a nice crusty loaf to the trolley as well. At the end of an hour it was overloaded with stuff. Patiently we waited in the checkout queue. I had wondered if we might bump into one of Kenny's "clique" of friends, but discarded the idea since it seemed unlikely that any of them would be out on a shopping expedition.

When we finally got to the head of the queue the cashier took one look at the trolley and said;-

"You can have this delivered, if you want."

That seemed like an excellent plan and we arranged to have it delivered after three o'clock. It also meant that we had nothing to carry and lots of free time.