ONE PART
|
BillBrothel-Boy in Harlem
|
|||
SummaryDeShawn is the 11-year-old son of a crack-addicted whore, living in one of New York City's worst slums, where he is pimped out by his mother to pay for her drugs. When the owner of a brothel for beautiful young black boys makes a deal with the mother, DeShawn begins his new life as a highpriced brothel boy.
Publ. Jan 2011
![]() ![]() |
|||
CharactersDeShawn (11yo)Category & Story codesBoy Prostitution storyMb bb – cons prost oral anal mast – interr (Explanation) |
|||
DisclaimerIf you are under the legal age of majority in your area or have objections to this type of expression, please stop reading now.If you don't like reading stories about men having sex with boys, why are you here in the first place? This story is the complete and total product of the author's imagination and a work of fantasy, thus it is completely fictitious, i.e. it never happened and it doesn't mean to condone or endorse any of the acts that take place in it. The author certainly wouldn't want the things in this story happening to his character(s) to happen to anyone in real life. It is just a story, ok? |
|||
Author's noteLike it? Write to me at bil47_new(at)yahoo.com or use this feedback form with Bill – Brothel-Boy in Harlem in the subject line. |
|||
Chapter One"Wake up, DeShawn. You got work to do.""Yes, Mama," mumbled the boy, shielding his eyes as the light clicked on in the apartment's only bedroom. The customer stood just behind DeShawn's mother, smiling as the strikingly attractive 11-year-old rose from the bare double-bed mattress that the boy shared with his mother. DeShawn wore only dingy-white underpants on this summer night. The elastic was worn-out, causing the briefs to sag on the boy's taut waist. The foreskin-covered tip of his slender brown penis peeked out from the leg opening. "You done seen the boy," said the woman. "Show me the crackers." The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a small plastic bag containing white crystals. "That there's half a biscuit – 25 rocks. So, we got us a deal?" asked the man. "I know you jonesin' for a rock, woman, so let's get this goin'." The woman snatched at the bag of crack cocaine, her face previewing the look of euphoria that she soon would be feeling. She was pleased with herself for discovering how lucrative it could be to pimp her son; much more so than the $20 tricks she had been turning to feed her habit. She hurried off to where she kept the pipe hidden, her hands shaking as she prepared to inhale the first lungful of intoxicating smoke. As the man entered the bedroom and closed the door behind him, he continued to assess the boy's appearance. Just as his source had said, the lad was a prime example of boy-beauty – like a young African prince transported to New York City's worst slum. If he checked out in bed, and the mother could be bought, this boy would be a perfect addition to the business. "Take the underpants off, boy." "Yes, sir," said DeShawn politely. He'd always been a good child – quiet, respectful, and obedient. His fingers slipped inside the loose waistband of his briefs and pushed them down, leaving his dark-brown body complexly naked. The man smiled at the sight of the soft penis – finger-length, slender, and pointing downward. The half-size balls dangled in a loose sack. There was no pubic hair yet. Excellent! "Now stroke it stiff," said the man, feeling his pulse quicken as he removed his own trousers. "Yes, sir." DeShawn used his thumb and two fingers to manipulate his foreskin back and forth over the acorn-shaped cock-head. He was no stranger to stroking himself erect while others observed – either with customers or in casual sex-play with his neighborhood friends. In about 30 seconds his penis was pointing toward the ceiling, still beautifully slender, but now lengthened to over 4 inches [10 cm]. "You shoot the white stuff yet?" "No, sir." "That's good 3; real good!" The man reached through the slit at the front of his boxers and pulled out his own stiffening penis. "You know how to suck a cock, boy?" "Yes, sir. I do it right good, I'm told," said DeShawn proudly. "Show me. Get on your knees over here and do me for a time." DeShawn had been regularly servicing customers for more than 6 months, and he knew his way around a cock. Before that, he'd observed his mother sucking and being fucked in the apartment numerous times, ever since he was a toddler. All of the johns DeShawn serviced had been black, so he was accustomed to sucking well-hung men. (Few white men ventured to this neighborhood of the South Bronx for sex; fewer still would risk entering such a squalid tenement building.) The boy dropped to his knees and took the man's half-erect penis in his hand. He licked his lips as he stroked the cock a few times. Then his mouth came down, taking in a generous portion of the thick dark-brown rod. The cock stiffened fully as DeShawn bobbed his head up and down, taking a third of the shaft with each dip. The boy energetically twisted his mouth around the cock, slathering his tongue around it and skillfully pleasuring it with his lips. "Yeah! That's it!" grunted the man, as his hands caressed the kinky close-cropped hair on the boy's head. "Now take my cock as deep as you can." DeShawn inhaled a breath and focused his mind. He slid his lips down the shaft – pausing to relax his throat at the difficult part, just the way his mother had taught him (and her mother had taught her) – and then smoothly swallowed the rest the man's cock into his throat, burying his nose in the curly black hairs. "Oh, shit!" groaned the man, as he simultaneously pulled the boy's head closer and thrust his hips forward, enjoying the sensation of his cock grinding into the tight throat. When his hands finally released DeShawn's head from their grip, the boy's mouth slid back up and he gasped a breath. But without hesitation, his mouth plunged down again, deeply, and he began a deep-throat blowjob worthy of a porn star. For the next 10 minutes the only sounds in the room were the squishy slurping sounds of the boy's cock-sucking and the man's heavy breathing. "Jesus fucking Christ!" bellowed the man, as he pushed the boy's mouth off his cock. "You got some skills there, son!" He pulled DeShawn to his feet and began running his hands over the boy's body, focusing on the boyish erection and shapely rounded butt. "So, you been fucked enough that you don't whine about it?" "I won't whine, mister. Just don't shove it in too fast at first, and you can fuck me just as long and hard as you want." "That's what I like to hear!" said the man as he rubbed his hand affectionately on the boy's head. "Lay down on the mattress, face up, and pull back your legs." Ordinarily, the man would have enjoyed sucking the boy's cock and rimming his asshole before giving him a fuck, but DeShawn clearly hadn't bathed in some time, so the man passed on those preliminaries. He fetched the single-use packet of lube from his pants pocket, spread some on his erect cock, and then spread the rest on the boy's exposed hole. As soon as his fingers pressed against DeShawn's anal muscle, it flexed open to allow a finger to penetrate easily; then two fingers. The man positioned his penis and eased it forward slowly, grunting as his cock penetrated the 11-year-old's asshole. DeShawn grimaced slightly but was silent. And after a minute the boy was sighing with contentment, wrapping his legs around the man's haunches, encouraging deeper thrusts. The two quickly became partners in pleasure, the man easing into a steady rhythm of fuck-strokes, and the boy cooing like a dove as his hands explored the muscles of the man's arms and chest. Neither was in a hurry for it to end as they made love like long-time partners. But inevitably the man felt his orgasm rising up, and he did nothing to delay it. The fuck-strokes came quicker, harder, and he vocalized animalistic rutting sounds as his lust rose up like a cresting wave. DeShawn could feel his own climax coming on too. It didn't happen every time he was fucked; not even most times. But he felt the urge now and worked to achieve it, reaching down to manipulate the foreskin of his slender boy-boner. He gasped out urgent words of encouragement as he closed his eyes, his head lolling back, his back arched. The boy's mind focused on the physical sensations of pleasure and mental satisfaction of his sexual submission to a strong masculine partner. "Yes! YES! Fuck me!" "Yeah, baby. Here it cums! Take it! Ah! Ah! Ohhh, shit!" Spurts of hot semen shot deep into DeShawn's rectum, and almost simultaneously the boy's high-pitched voice squealed in ecstasy as his own pre-pubescent orgasm sent shivers of rapture coursing through his young body. The man relaxed his sweating body onto the boy's. They lay together, exhausted, as little aftershocks of their mutual climaxes prolonged the pleasure. The man's cock flexed a few times, and the boy responded by clenching the circle of his anal muscle around it. When the man's orgasm finally waned, he rolled onto his side, hugging the boy tightly. "You're a wicked good fuck, lil' bro!" "Thank you, sir," said DeShawn, reverting to his polite demeanor. "I got a proposition for you," said the man as they lay in intimate embrace. "I got a sort of a group home for boys at a townhouse down in the good part of Harlem. I keep eight boys, but one of them was getting all growed up, so he moved along. The seven I got now, they're right around your age 3; nice boys like you; fun to be around; and they all have nice clothes, and always have plenty of good food." At the mention of that last word, DeShawn's empty stomach rumbled audibly. "What's your favorite thing to eat, boy?" DeShawn thought for a moment. "I've had Kentucky Fried Chicken a few times; the extra crispy kind. It's powerful good!" "How would you like to have it whenever you want it?" "Well 3; yeah! I mean, yes sir! I'd sure like that." "How 'bout we ask your mama if you could try out living with my boys. If you don't like my place, you can come back here. I should tell you, though, that you'll have your own nice soft bed with clean white sheets. There's even a TV set attached to the foot of every boy's bed. Cool air conditioning in the summer, and plenty of comfortable heat in the winter. And you don't never have to go to school." DeShawn's eager face told the man everything he needed to know. "My name is Jerome, by the way. The boys call me Daddy J." He reached out his hand and they shook. "The lady who takes care of my boys is Mama Althea. She's a real sweet thing, and the boys all love her." "But what about MY mama? She need me to turn tricks so she get her medicine. She get all outta sorts if she don't smoke the medicine." "You still gonna be turning tricks, DeShawn, but the johns gonna be rich men. White men mostly; nice and clean. And don't worry 'bout your mama's, uh, medicine. She gonna get as much as she need for as long as you workin' for me. So let's get dressed now and I'll explain things to her. You stay here in the room til I call you out. Five minutes later 3;. "So, are you straight about the arrangement, sister? You be gettin' a daily bag of these here rocks from my man down on the corner; enough to keep you in paradise around the fuckin' clock. But if you start trouble-making about the boy, no more free rocks. Understood?" The bleary-eyed woman nodded her head, staring hungrily at the second bag of crack that the man had set on the kitchen table. And then she reached for the pipe and put in another crystal. Her brain was surging in a mental orgasm as DeShawn was trying to say goodbye to her. She shooed away the bothersome distraction and closed her eyes dreamily as the man and boy left the apartment. A half-hour later 3;. "Althea, this here is our new boy DeShawn." The pleasant-looking middle-aged woman gave a warm smile and hugged the boy against her ample bosom. "Welcome to your new home, darlin'! You look like you could use something to eat. You want me to make you a sandwich, baby?" "No thank you, ma'am. Daddy J he get me some fried chicken while we driving here. Thank you for asking though." "Oooo; you such a nice polite boy! We'll get along just fine! I got a left-over piece of the apple pie that I made for the boys' dinner. How's about I heat it up for you 3; with a scoop of ice cream on top?" "Thanks, but I'm all full-up right now." "I'll take him up to meet the boys," said the man. "How many of them still out working right now?" "Donte is with the music producer fella in a room at the Plaza. Should be coming home pretty soon. Michael just got back from his appointment with you-know-who. And Tito and CJ are doubling up on an overnight with our Wall Street friend who has the penthouse down in Tribeca. Nice piece of change coming in for that job! The others be relaxing upstairs." She glanced at her watch – it was 2:00 in the morning. "Mercy! Look at the time! Need to close down for the night and all of us get some sleep." "I hear ya, gal!" said Jerome. "I'll get DeShawn settled in nice and comfortable upstairs. Tomorrow we get his pictures taken and sent out to our regular customers. We be gettin' calls from the ones who always be wanting to try out a new boy." The three-story townhouse had once been a conventional brothel that offered the on-site sexual services of black women from the 1920s until only a few years ago. Now that it was a boy-brothel, there were still some rooms set aside for entertaining customers, but it was essentially an out-call operation offering select young black boys to an elite group of customers. A team of trusted gypsy-cab drivers were on call to take the boys anywhere in the New York City metro area, and the boys were always escorted to their appointments by well-dressed older women in Jerome's and Althea's employ. Nobody questioned a proper looking granny out with her well-dressed young grandson 3; even at a high-priced hotel in the middle of the night. The money brought in by the boys – $2,000 for an hour of sex, $10,000 for the whole night – kept the assistants well paid, loyal, and discrete. The overnight threesome at the penthouse down in Tribeca was bringing in a cool $20,000. When DeShawn reached to the top floor of the house, he entered a large open room with four sets of bunk beds at one end. Chairs, two sofas, and a big-screen TV occupied the rest. An oversized bathroom with a dormitory-style group shower was at the back. "Hey boys!" called out Jerome. "I want you to meet your new brother, DeShawn." Four faces looked up at the boy, all of them friendly and welcoming. They had all been in the new-boy once and knew the importance of making DeShawn feel comfortable. The man began introducing them. "This here is Gary." The short baby-faced 11-year-old with milk-chocolate skin could have passed for younger, looking like a cute boy of 9 or 10. He was dressed in expensive brand-name boys' clothing in a preppy style that would be the norm in an exclusive private school. "This is Darnel." The dark-skinned 12-year-old was exquisitely attractive; taller than DeShawn and a bit farther along in maturity. He too was dressed in high-end Polo and Lacoste. "This is Hakim." The light-skinned 13-year-old had fluffy afro hair and was dressed in an upscale hip-hop style. He looked tough at first glance, but his warm smile suggested otherwise. When they came to the fourth boy, DeShawn was totally confused. He was looking at a very attractive young girl. She had straightened hair, cut stylishly short; her makeup that was skillfully applied and sexy; and she wore a short Asian-style silk robe, like a bar girl at a Bangkok sex club. "This is Michael," said the man. "But he likes to be called Michelle 3; don't you darlin'. Show DeShawn what you got." The totally effeminate light-skinned boy parted the robe at the top to display shapely little budding breasts. But then the 12-year-old opened the robe the rest of the way to show his handsome barely-pubescent penis, the base of which had been waxed to hairless smoothness. "Daddy J is getting me hormone shots. I'll be a woman someday," he said in a sissy-fag voice. One of his hands came up to fondle his titties, stimulating the puffy nipples to stiff little nubs. The other hand went to his cock, causing it to rise up in erection. He looked at DeShawn with a smolderingly sexy gaze as he ran his tongue over his sensuous lipstick-tinted mouth. DeShawn had seen a couple adult tranny whores on the street trying to pick up johns. But the effect of seeing this pre-teen shemale, naked and aroused, left him speechless and slack-jawed. "Alright boys," said Jerome. "It's 2:00 a.m. – quittin' time. How about you show DeShawn some fun after he takes a shower, and then y'all get some sleep. DeShawn; you hand me those old clothes of yours and go clean yourself up good in the shower. Lots of hot water and soap. Workin' time starts at noon tomorrow." DeShawn stripped off his old and dirty clothes, and Jerome transferred them immediately to a garbage bag, to be tossed out with the trash. "We'll go out and buy some new clothes when you get up tomorrow. Meantime, Darnel, you lend him some of yours," said the man as he left the room. While DeShawn was undressing, so were the others. In a minute, all five boys were naked and giddily stroking their penises to youthful erections. Even pudgy little Gary had a nice boner; thumb-size and standing up above his compact rounded ball-sack. "Come on back to the showers, man," said Hakim. We all gonna get nice and clean, and then have us our night-time fun." The five naked boys ran boisterously to the bathroom, their stiff penises bobbing and swaying. Inside the group-shower area they each turned on separate water-streams and began soaping up. "The customers sure gonna LOVE you," said Michael, as his sudsy hands massaged his perfect young-girl breasts. "In fact, I know I'm gonna love you too!" he added with a giggle. "We all play around with each other after quittin' time," he said as his eyes scanned down DeShawn's body and he reached out to rub the new boy's beautifully slender erection. "And you can fuck me tonight if you want," said the tranny-boy, turning around to display his sexy round butt, giving it a wiggle. "In fact, you can fuck me anytime you like!"
Chapter TwoThe Client's PerspectiveThe taxi dropped me off in front of Silvia's, a well-known restaurant in an increasingly upscale section of Harlem, but I didn't go inside. Instead I walked three blocks to a large but inconspicuous townhouse that housed the boy-brothel. It seemed that nobody had recognized me since I had left the hotel, which was both a relief and perhaps a little depressing. My fame as a rock musician had peaked more than 30 years ago. Although my name is still well-known, and I still tour internationally with a good band and a small entourage, I'm practically anonymous when not on stage performing for my loyal middle-aged fan base. But I was recognized immediately by the well-dressed black woman who greeted me warmly at the door."Come on in! Welcome back! Been a while since you been here. You lookin' good, sugar!" said the establishment's manager and the brothel-boys' surrogate mother. "Thanks, Althea. You're looking as gorgeous as ever," I said. "And it's good to be back in New York. I got your e-mail yesterday with the pictures of your new boy, just after I rolled into town. I couldn't resist a little lunchtime fun." After I paid the $2,000 fee, I was led up to a bedroom, and Althea went to fetch the boy. The room was furnished in a fresh modern style, dominated by a large platform bed that was covered with a satin sheet and topped with a variety of cushions and pillows. I quickly removed my clothing, all except the loose polo shirt covering my paunchy stomach. (I was in no hurry to show off my 60-year-old body, even to a brothel-boy.) I've always used my concert tours as an opportunity to satisfy my sexual compulsion for young boys. Here in New York City there are several brothels that I patronize when I'm in town, each with its own specialty. This one in Harlem has its sexy young black boys; there's an assortment of delightful Asian boys at the place in Chinatown; Russian and Ukrainian boys are featured at a brothel in Queens. And then there's that wildly expensive establishment in Midtown Manhattan specializing in very young 'boy next door' types – totally beautiful and surprisingly talented white boys of 7 to 9 years. I can't afford to be as free with my money as in the past, however, so I save that one for a special treat every few years. I'm also more careful in general about my activities with boys these days than I was in the past, almost never running the risk of having a boy brought to my hotel room, except when I'm in one of the handful of countries that are very tolerant of such things. Usually I just slip away from my entourage during the daytime for an hour of pleasure at a discrete brothel like this one. Although I still keep in touch with my circle of boy-lover acquaintances and trade information about brothels, I have stopped accepting their invitations to the crazy boy-sex parties I used to enjoy so much. But I often think back fondly to those days of decadent excess. In fact, as I was sitting there in the Harlem brothel waiting for my boy to arrive, my mind drifted back 20 years to an epic cocaine-fueled man/boy orgy I attended at the Neverland Ranch out in California. The famous host had generously shared many of the boys from his impressive stable of special young friends, and his assistants had also procured an diverse assortment of young rent-boys, resulting in a ratio of more than two boys for each of the twenty or so men in attendance. I must have sampled the charms of a half-dozen beautiful naked boys that night, but I spent most of my time having intense sexual fun with a well known 12-year-old actor who was in the cast of a highly rated TV show at the time. The host of the party had been inseparable from the massively famous little-boy movie star who was his constant companion back then. The vision of those two fucking was burned into my erotic memory, and I closed my eyes to re-live it. I remember Michael reclining on a custom-made piece of sex furniture in the middle of his ornate orgy room. Macaulay was straddling Michael's hips and riding his cock like a naked little cowboy on a pony, while the King of Pop lovingly masturbated the 10-year-old's immature boner. Jonathan and I, along with other pairs of naked boys and men, had gathered around, kissing and fondling each other as we watched the two super-stars go at it. In the middle of my mind's travel through erotic reminiscence, the door opened and an 11-year-old black boy entered the room. "Hi!" said the smiling lad in a soft cheerful voice. I looked up, removed my hand from my stiff cock, and watched as the delicately handsome black boy came toward me, looking like a model in a catalogue for high-end children's clothing. "So you're DeShawn." I recognized him immediately from the encrypted e-mail I received the previous day, which had contained a detailed description and pictures of the new brothel-boy. "Do you know who I am?" "No, sir. I surely don't." The boy looked sincere when he said it, which always set my mind at ease. I patted the bed next to me, directing DeShawn to sit. I wrapped my arms around the boy and leaned down to kiss him. As our lips met, the boy's tongue emerged, eagerly snaking into my mouth. I sighed with pleasure as I traded deep tongue-kisses with the compliant boy. "Take off your clothes, DeShawn," I said as our kiss broke. "I'll bet you've got a beautiful cock." In fact, I had already seen a close-up his erect penis in the pictures I received, and I was eager to savor its erotic beauty in real life. The boy hopped up from the bed and stood directly in front of me, unbuttoning his shirt, unhooking his belt, and unfastening his trousers so they were poised to slide down his legs. "You wanna finish undressing me?" he asked in a flirty voice and with a sensuous expression. "I think you already know the answer to that question! Come closer, sweety." I drew the boy in, so he was standing between my spread legs. Sliding the boy's oxford shirt off his shoulders and down his arms, I let my hands wander all over the smooth milk-chocolate skin of DeShawn's slender torso. Then my fingers nudged the boy's unzipped trousers, and they slid down to his ankles, fully revealing DeShawn's skimpy white briefs. I rubbed the little bulge at the front pouch of the underpants, feeling the boy's penis begin to stiffen inside. Oh, yes! This was nice. My other hand slid behind him, caressing his firm rounded butt through the thin tight-stretched material. We kissed again, long and deeply, arms wrapping around each other in a tender embrace. "Take off your underpants, sweetie. Do a strip-tease for me." The boy smiled, and backed up a couple steps. Without a word, he began moving his hips rhythmically in time to imagined music. His hands moved sensuously over his body in an erotic dance that further enflamed my senses. Several times DeShawn lowered the front or back of his briefs for a moment and then raised them back up, showing me flashes of his fully-erect penis and his shapely brown buttocks. Each time he teased me like that, an erotic shiver ran through my body. I began to stroke my straining cock as I watched DeShawn's dance, feeling the familiar rapid surge of boy-induced sexual arousal. It's never as intense when I have sex with a mature teenage boy, a man, or a female of any age. There's something unique about a boy on the cusp of puberty that is totally irresistible, and I could never willingly give it up. When the boy finally lowered and removed his underpants and was totally naked, he continued his erotic dance for my enjoyment. "Do you think I look sexy?" he asked in a sweet voice as his hips made subtle little forward thrusts and he inched closer to me. His fingers lightly stroked the shaft of his pre-pubescent boner, and he added: "Do you like my little penis?" "It's absolutely perfect," I told him with total sincerity. The smooth slender erection stood up absolutely rigid, just over 4 inches [10 cm] in length, with its foreskin pulled back to expose the cutest little glans. Half-size balls dangled in a small soft pouch, just begging to be fondled and licked. My mouth was watering as I removed my shirt and dropped to the floor on my knees, immediately taking the boy's beautiful erection into my mouth. I felt the burst of sexual euphoria that I always experienced when I sucked a young boy's developing cock down to its hairless base. One of my hands reached up to play with his precious little balls while the other went around to fondle his smooth firm butt. As my lips and tongue slurped at DeShawn's immature erection, my ecstatic moans joined with the boy's high-pitched pleasure noises, filling the room with the sounds of sex. This was what I craved – worshipping the cock of a pre-teen boy, feeling his slender young body, and inhaling his subtle boy-scent. I have always enjoyed making love to a black boy. Perhaps because their cocks are a bit longer than white or Asian boys at the same stage of sexual development; or maybe the distinctive intoxicating smell of a black boy's body. Someday I'll do another concert tour of South Africa and Kenya, with limitless opportunities for freely indulging my fetish for ebony-skinnned African boys. But for now I would enjoy every moment with this chocolate-brown African-American. I worked my mouth aggressively on the boy's stiff penis, knowing from the cooing sounds of sexual pleasure and the trembling of his leg muscles that DeShawn was approaching a boyish climax. With my lips racing up and down the slender shaft, and my tongue slathering all around the small glans, I savored the intense thrill of inducing a dry orgasm from the boy's twitching boner. He held onto my head to steady himself as shivers of pleasure shook his whole body. I knew from experience that he would be capable of multiple orgasms, and I was tempted to give him another with my mouth. But as I lifted my head from the throbbing spit-slick young cock, I knew immediately what I wanted to do next with the boy. "Have you ever fucked a man before?" DeShawn looked surprised. "No, sir; I never done that to a man," he said. "But me and Juanito, my friend back in the 'hood, we fucked each other lottsa times!" Then he smiled at me mischievously. "You really want me to fuck you?" "Yeah; I want you to," I said, as I lay back on the bed with a cushion under my butt and pulled my legs back. "But first I want you to rim me. I'll bet you're good at that." DeShawn smiled at me and winked. He was good at it alright; not at all squeamish about diving right in to lick my asshole. He got on his knees at the bedside, spread my ass cheeks, and dipped his face down onto me. His tongue made several long broad strokes, like licking an ice cream cone, then flicked rapidly around the sensitive outer flesh of my puckered hole, and finally stiffened to bore deeply into the circle of muscle and sensitive nerves. "OH, yeah! Keep doing it just like that," I gasped, as DeShawn rimmed my asshole deeply and enthusiastically. I would have enjoyed letting him go on like that forever, but I wanted more. "Now fuck me!" The boy went to the bedside table and got the bottle of lube, slathering it onto his still-rigid little cock. As good a job as he'd done with his tongue, I didn't really need the lube, but what the hell. My butt was right on the edge of the bed, and my legs were still pulled back. Standing beside the bed, DeShawn used one hand on the back of my leg to steady himself as he leaned in. His other hand pushed down on his slippery boy-cock to guide it into position. His hips thrust forward, and the finger-size erection slid in all the way to the hilt. Oh, yeah! His cock was the perfect length and girth for me. This was the perfect way to be fucked. None of the initial discomfort of a large cock going in. Just the delightful feeling of his warm stiff sex-flesh moving back and forth, triggering all of the pleasure nerves around my anus. And I loved being on my back so I could watch him fucking me. The look of joy on his face as he moved his body; the way he closed his eyes and threw back his head as he worked his way to another immature orgasm. I slowly masturbated my own cock as I rode the wave of pleasure, careful not to push myself so far that I came too soon. At my age, it would take a while to recharge my cock to a second erection, and I wanted to save up for more fun with this beautiful black boy. As I stroked myself along a delicious sexual plateau, the boy's hips began moving in rapid jerking thrusts, his body shaking, and his whimpering squeals of ecstasy signaled a dry-cum orgasm. I pulled him down onto me, his boner still buried in my ass, and I hugged him tightly. We kissed, our tongues sliding together gently, and my hands wandered languidly over his shoulders and back and buttocks. "That was great, DeShawn!" I whispered in his ear as we lay there peacefully. "I think you liked it too." "Yes, sir! I surely did!" "My turn now," I said. "I want you give me a suck, but don't make me cum. Then I want you to ride my cock while I lay back, until I cum inside you." "I can do that just fine!" he said with a grin. DeShawn's still-erect penis popped out of my ass as his body wiggled down do he could suck me. Kneeling on the floor, between my wide-spread legs, he parted his lips and took me into his mouth. For several intense minutes, his talented tongue worked at my cock-head with an incredible technique, and then his lips slid down my shaft. He took fully half of my erection with one downward swoop, then backed off a little, then came down further. With rhythmic up-and-down motions he sucked me ever-deeper, effortlessly swallowing my cock into his tight throat, until he had taken the entire shaft, and his lips pressed against my short-trimmed pubic hair. I groaned with delight as he stayed all the way down on me, massaging my sensitive glans with his throat muscles. Damn! This kid had some impressive skills. When his mouth finally rose back up the shaft, he gasped for a breath, but them quickly slid all the way down again. He began a slow steady cadence of full-length suck-stokes that had my body writhing with sexual tension as I clutched at the satin sheets with my clenched fists. If he wasn't the best young-boy cock-sucker I've ever had, he was certainly near the top. Much as body demanded the relief of orgasm, I also wanted to take DeShawn up his beautiful brown-skinned ass. When I pulled his head away from my cock, it glistened with his saliva. He looked up at me and smiled. "Want me to ride you now?" "Yes, sweetie. I want it so much!" I replied. The bottle of lube was on the bed beside us, and he slathered the slippery fluid on my throbbing erection and reached back to quickly finger his anus. Then DeShawn straddled my hips, positioned my cock with his hand, and lowered his ass down onto me. As I slid all the way into him, the look on his face was one of pure pleasure. His leg muscles began to flex, making my stiff penis slide back and forth inside his tight warm asshole. With each up-stroke he dilated his anal muscle open, and on the down-stroke he clenched tight. Damn! That felt so incredible! I lay back, letting him pleasure me, as I watched his body move. My hands slid along his sleek thighs, then up to his smooth skinny chest, and down his taut belly to his exquisite penis. His slender boner had remained fully stiff throughout, and I couldn't resist masturbating it. Grabbing for the bottle of lube, I poured a generous amount on my hand and returned it to DeShawn's straining boy-cock. My whole fist began giving the boy a vigorous twisting hand job. At first it threw off his rhythm, as his trembling body pausing briefly in its skillful mounting of my cock. Then he returned to the up-and-down ride, more quickly this time. My eyes and ears attested that he was enjoying our coupling every bit as much as I was. The growing pressure in my groin signaled that my orgasm was overdue. I began to thrust my hips up every time DeShawn lowered his hips down, and I increased the speed and pressure of my hand on his penis. Both our bodies went into over-drive as our mutual lust drove us to achieve our ultimate goal. He came first, his squealing whimper announcing his orgasm, as his tight anal muscle vibrated along my cock, sending me over the edge. I rode a wave of ecstasy as I spewed pulses of semen deep into the boy's trembling body. At last, I pulled him down onto me and hugged him fiercely as our mouths mashed together in a sloppy kiss. God, that was a good cum! We lay there together enjoying the afterglow of our fuck, and then it was over. My lust fully sated, I rose up to get dressed. DeShawn continued to lay naked on the bed, posing sexily for me. I pulled out my wallet and extracted several twenties and put them on the bedside table for his tip. "Thanks, sweetie. Next time I'm in New York, we'll do it again." Walking out onto the bustling streets of Harlem, I felt like I was walking on a cloud.
The End (for now)I always appreciate feedback. Write to me at bil47_new(at)yahoo(dot)com or use this feedback form with Bill – Brothel-Boy in Harlem in the subject line. |