Boy Was Foine

Your NSFW document at says you can flag your blog as NSFW "If your blog contains nudity or adult-oriented content, please respect the choices of the people in our community and flag your blog as “adult-oriented” on your Settings page." However there is no place on the "Settings" page located at Just when he was about to give up hope the bumper to bumper traffic crept forward. Los Angeles thought Mark Chapman, traffic capital of the world. Growing frustrated with the snail pace traffic Mark started looking for the first exit available. The hopelessly snarled traffic, however, presented Mark with no outlet. Damn! He thought, I could make the whole trip from my home in Brentwood to the Downtown area faster than I could make this next off-ramp! Finally, he edged forward far enough to get around an old beat up Dodge Colt and away from the freeway. Now what? He thought. Spying a hamburger stand he decided to kill the time getting some grub.

Seeing the old burger place reminded him of his old neighborhood. A patio served as the only eating area, so Mark ordered and retired to one of the tables to wait. As he waited he began taking in the sights. There were good looking kids everywhere. To bad he couldn't just take one of them home, he thought. Looking at all these cuties he remembered an old idea he used to have, back when he was broke. Before he'd become a successful businessman, he would drive around the old neighborhood, drooling over these gorgeous boys and wish he had the money to proposition one of them. It was then that he saw this kid swaggering up to the stand, and the boy was beyond fine, he was foine.

"Yeah, lemme have a cheeseburger, fries and a coke" he said, adding "And make the fries fresh, man."

Mark couldn't take his eyes off of him. He looked to be about 18, but what made him so hot was that he wasn't wearing a shirt and God was his body ever sweet! His physique was that of a mature male coupled with boyish softness. His skin was silky smooth and tan colored, but it was hard to tell what nationality he was. He appeared to be a mix of Hispanic and black. His young chest was well defined while still maintaining a boyish roundness. This dropped down into a mild six pack of boy muscles on his stomach, which nonetheless protruded slightly with baby fat. A chance for just one night with this knockout was all Mark could pray for, but how? To his surprise, the boy practically created the opportunity for him plopping down at a table next to him with his order. As they sat munching on their burger and fries Mark looked around to make sure that no one was close enough to hear. Gathering his courage, he candidly said, " You care to make some money?" The boy looked up a little dumb founded.

"Say what?" he asked.

Undaunted, Mark continued. "I said, would you care to make some money?"

After a moments hesitation the youth asked, " What kind of money you talking 'bout?"

Just what I wanted to hear, Mark thought, just take your time and reel this big fish in.

Emboldened now, he proposed, " Well let's start out with $100."

The kids' eyes widened as he turned to look at Mark with gathering interest.

"$100!" he said, grinning smugly around a mouth full of hamburger. "No shit? Yeah, but for what?"

"To spend the evening with me"

The kid swallowed and said, "Spend the evening? Doing what?"

"Making $100. But that's just my opening offer. You could stand to make that and even twice as much, depending on how well you do."

"How well I do? How well I do what?" he insisted.

"What do you care, you could make well over $200 for one night"

The kid's face was a study in total consternation. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"You goin to pay me $200 to go with you? "

"What for?"

"Just believe me, you'll enjoy yourself. And I'm talking $200, plus! So you in or what?" Mark persisted.

The kid sat silent for a few minutes considering the proposition.

"You got that kind of money?" he inquired, seeking reassurance.

"And more. But no funny shit. You try taking advantage of me, and I ship you out with no pay." The kid looked Mark up and down sizing him up. Finally, he did a little nod of his head and said, "A'ight man, I'm in."

The teenager sat quietly slouched slightly in a street pose as they traveled. He still wasn't wearing a shirt, and Mark could hardly keep from snatching flashes at his luscious chest, and his angelic face. A baseball cap, turned backwards, sat on his, apparently, naturally curly hair. His only other apparel consisted of a pair of striped denim overalls with the straps dangling loose from his waist, white socks, and some fairly new looking Nikes. Mark navigated the late model sports car through the city traffic with ease, opting to take the streets to his Brentwood home rather than the freeway.

"I'm Mark, by the way. What's your name?"

"DeRon, man, but everybody calls me Poet."

"Poet, huh? Why Poet?"

"Cuz, I got mad skills with the rap, and poetry" he answered proudly.

"You'll have to let me hear some of that, one time," Mark said, intrigued. They retreated into the agonizing silence again.

After a while Mark asked, "So, where do you live?"

"Right up the street from that burger joint" he answered cautiously.

"Oh, " Mark replied. They drove along in silence until Mark decided to ask,

"Who do you stay with?"

"My moms and my kid brother," the kid shot back, obviously wary of offering too much info to a total stranger.

Hoping to relax the kid, Mark volunteered that he was raised not too far from that neighborhood.

"Yeah? Where you stay now?" Poet asked, a little less guarded.


"Damn" the kid replied amazed

Fleeing into their silence again they rode along until the kid suddenly asked,

"You a fag, huh?"

The kid's blunt manner shocked him. Not wanting to alarm the boy he finally said, "Would that be a problem if I was?"

The kid sat watching him for a couple of minutes trying to decide.

"So that's what this is all about, huh?" he said after a while.

Mark chose to let him simmer. Let's see what he does, he concluded.

"You a fag, man" the kid repeated, disdain in his voice.

"So what you want me to do, man?" he demanded more determined this time

Damn, Mark thought. If only I was closer to my house! Hoping to put the kid off a little longer he said, "Like I said. For $200 plus, why should you care?"

The kid grew silent again, and Mark took that as consent, albeit, shaky. He floored the Beamer gunning for his home.

When Mark reached his house he parked in his huge garage and, with Poet in tow, entered his fabulous home. Viewing the house, Poet stood in awe.

"All this is yours?" Poet demanded overwhelmed by the sheer elegance of the man's place.

"All this is mine" Mark asserted.

"Damn, man, you got it like that" the kid said suddenly astonished at Mark's success.

"Follow me" he told the kid.

Upon entering the foyer, Mark's 6'2", 228 pound, combination bodyguard-butler greeted them.

"Good evening Mr. Chapman" he said with a deep voice. "Take your coat?"

"Thank you Albert" Mark said.

"Who the fuck was that?" Poet exclaimed after Albert had left.

"That's Albert. He makes sure everything is safe around here."

"Ya, damn straight" Poet agreed.

"Let's get settled in" Mark offered. When Albert returned, Mark instructed him that he would need to make accommodations for his guest.

"Alright" Albert said and led them to the upstairs rooms.

"Albert will see to you getting situated while I tend to some other things" Mark told Poet and left them.

Giving them a few minutes, Mark went to his room. After a sufficient wait he buzzed the intercom for Albert. Albert answered him on the intercom in the boy's room.

"Albert, when you have a minute, can I see you?"

"Of course" he replied.

When the huge man appeared at his door, Mark looked up from his computer and asked him what the boy was doing.

"He's gawking at his 'accommodations'" he replied.

"Good. Have him take a shower, and tell him there's money in it for him if he's squeaky clean."

"Alright" Albert said turning to leave.

"Oh, and Albert, if he's got the kind of feet I like tell him he gets $50 extra, and $50 more if I like his dick."

"And leave the COM open so I can hear what you say," Mark added.

"Alright" Albert said, and left.

As he sat anxiously waiting, he finally heard Albert turn on the COM and say, " Mr. Chapman, the blue towels or the red?" What an excellent ruse to throw the kid off of their little scheme, Mark thought. "The red one's" he answered. He sat back in his chair to listen to the COM.

"These are your towels. Mr. Chapman would like for you to take a shower. He also told me to let you know that there was extra money in it for you if you get extra clean."

In a suspect voice he heard the kid say, "Extra clean?"

"Yes, extra clean."

There was a pause, and Mark imagined that the kid was taking all this in, like he'd done before. He silently dared the kid to cross yet one more line, hoping he wouldn't back out now.

"Yeah, whatever." He heard, finally. Then he heard rustling of clothes and Mark's dick began to get hard as he imagined the boy removing his clothes.

"Ain't you goin' leave?" he heard the kid ask.

"Actually, I need to get you clothes, I'm sure you won't need them anymore."

"Won't be needing them anymore? Why not, he want me to parade around naked?"

"No. He'll probably buy you a whole new outfit. So could you just hand me those things you're wearing and I'll dispose of them."

"What 'cha mean, dispose of them. You goin throw them away?"

"You don't want me to?"

"Naw, not yet"

"Alright. We'll pack them in a duffel bag for you."

Again Mark heard the ruffling of clothes and then he heard Albert say, "You just got an extra $50 for those good looking feet of yours." Mark was beside himself with desire upon hearing that.

"My feet! You like my feet?" he heard the kid asked perturbed.

"Not me. Mr. Chapman."

There was more ruffling of clothes and then he heard Albert say, "I suppose you'll get a big bonus for that"

That's when the kid said, "Man listen, I ain't no faggot! I don't know what you guys is thinkin, but I ain't no faggot!"

Fearing he'd loose the kid at this point Mark beeped the intercom in the room.

"Yes?" he heard Albert say.

"Is everything alright?"

"Naw, man!" the kid shouted into the intercom.

"What the fuck is goin on here?" he raged.

"It sounds like $300, so far, to me" Mark said calmly.

There was a pause so long, Mark feared it was all over. In time, he heard the water in the shower being turned on and Albert saying, "He's gone into the shower, sir."

Mark breathed a sigh of relief and sat back in his chair.

Back in the room Albert stuck his head into the bathroom where the boy stood naked in the shower.

"When you finish, exit the bathroom through that door" he said pointing to the opposite door.

"Yeah." Poet answered a little sullen. "What I'm suppose to wear?"

"This," Albert said handing him a red silk nightshirt and white briefs.

Poet exited the bathroom's bright light into a darkened room. As he squinted trying to adjust his eyes to the darkness, the lights in the bathroom begin darkening too, until it was only a diffused light. Mark sat in a chair far enough into the darkened room not to be seen yet. He wore a red silk bathrobe, and smelled sweet from his own shower. He nearly swooned as he watched this bronze Adonis standing in the bathroom door's light. The shower water had turned the boy's curly hair into beautiful ringlets, enhancing his tender features. The boy, truly, was a work of art. His gorgeous, tan, hairless body was dripping wet from the shower, and scantily clad with the red towel. Mark took it all in, from his pert red nipples, to his taut stomach and down his lightly fleeced legs, dripping still with water, to his feet. He paid special attention to the boy's large feet. Just as Albert had said, they were to his liking, wide, with soft pink soles, and long suckable toes. He watched as the boy finished drying off still searching the room trying to make out shapes. Mark didn't move until he'd put on the shirt and briefs. Unable to contain himself any longer, he finally got up from the chair and approached the kid.

He stood facing him feasting on his utter beauty. "You look great," he whispered. Poet looked at him still wary of the man's intentions. "Let's see what we got," Mark said reaching out to unbutton his shirt. Poet stood silent as the man worked on the buttons. Once the buttons were undone the shirt fell open to uncover his soft smooth pecs. Mark, resolving that it was now or never, bent down and took one of them into his mouth. The smell of his freshly scrubbed body was intoxicating as he enclosed the nipple in his warm mouth. He swathed his tongue over the pert nipple raking it erect. "Damn!" Poet murmured stunned by the sheer pleasure the man's mouth was generating on his raw nipple. To his dismay, there was a stir in his groin. Frightened by the implications of what that meant, he jerked away.

Calmly Mark asked him, "What's wrong? You're not backing out now, are you?"

"I don't know," he said, visibly shaken.

"I ain't no fag, man. I don't play like that."

"Nobody's calling you a fag, man." Mark said softly, calmly.

"It's just--"

"Man, dudes don't s'pose to be doing this shit with each, man" the boy explained, perplexed.

"Listen man, I don't want to make you do something you don't want to do. You want to call it quits?" Mark said, resolutely.

The kid looked down at his feet and pondered this question.

After a few minutes he said, "I leave now, and I don't get nothin, huh?"

"I'm afraid not?" Mark replied.

The boy looked around the room stalling for time. Eventually he grew frustrated and demanded,

"So why you like doing this, man?"

"Because I found out it feels good. You will too, if you relax, man." Mark answered patiently.

"Didn't it feel good to you?" He continued.

Poet looked down at his feet again, silent. Mark dared to continue, taking his silence, once again, to mean consent. He returned to the boy's nipple and began encircling the little red fireball with his tongue. Again the sensation was incredible to the boy and again it frightened him. He pulled away gently this time drawing his erect nipple from the man's mouth. Mark had enough experience with boy virgins to know different, however. His head was saying no, but his body was saying yes. Mark guided the boy over to the bed, and had him sit. He ventured to try sucking the boy's pert nipples again. This time he lapped at them, tracing all over his pecs, and nipples. Fearing he would get aroused again, Poet fought to will his body not to respond. He lay back on his elbows trying not to get aroused, but as the man licked on his exposed nipples he couldn't stop the stir in his groin. Mark was enraptured as he tongued over the boy's nipples. He worked on them feverishly knowing that if he kept it up, the boy's body would win out. As he sucked, licked and lapped at his nipple he soon got his reward, a firm bulge in the boy's briefs.

Seeing that his dick had responded, Mark began licking down his chest and over his stomach. Poet groaned ever so slightly. His body was betraying him. His dick was hard, and this was feeling good. He sat up suddenly as he felt the man licking toward his groin. He watched him as his tongue licked at the top hairs of his pubic region. Then the man licked further down and ran his tongue over his sensitive erect boy organ through the briefs. His tongue wet the briefs revealing the imprint of his brick hard prick. Poet knew he shouldn't be liking this, but his dick had a mind of it's own. He resolved to never let any of his friends know he had let a fag lick all on his body. He had only came with the guy because the money offered was too hard to resist. Twice he had thought of bailing because he had his suspicion it would lead to this, but a poor kid like himself didn't readily turn down $200. And now this punk was slobbering all over his dick. Damn! If Jimmy and the boys ever found this out, he'd be dead! He needed to make his dick go down, he thought. Just then, however, the man pulled his briefs back to expose his throbbing boy rod. It sprang from his groin, standing at attention.

This kid was begging to be serviced, and Mark obliged him sliding his hot wet mouth over his aching hard cock. "Shit!" Poet cried. The couple of times he had fucked around with women they had never sucked his dick. The feel of the man's wet mouth enveloping his dick was indescribable. He tried not to react to the man's slurping mouth, but every time his mouth slipped down over it, his dick throbbed harder. The man had a mouth like a velvet vacuum. His body went into autopilot. As the man laved up and down his ramrod he found that he couldn't stop his dick from raising up to meet his downward thrusts. Soon, every time the man would go down his stiff shaft, Poet found it would thrust up to meet him drawing him closer to his imminent orgasm. Then, just when he thought he was about to let loose, the man left his dick and began traveling down his legs, licking as he went. He couldn't stop watching as he traveled down his legs. What is he doing? He thought. The man had reached his feet now. Poet watched, mesmerized as the man lifted his foot to his mouth. This freakin Homo is crazy, Poet thought, but couldn't bring himself to make the man stop.

Little by little, the man's actions was getting him very hot. Never, in all his 18 years, had anyone paid this much attention to him, and especially not sexually. His few sexual experiences had been, to say the least, disappointing. Either the girl was so afraid of getting pregnant she wouldn't go all the way, or he'd hump her fast and hard and then shoot, essentially, using the girls pussy, to jack off. But this guy was almost worshiping his body, and making him like it. Mark was licking the soft pink sole of the boy's foot, now. Poet curled his toes not knowing what to make of this new sensation. It should have been tickling but it was instead making him even hotter. Mark continued his foot service up the boy's velvet soft sole to his widespread toes. He licked up the bottom of the big toe and looked up into the boy's big brown eyes. So that's what Arnold Schwartinigga meant about a bonus for his feet, Poet thought. This geek likes to suck on toes. No matter, at this point, everything was feeling good. The man was laving every one of his long, slender toes. Poet watched entranced. Then Mark repeated his performance on the other foot. Poet would have never imagined feet could be so sensual, until tonight. He heard himself gasp softly as the man ran his tongue over his big feet. This faggot was turning him out, and making him like it!

The man started licking back up his long soft legs toward his swollen shaft. But he faked him out again and went down on his dangling balls. He found himself hissing as the man lapped at his tender orbs, eventually, engulfing them in his sensuous mouth. Then the man lifted his legs and spread them wide. 'Oh, Oh!' Poet thought, he's goin for the ass! Just as I thought, this freakin faggot thinks he's goin to fuck my ass. Hell no! He thought, but then the man surprised him again. He stuck out his tongue and licked around the little space of skin that was between his balls and his ass, and God Damn if that didn't feel jood! Finding his asshole the man started running his hot wet tongue over it. Mother Fuck, here he was laying on his back his legs spread to the ends of the earth with a faggot lapping at his ass, and he was liking it! His ass was begging for more. He could feel an itch starting way up his asshole aching for the man's tongue to caress it. And the man didn't disappoint him either. He felt his tongue wiggling up his ass, touching where no one had ever been before. His legs started spreading wider, involuntarily, trying to work more of the man's tongue further up his ass. What the fuck am I doing? Poet thought. I'm letting this fag punk me, he reasoned. Just as he was about to protest, the man started slipping a finger up his tunnel as he licked up to his balls.

By the time Poet had reached down to remove his finger, he had reached the pulsing knob of his hard dick. Then he slipped his silky mouth back over his dick, making it jump. He was pumping up and down the boy's dick like a vise, now. Poet could hardly keep up with all the stimulation coming at him. His dick was afire with the pleasure Mark was giving him, while, against his better judgment, a finger was sliding up his tight boy ass. His toes dug into the bed sheets as his legs fell open, spreading wide. Raising up on his elbows, Poet looked through his splayed legs to see what this man was doing to him. He knew he should stop him, but he couldn't. His mouth fell open in a silent scream as the man's mouth glided up and down his extended, aching dick.

Mark looked up into the boy's gorgeous eyes as he sucked on his engorged, 7 inch, boycock. He knew he had the kid in the palm of his hand. Momentarily, he let his hot dick fall from his mouth and licked on one of his nipples. Poet threw his head back and moaned. Mark looked deep into his eyes and said, "You look so hot right now." Then he sucked on the boy's nipple again while still holding him with his eyes. "It's good, ain't it?" Mark taunted him, knowing the boy was helpless to his ministrations. Poet wouldn't say anything, but Mark was unperturbed. He had found the boy's bulging prostate deep up his ass, and turned his hand palm up so that he could massage it with his finger. He massaged it gently, with the finger shoved up the boy's tight ass. "I said, it's good, ain't it" Mark repeated.

"God Damn!" Poet cried, unwilling to acknowledge he was really enjoying this.

"Suck on my dick again " he pleaded.

Then Mark took the big plunge and kissed him on the lips as he continued to stroke his prostate. Poet was overwhelmed with input at this point and couldn't muster the strength to protest. Against his will he found himself kissing the man back. Their tongues met and he was kissing this man like he was the last broad on earth. He heard himself whimper as the man continued to shove his finger up his ass and his tongue in his mouth.

"Suck my dick, man, please!" Poet begged, once they broke the kiss.

"Spread your legs wider" Mark insisted.

His dick was aching to feel the man's mouth on it again so bad, he complied and spread his legs. The man kissed him again, and Poet kissed back like some dime house whore, then he went down to his dick again. As the man ran his hot mouth up and down his dick, he kept fingering that hot spot deep in the boy's ass. Poet surrendered to the man's servicing and began to lewdly hump his ass up on the thrusting finger driving it deeper up his hole. His dick was real close now. It was being rammed all the way to the back of the man's throat with every downward thrust. Then it happened. His body surrendered and he could feel his hot, boy juice flowing up his dick. The ecstatic pleasure of his ensuing orgasm caused the boy to emit a guttural growl.

"Awwwwww!!" he grunted.

The man switched to sliding his tongue back and forth over the underside to the boy's pulsing ramrod allowing him to see the boy cream himself. Poet could take it no longer and his body doubled over in convulsions as his dick began spurting burst after burst of boy juice all over his body. It shot on his face, his chest, his stomach; one shot even leaped over his shoulder and hit the headboard.

"Oooh!' Poet groaned as his dick rocketed off.

Mark was in heaven as he watched the boy's body respond. His stomach muscles were literally quavering, while his face was scrunched up in a grimace of rapture. His legs were splayed open as his hungry ass pulsated around his finger. His boy balls were pulled tight and his dick was a virtual spear it was so hard. Mark reveled in watching his dick leap and deliver its load. And he simply loved the way the boy's luscious toes were digging into the covers, searching for purchase. Poet lay back exhausted while Mark savored every lingering twitch and jerk of the boy's ebbing flow. After long last the boy's powerful orgasm subsided, and Mark inched his finger out of the boy's still clutching hole.

"I guess you were really hot?" Mark said.

Poet said nothing. He was trying to get his mind around what had just happened.



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