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I had an encounter a few days ago that I want to share with you.
It all started in the coffee shop drive thru. I stopped in for a late afternoon coffee. It was about 4 p.m. There was nobody in front of me and nobody behind me. I ordered a medium black coffee and pulled up to the window. As I came to a stop the window opened, and a young guy (probably late teens or early twenties) told me what I owed him. I paid him as he said, “Nice looking ride.” I drive a metallic silver G Wagon and get this comment, or something like it, a lot, from people of all ages.
Without thinking and not even knowing to this minute where it came from I responded: “Not as nice looking as you.”
He stopped, cocked his head and I could tell he was wondering if he had heard me correctly. He blushed a little and then smiled and said “thank you. You’re not so bad yourself.”
It’s probably a good time to tell you a bit more about him. He had curly brown hair that looked like a bit of a mop on top of his head. He was cute with nice plush lips and a turned up nose. His most attractive feature were his eyes. They were blue-green and seemed to sparkle. Through the window he looked to be about 5’5” or 5’6”. He probably weighed about 100 pounds soaking wet and fully clothed.
I, on the other hand, consider myself to be well groomed but not especially attractive or unattractive—I’m just a plain old middle aged white guy. My hair, also closely cropped, is still a little more black than grey, but I suspect that will change soon. I’ve kept myself in decent shape but I’m not a fitness or weight lifting freak. I’d say I’m an average guy.
“Well, thanks,” I said, still waiting for my coffee. We both sat there staring at each other. There was no one waiting behind me. And it appeared that there were maybe two or three people working in the store, but they were further back by the counter and not paying attention to what was happening at the window.
After a few seconds I laughed and said, “so, how about that coffee.” He also laughed and said, “sorry, I was trying to figure out whether I should try to push this conversation further.”
“I’m listening,” I said.
He was still smiling when he said, “I get off at 5. I was going to call my roommate to ask for a ride home but I’m wondering if you’d like to take me in that G Wagon.”
What I wanted to say was “take you?” but what I did say was “I’d be happy to.” And, noticing that one of his co-workers had suddenly become interested in how long the order was taking at the window, I said, “How about you grab me that coffee and I’ll meet you in front of the T-Mobile store next door shortly after 5?” He smiled, said nothing and turned around to get my coffee.
Handing it to me he said, “See you in about 55 minutes.”
I drove off and parked in front of the T-Mobile store. I sat and thought about what just happened. A lot of thoughts went through my mind—from “what the hell am I doing” to “this is going to be interesting” over and over again. I sat and sipped my coffee and watched the traffic cruise through the parking lot and the people going in and out of the stores. It was a long 55 minutes but eventually the clock turned to 5 and I headed over to the T-Mobile store.
The place was still open so I had backed into a slot that was not immediately in front of the windows. I looked at the clock and saw that it was 5:03. “I’ll give him 10 minutes,” I thought. A couple of minutes went by and I was beginning to think he must have been joking or changed his mind when I spotted him walking across the parking lot.
He came up to the passenger door, opened it and climbed in. “Thanks for doing this,” he said. “I really appreciate it.”
I asked him where he lived, and he gave me the address. I used the voice command to enter the address into the GPS. He looked around at the stitched leather upholstery, the gauges and screens and the “mood” lighting that is included in all Mercedes high-end cars. “Sweet,” he said, as he leaned back and put his seat belt on.
I looked over at him. He was in a button down shirt and khaki pants. I liked what I saw.
I pulled out of the parking lot and we small talked about the weather and our jobs. The conversation was so bland I began to think that either I completely misread the situation or he had merely been capitalizing on my interest to snag a ride home. It was weird: I was feeling a little depressed in the moment, even though an hour earlier thinking of doing anything sexually with this young guy was about the furthest thing from my mind.
We continued to chat. About 10 minutes into the ride he asked me whether I was married. I told him “no” and asked about his status. He told me he was unattached, too. We drove along in silence for a few more minutes until I felt his hand rest on the top of my right thigh. It startled me a little, but I made no move to avoid his touch or push his hand away.
We kept driving like that for a minute that felt like an hour. The air in the car seemed thick and the anticipation was palpable. I could feel it. And I knew he could feel it.
When I didn’t say anything or move his hand, he inched it closer to my crotch. In response, I shifted slightly in the driver’s seat to give him better access. That was all the motivation he needed. His hand was very quickly now on top of the bulge that was forming in my jeans and he was rubbing my package through the denim. It felt nice. It felt a whole lot more than nice.
I took my hand off the steering wheel and placed my hand in his crotch. I could feel his hard cock through the fabric. It was thin and hard, lying up and to the left of his crotch. I loved the way it felt through the fabric. He arched up in response to my touch. I placed two fingers around his cock and started to rub his fabric-encased cock back and forth.
Neither of us said anything but we continued to stroke each other while driving. I loved the feel of his hand stroking my cock and loved even more the feel of his cock though his pants.
After a few minutes I said, “so, do you live alone?”
“No,” he said, “I’ve got a couple of roommates. How ‘bout you?”
I smiled and nodded my head as I said, “I live alone. We should go there?” I posed it as a question but it was more of a statement.
“Yessss,” he said, “let’s go to your place.”
We continued to rub each other’s cocks as I took a turn and headed to my place. I was enjoying the feel of his young cock through the fabric of the khakis. Along the way he lifted his butt off the seat, unsnapped and unzipped his pants and in one fluid motion pushed his pants and briefs down to his ankles.
I was stunned. I put my blinker on and pulled off the road. “Something wrong?” he asked. “No,” I said, “I just want to take a good look before I continue driving. I don’t want to be distracted”
His skin was ivory white and bald from his belly button down to a spot about 2 inches above the stem of his cock. From 2 inches above and almost about four inches wide he had a nicely trimmed pubic bush. His cock was about 5 inches, cut and looked hard as steel. I wanted to bury my face in his crotch and take his cock in my mouth but sitting on the side of the road was not the right place.
I smiled at him, put my left blinker on, checked the mirrors and merged back on the road. My right hand continued to gently stroke this young cock lightly, from stem to tip. I reached under his cock and grabbed hold of his balls. He let out a small sigh and leaned back to give me better access.
“How old are you?” I asked. He told me he was 20. He then explained that he was enrolled in the local community college and working at the coffee shop part-time. He lived with 3 guys. He grew up with two of them; the third guy they’d met recently when one of the other two guys worked with him. They all worked full-time. He was the only student. It wasn’t, he explained, the greatest living conditions for someone who was seriously trying to attend school, “even if it is just community college,” he said.
I asked him about his plan while I stroked his still rock-hard cock. He explained that he was in his second and final year at the college. He had applied to state schools and one stretch private school. “A stretch both grade-wise and money-wise,” he laughed.
I complimented him on having a plan and for allowing that plan to have stretch goals. We talked a bit about my job as consultant for an international consulting firm. I could feel his eyes on the side of my face, looking at me closely as I told him about the places around the world I’d visited over the years. I also told him about the work: “basically,” I said, “companies hire me to come and tell them how to do things better, faster and more efficiently.”
After about 15 minutes we were at my street. I lived in a four-bedroom house that I “won” in the divorce. We didn’t have any kids and never really planned for any, which was part of the reason for the breakup, but we had a big house that I actually won in the divorce by default: my wife didn’t want it and I did. Now I just lived here because I have friends in the neighborhood and it’s familiar. But living in a fully furnished four bedroom house, I had to admit when I thought about it, was not a great idea.
“Do you know where we are,” I asked him.
“Not really.”
“Well, just so you know, your college is about 10 minutes down that way on this road. You probably get there from the other direction, so you didn’t recognize where you are.”
“Hmmm,” he said, “isn’t that interesting.”
As I took the right on to my cul-de-sac I asked, “Can I ask you to do something? Can you crouch down below the window. I’m not at a place in my life when I want my neighbors to see me arriving home with an unexplained younger guy.”
“Sure,” he said, “I get that.” And he leaned across the middle console and put his head on my lap, face down, and started lightly biting at my package.
I laughed and drove down the street. Fortunately, none of my neighbors were out and no one stopped me on the way to my house. I hit the garage door opener before I turned into the drive and drove right into the garage, pushing the button to close the door even before coming to a full stop.
We got out and he followed me into the house. It’s a nice place and I keep it tidy and clean. A maid comes once a week to dust, vacuum and clean the bathrooms. The house has four full baths and two half baths. I use one full and one half on a regular basis but she cleans all of them every week. Maybe I should hire a consultant to tell me how I could run my house more efficiently.
We stopped in the kitchen by the sliding glass door. “Wow,” he said, looking out at my backyard, which was completely fenced in, featured a 15’ x 30’ pool with a built in spa and an outside entertainment area. “This is very nice,” he exclaimed.
“Not as nice as you,” I said, with a laugh, bringing us both back to where we started. Actually, I said, it’s way too big for one person, but I don’t want to give it up. I’ve thought about renting one of the rooms but I’d want to be very careful about doing that.
He turned around to face me. I lifted his chin, leaned down and kissed his lips. We started slowly but then advanced very quickly. He tasted sweet and I wanted to lick and suck every inch of his mouth.
We stopped and I took him by the hands. The master suite is conveniently located on the first floor, next to the kitchen. It has French doors that look out on the same view as the kitchen’s. The curtains were open. Even though I knew that no one could see us, I closed the curtains to make him feel more comfortable.
As I had my back to him closing the curtains, he started to undress. I turned around and he was down to his last button of his button down. He took his shirt off and took my breath away. He was thin as a rail. He had puffy pink nipples and no hair on his chest. His skin was alabaster and without a blemish anywhere. His skin stretched across his ribs, which were clearly outlined.
A very wispy black trail of hair started at his belly button and fell below his belt. I stepped over and undid his belt, unbuckled his pants and pushed his jeans and his sky-blue bikini briefs down past his knees to his ankles. He stepped out of his clothes in one fluid motion, turned around and walked to the bed.
His ass was small and hairless. And, like the rest of him, unblemished. I’d never seen skin so soft-looking. He sat on the edge of the bed and beckoned me closer. I walked over and he unbuttoned by shirt. His fingers were long and thin. “Do you play the piano,” I asked. He said that he did as he unbuckled my belts and unclasped my pants.
I pushed my pants down along with my boxer briefs. My 6” cut cock sprung up and hit him in the mouth. He did what came naturally: he opened his mouth and took me down his throat. His right hand grabbed my balls while his left hand held the base of my cock in his mouth.
He sucked on my cock for probably five minutes until I stopped him by reaching down and lifting him from under his arms up onto the bed. He lay on my bed and I climbed up beside him. His cock was about as big as mine and looked disproportionately large because he was so small. His skin was white except for the pink nipples and dark hair that ran from his belly button down to his trimmed pubes. They looked soft, a fact I confirmed when I reached out and ran my hand across them. His balls were loose and hanging almost down to the top of the bedspread he was lying on.
I climbed between his legs and leaned down and lightly kissed his cock. My tongue, having a mind of its own, slipped out and licked the top of his cock. It then curled around his cock and started to lick it from its crown to the base. I loved the feel of this young guy’s cock on my tongue. I licked his balls, his thighs and then up to his pubic hair.
I then took his cock and held it up as I swallowed it into my mouth. I closed my lips around it and again my tongue went to work. By this point I was also playing with his balls. I sucked his cock and played with his balls for a while, my hands occasionally drifting up to play with his nipples and to trace lines down to his pubes.
I reached underneath him and drew him closer into my mouth. My lips and tongue continued to bathe his cock and spit was coating the base and his balls. My middle finger found his hole and I slipped it in. I started to finger him using a cadence that matched my mouth bobbing up and down on his dick.
He gasped, arched and yelled “Oh, fuck, I’m cumming. I’m cumming.” I doubled down on my fingering and let up a little on his cock. I didn’t want him to shoot down my throat—I wanted his cum in my mouth. I played with his balls with my other hand and soon he was unloading creamy milk into my eager mouth.
After he stopped cumming I licked him clean. I lay my head in his crotch and waited while he rested. His young cock was still half hard, which made me smile.
After about 5 minutes or so I kissed his cock again and he groaned, with pleasure. I took his balls into my mouth and sucked them. I placed both hands on either of this thighs and rolled him back to give myself better access to his boi pussy.
His ass was lily white and he was naturally hairless. The only color was the slightly brownish-pink at the center of his hole. I rubbed his cheeks and he purred. I leaned in and licked his ass from his taint down to his hole. When I got there I started to flick my tongue like a snake, rapidly. I felt his cock getting bigger just above where I was now sucking his little pussy. “Oh, fuck me!” he yelled.
I paused. Was that exclamation or invitation? I looked up. He was looking down at me and I knew: it was as clear an invite as anyone was ever going to get.
I grasped him by his hips and rolled him over onto his knees. He got up on the bed. Both knees were on the bed as was his left elbow. He was looking back at me. I was leaning in close to his hole, blowing on it. He put his right hand behind my head and drew my mouth closer to his hole. I opened his cheeks with both hands, spit on his open hole and then went in to really make him wet. My tongue licked him and dribbled saliva into his hole and around it. I took long laps, sticking my tongue deeply in him and using my fingers to spread the juice around. He took his cock, now hard again, into his right hand and started stroking, pausing only briefly while I placed the tip of my cock into his eager hole.
As I plunged in he grabbed his balls and pulled them forward. He looked back at me, a small smile spread across his face. I plunged in with a fury. In and out and in and out.
I pulled all the way out and stood up. He knew what I wanted and swung around and took my cock in his mouth, licking me and sucking me. And then he swung me around onto the bed, climbed further up the bed and rolled his legs up to accommodate me, mission style. Within seconds I was back inside of him, fucking him long, deep and continuously. I pinched and twisted his nipples, kissed his chest. He had his arms up over his head. He had wispy hair under his arms. I leaned in and licked each armpit over and over again—my tongue delighting in the soft strands of his sparse hair. I then his mouth as I fucked him. In an instant, it was all too much and I felt my balls constricting. I shot volley after volley into his waiting cunt.
I collapsed on top of him and then rolled over, snuck my arm below his neck and rolled him toward me. As we kissed, we continued to touch each other. I rubbed his cute nipples and he played with my now very much soft cock.
He whispered in my ear: “you know, it may be way too soon to suggest this, but if the price was right, I think I know someone who would want to rent one of your rooms.”
