A Boy, A Bookie & A Bet

Buzz watched as Mike quickly shed his clothes, peeling off the undershirt and socks, and wriggling free of the pants and boxers that had become bunched up around his ankles. It was the first really good look that the youth had of the man's body, and he was not disappointed by what he saw. Mike was angular and strongly built, a fighter's body conditioned by years of physical work and training. Buzz admired not only the mature musculature of the man's body, but also the generous brush of dark hair on his pecs and abs that contrasted with his own smooth, more youthful frame. There were several prominent tattoos on both of Mike's arms, but the boy was especially drawn to an oriental design etched on the man's hairy chest. Buzz reached out and traced it with his finger.

"It's Japanese," explained Mike. "Got it when I was stationed over there."

Buzz leaned forward and kissed Mike, then bent down and took the man's dick back into his mouth, allowing it to penetrate deep in his throat. The boy moved his head up and down the shaft until he could feel Mike responding, pulsing in and out of him in a steady rhythm, and holding Buzz's head in place as he began to gently fuck his face. After several minutes, Buzz looked up at Mike.

"I can't wait any more, Mike. Let's fuck."

The man moved back into position over the boy, but Buzz stopped him. "No, I wanna be able to see you."

Buzz pushed Mike back against the edge of the sofa, but then got up and disappeared into the bathroom at the far end of the hallway. He soon returned with a tube of oily salve which he began spreading over Mike's heavy rod. The cool feel of the ointment, plus Buzz's sensual touch as he worked it up and down the shaft sent instant chills through Mike's body, causing him to catch his breath. He could hardly believe how sensitive he was to the boy's touch, which made his rock-hard cock ache all the more. Seizing an opportunity, Mike grabbed the tube, squeezed some the salve onto his fingers, and began working them into the boy's peach-colored hole. Buzz squirmed in delight at the delicious sensations suddenly invading him.

Mike withdrew his fingers and began lifting the youth into place over his twitching erection. Buzz aided in the positioning by crawling over the steely thighs and bracing himself against the man's firm chest. He could feel the sticky fingers opening him up, probing him, and guiding into him the tip of that long stiff missile poised to blast him open. For the first time Buzz felt some butterflies fluttering inside him. He wasn't scared so much that Mike would hurt him or that this wouldn't be what he wanted, only that maybe that he couldn't be everything that Mike wanted. He closed his eyes and braced for the breach to come.

Mike pushed into the boy. He was slow and deliberate, looking for any signs of distress in Buzz's face. Above all he didn't want to hurt the boy. In the end it was Buzz who decided to force the issue by literally spearing himself on Mike's fearsome weapon. Mike was caught off guard by the sudden move and groaned aloud. Buzz groaned too, but more from relief than pain. He was, in fact, surprised by how little actual pain he did feel, only an awesome fullness and excitement at having absorbed the entire length of the man's blue-veined, crimson-headed wonder.

It took several minutes for both to adjust to the swirling mix of emotion that boiled inside them, and so they briefly froze in place, catching their breaths. Mike was the first to move. He lifted his hips and thrust into the boy, tentatively at first, but soon with increasing power. Buzz started to move as well, sometimes complementing Mike's moves, sometimes opposing them. The boy began to groan heavily, reacting to every hot stab of the cock, shuddering as one stinging wave of pleasure after another was being driven into his body.

"Jeez, Mike, that feels . . . so fuckin' good!"

Mike kept his eyes on the boy, watching for any sign that this was too much, that his hot hungry weapon might be tearing that slender boy-ass apart. But what he saw amazed and gratified him as Buzz rode his cock with evident delight, chuckling and murmuring with each bounce like a small child being tossed about on a wild carnival ride.

Mike scooted lower so he could thrust higher. A powerful tension was building in his loins, like some hotbed of desire he had not tapped before. He lifted his hips and thrust up hard, bucking deeply into the boy, driven on by the fact that no matter how hard he fucked, Buzz just threw his head back and laughed, enjoying it all. Finally the man rose up balancing on his knees, and lifted the boy up as well. He pushed away from the sofa, and then with a tremendous effort he bent forward and deposited Buzz flat on his back on the floor. And then without missing a beat, he dived forward and drove his cock back into the seething hole, going so deep the boy could not help but cry out.

The penetration—the fiery feel of it—was sharper and more overpowering than anything Mike could ever remember feeling. Now even more than before, he felt a craving for the boy, like a wave of pure white lust engulfing him. He could no longer hold back. Mike slammed the boy, and then began an all-out assault on his butthole lacking only in restraint.

"Oh god, Mike!"

The man slowed and then stopped. The sudden sound of his name jerked Mike out of his miasma of lust and back to his senses. He became intensely aware of his body and then his breathing: ragged and raw. His eyes burned. He wiped the sweat out of them and then wiped his dripping brow as well. He was wracked and soaked, and now could see that Buzz was, too. Even the air itself was soaked with the heady scent of sex.

"Jesus fucking Christ, boy, what are you doing to me?"

"Don't stop, Mike. That was fucking fantastic!"

Mike picked up the tempo again, this time fucking with smoother, more even strokes. But the fires of hell still raged inside him, and he knew he could not hold out much longer. Then without warning, he felt Buzz choke and convulse; and suddenly the boy was firing long cummy strands of white across his chest and belly. Mike pounded on, determined to give the boy the fucking of his life, determined to give them both everything he had.

And then in mid-stroke Mike choked too, and suddenly he felt the hot tide in his blood rise to a flood. Overwhelmed, his senses running wild, he lost all will to hold out. He tightened his grip on the boy, strained forward and drove deep; and then with a wild yell he began blasting Buzz full of his warm seed.

Shocks and aftershocks began rattling both man and boy, and they locked each other in a desperate hold on the creaking, carpeted floor. The two clung to each other even after the tremors began to fade, almost as if their lives depended on it. And maybe there was some truth in that, too, because Mike could have sworn his guts were spilling out of him, and Buzz felt like he would soon wash away in the gush of cum filling him. Time itself seemed to come to a halt until the boy finally pulled himself free of Mike's embrace and pushed himself up into a sitting position. He peered over at the man still lying supine and virtually motionless beside him.

"Wow, Mike, that was absolutely fucking awesome!"

"Thanks, kid, we aim to please."

"I'll say. Let me know when you want a rematch."

"Horny little bugger," shrugged Mike as he roused himself and sat up, looking around. The youth was already on his feet, busily wiping himself with the large towel he had used earlier to wipe away sweat. His head finally clear, Mike again surveyed the damage to the apartment and was appalled by what he saw.

Not only was the table and chairs mostly rubble, but even the coat rack beside them was smashed too. And then there was the coffee table and Jake's favorite rocker—now both on their sides. And scattered about were the wreckage of lamps, end tables, and—well, lots of other stuff Mike couldn't begin to tell what they had been. It was nothing short of a disaster scene.

"How are we ever gonna explain this, Mike?"

"Well, we don't explain it, because to tell you the truth, I don't even remember how half this happened. There's something about you, boy: You cloud my brain. Nah, we don't explain it; we find a way to make it right."

While Buzz did his best to straighten up the apartment, Mike slipped on his clothes and went down to his car where he retrieved a large black leather cash pouch from a secure compartment in his trunk. Returning to the flat, he took out a large stack of bills from the pouch, inserted it into an envelope, and stuck the payment inside a kitchen cabinet for Jake to find. Buzz looked on anxiously, but finally had to say something when Mike began resealing the pouch.

"So how much are you leavin' him, Mike?"

"Five g's. I figure that oughta about cover it."

"Five . . .grand?Are you for real? Dude, that'll about cover everything in the whole goddamn place, a coupla times over. But . . . considering that's just about what he owes you, don't you think it's likely he'll just hand it right back to you to clear his debt?"

"What do you take me for, kid: a shark? I don't give with one hand just so I can steal it back with the other. The debt's kaput—history. I know a kid like you don't get it, but one way or another Jake's been taking care of me for the last twenty-five years. It's about time I started returning the favor."

"Why do you think I wouldn't get that? But Mike, isn't it just gonna cause you more trouble when word gets out that you wiped out his debt?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, bright eyes," said Mike with a devilish smile and a wink to Buzz. "Why would I need to clear his debt, since, as you know perfectly well, old Jake just come into some money from an insurance settlement he got? Seems somebody trashed his apartment."

"I see what you mean," said Buzz with a laugh. "You've got it all covered. It's like you're a superhero swooping down to save the day. I don't suppose that while you're in the mood to rescue folk, you wouldn't want to reconsider giving me a job."

"Seems to me we had that conversation already, or did someone forget who won our bet?"

"Didn't forget. I was just hopin' . . . But you're right, Mike. Hands down, you won fair and square, and that's the way it is. You don't get to change the rules of competition afterwards just because you lost. I know that, and I accept it like a man."

"Hey, kid, cheer up. What's the big deal? So you lost one. I've lost a million bouts in my day. Tell you what: I was planning on heading over to Gio's Pizza after I finished up here. Why don't you tag along and we can talk about improving your conditioning?"

"I wish I could, Mike," said Buzz, looking quite dejected. "But I should probably stay here."

"Why the hell not? It's just pasta and pizza."

"Because I'll be heading out first thing in the morning. I should probably start packing so I can get to bed early. It's a long drive back to Somerset County."

"Why the big hurry to get back?"

"Unca Jake only agreed to let me stay for two weeks, and tomorrow my two weeks are up. Like you say, a deal's a deal."

"Well, what kinda stupid deal is that," said Mike, looking a little peeved. "Who gives a kid just two weeks to find a damned job? Look, when Jake gets in I'll take him aside, and have a nice little talk with him. Nobody knows better than me how stubborn he can be, but if there's anybody who can get through to that thick skull of his, it's me."

"Yeah, and that's exactly why I don't want you to do it. Come on, Mike, you said it yourself: A deal is a deal, whether you like it or not. Win or lose, you accept it and don't go whinin' about it, and don't go tryin' to change the rules afterward the game is over. It'd be easy for me to let you talk Unca jake into lettin' me stay, but, dude, it wouldn't be right. Unca Jake is like 60 years old, and this little apartment is like all he has. And he's tried to make the best it, having somebody like me around here for a while, but, dude, he really,reallyhates it. I mean, you would too if you were used to having a place all to yourself, and all of a sudden you had to put up with some young kid like me clomping around all day, eating your food and drinking your beer and lifting weights and talking too much and using all the hot water and . . ."

"I get it, kid," said Mike, raising his hands. "And you're right. I mean, that kinda stuff wouldn't bother somebody like me, but Jake—yeah, for sure. I imagine the two of you probably have been driving each other crazy—huh?"

"A little bit."

"Well, I can't deny it: a deal is a deal—that is a very important principle in my line of work. But you do know, don't ya, that that's not the only principle I live by? What about the one that says you take care of your friends? To me, that's just as important as the first one, maybe more so—to stand by the people that stand by you. How's that one sound to you, Buzzbrain? You like the sound of that?'

"Sure, I guess so."

"Good, then why don't we jump in the shower and get cleaned up so we can go for a nice hot pizza and beer? Call it a celebration of your new job. "

"What new job? I don't have a job."

"Contradicting your boss: that's no way to start out a new job, kid."

"Yike!" yelped Buzz letting out a squeak of excitement before drawing back and collecting himself. "Mike, this isn't a joke, is it? I mean, you just said—"

"For Pete's sake, boy, I know what I said. You're like a dog with a bone. And I'm tellin' you right now you're gonna be opening us up to a world of grief if you keep trying to hold me to everything I say. Let's just say I changed my mind, and leave it at that. You showed me a lot of pluck today. I like that, and if the truth be told, I guess I really do need somebody after all. Besides, I'd be pretty damned stupid to let my best sparring partner get away—"

This time Buzz let out a shriek so loud that it went through the entire apartment and probably into the surrounding ones as well. The boy jumped on Mike and threw his arms around the man, still whooping and laughing. Mike laughed too and had to take a step back or risk being knocked off his feet by the boy's enthusiasm. He wrapped his arms around the boy, and couldn't hide the fact that the embrace by this beautiful youth, naked except for the thin nylon shorts he had slipped back on, was giving him plenty of stimulation. He let his hands slide down to cup Buzz's butt.

"And another thing, Buzzhead: you gotta keep the screaming to a minimum. You pull this kinda stunt in front of my clients and I swear they'll run the other way."

"OK, boss man, whatever you say," grinned Buzz who quickly calmed down, shoved his shorts down his legs, and began kissing the man. As one kind of celebration rapidly turned into another, Buzz abruptly separated from Mike and began undressing the man as well.

"Shit, I can't believe the effect you have on me," mumbled Mike as he helped shed his clothes. In a matter of seconds he was naked. He grabbed the boy and pulled him back into his body, their rock-hard cocks smashing into each other.

"Mike, I—"

"Tell me later," groaned Mike who suddenly scooped up the boy and laid him flat on the sofa. The man lifted the boy's butt, gave it a few quick preparatory licks, and then began pushing his stiff rod into the smooth warm hole. Gone was the slow deliberation he had shown the first time around. Burning inside him now was a hot urgency which wouldn't wait. He sliced into Buzz in one fierce move, rocked his cock out, and drove in again. The inside of the boy was all silk and molten flame, like fucking a volcano, and the feel of him made the man's heart throb. Buzz was no less caught up in the heat of the moment. The very touch of Mike's cock set off a fiery energy in him, and every blow sent his head reeling. Buzz grabbed the man and held tight, unable to focus on anything except the intense waves of feeling sweeping him every time Mike pounded his pleasure center.

Mike wasn't thinking either, just plowing ahead on pure lust-driven adrenalin, his head in a fever over the swirl of emotion the boy was able to summon up in him just by the merest touch. Just as before, Buzz arched his back and opened his body, surrendering to the heated thrill of it, sucking the man's ramrod deep inside with every stroke. The sounds of his grunts and groans filled the apartment, and merged with the rhythmic pounding of flesh on flesh, as Mike climbed over the boy, and quite literally tried to force his cock right through to the core of the athletic young body clinging to him.

And then as quickly as it had started the storm began to break. Mike unleashed a deep growl, and shuddered, and began blasting the boy's chute with fresh new rounds of cum. Seconds later Buzz came too, thrashing about in Mike's strong embrace, splattering his load on himself and all over Mike, too.

"Oh, fuck, Mike, that was incredible!"

"Not so bad for an old guy—huh," sighed Mike falling forward onto the sweat-drenched boy. It had all come and gone in a matter of minutes, and yet both man and boy felt drained and intensely alive. When Mike had regained his breath he sat up and looked at Buzz who was grinning like the cat that had swallowed the canary.

"What are you so goddamned happy about, kid? You're a total fucking mess."

"So are you," giggled Buzz.

It was true and Mike knew it. He was streaked with sweat and sticky with the boy's load. He grabbed Buzz and pulled him up, then gave him a playful slap on the rear.

"Shower time, Buzzbrain, and no argument from you. And then we are going to go for that pizza. For some reason I'm starving. Hey, I got an idea. What d'ya say we save Jake some hot water and just shower together?"

"I wouldn't object to that!"

"And one more thing: After we're through eating, I think we oughta swing by here and move your stuff over to my place. I got lots of empty space that would be perfect for your weights and junk, and it's only logical that you move in with me, considering I'm gonna have to start training your butt night and day."

"You promise?" grinned Buzz, fairly brimming over with excitement. "But wait, Mike. Before we do that, I'd better call Unca Jake. He's gonna be coming through that door most any minute and I have got to warn him about this mess. If I don't, he'll freak."

"He won't if you tell about the envelope in his cabinet. And mention that I may slip him a few more bucks if that's not enough."

"Jesus, Mike, I really do think it's enough. But I'll tell him. Why don't you go and grab us some towels and get the water started? This won't take long."

"Good, cause I'm counting on you to wash my back."

Buzz watched Mike amble down the hall and into the bathroom before he dialed a number on his cell phone. Not too far away, another phone rang in a tavern.

"That you, Buzzy?"

"Yeah, Unca Jake. It's me."

"Well, gosh darn, boy, it took you long enough to call. I've been waiting around here for hours. Is everything OK? Can I come home now?"

"You bet, Unca Jake. You can definitely come home. Everything is perfect."

"Now hold on. Don't tell me that screwy plan of yours worked."

"It didn't just work. It turned out way better than I ever thought it would."

"Huh," grumped Jake, sounding rather skeptical. "Well, I'm glad to hear you got the job, but I sure hope you didn't make too big a mess doing it. You said a few things might get busted. Now if you and Mike ended up breaking my favorite chair, I swear—"

"OK, Unca Jake, calm down. Yeah, the chair is a goner, and a lot of the other stuff in here, too—"

"Goddammit, boy! Now what did I say?"

"But . . . the good news is Mike is leaving you five grand to replace everything . . ."

"Five grand!"