Tricked

Jimmy Manley shares the cramped backseat of a Volkswagen with two men that he does not know. Roger Bones sits up front, in the passenger seat.

The man sitting next to Jimmy slips his hand onto Jimmy's thigh.

Jimmy's body goes tense, but he tries his best to act natural. Jesus, not here, he thinks. Not now. He twists his lean frame, trying to protect his middle. His cock.

The man sitting next to Jimmy is Sven. His knees tent on the car's center hump. His blonde hair is cut short, like a Marine, and he speaks with a clipped accent that Jimmy can't place. With his hand still on Jimmy's thigh, Sven bends his head toward the ear of the man on his other side—the only way to be heard above the din of wind noise that fills the car.

Jimmy can feel his dick swelling unbidden in his jeans. He swallows and looks out his window. He's a good looking boy. Olive skin in sharp contrast to the ribbed white tank top stretched over his lean frame.

Sven isn't moving his hand, but he isn't removing it either.

Jimmy keeps his eyes on the rolling fields passing by. A quiver passes through his bony shoulders, down his strong sinewy arms. With a gentle squeeze, Sven removes his hand from Jimmy's thigh.

Jimmy feels relieved.

He glances toward Roger. The wind whips his soft brown hair about his head. Had Roger not dropped out of high school, he would have been in Carnal's senior class with Jimmy. Both boys are eighteen, but Roger is clearly dominant. Jimmy feels lucky to hang out with him. The other boys in Roger's crowd—an elite group of toughs—wouldn't even give Jimmy the time of day. Roger waves his slender hands in the air as he talks to the man driving. Although Roger is shouting, Jimmy can't make out a thing he says. The driver points to his ear and shakes his head.

Roger grins, his brown eyes glittering. He brushes the hair back from his forehead, closes his eyes, and rests his head on the seat. With the curls dancing on his head, Jimmy thinks Roger has the face of an angel.

Jimmy had an idea how the afternoon might play itself out back in the mall. Roger left Jimmy standing alone and raced off to greet these men. After striking up a conversation, Roger pointed to Jimmy from across the wide corridor. Sven scrutinized Jimmy and Jimmy knew right then which way things were headed. When Roger returned, announced his plan, Jimmy was coy. He felt the butterflies in his stomach, even as his dick swelled in his pants.

He hid his erection.

"Why can't we find girls to suck our dicks?" he asked.

Jimmy asked this with such earnestness Roger laughed.

Roger looked at Jimmy expectantly and no one said anything for a beat. People in the mall floated past. Finally Jimmy nodded.

Roger grinned. He tucked Jimmy under his arm.

Led him toward the parking lot.

***

Sven shouts into Jimmy's ear: "I want to check you out."

Jimmy's heart races. He knows the wind noise makes it impossible for anyone else to have heard, but he doesn't want Sven to say that out loud again. He opens his legs.

Sven's hand goes back into Jimmy's lap.

Tilting his head, Jimmy looks toward the other person in the back seat, a young man with thin hair and a delicate mustache. He is staring out the window. Jimmy feels Sven's hand roam between his legs. Roger has his whole head out the window, his face turned into the wind. Sven's fingers play along Jimmy's fly, the inseam of his jeans. Squeezing his thighs together, Jimmy traps the hand between his legs. He wants to buy himself some time. Make sure no one else in the car is watching. But then he begins to enjoy the pressure of having something captured between his locked thighs. It's a deliciously dirty feeling and he realizes that the wind noise has created a comfortable cocoon in which he can hide.

And so, Jimmy gives in. He surrenders.

Relaxing his thighs, he offers himself up to whatever will come next. Sven begins to explore, and Jimmy's breathing gets shallower. His mouth drier. He licks his lips. Allows his hips to gently rock. Jimmy wishes he could open his legs even wider so Sven could place his hand on the shaft of his cock, but the back seat is too cramped.

With a stab of terror, Jimmy remembers the rearview mirror.

He glances up to the windshield and sees the driver's eyes holding steady on the twisting back road. As the car lurches around a bend, Sven presses into Jimmy and Jimmy scans the others again, who all seem lost in their own thoughts. Feeling as if he is on a deliciously dirty roller coaster ride, he allows himself a noisy sigh that no one else can hear. He imagines how humiliating it would be if Roger were to turn around right now and see the lust in his eyes as he lets the man sitting next to him stroke his cock. Roger has told Jimmy that in jail even the toughest guys let other guys suck their dicks. Roger has said that homos give the best head. Jimmy wonders if this is true. He has had exactly one blow job in his eighteen years.

Jimmy's dick crimps in his pants. He fidgets uncomfortably, but he can't get anything straightened out. Sven's attention is only making it worse.

Sven gives Jimmy a curious look, then withdraws his hand.

Jimmy's cock has grown too hard for the position it's in. His penis has somehow slipped out of the leg hole of his underwear. He has to twist in his seat and readjust his legs. He accidentally steps on Sven's foot and puts his knee into the back of the driver's seat. The driver complains. Sven tries to make a little room. Jimmy can't help himself. With both hands, he adjust himself until he has his now half-hard cock back where it's supposed to be, right behind his fly.

Jimmy sighs. He apologizes to Sven. Uses the rearview mirror to offer a contrite expression to the driver.

Roger is watching. He grins, shakes his head, and goes back to adjusting the radio dial.

Jimmy settles back into his seat.

He feels exhausted. There is a damp spot in his underwear where his cock must have leaked something wet. Jimmy knows the tough guys in jail let other men suck their cocks because they're locked up. They have no choice.

Trying to be subtle, Jimmy glances at Sven.

He catches Sven's eye, glances between his legs, then looks quickly away.

Jimmy stares out the window. He can feel sweat accumulating along the back of his neck. Jimmy knows he lets men suck his dick because he likes it. The deliciously slippery feeling of his cock in another man's mouth.

He feels the hand on his thigh. Opening his legs, he continues to look out the window. When Jimmy feels Sven's hand on the shaft of his cock, an electric stab of something pulses through his chest. He bites his lower lip, closes his eyes. He gives himself over to whatever is welling up inside of him. He lets his hips roll. Rides the hand between his legs. He doesn't think of the others in the car. Doesn't think about Roger. Doesn't think about angels, tough guys, or jail.

He thinks only of his own strong needs and what's going on between his legs.

Sven lightly strokes Jimmy's cock, allowing it to find its proper length along the inseam of his pants. Jimmy resists the urge to moan, but his breathing gets much heavier, more labored. The only hands that have worked his cock like this have been his own. Sven traces the outline of Jimmy's dick with one finger. Jimmy feels big salty tears welling up in his eyes. He isn't sure why he is crying, but he can't stop. Why should it feel so good? Why can't he find a girl to help him achieve these heights? He twists his head toward the window so no one else can see. What if Roger were to look back and see him crying? Would it be more humiliating if Roger were to look back and see his eyes filled with lust or with tears?

Sven puts his lips near Jimmy's ear. "You okay?" he whispers.

Jimmy feels the hand withdraw from his lap. He sniffles. Squeezes his eyes shut. He wipes his face with his forearm and nods his head.

"I'm cool," Jimmy says. "Cool."

Jimmy blows air from his mouth. Forces a smile.

The truth is his cock has never felt bigger, fuller, or more ready to burst. He only wishes he were one of the tough men in jail. He knows he's not. If Jimmy were to go to prison, those tough guys would probably make Jimmy suck their cocks. Then—then—poor Jimmy would really have no choice. The thought sends an electric ripple of unbidden desire through his body.

Forced to suck another man's cock.

With a sinking feeling, Jimmy realizes he'd probably like it. He only wishes he had little choice. Wishes he could deny the exquisite pleasure of another man's touch. Another man's mouth. In fact, he knows he can't. He's just as much prisoner—a prisoner of his own desire.

The driver slows the car and turns into an apartment complex.

Sven leans toward Jimmy. "You," Sven whispers, "have a huge cock."

Jimmy flushes with unexpected pride. He turns to the window, this time to hide his grin. Wiping his eyes with his hands and sniffling loudly, Jimmy finally meets Sven's gaze. Intense blue eyes, whisker stubble on cheeks and chin.

Jimmy feels his cheeks go hot.

***

The apartment is small, air conditioned.

Roger goes into the kitchen to chat with the other men. Sven steers Jimmy toward a bedroom down a long hall. Jimmy wants to ask Roger something, or at least make eye contact, but Roger won't look at him and there is no way to discreetly get his attention.

Sven smiles, coos something comforting. Jimmy feels trepidation, but he doesn't want to embarrass Roger or make a big scene. Sven's accent makes the things he says hard to understand. His hands are on Jimmy's shoulders. Jimmy allows himself to be shepherded down the hall, away from the others.

The room is large, dark, with a queen-size bed, neatly made.

Sven flips on a bedside lamp and invites Jimmy to sit on the bed. Jimmy sits carefully, his back straight. He rubs his hands on his thighs. He sees a desk and chest of drawers. Heavy curtains on one wall. A large mirror hangs on the opposite wall.

"Do you want a book?" Sven asks.

"A book?" Jimmy looks at him curiously. "Like, to read?"

Sven smiles. Retrieves two magazines from one of his desk drawers. One is Hustler, a magazine Jimmy knows well enough. The other features bare-chested men in tight jeans on its cover. Jimmy looks curiously at the magazine with the men. He's never seen a gay pornographic magazine.

He is curious about the gay magazine, but Jimmy doesn't feel bold enough to ask for it. Realizing that he is lingering, Jimmy says: "Hustler."

Sven seems unsatisfied with this answer. He flips opens the gay magazine. Offers Jimmy a peek inside. Jimmy glances at a picture of a man with a mustache, his lips stretched around a thick cock. Jimmy snorts. Men having sex with other men looks too unnatural to him. He can't look at it. Can't read that book. As much as he wants to feel his own cock in Sven's mouth, he's not sure he wants to see it.

"Hustler," Jimmy says, unable to keep mild irritation from his voice, a knee jerk reaction.

Sven chuckles, gives Jimmy the magazine he requested. Jimmy dutifully flips through its pages. He has a hard time focusing on the pictures. Doesn't know exactly what he should do next. He's only ever done this once before.

Sven kneels in front of Jimmy.

Jimmy can feel his cock stir. His mouth is a desert. Sven coos softly. Puts one hand on Jimmy's hip, uses the other to rub the front of Jimmy's pants. Jimmy concentrates on the pictures, feels his breathing go shallow. His cock rise. When Sven unbuttons Jimmy's pants and lowers his fly, Jimmy wordlessly sets the magazine aside. He puts his hands on the bed and raises his hips. It's a small thing, but he realizes that by raising his hips, he is an active participant in the act. He feels a flutter of excitement in his chest. As his pants go down, the cool air in the room makes gooseflesh on his thighs. He feels the texture of the bedspread on his bare ass. His cock proudly stands, the one part of his body with absolutely no shame. It's a swaying pole in a small unkempt bush of curly brown hair. Jimmy opens his knees and inches his hips forward. His pants are at his ankles. He sees something wet welling up on the head of his dick.

Sven gently wraps his hand around Jimmy's cock. Jimmy exhales noiselessly. As the wind leaves his body, Jimmy glances up and sees Roger standing at the bedroom door.

Jimmy is horrified. He gasps, his body tightens.

Sven spins his head to the door.

"Roger—," Sven says. He can't hide his irritation.

Sven crosses the room quickly. Standing at the door, he puts his body between Roger and the bed. Jimmy reaches for his pants, grateful that Sven is blocking Rogers's view. He wonders if Roger will tease him, expose him to the other boys. Leaning over, Jimmy half-heartedly pulls his pants up to his knees. His cock is still hard, swaying wildly. It bobs against his abdomen, knocks into his forearm, leaving a little wet spot.

The conversation at the door is muted, but Sven seems to be moving it quickly toward closure.

Jimmy decides getting dressed makes little sense. He sits, his cock swaying in front of him. He is unsure what to do with his hands. He feels foolish. Placing his hands in his lap, he folds them, then moves them to his knees.

Sven comes back. He's apologizing. Kneeling.

Roger is gone from the door.

Sven is cooing again, offering comfort, taking Jimmy's cock in his hand. Not really listening, Jimmy opens his knees and watches Sven take him into his mouth. Jimmy sighs. Tries to relax. He closes his eyes and allows himself to get lost in the moment. Soon his excitement returns, his cock grows. He starts to rock his hips. As Jimmy allows the first soft groan to escape his lips, he opens his eyes.

Roger is at the door again.

Roger immediately puts his finger to his mouth, makes the shhhh face.

Roger grins.

Jimmy casts his eyes toward Sven. His eyes are closed, his head bobbing.

He is making sloppy, sucking noises with his mouth. Jimmy feels the muscles in his abdomen go tight of their own accord.

Cutting his eyes back toward the door, Jimmy sees Roger place his hand close to his crotch. His grin is gone now, replaced by a solemn look of watchfulness. Sven takes his warm mouth from around Jimmy's cock and presses the wet shaft against the boy's abdomen. Tucking his head between Jimmy's legs, Sven uses the flat part of his tongue to lick the crack of Jimmy's ass. His tongue dances from Jimmy's asshole all the way to his soft down covered balls.

Jimmy exhales loudly, his nostrils flaring.

That feels so. Fucking. Good.

Aware that he's quickly moving beyond the place where is capable of controlling himself, his facial expressions, Jimmy looks to the door. He's like a drowning man, except that maybe he wants to go under. Reading the fear in Jimmy's face, Roger grins encouragement. Raises his chin. But then Jimmy watches as Roger's grin quickly fades. He lowers his head, bites his lower lip. He presses his lean body into the doorjamb, and goes back to silently watching.

Jimmy decides to let Roger watch.

Sven takes Jimmy's cock back in his mouth and Jimmy groans out loud. Nothing to hide now. Glancing toward the door, Jimmy sees Roger peering down the hallway, like a lookout. Propping himself on his elbows, Jimmy watches the length of his cock disappear into Sven's mouth, then appear again, wet and glistening. On the down stroke, Sven's nose nestles into Jimmy's pubic bush. Jimmy feels the head of his cock bump up against the back of Sven's throat. Jimmy opens his knees and thrusts his hips forward.

He's fucking Sven in the mouth.

Jimmy's fear of exposure disappears, suddenly replaced with something quite like joy. Roger's rapt attention and Sven's warm mouth spur Jimmy on. He tugs his t-shirt high on his chest, rubbing his hand across his nipples. Looking into the mirror, Jimmy sees his own face contorted with lust, his own muscled, teenage body writhing with need. Jimmy delights in the sensations, the show he is creating for Roger and himself. He thrusts his groin up, watching the muscles in his abdomen work as he moves his hips.

Jimmy feels a finger on the crack of his ass.

He squirms, a stab of panic pulsing through him. His ass is sweaty, vulnerable. Jimmy's not sure if he wants to be fingered. His biggest fear is that he will somehow find himself overcome with lust. In a weakened state, he will end up taking a cock in his mouth or a dick up his ass. He knows he has to be vigilant. Diligent. And then before he can protest, Sven's finger is inside his ass.

The digit slips in easy, as if Jimmy's ass were meant to hold a man's finger—

Or maybe something more!

Jimmy clenches his cheeks. Bears down hard. Pressing his shoulders into the mattress, Jimmy raises his ass. Sven rises to his feet, his mouth locked on Jimmy's cock. Sliding his finger past the second knuckle, Sven gives the boy what he seems to need so badly. Now there is a little pain, just as there probably should be. Things are changing for Jimmy, turning all inside around. He moans as his cherry ass is finger fucked.

With his hips high off the bed, Jimmy empties himself into Sven's mouth.

Sven swallows all the cream Jimmy has to offer. As his cock drains, Jimmy melts into a puddle on the bed. No longer driven by his own desires, he breathlessly relaxes, his soft cock still in Sven's mouth, a finger still buried in his ass.

Jimmy twists his trunk, but it's more like a stretch than any real attempt at resistance.

As Sven slowly removes his finger, Jimmy groans at the emptiness, which is almost as painful as the finger's deep plunge. He feels obligated to object to the reaming he just received, a token gesture to defend his masculinity. But he knows now it would only be an empty gesture: his tight little ass has already fallen.

He's been fucked!

Gloriously, sweetly, popped.

Fingered into a whole new place, a different state of mind.

Uncorked.

Jimmy savors the mild pain. His balls ache, his ass stings. He feels spent. Utterly, deliciously, empty. Helpless.

Sven kneels beside the bed and closes his eyes. Jimmy's not sure what is happening now. Sven has a serious expression on his face. Is he praying? Jimmy cranes his neck, looks off to the side of the bed. He sees Sven stroking his cock into a towel, relieving himself.

Jimmy grins. Tilting his head, he carefully watches Sven's face. Waiting for the moment, the climax. Sven comes quietly, almost reverently, without much of a sound.

Jimmy remembers the door. He looks for Roger and finds him gone.

As Sven cleans himself up, Jimmy wonders if Roger saw him get fingered. A deliciously dirty feeling sweeps over him. He wonders if Roger heard him moan and writhe as he filled Sven's mouth with his cum. Wonders if Roger managed to bring himself off.

Wonders if Roger filled his pants with sticky, warm cum.

***

Goodbyes are quick and utilitarian.

One of the men is already gone. Another is watching TV. Sven and Roger have a brief conversation in the kitchen. Jimmy practically floats from room to room. Sven presses a business card into his palm, and whispers "Call me" in that odd clipped accent. And then Jimmy is in the small VW, and he and Roger are being driven back to the mall.

In the mall parking lot, Roger spots his cousin—a girl from Carnal's senior class, driving her mother's car—and he flags her down. She offers to drive Roger and Jimmy back to Carnal.

On the ride home, Jimmy beams. He turns to say something. Roger makes the shhhush face, cutting his eyes to the front seat.

Roger raises his hips from the seat, reaches into his front pocket, and withdraws a fold of cash. He grins and shuffles through the bills. About fifty or sixty dollars.