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Subject: New Kid on the Block, Gay, Young Friends, part 1 If you enjoy these stories, consider donating to help keep the site up and running. You can do it here: https://donate./ I enjoy getting feedback. If you like the story, feel free to email me at ail. If you didn’t like the story, I don’t want to hear it, so email someone else. New Kid on the Block By Butters2020 Chapter One CJ knew something was wrong. Mom hadn’t asked him how school was. She hadn’t asked Dad how work was. Dad hadn’t asked her how work was. No one talked at all. The only sounds were the clinking of silverware against the plates. The last time this had happened was four years ago. He’d been eight years old then, just a kid, but even then he knew something was wrong, and he’d been right. After ten or fifteen minutes of CLINK CLINK CLINK Dad said, “We’ve got some bad news. Your grandmother had a heart attack this morning.” Mom stopped eating to look at him but Dad kept eating. CLINK CLINK CLINK went his knife and fork as he cut his roast beef. “Is she okay?” CJ asked. Dad transferred a bite of roast from his fork into his mouth. “I’m sorry, son. She’s gone.” He chewed his meat and cut another piece. CLINK CLINK. CJ sat at the table crying through the rest of the meal. Mom told him how Grandmother was in a better place, how it was quick, how she didn’t suffer, how much she loved him. He nodded and ate his own dinner. Now the three of them sat at the same table four years later, eating in silence, except for the clinking of silverware against their plates. He was all out of grandparents, so no one could have died today. After ten minutes of eating in silence Dad said, “That Ring doorbell is really something.” Mom didn’t look up from her plate. She took another bite of ravioli. CJ didn’t pay attention to all the electronic gadgets Dad kept adding to the house. Dad used Alexa to do everything: turn the lights on and off, adjust the thermostat, turn on the TV, even start the robot vacuum cleaner. CJ stopped keeping up with the latest gadgets Dad installed. He knew about the camera on the doorbell but hadn’t bothered to download the app on his phone. Dad said, “No one needs to ring the doorbell for me to get a notification that someone’s at the door. Motion activated. My phone lets me know and I can see who it is.” CJ put his fork down. He knew now why he was in trouble at least but it didn’t seem to warrant all this clink clink clink. He said, “I had a friend over after school.” Dad said, “I know you did. I saw him at the front door. I saw him come inside. When I saw that I thought, ‘Gee, who is this stranger coming into my house? I don’t know this kid.’ I wondered if we were being robbed.” CJ said, “He didn’t rob us. I told you— he’s a friend. I know I’m not supposed to have people over. I won’t do it again.” Dad kept talking as if CJ hadn’t said anything. “So, to make sure we weren’t being robbed, I switched from the doorbell cam to the living room cam.” CJ felt his stomach drop. “What living room cam?” Dad said, “I told you all about it when I set it up four months ago. I showed you the cameras. There’s one in the foyer, one in the living room, there’s four of them aimed at the yard outside.” CJ felt like he was going to throw up. Mom didn’t say a word. She wouldn’t look at CJ or at Dad. CLINK CLINK CLINK. Dad said. When I switched the view on the app in my phone from the doorbell cam to the living room cam it was very informative.” “Dad….” CJ said. Dad finally stopped clinking his knife and fork. “Your mother sits on that couch. I daresay she won’t be sitting on it anymore. Not after what you and your faggot boyfriend did on it today.” “He’s not my boyfriend. We were just messing around. It never happened before. Your spycams will prove it.” It had never happened before in their house, anyway. “I didn’t even like it. We were just goofing is all. It’s not like I’m going to do it again. It was a dare is all. I like girls. Really.” Dad picked up his knife and fork again. CLINK CLINK CLINK CJ had to sit through an hour of rules and obligations he had to fulfill before he would be a trusted (that is, straight) member of the family again. First he had to get a job to pay for replacing the couch, because it was now defiled and no one could ever sit on it again. Merely having it professionally cleaned wasn’t good enough. All he and Brandt had cebeci escort done was jerk off together, but you’d think they’d performed a human sacrifice on it. CJ asked his dad what kind of job he could get as a twelve-year-old. Dad said if he couldn’t find a real job he could work it off by doing things around the house. CJ knew that with the chores Dad would assign, and the rate of pay he’d offer, he would be in his 80’s before he paid off the couch. Second, no more people at the house when Mom and Dad weren’t home. The various cameras would alert Dad the second CJ broke that rule. CJ wasn’t allowed to go to anyone else’s house, either. It would be too easy to get into homosexual mischief if he did. It’s not that he was grounded, he just couldn’t go anywhere unless Mom or Dad took him there. And he had to have a tracker on his phone so they’d know he stayed where they dropped him off. CJ agreed to every condition they threw at him, without objection. At two in the morning, he got dressed and put some extra underwear, a couple pairs of jeans and some extra shirts into his backpack. He didn’t know if he was on camera as he walked to his parents’ bedroom, but he assumed he was. He quietly opened their bedroom door. Dad was snoring. Good. He took Dad’s wallet off the dresser. There was only forty-three dollars in it. CJ transferred the money from Dad’s wallet to his own. He also took Dad’s debit card. He knew Dad would cancel it sometime tomorrow. He only had a few hours to get as much use from it as he could. He left the bedroom and went through the door in the kitchen that led to the garage. He got his bike but didn’t raise the garage door, afraid the noise would rouse his parents. He took the bike through the kitchen and out the front door and rode off. He stopped at the ATM at the gas station four blocks away. Dad’s password was the month and day of his birthday. Duh. He withdrew five hundred dollars, then biked downtown to the Greyhound Bus station. He left the bike at the curb and went inside. “When does the next bus leave?” he asked the man behind the ticket counter. “Don’t you want to know where it goes?” “Nope.” “Bus from Dumont is due in an hour. It’s heading to Clinton” “Where to after that?” “It goes all the way to Miami.” “So am I,” CJ said, putting Dad’s debit card on the counter. The clerk eyed the card with suspicion. “I’m gonna need to some ID, son.” “No problem.” Charles James Evans, Jr. pulled out his school ID and put it on the counter next to Dad’s debit card. The clerk eyed the photo ID and compared the name on it with the name on the debit card. He typed on his keyboard. “Enjoy Miami, Mr. Evans.” Fourteen hours later CJ got off the bus in Atlanta and didn’t get back on. He knew Dad could trace where his debit card had been used. He’d know CJ had bought a bus ticket to Miami. If he looked for him-a big if-he’d be looking in Florida. Let him look. CJ had his own debit card. He didn’t have a job but he had a bank account. There wasn’t a lot of money in it, but his Grandmother had left him a modest inheritance. Very modest. He checked his balance at the ATM in the Greyhound station. Just under eight hundred dollars. He’d have to make it last. He hated to spend the money but the nearest motel was way too far to walk. He took an Uber to the Motel 6. He went into the motel lobby. A pimply faced man whose shirt was two sizes too small sat behind the counter watching the big screen TV in the lobby. An old Terminator movie was playing. CJ stood in front of him for a few seconds, then cleared his throat. The man continued to ignore him. “Excuse me,” CJ said. “I’d like a room, please.” The man looked at CJ with disinterest. “Are you high, kid? You gotta be eighteen to get a motel room.” “I’m eighteen,” CJ said. “And I’m the King of the Moon. Yer voice ain’t dropped. I bet yer balls ain’t even dropped. Even if I wanted to look the other way, I can’t. I gotta scan your driver’s license before the system lets me activate a key card. Go home, kid.” He left CJ and went back to The Terminator. “I can’t go home,” CJ said. “Home’s eight hundred miles away. Where’m I supposed to sleep?” “All I know is where you ain’t gonna sleep.” Neither of them had noticed the man at the table with the coffee carafes. He’d been filling a cup with hot water and grabbing a couple of teabags. He said, “My room two çeşme escort beds in it, kid. You’re welcome to the extra one.” “Really? Thanks!” CJ followed the man to the elevator. In the elevator the man pressed the button for the third floor. CJ followed him into this room but stopped at sight of the single King-sized bed. “I you said you had an extra bed,” he said. “Did I?” the man put the cup of hot water on the computer desk. “I mean I had extra room in my bed.” The man went to the window and opened the drapes. It had started to rain. He turned around and gave CJ a friendly smile. “If you think the sidewalk would be more comfortable, there’s the door.” He sat at the computer desk and after putting a teabag in the cup of hot water started tapping at his laptop. “Are you hungry? I’m gonna order a pizza. Pepperoni okay?” CJ listened to the rain. The sidewalk didn’t sound more comfortable but he wasn’t stupid. He knew what would happen if he stayed. But did he have to stay? He didn’t realize how hungry he was until the man mentioned pizza. Maybe it would stop raining by the time the pizza came. He could eat and then leave. The sidewalks would still be wet, though. And the bed would be a lot more comfortable than a wet sidewalk. Or even a dry one. No one would mug him or arrest him in the bed. And if he had to do stuff with the man, how bad would it be? How long would it last? “Yeah, pepperoni sounds great,” he said. “Thanks.” The man placed the order. CJ sat on the couch in the room, flipping through the channels on the TV, pretending to be interested in what was on. The man sat next to CJ. “So home is eight hundred miles away?” “No, I just said that to the clerk. I wanted him to feel sorry for me so he’d give me a room,” CJ lied. He wanted the man to think he had friends and family in town, people who would notice if he disappeared. It didn’t work, but the man nodded. “How old are you kid? And don’t say eighteen.” “Old enough.” “Oh yeah? Old enough for what?” CJ took his eyes off the TV and looked up at the man. “Old enough to know why you offered me a place to sleep. Old enough to know you didn’t forget you only have one bed.” The man placed his hand on CJ’s thigh. “Old enough to pay to stay here? I’m not talking about money.” CJ wondered how long it would take for the pizza to arrive. “Depends on what the payment is.” He thought back to what he and Brandt had done that so ruined the couch his dad had to have it burned or whatever. All they’d done is jerk each other off. He had an idea this man was expecting more than that tonight. He said, “I never done anything with anyone before. I’m only twelve.” The man smiled and squeezed CJ’s thigh. “Twelve is a wonderful age. You jack off? Masturbate?” “Duh. I mean I never did anything with anyone else.” He figured handjobs with Dwight were none of the man’s business. “So, if you want to do butt stuff to me, then I guess I’ll take the sidewalk. And I don’t know if I can suck your dick. I might throw up. No offense.” The man never stopped smiling. He seemed to be enjoying CJ’s list of what he couldn’t do. He said, “Supposed I just want to do stuff to you?” He held up his hands in a ‘Don’t Worry’ way and said, “Not butt stuff. How would that be? And maybe if you liked what I did to you, you could jerk me off. You could do that, couldn’t you?” CJ was so relieved he wasn’t going to be fucked, he said almost sounded excited. “Sure! I can do that.” “Take your clothes off, kid.” It wasn’t a request. CJ hesitated, but a look at the rain coming down outside the window made up his mind. He got off the couch and faced the man. He pulled his T- shirt over his head, exposing his creamy skin. There was no definition to his chest. His stomach still had the baby fat of a little boy. His tiny pale nipples were dime sized, a shade darker than the rest of his skin. The man nodded in appreciation. CJ unbuckled his belt and stepped out of his jeans. He stood there in a pair of black boxers with what looked like pink and blue donuts on them. The man raised his eyebrows and tilted his head. CJ pulled down the boxers and kicked them across the room. The same cream-colored skin greeted the man; no tan lines because CJ had no tan, but he didn’t look pale. CJ stared at the man defiantly, refusing to look embarrassed. His black curly hair stood high on his head but was trimmed cim cif yapan escort on the sides of his head. His brown eyes reminded the man of the Betazoids on the old Star Trek television show, but those actors relied on contact lenses, didn’t they? CJ’s dark brown eyes were natural. His pert little nose almost came to a point. He could easily get a job at Dundee’s Department Store as an elf at Santa’s workshop, if only he were old enough to legally apply for a job. As it was, the man would happily pay CJ to just stand in front of him naked for eight hours a day. The hotel clerk had been wrong. The boy’s balls had dropped, but not much. And he was smooth as the day he was born. Not a hair on him, other than the curly black hair on his head. The man said, “You sure you jerk off?” “I ought to know if I jerk off or not.” The man reached for CJ’s limp, circumcised penis. “When you do, does anything come out of this beautiful cock?” “Just slime,” CJ gasped, as the man coaxed an erection out of him. It didn’t take much coaxing. CJ’s boner was three inches long and stood straight up, as if someone had asked it to point to the Big Dipper. It was almost impossibly hard. The man ran his tongue along the rigid cock and CJ gasped again. He’d wondered what a blowjob would feel like but never guessed it would be like this. And so far he hadn’t been sucked yet, just one little lick. “Did you like that?” the man asked. What a retarded question, CJ thought, but all he said was, “Yeah!” The man licked CJ’s hardon again. The boy whimpered. His leg started shaking. The man stood up and picked the boy up and carried him to the bed and placed him on it. CJ said, “Aren’t you going to lick me more?” The man smiled. “You bet, kid.” He ran his tongue over the boy’s tiny scrotum before sliding it up his iron hard dick again. The man wanted to take his own cock out, but he had to stay dressed in case the pizza showed up. The man wondered if he could make the kid cum just from licking him. There’d be time after dinner to give him head. He ran his fingertips lightly over the boy’s chest, circling his finger over CJ’s nipples, until they hardened. He pinched them gently while he ran his tongue over the boy’s balls, up his rigid shaft, over his corona and then laved the head of his cock. Each time he licked the flared cockhead the boy moaned and begged the man not to stop. The man had no intention of stopping. He licked the hard little nail again and again. Each time he was rewarded with another whimper from the boy, another plea not to stop. Then the boy made a new noise, and the man wondered if he was crying. “Ohhhhhh!” And then the slime the boy had promised was squirting from his hard, tiny cock, clear and slippery. It landed on CJ’s bare pubis. The man cursed himself, as he wanted to suck it directly from the tap, so to speak, but that could wait until he blew the boy properly. He kept licking the boy’s boner while he mewled and groaned, and the cock spit more slime onto his belly. “STOP!” the boy cried, but the man kept licking, lapping up the slime that lingered on the head of the boy’s cock. “Please! It hurts!” Only when the boy’s dick was clean did the man leave it and lick the slime from the boy’s pubic area and belly. His cock was still hard as a nail. Ah, youth! “Holy fuck!” the kid said in his high, boy’s voice. There was a knock on the door of the motel room. CJ looked at the door in a panic, but then a voice came from the other side. “Mama Mia’s Pizzeria!” CJ ran to the bathroom, his hardon bobbing in front of him. The man walked to the door to retrieve their dinner. The kid was going to need his strength. He had a long night ahead of him. Chapter two coming soon. I respond to all emails, so feel free to write to me at ail If you liked this story, you may like my other stories on Nifty: Young friends: https://www.//gay/young-friends/maxs-bucket-list/ https://www.//gay/young-friends/the-boardwalk/ https://www.//gay/young-friends/the-three-musketeers/ https://www.//gay/young-friends/puppy-love https://www.//gay/young-friends/newsflash https://www.//gay/young-friends/being-dirty https://www.//gay/young-friends/nu-foo https://www.//gay/young-friends/the-cornfield/ https://www.//gay/young-friends/vitamin-j https://www.//gay/young-friends/making-white https://www.//gay/young-friends/tutoring-master-bates https://www.//gay/young-friends/the-elevator-feeling https://www.//gay/young-friends/middle-school-towel-boy Adult Youth https://www.//gay/adult-youth/college-credit https://www.//gay/adult-youth/fairy-moans https://www.//gay/adult-youth/petty-officer-pervert/ https://www.//gay/adult-youth/the-drone High fty//gay/adult-youth/fairy-moans

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