Vinny by Michael Peterson © 2007
Freddy Haynes was possibly the most accomplished twelve year old hustler ever to work the Avenue. With two and a half years experience, he could do more, and earn more, than any of the hundreds of other kids working that acclaimed stretch of urban flesh market.He wasn’t the prettiest boy available, just pleasant with a longish face, a slightly large nose and friendly eyes. His body was slim and well proportioned, his tummy taut and flat, his buns protruded enough to make a nice handful. For guys who liked that sort of thing, his cock was larger than most, plump and exceeding three inches when hard
I remember when, at the tender age of ten, he first hit the strip. Charlie picked him up and drove out to a field on the edge of the city. He later told me that Freddy seemed more curious than anything else but did expect his fifty cents, the going rate for being blown in 1968.
“He liked to bust my lips when he got off. Damn near bounced off the seat. I wudn’t ready for that,” chuckled Charlie. Charlie was a taxi driver who scouted in his cab but only picked up in his old beat up Hudson.
In my experience, first time kids were usually nervous, didn’t do much other than stiffen up when they reached their dry orgasms. Turned out Freddy already knew a lot when he started hustling, even how to get the most out of his butt, but, more on that later.
Well, like I said, Freddy was the best. He did it all. Once he knew what worked best on a guy, his blow jobs were the most exhilarating, not, mind you, the fastest. He knew better than that. He was a first class screw, too, not just a warm orifice. Using empty soda bottles and a broom handle, he expanded what he could take up his rear and learned how to angle in the long ones. He told me about taking Long John all the way. The man had an eight incher. Usually he had to go with a fourteen or older to accomplish full penetration. As a kisser, Freddy damn near tickled your tonsils with his tongue, unless you were a smoker in which case, necking wasn’t on his list of options, for any price. The boy had his standards.
And, the kid was a one hell of a businessman. By ten and a half, he had prices for every conceivable act. Just getting sucked, hands behind the head, fifty cents just like everybody else. One of his spectacular blow jobs cost a dollar fifty, two twenty-five if he swallowed sperm. Kissing was half a buck. A fuck between his delightfully smooth thighs was seventy-five cents. Going inside him was a tad expensive at three dollars plus another seventy-five cents for the condom he insisted one had to wear and the lubricant he provided. On a typical three trick afternoon and evening, Freddy generally took home between seven and ten dollars, a lot of cash for a ten or eleven year old kid back in those days. And that, of course, didn’t include the food he managed to con out of a lot of guys.
The food was important. He ate some but took the rest home to his very poor fatherless family. His mother, with only three primary grades behind her, was a cleaning woman in a factory half an hour away by bus. His little brother by two years, Vincent, Vinny to most except his teachers, was skinny as a rail, defined gangly for an eight year old. The brothers looked enough alike in the face that folks said they could have been twins except for the age difference. The three of them lived in a two room with bath rear apartment on the second floor of a large row house not far from the harbor where their father was a seaman with a girl in every port but no longer Freddy’s mother at theirs.
Most of the money Freddy earned with his talented body he gave to his mother telling her he ran errands and cleaned up for stores in the commercial district nearby.
“And she believes that?” I asked shortly after getting to know him. “Most cleanup kids only make a couple of bucks a day if that. You make five times that.”
“She never says anything.”
You’ll note as we go along that Freddy’s and Vinny’s English is better than most kids from working class areas such as theirs. Their mother remembered her grammar and was hell bent on her kids not only getting a good education but using it to get out of the poverty they endured. Thanks to her, both kids prided themselves that they spoke better than the rest of their classmates and friends. And, both were either at the top of their classes academically or very close. Interestingly enough, this was not as rare among boy hustlers as you might think. I’ve met some very bright kids selling their bodies. And a few intellectual duds too.
I might as well tell you about why Freddy was so knowledgeable on orgasms before he went out that first time with Charlie. Back when he’d been six and Vinny four, the two of them had been wrestling naked after a bath when one, neither remembered who, had plopped his mouth down on the groin of the other who promptly realized how good it felt and insisted on a continuation of the ministration. They soon figured out how to give each other great physical thrills which became near daily sixty-nine sessions. Eventually, one – Freddy and Vinny both insist that it was the other – suggested the other stick his stiff member into his back orifice.
The intimacies never were affairs of affection, just pure physical fun. None of us suspected for a moment that either boy was gay. From remarks heard on the street and in school, both understood that what they did was not generally approved behavior so kept it to themselves. Freddy confided it to me one lazy summer afternoon at a swimming hole we frequented during warmer months. We’d become pretty good friends, maybe more than that over the year we’d known each other. I suspected I’d become a father figure. Freddy brought me his excellent reports cards, showed me his so so artwork and asked me a whole range of questions about life including, of course, sex. He’d sworn me to secrecy enough before that it was no longer necessary when he opened up about the brotherly sex back home.
“Am I a homo?” he asked.
“Nah, I don’t think so. You just like sex is all.”
“But I like it sometimes when I get, you know, when they put theirs in my back here.” He glanced behind himself.
I explained about his prostate. He admitted to having stuck his finger up there and felt the lump. “If I do that when I’m fucking Vinny, the feeling comes really fast.”
“Well, there’s your answer.”
Another interesting conversation took place one Friday night when I picked him up late after his last trick. We did that when he was to spend the night. He was barely eleven and already the boy in most demand on the Avenue. He’d pushed his prices up by half to lower that demand so the Johns wouldn’t be after him in such great numbers. “Everybody’s looking at me with all those men in their cars and everything,” he said just before the price hike. “And some a the other kids are getting angry and I can’t fight fer nothing. Maybe if I tell ‘em that they gotta pay more, then there won’t be so many.”
I had to pay too except when he spent the night or we went off to the river, however, at the old prices.
That night, Freddy appeared a bit distraught but, at first, it didn’t appear to be a demand issue.
“You know Mr. Bill with the white pickup?” he asked me.
I admitted I knew who he was but that was all.
“He didn’t pay me right. He owes me a dollar and twenty-five cents.”
“Wants the old prices?”
Freddy nodded affirmatively.
“Well, don’t go with him any more and if you do, get your money first before you do anything.”
Freddy frowned. I don’t think he liked the idea of giving up a customer, even a difficult one.
“So, whatta you wanna eat or are you full?”
“I’m not hungry. My mother knows what I do.”
It took me a moment to grasp the meaning and gravity of what he’d just said. It clearly explained the long face.
“You mean on the Avenue?”
“Um hm..”
“And she still… How do you know?”
“Vinny heard Bradley tell her, that shit head!”
“What’d he say?”
“That I was going out with guys and lettin’ ‘em fuck me.”
“Jesus! Are you sure? I mean, then how come she let you go out tonight?”
“I told her Bradley was lying then she said that this other kid’s mother said something like that too so I said Bradley probly told her that but she din’t believe me.”
He looked at his hands folded on his lap.
We were only a couple of blocks from my house so I decided to wait until we were inside. That’s when he dropped the real bombshell. “Then she said it okay as long as I din’t let ‘em hurt me and I didn’t take Vinny along.”
I almost hit the brake. Selfishness reared its ugly head. “Does she know about me?” I inquired.
“She din’t say but I guess. She likes you being a teacher an’ all but she din’t say anything. She’s gotta, I s’pose, I dunno.”
It wasn’t that other mothers didn’t know where their hustler kids got the money they brought home. I knew several who were fully aware of the scene. After all, boys had been hustling in that part of town for a century or more. Cops knew but didn’t bother anyone unless there was a complaint or, as had been the case a couple of times with Freddy, guys trying to pick him up blocked traffic. Then they’d chase the kids off that corner for a while.
I was surprised because Freddy’s mother had always seemed very correct, not one to bend rules. Except for the rare burst of anger, neither Freddy nor Vinny used bad language where I could hear them. As opposed to most of the other hustlers, I’d grown to trust Freddy implicitly around my valuables so his mother had put some values in the boy’s head. She was nominally Roman Catholic, attending Mass occasionally and insisting the kids went on holidays. And she was very clean and orderly. The house could have been a hospital.
There was no sex that night though not because of Freddy’s revelations. He’d already been screwed twice and had Saturday and Sunday to go. Anyhow, just cuddling up with that wonderful kid was good enough for me.
And I’d gotten off between the thighs of a hairless thirteen year old smoothie. For a lot less than Freddy would have charged, bless his thick wallet!
Well, enough about Freddy. This short tale is about his younger brother, not him.
Vinny, as mentioned, was sexually well experienced, even knowledgeable from age four. He and Freddy had been sucking and fucking each other since then though not nearly as much since Freddy had taken his buns to the street. Vinny was one very horny boy. He knew his brother was experiencing lots of those great orgasms while he, other than the manual method, was lucky to get off every two or three weeks. Freddy swore to me he was rolling over for Vinny Wednesday nights but the little guy later told me that was a lot of cow dung.
Vinny was well aware of what hustling meant. It was hardly an unknown of means to earn some cash and have fun while doing so. Hustling and hustlers were regular topics of conversation on the school playground and the streets. Vinny had quickly learned how his brother was scarfing all that cash he brought home to his mother, and, to his credit, shared a bit of with his younger brother. Vinny wanted in on the fun and money but Freddy insisted he had to wait until his tenth birthday just as he had.
As that glorious day approached, Vinny regularly reminded his brother about it, asked who he should go with, what he should do and how much he would make. Unbeknownst to Freddy, Vinny made preparations. He knew that getting fucked was the big earner but that men had far larger cocks than his still prepubescent brother. So, several months before his July tenth birthday, he lubricated a cleaned up, long necked whiskey from a neighbor’s trashcan with Vaseline he purchased with saved candy money and sat on it. It hurt.
But, Vinny was no sissy. He knew what he wanted and was willing to take some pain to get it. Little by little, sometimes twice a day, Vinny greased up the same old smelly bottle and squatted over it.
Meanwhile, Freddy was talking to me about how he should work Vinny onto the Avenue and what to do concerning the about to be broken promise to his mother not to allow Vinny into the business.
“Freddy, my friend, that’s a problem. Maybe you ought to discuss it with her. Vinny’s going to do it one of these days with you or on his own. You know that and she probably does too. Doe she know about you two and what you were doing?”
“Oh no. I never told her about that. She’d kill me. But…” He leaned back into the sofa then fell against me. “What do I say to her? She’s gonna say no.” He sighed.
It was a difficult question. Any recommendation I made, if his mother found it came from me, could end my relationship with Freddy, a boy who had become very special to me. Actually, Freddy was the most important person in my life. “Freddy, just what I said, I suppose. He’s gonna try it anyhow. At least you’ll be watching over him, keeping him with men you know to be good guys.”
Choosing me to be the first adult in Vinny’s sex life was probably foreordained. Freddy didn’t tell his mother though he did tell her I was taking them both out to the swimming hole to celebrate Vinny’s tenth birthday.
Being an expert on prostate stimulation, Freddy had planned a very pleasant initiation for his little brother. Vinny knew there’d be sex on our little foray and wasn’t about to allow lunch to get in between him and the fun.
“Let’s go up to the rocks first,” he suggested with a look clearly indicating it wasn’t really just a suggestion.
On the way up the path, I saw Vinny whisper something in Freddy’s ear. Freddy whispered something back that caused Vinny to look back toward me, a smile on his narrow little face.
They had their shirts off and pants loosened before we came to a halt just below a large boulder that jutted out from the side of the forested hill, providing shade and, more importantly, cover from the view of passersby on the dirt road above. I dropped and spread out the old prickly Army surplus blanket we always used.
I’d never seen Vinny naked so was pleasantly surprised on seeing he had a cock as long and chunky as his brother’s. And he was ready, stiff as a log while his older sibling had to rub his a bit to get it up.
Not sure what the sight of a naked hairy man would have, I stayed dressed and sat beside them.
“See, like I told you. He’s got a big one just like me,” extolled Freddy.
He had told me but hearing and seeing are animals of different breeds. Vinny was looking up at me expectantly though I wasn’t sure what he actually expected.
“So, what do we do now?” I asked.
“You suck him and I’ll fuck him. It’ll be great, right, Vinny?”
Vinny’s face expressed curiosity for a moment then he shrugged his shoulders and said, “Okay.” As though he was assenting to a Clark Bar rather than a Snickers.
“So, who goes first?” I inquired.
“Me,” answered Freddy dribbling saliva on his stiff pecker.
Vinny lay face down on the blanket and spread his legs.
“Not like that, Vinny. How’s he gonna do you when yer lying on it.”
“So how?” asked Vinny perplexed if not annoyed.
“Get on yer side an’ I’ll get behind you. John can get in front. You get in front, John.”
Vinny rolled onto his side. I did what I was told but Freddy didn’t approve of my crotch in his little brother’s face. He indicated with a flurry of his hands that I should change direction which I dutifully did.
Freddy slid in behind, up on one elbow, guiding his slick dick between Vinny’s cheeks. He seemed to be having difficulty locating the entry point. “Put yer leg up so I can see better,” he ordered.
Vinny put his top leg up high as he could. Freddy twisted his body and leaned his head over as far as he could, his lips tight in concentration. He pushed his hips forward.
“Uh huh,” said Vinny.
I tried to look but Freddy ordered me to “Okay, do him.”
The moment I put my lips on Vinny’s dong, he pushed inside. Apparently, that didn’t work for Freddy.
“Vinny, you’re not supposed to move, just us. I came out. Stick your leg up again.”
Up went Vinny’s leg. In went Freddy’s cock. Again, I was ordered to get to work.
It wasn’t the easiest position to work from but I began fellating. Immediately, I could tell the difference between Vinny’s cock and Freddy’s. Where the elder Haynes boy was hard but pliable at the start, Vinny was already like marble. I worried he’d cum too fast and this little party would be over in a heartbeat.
Freddy was thrusting like he was trying to push a sofa across a room, slamming Vinny’s crotch into my lips hard enough to eventually make them hurt. I took hold of his hip to lighten the blows but still allow Vinny’s marble pillar to take long trips in and out of my mouth. Suddenly, Vinny grabbed my head. It felt like BB’s were popping up through his cock. Freddy stopped and took hold of my arm.
“Soon’s he lets go a yer head, start doin’ it again. He can cum maybe four or five times.” Freddy had told me about his brother’s staying power and repeatability. I’d looked forward to it.
Vinny let go and said with a slightly strained voice, “okay.”
I planted my mouth over Vinny’s little groin and Freddy got back to work, or something like that. A look up over Vinny’s shoulder showed the pleasant strain on Freddy’s face.
Vinny’s second orgasm came no more than a minute later. Again, he yanked my head into his groin. “Man, this is neat,” he muttered probably to his brother, possibly to himself.
The third orgasm seemed more forceful than the first. Freddy didn’t stop. I looked up but couldn’t see him behind his brother other than to know his head was droped to the blanket and apparently snug against Vinny’s shoulder. Reaching over and feeling his taut back, it was obvious he was well on his way though, from experience, I knew it could still be another minute or so.
Vinny loosed his grip on my skull and nudged me forward with his fingers. I sucked gently hoping to prolong this experience which had me stiff in my pants. One of these two was going to have to allow me between his thighs.
Freddy slowed down but I knew he hadn’t cum. He was one of those kids whose dick head got very sensitive after orgasm, for only for a couple of minutes.
“Don’t stop, Freddy,” said Vinny quietly.
“I’m not stopping. Just don’t wanna cum too soon.”
Brotherly love.
I slowed the gentle sucking with my tongue and lips for the same reason but Vinny wasn’t having any of that. He pulled my head forward, let go then did it again and again. Freddy got back up to speed. Vinny pressed his hands into my back and breathed hard. Freddy fucked hard enough that again I didn’t need to move my head at all.
“Oh, yeah,” grunted Vinny
I began to worry I was going to cum in my pants. Breathing hard sometimes cooled the fires. I breathed hard as I could through my nose. It sort of worked but soon I was reaching for my fly. Getting it out did calm my juices. Vinny came again.
Both brothers were nearly panting. Freddy stopped pumping for a moment then, “Okay, last one. I’m cumming this time. He slammed into his little brother. I just tried to keep from being knocked off Vinny’s deliciously still stone hard peter.
I felt Freddy’s hand join his brother’s on the back of my neck, yanking hard with each thrust. The rhythmic wet smacking sound that came from the other side of Vinny’s middle told me they were both sweating and that very little lubrication would be needed if I could get Freddy to let me drop my boner between his legs.
“Here I come,” declared Freddy banging harder and faster than before. I couldn’t feel any difference in Vinny’s cock so had no idea how close he was. I knew Freddy would have to stop when he came but…
“Now!” declared the elder Haynes.
Vinny stiffened, the muscles in his groin there in front of my eyes displaying every fibre of muscle. The little knobs popped through his cock again. He gripped my head tightly to himself until the orgasm had fully run its course, then went limp, his hand falling to the blanket.
“That was neeeeto!” he announced. “We gotta do that again before we go home.”
Freddy fell back onto the blanket, his shiny peter sticking up at a forty-five degree angle. “Maybe, I got appointments tonight.”
We did it again right after lunch. Waiting the traditional half hour after eating before swimming was just too tempting for all of us.
Vinny accompanying his brother to my house on weekends was a fun but not nearly as satisfying as just Freddy and I. We did manage some weekday evenings when Freddy was allegedly hustling but that wasn’t the same as a Saturday morning and afternoon just being the two of us. Of course, I knew that each time he left me on Saturday or Sunday, it was to go get done by three or more men.
After a fourth Sunday with both, I managed an expensive evening with Freddy, forking over the ten dollars minimum he’d normally pick up renting out the body I so cherished.
We drove to the harbor area and walked down by the water. Other than suggestions where we could go, there wasn’t a word between us until we sat on the side of an old wharf.
“I really like Vinny. You know that but…”
Freddy interrupted, “I’m gonna tell mom she’s gotta let him go out too. I’ll promise to just let him go with men I know, or somethin’, shit!”
It was the first time I’d ever heard a curse word come out of his mouth. Being the last person on earth to naysay bad language, I just smiled and said, “Bothers you too, huh?”
“Well, he’s big enough. I started before him. He’s been ten for a month now.”
I imagined how that would sound to folks from other parts of town. To be frank, I’d been with a couple of sevens and knew a number of kids under ten who were regulars though usually with older kids. But, he was right. The only way we were going to be able to be alone was to find Vinny a man, or two or three, for him to get close to.
“You say anything to your mother about this, since we last talked about it?
“No, but she probly thinks you’re doin’ stuff with him.”
There it was again. “She say that?”
“Naw, but she knows about us so…”
“Since when? You never said she knew.”
“Gees, Jack. She knows I go out with men and you’re a man so what she gonna think.”
“But she ever said anything, exactly about you and me and sex?”
“Not really, exactly, just that she thinks you’re good for me and you love me and you wouldn’t do anything to hurt me, like that.”
I laughed to myself, not about Freddy and his mom. A memory flashed through my mind of a mother of two about five years before. She’d insisted that anytime I screwed her nine and twelve year old sons that I use Vaseline and plenty of it. She’d always insisted both carry a small jar or tin of the stuff. There were three of us taking them home at the time and she knew us all. But it did work out well. Both kids were still in school, doing well. Donny, the elder, was now six feet tall and a mound of muscle. It was good we’d stayed friends.
“What’re you laughing about?” asked Freddy irritated.
I told him. He knew both kids especially Buddy, the younger brother, who was still hustling but downtown where the big money men hung. Freddy looked forward to working that area when he became an adolescent. I dreaded losing him to that crowd.
An hour and a half later with a crabmeat dinner in our bellies, we had a plan. Basically, it involved letting Vinny hit the street on his own without maternal permission. Freddy would abet or interfere, just let his little brother know he wouldn’t snitch to their mother.
Vinny had other plans. Turned out, he wanted me, and was working hard to have me. When Freddy told him he’d keep quiet about any hustling he did, Vinny said, “I wanna go out with Jack. What’s he pay you when you’re just you two?”
“Nothing, jerk! You want money, you gotta go up on the Avenue like me and everybody else.” Or so Freddy told me he said.
“Well, I wanna do some stuff just him and me, too.”
So, a deal was made. Freddy had me alone on Sundays and Vinny could have me Saturday mornings. At twelve thirty, Freddy would come over until he had to go hustle at four or five. Freddy would point Vinny to some men he knew so he’d have something to do Sundays. Maybe a deal is too definite a word because Vinny took it to mean the coming weekend and only tentatively beyond.
It partially came apart Friday night when Freddy dropped off his books after school and headed out the door.
Vinny announced, “I’m going too.”
“I don’ go with other kids, just me. Nobody’s gonna pick me up if I’m with somebody else.” He knew that was a bunch of crap. New kids on the Avenue attracted immediate attention. Guys would pick up a kid they’d never consider if he was with a new face in their age bracket. Freddy figured Vinny would know that. He was right but it didn’t matter to Vinny. Two of his classmates went out and always had pocket money, and went to movies and restaurants. He wanted in on that. For sex, however, his eyes were still on me, big old hairy me.
Freddy gave in but only because he planned to palm Vinny off on a fat kid who only got picked up occasionally. He did give decent rim jobs, I can tell you. Freddy knew Whale would know the value of a new face. And, Vinny knew Whale.
The problem was Whale was no where to be found and men were slowing and motioning for Freddy to come to their cars. One parked and walked up to the brothers. Freddy shooed him off with a worried shake of the head indicating that Vinny wasn’t available, didn’t and shouldn’t know anything.
Frustrated, Freddy told his little brother, “Okay, you wanna go out, you gotta go just you. I’ll get you a nice guy who pays okay. Alright?”
“Uh uh. I don’t know any of these guys. You gotta go with me.”
“Then you gotta go for free ‘cause I’m not gonna make just half ‘cause a you.”
This time, Vinny knew better. “Then how come when Bobby and Stink go out together, they both get paid the same.”
“That’s half, jerk.”
“Uh uh! They each get a dollar when a guy blows ‘em.”
“I get more.”
“No you don’t.”
“Wanna bet?”
“A dollar!”
Freddy knew he’d messed up, accepted it and took the next solicitation.
John in the white Buick, as he was called to distinguish him from the myriad other ‘Johns’, was a good paying customer who usually got sucked then fucked Freddy between the legs.
Freddy had to let him know that night was to be different. Vinny had never seen him suck a man, not even me, and Freddy insisted he didn’t do that kind of thing. Vinny immediately caught on that Freddy was trying to pass a secret to the man behind the wheel.
“How much you gonna pay?” he asked.
“So who’s your friend?” asked John in the white Buick.
Freddy frowned. “He’s my jerky brother. Tell him how much you pay me to blow me,” he said winking fiercely at his customer.
John in the white Buick didn’t fully understand, “A buck like everybody.”
“Told ya!” gloated Vinny.
At the man’s house in the north of the city, Vinny stayed close enough to hear anything said. They undressed together and got on the bed together. John in the white Buick admired Vinny’s hefty penis then sucked them both off, Vinny first. When Vinny had to pee, Freddy took the opportunity to fill his man in.
“He doesn’t know about me sucking but you can go between my legs. Just give me my money where he can’t see it, except the dollar.”
Vinny was back in a flash. John in the white Buick was sucking Freddy. Vinny watched as the man lay on top of his brother and pumped away for a few minutes.
“Is he fucking you?” he asked in a whisper to his bother’s ear.
“No, stupid!”
Freddy managed to get his money on the sly but lost the extra two seventy-five he’d have earned by giving a blowjob and taking the man’s sperm down his throat.
“I wanna get something to eat,” insisted Vinny when they were left off.
“Let one of these guys buy it. I never buy food. See, you don’ know anything.”
John in the blue pickup had them both a couple of minutes after John in the white Buick let them off. Vinny let it be known immediately that he was hungry. As indicated, that worked. The three of them had burgers at a White Tower and a shake from a Dairy Queen. This man expected to fuck both boys.
Again winking rapidly, Freddy said, “You know I never do that.”
John in the green pickup frowned. He apparently understood the situation but really wanted to get his dick wet. “Okay, but you know I like to do each one alone.”
Vinny saw through that immediately. He elbowed his brother in the ribs and whispered in an accusing way, “You lied.”
Freddy gave up. He wanted the money and his brother was going to find out anyway. “Alright, but just me. He just gets blown.”
At the motel, Vinny watched intently at the regimen. First, money changed hands. Out came the condom from Freddy’s back pants pocket.. The pack was opened between Freddy’s teeth, the rubber placed on the man’s cock, then rolled down the shaft. Then came the tube of KY from a front pants pocket. Lube was spread all over the sex pole then a little squirted up Freddy’s rear.
The man lay on his back. Freddy, facing his feet, sat gingerly on the stiff cock, seemingly effortlessly slid down until he was sitting on pubic hairs. Freddy lay back on the man’s chest. The fucking began slowly then gradually sped up.
A few minutes into the action, Vinny, obviously excited, leaned over to his brother and asked, “Wanna fuck me?”
Freddy, whose cock was only semi-hard, shrugged his shoulders then pushed Vinny’s head to his midsection. The ten year old took his brother into his mouth and commenced to go up and down furiously. Seconds later the twelve year old cock was stiff as a rake handle. Vinny climbed up and sat down on it. The man’s hard fucking did all the work for them. Vinny remained sitting and Freddy’s cock bounced back and forth inside him. The man watched intently. He and Freddy got off minutes later. Freddy dutifully sucked off his brother. John in the green pickup gave him a five dollar bill and Vinny two fifty.
I suspect that scene confirmed to Vinny that what he wanted to do was possible.
The following morning, after a quick kitchen chat with his mother during which she smiled a bit less enthusiastically than usual, I followed Vinny to my car. Freddy, for obvious reasons, slept late Saturdays and Sundays.
The moment we were inside, even before I’d closed the door, Vinny was pulling his red and green striped T shirt over his head. It was obvious we weren’t going to eat for a while. Anyhow, I was very curious what the ten year old had on his mind this first time with a man away from his brother. He stopped mid living room to push off his shoes one at a time with the opposite foot while awkwardly pushing down his shorts and underpants. The light from the front window accented the round lines of his buns.
He looked back at me, caught my eyes adoring his backside, smiled and said, “Take off yours too. Get naked like me.”
Stepping deliberately, he took off one then the other sock as he went. Each time he fell forward on the free hand briefly exposing, deliberately I suspected, his little balls and well formed perineum, nicely rounded letting me know the boy was already sporting a full hardon. He stopped in front of the dining room table and turned sideways, showing off that full ass of his. He was definitely better endowed back there than Freddy.
It occurred to me we’d passed the stairs to the second floor bedrooms. “Don’t cha wanna go upstairs?” I supposed he was just being coquettish and had lost of track where he was.
He shook his head, a thoughtful expression on his face.
I unbuttoned my shirt and followed him into the dining room. He was really such a well proportioned little lad. Everything on his very slim frame was as well formed as it could be within the limits of his barely fifty-five pounds. I hoped he let me lick him all over. I waited for him to answer my question.
“I wanna do it here. Get naked.”
Confused but curious, I bent down to untie and remove my shoes.
When I stood back up, he was on his knees on top of the dining room table fumbling with something in his hand. My curiosity and my dong grew. I hurried my pants and boxers off as I approached him.
The thing in his hand was a small jar of Vaseline. My first thought was he was going to lube up between his legs. He’d enjoyed that the three times I’d gotten off that way. Then, without turning around, he said quietly, “Fuck me.”
That was a surprise. “Vinny, I’m way too big for you. It would really hurt…”
“Not it won’t. I know how. Put this on first, then some spit.”
He twisted around and held out the opened Vaseline jar. Seeing my frown, he said, “It’ll work, I tried it. Just go in slow.”
“With who?”
“Nuh uh. A bottle. It won’t hurt any. Just put on some spit too. I’ll show you how.”
My dick was ready, at full attention. My horns were up. My mind was both sure screwing those narrow buns would hurt Vinny, maybe even do damage but, at the same time, excited at the prospect of pushing inside this tight little boy, right up to his belly button. I accepted the Vaseline and gouged out a glob with two fingers, then stopped.
“Whatta you mean a bottle? That’s not the same…”
“Don’t worry. It was this old whiskey bottle I found. An’ I put a pole in too, way up, more ‘n’ you. I know. It’ll be okay. Jus’ do it like I say.” He spoke rapidly, almost in a panic that I’d refuse.
I spread the Vaseline all over my rigid shaft.
“Don’ ferget the spit.”
I raised a wad of saliva and dribbled it onto my greased cock. Vinny lowered himself, stretched ass over his heels, pucker clearly visible, on top of the oak table. He was at the perfect height. I figured he must have planned this whole thing very thoroughly. Still, the little pucker he proffered didn’t seem even remotely capable of taking the adult male organ approaching it.
Then it just sort of yawned open, like a mouth about to take in an ice cream cone. The hole had to have been an inch in diameter. He could have shit and not even known it. The whiskey bottle had to have had one thick neck, more like a milk bottle.
“Mr. Jack?”
He needn’t have worried. I was no longer concerned about at least getting the head of my cock inside him.
I put the slick glans against his sphincter and pushed forward gently.
“Go slow.”
The ridge of the cockhead disappeared inside. I stopped and stepped forward a couple of inches.
“Put in more.”
I put in another inch.
“Wait a minute.” Vinny arched his ass up slightly. “Okay, more.”
Another inch slid inside. Half my cock hot and happy. The other half wanted to be there too.
“A little more then stop fer a minute.”
I wondered where inside I was as a bit more slipped in. I had to be into his colon.
Vinny shifted his butt a bit to the right and pushed back.
“More.”
I tried to sense any resistance at my cockhead. There was a slight pressure that didn’t change one way or the other as I pushed ahead very slowly.
Vinny reached back with his left hand and pulled on my hip bone. My pubic hairs were at his taut ass cheeks. He continued to pull me to him.
“More. All the way.”
My flesh pressed against his. There was no more ‘more’ to put inside. My cock was completely buried deep in Vinny’s not so terribly tight innards. My juices were boiling. I was going to have to work very slowly for this not to be over in a few strokes.
Slowly, Vinny raised his torso, still pulling me to him with his hand. I stepped forward and pushed up, the direction my cock was pointing when he stopped, his shoulders against my chest.
He moved his hips around slowly, moving my boner about his bowels.
“Go out again then back in.”
His right hand took hold of my other hip and pushed me down away from him.
“Not all the way. Leave the top part in there then go all the way back in.”
I bent my knees slightly to withdraw to the glans then pushed deliberately but gently back inside. Vinny tugged me to him.
“All the way. Put more in.”
I lifted up on my toes, pushing every millimeter possible into his rectum. My legs trembled a bit when the heat reached my groin. I pushed hard and held myself there for a moment, enjoying the cuddling his insides were conferring on my shaft.
His hands pushed me down again.
I pulled back.
Then pulled me back in.
I went up on my toes.
“Now, go faster, in and out, fucking.”
My body took control, raising and lowering, fucking at a two seconds per direction. It was incredible. I was sure it was the best fuck I’d ever had.
His hands demanded more force.
I pulled out until only the tip stayed inside his sphincter then pushed clean up inside.
“Make me go up, kinda like bang me up in the air each time.”
After withdrawing relatively slowly, I thrust in a bit faster, bumping his little buns upward.
“Like that but make more go in me.”
I breathed hard in an effort to hold off my orgasm. I’d only been in Vinny for a couple of minutes and knew he’d want to go for multiple orgasms.
“I gotto slower or I’m gonna cum and then I’ll get soft.”
“Okay, okay. Just go up hard, make me go up in the air.”
I made sure to bounce him at the end of each thrust.
After another couple of minutes, with me getting control of my passion by stopping briefly at the bottom of each stroke, Vinny sought out my right hand and pulled it to his crotch. I thought he wanted me to masturbate him but he had something else in mind.
“Put your fingers down here and move them around.”
He pressed my two middle fingers into his perineum and moved them side to side.
“Like this.”
His dick was hard as oak above the flesh between his legs. His ballsack felt soft in my hand. I looked over his shoulder. Vinny’s bloated three inches stuck out at a thirty degree angle from his groin. There was little doubt even in my clouded mind that touching it would have ended our pleasure.
My juices were rising to a point of no return. I stopped up inside.
“Don’t stop.” He moved up and down to accent his urgent message.
“I’m too close, Vinny. Just a few seconds.”
“Go in more.”
There was really no more to inject but I pushed up anyway. Vinny took my free arm and pulled it up from where it had been balancing us on the table top and embraced it to his chest. He moved his hips slowly side to side.
“Now, fuck some more, Hard.”
After two deep breaths, I gripped Vinny’s body with my left arm and pulled back, again to where I was just maintaining a slight beachhead. Putting my legs and hips behind it, I pushed up inside, increasing speed as I entered. He held my arm tighter and I lifted his little body. He grunted.
“That hurt?” I asked backing off a little.
“No! No! Do it like that. Go in more!”
I repeated. My head began to swirl. Once again, I stopped at the bottom of each fuck in an attempt to hold back my imminent orgasm, adding hard breathing to the mix.
Vinny grunted every third thrust, adding to the thrill.
Then I felt his ass muscle grab my cock, sensed the throbbing there and in my finger tips. The little BB’s rolled up his perineum into his peter. I pushed in two more times without stopping and fired my buckshot up his colon, almost falling backward as dizziness nearly overwhelmed me. I leaned forward and put out my right hand to find something stable.
“Don’t let it go out!” said Vinny in a half panic. “Put it all the way in.”
I straightened my weak legs and pushed up. If he’d wanted another screwing, it was unlikely I’d be able to perform. But, he had something else in mind.
“Keep it in and carry me up to the bed. Just don’t take it out.”
After another deep breath, I pulled us back from the table. His legs fell down in front of mine. Had he weighed more than fifty-five pounds, I doubt I’d have had the strength to carry him but I did. Each step up required holding up somewhat out in front of me to keep my slightly softening cock inside him.
At the bed, I turned and sat down, falling over on my back. Vinny kept himself up, then revolved ninety degrees, planting himself firmly on my crotch. There was no way my cock, even completely soft which it wasn’t near being, could have gotten out of the boy hole.
He looked at me and smiled. “Neat, huh? How long’s it take you so you can do it again?”
“About ten or fifteen minutes.”
“Okay. Wanna play a game? We can play Fish with those cards.” He pointed to a deck on the bed stand.
Surprisingly, or not, it didn’t take very long, just one game, which I lost legitimately, for me to be ready to go again. He had me fuck him face down, hard right from the start. He knew, probably from asking his brother, that it would take me a while longer than the first time.
“Go in more! Harder!” he said several times, his hands yanking at my hips.
It wasn’t as exhilarating as that first incredible experience, but it was as good as the best of the others, as good as his very talented and experienced brother.
The moment I shot my sperm up his well greased colon, he thrust his hips forward into the bed and had his own orgasm.
I let him eat Sugar Frosted Flakes for lunch. I knew he didn’t need any more protein.