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Subject: A Little Bit of Sugar Chapter 1 A Little Bit of Sugar by RJ This multi-part fiction involves sexual contact between an adult and a minor. If you are offended by such themes, do not read. Note that the characters here fictional and nothing in this story is associated with the company “Vice.” And remember to play it safe in real life! If you have any comments about my work, or even just want to chat, please don’t hesitate to message me. As always, please support Nifty in any way you can. ~ CHAPTER 1 ~ He’s not so subtle, this kid. Ever since he sat down across from me, I keep catching him looking at me. And the thing is, when I look up, he doesn’t turn away. Just smiles. It’s a half-smile. The left corner of his lip tilts upward, giving him a knowing sort of expression. I smile back out of politeness, but I’m not sure if he recognizes me or something, so eventually I speak up. “Do you need something?” I ask. He just shrugs. “Not really.” And then he hits me with that smile again. I look at him. He’s wearing a pair of short shorts and a loose, thin tank top with deep openings on the sides, so I can see plenty of skin. That itself is alluring to me. And then there’s his face: soft and smooth, equipped with full lips and penetrating eyes. By the looks of him, I’d say he’s maybe average or slightly-above average weight — a nice mix of muscle and a very thin layer of fat, which gives his body slight thickness and his face a little roundness. He’s beautiful, that’s for sure. If I had to guess, I’d say he’s barely a day over eighteen, which, if I’m being honest, only makes him more attractive. He has what looks to be faded paint on his face, his arms, his hands, and his shirt, and even a little in his short brown hair. They’re light, pastel colors. Maybe he attended Pride this weekend and, like me, is taking the late-night train back home. “You look fancy,” he says suddenly. “Do I?” It’s a simple suit — an admittedly posh but minimalist design — but it’s one of my most comfortable ones. Perfect for being in the city all day. And it looks damn good on me. “Business in the big city?” “Something like that,” I say, my arm draped over the notebook in my lap. I nod at his outfit. “Probably not as fun as whatever you were doing.” He laughs, flashing me his perfectly straight and perfectly white teeth. Damn, this kid is a knock-out. “Probably.” “Pride?” I ask. He smirks. “How’d you guess?” “I think it was the, uh, gay-colored paint all over you,” I tease. “And here I thought the fuck-me outfit would have given me away.” I laugh briefly, and before I can get a word in, he makes another comment. “You have a gap-tooth.” It must have shone when I laughed. “Two for two, kid,” I say, teasing him about his observations. He just smiles. “It’s cute.” Cute. Hearing that word takes me back to high school, with those first few sensations I got when an attractive boy called me cute. The little butterflies fluttering around in my stomach, and the insanely uncomfortable warmth in my cheeks. It’s not the same now, of course, and I just merely smile at the compliment, but the feelings are still faintly there. At 35, my face really hasn’t changed too much since I was that kid. Now I just have some facial hair, thicker, more masculine brows, and a couple lines in my forehead. But, if you took away those three features, one could appropriately call me “cute” instead of “handsome.” The shape of my face is still the same, eyes are still clear and hazel, and my smile hasn’t changed a centimeter. My body is different though. More developed and aged. Even though I’m still only 5’8″, I now have the musculature to fill myself in, and the already-salt-and-pepper hair to feel distinguished. “Thanks,” I say. “It suits you,” he adds, tilting his head a bit as he studies my face. “Took me a long time to like it, that’s for sure.” “Why?” “You know any other kids with a gap?” I ask. He thinks for a moment before shaking his head. “Don’t think so.” “Exactly.” “It makes you more attractive,” he says. “Separates you from the rest.” Attractive, huh? I resist checking him out again. There’s clearly a sexual air about him, and I feel like he’s targeting his energy towards me. Purposefully. “Well, thank you,” I say politely, looking back down at the notebook in my lap. I try to resume working, but he interrupts again. “What are you working on?” he asks. I look up. “Just some stuff for my job.” “Which is…?” “I’m an editor,” I say, smiling. “For a magazine.” “Really?” he asks, looking impressed. “Have I heard of it?” “You might have.” Odds are he has, though it’s more popular around kids in college or in their 20s. He waits for me to say the title, urging me on with a look. “Vice?” “Vice?” he repeats, staring at me. “You work for Vice?” I practically am Vice, but I don’t push it. “Yeah.” “I fucking love Vice,” he says, laughing. “Really? Wouldn’t have pegged you for a Vice reader.” “It’s like, news for the underdogs,” he says. “Perfect mix of politics and social issues and, you know, more fun, light-hearted topics. Much more my speed.” He glances at my lap. “Is that something for the magazine?” “Yeah,” I say, shrugging. “Though between you and me, this writer is shit.” He laughs. “I might just rewrite the whole thing myself.” “What’s it about?” “Has to do with gun violence, and mass shootings in the US. It’s a compact article, though, so it’s difficult to get everything out without rushing or overloading the reader with information that’s not impactful.” “That’s so cool,” he says, laughing. “Man, I wish I worked at Vice.” “Why don’t you?” He looks at me as if this is totally new information. “Well… I don’t know. I’m probably not qualified…” “You’d be surprised,” I say with a chuckle. “Why don’t you try an internship or something,” I suggest, shrugging. “Really? You guys offer those?” “All the time,” I say, laughing. “You in the city often?” “Yeah,” he says, smiling. “Working?” “Odd jobs. Nothing major.” “How old are you?” “Eighteen.” Then he smiles. “Is this my interview or something?” I laugh. “That’s not up to me. But I CAN put in recommendations for people I like.” I grin at him. “Do you like me?” he asks playfully. “You’re alright,” I tease, looking him up and down once. “What are the internships for?” “Any department, really.” “Editing sounds fun,” he says. “You must get a little taste of everything.” I laugh. “More or less.” Then he stands up and moves my bag onto the floor before sitting next to me. “Can I see?” he asks, gesturing towards the notebook. I’m a little surprised he’s sitting so close, but I just pass him the notebook and pen. He chews on the end of it lightly as he reads through the article as well as my corrections, even daring to make some corrections of his own. I admit, I find myself staring at him for a while. Since his shirt is so loose, I can see the pink nipples on his chest, still smooth. I check out his thick thighs as well, licking my lips slightly. He must feel like goddamn silk. There’s barely a hair on this kid. Eventually, my eyes drift to the notebook, watching him make his edits. I don’t stop him, especially since his edits make sense. “This transition is horrible,” he mutters to himself, pointing at the conclusion. I laugh. “I told you.” He stares at the page for a bit before crossing out certain words, writing in replacements, and even going as far as rewriting whole sentences in the margin. Then, he hands the notebook back to me. “Here.” I read his edits, nodding, only crossing out one out of eleven of his corrections. I’m even impressed with his rewritten conclusion; it flows infinitely better than the original does. “You a writer?” “Not really,” he says, shrugging. “I’m just good at it.” “Fair enough,” I say laughing before I look at him. “What’s your name, by the way?” He smiles. “Dylan.” “I’m Milo.” He laughs. “Milo? You don’t look like a Milo.” “No? What do I look like then?” “Something sexier. Like, I don’t know. A Gabriel?” I laugh. “Too Biblical.” “That’s the fun of it,” he says with a grin. “I bet you’re a little sinful.” I smirk back. His advances are getting heavier. “I think you’re confused.” “Confused, huh?” he says, smiling. “So I’m reading the signs wrong?” “What signs?” “You wanna fuck me.” He says it so bluntly that I laugh. “No.” “No?” I hold up my finger, the one with the wedding band. “No.” “I didn’t say IF you’d actually fuck me. I just said you WANT to fuck me.” “Well, you’re too young for me,” I lie. “I don’t believe you.” “So you’re calling me a liar?” “Yep.” “I’m not.” “I’d bet a hundred dollars that you’re lying.” I smirk slightly. “I’m old enough to be your dad.” “That’s kind of hot, isn’t it?” I roll my eyes, laughing. “I’m just too old for you, kid. Trust me.” “How would you know? You don’t know me,” he says. “You don’t know what I like.” “Tell me, then,” I tease back. I haven’t flirted this intently with anyone in a long time. This is fun. He grins, pausing. “So you want to get to know me?” I lick my lip slightly before shaking my head slightly. “Nah.” He laughs slightly before staring at me for a brief moment. Then he gently reaches out, picks up my hand, and raises it up to his pouty lips. He parts them slightly and slips my index and middle fingers right into his mouth, along his silky tongue, before wrapping his lips around my digits. All while looking right at me. I’m instantly incredibly hard, harder than I’ve been in weeks. Almost a little breathless, too. I feel his tongue slowly slide around my fingers as he gently slides his lips off of them and then licks his lips like he just ate a good meal. It was so dirty, so bold, that I find myself staring at him. I forget all about my husband who’s waiting for me at home. All that’s on my mind is Dylan, with his smooth skin and piercing eyes and thick, full lips. I want my cock around those lips. I want to taste his mouth, his skin, his sure-to-be pretty hole. I want to be inside him. I want to ravage him. And he just smiles up at me. It’s a knowing smile. He knows exactly what he’s doing to me, exactly what I’m thinking about. He lets go of my hand. “How about now?” he asks. “Yeah,” I say softly. Thankfully, the only person nearby is a woman across the aisle from us, and she’s asleep with her headphones in. She missed Dylan’s little demonstration. Even as we chat about innocent things (like where we’re from), my cock is still hard, and remains as such until we get to our stop. Turns out we’re both getting off at the same station, in downtown Fairview, since I live uptown and he’s getting a ride from the station. By the time the train stops in front of our platform, I have to hold my bag in front of my crotch to avoid my tent being seen. I discreetly adjust myself as we hop off the train. I step outside first and he follows behind me, audibly breathing in that summer night air. “Feels good,” he says, stretching. “Yeah, it’s a nice night,” I say, rummaging in my pocket for my keys. They jingle a bit as I pull them out and start walking off the platform towards the parking lot. I stop at the curb. He had followed, so he’s right next to me. “So, maybe I’ll see you at the office one day?” He laughs. “Well I’m definitely gonna look into it,” he says. “I need the money.” Part of me is hoping he doesn’t get accepted for an internship. This fucker would be walking temptation for me. “Just mention my name and you’ll be set.” “Big influence, huh?” “Just a little.” I smile. “It was nice meeting you, Dylan,” I say, extending my hand. He looks down, laughing at me before shaking my hand. “Yes sir,” he teases before he looks around. “Can I ask you something though?” “Sure.” “I don’t think my ride is here, though,” he says, looking back up at me. He looks at me expectantly. “Do you… want a ride?” I ask hesitantly. Is that what he’s asking? “That’s not what I want,” he says. “Okay.” There’s another pause before I ask another question. “What do you want, then?” “You know what I want, Milo.” He grins slightly, and I just bite my lip. “Keep me company?” “I really should get going. It’s late.” “All the more reason to stay and make sure I’m safe.” I chuckle. “You look like you can handle yourself.” He laughs. “Fine. You don’t have to stay.” “Okay.” “But you can at least give me a kiss goodbye.” “You’re pushing it, kid.” “Oh, come on. Just an innocent little kiss.” He tilts his head to the side and taps his cheek. Normally, I wouldn’t. I won’t say I’ve had a ton of advances before, but I’ve had my fair share while I’ve been married, and I’ve turned them all down politely. There’s something about Dylan, though, kocaeli escort that just flat-out excites me. And he knows it. This is all foreplay for him, I’m sure. Maybe what’s between us is purely sexual. And I shouldn’t tempt fate, but I tell myself “It’s just an innocent kiss on the cheek” because I want to touch him in some way. So I lean down and plant a soft kiss on his cheek. “There,” I say. But he turns his head and presses his lips to mine before I can react. His lips are so damn soft. So fucking goddamn soft. I find myself kissing him back, pressing harder against his lips, wanting to see how deep I can go. I muster up enough sensibility to pull back, inhaling a bit. When I open my eyes, I see Dylan just smiling at me. A little devilishly, I might add. He licks his lips slowly and purposefully before his eyes travel down my body. Then he steps forward, but he does it so slowly that I find myself too eager, reaching out to pull him in. He laughs in surprise, but I shut him up by kissing him again. I feel his hands sliding down my front, and then, by the time they reach my crotch, I’m already stiff as a board. And my dick had just started to go down before we started kissing. He hums against my lips, feeling me up through my slacks. He pulls back slightly, more breathless than I am. “Where’s your car?” he asks. “Right over there.” I point vaguely to nowhere in particular, just going right back to kissing him. He giggles against my lips before pushing me back, breaking the kiss. “Show me,” he says, patting my bulge. I grunt a bit before sighing. I’m surprised by how much I don’t care that I’m about to do something I shouldn’t. I’ve never cheated on my husband before. Sure, I’ve had the desire to on occasion, but no one has ever been as enticing as this boy. I lead him to the car, grabbing my keys out of my pocket again. I unlock the door with the clicker, but we never end up getting inside. He turns me around and presses me against the side of my car, kissing me again while he works at my belt. He struggles for a bit before breaking the kiss and making a frustrated noise. “What the fuck is this?” I can’t help but laugh. “It’s a weird design. Here.” I set my bag down and then undo the intricate fastener for him. “There–” I start to say, but his hands are already slapping mine away, quickly undoing my fly and then reaching inside to grip my cock. I inhale, tensing as he touches me for the first time, and then moan softly as he pulls me out into open air. “You’re thick,” he says, looking down and fondling my cock. He strokes it slightly, and I watch his hands move before looking at his face. He’s looking down, licking his lips very slightly. I lean in and kiss him, and he kisses me back with matched fervor, gripping my dick with a tight fist before quickly getting to his knees. I almost melt in his mouth. The inside of his mouth feels foreign and lovely and perfect. I let my head fall back slightly, closing my eyes and just enjoying the wet, warm sensations his tongue and lips are bringing me. He’s good. Really good, actually. Either he’s a natural, or he’s a seasoned player, because he really knows his way around a cock. His tongue works with precision, hitting all the pleasure points around my head even as he tries to take me deep. I hold the back of his head, guiding him lower, feeling myself slide into his throat. He holds my hips, clutching at my shirt as I start to pump my hips. I go slow at first, but I feel him nod and say “Mhm,” and then pick up the pace. I fuck his pretty mouth. He slobbers on my cock, gagging a few times and surely making a little bit of a mess but I don’t care. I just want to get off. I watch him work, and I even see him pull his own dick out of his shorts, stroking it eagerly as he blows me. He looks up at me with those pretty eyes of his as I rock my hips back and forth, working his mouth over me like a pro. His eyes glisten because he has tears in them. They stream down his face a bit when I go into his throat. My dick throbs. I feel the orgasm building slowly, and I bite my lip hard, starting to moan a little more. “I’m gonna cum, Dylan,” I say. I expect him to pull off, but, considering the way he sucked on my fingers earlier, I should have known better. He doesn’t stop. He even speeds up his pace, and I let him work me over like he wants to while I grip the base of my cock and stroke into his mouth. Slowly, slowly, slowly, I feel the cum rising and building until finally, I explode. I moan out, hunching over slightly as I cum in Dylan’s mouth, and he closes his eyes as if relishing in it. He doesn’t miss a damn drop, and he only coughs once. I hold my hand on the top of his head as he drinks down my load and then nurses on the tip of my cock. His arm moves a little faster and his moans get a little more insistent until he cums on the pavement between my shoes. I don’t pull away, enjoying the feeling of myself going soft in his mouth. Finally, he pulls off with a lewd pop before standing up, wiping his lips with the back of his hand and then grinning at me. “Thanks,” he says, stuffing his cock back into his shorts. I chuckle slightly. “Yeah.” I fix myself up to, putting my cock away, zipping up my fly, tucking my shirt back in, and readjusting my belt. “Maybe I’ll see you around, handsome,” he says, starting to walk away. But he doesn’t go towards to the benches by the station to wait for his ride. He walks towards the parking lot exit. I blink a bit, looking around for a car that would possibly pick him up. But the lot isn’t busy at all. “Where are you going?” I ask. “Home!” he calls back, turning and facing me as he walks backwards. “What about your ride?” “I lied,” he says, and I can see him grinning. “I’m not getting a ride. I live nearby.” “But why–” “I just wanted to suck your cock,” he says. I look around. Thankfully no one’s around to hear him. “Bye, Mr. Milo!” he says with a laugh before turning and starting to jog away. I think about him often, the boy from the train. When I’m home with Jared, even when we’re having sex, Dylan doesn’t cross my mind. Jared’s enough to keep my attention fully. He’s a hunk of a man. A total silver fox. Older, taller, muscled, a little hairy. The kind of guy that can dominate me into oblivion but also cuddle me to sleep since he’s the most loveable man I’ve ever met. I love my husband dearly, and when I’m with him, there’s no one else. No, it’s usually when I’m alone, like on the train to and from the city, that I think about Dylan. I take a seat and wonder if Dylan will pop in and join me. I’ll hop off the platform wondering if he’s waiting to corner me and suck me off in the middle of a parking lot. Even when I’m at work and find a chance moment to myself, I imagine him strolling in, ready to start his internship. Maybe even under me. It’s all fantasy of course. But it’s a fantasy that makes my cock twitch nonetheless. I haven’t told Jared about it, and I don’t think I will. I keep telling myself that it was just an innocent blowjob, a one-time thing, and I pretend like I don’t look for Dylan’s face every time I leave Fairview. I don’t find him, though. Seems I got away with it. But then, almost two months later, I find myself face-to-face with Dylan again. In my goddamn kitchen. Lo and behold, he stands there looking at me with that same smile while my husband introduces us. I’m at a loss for words. Stunned. Concerned. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Fletcher,” he says, as if we’ve never met before. As if those lips weren’t wrapped around the head of my cock just two months prior. “Uh… you too,” I say, glancing at Jared. He seems completely unaware of what’s going on, no thanks to Dylan’s performance. Or maybe Dylan doesn’t actually remember me? “You ready to go, babe?” Jared asks me. I clear my throat. “Um. Yeah, I think so.” “Great.” He puts his hands together before guiding Dylan to the fridge. “You have my number. Milo’s number’s right here if you need to reach us and can’t get to me. Laila’s pretty tame, I promise. She’ll probably ask for a bed time story or a movie, but that’s about it. Just don’t let her stay up past 9:30.” “Sounds easy enough,” Dylan says, nodding. “And no sugar,” I chime in. “Otherwise she’ll never sleep.” “Gotcha.” He smiles at me. “Help yourself to any food or whatever. Lord knows we have too much.” Jared looks at me and cocks his head towards the go. “Let’s get going, we’re gonna be late.” “Right.” I glance at Dylan, but he’s not looking at me. He’s putting my number into his phone. “See ya later,” I say. “Have fun, guys!” Dylan says, glancing back at us briefly. “Thanks again!” Jared says. He grabs my arm since I’m staring at the kid and tugs me towards the front door, chuckling to himself. “I know he’s cute and all, but we gotta go,” he teases. For the first time in a while, I find myself blushing. Just last week, we got the news that our go-to-babysitter Stephanie is moving. Jared and I go out a lot, often for work-related things, and it was great having Stephanie around so often to take care of our six-year-old daughter. And, considering Jared and I are extremely well-off, the pay rate kept her close. But her family is packing up and heading West, which meant we had to find a new babysitter. One of our mutual friends suggested someone named DJ. “Oh he’s sooo great,” she said, fawning. “He’s fifteen, local, smart and just the sweetest thing, super good with my nieces.” Jared had blinked a few times. “Sorry, you lost me at ‘he’.” I finished the thought for him. “No offense, Kelly, but we don’t want a boy watching our daughter,” I said firmly. She understood what we were implying after a moment, looking scandalized. “Oh, no no no. Heavens, no. DJ is as gay as they come.” We still had our reservations but, considering we needed someone last minute, we agreed, and Jared got in touch with “DJ”. Turns out it’s fucking Dylan. DJ must be a name he goes by at school or something. Part of me thinks I should have guessed. After all, we live in the same town. But there’s no way I could have guessed “DJ” meant “Dylan.” And he’s fifteen. Christ. That means I let a fifteen year old suck my dick. It’s all I can think about while Jared and I are out. Dylan being DJ, Dylan being fifteen, Dylan now being in my home. I’m completely distracted, but luckily, Jared gets pretty drunk at the work event, so he doesn’t notice. By the time we get home, I have to guide him upstairs and get him into bed before I head back downstairs to pay Dylan for babysitting Laila. Dylan waits for me at the island, leaning his hip against it and smiling when I come in. “He okay?” he asks, pointing upstairs. “He’ll be fine,” I say, pulling out my wallet. “You guys have a crazy nice house,” he says, glancing around the kitchen before his eyes fall on me. “I didn’t know you were rich when I met you.” So he does remember me. He was just good at pretending for Jared. I pull out a number of fifty dollar bills, handing them to him. “I didn’t know you were fifteen.” He winces slightly, taking the money. “Sorry about that.” I don’t say anything in response, just sighing. I look at him slightly. “Also, ‘DJ’?” He laughs. “That’s what everyone calls me at school.” “It’s stupid,” I say. “No need to be mean about it,” he says with a grin before counting the money. He blinks. “You’re giving me this much?” “I took off fifty for you lying to me.” He stares at me. “Really?” I laugh. “No.” He smiles a bit, leafing through the bills again. “This is too much, Milo.” “I’m rich, remember?” “I guess, but–” “Just accept the money, kid.” He shrugs, pocketing the money with a smile. “Thanks.” “Want me to call you a cab?” “That’d be great.” I call the cab service I have connections with, the same one I used for Stephanie. I also give Dylan the number so that he can use it to get here if it’s easier for him. I then walk him to the door. “So is this a permanent job?” he asks. “Like a regular thing?” “I suppose. I have to see if Laila liked you or not.” “What about you?” “What about me?” “Do you like me or not?” he asks with a smirk. I blink. “Don’t start.” He laughs. “It’s a perfectly reasonable question.” I sigh. “I like you enough to hire you, but that’s a hard ‘maybe’.” “Do you at least like me enough to let me suck your cock again?” I wince. “Keep it down–” “Oh, relax, he’s not gonna hear,” he says, laughing slightly. I run my fingers through my hair. “You can’t be saying stuff like that.” “Did you not like it?” he asks, putting on a disappointed face. “I thought I was pretty good.” He was damn good, but I’m not about to tell him that. “Dylan…” I say threateningly. darıca escort He rolls his eyes. “Alright, alright.” “I mean it, Dylan,” I say. “If you want the job, no more flirting. No more advances. And no talking about what happened.” He stares at me, half grinning before shrugging. “You’re no fun, but fine.” “Good.” “But–” “Christ…” “What? Just let me ask a question.” I cross my arms over my chest. “One question.” He grins a little, thinking. “Have you thought about it since it happened? And be honest.” The smart thing to do would be to say ‘no’. But I can’t help but feel like he knows all of my thoughts. “Yes,” I end up saying. “Really?” He perks up, laughing. I open the door. “Yes. Now go wait outside.” “But it’s cold,” he whines. “It is not.” He just smiles. “Fine,” he says, shrugging. “Thanks for the money, by the way,” he says seriously, the flirtatious energy taking a backseat. “You really didn’t have to give me that much.” “That’s our normal rate, honestly,” I say. “You’re watching our daughter. I think it’s fair.” “You have a crazy idea of what’s normal,” he says with a laugh. “Well, if you ever need me again, please let me know.” “Why don’t you send Jared your general schedule so we get an idea of when you’re free? And we’ll go from there.” “Okay!” He smiles brightly before stepping outside. “Thanks again,” he says, waving as he walks down the driveway towards the road, waiting for the cab. I watch him leave, hating that I’m staring right at his ass as he walks away. I lock up for the night, sighing heavily as I head up to bed. Jared’s passed out, but I’m so horny that I have to jerk off (thinking about Dylan) before I can sleep. I head into the office the next day for work. A lot of the time, I can get away with working from home, but today, I have to sit through a few important meetings that desperately need my authority. Things are going pretty smoothly, although by the third meeting, I’m tired and bored and I’m finding it difficult to concentrate. I busy myself with my phone, sorting through a few emails and missed texts. One stands out, though — a text from a number I don’t recognize. I read the first few words: “Hey! It’s Dylan. I’m free at any–” I open my phone and then read the message. It’s an explanation of his schedule. He’s free any weekday except Mondays, and can do weekends if he has a bit of notice. He also emphasizes that he’ll try his best to make time if we need something last minute. I suppose the pay rate is extremely enticing to him. I wonder if I’m also an incentive to him. I push those thoughts out of my head and respond to him. “How’s Thursday? I have a work event that I’m planning on bringing Jared to.” Just a minute later, Dylan responds with a “Thurs is perfect”. Then, “What time?” “Planning on taking the 4:32 train. Staying until maybe 11. If you could get there early that’d be helpful.” “I can get to your house any time after 3:30”. I respond with, “That works. See you then.” He simply says “Thanks!” and I figure that’s the end of that. But about half a minute later, he sends another message. “I’m particularly excited to see you tho”. It takes me five minutes to respond because I know I shouldn’t tempt anything. I should just ignore the message and not respond. I’d be inviting potentially catastrophic consequences into my life if I take things further. But I can’t resist. “Why’s that?” I ask. “Idk”, he responds with. Then, “Just missing that cute little gap tooth smile of yours”. Then, “That’s all”. “That’s sweet of you.” “In the interest of fairness, you should say that you’re also excited to see me”. Then, “Or hit me with a compliment, your choice”. I smirk slightly at the messages. “I’m also excited to see you.” “That was a total cop out since I know you are, but I’ll let it slide”. I actually laugh out loud a little bit, and my neighbor glances over at me in surprise. I just shrug it off, paying attention to the speaker at the head of the table and waiting a minute or so to respond. However, he had sent another message in the meantime. “Did you go into work today?” “Yes.” “How’s are things in the big city?” I smile and respond with “Boring. How’s school?” “Coincidentally, boring”. Then, “It’s hard to focus in science”. “Science can be fun.” “Chemistry is fun,” he says. Then, “Physics is not”. Then, “Are you wearing one of your fancy suits again?” “Have to. Lots of meetings.” “Wish I was there to see”. I almost respond with something a little more daring, but he types fast, and hits me with another message. “Hey so I looked into it and applied for the fall internship”. “You sure you can handle it? You’re still in high school.” “I can handle a lot of things, trust me”. That sounds vaguely sexual. Then again, this kid exudes sex. “I can make it work.” Then, “It’s paid, right? I wanted to ask in my email for confirmation, but I didn’t want it to sound like I’m only doing it for the money… Ya know?” “Understandable. It is paid, don’t worry.” “Sweet. Do you know how much?” “I can look into it for you.” “Thanks, daddio”. I chuckle slightly before sending another message. “Saving up for something big?” “Not really.” Then, “My mom’s sick so I’ve been working as many odd jobs as I can”. My heart sinks a bit. His mom’s sick? What does that mean? “Is she okay?” “She has celiac disease” he responds with. Then, “Took the doctors literally forever to diagnose her right, and she has to have surgery”. I don’t know too much about celiac disease. I just know it has to do with someone being allergic to gluten, which can’t be easy to avoid nowadays, especially if you don’t know. I make a mental note to look into it later. “What’s the surgery?” “Her small intestine has some damage”. Then, “Honestly I feel like it’s their fault for not properly diagnosing their patient but whatever”. Then, “Conspiracy theory: they just want to tack on as many charges to her bill as possible”. Then, “These bills are insane, Milo”. I bite my lip a bit, staring at my phone before I type up a message. “I’m sorry to hear all that. She’s lucky to have a kid like you by her side.” It’s not everything I want to say, but being distracted by the meetings I’m in, I can’t focus on giving sound advice or support. “Oh I know. I’m pretty great, aren’t I”. I can’t help but smile a bit. “You’re alright,” I type back, remembering the other night and smiling to myself. Dylan gets me through the next two borderline-needless meetings, and we stay in relatively constant contact throughout the next few days. I find that he’s more than just my initial impression of him, which only revolved around how my cock responded to him. He’s smart, driven, generous, funny, strong-willed, and, most of all, mature. Maybe that’s why I often forget that I’m texting a fifteen year old regularly. Then Thursday comes around. Just after 3:45pm, Jared and I hear the doorbell, and we both freeze. Jared asks if I was expecting a delivery or something, and then it hits me. I totally forgot Dylan was planning on coming early. “Shit,” I whisper. “What?” Jared asks, still holding on to my hips. He grinds into me slowly, his dick deep in me right now. “It’s Dylan. He’s coming early. I forgot to tell you.” “Damn it,” Jared says, laughing. He grips me a little tighter, pressing into me more, and I moan. “Should we stop?” “We can’t just leave him out there,” I say, my cock throbbing. “We should just give him a key,” Jared suggests, leaning over and kissing my neck. “What, so he can walk in on us?” I say with a laugh. I press back into him. “Would that be so bad?” If I had been stroking myself, I would have cum right then and there, picturing Dylan walking in on us. That wouldn’t be bad. At all. And apparently Jared wouldn’t mind. “You look hot when you’re getting fucked.” “Shut up,” I grunt, grinding into his crotch. He chuckles slightly. “Plus,” he adds, nibbling my ear, “he’s pretty damn cute, yeah?” Is he saying what I think he’s saying? “He’s fifteen,” I say, though of course, I don’t think that’d stop me. Jared’s moving against me a little more, nibbling on my ear. “Still.” He moans softly as he gets even deeper. Oh God. Maybe he’s saying what I think he’s saying. But then again, it could be just the horniness talking. Jared says all kinds of shit when we’re having sex. The doorbell rings again, and we both groan. Jared sighs before pushing against my back and then pulling out of me. I exhale deeply, rock hard still. I look over at Jared and the cock that’s swinging between his legs. “I’ll go start the shower. Just go let him in and then come back up,” he says, leaning over and giving my ass a slap before grinning and heading to our master bathroom. Eager to cum, I try and be quick about it. I pull on a robe and tie it around myself, making sure my cock is held against my stomach as I head downstairs and answer the door. “Hey,” I say, running my fingers through my hair and letting him in. Dylan looks me up and down with a slight grin before stepping in side. “You okay?” “Yeah, why?” “You’re all flustered and half-dressed.” “I just didn’t expect you to get here so early.” “I told you I’m free after 3:30, Mr. Fletcher,” he teases, smiling cheekily before setting his bag down. “Right.” I clear my throat, closing the door. “Well, Laila’s in the playroom if you wanna see her. We’ll be down in a minute.” “Mhm. Have fun,” he adds in a playfully knowing tone before heading down the hallway. I start to head up the stairs, but I stop when I hear Laila squeal “Dylan!” in an excited voice, followed by some laughter. That makes me smile. Everybody seems to like this kid. Jared and I finish each other off in the shower before cleaning ourselves up and getting dressed. When we come downstairs, Laila and Dylan are in the living room chatting and working on a coloring book and cracking jokes. Dylan catches my eye and smiles, and I smile back, biting my lip slightly. “You two look smart,” he says. We’re wearing near-matching outfits: black slacks, grey suspenders, white-ish button ups, with our black blazers draped over our arms. The only differences are our ties and our footwear. Jared chuckles next to me. “Only because of this guy,” he says, nudging me. “Someone has to pay the bills,” I tease, but kiss him before turning to Dylan. “You good for the night?” “Yes sir,” he says. “Laila and I need time to figure out how we’re gonna take over the world, anyway.” Laila giggles. “Free candy for everyone.” “A presidential slogan that’s sure to win,” I say with a grin, coming over and kissing Laila. “You kids have fun.” Jared gives Laila a hug and a kiss as well before we head out to grab our train. The event is painfully dull — essentially a social session for snobby elitists that work behind major magazines, and I apologize to Jared over and over for bringing him. He seems to be fine, though, sipping champagne and smiling whenever we get roped into conversation. I’m glad he’s here though, since he’s extremely personable and can make any situation a good time, which mostly consists of making fun of everyone else. By the time we finally leave and take the train back home, I’m exhausted, locking my fingers with Jared’s and resting against him. When we get back to the house, we find Dylan and Laila on the couch in the living room with a movie playing on the television. Laila’s fast asleep on his lap. “She’s been out for a few hours, and I didn’t want to move,” Dylan says quietly, smiling slightly. “Adorable,” I say with a small laugh, and Jared bends down to scoop Laila up gently. When he holds her in his arms, she stirs slightly. “Papa?” “I’m here, baby,” he says, rubbing her back and smiling at us. “I’ll get her to bed. Meet me upstairs?” When I nod, Jared turns away, thanking Dylan as he heads upstairs to tuck Laila in. “How was she?” I ask, taking off my suit jacket. “She’s a dream,” he says, sticking his legs out to stretch them. I see him eyeing me as I pull out my wallet, and after a moment, I see him just staring at my bulge. I snap my fingers. “Hey. Eyes up here, kid,” I say, grinning and pointing to my face. He just laughs. “Just admiring the outfit.” He runs his fingers through his hair. “Love the suspenders. Vintage. Classic.” “Gonna call me old or something?” “I was gonna call you sexy,” he says with a grin. “Old too, though.” I just smile slightly, pulling out a few bills. I count, and then sigh. “Shit. I only have two hundred.” “That’s okay.” “No it’s not,” I say, handing him those bills and then heading into the kitchen. I open one of the drawers — our reserve drawer for tips and such — and pull out extra money gölcük escort to cover the balance, handing it over to Dylan. “There ya go.” He just laughs. “You guys are killing me.” “Well you need the money, don’t you?” I say with a smile. “How’s your mom doing, by the way?” He shrugs, pocketing the money. “She’s okay. Nervous for surgery.” “When is it?” “Not for a few weeks.” “Well if you need anything, just let me or Jared know.” He smiles. “Really?” “Of course.” He looks at me for a bit before biting his lip. “Well, I do need something. Advice.” I cock an eyebrow. “On?” “I may or may not have gotten an internship at this little magazine? Vice? Ever heard of it?” I laugh, patting his arm. “Hey! Congrats, kid. Though I figured you’d get in.” He blushes and smiles. “Thanks.” “When do you start?” “Sometime next week. I have to figure out details, work around my school schedule, all that. Which I can manage. But I don’t know what I, like, need to wear.” He pokes my chest. “That’s where you come in.” “It really depends on you. Most people wear kind of what they want, as long as they look presentable.” “Which means…?” “Nice jeans, at the very least. Button-ups are preferred, or sweaters, or something along those lines. Not everyone does it, but it’s encouraged.” “Okay. I think I can manage that then. Long as I don’t have to wear a suit.” “Why? You’d look good in a suit,” I say, smirking. “Well I know that,” he says, laughing. “I just don’t have one.” “Really?” “They’re expensive.” He plucks one of my suspenders for emphasis. “Well, you’ll need at least one suit. Every guy kinda needs one.” I bite my lip a bit, thinking for a moment. “What are you doing this weekend?” He shrugs. “Probably just seeing some friends. Homework. The usual. Why?” “We’re gonna get you a suit. A proper one.” His eyes go wide. “Seriously?” “Yeah. My treat.” I smile. “Milo…” “Just say yes. My gift to you, for getting the internship.” He bites his lip, clearly trying not to smile too much. “Yes, then.” We look at each other for a while, both of us breaking eye contact often to let our eyes wander over the other. It becomes intense. At least for me, it feels like a challenge. Who’s going to cave first? Who’s going to make the first move? The energy between us speaks to nothing but desire. That much is painfully evident. Dylan is the one to break the silence. “So I should probably get a cab or something.” But he doesn’t move to grab his phone or anything. Just stands there and smiles at me. “Yeah,” I say softly, licking my lips. I’m getting antsy now. He grins a little more. “Or…” Then he pauses. I wait, but he doesn’t continue. “Or?” He just shrugs. I hate this kid. My body wants him so badly. And that antsy feeling, it’s growing. This has passed flirtations. Now it’s something more carnal. I need to fuck. I need to fuck him. And soon, without doing much of anything, he wears my inhibitions down to the nub. I lean forward fast and he, as if expecting me to do so, meets me almost halfway. Within an instant, arms are wrapped around each other, gripping and scratching as we grind while we kiss. It’s deep, passionate, and wild. His tongue reaches past my lips and slides purposefully against mine. The way he moves it reminds me of how his tongue felt around my cock that night. I need that again. He breaks the kiss and breathes heavily as he starts to hurriedly undo the buttons on my shirt. I slip the suspenders off and start working on my belt, quickly pulling it off completely and tossing it onto the island, kissing him again as his fingers finish my shirt off. Once he gets it completely open, revealing the tank top underneath, his hands slide right into my pants and grip my bulge through my boxer briefs. I moan against his lips, and I even feel him smiling. “Do you want me to?” he asks, being vague on purpose. But I know. I nod. “Yeah,” I say breathily. He just smiles before getting to his knees and opening my pants a little more. He nuzzles his face into my crotch a little before lapping at my underwear and then sucking on my shaft through the fabric. It’s dripping wet now, and, as he slides up to the tip, I’m sure he can taste my precum through my boxer briefs. He moans a little before finally reaching up, hooking his fingers into the waistband, and pulling it down slowly. My cock swings out, hitting him in the face, and we both laugh. But my laughter quickly turns to moans as he wastes no time in getting his mouth on my dick. I swear under my breath, watching him bob back and forth, taking me deep with every stride. The head of my cock hits the back of his throat hard every time he goes down, making my balls twitch. I grip his hair and pull him off before getting him back to his feet, and he kisses me immediately, tongue-first, letting me taste myself. I slide my hands down his back before gripping his ass, and my cock throbs at the feeling. It’s so thick and soft. I slide my hand into his sweatpants and right into his underwear, grabbing a cheek firmly. He moans against my mouth, pushing back against my hand. God, this kid has such a juicy fucking ass. I shake it in my hand, moving my other hand into his pants as well to grab the other cheek. I feel him up, grab and squeeze, and even slide a couple fingers between them to touch his hole. He moans at that. Now it’s my turn to smile against his lips. “Do you want me to?” I ask, teasing him with his own words while my index finger pets his hole. He laughs through a little moan, biting his lip. “Hell yeah.” I lick my lips and then turn him so that I can bend him over the island slightly. I kiss his neck as I reach around, slipping my hands between his legs to grope at his crotch before I get down behind him. Eager, I pull down his sweats and underwear to expose his ass, and am treated to the most beautiful sight. It’s so perfectly shaped, so thick, so delicious-looking. I’m thankful he’s got meat on him in the right places. I grip it and watch it jiggle in response to my touch before my mouth starts to water. I spread his cheeks and rub my thumb against his hole before diving in. He gasps slightly, standing on his tip-toes as my tongue laps at him hungrily. I can’t hold back now. I give him long swipes of my tongue, feeling the ring twitch against me. He’s so fucking wet after two minutes. The noises I’m making are porn-worthy. He opens up for me, and my tongue slips in, gently probing back and forth. When he lets out a louder moan, I pull back, biting my lip as I stand up and kiss his neck. “Not so loud,” I say, grinding my cock against his ass. But he only has one response: “Fuck me.” I’m already dizzy from getting so lost in that rimjob. The thought of being inside him makes all the blood rush from my brain to my cock. “We shouldn’t,” I hear myself saying. Of course, that’s not at all how I feel. In this moment, I couldn’t care less about Jared. “We definitely fucking should,” Dylan says, turning his head. He kisses me deeply, and I moan against his lips as I feel his fingers curl around my member. He strokes me, and I’m so distracted by his lips and hands and his ass grinding against me that I don’t realize what he’s doing until the head of my cock sinks into him. We both moan, and he keeps a firm grip on the base of my cock as he pushes against me, making me slide in deeper. “Wait,” I say, gripping his shirt. “Dylan–” I’m not wearing a condom. But he ignores me, keeping a firm grasp on my dick as he fucks himself back and forth. I could easily overpower him, but I don’t stop him for a while. I let him work the top half of my cock for half a minute before I pull his hand away, lube up my cock at least a little with some spit, and then thrust deep into him. He cries out in surprise, but I cover his mouth before the moan escapes him. I grunt, working my hips back and forth. He reaches back and grips my hip while moaning against my palm, and when I let go of his mouth to focus on his ass, he’s good enough to keep quiet. I lean back a bit, watching my cock disappear into him over and over, loving how his cheeks press against my hips as I sink in deep. I push down on the small of his back to make him arch more, which makes it easier for him to take it. My eyes roll from how good he feels inside. Warm, silky, inviting — the latter of which is emphasized by how much he’s thrusting back against me. He wants this. He wants this bad. I pull out of him sharply and turn him around, lifting his legs up and hooking them under my arms. He holds himself up on the edge of the island. It’s a little awkward, considering he still has his sweatpants on, but I need to be inside him, and I want to see his face when I am. I thrust back in. He clenches his eyes shut and bites his lip before he starts to relax a little more, his mouth slightly open, clearly trying to hold back most of his noises. Watching his face switch through all the different expressions (pain, maybe a little confusion, but mostly pleasure) drives me crazy, and it doesn’t take long in this position for me to get close. I tell him. “Cum in me,” he says, looking at me hard. “Seriously?” I pant. “Just do it.” I bite my lip but comply, not even really thinking about it much. Cum in him? Happily. I grip his legs tight as I thrust harder, clenching my teeth as I get closer and closer until finally, I breed him. I stop thrusting, just holding still and feeling my cock twitch and throb as I unload inside his warm hole. “Fuuuck,” I groan, grinding slightly as I finish off, catching my breath. I have to blink a few times. I was clenching my eyes so tightly that I’m seeing stars a little bit. I need water. I must be standing in that position for a while because Dylan speaks up. “Can you let me down now? My arms are getting sore.” “Oh. Right. Sorry,” I say, laughing. I pull out of him and set him down gently, both of us grunting a bit before we get our bearings. He starts to pull up his sweats, but I grab his cock before he can get fully decent. He grins at me. “What?” “You’re still hard.” “Are you offering to fix that?” he says with a laugh. “I might be.” I stroke him slowly, looking down as I feel him out. He fits nicely in my grip. “That’ll be $100.” I blink, looking at him. For a split second, I actually think he’s serious, and when I look at him with a confused expression, he just laughs. “I’m kidding. Relax.” I chuckle a little. “Good, because that’s pretty cheap and you could do better.” I get down on my knees in front of him and hold his cock up, studying it. I rub it with my thumb, using my other hand to fondle his balls or run my fingers over his soft, trimmed patch of pubes, exploring. He has such a pretty cock. I don’t think I’ve ever described someone’s dick that way, but his is just pretty. Thick, shapely — just like the rest of him. “You gonna look all night, or…?” “I’m getting to it,” I say with a laugh, looking up at him as I kiss his shaft. He inhales a bit, and I nuzzle my face against his crotch, tickling him with my facial hair for sure. Then I stick out my tongue and taste him. He tastes like warmth, somehow. And when I get to the head, I can taste the sweetness of his precum. I guide him deep into my mouth before wrapping my lips around his shaft and start sucking, feeling his hands in my hair encouraging me. I suck him slowly but deeply, and his hips push against my face probably involuntarily, but I don’t mind. I’m focused on him and him alone right now. Though I do absolutely love how he feels in my mouth. Something about how much his cock throbs as if begging for attention. After maybe a minute or so, Dylan says “Oh my God” a few times before I realize he’s cumming. And that’s only because I get a flood of his load in my mouth. I chuckle slightly around his cock before swallowing it down, sucking on the head of his cock to get every drop. “Fucking Christ,” he whispers, and I laugh again, his cock falling from my lips. “You okay there?” I ask, looking up at him as I pull his sweats up for him. “Yeah, just… Wow, I came fast.” He’s blushing. “It’s alright,” I say, standing up and kissing him a couple times. Then a couple more. Then a few deep, tongue-filled ones, tasting each other as we kiss. Eventually he pushes me away. “You know it’s a school night, right?” I laugh. “Sorry.” I give his ass a little grab before stepping back and trying to fix myself up, readjusting all my clothes. Dylan bites his lip as he looks at me before sighing and gathering his things, making sure he has all his stuff. I walk him to the door after calling a cab for him, opening it as we stand in the doorway. “This was fun,” he says with a laugh, reaching up to fix my hair for me. I smile at him, sighing through my nose. “You’re gonna get me in trouble, kid,” I say with a laugh. “Little ol’ me?” he says with a smug little grin, reaching forward and pulling my zipper up for me. “Never.”

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