He was fit and tight.
Infantry, I thought.
It was 1955.
Miz Connie's was a boarding house. Detroit. Autoworkers, most of us.
He came in a cab. From the railway station. "Just this suitcase. Gotta room?"
She put him in a room off the foyer. Private.
Most of us stay in the what we call the barracks bunks twelve men loud and public.
He paid his money. Private room. Clean sheets.
I paid a visit. He was laying on his bed. Still had on those drab brown Army drawers.
I sat down on the foot of the bed. Fished out a smoke. Lit up.
"Army?" I said. Offered him a Newport. He took.
Damn, he's fine. Even wearing those brown drawers.
"Yeah." His eyes are dreamy. Look me up and down.
We smoke. Pretend we ain't checking each other out.
"Naw. Berlin. Three years. Intelligence."
I nod. He extinguishes his cigarette.
"God it's hot. Thought I left the heat down there in Georgia." He puts his arm up over his head. Staring at the ceiling.
"Yeah," I say. Take a drag on my cigarette.
"Well." I crush my butt next to his in the ashtray.
"Detroit," I say. "Motor city."
"Yeah," he replies. "I guess I gotta find myself a job."
"Or a pimp."
"Nothing. Just nothing." My hand on his thigh, just above his knee. He spreads his legs.
"A job." His voice is quieter now. He don't remove my hand. Slide it up a few more inches. He moans.
"You experienced? Ever done this?"
"What?" I tickle just inside those starchy drawers. "No. I'm not. I mean."
"Don't mean a thing," I say. I allow him to contemplate. I got time.
I withdraw my hand. His legs stay spread. I pull out my pouch and roll a joint.
"Ever done this?" I lick the edge of the wrapper, roll it tight, light up with my Zippo. Mmmm. Take the smoke deep. So nice.
He still lay there, legs spread.
"I don't know what..."
Shush I say just do it. Night not so dark no more just floating.
He reaches takes the joint touches my fingers puts it to his pretty lips
Coughs, splutters. "Hell, this ain't no cigarette!" Loud.
Baby, calm down. It's alright. I thought you knew. My hand is now all up his thigh, inside those brown boxers. Marijuana, baby, help you relax. His legs still spread, his little cock pink poking, peeking through the slit.
"Okay, yeah, okay." He wants to play it cool. No reaction to my hand rubbing all up against his thigh. His little boy cock so cute, so hard, inviting.
He smokes the joint, inhales. "Hold it," I whisper, fingering his balls.
I see his eyes. He's stoned. Focused on a dream a million miles away. I take his little cock in my mouth. He moans. He knows the drill.
"What the fuck?" But he don't move to stop, don't pull away.
"You done this before, baby?"
"No. God no. I ain't queer. What...what's happening."
"That's it sweetie. Just happening. Just let it happen."
He's still laying there on the bed, legs spread. He takes another toke. "Oh," he says. "Oh, this is nice."
I feel behind his balls. He lifts his ass a little, moans. I touch his hole. "Oh," he says and smiles at me. "Oh, that's nice." And giggles. He's so cute.
I stand up, drop my pants, my cock springs forth.
"Smoke on this, sugar," I hear myself say, and he willingly opens his mouth and engulfs my manhood.
"Mmmmm, mmmmm, mmmmm," he says, swallowing my cock. His nose is in my pubes. It's foggy, dream-like. White boy eating my cock. Roach in the ashtray. So nice.
I pull his head unwillingly off my shit. "Slow down, baby." We both giggling. He raise up and kiss me on the lips. "You're so fine," he says and cups my balls. His hand is...what...petite. And my big hairy balls. I'm laughing and I don't know why. But he. He raise up again and kiss me on the lips.
He slips out his drawers, he naked, like the day he born. So pretty. Such a pretty whiteboy. Naked like the day he born.
"Take off your clothes," he whispers. "Come into bed with me." He raise up, kiss me on the lips. I taste sex, desire on his tongue.
"I think," I say I make a resolution get my pouch, "I think I roll another joint."
He giggles. Grabs my balls, gives my erect cock a couple strokes. "Yeppers." He licks my nipple, burrows his face into my pit. "I think the situation calls for another." Seems to lose his train of thought. Gives my cock a languid stroke. "Yes." Giggle. "Definitely yessur." His naked whiteboy body all up against mine, his nose in my pit, tongue licking out the sweat. Moaning like a bitch. It's hot.
"I got to roll this, sugar. Hold off a minute."
Damn, he slide down to my cock. Lick my balls. Well, he do that, I still can roll. Aww, damn!
I light up, take a drag. Pull up his reluctant head from my throbbing dick and give him a toke. He's shitless in the wind. Starts sucking me again. I lean back on the pillow, smoke, enjoy the moment.
He comes up for air. "I love your cock," he says and lays his pretty whiteboy head upon my breast. I can smell him. He smells good. He smells...I laugh out loud...he nuzzles my nipple in a desultory way...he smells like a pretty whiteboy. I laugh out loud like a man.
"Is this what faggots do?" he asks. I thought he fell asleep, nursing like a baby on my nipple.
"What?" I'm still not sure...things...foggy.
"Faggot, faggot, faggot, faggot, queer," he says. "Oh, yes. So nice." He is asleep, it seems. Talking in his...dreaming. His petite hand cupped around my balls. Oh, yes. So nice. I kiss the crown of his head resting on my chest and sigh. And drift.
"Damn, boy. Where you get them lips?" I come awake suddenly, boy down there Hoovering my dick, suck so good it hurts. I'm in his bed. Yes, I remember. He on all four, prettyboy ass up, face all down in my crotch. Damn. Suck my dick so good it hurts. And that ass.
Wiggling that cute ass. Naked cute whiteboy ass. Claim it's virgin. I don't know. I mean. So cute. So smooth. And he suck so good.
Aaagh. Aaagh. Yes. Aagh. Yes. Ah. Yes. Okay. Yes. Well, now he have a bellyful, just like he wanted I guess or he wouldn't have wrapped those pretty lips around my cock now huh. He raise up smile and kiss me and I taste me on his tongue.
He stretch and show his little pink hard.
"Good morning. That was great. Thank you. I never knew...sex...well, that was great."
He stroll across the room, pick up a comb, preen a bit I think, push out his butt, and start to comb his hair.
"Definitely yessur." He say seemingly to hisself, turn his head, glance at me over his shoulder, puffy pouty lips and plump pretty whiteboy ass. Damn.