Chapter 1
Dan Griffith first noticed the handsome young military cadet as he waited in the lounge to board the jumbo jet for a much needed vacation flight home to Tulsa. The kid was only about fifteen but built like a brick shithouse. Dan admired the hunky lad from across the crowded room at Kennedy International, grooving on his bulging crotch, but there was no way for him to change seats and move closer.
He beamed when, after taking his seat in the spacious plane, he looked up to see the cadet standing beside him, hesitant to crawl over his long legs to the seat next to him, the seat the gods had assigned to him, Dan thought later.
Dan grinned and pulled his legs back, and as the young man slipped past to take the window seat, he got a good view of the heavy hanging, clearly outlined cock beneath the tight khaki uniform.
The boy sat down and immediately began playing with the air conditioning control, the dials that operated the stereo, the foldup table and even the seat belt that he strapped snuggly around his middle in such a way as to even more accent the incredible bulge that seemed to strain under the thin material.
Soon the plane was airborne and the stewardess taking orders for cocktails. Dan chuckled with the stewardess as the boy tried to convince her that he was old enough for liquor, but she was firm and he had to settle for a soft drink.
When Dan's alloted two miniatures arrived, he opened one and poured half into his glass, then slipped the rest into the boy's Coke.
"Gee, thanks," he said, smiling invitingly. "I need that."
"Your first flight?" Dan asked, thinking the cadet might be nervous about flying.
"Hell no, I'm just going back to that goddamned military school," the boy answered as he took a sip of his drink.
"Not much fun, eh?" Dan sympathized.
"I hate it, I really do. But my old man insists. It's punisliment for what they caught meIt's punisliment because he hates me," the boy said.
"Sounds like you've had some problems." Dan's mouth was practically watering from just looking at the kid's almost-hidden cock and balls.
"Yeah," he answered.
"Girl trouble?"
"No, IThey caught me with . . . "
"Boy trouble?" Dan suggested softly.
The cadet, a handsome blond, turned furiously pink, but finally nodded slightly.
"It happens to everybody at one time or another," Dan said, trying to soothe the horny youngster.
"Yeah, but did you ever get caught?"
"No. I was lucky, I guess."
"Well, I wasn't. Ricky and I were-we were in the locker room playing around when the coach caught us. The sonofabitch turned us in to the principal, and he called my old man.
"Tough luck."
"Yeah, and when my old man heard about it the shit really hit the fan. Hell, he didn't have to explode like that and send me off to that damned military school. They know what I did so they watch me like a hawk."
"Sounds like you enjoyed what you were doing with Ricky."
"Hell, yes. Ricky and I-we did things together all the time."
"But you have to admit a locker room isn't the best place to get it on."
"Yeah, I guess you're right, but I was horny as hell, and he used to give the best blow-jobs I've ever had."
"So you just couldn't wait."
The cadet nodded.
Dan looked down and saw that the boy's ample basket was bulging even more under the confining trousers, the clear outline of his long cock seeming to stretch out a bit more and throb regularly.
"Looks like you're ready for relief right now."
"Just thinking about Ricky makes me horny. Know what I mean?"
"Of course."
The cadet's knee rubbed against Dan's leg suggestively, and the boy glanced furtively around. "I sure wish I could get a job on it now."
"But the stewardess will be around with lunch any minute," Dan said softly.
"Yeah, damn it." The boy rubbed his crotch familiarly, then tried to arrange his throbbing cock in its confining jail so it was more confortable.
"Hell, I gotta go to the head," he muttered finally. He got up and Dan saw that the bulge of his cock was even more pronounced as the boy slid past him, leaning in so he almost rubbed his prick against Dan's face, and walked up the aisle to the restrooms dividing the firstand. tourist-class cabins.
Dan watched as the boy opened the door, then glanced around invitingly, cupping his crotch, at Dan before slipping inside. His heart pounded as he pondered the possibility of following the boy. It was risky, but a risk he desperately wanted to take. He looked around and saw that all the stewardesses were busy in the small galley.
He slowly got to his feet and strolled casually up the aisle to the restrooms. He smiled as he reached the cubicle occupied by the boy-the door was closed but not locked. Gingerly he opened the door slightly and peered inside.
The cadet was sitting on the commode, waiting. A pleading look crossed his face as soon as he saw thatjt was Dan.
"Come in," he whispered plaintively.
Glancing around and seeing that the other passengers were paying little if any attention, Dan slipped inside the tiny cubicle with the kid and closed the door. He carefully locked it, then turned around as the cadet stood up.
His trousers were down around his ankles already and his throbbing cock stood straight out from the thatch of golden curls.
Dan reached out and gripped the heavy seven-inch weapon and slowly stroked it. The cadet moaned with delight as he did, then inched around so that Dan could sit down.
"Suck it," the boy pleaded, and Dan obligingly leaned forward and allowed just the pink tip of the kid's fresh-looking boy cock to slip between his lips. He caressed the hard head with his tongue, then let it glide into his throat as the boy began mouth-fucking slowly and then faster and faster.
The boy gripped Dan's head as he began to pummel his mouth with his feverish prick and he moaned in delight.
"Oh, that's so good, so good," he whispered. "Take it all, suck all of my cock in." He began frantically fucking and soon Dan could feel the thick weapon start to convulse.
"I'm cumming-I'm cumming. Take it!" the cadet cried out as his cock shuddered and spewed forth a heavy load of thick, sticky boyfuck cream.
Dan swallowed the little boy's cum frantically, for the copious jetting filled his mouth as it spurted from the throbbing cock.
Finally the last of the cum stream was swallowed and as the boy's cock began to soften, he slowly withdrew it. He reached for a towel and wiped it dry, then struggled to pull up his brief shorts and trousers.
Dan also stood, and the boy leaned forward and kissed him passionately on the mouth, tasting his own cock and still warm cum as he did.
"That was great," the cadet whispered. "Even better than Ricky." Then the youth turned to unlock the door. "I'll go first," he whispered. "Maybe you better stay here a minute or so."
Dan nodded and pressed himself against the wall so that he wouldn't be seen as the boy left. Immediately after, he locked the door again, then loosened his own trousers and pulled out his aching cock.
Dreaming of how it would feel to plow the cadet's firm young ass, he fondled his cock and brought it to a rapid, thundering climax, regretting that the kid hadn't wanted to suck him off too, He splashed his cream into the basin, then washed the evidence away.
Finally he opened the door and walked back to his seat.
The cadet was silent for some time as they ate lunch, but when the meal was over he leaned back to relax and they chatted casually for some time.
Finally, as the plane was nearing Tulsa, the boy pulled out a notebook and scribbled something on it. He handed the slip of paper to Dan.
"This is the number at school. I can get a weekend pass. Maybe we could get together. I love sex, and your hot mouth is the greatest," he whispered.
Dan took the paper and tucked it away. "I'll see what I can do. I've got a hot cock, too."
"Yeah, maybe I'll even let you stick it up my ass," the boy whispered, "if you'll let me plug yours."
"You've got a deal," Dan said and grinned.
The plane was coming in for a landing, so they had to break off their conversation. Dan knew he would have to find a way to get away from his friends and get together with the boy again.
Dan had no time to say more than a quick farewell to the cadet as they deplaned, for there was a crowd of friends plus reporters from television and the local newspapers eager for a few comments from Dan concerning his first, surprise best-selling novel and the upcoming Broadway adaptation.
Then came dinner with several close friends and, by the time he got back to his hotel, he was exhausted and fell asleep immediately.
He ate breakfast alone in the hotel coffee shop, enjoying the solitude as he read the morning paper's combined interview and review of his book.
Another William Faulkner-that is Daniel G. Griffith, the critic bubbled, and soon his great novel will live on the Broadway stage. It should be a big fat hit.. . .
Dan chuckled at that comment. Not all the critics back East had been so kind; yet it was high praise for the reviewer he remembered was not one to gushingly praise everything, even though he worked in a tradition-bound community that wanted its critics to like every little thing done by local artists, no matter how pedestrian the work might be.
The article boosted sales and insured a crowd of babbling middle-aged matrons who came to that afternoon's autograph party to sip punch and nibble on cookies, meet the author and giggle over the latest naughty joke told by the rotund little bookstore owner who was a delight even if Dan was soon pushed into agreeing to visit the owner's spiritualist friend who promised all manner of pleasures during his vacation. Could she have known about the cadet whose delicious cock he had sucked? Dan wondered.
Dan was exhausted from the babble of the autograph party and his visit to the spiritualist, yet he felt compelled to shower and attend a theater cast party since it was an event being held in his honor after the evening's community theater production.
The party was similar to many of the dull affairs he had attended in New York, overflowing with the same theatrical hangers-on even though the community theater did have a few retired professionals to bolster its reputation and add a touch of class to its productions. Everyone had read his book and some blushed over the very frank sexual passages, but all were eager to talk about the upcoming dramatic adaptation.
There was more than one not-so-subtle hint from various butcher-turned-actor types who dreamed of leaving amateur theater for the "real" theater, and just "knew" this or that role was based on his own experiences. More than one hinted that he was the character Dan had depicted. After all, hadn't they grown up together, and didn't exactly the same thing happen back in the winter of nineteen sixty or was it 'sixty one?'
Dan saw the young stud almost as soon as he entered the living room of the director's large home where the party was being held. The youngster was a standout-tall, lithe, almost painfully thin. His shiny bronzed hair, long and gracefully wavy, was a nice complement to the camelhair jacket worn with skin-tight bells and glistening loafers. His skin was fair, with a rosy hue in his still downy cheeks, and his blue eyes were wide-set and probing.
Dan nodded and smiled, then waited while the boy fumbled with the ice tongs.
"There must be a better way to do it," the stud said quietly.
"Fingers are always handy," Dan said and chuckled.
The lad grinned, looked around impishly and quickly dipped a long tapered hand into the ice bucket, coming up with a fist full to fill his glass and Dan's as well.
Dan poured two Cokes, then with a sly wink and a glance around to see that they were not being observed, tipped a liquor bottle into the boy's glass, then into his own.
They strolled to a corner in the adjoining empty den and dropped into easy chairs. It had seemed so natural to meet so casually even though they had not formally met.
They chatted several moments before the young angel paused, then grinned.
"By the way, my name's Phil-actually it's Philip Michael Decker, but I'm only called that when Mom's really after me. Just call me Phil."
Dan smiled and raised his glass slightly.
"To Philip Michael Decker, better known as Phil, long life and success in whatever he desires." He took a quick sip. "And what DO you desire in life?"
Phil leaned back and thought about the question.
"I'm interested in just about everything concerned with the theater. Technical work backstage is the most fun, though. It's a challenge, expecially when the light and sound equipment we have at the theater starts acting up, which is just about every other night. We've managed to come up with some really groovy effects, some the director didn't even think we can do. That's what makes it so much fun."
Phil continued, asking a few questions about Dan's writing, but avoiding the repetitious, stale questions that Dan had faced all evening, as if he realized that Dan was tired of talking about the book and the upcoming dramatic adaptation.
The author soon found himself listening to a soliloquy of Phil's myriad interests. Dan had found over the years that all too many people, when talking of their own interests quickly turned into bores, but he was intrigued by the ease with which the boy discussed the theater, the amusing incidents that occurred in the few short seasons the stage had attracted him, his ambitions.
"I played a piano in a bar scene in a musical when I was eleven," Phil was saying. "Imagine, they had me dressed as a grownup. Of course I never turned my head toward the audience. Damn, was it great fun."
Dan found himself forgetting the fascinating creature before him was hardly more than a boy, someone to be treated as such and certainly not the object of more than casual interest. For the conversation was that of an adult.
Granted, there were signs of yet-to-mature ideas, of sudden outbursts of impatience with older companions not accustomed to such talent in one so young. It must be hell to be mediocre and forty and then have to work with a genius of sixteen, especially one so abrupt with his criticism, Dan mused.
Such a young man could go far, or he could drown in his own talent if not properly guided, Dan thought.
From the way Phil casually mentioned his parents' willingness to let him chart his own course, it was apparent to Dan that they realized the lad's talents in the theater, but did not know fully how to cope with his brasliness-or were content to let him plow roughshot over others because of his outstanding ability. What he and so many other exceptional young talents needed, Dan realized, was a guiding hand from an older person not hindered by family ties, someone to set a good example and thus help the youth blossom without the faults that easily could become impossible to correct, even more impossible for others to bear.
Phil needed someone who could guide him just as Stephen had done for him, Dan mused. He had been a stumbling youth trying to write the ail-American novel at eighteen when he met Steve. They had become inseparable for nearly three years as Dan grew to maturity, gradually changing so that Steve's favorite term of endearment-Little One-had gradually become outmoded and dropped.
Now Stephen was a guiding light for another young man, this time a hopeful dancer-actor studying at the small college where Stephen as a professor had become acquainted with Dan. At the same time Stephen now was the proud father of a nineteen-month-old son, who doubtless would benefit greatly from the understanding his father could provide," an understanding that a boy needs to receive from a friend as much as a father. As Dan knew, a boy can talk with a friend of many things he is hesitant to discuss with his father, no matter how understanding the father tries to be.
Now this Little One, as Dan mentally christened Phil, was leaning back in his chair, his long thin hands aflutter as he related another backstage anecdote. His right leg was casually across his left knee, and as Dan glanced down he saw an obvious bulge of the boy's cock almost tauntingly, temptingly on display.
The great interest in the arts, the carefully tousled hair dipping over his forehead, the expertly selected clothing, that flutter and too obvious bulge-this was an innocent youngster?
Dan shuddered as thoughts raced through his head. His mouth was dry as he tried to think of something else, anything else but what the indications measured up to as he studied the boy.
For innocent or not, Philip Michael Decker, as the lad had so impishly rattled off his name, was still little more than a boy, not someone for a responsible adult to meddle with, no matter how great the desire, how noble the motive to help might be.
Philip Michael-even the name was somewhat theatrical, Dan reflected. No need for him to dream up some stage name like so many young hopefuls did when they flocked to New York. Phil would not have to train himself to answer to such a name as Garth or Damon or Greg or Jere or any of the other so obviously fake names the would-be stars adopted.
Dan returned his gaze to Phil, and mentally made a decision. Here was a person to be known, to be enjoyed, even if sex was never involved. Should they be seen together in public during his vacation, Little One would rate envious glances from others who admired hansome young men, yet Dan knew the boy could be trusted not to offend the unknowing either by action or comment.
It seemed impossible that Phil was not quite sexually experienced, or at least aware of the shadowy world of what Dan laughingly called the "theatrical sex." Yet Dan immediately realized that Phil was un-like the common hustlers or queens who had not the sense or the tact to remain calm in a potentially dangerous situation. Those common queens were only interested in drinking and fucking, and were quick to sneer at the more pleasurable moments friends could spend at the theater, a concert, even a leisurely stroll through a park.
And, should Phil shun a sexual involvement, there could be much more in such a friendship, and Dan was eager enough to know this fascinating young man better to forego sex should Phil reject it.
It was quite logical that he befriend the young man during his free moments of his vacation, Dan reflected. For perhaps later he could open doors to places of interest to the lad, help him gain knowledge as he pursued what could be a successful career in some phase of technical theater.
And it was quite possible . . . Dan glanced down at that ample box once more. The definite bulge of a rather large cock and heavy balls, so noticeable yet apparently so taken for granted, remained tantalizingly obvious.
All this was a longing, mere speculation, Dan reminded himself. They might never meet again. He would soon have to return to New York and he knew that youngsters soon forget friends if they are long separated.
Phil seemed to sense the end of the party and finally lapsed into silence.
"Can I give you a lift home?" Dan asked when it was obvious that most others were leaving the party.
The youngster smiled and nodded. They talked little on the drive through the dark, nearly deserted streets after Phil had laughed when
Dan admitted that the car the youth had admired was a rental car. Each was wrapped up in his own thoughts, yet it was a comfortable, satisfying silence as if they had known each other for years rather than a brief evening.
As they pulled to a stop in front of the house Phil pointed out, Dan turned and, with a hand resting almost unnoticed on the lad's knee, softly commented, "It's been a pleasant evening. Will I see you again? Maybe we can take in a movie, or have dinner and talk theater some more."
Little One nodded, then furrowed his brow. "I'll be tied up at school and the theater all this week, but how about Sunday? Maybe you'd like to come over and we could listen to records, then go out for something to eat."
Dan agreed, and Little One silently got out and almost skipped up the sidewalk to the porch, but it was not an escape, for he turned at the steps and waved a friendly good-bye.
Little One's youthful exuberance made Dan feel suddenly surprisingly old, even though it had been less than ten years since he too had bubbled with similar enthusiasm, his: for a career in writing. He chuckled as he wondered if Stephen--likewise had felt like an old man even though at that time he had been no older than Dan's present twenty-six years. Dan had been content to turn to newspaper features for some while, but through the encouragement of Stephen he had continued to struggle for time for serious fiction writing even when faced with rejection slip after rejection slip when his novel was ignored for more than a year before it was accepted by one of the smaller publishing houses which had waged an active campaign that turned it into a success.
In a way Dan felt much younger again, for the brief visit with Phil had been so pleasant. He had but two weeks of vacation at the very most; there could be little harm in carefully nurturing the friendship. Perhaps before Sunday he could investigate Little One's background. The shadowy world had a gossipy grapevine from which no one's affairs were ever completely secret. If Phil had been seen with anyone or given any sign of perferring the company of boys and men to women, there doubtless would be some knowledge of it, Dan knew.
On the way back to the hotel Dan drove down Main Street for a bite to eat. The crowds chased at last from the bars had taken the parking spaces near the lone all-night cafe downtown, and he had to park more than a block away.
He waited on the corner for the light to change, even though there was no traffic, for he knew the local police were prompt in warning visiting jaywalkers that, "This ain't New York, we obey the law down here." Dan glanced across the street and saw a shadowed figure lounging against a building on the opposite corner-the corner long known as a pickup point.
As he crossed the street Dan saw that the figure was a young man barely in his twenties, dressed in the uniform of the young gay on the prowl-tight, revealing slacks and bright shirt. The boy unblinkingly returned Dan's glance, then nodded ever so slightly, as if in invitation to stop and chat. Dan grinned and paused, as he knew the boy had predicted he would.
They talked for a moment, and Dan invited him to have coffee.
" During the cafe . . conversation Dan decided that the boy was safe enough, he was going to college and hadn't found anybody he was interested in at the bars. He was quite willing, even eager to come to Dan's hotel room. And, he added, he knew the night desk clerk so there would be no questions asked about his going to the room so late.
Dan paid the bill and they walked back to the car, then drove the few blocks to the hotel. Even though he had taken someone to his room on many occasions, Dan still was nervous as they entered the lobby. The young man, who introduced himself as Nick, waved to the desk clerk and stepped into the elevator.
.The boy began shedding clothing as soon as he walked into Dan's room, and was nude by the time he reached the bed. He sprawled on it and watched Dan with anticipation as he--likewise stripped.
Dan's ample cock was hard by the time he dropped his shorts and stretched out beside the husky young man who had admitted to having been a football player in high school. Even his cock was a husky eight inches of fat, hard meat that jumped for joy as Dan's tongue and lips encircled it.
The boy quickly turned so that he could suck in Dan's throbbing weapon and they were content for several minutes to tantalize each other's bone-hard meat.
As Dan's hands caressed the wide but firm buns and then explored the dark crevice between them, Nick moaned and began thrashing about wildly. Finally he pulled away and turned so that Dan's glistening cock was nudging his buns as it sought the entrance to his steaming asshole. When it did, Nick thrust back and the cock quickly glided up the dark tunnel of love as the boy moaned with desire.
They rolled over so the boy was on his stomach and Dan sprawled on his back and began thrusting his rampaging cock deep into the hot tight fuck tunnel.
Aroused as he was from the visit with Phil, it didn't take Dan long to build up a heavy head of steam. He reared up so that he could slam his cock deep into the receptive asshole, his thighs pounding the boy's buns with each frantic thrust.
"Yes, yes, ram your cock in hard," Nick cried as Dan's thrusts grew even rougher. "Oh, God, it's great, shove it to me!"
Dan gasped as he felt his juices rising, and almost viciously pounding the willing ass, he cried out and fired a volley of hot manfuck cream deep in the young man's fluttering asshole.
"Oh, yes! Yes! Give it all to me, baby, give it all to me!" Nick cried out as he felt the cum explosion, and Nick's own cum spurted out under him, soaking into Dan's comfortable bed.
Finally Dan collapsed on the boy's sweating back, gasping for breath.
They lay content for several minutes as Dan's cock slowly softened and finally slid from the cum-filled shit tunnel. At last the boy struggled from beneath Dan and padded off to the bathroom. He soon returned with a damp facecloth and sat down on the edge of the bed and carefully rinsed away the shit-streaked stains of their lovemaking from Dan's still heavy cock.
"That's some pile driver," the boy chuckled. "I haven't had such a good fuck in months. Nobody around here seems to know anything but sucking cock, and that just doesn't turn me on much."
"Your ass was made for fucking," Dan said, returning the compliment.
"I'd love to stay here and take another pounding, but class comes all too early tomorrow," Nick said as he got up and started to dress.
"Can I give you a lift?"
"No, thanks. I've got my car near the cafe. It's a nice night to walk back. From the way you worked me over, you need your rest," he said and grinned.
Nick leaned over and kissed Dan's limp cock, and quickly turned to leave. "See you around. Maybe we can have another romp in the roose," he said as he let himself out of the room.
After the boy had left and Dan lay quietly smoking a cigarette, there was a dull ache in his stomach. It was more of longing rather than of sexual need, since fucking Nick had drained him of any sexual thoughts. But once more the vision of
Little One rose in Dan's mind. That sort of person he could love, and it would be something more than a moment of passion.
They had more in common than mere sexual desire. Possibly a reciprocal affection would grow. Dan was so tired of the occasional tricks he picked up from some dingy bar or shadowy corner-those moments of frantic fucking or cocksucking, of false love with someone he didn't even know.
He desired love as well as sex, and love was more than a pickup. It was sharing interests, knowing one another's most intimate thoughts, desires, dis--likes. There were the simple joys that came with personal jokes, little gifts that meant nothing to anybody else, perhaps even a subtle, fond glance-all of this in addition to whatever physical passion the lovers might share.
Dan had hardly met Phil, yet already he longed for a close friendship, an opportuniy to open doors for the lad who was so eager to learn. Was this wrong? he mused. Little One was old enough to know his own mind; if he wanted more than friendship, it would be his decision. Dan would offer more, but Phil would have to make the decision.