textfiles/sex/EROTICA/T/trade.txt

				Trade




A quickie, in the back room at the arcade.  Near the bathrooms, not
too suspicious, the traffic of kids.  When Rock-o was working, he let
me hang out there, for a percentage, either in tail or coin.  It was
good for his business, better for mine.  I kept the tail for myself
that night, let him skim the cash profit, I had got my nut-juice
bubbling in a major way over this skinny young skate-death kid from
the Jr. High that had gotten into me for some cash, over a bad X
habit.

He'd come around with a ten-spot swiped from his mother's purse.  I
guess it was rough, being too young to work at McD's for drug money, I
dunno, I never worked a straight job.  The kid had spent his allowance
with me last Friday, and the Friday before, and the Friday before
that...  I'd been floating him the random blow-job for a hit here and
there, he had a pretty mouth, big, wet, fuckable red lips like that
"Home Alone" kid, his mouth looked just like really primo twat.  I'd
been giving him an extra hit when he swallowed, at the ripe old age of
thirteen he was turning into a righteous junkie whore.  Without the
drug habit he could've been earning himself a serious income selling
his body.

I guess that was probably what attracted him to the skate-death scene,
being as _pretty_ as he was.  Cut-off t-shirts painted up with skulls
and crosses and sinister looking symbols, giant black combat boots,
baggy ripped up shorts.  And the weird shave-job hairdo, super-long
but hacked off unevenly on the sides and back.

I'm sure he thought he looked threatening.

To old ladies maybe.  

Wiry rope-muscled pencil thin legs sticking out of Doc Martens,
scrawny neck with no sign of an adam's apple, cheeks as soft as a
baby's ass, I could've laughed out loud at most of the little
upper-middle-class pukes that squirreled up to me during business
hours pretending to be hardcore outlaws from the wrong side of the
tracks.  

Outlaws, in their dreams.

In reality, rich brats with $100 imitations of $30 work-boots, $150
boards with custom trucks, custom paint-jobs, gimme a break.  Yeah, I
wanted to laugh, or tell them to go home to their rich Daddies, but it
was bad for business.


"uh, i got a dime c'n you.  uh.  you know..."

The kid was half-wasted, as usual.  Actually, I think he was just not
very bright to start with and the junk he sent through his bloodstream
kept him entertained.  I reached out and palmed the paper, leaned back
on the battered grey metal desk, scratching at what passed for a
goatee at the High School I was enrolled at.  The bill disappeared
down inside my shorts, and the kid shifted a while before he realized
I wasn't coughing anything up.

"uh...  that was a tenner, you know.  You... uh.  Any X?"

"You're into me for 50, that ten just brought you down to 40."


"uh... uhh..." The kid stared at his shoes.  He'd sucked me off for
hits before, and I knew he was wanting one bad now, I hadn't seen him
in a couple days.  "well uh, i could.... uh.... trade?"

I smiled at him, and he started to kneel down in front of me, reach for
my fly.

"Not this time,"  I stared into his uncomprehending eyes.

"You're into me for a lot of cash.  You owe me more than a lousy
blow-job."

The kid blinked.  It took a while for him to figure out what I meant.
I'm not sure he really did.

"You wanna do... something else?"

Christ, thirteen, I woulda thought he'd of known about buggery by
then.  I couldn't _help_ snorting derisively.

"I wanna fuck you in the ass, or I want my 40 bucks."  Chill, stone
cold, I stared right into his dim little soul. 

I was getting a wooder being that close to such a pretty little skate
punk and I was pretty sure he was gonna let me.  I'd never had the
balls to trade tail for dope with any of these little pukes before,
but the very sight of this particular kid was giving my dick mastery
over my business sense.  He blinked a few times as his brain slowly
processed what I was proposing.

"I don't have 40 dollars..."

"Yeah, well..."  I stared him down, openly rubbing my hand along the
outline of the bone growing in my jockeys.  His face turned a splotchy
shade of pink, and he dropped his gaze.

"..yeah, ok i guess"  he mumbled.

"So suck me good and hard, you wanna lube my dick with plenty of spit
so it doesn't hurt so bad when I stick it in there," I advised him.

The kid did like I suggested, he knelt down in front of me and
unzipping my fly he pulled out my half-hard bone and went to work on
it.  He'd sucked me off maybe half-a-dozen times, he was getting
pretty good at it.

I stopped it when I caught myself humping at the kid's face, hunching
my hips up off the battered old desk I was leaning against in the dank
little office, almost out of control.  I pulled his head away from my
crotch, him drooling spit off his lower lip, my cock pointing stiffly
out from my groin dripping saliva and pre-cum.  I made motions for him
to get up.

The kid stood, started self-consciously working at the buttons on his
hacked-off camo fatigues as I got him turned around and facing the
desk as I moved behind him, lowering my own grubby shorts the rest of
the way to let my cock and balls swing free.

The kid was a regular little grunge-meister, filthy shorts around his
ankles, ripped and paint-spattered t-shirt with the sleeves cut off,
three sizes too big, hanging loosely down past his butt, he had the
look down cold. I almost burst out laughing as he awkwardly pulled
down his pristine little white Fruit-Of-The-Looms, his mommy musta
been bleaching and ironing them, they were so snowy white, just like
his little butt-cheeks.

I moved up behind the kid, my cock spearing into the small of his
back.  I grabbed the baby-soft nape of his neck, pushed him forward so
he was bent him over the edge of the desk, pulled his t-shirt up under
his armpits, exposing his scrawny back, his ribs jutting from beneath
pale white skin.  He was really scrawny, small for his age, and short.
His balls were still undeveloped, his dick was short and thin.  He had
only peach-fuzz on his nuts, and oh. god!  He really did have perfect
little round buns.  I'd never fucked ass before, just been sucked off,
but I knew I'd picked me some grade-A prime.

I crouched down, grabbed each of the kid's cheeks really tightly,
pulling them lewdly apart to expose his little brown button to my
drooling dick.  I barely noticed how he tensed up when my hands first
touched his naked ass, I barely noticed how he seemed to shrink even
smaller, folding in on himself, bent over the edge of the desk in that
grimy office, when the head of my cock tapped against his bung-hole.

I pressed the eye of my cock hard against his little pucker, pushed as
hard as I could.  The kid's opening was incredibly tight, and I
slipped off the mark.  I felt the kid tense up again, his body
stiffened beneath me, twitching like he was having some kind of spaz
attack, like my dick was an electric cattle prod or something, I was
sure he was gonna lose it, holler maybe, so I leaned over his back,
licked the side of his neck like he was my damn girlfriend, bit his
ear, feeling him just shudder all over every time I touched him. I
whispered, all hot and sleezy, my mouth right next to his ear, the
words fell across the side of his face as he lay stiff and tense,
shaking like a leaf, his eyes squeezed shut, trying not to cry.

"They might hear us out there," I whispered.  Doubtful, really, unless
the kid lost it and started shrieking bloody murder, he'd have to
bellow awful damn loud to be heard over the computerized roar of the
arcade.  But the kid shook again all up and down his body and I knew
I'd made my point, he didn't want anyone to know he was selling his
cherry for forty lousy bucks.

I leaned back up, grabbed my cock with one hand and stroked the soft
smooth skin of the kid's back with the other; I loved the way the kid
squirmed at the least little touch.  I pressed the head of my dick
even harder against his asshole.  It seemed like it took forever, my
cock was thumping, pulsing, screaming to be let into his ass, but
finally the head popped through, and the kid did squeal, a gasping
desperate cry as I poked the first inch of my cock into his shit-hole.
He moaned again as I shoved against him; slowly forcing inch by slow,
painful, inch of my dick into his tight little baby ass.  Noises,
animal noises, popped out of his lungs in bursts; the kid's hands were
balled into fists, one of them was squeezing his t-shirt, smashing it
into his mouth to stifle off his moans and grunts and squeals, and I
added my own animal fucking-noises to his being-fucked noises, as his
virgin ass squeezed my dick for all it was worth.

It was goddamn frustrating, slow going, and the instinct to _fuck_, to
piston my cock like a goddamn dog on a bitch in heat, pound my pud
back and forth in this kid's incredibly tight little ass was coursing
through my hips, barrelling back and forth between my belly button and
knees like a runaway train.  I got all caught up in this wave of pure
instinct, I found myself clutching the kid's skinny hips, squashing
fingerprint bruises into both sides of his pelvis.  I bent my knees,
held onto his hips, and slammed the rest of my dick up into his
shit-tube in one awesome thrust.  The kid choked on his t-shirt,
thrashing around on my pole rammed up his hole, both hands stuffed
against his mouth to keep from shrieking out loud.

I stopped for a few really long seconds, feeling the tight ring of the
little punk's ass muscle squeezing the base of my cock, the soft walls
of his shit-tube gripping the length of my dick, the sensitive head
buried deep inside his gut.  Feeling my loose, dangling balls resting
against his small hairless sac, Feeling his firm little butt-cheeks
mashed against my bush.

And then I totally fucking lost it, and I reamed him for all he was
worth.

The kid weighed barely a hundred pounds, I pumped his ass maybe a
dozen or so times, hard.  Quick, _really_ hard.  The desk made a major
racket as I did him, metal scraping noises as the thing moved around
as I pounded into the kid.  His butt-cheeks flattened when I slammed
into him, my hands crushing his hips, pulling him back onto my
stabbing prick, his butt seemed to rebound off my pelvis, only to be
reeled in again by the iron grip of my hands on his hips, picking up
speed on each cycle.

I came harder than I ever came before in my life, too; I slammed into
him so fast and hard I couldn't count the number of strokes. I could
fell his ass opening up more and more as I fucked him, the grip of his
butt-muscle getting looser and looser as my cum greased the way for my
dick.  I've got only this very dim memory of these faraway, muffled
screams filtering out around the wad of t-shirt the kid had crammed
into his mouth.

I popped my limp pud out of the kid's ass after I came, I pulled down
his t-shirt, wiped the streaks of shit, my cum, some blood that proved
his ass was virgin, off my dick on the inside of his shirt, stuffed
myself back into my shorts, and I watched, bored, as his asshole
winked and spasmed, spitting out little pinkish brown dribbles of my
jizz.  The kid lay for a couple seconds like that, bent over the desk
with his ass still exposed, his shorts and underwear around his
ankles, as I parked myself in the creaky old office chair on the other
side of the desk.

The kid got up slowly; I grinned at how he moved like he still had a
log up his ass.  I got the briefest glimpse of his flaccid pink little
prick and hairless groin as he pulled his pants up.  He stood there,
all nervous like, not looking at me, shifting around.  The whole thing
had lasted maybe three minutes, start to finish.

"Uh.  so...  could you uh.  spot me a hit?"

"Sure, for ten dollars" I stared at the kid, dead-eyed, as he stared
at his feet, hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched.

"You got my last ten bucks... " he mumbled, shifting his weight,
kicking nervously at the front of the desk.

"Yeah, I guess I do."

"I could suck you..."  the kid trailed off.

I laughed, real ugly,  a cruel laugh.  "Not interested."  

The kid shifted around, like he still expected something.  A cigarette
maybe?  A "thank-you sweetie"??

"I'm sure you can find some fag who wants a ten-dollar blow-job,"
I suggested helpfully.  "Now get the fuck outta here, unless you got
cash, I got business."

I watched him limp off, his walk all wobbly, what with my load still
sloshing around in his ass.  He'd be back.  That kid needed his head
candy.

I wonder what his name was?