Cock Sucker Community Service

A drab room lost in a bureaucratic nightmare of drab corridors. A screen and a file-cabinet full of cases, each of them lost delinquents, just as I am. Hopeless repeat offenders.

He looks up at me with a bored expression. 'You realize that, no matter what mitigating circumstances we can fabricate, you qualify for a custodial sentence this time?'

I shrug as best as I can, attempting to seem nonchalant.

He shuffles papers on his desk, in and out of a buff-coloured manilla folder, as though contemplating. 'There is... just one possible way out for you, although I hesitate to suggest it.'

He's perked my interest. 'Tell me, Mr Collingwood, tell me.'

He gets up, turns around so he's looking out the window, hands clasped loosely behind his back. 'You know about Community Service? Course you do. You've done all that picking up litter and scrubbing graffiti off walls thing. I know you have. Because of the severity of your situation, what I'm empowered to offer you is a different kind of Community Service, a way of working off your debt to society. But there's no compulsion. None of this is being done under any kind of duress. You are absolutely entitled to reject this offer, and take whatever legal consequences that follow. You understand?'

I nod warily. 'What's so special about this Community Service?'

'It's a branch of Help The Aged, care in the community for isolated elderly gentlemen. You will be required to act in the capacity of a kind of surrogate, to relieve their sexual tensions and frustrations. To improve their quality of life.'

I startle to my feet in shock. 'You mean sex with old guys?'

'As I say, your refusal will be honoured, and is understandable. This is an entirely voluntary service. But it will qualify as Community Service, and get you off the hook regarding any other legal proceedings.'

Wait, I'm thinking it over. I've not always been socially well-adjusted. I've got what welfare calls a 'troubled' life-history. I've got myself into precarious scrapes. I've done things I've not always been proud of. And sure, I've had dubious sexual encounters, some of them involving the exchange of payment. Can this proposition really be so bad?

'How do you know I can do this?'

'You'll be learning on the job. I'll be monitoring. Any time you feel unsure, any time you want to back out of the agreement, that's fine.'

'So when do I start?'

'Right now, if you feel you're ready.'

His Japanese hatchback is parked in the lot out back. Being outside feeling the low breeze on my skin seems strangely unreal. As though this isn't really happening. How weird, how surreal is this? Mr Collingwood pulls out into traffic, me in the passenger seat beside him. He has a briefcase with a clipboard and tablet. 'You're young' he begins. 'If you get custodial it would not go well with you, if you get my meaning. Chances are you'd end up being used sexually anyway, with or without your consent. I'm concerned about you. I'm offering you to chance, you understand, Bryan?'

I nod. 'Thank you, Mr Collingwood.'

We pull into a fast-food franchise. He gets me a burger and coke, and watches as I consume it greedily. Then he looks down at his folder. 'Your first client will be Mr Edgerston. He's a seventy-five-year-old widower who lives alone. This will be your test-case. But beware, he can be a devious cunning old sod. You will give him fellatio. You understand the term?'

I smile nervously around a mouthful of burger. I know all the terms I need to know.

Soon afterwards we draw up outside a bungalow in a leafy cul-de-sac. He parks the hatchback precisely aligned to the curb. 'Number seventy-two' he indicates, 'that one. I'll wait here. Are you alright with this Bryan?'

'Sure I'm alright.' I step out onto the grass verge, crunching on drifts of dead leaves. Still not believing that this can be for real. I turn my collar up, not exactly because of the cool breeze, more because it seems furtive. The garden gate creaks. I slouch up the path and push the bell. I get a sudden irrational urge to make a break for it, to get the hell out. Collingwood's attention is lost deep in his files. If I take to my heels I can be over the low wall and off down the street before anyone realizes. But what's the good? You can't fight the system. They'd only track me down and haul me in.

The door opens abruptly. A tall stooping man with steel-grey hair. 'Yes? What do you want?'

'Mr Edgerston? Mr Collingwood sent me.'

He appraises me up and down critically. 'In that case, I suppose you'd best come in.' I squeeze past him into the entrance hall, and from there into the front room. 'So, you're the new boy?' he demands. 'I hope you're better than the last one they sent me. He was useless, did nothing but sob and whimper.' I look around nervously, there's a clutter of old-fashioned furniture, ornaments and family photographs that seem to come from some other lost age. He slumps down into a faded corner armchair opposite the TV. 'C'mon boy, what are you waiting for? Get your clothes off so I can see what they've sent me this time.'

So this is how it begins? He watches as I kick off my shoes, a cool searching gaze as I drape my jacket carefully over the chair, then pull my T-shirt up and off self-consciously. I hesitate. This is creepy. There's no sound but the ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece. With sudden determination I take a deep breath, unfasten the belt, and shove my pants and underwear down in a single move, straightening to step out of them. Embarrassingly, I've got a lazy half-erection that sways free. Unexpectedly he reaches out and grabs hold of my cock. His old wrinkled fingers curling in tight around me as he laughs out loud at my discomfort. My first impulse is to push him away, but I resist and control my reaction. Allowing his fingers to do what they may. He nudges me around and runs his hand across the soft curve of my bare bottom, chuckling possessively like some miser counting his wealth.

At the same time, he's fumbling in his own groin, unfastening his way down his fly-buttons. 'Oh Fuck, this is where it gets REALLY nasty.' And he's pulling out a surprisingly impressive erect penis. 'Down on your knees, boy, get this in your dirty gob.'

I glance out through the net curtains. The Japanese hatchback is still there. This is what I'm here to do. I crouch down, shuffle in between his splayed legs. There's a stale aroma as my face moves in. He's holding his cock at its base, in a nest of wispy white pubic hair, arrowing it up at me, it looks angry and impatient. He's grinning a big lewd grin, enjoying my humiliation. I close my eyes and gulp. My lips purse up against the cock-head, apply slight pressure so that it just slips inside, a sour taste floods my mouth. His hand tightens against the back of my head, and he shoves, so I have no choice, but to swallow more of it and suck automatically. He grunts with obscene satisfaction. The foulness has been swallowed away, and I can no longer see his face, so it's more anonymous, impersonal. The more I suck the quicker the whole escapade will be over and I can go, so I suck more fiercely, lashing my tongue up and down the impressive shaft, nuzzling my head deeper into his groin.

'Fuck, boy, you're good' he groans somewhere above my head. The clock tick-tick-ticks as I suck-suck-suck, his hips move up to meet me, fucking into my mouth.

Then he's pulling my head up and away. 'Down on all fours, boy, I want you doggy.'

I wipe my mouth in confusion. 'I'm not sure if I'm...'

'Look, I want no back-chat. I used to do that to my wife. I got rights, you know? You're here to satisfy my needs.'

'Wait. I gotta use the bathroom.' I lurch up, feeling more than a little giddy, and shuffle across to his bathroom. Once inside I lean up against the washbasin breathing heavy. I can see my face in the mirror. I'm not looking good. I empty my bowels, raid his cabinets hunting out some lube, eventually locating a jar of ancient Vaseline, rubbing it carefully around my anal orifice, my fingers slipping inside. I pause. Building up my resolve.

Then I'm back in his front room, down on all fours, my arse raised and legs slightly parted for him. He laughs cruelly and moves in behind me. I can feel his hands crawling all over my skin. Feel the warm insistent pressure of his cock-head forcing up against my tight hole. I brace, and steel myself. There's a moment's resistance, then suddenly he's sliding into me relentlessly. I gasp and hold firm. And he starts fucking. It feels so strange, disconnected, his balls slapping up between my legs, each thrust causing my own cock to bounce and tremble up against my gut. The fucking goes on, then he shouts something obscene, holds himself deep inside me, I can feel the heat of it jerking and pulsing. My whole body sings, tingling and buzzing as he pumps into me.

He pulls out so sharply that I collapse onto the carpet. Pulling myself up onto my knees on jelly-legs he stands close enough to wipe his cock clean on my face. 'I lied, Boy. My wife never used to let me do that. But I always wanted to do it.'

He slumps back into his armchair, his pants still around his knees. 'You're good. You can come here again. But right now, you can get out of my house. Right?'

I search around for my clothes, befuddled and sweaty. 'Yes sir. Thank you, Mr Edgerston.'

Stumbling back outside, Collingwood slopes the car door open for me. 'Get in, hurry. We're behind schedule. What the hell took you so long?'

I strap myself in. 'Sorry. He... uh, wanted anal.'

'Anal? Did I tell you to permit him anal? Did I? Did I? See here in the schedule... it says you give him oral. There's no mention of anal. You think you can just go off-plan like that and simply do what you want? This is an integrated service, we have guidelines.'

'I'm sorry Mr Collingwood, I didn't know what to do for the best. I thought we were supposed to provide satisfaction.'

'Did you use a condom?'

'I never thought.'

'So you run the risk of exposing him to infection too!'

He slides the car into gear and pulls away, with a snort of disapproval. 'Don't mess the upholstery.' As he maneuvers into traffic he seems to mollify a little. 'The next stop is at the Care Home, we can catch up time there.' I say nothing, deciding that silence is the best policy. I've got a sour taste in my mouth, and my bottom is still tingling... not unpleasantly! For an old guy, that Mr Edgerston sure had a surprising degree of stamina. The only thing that troubled me was the thought of all that sexual excitation bringing on a heart attack.

By now we are slowing into the lazy suburbs. A big house set back off the avenue through security-keyed gates. He draws up in the car-park beneath a spreading willow, and leads me up into the house. The plaque beside the door says 'Sunny Days Care Home'. He codes us through into the reception. A middle-aged woman in nurse's uniform looks up and smiles at Mr Collingwood. She smiles in a more teasing way at me, as though she's amused at the thought of why I'm here.

She indicates the wide flight of richly-carpeted stairs leading upwards. Flashing a quick glance sideways, there are elderly people sitting in the day-room overlooking the garden, they're playing chess, reading books or just deep in conversation. One or two of them look up. I look away, scared to meet their eyes. We climb the stairs. Off to the left there's a room set aside for us, with a queue of five old guys there already waiting. Collingwood greets them as I go ahead into the room.

There's a bed, an easy chair and a low plush couch. I try out each of them, rehearsing what I must do in here. Accepting, fatalistically, that I have no choice. I'm committed to doing this. It's not possible to back down now. Collingwood opens the door, and ushers the first gentleman in. He smiles and reaches out to shake my hand, which is the last thing I expect. He sits on the edge of the bed, and I squat down. Unzip him, and extract a shriveled little stub of a cock. He looks down at me with an apologetic expression. I dip my head and kiss its sticky tip. Lick my way around the glans. Then suck it tenderly into my mouth, sucking gently. It swells and stiffens a little, without ever achieving a fully convincing erection, before he gives a pathetic whimper, and pulses a glob of white fluid into my mouth. I swallow it, and keep sucking, stirring it with my tongue. He stands up awkwardly, tucking it away. He says 'thank you' and shakes my hand again. Suddenly, what I'm doing doesn't seem so absurd. I'm bringing happiness to these people. Surely that's good? And he was quick, which speeds the process. Makes up for lost time.

Collingwood enters, carrying coffee. I slurp it greedily. 'You OK?' he asks.

'I'm fine' I nod.

The next guy who shuffles in takes longer. He lies on his back on the bed and I suck him for a considerable time, as though he's been desensitized by age and needs greater stimulation. I fondle his balls to add to the sensation. He looks down to watch me work, taking him as deep into my throat as I can, sucking hard, using slight teeth-pinches that make him squirm, until he cums in long blobby drools of spunk. Then the next gentleman is ushered in, a portly man with military bearing who stands to attention as I sit to suck his stiff erection, fondling his scrotum-arsenal of tight hard cannonballs primed to detonate. If this is what soldiering is about, I'm surrendering to it. And then the man after that. Until I've sucked off all five. There's one late-comer. I suck him off too. There's no-one else.

Collingwood stays in dialogue with the Nurse while I shuffle in sullen silence. Back in the car we sit side by side. He ticks off names on his list from long forms filed in his folder. Then he turns to me. 'You did fine today, Bryan. I'm sorry if I was sharp with you earlier. But I fully understand if you decide not to continue with this line of service. I respect your decision.'

I think of Mr Edgerston's devious subterfuge. I think of the courteous old gentleman with the shriveled stub of a cock, and the way he shook my hand and thanked me. The memory makes me smile. He's lived a long life, seen things I'll never see, felt pain I'll never know. Is it too much to ask to bring a little pleasure into his life?

'No, Mr Collingwood. If it's quite alright with you, I'd prefer to continue with this Community Service work. To improve the quality of life of isolated elderly gentlemen is a noble calling.'

He slides the car into gear, and pulls away, into a strange new future...