*Hello!
I have a few chapters of this finished, but I will try to release them one every two weeks, so I will have time to finish further chapters. I'm working on a few other things, and I'm pretty busy with finals, but don't worry. I wont post anything that I'm not completely sure I can finish.
All characters are 18+*
*
My lips were sealed. Sealed around his limp wrinkled member.
I massaged the soft glans with my tongue. He was old, so it took a while. I buried my lips in his scant wiry pubic hair. It was mostly grey, with a few streaks of pure white. I massaged the limp little three-inch nub of soft unresponsive flesh with my lips and tongue.
He groaned and put his hands on my head. His limp cock was starting to fill. It was about four inches long now. It still stretched slightly when I withdrew my head, holding the tip of it in my lips. I reached between his skinny old-man legs and cradled his ballsack. It was lukewarm and dangly. I cradled it up to a normal height and continued my careful oral manipulations. My jaw was starting to get sore, along with my knees. I had been kneeling here in this dark back room for almost ten minutes already.
The semi-turgid tip of his cock pressed against the back of my throat, but with no real urgency. When I tried to move forwards, his cock was still too soft to penetrate. I had to muffle a frustrated sigh of relief when he finally got hard. When he finally started to bump his skinny hips, a sure sign that he was ready, that he was almost done.
I increased the tempo of my bobbing head. The head of his cock hit the back of my throat over and over. I gagged a little as his cock pushed past my gag reflex.
"Neil!" He gasped. I took the hint and quickly withdrew. I rubbed his slick cock with my left hand while grabbing for a tissue.
I was too late. I had been hoping to cover his cock with the tissue before he came, but nope. His come squirted onto my cheek and hand and the shoulder of my blue uniform shirt. I gritted my teeth and swore silently. I wiped my face and shirt and hand with the tissue, hoping that it wouldn't leave a stain.
Mr. Browning pulled up his slacks, panting. He put the apron back on over his pants and work shirt.
I blinked in the light outside the dark storage room. I went to the front of the little gas station/convenience and flipped the paper sign that he had hung on the door. The sign said 'Back in 5'. It used to be 'Out for lunch' but then I started working the evening shifts. It was getting dark outside. Ben and the rest would be expecting me soon.
A young woman came in and looked through the glass cases holding all of the drinks. It was a stinking-hot day and the glass was frosted with beads of water from the humidity. I watched her open the door and close her eyes in the draft of cool air from inside, wiping her sweaty forehead.
Mr. Browning looked at the clock on the wall. It had a crack in the glass and the second-hand was broken.
His voice was quiet. "You can head home Neil."
I sighed and took off my plastic name-tag, tossing it in a small plastic basket under the register. I clocked out and dug the tough string shopping bag from my pocket. I untangled the strings and went through the little grocery section, looking for things that we absolutely needed.
I bagged a 12-pack of Kraft macaroni. I grabbed a heavy bag of apples that was a dollar off with this coupon I had clipped from the paper. I took a half-gallon of whole milk from the frosty beverage coolers, closing my eyes in the brief cool puff of air.
At the tiny section of over-the-counter medication, I picked up the cheapest brand of Tylenol knockoffs. I stuffed it all in the string bag and rang it up at the register with Mr. Browning. We ran a tab with him. Every month Mr. Browning 'accidentally' charged us twenty or thirty dollars less. That was my contribution to the family. Along with two part-time jobs and trying to keep the peace.
I walked out and it was the time of day where the sun was disappearing, but the temperature was still boiling, barely starting to cool.
I swiped my wrist across my forehead, feeling droplets of moisture drip off. It had been a long day. And it was only eight.
---
The elevator in my apartment had been broken for as long as I could remember. I heaved my way up ten flights of stairs, feeling the sweat-stains on my blue work-shirt expand. I could hear Lisse crying from the ninth floor. I swore softly and hurried, ignoring the way my legs burned for a break.
I burst into apartment 1012. Lisse was sitting in her playpen, crying. It was the weak tired kind of crying, and I knew that she would quit soon, if only from sheer exhaustion. She had a bloody nose and her little face was scrunched up and red. I could hear Calvin watching TV in the other room, turned up loud to what sounded like a cartoon. Ben was sitting on the worn couch with his textbooks spread in front of him, clutching his hair in his fists. I could smell something burning.
I ran to the kitchen, and Celia was in there all alone, tears running down her face as she tried to wash something burnt and blackened out of the saucepan into the sink. She saw me and started to cry harder.
"I'm sorry Neil! I tried to make Ben do it but he wont because he's studying for his stupid tests and he yelled at me! Calvin wont help at all, he just said that he needs to watch some dumb show. I tried to make Lisse stop crying but she just w-w-wont stop!"
My frail ten-year-old half-sister collapsed and started to cry uncontrollably, going into minor hysterics. I was so full of pent-up rage at my brothers that I felt like I would explode.
Instead I put the groceries on the table. "Celia? Put the groceries away, then go to Ben's room and lie down on the big bed for a few minutes with the lights off. I want you to calm down and take deep breaths, okay?"
I left the chaotic kitchen, the charred smell making me feel sick. I scooped up Lisse from her playpen, feeling her sagging diaper for weight. I despaired at the stink. How could one toddler produce so much shit?
I walked down the hallway. Calvin was sitting on the edge of his bunk bed. He was Celia's twin, husky and mohawked, staring intently at a cartoon on the screen.
"Calvin, why didn't you help your sister? She is so stressed out right now and she isn't the only one. The house is falling apart and you are just sitting on your lazy ass in here watching a show about fucking ninja turtles. Meanwhile, your little sister has been screaming for god knows how long with shit in her diaper."
Calvin glared at me. "Why doesn't Ben do anything? All he ever does is read his books. Why couldn't Celia do it?"
I just about snapped. "Celia was in the kitchen trying to make dinner for your sorry ass, and Ben is studying for his finals. What have you contributed? Jack-motherfucking-shit."
Calvin was red-faced when I turned off the TV and yanked the cord from the outlet. "You never yell at them, you JERK. You make me do ALL of the work here."