Paolo

"Paolo, nice to see you," I said.

The young man smiled when he saw me approach.

"You had quite the fun, mister," Paolo said. He paused his cleaning work to watch my approach. He already had caught so many beer bottles, plastic cups and even condoms from the pool.

"Sorry about that," I said.

"Don't worry, mister. It's no big deal, really."

"No dad, today?" I asked.

"No, just me."

"Just you, huh."

"Yessir."

"Mind if watch you for a bit?"

"No, though it's gonna be quite boring."

"On the contrary."

I sat down by one of pool tables, loosening the knot on my robe. I sipped a little wine, and watched the lad working the pool.

During the years his father had worked there, Paolo had grown into a large young man. Wide shoulders, buff legs, and a face that had something lupine hiding behind the angles. Those eyes, too keen, for someone so young.

I sipped the wine again.

"Why are you being so shy today?" I asked the lad. "Daddy isn't here."

He dropped his boxer briefs. Clear tan lines marked the edge of his iron butt. When he turned, the erection bounced. His balls seemed to weight a ton by the way they fell between his legs, hairy, engorged, full.

"Mister, I was thinking," Paolo began. "Maybe I could get a little extra today?"

He touched the tip of his member, knowing full well I was distracted by it.

"A little extra?" I said, half listening, the other half on the moon. "How much?"

"Like two hundred."

"Two hund... that's interesting, Paolo, and what do I get from it?"

"How about some touching?" He rubbed a hand on his abs. "Wherever you want."

"Touching? I don't think that's quite good enough. How about this, I'll give you three hundred more today and you finally let me suck that amazing cock of yours."

He grinned, suddenly shy, suddenly hesitant.

"No mister, that's a line I won't cross."

"How about five hundred?" I said.

As he lounged on the couch with legs open, Paolo avoided looking down. He stared at the ceiling, eyes distant and face hard like he was undergoing something awful. Only thing was, he was hard and couldn't hide it. He was gifted in size and my throat felt it. He stayed motionless, and I was the only one making noise as I swallowed meat. He closed his eyes and squeezed my head between his fingers. There was no moaning. No talking. Only a single grunt. And suddenly his shaft was shooting.

I stood up, a swollen pride for having done this to a gorgeous young man. He looked up finally, sweat trickling down his face, chest, balls. He was drenched. He emanated the sweat, a musky smell which would forever have a place in my memories.

"Fuck," he whispered. "I gotta go now, papa will be wondering why I'm taking so long."

He sounded like he didn't believe what had just happened.

"Go to papa, handsome."

He went to papa, but he returned to me eventually. My blowjob had just been too good. Though I had to pay money, he was opening himself up to new experiences. He didn't look away the second time, he watched every second. His balls were my meal, his cum my sustenance. Getting slapped in the face gently only proved how much he was enjoying it. He began to play with me.

"You're better than my girlfriend."

He looked at me differently. Even around his daddy, he seemed almost too distracted around my presence. Big dumb latino hunk, just the way I loved it.

He was getting addicted to gay head, all the while carrying that Virgin Mary necklace which had been a present from his daddy. I asked him to spit on his cock so I could suck it, all the while the necklace dangled from his neck. Turning a Catholic boy into a sinner.

He had been no saint though. He admitted to being a cheater, with other, many other girls. Only I was joining a club, not founding it.

His daddy almost caught us going at it in the pool. The lad was twenty something, but to his father, a boy, innocent, pure.

Nothing innocent about the way he had been stabbing me in the ass with that monstrosity he called cock. I turned slut, bitch, even though he was technically the whore. He told me was frustrated he didn't get to spurt his juices in my pussy, that his father had showed up suddenly and ruined it.

He hadn't noticed his father was suspecting something. I did. I saw murder in those black eyes. It made me shiver. We stopped meeting during his gigs at my pool. He showed up in the middle of the night instead, smelling good, sweet, as if dressed up for a date, only for me to mess him up good. He didn't take my money anymore, he only wanted my holes.

He had the energy of a horse, the eagerness of a bunny. He wanted my throat burning, my anus filled, my face covered. He didn't care about girls anymore. Even the Holy Mary he put aside on the bedstand protectively.

"I wanna lock you up and use your cock all day, boy" I told him.

"Yeah, love when you say those things, mister," he said. I was still mister, even with him deep inside me.

Nothing could prepare me for the sight of him in my bed, naked, half-covered by sheets, a hand below rubbing and scracthing his balls. The hand went up and he smelled his own smell. He looked so manly, so raw. He saw me watching him from the bathroom door.

"How was your shower?" he asked.

"It was great."

"Can I have one too?"

"No. I want you to leave your scent all over my bed tonight."

The next day, he forgot to take the Virgin Mary. I took the necklace and put it on, taking good care of it while he was away. I knew he was going to come back. I kind of forgot it was there around my neck during the work hours, under my clothes.

Jerry appeared in the bathroom at that moment. He was a co-worker, a skinny otter, but he had a huge cock. He eyed the door suggestively and then at me. A moment later, we were in the last stall, me holding his balls with both hands while he thrust in my mouth. Jerry never lasted long. I washed my face and mouth after, but his taste persisted in my tongue.

I felt something weird. Guilt.

That was not normal for me. Jerry had never been a nice catch, but I usually enjoyed getting slammed by pathetic guys who were below me, professionaly or morally. I liked giving them the five-minute thrill of power. However, this time, I only thought about my bed and the wonderful smell waiting for me there.

The smell of him was all I got. Paolo didn't show up, didn't come back, that night or the next night. When I called, his father turned me away, telling me that neither he nor his son would work for me again. I was afraid of asking why because of course I knew the answer.

A part of me still waited for Paolo to show up, but he didn't.

Finding guys wasn't a problem. I fucked many during the weeks that followed, but none could compare, none had the something which kept bringing my thoughts back to Paolo.

I thought maybe I had grown a taste for young latino boys, so I found some to fuck and get fucked by.

It was so easy to find them online or by recommendations. There were lads for many tastes, skinny, fat, tall, short, thick...Some were into guys, some sucked your cock like they were going through surgery without anesthesia.

Ding. Dong.

"Who is it?"

"Hey mister. It's me, Paolo."

Heartbeat. Skipped.

Inside I was a gorilla going mad. When I opened the door, the gorilla's eyes popped out with the sight of the handsomest man he had ever laid eyes upon.

"Paolo," I said calmly. "Nice to see you."

I took him to the living room, offered him water. He refused. Side by side, I could smell him.

"You had a party, mister?"

I looked around, realizing how messy everything was. I followed his eyes to the used condoms on top of the table.

"You know how I am," I said. Why was I feeling bad?

"Is there anyone with you right now?" he asked. Was he...jealous?

"I'm alone."

He nodded. Then shook his head. "I have no right," he muttered.

"What do you mean, Paolo?"

"To come here. Ask questions. It's just..."

The living room was naturally lit by windows. I could see his lips quiver, beautiful lips. He wasn't always this beautiful, was he? His face hadn't changed much, so why did it seem like he was perfection incarnate?

Please, fuck me. I'll do whatever you want. I'll roll on the floor like a dog. I'll beg on my knees. I'll cry. I'll give you all my money. Let me have you one more time in my bed, Paolo.

I wanted to say those things. I knew they were crazy, but I still wanted to say them.

"It's just what?" was all I was able to say.

Paolo sighed, exasperated. He fell back on the couch, raising his hands to his head. "I don't know. I guess I have been thinking too much about you. But I don't know how to...classify you in my head, if that makes sense. Are you my boss, my owner, my friend? Which one?"

"Can I be all of them? Do I have to choose?"

"You always want everything." Paolo got up. "That's the problem, isn't it? Maybe I shouldn't have come."

"Paolo, I don't understand, lad."

"I can't handle you, mister. You're too much for me. Too intense."

"Don't go," I said. I got up too, took his hand and pulled him for a hug. He smelled my neck, but kept trying to untangle himself. He drew away from me. I insisted.

"I don't know about this, mister."

I grabbed his erection. "What's this, then?"

He shrugged.

"I know a place for it. Very warm, comforting. I think it's a great match. You can stay there all night."

"Hmmm," he said, a little more convinced. Our lips touched slightly. "What if I want to break in?"

"That's okay too. Maybe the place needs a little forceful rearraging."

His chuckle was deep.

The bed was ours and it shook. He railed me right in the middle of it, grabbing my buttcheeks, sweating, humming and moaning. No hesitation in his crotch slams. He wanted to tear my flesh apart, make me bleed from the inside.

"OOhhhhh I missed this hole," he said.

He lay on top of me, still inside me, still hard even after cumming. "I have nowhere to go," he admitted. "Dad threw me out."

"Yes, you do," I said.

He rolled over. I moaned as he slid out. "Shit, I wanna fuck you again, all night, baby," he said. He sounded serious.

"Then do it."

"You have too much power over me."

"Then I guess I have to give you my power."

"Really?"

"Oh yeah. I'll do anything you want if you stay here with me."

"No fucking anyone else. I want exclusivity."

"Done," I said.

"Okay, let's see how this goes."

It went well.

I woke up early, leaving a big baby snoring in my bed. I went to the poolside, lay down to get some tan. Suddenly, two huge hard buttcheeks suffocated me. I began licking, eating his ass like I was in a dream. He rubbed his balls all over my face. He came in my mouth.

"Good morning," was all he said.

Nights were interesting too. I found him on his knees, praying. "What are you doing?" I asked, knowing the answer already. Something about the scene made me feel so happy. I wanted to sit there on my bed to watch him move his lips.

It reminded of the Virgin Mary necklace which I had stolen. Stolen, yes, because I didn't want to give it up. I wanted to keep it.

"I'm almost done," he whispered at me, as if God wouldn't be able to listen. I shook my head, wondering why I couldn't take my eyes away. He made me want to be more religious. Why not? I knew some prayers too. Beside him, kneeling, mouthing silently. He gave me a sideye.

"You don't have to do this," he said.

"I want to."

"You mean it?"

"Yeah."

After we were done, we didn't have sex, though we hugged and talked about triviality. Our limbs tangled, our breaths mingling, I rubbed my nose against his, and laughed as he made jokes and funny voices.

But then it grew hot. His breath gave me tingles. He put a finger up my ass and began to slide in and out, slowly, very slowly, oh so very slowly.

"You just know how to fuck with me, don't you," I agonized.

"I'm so proud of myself for being able to do it," he said. His smile was like a boy's. Then it came back to being predatory. "Yes, cry about it, I'll make you beg all night before using my cock."

And it was a promise.