All characters are at least 18 years old..
***********
I saw him while I was pumping my gas, and he immediately got my attention. For one thing, we don't get all that many walking in my neck of the woods, because there's a whole lot of nothing around for miles and miles. Secondly, he was walking in one of our patented torrential rainstorms, and with the wind blowing and the lightning crackling, this was no night for a hike.
I called out to the shadowy figure, who was wearing a hooded sweatshirt, but he couldn't hear me because of the noise of the storm, and continued walking. A car whizzed by him, and as it did, he turned around and stuck his thumb out. The car kept going, either not seeing him or just not interested in taking a chance in picking up a stranger on a night like this.
After filling up, I hopped into the car and drove down the road. When I approached the young fellow, he turned and stuck out his thumb in a half-hearted manner, obviously not having had much luck so far. I slowed and pulled over about ten yards in front of him, and he ran up to me and opened the car door, looking in at me hopefully.
"Hop in before you drown," I said, and he got in eagerly.
"Thanks!" he said, apologizing for getting the seat wet.
"Not much you can do about that on a night like this," I said. "Where are you headed?"
"East."
East was a direction, not a destination, and after we talked for a while I found out that he had taken a bus out to Chicago with the money he had gotten for graduating high school. It had been a dream of his to go to see the Cubs at Wrigley Field, but the trip didn't work out very well.
The Cubs had lost, but what made the trip worse was the fact that he lost his wallet that first day, or had gotten it lifted by a pickpocket. Either way, the wallet had his bus ticket, his ticket for the next day's game, and most of his money in it, and he was stuck almost 600 miles from home. Two days later, he had managed to get about halfway.
"Why didn't you call your folks?" I asked.
"They would never let me forget it," he told me. "I have a habit of losing things and junk like that, and my mom didn't even want me to go because she was afraid I would do something stupid - like I did."
"Won't they be worried about you?"
"Nah. I wasn't supposed to be home until tomorrow anyway," he said.
"You'll never get there walking on roads like this."
"I don't even know where I am."
"You're about 40 miles from Buffalo," I told him. "I would take you there, but not in this weather. If you want to, you can stay with me tonight, and tomorrow morning I can drive you to Buffalo. My place is up ahead about two miles."
"I really should keep going," he said, but his voice lacked any real conviction, and the loud clap of thunder that followed the lightning made us both flinch.
"Up to you," I said, and as I neared the road my place was on, I pulled onto the shoulder of the road.
"I turn off here," I said, before making him an offer I hoped he couldn't refuse. "Tell you what. If you want, you can stay with me tonight, and tomorrow morning I'll drive you to Buffalo, and you can catch a bus home from there."
"But I don't have enough..."
"I'll buy you the ticket, and you can mail me the money when you can," I told him in my most reassuring voice. "I used to do stuff like that when I was your age, and I remember how my parents were. This way, they'll never have to know."
It took my young friend about a second to realize that he was getting an opportunity to get home without having to grovel to his parents, and he eagerly accepted my offer.
"That would be great, mister," he said grinning from ear to ear. "I will pay you back too. I promise."
"I'm sure you will," I said, turning onto my road.
"Well, it's really nice of you."
"One time when I was young, a man helped me out when I needed a hand, so I'm just passing it on. And please don't call me Mister. That makes me feel even older than I am. I'm Tom."
"I'm Brad."
I was certainly pleased to meet Brad, I thought to myself, a tad guilty about feeling like a wolf in the hen-house, but far too excited to care. The story about the man that helped me in my youth was true enough, and I planned to give young Brad the same kind of guidance that Mr. Scott had provided to me some 30 years ago.
*********
My place, a small cottage that I used as a summer retreat, had all of the basics that I needed. A large screen TV and DVD player were just about the only modern features the place had, and a couch and a reclining chair with a lamp summed up the living room furnishings. A small kitchenette with a mini washer/dryer combo, a bedroom with a bed and night table, and a tiny bathroom with a shower was all I had and all I needed.
I spent little time in the cottage, preferring to take hikes, go fishing, or just sit outside on the porch and enjoy the solitude. The two months I spent away from teaching were precious to me, and I enjoyed every moment. Still and all, there were times when I really wanted some company.
Especially when the company was somebody like Brad. When he peeled off his sweatshirt, I could see that he was a skinny little fellow; probably about 5'7" and 120 pounds dripping wet. The Cubs t-shirt underneath was wet too, as were his pants.
"You must be hungry," I said. "Why don't you go take a shower. I'll get your clothes cleaned and dried for you, and when you come out you can eat"
Brad didn't seem enthusiastic about that, but his clothes were so wet he didn't have much of a choice, and the mention of food got his attention. He went into the bathroom and undressed, and when he was through he opened the door as little as he could to pass the soggy mess to me.
I took the clothes and after Brad closed the door behind himself, I peeked through the crack in the door at him. Such a tiny little guy, I thought to myself as I enjoyed him walking to the shower. His hair was long and dirty blonde in color, and he had skinny legs and a cute butt with dimples, and I was hard almost immediately.
He leaned into the shower to adjust the spray, and I felt light-headed as I saw the muscles in his thighs and ass strain, hoping and praying for him to turn around.
Brad did turn around, just for a fleeting second, and when he did I nearly came in my pants when I caught a glimpse of his tiny flaccid dick wiggling beneath his little tuft of pubic hair. I forced myself to move away from the door - so tempted was I to run in and devour him. Patience, I told myself.
Two soggy dollar bills, some change, a comb and a ticket stub from Wrigley Field. Those were the contents of Brad's pockets, as I emptied them before throwing them into the washer along with his t-shirt, white crew socks, and his white cotton underwear. Thirty inch waist, I noted.
Setting the washer for a long cycle, I waited for the shower to turn off before getting it going, making us some soup and sandwiches. When the shower turned off, I started the wash and hustled into the bedroom to change into something more comfortable. Settling on white pajamas with black stripes, I glanced at my reflection in the mirror. My erection had not fully subsided, and the bulge was still very visible in the short pants.
I tried to calm myself down, not wanting to scare the fellow off, and went back to the kitchen. Brad was peeking out of the bathroom, looking around for me.
"Come on out Brad," I said. "It'll be a while until your clothes get done. I made us some dinner."
Brad looked even smaller with the over-sized towel wrapped around his waist. His scrawny chest was hairless, as was most of the rest of his body. Brad's legs had just a little fur down on the insides of his calves, and he had only tiny wisps of hair under his arms as well. I set the bowls and plates on the table and sat down quickly, because I was getting hard again taking inventory of my guest.
We ate heartily, and when the teapot whistled I remembered that I was planning on a little treat for us.
"Peppermint Patties!" I explained as I made the hot chocolate, pouring in generous amounts of the Schnapps that gave it some extra kick. "Warm us up after being out in that mess."
"Wow, this is really great Tom!" Brad said after sampling the drink, and he finished it off rapidly.
"They sneak up on you, though," I cautioned Brad, but I quickly got up and made us a couple more.
"Don't get decent TV reception up here," I said, leading Brad out to the living room after we finished eating, and herded him to the couch instead of the chair he had originally headed toward. "I do have some movies though. Feel like watching something?"
"Sure," Brad said, holding his mug in one hand and gripping the knot that held the towel around him with the other.
"Don't know what you like, but most young fellows like racy stuff, so you might like this," I said, putting the DVD in the machine and joining Brad on the compact couch.
"Great TV," Brad said as I turned it on and dimmed the light. "What's the name of the movie?"
"It's called "Bi The Way", I said, not mentioning the spelling of the first word in the title. "Have you seen it?"
I knew he hadn't seen it, and judging by the look on his face as the action started, he hadn't seen anything like it before. As the movie began, a girl and a boy were making out in her bedroom, and as they stripped down and began getting intimate, I glanced over at Brad. His eyes were bulging and his jaw had dropped as he sat hypnotized.
"Fellow as good looking as you must get all the girls," I suggested, as the boy in the film mounted the girl and began fucking her. "You've done that, right?"
"Once," Brad said, unable to turn away from the screen. "That girl there is really cute."
"Too bad we didn't find a girl hitchhiking on the way," I mused. "That could be us."
The 'us' in the movie included an older man, presumably the girl's father, who had caught the two humping and was now getting undressed and planning on joining the action.
