The Artful Dodger
I live in Wheeling, a suburb north of Chicago. Recently I had the house to myself for a long weekend. I rarely screw around at my house, but this seemed like a good opportunity to indulge myself. I couldn't wait for Friday to roll around...
Soon enough it did. And as soon as I could I found myself on Sniffies. There were plenty of bubbles popping up all around but I didn't find anything particularly interesting. I decided to upgrade my profile to be very specific about what I was looking for.
"Older dad Home Alone and looking for a Young Twink to Play. To be specific: looking for a 20 or 30-something twink who enjoys servicing dads. We can start in my Jacuzzi and go from there..."
I walked away from the computer to make dinner.
After eating I sat down again in front of the computer. I noticed a red ball in the lower left hand corner of the screen indicating I had a message. I opened up the tab and to my delight I saw I had quite a handful of messages waiting. I started reading and was disappointed. I have nothing against guys my age and enjoy playing with them but tonight and hopefully this weekend I had something else on my mind. Something only a skinny young twink could satisfy. I politely responded to each, letting him know in each case that while his offer was interesting, it was not what I was looking for. I cleared each of the accumulated messages and then noticed that a new one had rolled in.
"I'm not exactly in the age group you're looking for," it started and I inwardly groaned, "but I'm hoping you'll make an exception for a 19 year old." I felt my cock harden and press against my gym shorts. His profile was blank but he told me his stats were: "19, 130, 5'9", cut cock."
I responded immediately: "you are exactly what I'm looking for." We chatted back and forth and confirmed that he was only a few miles east of my location. "Are you mobile?" I asked. "Not really," he replied, "but I could take an Uber to you if you want."
"Are you ready now," I texted.
Then there was a pause in the discourse. "Shit," I thought, "I've lost him." But a few seconds later he responded: "not just now but I could come over around 9 if that's not too late?"
"It's perfect," I responded. "I'm wondering if I can text or email you. I don't always trust these sites to be functioning when I want them to."
"Yes, that would be great," he said and he typed his email address. I quickly sent him an email and confirmed that 9 would be great. I also told him that if he gave me the address, I would order up the Uber for him. "That would be nice. There's a Pinstripes restaurant on Willow Road, near the Lowe's. It's a 10 minute walk from my house. I'll be there at 9 and you can send the Uber there?"
I wrote him back to tell him that it was a plan. I watched some porn on my computer, wandered around the house and tried not to check the time every 10 minutes. At about 8:45 I thought of a different plan. Instead of ordering an Uber, I could simply drive over to Northbrook (which was about 10 minutes away) and pick him up. I didn't want to freak him out by just showing up, so I sent him an email and told him my plan. A few seconds later he emailed back: "That's great. It will give us a chance to get to know each other."
I told him that I was on my way and gave him the make and model of my car. He responded by telling me what he was wearing jeans and an LA Dodgers t-shirt and that he'd be standing by the entrance to the restaurant.
I drove down Willow Road and pulled into the parking lot. Standing beside the entrance was a thin teenager with wavy blonde hair dressed in jeans and an LA Dodgers t-shirt--just as promised. I pulled up beside him and he walked over to the driver's side window. We were both sizing each other up, making sure nothing seemed "off." After a few seconds of greetings banter he said, "should I get in?" "Of course," I said.
He walked around the front of the car and got in the passenger seat. I was now able to take a better look. He was good looking. His blonde hair was wavy and touched his shoulders. He had sparkling blue eyes. His lips were red and full. He was more than good looking. He was very cute. And I could tell that hiding beneath the Dodgers T-Shirt and jeans was a lithe body.
He looked me over as well.
"Are you nervous?" I asked. He shook his head yes. I said, "try not to be. I promise you that only good things are going to happen for you tonight." He smiled at that.
He told me his name was Ryan and that he had just finished his sophomore year at college and was staying at his parents' house for the summer; trying to find a job.
I told him a little about me but not too much.
As we got to my street, I asked him to slouch down in his seat. It was twilight and I didn't want any of our neighbors asking questions about who was in the car with me. He dropped into the footwell and put his head on the seat. His right hand wandered over and stroked my bare leg just below where my shorts ended.