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  • Mikey

    • In the 70's, people still cruised the streets late at night, and I was one of them. On this particular night, I noticed a guy along Sherman Way, half-heartedly thumbing a ride. I pulled up and opened the passenger side door.
    "Get in" I said.

    He stepped off the curb, and nearly fell into the car.

    "Uhhhh" was all he said.

    Even in the dark, I could tell that he was really loaded - easy meat, I thought. I had scoped him out, and was super impressed by the bubble butt that pressed against the shiny black slacks commonly worn by the buss-boys or servers, usually Latinos, my favorite pickups. But, the hair and face didn't match the Latino makeup. Sandy hair, short stature, muscular, blue eyes, not Latino, but just as nice. He looked over at me, and again, kind of groaned.

    "Are you OK?" I asked

    "Yeah - I just wrecked my car"

    "Wow - are you sure you're OK - would you like me to take you to the Emergency Room?"

    "Naw, I'm just a little sore, I'll be all right, but thanks"

    "Where you headed?"

    "Anyplace but home - I'm trying to stay out till I feel sober - my mom's gonna kill me for wrecking the car"

    "Well, I'm headed home further down this street, so if you'd like to hang out there for awhile, it's OK with me".

    "That's nice of you, if it's not too much trouble I would appreciate it - I don't feel much like walking around the streets the rest of the night till I can go home"

    We drove the rest of the way in silence, except for the radio playing, and his soft moans now and then. I pulled into the garage, and we got out of the car, and I walked and he staggered into the house. We settled in the den, and he slumped onto the couch and I was in the side chair. He did his best to remain attentive, but I could see that he was really wrecked.

    "How about a cup of coffee?"

    "Yeah, I probably need that"

    I got up and went to the kitchen. When I got back, he was slumped even further, and was sound asleep. I welcomed the chance to closely check out this young body, and it was a winner. Picture a short body builder, but not the extreme kind, the white shirt opened a few buttons to expose the chest hair (blond), and some pecs that came out of the gym. The muscular legs splayed open and the tight pants showing some interesting bulges in all the right places. As I was scoping him out, the clink of the coffee cups stirred him awake. When he saw me standing over him, he scooted back into the sofa, adjusting his pant legs just enough to accentuate his 'package' nicely.

    "Sorry I fell asleep - I'm really messed up, I guess, I'm sorry"

    "Don t sweat it - by the way, what's your name?"

    "Uh, Mikey"

    "I'm Stan - here's your coffee".

    "Thanks-I'm sorry to be such a problem"

    "Relax, Mikey, I don't have to work tomorrow, so if you want to, you could sleep here tonight, there's plenty of room"

    "Wow, that's really nice of you - Maybe I should do that, instead of trying to face my mom with a buzz on"

    "Well, you really ought to call her, just so she knows you're OK - you don't want to worry her, right?"

    "Yeah, you're right, as much as I hate to call - what time is it?"

    "It's about midnight"

    "Oh, god,....... ah man,....why do I fuck up like this......oh, sorry for cussing.....You must have kids, huh?"

    "No, Mikey, I'm not married "

    "Oh......where's the phone - I guess I should get it over with"

    I brought the phone to him, then stepped away to give him some space. I went back to the kitchen to refresh the coffee, and tried my best not to listen. When I thought he was finished, I brought the two cups back again.

    "She agreed that I shouldn't try to drive if I've been drinking - I didn't have the guts to tell her I wrecked the car. I'll have to deal with that in the morning"

    He took another slug of coffee, but it didn't seem to be doing anything to sober him up. My nasty brain shifted into high gear.

    "Do you think taking a shower would help sober you up"?

    "Man, I need something - I still feel bombed out of my mind"

    "Well, the shower is through this way".....I led him into the small bathroom with the shower stall. I went in to the shower stall, and started the warm water running. As I came out of the stall, he was untying his shoes, then dumping the shirt, and stood up to drop his pants, but swayed toward me. I caught him, and steadied him as he unzipped, and just stepped out of them. His eyes were almost closed as he reeled from one side to the other. I held him steady, and he got his fingers into the waistband of the shorts, and without any hesitation, dropped the tighty-whiteys, and woozily stepped out of them. I was in hog heaven, eying this beautiful creature in my arms. He tried to straighten up, but it was obvious that he wasn't going to be able to stand up in the shower.

    I leaned him against the entrance to the shower, and told him to hang on. He did, and I quickly dropped my clothes so I could get in the shower with him. I was soon naked, and I pushed the shower door open, took hold of him again, and walked him into the flow of the water. His fogged brain accepted it all, and he allowed me to handle him. I tried to be good, but my cock refused to behave. It lengthened, the began it's upward stance much against my will. As the water cascaded down on us, he began to react to the freshness, and slowly 'came to life' again. I tried to turn him away from me so he wouldn't see my hardon, but he caught sight of it before I could complete the turn.

    "OH - Hey, man, Hey - you got the wrong idea! I ain't queer, man, I don't know how you got the idea, but I ain't like that"

    As he gained his balance, he strongly removed my arms and a look of panic crossed his face, and he repeated his statement.

    "Hey, dude, I'm straight, man."

    He backed into a corner of the shower, putting as much space between us as possible......which wasn't much.

    "Look Mikey, you may not be gay, but I am. I really tried not to have this happen, honest to god, man, but you needed help to stand up, and I was the only one around. I'm not going to molest you, kid, so try to relax, OK?"

    "Can I get out now?"

    I stepped aside to allow him past. He avoided my gaze, and seemed to sober up almost instantly, as he quickly moved out of the shower, and wrapped himself in a towel and started drying off as quickly as he could. He was still unsteady, and lurched sideways. I reached out to keep him from falling. It was then I noticed a big bruise on his chest, just under his tits. He winced as I caught him, and stepped back away.

    "That's a pretty nasty looking bruise there - I have some ben-gay you can put on it if you want to"

    He looked down at it, somewhat surprised. Maybe the booze or dope masked the pain before, but now, he seemed to feel it pretty strongly.

    "Aw, man, what else is gonna happen to me tonight? "

    He sat back down on the toilet, put his head in his hands, and for a minute I thought he was going to cry. He groaned softly, then pulled himself together. Putting his shirt on was painful, but he finally was dressed except for the shoes and sox.

    "Look Mikey, you're welcome to sleep here if you want to. I'm not going to bother you, if that's what you're worried about. It's up to you. I'll be in the den. When you're ready, come in there and let me know what you want to do."

    I figured my night was ruined in the worst way. Hot-looking, young, and straight, but scared. What a bummer. I sat down and took a sip of the cold coffee, and waited for him to make his decision. At this point I was ready to drive him back to where I found him and call it a night. He seemed to be taking longer than it would normally take to get dressed. I began to wonder if he fell asleep or something, when he finally came out.

    When he did finally come in, he was carrying his shoes and sox. He stood there for a minute, then sat across from me on the couch. He looked up for a second, then looked back at the floor.

    "I think we gotta talk."

    I wondered what was next.

    "I'm here, ready to listen - go ahead and talk"

    "The reason I freaked out in there was, well, I had something happen to me once, and it hurt like hell, and I thought for a minute that's what you were going to do to me, and I just flipped out. I mean, it ain't like I never did anything with another guy before. I mean not a lot, and I ain't gay or anything so I didn't want you to think I was one of those stupid skin-head kind of guys or something. I mean, like, if you just wanted to do some other stuff, I could handle that without freaking out, you know?"

    "Mikey, you have a way of confusing the hell out of a fellow, you know? You know I'm gay, and you know I got excited to be near you, and all that. Are you telling me that we could do something as long as it didn't hurt like hell? If that's the case, you know I'm ready, if you're sure about what you're willing and maybe want to have happen. Do you want to spell out what you can do and what you can't do, or what?"

    "Uhhh......this ain't easy for me to talk about, man. I guess as long as you don't force something on me, we could kind of figure it out as we go along. This ain't easy for me, man, I'm sorry I'm such a dumb-ass, It's just that you've been decent to help me out, and I well, you know, I could get into it, I think."

    I had heard all I needed to hear. I stood up, walked over to him, took his hand, pulled him onto his feet, and we headed for the bedroom. As we headed there, I patted him on that bubble butt, and asked him if that's where he got "hurt like hell".

    "Is that what you want to do to me?"

    "Yes, but I promise not to hurt you like hell. In fact, I promise to make you feel really good. I know a bunch of tricks and all of them will make you feel really good."

    "You promise?"

    "I promise with all my heart, Mikey, with all my heart."

    I kept my promise, and oh, god, am I glad I did - I've never been the same since and Mikey didn't hurt like hell. In fact, I think I made him feel really good, because he came back for more later on.


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