Date: Wed, 12 Jan 2011 19:48:56 -0500 From: wild wing <firstname.lastname@example.org> Subject: The Boy Downstairs - 2 I knew it would take no coaxing to get Randy to reappear the next evening. I heard his rap just a little earlier than the previous night. "Hi, is it okay to come up?" He hesitated a moment, smiled, and then as an afterthought added, "Please." I returned his smile and said, "Sure, why not?" As he sat down I told him, "I'm not cooking tonight but I presume you are hungry? "A little," he agreed. "What would you say to sharing a pizza?" "With the works?" he asked. "If you insist," I responded. With the greatest of care he enunciated, "Pull-eeaasse!" While we waited for the delivery Randy insisted on one of those wild music stations. It gave me a headache but I allowed him his way once more. Randy had one enormous stomach. While I was nicely into my second slice he was cleaning up the crumbs on his final slice. He then saw nothing wrong with asking if I was going to eat all of my share. I reached for a spatula to serve him another slice but Randy had a better idea. Before I realized his intention he reached into my plate with his long dirty fingers and yanked out a slice for himself. "Thanks Mr. Pitowski, I was hungrier then I thought." I was about to protest his crudeness when I realized I'd just been blessed with a thanks. I should be happy with small victories I thought and kept quiet. Randy continued to stare at the TV but occasionally spent time examining my crotch once more. There was sexual tension in the air. I knew Randy was there in the hope of getting another show and frankly the thought of it had aroused me enough that I was prepared to give him one. I was in no hurry though. I thought a little tease wouldn't hurt. Randy finally discovered a new choice of programming. It was as loud and as obnoxious as the first choice. I surrendered by retreating to the kitchen to clean up. A short while later I looked out into the hall and smiled. Randy had repositioned his chair so that he could see any move I made to the bathroom while he continued to gaze at the TV. I decided to tease him no longer. Even as I locked the bathroom door with the inside latch I could hear him rushing to the keyhole. This time I opted for undressing slowly allowing my organ to appear in stages. As it popped into full view I grasped it with my thumb and two fingers and began to jack. My arousal was already at a fever pitch and it would have been easy to climax. Instead I chose to extend the performance and let him have an even closer look. I stopped jerking and took my pants off completely. My erection leading the way, I strode over to the wash basin just three feet or so from the keyhole. I carefully stood in profile and filled the sink up with warm water. Taking the bar of soap I washed my cock from top to bottom in slow motion. At that point I distinctly heard a small moan come from the key hole. Again I had no intention of ejaculating but the lubricating action of the soap and knowing Randy was watching from inches away sent me over the top. I groaned out loud as a rope of ejaculate shot into the basin. I put one hand on the door of the bathroom cabinet to support myself as I finshed pumping out my juices with the other. I stood up and quickly cleaned up. As I reached for my pants I could hear Randy hurrying to beat me back to the front room. On returning Randy to say the least looked distressed. His cheeks were flushed and he was heavily into groping himself. "Are you okay?" I inquired. "You don't look well. Did you have too much pizza?" "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," he panted, "But can I use your washroom?" I smiled and pointed to the top of the stairs. He made a beeline for it and spent an extended amount of time in there. I chose not to take any chances by creaking my way to the keyhole. It wasn't hard to figure out what he was doing in there though. I turned the TV off in his absence. On his return I told him, "I have an important business meeting tomorrow. Do you mind leaving early?" "No I guess not," he replied, "But can I please come back tomorrow night?" I was pleasantly surprised. For the first time he was seeking a proper invitation to return. Unfortunately I had to disappoint him. "No you can't," I said bluntly, "Tomorrow is Friday and I go out Friday evenings straight from work. I won't be home before eleven o'clock." "That's okay," Randy smiled, "I'll come then." "What!" I exclaimed, "After eleven? Do you want me to get arrested for child kidnapping?" "My parents don't care. I'm always sleeping at my boyfriend's house. I never have to tell them." How sad I thought. No wonder he acts the way he does. I recognized however that I had to turn him down. I was beginning to recognize how sexually aggressive Randy was. Sleeping in the same room could easily lead to debauchery. He was just twelve and his father lived beneath my feet. It was too dangerous. "No I don't think so Randy, better you should sleep in your own bed." "Saturday morning then," he offered expectantly. His eagerness brought me to another reality check. This 'affair' was escalating far too quickly for my liking. I had to put the brakes on and I tried reasoning. "Look Randy you are eighteen years younger than me. We are not related. It wouldn't look right if we were to be seen together every single day." He shrugged his shoulders as he responded, "I don't care. I like you." I wasn't disarmed by that statement. I frankly wasn't sure at that point whether he 'liked' all of me or just certain aspects of my anatomy. Reasoning it seemed had no effect on Randy. I searched for a compromise. "Look, I'm very busy at work right now. I need to put in some overtime. If you still want to see me in about a week you won't have to ask. I'll just leave the door unlocked. Relock it as you come in. Okay?" Randy was all right with the idea and we parted company for the night. As it turned out I was even busier than I expected to be. The one night I got off on time I headed to my favourite eatery before going home. Only once did I find Randy on the steps as I arrived home. He said nothing but he sure gave me the puppy dog eye treatment. "Not tonight Randy," I told him. "Try my door on Monday." At least four times that weekend I heard him check my door. Each time I could feel his disappointment as his footsteps faded away. Nothing got accomplished at the office on Monday. I told myself over and over that Randy was not an essential part of my life. I was doing no more than helping a kid get over a few rough spots in his life. Yet I found myself whittling the hours away thinking of nothing more than the evening rendezvous. Worse still I was becoming progressively more aroused as the hour approached. I wondered how aggressive he might be if I gave him the opportunity. I decided to formulate a trap in order to find out. Fortunately he was not on the steps as I arrived. I left the door unlocked. Opening a beer I used it like a cologne and splashed some over my face. I left the half empty bottle beside me and added five empties for good measure. I turned the lights down, sat in the easy chair beside the bottles, and waited. Thirty minutes later I heard the door open and close downstairs. I went into a drunken stupor routine complete with some snoring and deep breathing. In the dim light my eyes were open just enough to be able to view the proceedings. Randy bounced into the room and then stopped short. He stared at me for a moment and then cried out, "Oh fuck!" He reached in grabbing me by a shoulder. "Mr. Pitowski, Mr. Pitowski. Wake up!" I continued to breathe heavily but I didn't budge. He stood there poised over me seemingly wondering what to do. For a moment I thought the plan had failed and contemplated whether I should pretend to awake. Finally he placed one hand high up on my thigh. Getting no reaction he tightened the grip and shook hard. Now seemingly satisfied that I would not wake up he placed his hand directly on top of my crotch. Getting braver he began to press harder and introduced a second hand. He was determined to find the outline of the shaft and to get a good grip on it. I was so damn hard it should have been obvious to him that I was no doubt awake. Looking back now I believe that it simply did not register. The heavy cloth and tight quarters were giving him problems and I wondered if at this point he might pull down the zipper. He did but it wasn't my zipper he pulled down. He took a step back and standing directly in front of me, pulled down his own zipper. I opened my eyes a little wider. I couldn't help it. By this time he was so totally involved in his own abuse I thought there was little chance he would look up at my eyes. He reached in and crudely pulled out his full erection. It was perfectly proportioned and adequate in size for a boy about to enter his teenage years. And here it was just inches from my face! He held it steady there for a moment or two with just a finger and thumb allowing me to fully scope its perfection. Light purple veins decorated each side of the shaft. His helmet flared out nicely and I noted two small ridges forming perfect lips around his piss slit. It took all of my resolve to remain an observer instead of a participant. He reached up and undid the buttons above the zipper. Now he pushed his pants and underpants down below his knees on one motion. He took another step back, turned slightly and then purposely fell backwards into an adjoining chair. He slouched back and closed his eyes, his legs stretched out directly in front of him as far apart as possible. Grasping the shaft firmly he began to pump at a feverish pace. There was no sophistication to his technique at all. He needed to get off and the quicker the better. He soon got his wish. He arched his back off the seat and cried out his climax. A small burst of clear semen shot from his piss slit and landed on my carpat some three feet in front of him. He sat up but continued to pump. Two or three more drops fell to the carpet below. "Oh shit!" he exclaimed breathlessly. "That was fuckin great!" Standing up he didn't bother to clean himself up or the carpet either for that matter. He unceremoniously stuffed everything back in and pulled up his zipper. He walked over to me and groped my crotch once more before spinning and disappearing down the stairs. Before I even heard the door close I was extracting my own member. I was so damn hot, like Randy, I went to it. I erupted in seconds in wave after wave. I sat back contemplating whether I had crossed the line. I was still confident that Randy was totally oblivious to my awareness of everything that had occurred. I concluded I was safe and fell asleep wondering just where the sexcapades were heading. I would soon discover Randy had a surprise for me.