The author retains copyrights to the story. Please do not distribute it to any newsgroups and/or other web-sites without permission of the author.
- Take a moment and send me an email, I'd love to hear from you.
I'm at: studiesinbrown@yahoo.com- All messages are privately screened by me, Chris Carr, and cordially responded to. Thanks!
By Chris Carr
The coffee shop crowded, I opted for a seat outside. As I
navigated around tables of business attired people, I finally found a table near
the back that wasn’t occupied. Coffee, pastry and computer in hand, I quickly
took a seat.
As my computer started I took a few sips of my coffee.
Perusing the tables, I saw little to nothing to distract me, most of the patrons
my age or older. It was why I frequented the place. The last thing I needed was
a bunch of cherub faced cuties to distract me and today, more than ever, the
invoices piling up.
My computer finally started, I dove in, opening applications, the work at hand consuming me. By mid-morning I’d really made headway, the crowd thinning some. Returning to my table with my third cup of coffee, I was taken aback by the cutie sitting there. Several other tables free, I wondered why he’d chose my table.
As I approached, I noticed him looking at my computer. He glanced up as I moved my chair, his eyes slightly alarmed.
“Sorry.” Moving to stand he paused, a smile spreading across his face. “Hey, you’re…”
“The guy that cleans your pool?” A moment’s hesitation, he pushed his glasses up his nose, as if distracted.
“Yeah,” He said, shaking my hand. “I was just checking out your computer.”
We both looked at my computer, his eyes studying it with some admiration. “Cool Ipad!”
“Ipad 2” I added.
“For real?” Truly impressed, he sat down, gazing at
the slim tablet computer. “So you’ve got FaceTime?” I nodded, sipping from
my coffee. God this boy was cute, I mused, something I’d never allowed myself
when I was working at his house.
“Wow, I’d really like one of these!”
“Why haven’t you got one then?”
“My mother’s giving me grief about my grades. She says I’ve got ‘enough toys’, yada yada.” His face reflecting his frustration, he placed extra emphasis on “enough toys”, mocking his mom’s voice, I’m sure.
"If I get a summer job, I hope I can get it myself,” He added, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Mind if I check it out?”
“Sure,” I said, moving the computer towards him.
“Wow, all this time, you had an Ipad.” He marveled, clicking on apps. “Oh cool, Talking Tom!”
Quickly opening the app, he leaned over the computer. Amused, I watched as he made a quick sound file.
Instanly playing the file I listened to his voice, comically augmented by the program. He laughed, fully amused as I watched, admiring this adorably charming boy.
Fully engaged, he held the computer up, speaking in low tones.
"I did NOT have sexual relations with that woman!" The comical cat on the app said.
We talked a little longer, his endearing affectations tugging at my heart strings until finally I happened to look at my watch. Time of the essence, I informed him I had another client.
“Cool talking with you,” He said, shaking my hand again. Just as I stood to leave, he added,
“Hey, if you’re not too busy, can I get a ride home?” I hesitated, my heart pitter pattering at just the thought of this shorts-clad youth in my company.
“If it’s out your way, it’s ok,” He said, idly shuffling from one foot to the other.
“No, it’s not that. It’s just…” With one final look at his cute, upturned nose, I finally relented. “It’s cool. Com’on.”
“Hey, I don’t remember your name.”
He glanced at me, a slight smirk on his face. “
“You don’t remember?” I shook my head. “My birthday? By the pool?”
A memory of a disgruntled boy flashed across my mind. “Oh yeah…the magician.” The memory rushing back, I recalled an unhappy little fella, sitting on one of the patio chairs near the pool. I’d stopped by to flush the filter and check the chlorine level. A little surprised the boy was by the pool, I asked what was wrong.
“Samuel got a magician at his party and all my friends went there,” He sulked.
A smile spreading across my face, I remembered asking him
his name and trying to comfort him. His friends were apparently inside eating
cake but
“
Wow, had I been working for the Thomas’ that long, I pondered, regarding the older version of that boy seated in my car.
“Man, that must’ve been 3, 4 years ago,” I accounted.
“Three and a three quarter.” It’s funny how kids count ages in fractions. My insides stirring, I imagined the boy seated next to me was a lot more mature than that boy I’d consoled years ago.
“Bet you don’t remember my name,” I taunted, hoping to distract myself.
“Mr. Copeland,” He beamed.
Impressed, I tried remembering where he might’ve heard my name. Figuring he’d probably heard it from his mom, I still marveled at him remembering someone so insignificant as the pool guy.
“So where we going?” He inquired, breaking my thoughts.
“This house in
“Cool.”
...Several thoughts running through my mind, thankfully we were at our destination. Quickly jumping out, I made my way to the back of the truck. It wasn’t until I’d grabbed my equipment I noticed he was just getting out the truck. His attention still on his shorts, I was certain my eyes were playing tricks on me. Taking another quick glance at his groin, I could’ve sworn I noticed a small lump there. Grabbing the skimmer and a few more things, I made haste to the back yard.
I was setting up when he finally joined me. Busying myself with my tools, I quickly set up a pH test kit.
“Whatcha doing?” He asked, standing over me.
“I need to test the water’s pH level.”
As he stood idly by, I decided I could use his help.
“Hey
“Ok,” He said, picking up the long handled skimmer.
As I worked, I chanced a glance at the handsome youth.
Somewhat gangly, his arms were slender, struggling to catch up with the growth
spurt his body was no doubt going through. Still, his physique was well
proportioned, the promise of the young man he’d soon become just beneath the
surface.
Dipping my kit into the water, I drew a sample for the
test.
Startled, the boy’s eyes grew huge. Dropping the
skimmer, he knelt at the side of the pool, desperately reaching for his glasses.
I stood, the whole thing going down so fast, I didn’t even have time to warn
him before he tumbled into the water!
Running around the pool, I saw him plunge under the water,
his glasses in tow. “
“Hey, I think we better get you out of those wet clothes,” I counseled, the boy actually shivering now.
“But where am I gonna get some more?”
Standing, I thought for a minute. A big part of me preferring him naked, I opted against that.
“I think there’s a blanket in my truck. You get out everything except your shorts and I’ll go get it.”
“Everything?”
“Well, at least take those wet shoes and socks off,” I said, heading for my truck.
When I returned I was greeted by a scantily clad boy, my
heart jumping into my throat. His scant chest exposed, he shivered in the cool
shade of the back yard. I was so taken by his exquisite beauty I forgot he
needed the blanket. From his sweet, baby soft soles to his pert, boy nipples,
the boy was delectable. It took everything in me not to sweep him up and devour
him from head to toe.
Gathering myself, I rushed to him, throwing the blanket about his narrow shoulders. He thanked me, pushing those elusive glasses up his nose. His wheezing greatly diminished, he soon warmed up.
“Bet you don’t think I’m so cute now,” He said,
glancing up at me.
Patting him on the back, I replied, “Why would you say that?”
“Because…” He gestured at his wet form.
“Because you’re all wet?”
Shaking his head, he seemed rather uncomfortable communicating the meaning of his statement.
“What is it?” I prodded, rubbing his shoulders.
“Skinny, nerd boy,” He finally muttered.
“Not even,” I countered, rubbing the back of his neck. “Told you, I think you’re damn good looking.”
“Even with my shirt off?” He looked up at me, his eyes expectant. I smiled at him, helping his to his bare feet.
“I hope this doesn’t gross you out but I think you’d look good even if you had NO clothes on!”
I pat him on the back, then rubbed his close cropped head. He smiled, pushing his glasses up his nose. A small smile breaking across his face, he muttered,
“Thanks,” following me to my work kit.
Finishing up my test, I couldn’t help admiring his
exquisite bare feet, the boy standing idly close. God, what I wouldn’t give to
pop one of those in my mouth, I savored, admiring his cute boy toes.
Quickly skimming the rest of the pool, I escorted the
chilled boy back to my truck. We drove in silence for some time,
“Mr. Copeland?” Pulled from my revelry, I looked at him. “You meant what you said?”
“About you being damn good looking?”
“No…the other thing?”
His attention suddenly on his feet again, he gazed at them, as if bracing himself for what I’d say. How was it a boy so stunningly beautiful had gotten such a warped sense of himself? Was it all the taunting at school? His mother? His sister? Studying him for a quick second, I imagined a number of guys wouldn’t find him their type, the tide usually swayed towards the beefier, jocks or harder looking “thug” types.
“
“So….does that mean you are gay?”
“Would it matter if I was?” He shook his head, water droplets flinging from his hair.
“Then what do you think?”
“I think you’re fucking hot as hell!” He hooted, and suddenly threw his arms about me, pecking me on the cheek.
I found his company charming and enchanting, the boy’s
thirst for knowledge endearing. At lunch we’d stop for a burger,
“What if everybody had to go naked?” He posed, one day. Looking around the food court we were lunching at, immediately my imagination was ignited, several boys about the mall I’d like to see sans clothes.
“But not everyday. Like… only on Fridays.” Sipping on his soda, he’d hardly touched his burger, nibbling idly on his fries as he chatted. I wondered where he was going with this but said nothing.
“No clothing Fridays,” He declared, popping a fry in his cute mouth. “Then we could come to the mall and not even get dressed.”
Looking at me, he smiled that toothy grin, a satisfied look on his face.
“Does this mean you want to be naked with me all the time?”
“Sure!” A frown on his face he quizzed, “Why are people so uptight about being naked?”
“Well… I seem to remember a little fella that was rather uncomfortable taking off his clothes.”
He shrugged, “Yeah…” Popping a lone fry in his mouth
he slurped from his soda, deep in thought. “You helped me with that though.
Everybody should be cool about being naked like you helped me.”
I couldn’t help laughing, the boy’s innocent freedom refreshing. “So, no clothing Fridays, huh?”
“Yeah!”
“Ok, this Friday, we’ll start,” I said, lifting my soda. He bumped his cup against mine and we smiled at our secret acknowledgement.
![]()
No sooner he’d entered my house, he kicked off his
shoes, pausing for a minute as if contemplating, then reached down and pulled
his socks off. As I gazed at his lovely feet,
“You like my feet huh?” Caught, I slowly nodded my head. “Kinda figured, the way you were looking at them.” The li’l devil had spied my secret fetish!
“When was I looking at your feet?”
“That day I fell in the pool. When I was watching you work, you kept looking at them.” He smiled, wiggling his lovely toes again. “Actually, I kinda picked up on it when you made me take my shoes and socks off.”
“You were all wet,” I defended. “And you acted like you didn’t want to take your clothes off.”
“It’s cool Mr… I mean, Blake.” Pausing for a minute, his face clouded, eyebrows knitting together. “Can I just call you Mr. Copeland? Calling you Blake just doesn’t feel right.” I chuckled, understanding his dilemma.
“Ok,
“Cool! And it’s no biggie if you like my feet. I kinda like it.” He raised his foot towards me, wiggling his toes again. Weak, I approached him, lifting his leg higher. Bending towards his foot, I kissed his big toe. He watched with a curious gaze as I deigned to lick his desirable toes. Not wanting to alarm him, I satisfied myself with just one pass across his toes.
“Feels good,” He said, raising his other foot. As I lifted his leg for access, I noticed a bulge in his shorts. Thrilled beyond all measure, I couldn’t believe he found my silly fetish erotic.
Licking more openly at the toes on his other foot, I
noticed him removing his shirt. No longer shy around me, he casually tossed it
aside, his lithe chest rising and falling. Reaching up, I seized the obvious
growth in his shorts, provoking a delighted sigh. Squeezing it, I appreciated
its hardness. Kneeling before him, I lapped happily at his toes,
In sheer nirvana, I indulged myself, my fondest fantasy
finally realized. Happily licking up his petal soft soles I suckled his dainty
toes. He moaned, as if I’d slipped his hardness in my mouth, his dick at full
mast as I extracted it from his clothing. Slipping my hand up his rock hard
inches, his toes curled atop his wrinkled soles, much to my delight. He had me
kicking on all cylinders, the boy absolutely perfect in every way.
Slipping the rest of his clothes off his beautiful feet, I
passed my hands up his slender legs, caressing his lithe shins, over his scrawny
knees, up his thighs to the inside, en route to his erect missile.
I still couldn’t get over how smooth he was. Save the
light fleecing of downy soft hair above his ankles he was completely hairless
from his glorious toes to his pint sized nipples. The dash of hair above his
anxious tool scant, his inner thighs were smooth as a baby’s, even his
dangling boy balls practically bare. That he could produce the amount of semen
he did both thrilled and surprised me.
Breathing audibly, the boy regarded me openly, the fire of desire in his eyes. Taking him by the hand, I lead him to my bed, his anxious boyhood dancing in front of him the entire trip.
Lying between his legs, I toyed with his drum tight balls, caressing each excited orb. My hand traveling down, I fingered his perineum. He exhaled loudly, his dick springing upwards. Muscles reacting about his groin, his balls pulled tighter while his perineum contracted. Breathing loudly, his toes wiggled as I diddled his soft groin, my finger moving closer and closer to his pin tight hole.
“Oh, Mr. Copeland,” He gasped, my finger tracing
around his hole.
Raising his hips higher, he thrust his hole at me. The
idea the boy may want something so inconceivable as me fucking him sending me
into a near frenzy, I stilled myself. Moaning and writhing, he seemed on edge
with desire as I diddled his dainty hole. Unable to contain myself I threw
caution to the wind, lifted his smooth legs and dove between them to assault his
hairless hole.
Writhing uncontrollably, his teen voice rose high, his
small hole dancing on my tongue. Savoring the inexorable delight of boy ass, I
lapped greedily at his portal, quickly wetting it. Raising his smooth bottom
higher,
His precious toes wiggling and curling,
“Mr. Copeland can we have sex?”