Jersey Boys

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 STORY BY Don Abruzzi   

 ILLUSTRATIONS BY Michael Kirwan   

  

Originally published in Playguy magazine - November, 1991

 

Hot, horny and slightly dangerous ...
_____


Sometimes there doesn't even have to be a full moon. New York is the kind of town where it seems a perpetual lunar glow makes strange things happen almost any night--regardless of the climate or the time of month. As soon as I came out of the subway at Fourteenth Street, I knew it was one of those nights. Right at the corner, for starters, a bag lady of seventy or more was taking a shower. She had no water and no soap, but she was totally naked under the Greenwich Savings Bank sign, scrubbing herself as nonchalantly as though the passing traffic on Sixth Avenue was only something on TV in another room.

A little further up the block, a fistfight was in progress, between a totally spaced-out drunk in rags, and an ultra-conservative, young exec type in a Brooks Brothers suit. Apparently the drunk had pissed on--or somehow otherwise infringed upon the sanctity of--the suited one's car. A flashy Buick. "Start my car! Try and start my car!" the young hotshot kept yelling to an overdressed blonde in the passenger seat. "See what this sonofabitch did to it!"

While he jab-danced back and forth at the weaving drunk, his girlfriend started the ignition and the engine turned over immediately. The car was fine, but this didn't discourage him from still trying to knock the drunk flat on his ass. The suit wanted to fight. As I passed the scene, he suddenly stopped pummeling the bum and glared at me as though I were next. I stepped up my pace immediately, rushing by him with that see-nothing, know-nothing look on my face that twenty years of life in the Big Apple gives you.

I turned at the corner. The safety of my apartment was only a few steps away. But the sound of the melee around the corner was getting louder and wilder. I wouldn't have been at all surprised if there were serious bloodshed soon. But in a few more minutes it wouldn't matter--I'd be safe behind my own locked door and barred windows, and all that hassle would be just "background noise."

I was within a few yards of my front door when I heard the sound of a high-powered car come around the corner, then suddenly slow to a crawl behind me. A horn honked, but I kept walking. My heart was beating a little faster now and all my defense mechanisms clicked into gear. I was glad I'd decided to come home from the bars early that night, without tying one on. The way things were going, I might need all my wits about me before I was home.

"Hey, fella!" a voice called out from the car. "Hey, you! Mister! Hold up a minute, huh?"

At first I thought it was the fighting yuppie who'd followed me. But when I looked around, I saw a totally different car and driver. This one was a late model Camaro, hunter green, and the driver looked like a kid just out of high school. Against my better instincts, I stopped.

"Can I ask you somethin'?" the kid said. He was cute, in a fresh-faced way. About eighteen or nineteen, I guessed.

"What d'you want?" I asked.

"I'm--uh--really embarrassed about this," he said, "but me'n my buddy here are tryin' to get back to Jersey, and I don't think we're gonna have enough gas to make it."

As my initial fears subsided, I felt a little more at ease and responded to the stranger-in-need syndrome. I should have known better, after twenty years of living in Manhattan. But there was still a drop or two of human kindness left in me. Especially for a cute young blond.

"There's an all-night gas station on Seventh Avenue," I told him. "About four blocks uptown from here. If you just make a right when you get down to Eighth--"

He cut me short. "That's not the problem," he said. "We--uh--we're kinda short on cash. Could ya help us out with a couple bucks ...?"

I don't believe this, I thought. Now I've seen everything! Panhandling from a car! The moon had to be full.

"Forget it, pal. I can't spare a dime."

The car moved slowly alongside me as I turned away. "Please, mister?" the kid yelled after me. "Even a buck?"

I was getting mad now. I stopped and glared at him. "What did you come into the city for, if you knew you didn't have enough money for gas?"

He smiled and shrugged his shoulders. "We had plenty of bread when we left home, but we got rolled down in the Village."

"Yeah. Sure."

"No, I sweartagawd. A couple a girls picked our pockets while we was dancin' with them. Bitches took every buck we had. Ain't that right, Joey?"

"He's tellin' you the truth, man," the other kid in the car called out. "That's just what happened."

I bent my head a little to get a better look at him, then almost did a double take. The kid was gorgeous! About the same age as the blond driver, he was even better looking. But in a dark, almost sullen way. He had the street-tough-yet-sensitive look of Matt Dillon in those first few movies. The same beautifully sculpted nose and lips. The flashing dark eyes. And a mane of thick, curly black hair under a turned-around baseball cap.

I'm not usually into guys that young, but this one was a wet dream come true. He was something I could really go for in a big way. The kind of kid I'd always wanted to blow when I was in high school, but never got the chance. The young punk type, who hung out with the "wrong" crowd, rode a motorcycle to school, and was always getting into trouble.

"I'd really like to help you out, guys," I said, starting to soften in response to so much beauty. "But I'm ... afraid I can't." I turned and opened the gate at the bottom of my stoop. The blond called after me.

"Wait a minute! Hey! Can I talk to you, sir?"

Sir! I thought. I didn't need to hear that! In my mind, I still thought of myself as no more than a few years older than these two. I don't think any gay man really has a mental picture of himself that resembles in any way that little shop of horrors he sees in the mirror each morning. We all like to think of ourselves as forever young and desirable. Still passing as Peter Pan. Now I know I'm over forty, losing my hair, and battling with the crows who determinedly stamp their feet around the corners of my eyes while I'm asleep. But I didn't need that kid reminding me of it with this sir business.

He got out of the car and hurried towards me. I stepped quickly to the other side of the gate and held it between us, just in case there might be trouble. At least I knew I could yell for help if I had to. There were lights on in all my neighbors' windows.

"My name's Jeff Carson," he said, offering hrs hand. I hesitated before taking it, then found his grip surprisingly strong. "If you'd like to see some I.D., I've got my driver's license with my picture on it ..."

"That's not necessary ... Jeff," I said. The kid and his pal in the car were both so damn cute I'd almost decided to break down and give them five or ten bucks. Just for the hell of it, whether I was being conned or not. I could afford it. I'd have easily dropped that much at the bar if I'd stayed there another hour.

But just as I started to reach in my pocket, he stopped me cold with his next remark.

"You're gay, aren't you?"

"How the hell did you know that?" I asked, without thinking. Then I realized: plaid shirt; tight, faded jeans; close-cropped hair and a beard and moustache. What else would he think I was? Especially in the Village.

He gave me that million-dollar, toothpaste grin again and shrugged easily. "I've been around. I can tell."

"So what's it got to do with anything?" I asked, on the defensive.

"Hey, don't get me wrong," he insisted. "I can handle it, man. In fact, I'm glad you're gay. I was hopin' you would be."

I looked at him suspiciously. "Why ...?"

He stepped a little closer and lowered his voice. "Cuz I wanna make you a deal. I know you won't believe me if I tell you I'll mail you the money back, if you gimme your address. Right? Okay, maybe after tonight I won't trust anybody no more, either. But here's the deal I wanna put to ya. If you got ten bucks you can spare so we can get home, you can blow my buddy Joey."

My eyes popped so wide it's a wonder they didn't fall out of their sockets. "What?" I gasped.

"Ya like 'im? He's not bad-lookin', an' he's got a real big one on 'im. Ya like to suck big dick?"

I gulped so hard I almost choked. I couldn't believe this was happening! He was actually offering me his friend that hot young Dillon look-alike ... for gas money! "Are ... you ... serious?"

"You got ten bucks?"

I nodded my head slowly up and down. "I got it."

"Then I'm serious. Is it a deal?"

If I hadn't been so horny, I never would have even considered such an outlandish proposition. It was too crazy to be real. But I was so hungry for some hot cock in my mouth that night, I couldn't even think straight. I gulped and took another quick look at the boy in the car. He was far hotter than anything I'd seen in the bars. On the off chance that this whole deal was on the level, I'd be a fool to pass it up.

"Ya wanna do him or not?" Jeff asked.

Thinking with my dick instead of my common sense, I told him, "Sure."

He smiled and stuck out his hand for the money. But I wasn't that dumb.

"Afterward," I said. "When it's over. I'm still not sure I believe all this."

He shrugged. "Hey, either way. Now or later. Don't make no difference to me. Maybe once you get a look at what Joey's got, you'll decided it's worth twenty!"

"All right," I said. "Why don't you pull the car down the block and park. We'll do it there." No way was I taking those two up to my apartment. I liked the few valuables I owned, and wanted to keep them.

He nodded. "Fine with me. But there's just one thing ..."

"I should have figured there'd be a catch."

"Nah, no catch, man. It's just that ... Joey's cherry. He's never had his dick sucked by a guy before. I'm gonna have to talk him into it. You mind waitin' a few minutes before you get in the car?"

Was he kidding? For a taste of that dish's sweet young meat I'd have stood on the stoop until moss grew around my feet! But as Jeff went back to the car and I watched him drive slowly down the block to a parking spot, I started having serious second thoughts about the whole thing.

What was I getting myself into? It was the most absurd situation I'd ever heard of. Even for a full-moon night. For all I knew, they might've had a gun in the car. Or a knife. The whole thing could have been a set-up to rob me, once I'd been stupid enough to get into their car. Or maybe even worse. I'd heard stories ... And was it worth risking my life just to get into that kid's pants?

At the exact moment I was about to turn and hurry up the steps to the safety of home, Jeff honked his horn. I saw him leaning out the window, motioning for me to come to the car. Against my better judgment, I walked down the block and got in the back seat.

Both kids were staring straight ahead through the windshield. Nobody spoke. Nobody moved.

"Well?" I said, wondering whether this was the point when they'd pull the gun out and turn it on me.

"Go on, Joey," Jeff muttered. "Get in the back with him."

"I don't see why I gotta do it," he protested. "It's your fuckin' car that needs the gas, ain't it?"

"And whose idea was it to pick up those two sluts who robbed us?" Jeff snapped back. "Let's pick up those two!" he said, mimicking his friend. "They look like they'd give us head!" he taunted. "Okay? You satisfied? You see what I told you about pickin' up strange pussy? We got robbed, and it's your fault. You wanted head so bad, now hop the fuck back there an' get it!"

"I didn't want it from some jag, for Chrissake!" young Matt Dillon whined.

"What's the fuckin' difference? A mouth's a mouth, ain't it? You close your eyes an' you won't even know who's doin' it to you. You won't even care. I bet this guy's a great cock-sucker. Am I right, man?" He turned to me.

"I do my best," I answered modestly. Words couldn't begin to describe the blow-job I planned to give that hot young stud, if I ever got the chance. "But I don't have all night, guys. Make up your minds. Do you want the gas money or not?"

Jeff punched his friend hard in the arm. "Get outta the fuckin' car, Joey, an' get back there with him. You better do it, man. I'm warnin' you."

"I'll do it," he spat angrily, "but I won't fuckin' like it."

"How d'ya know, Joey? How the fuck do you know, till you try it?"

The kid slammed the front door hard and stood on the street a moment, lighting a cigarette, before getting into the back seat with me. He sat with his legs close together, staring straight ahead and puffing relentlessly on the cigarette. I slipped my hand across the seat and touched his thigh.

"Don't be scared," I murmured. "I'm not going to hurt you. It's going to feel great; I promise you."

"Awwwhhh, shit!" he muttered. "Do I gotta let him do this to me, Jeff?"

"Shut up an' let 'im!" the blond barked back.

I dropped off the seat and scrambled into a position on my knees in front of Joey. I put my hands on his calves and slowly stroked up and down the lower part of his legs, feeling strong muscles through the tight jeans. He let me do it for several minutes without responding. He just sat there, tense as a coiled spring, and smoked. But when my hands tried to go in the other direction, toward his crotch, he jerked his legs together and tried to push me away.

"If I'm going to suck it" I softly reminded him, "you've got to let me touch it."

His Adam's apple bobbed hard as he swallowed. The next time I pressed between his legs, he let me part them and inch my fingers up to the center of his crotch. I made contact with his cock. A nice-sized bulge, but completely soft. I reached for his fly and pulled the zipper down slowly. Then I opened his pants and tried to lower his undershorts. He stopped me.

"You don't have to pull my gawddam pants off," he grunted. "You want my fuckin' dick, I'll take it out for you."

He fished through the front opening of his crisp white jockey shorts, struggled for a moment, then jerked his cock out through the hole. His balls and his bush were still completely covered with only the soft length of his dick outside the fly. Like he'd pulled it out to take a piss.

I honestly can't say I was very impressed by what I saw. No more than a few inches of soft, cut cock lay across the cotton front of his shorts. The head was rosy-pink and smaller than the limp shaft it capped. One of those cocks that are fatter at the root than they are at the tip. But not much more than a mouthful, I thought with disappointment. Worth about as much as I was paying for it; no more.

I'd expected a real throat-stuffer, from what Jeff had told me. I guess most straight guys don't have much experience judging cock size. Big is relative to what you're used to seeing. And Joey's was a real let-down, at least to me.

Still, I knew I could get off on the rest of him. That incredibly handsome face. His trim, firm body. His straightness. His youth. It was all more than enough to get my juices flowing. The fact that his dick wasn't as big as I'd hoped was only a minor setback. With so much else going for him, I was still eager to give some good, hot head.

I reached for the limp length of cock and lifted it from his shorts. His body tensed with apprehension as my mouth came closer. I flicked out my tongue and ran it slowly down the shaft. There wasn't so much as a tremor of response.

Generally, I've found, it helps a guy to get hard if I lick on his balls for a while and play with them in my mouth before going for his cock. But Joey was determined to keep his nuts inside his underpants. He brushed my hand away when I even tried to fondle them.

Okay, I thought. We'll skip the preview and go right to the main event. Holding his cock up, with my hand around the base, I slipped my lips over the head and put it in my mouth.

"How's it feel, Joe?" his friend called back. I realized that he must have been watching us through the rearview mirror, to have known just when I'd started to suck.

"Feels like I got my dick in a fag's mouth, you asshole!" the hunk spat back. "How the fuck d'you think it feels?"

For quite a while I was afraid the whole thing was going to be a total washout. I wasn't getting any response at all hom Joey's dick, not matter how hard I tried to bring it to life. He wasn't getting turned on by anything I was doing to him.

I tried the gentle approach, barely touching his prick with my lips as i fed it in and out of my mouth. Zero. Then I tried a more vigorous attack, actually jacking the lower half of his dick with my hand while I nursed on the tip like a hungry piglet at suppertime. And that's something I never do. I've always felt it's cheating to use your hand when you're giving a blow-job. If you can't get the guy hot and hard with your mouth alone, you shouldn't be sucking cock in the first place.

But even that didn't work. Joey seemed determined to resist my every effort to get him stiff. After a good ten minutes of trying, his prick lay as limp against my tongue as it had when I first put it in my mouth.

Then, completely by accident, just as I was about to give up, I found the magic button. As I was pulling my lips back off his cock, the very tip of my tongue brushed against the piss slit and I felt an instant tremor of response ripple down the shaft.

Ahhhhh-ha, I thought with sudden encouragement. So that's what you like!

I held just the head of his cock in my mouth and began to flutter my tongue across the hole. Again I felt the shaft twitch back at me. More than that, it finally began to swell up and get harder. He really liked his piss-hole played with! The more I tongued it, the stiffer his prick got. And to my surprise, what I'd seen before was not, by any means, all I was going to get. He was coming up big. Real big, just like Jeff had promised.

They say good things come in small packages, huh? Well this kid was the living proof. I'd never seen such an unpromising cock soar to such incredible proportions. In no time at all, I was having trouble taking the whole thing in my mouth. The shaft just kept growing and growing and growing. The more I sucked, continually rubbing my tongue-tip in and out of the deep slit, the fatter and longer and harder it got.

 



He was mine now. All I'd been waiting for was the chance to show him how good a blow-job I could give. And now that he was fully erect and ready for it, I went to work.

A deep, shuddering groan from Joey's throat startled us both. You'd have thought I hurt him, judging by the cry he made. But I knew it was just the opposite. Like it or not, he was giving in to the pleasure that my hot, wet mouth was showering on him.

"Whatsamatter, Joe?" Jeff asked.

"Nuthin'!" he gasped. "Mind your own fuckin' business, huh?"

"Startin' to like it, bro?" Jeff laughed.

"Get outta the car, man! Huh? What do you gotta be here for anyway? Get the fuck outta here an' lemme alone, huh?"

"Yeah!" Jeff teased. "I told you you'd like it, ole Joe!" He opened the front door and got out of the car. I could hear him laughing as he slammed the door.

As soon as we were alone, with his friend no longer a witness, Joey gave in to me completely. Not only did he start to thrust his hips up from the seat to meet my hungry mouth, but his hands gripped the top of my head and shoved me up and down on his cock, holding me in a tight grip, stopping at the places where he wanted special attention from my tongue.

He made low, groaning noises in his throat. His thighs slowly opened and closed in a rhythmic pattern of excitement. He drove the big, fat shaft of cock deep into my mouth, then pulled it slowly back out through my lips, until just the head was between them.

"Lick the hole some more," he muttered, his voice so low I could barely understand him. He seemed afraid Jeff might hear him and realize just how much he was enjoying my blow-job.

Quick to respond, I tongued his piss slit with furious little stabs. And as the tip of my tongue dipped in and out of that flared honey hole, I swore I could taste the first sweet trickle of juke starting to bubble up.

I reached down to spread the fly of his jockey shorts further apart, and got my first glimpse of his woolly tangle of black crotch hair. I pushed my face deeper, rubbing the end of my nose in Joey's thick jungle of pubic bush. My lips were stretched wide around the fat root of his cock. I hoped a few loose hairs would find their way into my mouth, to be plucked out later as souvenirs and sucked on while I jerked off, reliving this fantasy-come-true.

There was a sharp tap against the rear window. "Hey, Joey!" Jeff called. "Come on, huh? Don't take all night over it! We gotta get home, ya know."

I'm positive the kid would have been good for at least another five minutes, if Jeff hadn't butted in. I'd been building a nice, steady rhythm with his cock. Sucking him right to the brink of release, then slacking off and letting him ease down for a moment or two before starting the climb again. And he'd been in no hurry, either. He liked everything I was doing to him and didn't want it to end any more than I did. But now there was outside pressure on him, and Joey gave in to it.

"I'm gonna cum!" he gasped. His hands squeezed hard around my head to keep me in place. His breath was ragged, rasping in short, sharp bursts of tension and excitement. "Stick your tongue in my hole! I'm gonna shoot!"

If I said that first wad of his was so strong it blew the tip of my tongue right out of his slit, I'd be exaggerating--but not by much. A thick, hot burst of teen spunk fired out of him with such force that it hit the back of my throat like a pellet, then dropped onto my tongue in a heavy glob. I gulped twice to swallow it, knowing if I didn't get it down quick I'd be choking on the rest. Any guy who pumps that much cum in the first jet has got a gusher still to come, and Joey was no exception.

I sucked furiously on the pulsing tip of his cock-head, milking it hard, savoring every drop of delicious cream. And knowing it was a cherry load made it all the sweeter. Rich, hot, and potent. A load I'd dream about for years.

I drained him completely before I even thought about letting his dick slide out of my mouth. and even as he tried to put it back in his pants, I kept covering it with kisses.

"That's enough," he muttered. He looked down at me with a confused expression on his face. I knew that if it really had been his first blow-job from a guy, he was probably struggling with all sorts of new and conflicting emotions. Especially since it was obvious how much he'd liked it.

He shrugged and gave me a half-smile. "Thanks, huh? It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be ..."

Well, even a backhanded compliment was better than nothing. I knew what he was trying to say. I squeezed his leg. "My pleasure, champ. I'm glad you enjoyed yourself."

He nodded. "Yeah. I ... I did." He reached for another cigarette and looked away from me. I got out of the car.

I took a twenty from my pocket and handed it to Jeff. "You were right," I said. "It was worth twenty." And then some!

"Let Joey see you gimme the money," he whispered, "but when I shake hands with you in a minute, I'm gonna pass it back. Don't let him see you, though. Huh?"

I stared at him in confusion. "I don't get it. You're going to do what ... ?"

He shrugged. "I don't need your dough, man. Joey don't know it, but I always keep a couple twenties in my shoe whenever I come to New York. Just in case; you know? Like for an emergency? An' besides, with the favor you just done for me, I should be payin' you!"

I hadn't a clue what he was talking about, and it showed on my face.

"This idea just kinda came to me while we were drivin' around," he explained, "but I've been tryin' to get Joey to let himself get blowed by a guy for almost a year now. I just wanted him to check it out. Ya know? See if he liked it. I figgered that if he got used to the idea of another guy doin' it to him, then maybe ..."

He shrugged again, with a nervous smile, and looked away.

It took me a few moments to catch on. To read between the lines and see the whole picture. But then it dawned on me, and I finally understood what had really been going on back there in the car.

"He likes it a lot when you tongue around the piss-hole," I said softly. "It really gets him hot."

"Oh, yeah?" Jeff reached out with a handshake and passed back my twenty-dollar bill. "Thanks, man." He gave me a quick wink, knowing that I understood. Then he sprinted around the Camaro, hopped in the driver's seat, and the boys headed back to Jersey.
 

THE     END

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Any images, writings or other content on this website may be copied for personal viewing only.
They may not be: redistributed; sold; altered; enhanced; modified by artificial, digital or computer imaging;
used on another website or blog; posted to any internet or computer newsgroup, forum or media sharing site;
nor used for any other purpose without the express written permission of the artist or KirwanArts.com.