serving-a-rich-boy-1

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Subject: Serving a Rich Boy (Adult-Youth or Authotarian) Disclaimer: The following contains explicit scenes of male sex and a variety of consensual activities. This story may not be copied or posted to any other websites without explicit permission from the author. If any of this content is offensive to you or illegal to access in your geography, please do not fty//gay/adult-youth/helping-mr-brown *** feedback always welcome to ail *** I trudged up the long concrete driveway to my boss’s mansion. I didn’t have a car, and the last 500 metres were always the hardest. It was sweltering hot, and as worn out as I was as I struggled the last few steps, I knew it was all worth it. I had no other job. I had no other skills or talents and was single and living alone. This job paid better than anything else I could possibly study for, and I had no intention of changing any time soon. I wouldn’t call it hard work or anything, but I couldn’t exactly put it on a future resume either. I stayed because my employer was wealthy and because I was rewarded so fondly. The job could be demeaning and even uncomfortable at times, but it paid the bills, that is for sure. The mansion was massive, fitted with all the latest modern conveniences and technology; it really was quite a marvel. It was lived in by a boy and his father, though I seldom saw him, only having spoken to him during the interview process. It was his boy who I was really here for, and was expected to look after. That said, it was really the boy who was in charge. I opened the large oak door and entered the cool, air-conditioned home. “You’re late!” His young voice called from within. The voice belonged to the 8-year-old son of the person who paid me; paid for looking after their “pride and joy” boy, who delighted in the fact that I had to do whatever he wanted. I was less of a babysitter and more of a servant, and I was expected to follow a strict routine, one that the boy had come up with himself. “Sorry, Sir.” I replied. “Traffic was horrendous. And the heat from walking over was almost unbearable. ” I made my way over to his usual place. He was slouched in his large recliner, looking over a gigantic 80-inch television screen. Sometimes he would play on his PlayStation or his Xbox, but today he was just relaxing, watching some afternoon cartoons. “Traffic? You don’t even have a car! “he scoffed. “I took the bus today, sir. I didn’t want to walk all the way in that heat. ” “Haha, a bus? I thought you were meant to be a grown up! Ugh, enough of your excuses, get and do your job. ” “Yes, sir.” It was always like this. His dad paid my wages, but it was his son, Liam, who I took most Çorum Escort of my orders from. He knew exactly what our relationship was, and he knew I couldn’t do without this job. Luckily for me, though, he was a cutie. Yeah, I said it. He might have been only a kid, but there was something about him. I’m not sure if it’s his confidence or his dark hair and smooth, innocent skin, but I find him very attractive. He is dark and handsome, much like a younger version of his dad. He’s a confident boy, a good-looking boy, and he knows it too. I sat myself down on the floor in front of him while he watched his shows. I looked up at him. He had a smirk on his smooth, immature face, a face he always wore when he upheld his power over me. He knew what I had to do next, and he always looked forward to it. He was a hot kid. And as laborious as the job could sometimes get, it always made me horny to serve him. My first task was to take off his shoes and socks. Even though he wore fancy designer shoes and 100% cotton socks, they were still the feet of an 8-year-old boy. If he had just been in a classroom most of the day, the pong from his toes would have been more subtle, more musty. Today, I think he must have been running around in the field for a while, because his feet were extra sweaty and grimy, their stinkyness hitting me like a truck. With his shoes and socks off, the sting of his feet penetrated the air, his creamy white toes wriggling in their newfound freedom. I stared down at his moist little toes, resigning myself to the next part. Liam has a very specific way in which he likes me to do the next part. First, I have to deal with his toes, and then, second, I deal with whatever I might find in between them. There is an order in which he likes it to be done, ensuring that I both taste his feet thoroughly and that I continue for as long as he wants it to take. I opened my mouth wide, lowering and letting his biggest grungy toe enter my mouth. When I begin, he always inhales a deep breath, and every now and then I notice a slight shift in his shorts, his own little boy bone getting excited about what was to come. The salty, slippery taste of his big toe radiated in my mouth, his cheesy, stinky feet right in my field of vision. Liam liked me to just stay like this, with his single toe in my mouth, my breath and saliva slowly dissolving any of his daily boy sweat, essentially cleaning him with my spit alone. I could wipe my tongue around it and suck it, but I had to do it firmly. If I held back at all, he would become ticklish and get mad that I wasn’t doing a proper job. Once I repeated this task for each individual pink Çorum Escort Bayan digit, then I could work on the soft flesh between each toe. He expected me to use my tongue and burrow it between each one, cleaning out any of the grit and grime or boy toe jam hidden between them. Each valley of delicate flesh had its own spices and odors, and his feet squirmed in pleasure every lick of the way. After serving each toe and every corner of his feet, I would look up at my master with hope. If he gave me a sign, I could finally stop. If not, then I had to start all over again, back with the first toe. Sometimes he will have me lick his smelly feet for half an hour before he has me stop, by which time all of his toes are thoroughly soaked from my mouth. Sometimes just once is enough, but sometimes I can be required to repeat the ordeal 3–4 times before he is satisfied, my mouth tingling and sore with his foot funk. “Ahh, that tickles!” he squealed when I wasn’t quite licking hard enough. “Sorry, sir,” I muttered, returning to my task with more care. Liam’s penis would always grow hard as I served him. It was hard to miss, particularly if he was wearing thin summer clothes. His cocklett would get stiff inside his shorts, and it was only a matter of time before he couldn’t take it any longer. I knew he was probably wearing his trademark jet-black boxers, and as he dug inside, I noticed today was no exception. I had seen his young penis before. He had a 3-inch hard nail within, a slim, narrow tube of meat, which on previous days he had no issue taking out in front of me. I watched him as he gingerly played with himself, using his fingers to tease and rub himself. He was hairless, of course, and still a long way from puberty, but even at his age, he knew what felt good. He knew having a slave like me got him hard for some reason, and he had no modesty about playing with himself in front of me as I served him. “What would you like to do next, sir?” I asked, as I watched him touch himself. “Help me with this,” he said, gesturing to the rigid shape confined within his clothes. Licking his feet was all worth it for the moments I got to play with his body for real. This, along with the money, is why I kept this job. This boy was so sexy to me, and quite often he would let me play with his cock. I knelt besides him, helping him pull his shorts down slightly. I had learned from previous experience that I dared not ask him to completely remove his boxers until he was ready. His young penis flicked up into view, hard and ready for pleasure. It wasn’t really big enough to wrap my whole hand around; my adult-sized hand was Escort Çorum much too large and clumsy for his growing member. He liked me to use just my thumb and index finger to carefully peel back his foreskin as far as it would go, unsheathing it about half way down his cock head. His hyper-sensitive glans inside glistened reddish pink and were sticky with boy-dew. The hot flesh between my fingertips stood proud and stiff, our own little secret moment together. His body tensed and trembled as I touched him, squirming with pleasure as I fondled his penis. While he was much too young to cum yet, he could get as hard as diamonds. It was a special moment where, for a brief time, it felt like I had at least a little control over him. “Rub my balls some too…” Liam sighed with content. His little narrow legs and his boxers still on made it difficult to put my whole hand in there, but I found with three fingers I could place them between his thighs against his ballsack within and rub his young testes inside. “May I suck on it, sir?” I suggested. “It looks so juicy.” “Yeah… go on.” He crossed his arms behind his head and closed his eyes as I took his slim stem into my mouth. Immediately, my mouth became flooded with his flavours, those of a hot young boy. His pure sweat smell rose up from his groin, the sugary sweet taste of his cock juice seeping from his slit, and the hint of pee from earlier in the day. I also got a waft of cologne, no doubt trying to impress his friends with something that an 8-year-old need not be wearing so soon. His whole body moved around in his seat as I suckled him. He writhed and moaned in his 8-year-old tones, his hands grabbing for anything to hold onto. His cocklett danced from cheek to cheek inside my mouth as I sucked and licked his organ, his face becoming pink and flushed. His hands came back down, clutching the arms of the chair, his breathing becoming deeper and heavier. Returning my fingers to his small sack, I held his precious marbles in my fingers, gently breathing hot air across his wrinkled skin. It always gave me a perverse satisfaction knowing that I was getting a little 8-year-old kid off. “Does that feel good, sir?” I asked dumbly, his eyes still closed in bliss. He jerked suddenly, his cock suddenly throbbing and twitching. Of course, nothing came out, but the whistling and humming and gripping were all signs he had reached his limit. I knew when he came, I could always see it on his face, his lips and cheeks contorted and overwhelmed. Eventually he opened his eyes, glazed and dreamy, staring back at me. “Upstairs.” He puffed. “Now it’s your turn.” I swallowed hard. My “reward” for a good job was now having him play with my own. No, he wasn’t going to be sucking me, but he would expect me to cum for him. As he marched me upstairs, I felt a pit in my stomach, wondering what he might have in store for me. *** feedback always welcome to ail ***

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32