Liotta Lad Pt. 01
This had to stop. Dan was going out of his mind. On the the far side of the depot his Boss’s 19 year-old son was stacking boxes and looking fit as fuck. Dan had a shameful boner most of the day watching the kid bend over, flashing the white cotton of his Calvin’s under his dark blue work shirt.
Stefano sensed he was being watched and turned about with his dimple smile, “Alright?”
“Yeah,” Dan lied, his heart collapsing like a neutron star.
How was is it even possible for such a cute boy to exist. You’d never guess it judging his parents; Two hunchbacked, grouchy Sicilian shopkeepers with bad eyesight and crooked teeth. Maybe the good genes just skipped a generation or three? But here was this olive-skinned Adonis with dark curly hairs on his belly and a neat bulge in his joggers.
Dan tried to snap out of it. Imagine if the Boss saw him staring like that! Everything about this infatuation was stupid and immature. Nothing good could possibly come of it. He was a thirty-eight year-old, stocky, tattooed heavy-metal fanatic, whose best days were clearly behind him. What would a bright, carefree straight teen ever want from him? Didn’t stop him dreaming though.
He wanted to put one hand under that polo shirt and the other down in those pants to grab at what he imagined would be a fat, medium length, circumcised penis and big round boy balls. He’d tear away those Adidas fleece-pants and after sucking on Stefano’s delicious teenage dick, he’d fuck his peachy ass. The lad’s work shirt would be soaked through with man sweat by the time he was done with him. Anyway, that was Dan’s everyday wank fantasy before he dragged himself into the shower each morning.
He’d never even had sex with another guy before. Dan played straight most his life. He’d even been married to a girl he knew at school. It didn’t last. About two years back he finally accepted the truth, but felt like he totally missed the boat and wasted his youth. He though he was still cute, maybe, but he was getting fat and old, and he lacked the confidence to try dating apps or visit the bars.
And now he’d developed this pathetic crush on a teenage boy. He felt pretty contemptible. Lonely and sad.
They loaded the truck and pulled away.
Dan knew this round like the back of his hand, it hardly changed in seven years. The same tomatoes, the same olives, to all the same doors. The maraş escort only thing different was Stefano Liotta. He’d watched him grow from a shy school boy into a smoking hot young stud. And now his exams were out of the way, Stefano’s brief window of time for aspirations and dreaming was at an end. He enjoyed his graphic design A level, but the shop was the only future his Dad would ever allow him.
He made the boy don the company shirt and join the ranks to shunt crates around in warehouse. Dan got away with never wearing one. No one challenged him about it. He preferred a white vest that would show his tattoos and keep him cool. He always thought the company polo looked dorky, but now that Stefano was wearing one, it seemed specifically engineered to drive him wild.
A navy blue polo with yellow trim on the collar and the family name stitched over the heart. The teen looked fully peng in it, slouched in the passenger seat with his knees up on the dash board, checking his iphone and chuckling at his whatsapp.
“Dominic is such a fucking gay boy!” Stefano snickered, hurriedly punching some lame wisecrack into the thread.
“Oh yeah, which one’s Dominic?” Dan asked, trying not sound too interested or jealous.
Stefano didn’t reply. The phone had his full attention. He answered a quick call from his girlfriend Alessandra with the kind of disinterested one-word acknowledgments that only a heartthrob could get away with. The world rumbled by.
It was a beautiful day, earliest summer and Friday to boot. With their deliveries done and dusted, Dan drove to the same spot they always went whenever they had a few moments to skive; A country lane two minutes beyond the suspension bridge, with a stunning panorama of the city below. Even a sneaky half-hour up here was bliss. After parking in the lay-by, Dan twisted the radio dial and threw Stefano a beer. They sat in silence as they drank, Dan’s mind an agonising carrousel of sweet fantasies and unspoken desires.
“I got to take a piss,” the boy suddenly declared, sliding from his seat and leaving the passenger door wide.
Stefano’s absence was a greater torture than having the nonchalant lad by his side, and Dan threw himself back in despair, entertaining grim thoughts of getting a new job and moving away.
As he sighed, Stefano reappeared in his wing mirror. The maraş escort bayan boy had gone behind the truck where he could pee innocently into the hedges and (standing in splendid full-length view) yank his dick out of his trackies. Dan told himself he wouldn’t look, for the sake of decency and to spare himself the pain, but regardless his eyes fixed firmly on the image in the reflection. He held his breath as he watched the arc of glittering piss tumble in the open air, pumping hot juice.
With a sudden thump on the dashboard Dan gave into his most reckless impulses and climbed out the drivers seat. What was he going to do? He didn’t know himself.
Standing shoulder to shoulder with his crush, he fumbled to get his own fat cock out and water the plants. He directed his stream to crash with Stefano’s, making the lad snicker in amazement. The boy responded in kind, wiggling his willy to create new effects in the clash of torrents.
“Don’t cross the beams, Winston!” he misquoted before sneaking a peek and checking his Buddy out.
Dan caught him staring,
“You seen my big dick?” he smirked.
“I’ve seen bigger.” Stefano lied.
“No you haven’t!” Dan glowered.
Stefano finished up and packed himself away.
“Hey, hold up!” Dan persisted, cramming his jeans and chasing the lad down, “No you haven’t!”
Now he had the boy in his arms, and before he even knew it they were kissing. Passionate and hungry, groping at each others curves, their two hearts punched up against one another with all the frenzy of a secret love set free.
Stefano’s dimples, his dark skin, his white panties; all of him cradled at last in Dan’s loving arms. The boy moaned with rising delight.
He’d been concealing pretty thoughts about the Big Guy ever since he learnt to tug on his little boner. Dan’s dirty smile and sparkly eyes, his chunky arms and tattoos. His stubbly chin, his spicy pits, his lovely voice. He hadn’t dared to dream that Dan might feel the same way, but as the Grown Man closed his fingers around Stefano’s balls, he gave into the bliss.
Dan might not have touched another boy before, but he knew exactly what to do. He knew exactly what he wanted. Pushing Stefano back against the truck, he dropped to worship his teenage dick; to be the first to drink from it.
He yanked the lad’s Calvin’s down escort maraş his hairy thighs and paused to take in this vision of the divine. Stefano’s penis was perfect, chubby and pink, standing about four inches hard and just exactly as he’d always pictured it.
Brushing his face up against the shaft and closing his lips over that rubbery glans, Dan rolled over and over it, delighting in every shiver he provoked. When his mouth was fully flavoured with the boy’s delicious precum he lifted himself to snatch new kisses, and let him share the awesome taste of his own bellend.
Stefano’s head was spinning. Dan’s warmth and the smell of his body, the firm grip of his rough hands made his dick so hard it hurt. Like some new kind of heaven it overwhelmed him. His loins trembled with such a mad electric ascension that all his senses buckled to the oncoming orgasm. It felt so good just letting it all shoot out, spraying Dan’s tonsils with his boy-jizz. He went weak at the knees as his Buddy gulped it down.
The real world returned to them in waves, heralded by the buzzing of their phones on the dashboard. They were supposed to be back at work forty minutes ago.
“You made us late!” Dan gasped, getting to his feet.
“Me!?” Stefano panicked, pulling his joggers back up.
“Why are you so naughty? Your Dad’s gonna be so pissed!”
Stefano was lost for words, completely unable to imagine a way to get himself out trouble. Would Dan really blame it all on him? Would he tell his Dad what they’d done?
“Just kidding, babe.” Dan grinned, only a little sorry about the guilt on Stefano’s face.
Then he opening the truck’s bonnet and slashed it’s knackered old drive belt with his penknife,
“Call your Dad back and tell him we’ve broken down. I’ll call the RAC.”
Dan could hear his Boss’s hectoring, nasal voice blasting out on Stefano’s phone, clearly totally exasperated with the delay. Then the RAC switchboard beeped into action on his own mobile and he rattled off the details of their spurious breakdown. When these calls were done, Dan turned to look his teenage mate in the eyes.
“He didn’t like it,” Stefano shrugged.
Still burning with wicked lusts, Dan could keep from teasing,
“He’s right to be cross. You’re a naughty one.”
“Shut up,” Stefano laughed, perhaps a little nervously.
Dan was burning up inside to ask Stefano about what just happened. If he liked it? If he wanted to do it again?
“Hey Stefano…” he began, but just then the recovery guy showed up and the question went unspoken. He’d find the right moment to bring it up again before the end of the day.
Most definitely to be continued…