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    JLynch
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

All My Dreams Pass Before My Eyes - 27. Chapter 27 Kaito

September.

Wielding the sharp Ginsu knife, Kaito trimmed the leaves and the roots off of the negi and threw it into a basket. The familiar aroma of sweet and bitter wafted from the basket of Japanese vegetables, often mistaken for leeks.

A pleasantly crisp fall morning in Astoria, Queens. He didn’t exactly relish this job at the Orange Blossom. But, he didn’t exactly have a choice. It was his family’s grocery store, after all. He much preferred the catering side of their business. The parties were much more fun.

Outside of the periodic sojourns to other parts of the New York area or a rare trip further like the one last summer to Montauk, Kaito felt like he lived in a Japanese bubble. Virtually all of the store’s customers were Nihon-Jin. The neighborhood streets and restaurants were populated mostly by Asians of all stripes. As a child, Kaito remembered gazing with curiosity into the windows of passing cars at the strange looking white people.

His thoughts were momentarily interrupted when his father yelled for him to bring another crate of konnyaku from the basement.

“I’m on it, Poppa!” He yelled back.

Kaito’s father gave him a dirty look. Just for fun, he often spoke in English, just to annoy him. He’d been fluent since he was a child, quickly picking up the language on the streets, learning it and using it more formally in school.

Pretending he didn’t understand English was his own little private game. As he grabbed the crate of vegetables that resembled potatoes, he smiled at a memory from last summer. He’d easily tricked that cute boy into thinking he didn’t understand a word of what he was saying. In fact, he understood everything.

Boys. The object of his fascination since forever. His favorite masturbation fantasy at the moment was Timothée Chalamet. Kaito would often lay in bed, his fingers wound around his cock, imagining Timothée’s body smothering him, his legs wound around his body, gripping him as his beautiful circumcised cock violated his ass. He had to be circumcised, Kaito thought. After reading everything he could about the actor, he learned his mother was Jewish. That meant he was almost surely circumcised.

Before Toby-San, it was just his small group of friends in the neighborhood. An older bigger boy, Ren, was their leader. Four or five of them would regularly gather in Ren’s fenced in back yard for ritualistic sex games. That’s when he first became aware of how lovely his own body was.

Smooth brown skin devoid of any moles or marks. Wide face, full lips, a fragile neck. Brown nipples on his flat chest, a tight stomach, hip bones that jutted out below his narrow waist. Perfectly round little ass, a small brown penis that fit his small frame until it swelled and grew, thick and outsized. A cute set of diminutive nuts hung neatly below. He let his hair grow out, much to the chagrin of his parents. Well over his ears, a thick mop of black hair that covered his forehead and part of his eyes. He’d spent countless hours practicing sexy looks as he peered through his hair into the bathroom mirror.

The other boys couldn’t get enough of him and Kaito couldn’t get enough of them not getting enough of him. He adored the attention. One of Ren’s favorite games was to strip Kaito in front of everyone, lead him to the fence on one side of the secluded yard, and tie his hands high over his head to the wire mesh. Ren ravished Kaito with wild abandon before letting the other boys have their way. Kaito went with it, of course. Writhing this way and that, thrusting his hips forward to push his cock into someone’s mouth, gasping at the licks and nibbles showered on his nipples and armpits.

When he first came upon Toby, laid out so enticingly on that chaise lounge, he was completely speechless. That beautifully pearl like skin, small pink nipples, pink lips to match, his long dark hair, almost like his, but different. Pale blue eyes. Because he was unable to talk, it made it easy to establish the ruse that he didn’t speak English.

Kaito found every excuse he could to be near that boy. Serving him breakfast was one of the most erotic things he’d ever done in his life. He could hardly breathe as he methodically fed him bits of salmon. At the party, he could barely do his job because his eyes were glued on Toby’s every movement.

Nearing the end of the party, heart pounding, Kaito scribbled his room number on a scrap of paper and gave it to him. The perplexed look on Toby’s face was so cute it made him feel faint. Fond memories of the amazing sex they had later that night frequently gave him a tingle.

Even though he desperately wanted a real relationship, the obstacles preventing it were daunting, the least of which was that he was in New York and Toby lived way down in Georgia.

Standing off to the side with the other catering managers, Kaito watched Toby as he was being trotted around from one group to another.

He hadn’t noticed him until he was already upon them. A big guy, someone big enough that he almost blotted out the sun. Probably 6’2,” towering over Kaito. Massive shoulders, big hips, thighs like tree trunks. A wide face, a bit of stubble as if he hadn’t shaved for a couple of days. Short, messy blond hair, a deep voice.

Dirk was dumbstruck. It was as if Cupid’s arrow had pierced his heart. He first noticed him out of the corner of his eye when he was introduced to that cute kid, Toby. After he got sick of the football banter, he broke away from some groupies and sauntered over.

“How ya doin’?”

Kaito just bowed his head.

“Nice party.”

The boy just stared blankly at him. It suddenly dawned on Dirk that he might not speak English. He pointed to his own chest.

“Dirk.”

The Asian boy bowed his head again.

“Kaito.”

“Nice ta meet ya.”

Kaito bowed his head.

Dirk shrugged, feeling himself blush. This was really awkward.

A man standing next to Kaito, another Asian man, asked, “Can I help you, sir?”

Dirk shuffled from one foot to another as he looked alternately at the man and at Kaito.

“I was, ah, wondering, if I, umm, could get Kaito’s number.”

Kaito and the man exchanged several words. Japanese? Mandarin? Dirk couldn’t tell. The man turned to Dirk, briefly bowing at the neck.

“Ok.”

Kaito reached into his back pocket, bringing out a small notepad and a stub of a pencil. He quickly scribbled his number and his email address, tore the paper out of the pad, and presented it to Dirk, extending it forward with both hands, holding it between his fingers. He quickly bowed his head again.

Dirk had no clue what he should do next. He took the paper from Kaito, looked at it, turned his eyes back to Kaito…and bowed his head. With that, he burst into an uncontrollable bout of giggling as he tried to cover his mouth with the back of his hand.

The first call came the next day. Kaito didn’t take it, though. Back in Astoria, he was too busy unloading one of the trucks. Later, he listened to Dirk’s awkward message, stumbling all over himself as he simply asked for a return call.

He kept Dirk waiting for a couple of weeks, in spite of the phone calls and emails. To be honest, Kaito told himself, he was afraid of him. He was so big! His size both repelled and attracted him. But, an overwhelming urge to be taken, to be crushed, held down, manhandled, made him so excited he got shivers down his back.

When they finally connected, Kaito continued the ruse, pretending not to understand Dirk’s advances, Dirk trying to figure out what to say, relying heavily on Google Translate. All the while, Kaito lay on his bed, lightly stroking his cock, fantasizing about being totally wrapped up in this brute’s arms.

Today, Kaito had just finished helping an elderly lady carry her groceries out to a waiting cab when he got an email.

“Come to campus for the game on Saturday. Please, please, please. I want you to watch me play. Maybe we can hang out after.”

Kaito sighed, looking out in the distance, thinking. A smile came over his face. Ok, kareshi.

His parents thought he’d totally lost it.

“You’re going to an American football game?” His father asked in astonishment, in Japanese, of course.

“Yes, Oto-San.” He was going to add, “Get over it.” But he couldn’t bring himself to be that disrespectful.

The noise in and around the stadium was deafening. After picking up the ticket left for him at the box office, he somehow found his way to the seat in a section that was apparently reserved for parents, family, and VIP’s. He found himself seated next to two people who were obviously Dirk’s parents. He looked just like his mother. They both looked at him curiously, Kaito nodding seriously, his hands between his knees.

The atmosphere was like a wild spectacle. There must have been eighty or a hundred thousand people in the stands. Bands played, cheerleaders jumped, and everyone roared when the teams ran onto the field. He only knew Dirk by the jersey number he wore, number fifty-two. As the game progressed, it became clear Dirk was a major star for the defense. Pushing players down, wrapping his arms around the legs of opposing runners, twice making it to the quarterback and throwing him down.

Kaito couldn’t help himself. When Dirk made yet another great play, he jumped up and yelled, his arms thrown over his head.

“Do you know our son?” Dirk’s father leaned across his mother to ask.

Afraid to speak, he just quickly bowed his head and nodded.

After the game, Kaito waited outside the team’s locker room, trying to make himself look as inconspicuous as possible. One of the last players to exit, Dirk was immediately mobbed by several fans, quickly breaking away to greet his parents. After talking for a couple of minutes, he hugged them both, and they left. He must have had a sixth sense that Kaito was there because he came right over.

Using crude hand signals that were so hilarious Kaito was barely able to refrain from bursting into hysterical laughter, Dirk invited him to his frat house.

When they got to Kappa Sig, the jock house on campus, the victory party was in full swing. Sloughing off most of the adulation, Dirk reacted to the back slaps and congratulatory yells with grunts and mumbled thanks. Grabbing a couple of iced cold beers from the horse trough set up in the frat’s living room, he gestured for Kaito to follow him upstairs to his room.

Sitting on his bed, Dirk took his usual position, his back against the headboard, He took a long draw on his beer, swished it around in his mouth, and let it slide down his throat. Kaito just stood there, letting Dirk’s wanton gaze travel up and down his entire body.

Unconsciously, he gave his right bicep a quick squeeze, then dropped his hand to his crotch where he gave his cock another squeeze. Both hands around the neck of his t-shirt, a quick grab, and it was off. He scratched an itch that spanned his chest and both nipples.

Kaito brushed the hair out of his eyes, staring back at Dirk, a serious look on his face.

“Ummm…would you?”

Dirk was unable to say it. Kaito probably wouldn’t understand him anyway. Instead, he just pointed at Kaito’s chest.

Tentatively, Kaito brought a hand up to the top of his shirt and pushed the top button open. Dirk’s eyes were glued to what he was doing, a hazy smile on his face. Kaito hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should continue, but mostly to allow the tension to build. His hand went to the next button. And the next one. In a few seconds, his shirt was completely open. He didn’t sweep it open right away. He just let it hang there, a narrow section of his chest and stomach showing.

It was only after his shoes, socks, and pants were off that he considered whether or not he should remove his shirt. Dirk, eyes fogged over, just looked at him as he sipped on his beer. Padding over to the bed, Kaito thrust his hips forward, the curve of his cock pushing against the front of his briefs. Dirk leaned forward, brushing Kaito’s cock with the back of his knuckle.

With a groan, Kaito shrugged his shirt off.

The sex that followed could only be described as wild. Every possible position, mouths and tongues attached to each other’s various body parts. Dirk had Kaito’s legs pushed over his head as he furiously licked his asshole and thighs before plunging his dick into him. Kaito had never been pounded like that. It wasn’t Dirk’s size. His dick was actually kind of small. It was the intensity.

“Ah. Ah. Ah.”

With each thrust, Kaito half sighed, half groaned. The sound was like an aphrodisiac. Dirk just thrust his hips forward even harder. In between, they kissed deeply. At first shy, Kaito only opened his lips a little, finally giving way so that Dirk could wash his tongue all the way around the inside of his mouth. Even after they both orgasmed, they couldn’t stop clutching and grabbing at each other. Dirk nipped and licked Kaito’s nipples. The pain and pleasure were overwhelming. It seemed to go on for hours.

Kaito laid back against the bed’s headboard, softly running his hand through Dirk’s short curly hair. Dirk swooned. Everything about this was heaven.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” Dirk purred, his eyes closed.

“Me, too,” Kaito replied in perfect English. “I think I now have a boy friend.”

Dirk jerked up, a shocked look on his face. They stared at each other for several seconds before they both broke up into hysterical laughter.

 

 

 

 

Copyright © 2024 JLynch; All Rights Reserved.
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Thanks for reading this story. Comments and criticism will greatly be appreciated. You can comment on this site or send me an email: jacklynch945@proton.me.
Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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