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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 - 2. Chapter 2 The Lake

August. A year ago.

Naked, gasping, the cum about to burst out of his cock. Carey was surrounded by a bunch of old men. His eyes circled the room so he could see the hungry expression on each man’s face. Clenching his eyes shut, he saw a guy he knew from school who was the recurring star of his masturbation fantasies bent over a bed, his legs spread wide, his ass open wide for him. His dark hole beckoned.

At that moment, he came. The first shot of spunk hit the bathroom door, the rest falling in globs on the tile floor. When his cock was completely drained and his respiration was returning to normal, he came back to Earth.

Just turned eighteen. 5’10,” 140 pounds. Slender bordering on skinny. Fair skin indicative of his Anglo-Irish-Danish-Scottish-mutt background. Light brown hair, kind of taupe-ish, cut short and neat, parted on the side, slightly over the ears, short bangs. Brown eyes. Fine features. A wider nose but still not very big. Thin lips. Narrow square jaw. No beard. In fact, hardly any body hair at all except on his legs. Fine boned like a swimmer although he was hardly that.

Since graduating from high school, Carey Sterling decided to step back from most social interaction. What was the point in getting involved with anyone? His acceptance to a select university in the city meant life was going to be a lot different once he left town.

Gay? Or not? A small number of random encounters with both girls and other boys left him confused. The questions churned away in his brain. He spent some time perusing the long list of LGBTQIA organizations on campus to see if any of them were a fit for him. Nothing resonated.

Like before, he searched his mind for some answers. Gay, bi, or straight? Visions of both men and women, boys and girls, filled his mind when he masturbated. A daily exercise at a minimum, most often like now, just after he showered. He found it necessary to be naked when he jerked off. There was something about it, perhaps a vulnerability, that heightened the experience. Maybe it was a throwback to his childhood experiences.

Today, even after he came, he still felt a need. Digging in the bottom drawer of the bathroom vanity, he brought out an old hairbrush and a bottle of lube he’d hidden there. Laying on his back, legs up in the air, he squirted some lube on the hairbrush handle, and pushed it into his ass. Grunting, he allowed himself to feel the pleasures of pressure and pain. What would it feel like to have a cock up there? He hoped it would feel this good and, if it hurt more, even better.

Just after graduation Carey came down with Mono. He spent nearly two weeks in a feverish headache like fog. Dry cough, sore throat. No fun, to say the least. After the bad headaches began to subside, Carey had to endure several more weeks of low energy and fatigue. He stumbled around the house in between long naps during the day and long deep slumbers at night.

When he felt up to it, Carey started taking some short walks. His doctor told him to go only as far as he could and still leave enough gas in the tank to get back home. The first two journeys were only a few blocks. Returning home, he collapsed on the couch.

“Whatta you lookn’ at?” The boy said with a sneer.

He looked up at Carey squinting through the greasy blond hair that covered most of his face.

He had encountered the boy on one of his more extended walks. Feeling better over the past few days, Carey’s walks took him farther from home. Just beyond his neighborhood, he walked along a tree lined boulevard with a grassy median separating the opposing lanes of traffic. Approaching an intersection, Carey crossed two lanes of traffic pausing briefly at the median where a homeless man and a boy were stationed at the traffic signal.

Wearing shabby looking clothes, the man held a coffee can and a cardboard sign that read, “Lost our home please help my family.” A small red cooler sat at his feet.

Carey had noticed him even before he started crossing the street. The boy sat on the ground near the cooler. Knees drawn up to his chest, his long straggly, dirty blond hair fell almost completely over his face. Once in awhile he would raise his head and look at a car or off in the distance. From what Carey could see, he had narrow almond shaped eyes, thin lips, and a small pointed chin. Not just thin; more like emaciated. Skinny arms crossed over his knees and his head face down into his lap as though he was sleeping. He wore faded and dirty jeans, a ragged striped t-shirt and dirty runners devoid of laces. In spite of the cloud of grime covering him and the scornful expression, Carey was intrigued. He seemed to possess a unique kind of unadorned beauty.

Embarrassed by getting caught staring at the boy, Carey dropped a quarter into the man’s coffee can and continued walking across the street.

“Thank you,” the man mumbled.

Feeling stronger and more invigorated, Carey took a walk to a nearby lake a few days later. The asphalt path wound its away around the lake in a pleasant manner, touching the lake shore in spots, winding back through woods in other areas. As he walked the trail, he noticed a barely visible narrow dirt path. It led off through thick foliage in the direction of the lake. Pushing bushes and low hanging tree branches away he trudged down the path for a couple of hundred feet until it opened onto a small clearing facing the lake.

Carey looked around. The spot was completely secluded from view on either side. The small lake was void of any activity. He sat on the trunk of a fallen tree and took a deep breath.

For the first time in weeks, he thought about sex. The image of a large black cock pressing itself into his ass gave Carey an immediate erection. His fingers brushed lightly against the front of his jeans. In his fantasy, a faceless Black guy’s naked hips thrust forward as he punched his cock into Carey’s ass.

Checking to make sure no one was around, Carey pulled his shirt over his head. Standing up, he kicked his shoes and socks off, followed by pants and underwear. Completely naked, he took his throbbing cock in one hand, caressed his chest with the other, and began to masturbate.

Facing the opposite shoreline, he was energized by being outside without clothes on. Using long luxurious strokes, Carey pulled on his cock. Alternately, he pushed it up against his stomach and ran the heel of his hand up the shaft while cupping his balls with his other hand. With his fingers again wrapped around his cock, he used his other hand to cup his breast and two fingers to lightly pinch his nipple. Then, he sucked his index finger into his mouth, wet it with saliva, and brought it back to his butt. He leaned forward a bit, felt around for his anus, and after finding it, pushed his finger hard into his ass. Just like that, he felt it coming. Rather than squeezing his eyes shut, he looked down and watched the cum spurt from his cock in several long streams. The spunk made splashing noises as it hit the dead leaves under his feet.

Exhausted, Carey slumped back down to the ground against the tree trunk and allowed himself to slowly slide to the ground. He closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep.

Cold and damp. Carey wrestled himself awake. Day was turning into night. Groggy and listless, Carey grabbed his clothes, got dressed, and made his way to the main trail. After he returned home, he nibbled on some cheese and crackers. Utterly spent, he fell into bed for the rest of the night.

Carey woke up from a dreamless sleep the next morning with a strong erection and bathed in sweat. He immediately jerked off into his underwear before he got out of bed. A bit later, twirling his spoon in his breakfast cereal, he thought about the experience at the lake. It was another nice summer day, a good one to return to his newly discovered private spot.

That afternoon, Carey left his house with a single thought in mind. He walked steadily to the trail around the lake. As he rounded a bend, his pulse quickened as the small dirt path appeared. Looking ahead and behind him to make sure no one could see him, he ducked off the main trail. Repeating his route from the previous day, he soon found himself at the same spot with the fallen tree. Pausing for a moment, he chuckled when he looked down and saw a used condom laying on the ground next to the tree trunk.

Glancing around to make sure he was alone, he pulled at the top button of his shirt. Shirt and shorts were off in an instant, shoes kicked off, and underwear yanked off. Now naked, he closed his fingers around his stiff and throbbing cock.

Just then, he heard a rustling sound behind him followed by the muffled sound of voices. In a panic, he grabbed his clothes up in one fell swoop and ran for the cover of a dark thicket of bushes and low growing trees nearby. His heart thumped. He tried to hold his breath, fearful of being discovered.

As Carey peered through a narrow opening of thick branches, a guy appeared. Oh yeah, Dirk. A guy who had been in Carey’s class. Polar opposites. Dirk was big, square, all muscle. The starring middle linebacker on the school’s football team. Destined to be a future star at the same school Carey was entering in the fall. Sandy hair, kind of wavy. A square face with a trail of acne along his cheeks. He wore off white shorts and a colorful muscle shirt.

Following Dirk, hidden from view for a moment because he was so much smaller, was the kid from the boulevard. Still wearing the same clothes as the day before, the same kind of dusty, dirty look about him, his face more visible but still partially obscured by his long hair. Skinny, maybe 5’6.” How old? Hard to tell. He looked to be fifteen or sixteen but maybe that was because he was so scrawny looking.

Once they had stopped by the fallen tree trunk, Dirk ducked his head here and there as he looked carefully to see if anyone was around. Carey pulled his face back into the shadows to make himself even more invisible.

Carey couldn’t tell what the two were talking about. After a few verbal exchanges, Dirk dug in his pocket and handed the kid a small wad of money. The boy took it and swiftly stuck it in the pocket of his jeans. Stepping back, he undid his worn belt, and in one fell swoop, dropped his soiled worn jeans and underwear to the ground around his ankles. A large thick cock flopped out. Even flaccid, it was almost 7 inches long. It was light tan, reminding Carey of raw turkey sausages he had seen in the grocery store. He couldn’t see much more because of the shadow caused by Dirk and the boy’s t-shirt which hung just below his waist.

“No, I said naked!” Dirk said sharply.

“That’ll cost ya another twenty,” the kid sneered.

“I’ll do ten.”

“Ok.” His voice smaller.

Dirk dug in his pocket, peeled off a ten dollar bill, and gave it to the kid. He reached down quickly and stuffed it into the jeans which were still laying at his ankles. He kicked the jeans and underwear off of one foot and then the other. His shoes came off with them leaving dirty brown socks on his feet. Then, he brought his hands to the bottom of the t-shirt, grabbing the bottom hem, and pulling it up and over his head.

The kid was not just pale. His skin had a kind of sickly grayish tint to it. A sure sign of malnutrition. A farmer’s tan on his arms made him look even more washed out. Little body hair and not much muscle mass. Pale pink nipples and light blue veins snaked across his chest.

Dirk pointed at the boy’s feet. With a huff, the boy reached down and pulled his socks off. Now completely naked, he looked defiantly at the man.

“Over there,” Dirk said as he pointed to a nearby tree. Once there, “Turn around!” He growled.

The boy turned around and wrapped his arms around the foot thick tree. As he did, Carey could clearly see his ribs sticking out along his sides. Dirk pulled a condom out of his pocket, ripped it open, and pulled his shorts and underwear down to his knees. He tugged the condom around his thick nasty looking cock. With little hesitation, he stepped over to the kid, pushed his back down and pulled his hips back, and plunged his cock into the kid’s ass.

The only sound that came from the boy was a singular, “Uh.”

It was quiet for a few seconds as Dirk adjusted himself behind the boy. Following, the only other sound came from his hips slapping against the boy’s butt. His face appeared to have no expression at all. Hard to tell because it was completely covered by his hair.

After less than a minute, maybe only 30 seconds, Dirk raised his chin, looked up to the sky, gave a couple of low grunts, and orgasmed. Several grunts and wheezes later, he stopped thrusting.

As Dirk stumbled away, the kid slowly let go of the tree trunk and straightened up.

“Fuck man!” The kid practically screamed as he turned to the man. Carey could clearly see his still flaccid cock bobbing between his legs.

Dirk laughed with a gasp. “Hooh boy!”

Even before Dirk had fully zipped and buckled up, the boy was dressed.

“You sure are a sweet piece of meat,” he said with a leer.

“Fuck you!” The kid shot back as he swiftly disappeared up the trail.

Dirk stood watching him leave, shook his head, and followed him back up the path. Carey watched him stumble a couple of times, once having to brace himself against a tree to keep from falling.

Carey was stunned. After a minute, he realized he was still standing there naked with his clothes clutched in his arms. Feeling incredibly awkward, he dressed and numbly walked back to the main trail.

It wasn’t until hours later, laying in bed, that he was able to reflect upon what had happened. The boy was clearly prostituting himself. At first, Carey hated him for degrading himself. Then he began to feel deeply sorry for him; the desperation he must have felt to resort to selling his body.

What was it? Something about that boy made his heart hurt. He’d never felt that way about anyone, male or female. How absurd! It was crazy; the only thing he could think of was how he wanted to wrap his arms around him and hold him close.

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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"The kid was not just pale. His skin had a kind of sickly grayish tint to it. A sure sign of malnutrition". 

Politicians call it "food insecure", to detract from people who are clearly starving, and the media enables the lies . Or "housing insecure" when families, individuals and over a million children each day are not just homeless, but unsheltered against the elements.

While out for a walk,  "Approaching an intersection, Carey crossed two lanes of traffic pausing briefly at the median where a homeless man and a boy were stationed at the traffic signal.

Wearing shabby looking clothes, the man held a coffee can and a cardboard sign that read, “Lost our home please help my family.”

images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQdZdHLhy353jmc1mFRkBp

Later Carey sees the boy prostituting himself in the woods to a member of his high school football team, maybe getting enough money to buy food for his family? 

And now Carey thinks of somehow offering solace to the boy, but is it really help?

Carey has to decide, look away and walk past these poor souls, (like 95% of people), or make a real difference?

How can he do that, when he can't figure out who he is?

 

Edited by Anton_Cloche
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Anton…Thank you for your generous comments. The character Apollo and the situation where Carey discovered him are almost identical to what I experienced myself. Stopped waiting for a red light to change, I glanced to my left to see a man holding a sign next to the road. Nearby, a boy, looking roughly similar to the way I described Apollo, sat amongst grass and weeds a few feet away. Head down. I could barely see his face. I was going to reach some money through my car window but, just then, the light changed to green. Just like 95% of the people, I drove on*. My imagination stimulated, I got to my computer and created Apollo.

*I’ve been involved with a non-profit in the past that, amongst other groups, supports an organization called Teens Alone. In spite of the fact that I live in the highest income quadrant of my city, over 100 teens in the area are deemed homeless on any given day. Teens Alone helps them get temporary shelter and other services.

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6 hours ago, JLynch said:

*I’ve been involved with a non-profit in the past that, amongst other groups, supports an organization called Teens Alone. In spite of the fact that I live in the highest income quadrant of my city, over 100 teens in the area are deemed homeless on any given day. Teens Alone helps them get temporary shelter and other services

Thank you.

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