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    Rip Skor
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Boy Story: Go North Young Man - 7. Where There’s a Will, There’s a Way

Where There’s a Will, There’s a Way




Great, now I can go back to the hotel room and feel sorry for myself. I should have known this would never work.

“But you know what?” Shawn began. “When I get out of work at 1:30, I’m going to be really hungry. I think I’m going to go to the donut shop on the corner across from the little park.
You know, the one that’s open ‘til 3:00 am?”

“Yeah, Monsieur Donut.” I thought a moment. “Ooooh, I see. I think I’m going to find myself with a sudden donut craving at 1:30.”

He just smiled a knowing grin. Wink, wink, nudge, nudge, this is starting to get interesting. I paid him for the dance. He followed me out and sat with me at a two-person table.

I turned to Shawn, “Is it alright that you’re sitting here?”

“Sure, I can sit all night if I want. I just won’t make any money. But I’m not busy right now.”

The club was maybe half full, so the waiter came right over.

“You want a beer, Shawn?” I asked.

“No, I can’t drink while on duty.”

“How about a Coke?”


“A Labatt Blue and a Coke,” I said to the waiter, and he scurried off to wherever waiters go after taking your order.

Shawn slipped his right foot out of his shoe and began rubbing it. He grimaced and said, “Argh, so sore today.”

“Here, pop it up on my lap and I’ll massage it,” I offered.

“No, you don’t have to do that,” he replied.

“It’s fine. I want to.”

He looked at my face and saw I was serious. He shrugged his shoulders and lifted his right leg so his foot was in my lap. He soon had the look of relief on his face. His feet were
cute like the rest of him, so I didn’t mind rubbing them. I was fully enjoying this nonsexual but intimate connection to him. I massaged all parts of the foot and was mostly employing
a circular motion with my thumbs with frequent downward pressure.

The waiter came with the drinks and saw what I was doing. “Oh, will you do mine next?”

“No. Sorry, I only do one pair of feet a night,” I joked as I paid for the drinks.

“Darn,” the waiter said and I gave him a $2 tip. “Oh, thank you.”

I looked over and Shawn was sitting with his eyes half closed with a look of relief on his face, showing that he was fully enjoying the foot rub.

I slowly let his right foot down and motioned him to permit me to do the other foot. He silently followed my lead.

“You’re really good at this. Do you offer this to all the guys you meet?” Shawn asked.

“No, just for cute, Canadian, nude dancers named Shawn with sore feet,” I responded.

“Wow, good thing my name is Shawn, huh?” he joked. “Mmm, you should come live with me so you can do this all the time.”

“Don’t tempt me!” I smiled.

“My feet don’t smell, do they?”

I sniffed my hands. “Nope, they just smell like 18-year-old boy. And that’s a good smell,” I assured him.

“If you say so,” he replied.

After I finished massaging his feet and drinking my beer, it was time to leave. I could have stayed longer, but it might have started to get awkward. I asked him if he wanted me to
stay so he’d have a victim for his public dance.

“Oh, we stopped doing that at the end of June. It was a temporary thing.”

“Oh, too bad.”

“No freebies anymore, ha ha.”

“Well then, I’m going to take off now. Perhaps I’ll run into you sometime,” I said hinting at our covert arrangement.

“Maybe so, it’s a small city,” he replied and winked. I figured he was being careful in case someone was listening.

We both stood up and he came over and gave me a hug goodbye. I left the premises with just over an hour to kill. Knowing that I might have a chance at getting
intimate with a hot guy, I wanted to be as clean…everywhere…as possible. I wasn’t sure what Shawn was into—topping, bottoming, ass eating or fingering—so I wanted
my back entryway to be as clean as possible. I went back to the hotel and got out my male douching kit. I did three rinses to ensure I was as clean as a whistle. I quickly jumped
in the shower and washed the outside of my butt and legs cleaning any overspray from douching.

I was never cognizant about the importance of anal douching until a guy I hooked up with one night in a club roughly three years before this Montreal trip. He was a tall, handsome
college boy named Jesse. After chatting me up, I invited him home, and he had no problem with that. Though I lived relatively close, it was too far to walk, so I had my car parked nearby.
As we drove to my apartment, we had a little conversation.

“So Jesse, you said you’re in college?”

“Yes, I am a Sophomore this year,” he said.

“You’re a good-looking guy. I bet you get a lot of action with all those horny boys on campus,” I presumed.

“I know, you’d think that, right? But it seems every guy—even the guys who are into guys—walk around campus acting straight. I guess no one wants to be singled out as ‘the gay guy’.
So it’s actually more difficult to hook up when everyone is trying to appear straight. In the end, it’s just easier to go out to a gay bar where you know everyone is at least gay-friendly.”

We arrived at my place and went straight to the bedroom. We got undressed and he immediately started to blow me for a good long while. Good start. Then he asked me to fuck him.
A hot guy wanting to get fucked? He wasn’t going to get any argument from me.

He repositioned himself on the bed and assumed the missionary position. I decided I was going to fuck him without a condom, unless he asked for one. I broke out the lube and he
began greasing up his hole. I went to grease up my wand, which I was surprised to find already had a condom on it. Now, I know that wasn’t there since the last time I pissed at the
club. This Jesse is one sneaky guy. He must have slipped it on my manhood while he was blowing me and I didn’t even feel it there.

To cut to the chase, here I was fucking this hot guy in the ass and I started to detect a foul odor. And when you are fucking someone in the ass, the last thing you want to think about
is his bowel movements. I came close to coming three times, only to lose it in the last moments when a dookie-scented cloud suddenly invaded my nostrils. There’s nothing more toxic
to reaching orgasm than the smell of poo in bed. He came and I had to finish myself off with my hand.

I retell this experience simply to underscore the importance of good hygiene when the anus is in play. Many bottoms figure that it is a hazard of the job. If you’re going to top someone,
you sometimes have to expect some fecal interaction. I’m now saying, it isn’t so! If you’re a bottom and you plan to take it up the ass, don’t ruin the experience by being less than clean.
And no, simply cleaning around the outside is not enough.

With Shawn, I didn’t know if we’d even have anal (topping or bottoming), but I didn’t need any unwanted smells ruining the moment. You never get a second chance to make a first impression.

Douching is a fairly quick bathroom procedure, so I completed the task with time to spare. I decided to go to the other stripper bar nearby that featured youngish guys. L’Adonis Club
was smaller and a little more run down than Club David. The talent on stage was always unpredictable: one visit could be a complete bust, but other times, you wouldn’t want to leave.

When I arrived, I decided to sit at the bar because I was alone and didn’t want to take up a table. I ordered a beer and watched a fairly attractive guy wearing a red jockstrap strutting
his stuff on stage. The dance ended and everyone clapped as the emcee spoke in French and I understood “Valenteen.” I turned to the bar to drink some of my beer for a few minutes.
One problem this club has always faced was a shortage of dancers, so they try to space them out a little. At Club David, it’s one after the other.

I looked around the room and noticed a guy who looked similar to the dancer who just finished, except he was now wearing black shorts. He maintained a bare chest which drew my
attention. I thought to myself, “That’s a nice chest.” He approached the bar to get an ice water.

“Hi, I’m Valenteen,” he said looking at me and he stuck out his hand and I shook it. (His name was probably spelled Valentin, but I don’t want it to be mispronounced.)

“Hi, I’m Glenn,” I replied.

He started with the usual small talk as he sipped his water. The line of questioning began with “where are you from?” As I said, he was rather attractive. While he was talking to me
on my right, I had my right hand resting on my outer thigh. During our chat, he very discretely pressed his crotch against my hand. Now, it could have passed as unintentional contact
if not for the fact that he kept it there. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, I nonchalantly flipped my hand around so I was cradling his block & tackle that was stuffed inside those
shorts. From my initial assessment, I was quite impressed with his proportions in that area.

“Are you staying around here?” he asked.

I told him the hotel where I was staying.

“Oh, I’ve been there before,” he continued.

“It’s a nice place, right?” I ventured.

“Oh yes, very nice.” After a few seconds, “Are you, uh, looking for some company tonight?”

Then it suddenly dawned on me… “How much do you charge?”

“Just a standard out call. But I’ll give you a discount.”

“Oh geez, I appreciate the offer, but my boyfriend might not be happy about that. He was tired tonight and went back to the hotel early.”

“Oh, I see. Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me.” He gave me a peck on the cheek and took his leave. Wow, it’s either feast or famine…although this was a
rather attractive young man looking to supplement his income. Maybe he asked everyone to go home with him, but I didn’t witness him making the rounds.

Yes, I know. I lied about the boyfriend part, but I had to get off his radar. My guess was his rate would have been around $150. As I walked over to the donut place, I pondered
whether I would have taken Valentin up on his offer if I didn’t already have plans. It’s quite possible. Then I began to wonder if Shawn was expecting to get paid. Just because there
was no amount discussed, doesn’t necessarily mean it was going to be free. I wanted to give Shawn the benefit of the doubt, but it was still in the back of my mind. Truth be told, I would
have paid him any amount he asked. It isn’t often that one gets to sleep with a perfect 10, even if it costs something …although it would certainly cheapen the fantasy. There’s a difference
between a guy who wants me and a guy who wants me to pay him.

I went up to the counter at Monsieur Donut (I love that name) and ordered a jelly stick with coconut and a large hot chocolate. I took a seat near the large window that faced the park.
If Shawn was going to show up, he would be coming from that direction. But would Shawn show up? I hadn’t considered him standing me up. I didn’t know him well enough to discern
if he was reliable. I felt a little twinge of apprehension as I checked my watch again: 1:24.

I surveyed the park. I could see figures as they periodically passed below the lights in the park. First, I saw a woman walking a dog…definitely not him. Then I saw a figure with a backpack
over his shoulder, but Shawn didn’t have facial hair. Things quieted down until a man with a cane made his way across the park. Then at 1:33, I saw a small figure in a blue tank top, jeans,
black sneakers, and a gym bag over his shoulder walking under the light…blond hair…yup, that’s him. I tried not to panic.

I was the only customer in the donut shop, so he’s not going to have trouble finding me.

Shawn came through the door and walked about halfway to the counter and pretended to be surprised to see me. He came over, we exchanged pleasantries, and he kissed me on the cheek.
He placed his bag on the other chair at my table and went up to the counter to place his order. He bought two donuts and an iced tea and sat across from me devouring the donuts. He advised
me to look away at his display of scarfing down his food. I told him it was cute.

We both easily dispatched the food and drink before us, and we headed out the door to Ste. Catherine Street. “Going my way?” I asked pointing to the right.

“Should I be?” he asked.

“It might be worth your while,” I ventured.

“Hmm…OK, then I’m game,” he said as he turned to follow me.

We entered the hotel and rode the elevator up to the eighth floor. All the while in my head I couldn’t believe this beautiful boy was with me…me! And he’s going to my hotel room.
Then I thought, “Oh, maybe that’s where we discuss price.” I slid my keycard and we entered Room 822. I offered to take his workout bag and I placed it next to the TV on the credenza.

I walked up to him, grabbed his shirt by the collar area, and I pinned him against the wall while we began a torrid make-out session. He was an incredible kisser.

“I hope you don’t mind being up against the wall,” I said to him.

“No way, I like it a little rough,” he replied as we went right back to making out.

While we were kissing, I was thinking about all the men throughout the night who had touched him or kissed him or sucked him. I wanted any evidence washed away before we got too

I suddenly pulled away. “Where are my manners? You just got out of work, and I bet you would like a hot shower.”

“Oh yeah, sure. That would be great!”

He followed me into the bathroom and I ran the shower until the temperature was just right. There was a little cloth bath mat hanging on the tub surround, so I placed that on the
bathroom floor next to the tub.

“Here you go…there’s body wash, shampoo, and conditioner in those bottles and here’s a fresh towel,” I said showing him where everything was. “So I’ll let you get to it,” I added as I
stepped toward the door. My forward motion was quickly stopped when Shawn grabbed the back of my belt. I looked back at him.

“Aren’t you going to join me?” he asked quite innocently.

“Oh right. What was I thinking? Of course I am.”

We both started undressing. The vision of his naked body had become familiar to me, so there were no surprises as we stepped into the tub. However, I was a bit on edge as this was
the first time Shawn was seeing all of me.

He quickly looked me up and down with a smile on his face. He reached down and grabbed my cock. “Mmm, nice! It’s big,” he commented.

“So you like it rough…but do you like it big?” I questioned him.

“I love it big!” he proclaimed as he shook my growing phallus from its base.

I reached over to take a wash cloth from the rack next to the tub. I wet it, soaped it up, and began washing his back. As I slid down to his buttocks, I washed with one hand and
groped with the other. His bum was so compact, round, firm and slick, it was nearly impossible to resist squeezing. Shawn didn’t seem to mind because he was fully occupied
fondling my meatpole.

I took hold of his shoulders and turned him around, so I could wash the rest of him. Because I had seen him dance so often, the body before me looked familiar in its beauty. The
only difference was that, glancing downward, he was now hard like me. I gently washed his face, his arms, and hairless chest. I could have spent all night running my soapy hands
all over that smooth chest. I eventually decided to move on and dropped to a squatting position to wash his well-formed legs. As I ran the washcloth over them, I recalled seeing them
dancing on stage at the club. I finished up washing the sore feet that I was rubbing just a few hours ago.

Oh, right, I wasn’t quite finished yet. The pièce de résistance stood large and hard a mere 18 inches from my face as I crouched. It was a beautiful piece that I could stare at and
admire for a lifetime and never tire. And the fact that it was a little too big for the frame it was attached to made it all that more alluring. I soaped up my palms and went to…uh…
clean his privates. Once I could see that all parts were unequivocally clean, I removed my hands from his equipment because we still had a long way to go. The night was young.

He offered to wash me and I asked if he could do my back. He ran a hot, soapy wash cloth up and down my back and then slid down to cleanse my ass crack. When he was done,
I spun around to face him.

“Don’t you want me to finish washing you?” he queried.

“Well, this is actually my third shower today,” I informed him.

“Oh, look at you being so clean,” he commended my attention to hygiene.

“Don’t worry, I don’t take three showers every day. It was just the way things worked out today,” I explained.

“That’s OK. I like my guys to smell fresh,” he declared.

“So…do I get to be one of your guys, then?” I asked.

“Hmm, we’ll see,” he said with a giggle. “You’ll have to earn it.”

We stepped out of the shower and began drying ourselves. There was no hiding the fact that we were both visibly aroused. I reached out and pulled him into me, and I hugged
him nude body to nude body. I felt our warm cocks press against one another, which sent a bolt of electricity up my spine.

As we embraced he softly said, “You know, I was only kidding about having lots of guys.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I replied because it seemed appropriate.

“But you’ll still have to earn it,” he whispered in my ear.

“I always earn my keep,” I whispered back.

I locked my mouth on his and we kissed deeply as only two boys in heat could.




©Copyright 2017 Rip Skor; All Rights Reserved
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Chapter Comments

So far, so good. But where is this headed? Except for the obvious short term destination... 


And interesting to get some info on douching. I've never found it to be necessary, but maybe my hubby has another thing to say... ;) He's not complained so far.

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All it took was one bad experience to make a convert out of me. I didn't even know there was such a thing as anal douching before.

You wouldn't invite company over if your home was a mess, right? And they probably wouldn't tell you to your face to spare your feelings.

So you gotta be proactive.

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I appreciate the complete honesty. I learned almost immediately to prepare myself before sex. Never a bad experience. I remember in last story that you referred to the gaping hole after sex. You show the honest and not always sexy part of sex. Good chapter!

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