Brief Moments with a Hot Twink

Erotic encounter between a middle-aged man and a hot twink

© Copyright 2018/2021 by Millie Dynamite

NOTE: This work contains material not suitable for anyone under eighteen (18) or those of a delicate nature. This is a story and contains descriptive scenes of a graphic sexual nature. This tale is a work of pure fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously--any resemblance to actual persons, whether living, deceased, real events, or locales are entirely coincidental. This story does not condone random or unprotected sex, no matter how much they pay you.

Brief Moments with a Hot Twink

With my wife on a trip, I took advantage of the situation. Finding my way to a preferred hangout for the young gay community. Being a closeted middle-aged man, far, too, old for the place, uncomfortable surrounded by the beautiful open young people. Still, I had a hankering for something different. In the wild habitat, the flashing lights, the pounding music, I stood out like a granite pebble bordered by diamonds.

Amid all the confusion, I caught sight of him, gliding about on the floor by himself. He danced alone near me, moving in front of the mirrored wall. Wiggling, shaking his rump to the grinding rhythm. Soft, cute, and inviting. A young guy, maybe 23, possibly as young as 19, who can say. He had long, platinum, shaggy, blonde hair, framing a lovely feminine face.

The boy was young enough to be my son. Or, I was old enough to be his daddy. With a quick guesstimation, I calculated he was at least 20 years my junior, at best, at worst, 29 years younger than me. You see, as a 48-year-old married man. But I always had a thing for young femboys.

This kid was a grade-A twink, exuding innocence, but the glint in his gorgeous, pale, blue eyes spoke of some sort of knowledge. His body was thin, with a narrow waist and lovely shapely hips. I envisioned his chest as having hard, budding breast. Of course, they were pecks, but I can imagine them any way I desire.

The face, without doubt, stunned me.

The lad wore pink and purple, print pajama pants and top, nicely showing his tight, petite body, and topped off his outfit with salmon-colored running shoes. In our moment of nonverbal communication, he understood my wants. Dancing toward me, he pushed a blonde strand of hair from one eye, placing the tress back over his ear. In his eyes, a devilish twinkle told me, he wasn't cheap, but he was for sale.

Rubbing against me, standing on his tippy-toes, he stretched up, kissing my neck. Pressing his tiny body into me, he hugged me, and my rooster responded. In a flash, he glanced up at me, and his smirk turned more wicked. Putting one small hand on my arm, he pulled me out to the action on the floor.

The din of the music made conversation out of the question. I danced with the lad, guiding him to the dark recess of the back of the dancefloor. Through an archway, we move into a darkened room. A small tight place, with mops, buckets, brooms and dustpans, and a giant sink. Once the door was closed, I flip the light on. A dim bulb illuminated the space in a dull yellow glow. Shoving my hand in my pocket, I pull a bill out and hold it up for the boy to see.

He stood there, not acknowledging the money. Eyeballing me, and nothing more. I add another twenty, nothing, a third twenty, and a fourth. Once $100 staired at him, he snatched the bundle, hicking his leg up, he tucks the wad into his shoe. Kneeling, he unzipped my jeans, unbuckled my belt, unbuttoned my fly, and the young twink worked my slacks and shorts around my ankles.

Staring up at me, with oh, so, fucking, sexy eyes, he ran his tongue over his full, firm lips as he stroked my plumping johnson. Kissing the tip, his mouth went around my prickhead, moving to the flare of the helmet, he sucked me, and all the air rushed from my lungs. The heat of his tongue and warm space covering my member spread down my shaft, and I came, so, very, near to losing my load.

With a slow, deliberate motion, he engulfed my manhood with his soft gullet. His lips inched down the pole, sloppy, wet slobber covered my prick, and when his mouth covered the fat base, the cockhead was in his throat. Seven and a half inches, all inside his velvet, sodden maw.

With a dawdling graduality, he moved over my dick, his tongue corkscrewing around my tool, took me near the edge. Holding me on the verge of orgasm, his hands on my butt, this cherub-faced boy worked my peter like a pro.

In an all but imperceptible fashion, the kid picked up the pace. In a matter of five minutes, his cute head pummeled up and down at a dizzying rate. In one swift move, he stuck a thumb up my asshole.

My seed spilled in thick rivulets into his eager mouth and throat. One hard surge after another. Balls ascended, the cum rushed forth, filling him as he sucked it down, grinding his thumb one way and the other, milking my prostate for all its worth.

Putting a hand on his head, he slapped my hand away and kept jackhammering my hammer, balls deep. To my surprise, I didn't go limp. He rose, turned his back, and dropped his pants. Glancing over his shoulder, giving me a look, he raised one pale, blonde eyebrow and flutters his long, delicate eyelashes.

Putting his hands on the sink, he raised his posterior and lowered his head. All the while, he gazed at me. Those eyes, such a light blue they were almost whitish, told me more than mere words ever had.

Reaching past him, I pump the soap into my palm, coating it thick with fluid. Reaching down to my trouser python, I lathered up my stiff wood.

Gazing back, swishing his bottom, he was so fucking sexy. I moved to him, put one hand on his neck, with the other, I guided my prick to his sphincter. Rubbing it around, after a few moments, I shoved inside, deep, several inches.

He exhaled, threw his perfect head back, and thrust his hot derrière into me. In no time, we were in a rhythm, our flesh slapping to the driving beat of the music. Reaching around, I took his stiff sword in my hand. I was shocked, thick, veiny, and at least seven inches. He put his silky hand on mine as I jacked him.

Soon, far, too, soon, I lost another load deep in him. Once my stream ended, he turned me, holding his penis. The boy glared into my eyes, demanding.

As I tugged my pants up and fastened them, I knelt, opened wide. Without hesitation, the young twink took my head, the way I tried to take his, forcing me to take his gun deep in my throat. Hammering his staff into me, the young femboy fucked my face for an exquisite eternity.

Pulling out, he thumbed my lips with the stick. I licked him like a lolly-pop and sucked him like a popsicle. For the first time in my life, I sucked dong and loved the experience. When he shot his load, the salty savoriness filled my mouth and I choked it down, hoping to please him.

Leaning across the sink, he tore a paper towel off a roll and cleaned his ass, dropping the thing to the closet floor. He jerked his bottoms up and smoothed them to his hot body. Bending down, he kissed my forehead, passed me, going out the door.

I knelt in the squalid janitorial closet for some time. Collected my thoughts, returning to the main room, looking for my sweet femboy. My dreamboat left, and I never saw him again.