Kenny

His body was trim, a little on the thin side perhaps, but if he wasn't eating that well it wasn't surprising, but the start of what would become some serious muscles were evident. His chest was devoid of hair, and his stomach was flat and I guessed, hard. The key dangled on its cord round his neck. The only thing that marred the perfection of his lithe young body were the two red weals on his ribs.

He was wearing an old fashioned pair of trunks, with an open fly, the pre-cursor to the modern boxer short. They were originally white, but the front was covered with stains, some obviously cum and the others probably piss. He had evidently been wearing them for quite a long time and the sight of them made me feel incredibly horny. As he moved towards me I caught tantalising glimpses of his cock through the open fly. Not enough to see it clearly, by any means, but enough to make me want to hold it, feel it and enjoy it.

"That was terrific!" Kenny said, his eyes shining. "I left the bathtowel on the rail."

I nodded. "Okay. Feel better, do you?"

"Tons!" he agreed.

I nodded towards those wonderful pants he was wearing. "Not very fashionable," I remarked.

Kenny looked down and his face clouded over. "Oh! Sorry. The few clean clothes I have are in the locker, so I had to put them on again. Fashionable? No, but very easy to get my cock out when necessary." He studied them dispassionately. "Perhaps it's about time I threw them out. But then I won't have any to wear at all." He raised his head and grinned at me. "That'll make it even easier," he added. He suddenly pulled them down and stepped out of them, revealing himself to me with a smile.

His cock was gorgeous. There was no other word to describe it. It was quite long, and fairly thick, and I knew that when it was hard it would be something he could be immensely proud of. He was uncut, and the hair at its base and around it was dark and appeared to be remarkably soft, presumably because of his young age. He had a thin line of hair growing up from his cock to just below his navel. Kenny moved towards me until he was standing right in front of me.

"Do you like what you paid for?" he asked softly. His glance dropped to my crotch, where my cock was already beginning to become hard itself.

"I see that you do," Kenny murmured and leant forward to reach for my crotch. I grabbed his wrist and gently pushed his arm away.

"No," I said.

He looked at me with a puzzled frown on his smooth, handsome features.

"No?" he repeated. "Then what....?"

"Sit down," I told him. "Wait, put your pants back on first."

Kenny obeyed, casting puzzled glances at me as he did so.

If he knew what an effort it had cost me to push him away and not reach for that wonderful cock of his, he would have been very surprised. He sat down at the other end of the sofa.

"I don't understand," he said. "You've bought me a meal, brought me to your home, let me have a super hot shower, and yet you don't want me to touch you." He waved an arm. "I don't get it, Mister. Mister," he repeated with a slight shake of his head. "Please, won't you tell me your name?" This last request was uttered in a soft, pleading voice. "Mister makes you sound like an ordinary trick, and you aren't that. Please tell me your name."

I stared at him while I tried to work out how to say what I wanted to tell him.

"Kenny," I began, ignoring his request, "I like you very much. There's something about you that I find very, very attractive. Yes, I want you to touch me, very much, but not just yet. I bought you the meal and brought you here because I think, I feel, that you are not like other rent boys. Not that I've ever met one," I added quickly, "but we all have our accepted models of hookers and rent boys, and you just don't fit into the pattern. I like you very much, I think you're very handsome, almost beautiful in a way, because you're still young, and I find you very desirable. But I have some decisions to make about you before we go any further."

I got up and replenished my drink. "Do you want a drink?"

"I wouldn't mind a small vodka, if you have some."

"Anything with it?"

He shook his head. I made the drinks and gave him his. He sipped it slowly. I went to the silver cigarette box on the table -- another thing worth a few bob to someone like Kenny -- and selected a smoke for myself. I lit it and blew smoke out. His eyes were watching me.

"Do you smoke as well?" I asked him.

"I haven't had one for weeks," Kenny replied, watching the plume of smoke as it wafted across the room. "If I had one now, I'd probably choke on it. But still....."

So I gave him a cigarette and he lit it, inhaling the smoke greedily.

"Aaah!" he breathed, and then coughed once or twice. "Nice! Thank you once again, Mister."

He drew on the smoke heavily and then regarded me seriously over the wreaths of smoke surrounding him.

"So what is this all about?" he enquired gently. "Why am I here? What are these 'decisions' you have to make about me?" He clicked his fingers suddenly and his face cleared in understanding.

"Oh, I get it! You're trying to decide how much to tell me about your own little secrets. Like what you're into, what turns you on. Right?"

He leaned forward slightly and touched my knee.

"Mister, let me tell you," he went on softly, "that in the last few months I've seen it all. And done most of it, too. What is your thing? Domination? Cross dressing? Watersports?" He leaned even closer to me. "Don't worry. I'm cool with any of those, and more. Whatever it is, I'll be happy to accommodate you. So why don't you just relax and enjoy yourself?"

He was partly right, of course, but only partly. He sat back and regarded me again, waiting for my response.

I held out my hand. He took it, and slid along the sofa until he was close to me. I put my arm round him and felt the warmth of his skin, smelt the soap from his shower and felt the dampness of his tousled hair against me. He snuggled against my chest, and drew thoughtfully on his cigarette.

"Do you know," he said quietly, "that this is only the second home I've been in since I left my own. It's usually an alleyway, or the back of a car, or maybe a tiny room somewhere. And the only other home I was in resulted in these." He gestured to the marks on his ribs. He snuggled against me a little more and his hand stroked my thigh again.

"It feels ---comfortable," he finished.

I made up my mind.

"Kenny," I said, "if I asked you stay all night, how much extra would you want?"

His face turned to look up at me.

"I'll happily stay all night," he answered me quietly. "And I don't want any 'extra' as you put it. But if I stay, and in the morning you can let me have another shower, and maybe even a bit of toast or something, that would be plenty. You've already done more for me than all the other tricks I've known put together. Mister, I like you too. I don't know why. You just seem different in a nice sort of way. I like that and I like you. I don't want to rip you off. You don't have to give me money. Unless you want to. Just a shower and a bit of breakfast, and I'll happily stay all night with you."

His eyes were on mine, a trusting, earnest, and yes, truthful look in them. I leaned down and kissed his forehead gently. The look in his eyes didn't change, but he put his hand up against my cheek and held it there.

"What is your name?" he asked again.

"It's Derek," I told him.

"Derek," he repeated. "Des? Can I call you that? Or better still, Desi?"

"Of course, if you want," I told him.

He gazed into my face.

"Why do I feel so comfortable with you?" he asked. "When I asked you for a fiver, you were just another trick. So why does it feel so ---so--- right, being with you?"

I took his hand away from my cheek and held it for a moment, then let it go. Gently, I let my hand fall onto his thigh. It was deliciously smooth, warm and firm. I stroked his skin with my fingers and allowed them to travel up his thigh until they felt the legs of those incredibly sexy trunks.

Kenny was gazing at me, the cigarette smouldering unnoticed between his fingers. My fingers trailed up the outside of his pants, and I could feel the stiffness of the cum and pee on them. My questing fingers reached the open fly and I felt the jerk inside them as his cock began to harden. But my fingers moved on, tracing a line up to the waistband of his trunks, and then back down to that inviting, open fly. I so desperately wanted to put my hand in there, feel the heat of his gorgeous cock, feel it swell and harden in my hand. Beneath my fingertips I felt him becoming more erect. I could see the bulge his cock was starting to make inside his pants and feel it beginning to throb beneath my stroking fingertips.

With an incredible effort, I took my hand away from him.

"No-one," said Kenny breathlessly, "no-one, ever, has turned me on as quick as that before. Tricks have to work on me a bit first. Why do I feel so horny so quickly? You know, I really want to have sex with you now. I want you to do that again until I'm so hard it hurts."

I eased him away from me and stood up.

"Come on," I said and held out my hand to him.

Pausing only briefly to stub out his cigarette, he let me lead him to another door. I threw it open and let him see inside.

"Oh, nice," he commented. "Clean, airy, it's a very nice room. Your bedroom?"

While Kenny had been enjoying his shower, I had quickly made the bed in the spare room and prepared it for him, hoping that he would agree to stay all night.

"No," I answered. "Yours."

He turned and looked at me.

"What do you mean?"

"You sleep in here tonight," I said. "I sleep in my room."

"But -- what about---"

"Much as I would like it," I admitted, "not tonight. Tomorrow, we'll see what happens."

Kenny leaned against the doorway. He was staring at me and his face had taken on a slightly hard look. He stared at me for some moments and then nodded.

"I see," he said. "I get it. You don't trust me. You think I'm going to do enough to you to make you exhausted and fall asleep, and then disappear in the night with your silverware or your TV or something."

He peered round to the inside of the bedroom door, then without a word, but giving me another hard look, he marched across to the front door and examined the lock. He gave a satisfied nod.

"There's no key in the bedroom door," he said, "but this a deadlock." He pointed to the massive brass lock. "You can lock this with your key from inside, as well as out. So lock it. That way you won't have to worry." He folded his arms and stood there, watching me.

"You're right," I agreed. "That was my main worry. Unfortunately, by all accounts, that's what rent boys and hookers do. Nick the wallet, the jewellery, the silver, anything they can easily carry out without making a noise or being noticed outside. And Kenny," I finished quietly, "whatever I may think of you, whatever your circumstances, whatever I may have done for you, you are a rent boy, and I am just another trick."

Kenny didn't move for a while, and I wasn't going to say anything more. It was up to him to respond. If I'd blown his game, he could get dressed and go.

Finally he unfolded his arms and came to me. His warm, brown arms went round me and he leant his face against my chest.

"I understand," he whispered. "It's reasonable for you to think like that. Most of the guys and hookers I know would do just that. But Desi, you aren't just another trick. In some way, somehow, you are different, you've been good to me, you're nice and I've told you I don't want to rip you off."

He released me and drew away from me. Staring straight into my eyes, he said, "Lock the door. If you want sex, come to me. Wake me if you have to. I hope you do."

And with that he walked past me, into the bedroom and shut the door.

******

The next day I spent as much time thinking about Kenny as I did about my work. I hadn't gone to him in the night. I'd tossed and turned for a bit, my mind full of thoughts about what we could be doing, what I wanted to do so much, that sleep had been a while arriving. But eventually it did and I slept undisturbed until the alarm went off. Rousing on one elbow, I saw a folded piece of paper lying near me on the pillow.

Thoughts raced through my head. Had his fellow rent boys shown him how to pick a lock? Had he scarpered with as much of my valuables as he could stuff in his pockets? Was this note a final sneer at me, at my foolishness in trusting him at all? I opened the note and read it.

'Desi, I am disappointed you didn't come to me. I couldn't sleep for a long time and I wanted sex with you so much. I got up and had a drink of milk. Hope you don't mind. Wrote this for you at the same time. If I still deserve breakfast, please wake me. Kenny.'

And I had shaved and showered and then gone to his room where he was sleeping peacefully. The covers were half thrown off him and I could see the outline of his ass through those wonderful pants. There were small skid marks on them. His cheeks were firm and round, and I wanted to pull his pants down and run my hand over his ass and into the crack between his cheeks -------I pulled myself together. Gently shaking his shoulder I murmured that breakfast was almost ready. He opened one eye and whispered a hoarse thanks.

We talked a bit while he munched a bowl of cereals and some toast and drank two cups of coffee. Not about sex. That wasn't mentioned once. Eventually I asked him, "Where do you want to go? I can drop you off somewhere on the way to work."

His face had fallen and he tilted his head to one side.

"Do I have to go anywhere?" he asked softly. "I suppose, anywhere really, then." He looked genuinely disappointed. Then he nodded towards the front door. "You can lock me in. Then you know I'll be here when you come home."

I nodded slowly. "You want to stay here all day, alone? What will you do?"

"You've got a TV, DVD player, CDs," he said. "I can amuse myself."

"Forgive me," I said carefully, " but don't you want to be out and about hunting for tricks?"

"No," he said. "I don't." He stared at me with a hard, searching gaze. "God knows why, but no, I really don't want to go out looking for tricks. It feels ---- comfortable, here." He let out a huge sigh. "But, of course, I understand. Why you didn't want anything from me after all you've done for me, I don't know. But I enjoyed my time with you. More than I would have believed. But you can drop me anywhere."

And so now I was dividing my attention between my work and thoughts about what Kenny might be doing, left alone in the flat. I'd taken the precaution of moving a few small items into my own room and locking that door, to which I did have a key, but the rest of the place was open to him to select whatever he thought he could nick and get away with. Insurance would cover it, provided I could find an explanation of how the robber got in through that massive lock. But I'd arranged things so that they became a slight trap for Kenny, if he had lied to me. I wanted to trust him, and the only way I could think of to find out for sure if he was being honest with me was to set that little trap.....

Fortunately I was able to leave work early, which happens sometimes but not as often as I'd like. I arrived home and let myself in with the key. I immediately knew there was something different about the place. What it was I couldn't tell straight away, but flat was different in some way, I could sense it. I shut the door behind me and paused, trying to focus on the difference. And then I heard a noise and Kenny came bounding out of the living room, a huge smile on his face.

"You're back!" he cried gleefully. He stopped and looked at me for a moment as I stood inside the front door, then he slowly came to me, still smiling happily and folded his arms tightly round me, squeezing me as hard as he could in a hug. "You're earlier than you said," he said happily.

My arms went round him and we stood there and hugged each other for a while.

"Come and see!" Kenny implored me, and grabbing my hand he led me into the living room. And then I knew what the difference in the place was. Kenny had been cleaning and tidying. He took me proudly on a tour, showing me what he'd done. Washed up the breakfast things, emptied and washed the ashtrays, dusted, hoovered, and a few things that I'd lazily left lying about he'd put away in cupboards, mostly in the wrong places, I noticed with a silent chuckle to myself. All in all he'd been round everywhere and cleaned and tidied up. I could smell a faint fragrance of flowers and I knew he'd used disinfectant, presumably in the kitchen and bathroom.

As we reached the kitchen, he paused and looked at me seriously. "Oh, by the way," he said apologetically, "I went out to get some milk 'cos there was hardly had any left."

A cold tingle ran up my spine. "And how did you get back in again?"

"I left the door ajar and wedged it shut with a scrap of cardboard," he explained nervously. "Then I ran to the corner shop and ran back again. I was only away three or four minutes."

"You had money to pay for it?" I suggested, rather coldly.

Kenny shook his head and looked even more nervous.

"There was a tenner under that pot and I used that. There's the change." He pointed to a five pound note and some loose change on the kitchen counter.

Whether I actually, physically staggered at that point, I couldn't tell you, but I saw the nervousness in eyes disappear and a more relaxed look came over his features.

"That shook you, didn't it?" he said quietly, with a quizzical look.

I nodded dumbly. It had shaken me, but what was more important was the immense feeling of relief that flooded through me. The little trap I'd set had worked, in one way, and failed abysmally in another way, and I was so glad.

Kenny came to me and threw his arms round me again.

"Desi," he said, "I knew you'd left the door unlocked within thirty seconds of you leaving. You expected to find me well gone when you came home, didn't you? Me and all your valuable stuff? I could have got mates round here with a lorry and cleaned you out today. That's what you expected, isn't it?"

I hugged him very tightly to me.

"No!" I whispered, "That's what I was terribly afraid of. But I hoped and prayed all day that if you found the unlocked door, you'd still be here when I got home."

"And I am," he said simply. He hugged me tighter and said "And I'm glad you're home. It's nice to see you again." He looked up at me. "Have you missed me a bit?" he asked me.

I nodded. "Yes, Kenny, I have missed you."

His head went down again and he rubbed his cheek against my chest.

"Good. I missed you too and I wanted to do something for you because of how good you were to me. I hope you can trust me now."

We stayed like that for while, just enjoying the nearness and the warmth of each other.

"Kenny," I said at last, "we have some talking to do. Why don't you get us some drinks and we'll sit."

And so minutes later we were both on the sofa. Kenny lay full length with his head in my lap, looking up at me. I could feel the warmth of his head through my trousers, resting on my cock, and I'm sure he could feel that too, even with the back of his head. Kenny lit two cigarettes and passed me one.

"Okay, I'm listening," he said comfortably.

I took a sip of my drink.

"How would you like to live here?" I asked him.

He gazed at me. "Live? What, permanently?"

I nodded. "Yes. I thought you might like it. I thought you might enjoy having a home again, instead of a railway arch."

He drew on his cigarette and idly murmured, "A home!"

Then he sat bolt upright, almost spilling his drink.

"Derek, are you serious?"