Now, I Must Thank You

The city lights are bright and vibrant, the civilians that passed were all in a joyous and blissful mood, many of them hand in hand with their partners or children or both. Jubilant laughter is consistently in the air all evening as everyone is stoked about the new year that was approaching in a few hours, hoping it will be filled with all the good things life has to offer.

But not everyone has such hope. A mere 20 feet away from the busy plaza sits a young boy of around 18 years, perched on a picnic table, knees up to his chest and arms around them, a futile attempt to shield himself from the biting wind---wondering why all good and beautiful things are preordained for some and not for others? Why must he live like this while others live a life of luxury? Why can't he have a normal life like the kids on TV?

He had such big plans for his life; plans to escape his war and poverty stricken home country; plans to cross the sea in a boat; plans to start afresh and prosper in a new environment; a European environment. He thought crossing the Mediterranean sea was the hard and tricky part. But unbeknownst to him, the real challenge lies in the already overwhelmed refugee system that constantly makes international headlines. He applied for housing and financial aid but nothing has been forthcoming for him. He's been here in this southern Greek city for almost 3 months, sleeping out in the open for 1 of them. He used to live at a refugee camp a few miles away but the chaotic environment was too much for him to bear any longer. A motel was a temporary solution but what good is it if you're constantly spending large chunks of money without any coming back to you? That's how this picnic table became his home for the time being. All of his funds are now depleted, spending his last 10 euros on a meal from a fast food joint a few days ago. One thing about him though, he never denies himself anything. He lives in the now and deals with the then when it happens.

But it's been almost three days since his last meal and he is very much starving. Hungry to the extent that he cannot stand on his feet too long without feeling weak and lethargic.

Also unbeknownst to him is the tall, lithe man that lie in wait 30 paces away in the shadows of an unlit area. He crouches behind a large oak tree, his dark clothing granting him the ability to blend into the gloomed surroundings, so much so that people passed inches away from him without knowing he was there. The man eyes the boy the way a lion eyes a deer, waiting for the right moment to pounce.

Like the lad in front of him, he too wonders why some people suffer while others prosper. The world goes on as though the humanitarian problems many people face today are nonexistent. He wants to rid the world of all suffering, help people in anyway he can. But like all humans, he has a flaw. You see, he has a kind, giving heart; but he's only willing to give unless he gets something in return. Something that only a young man can provide. Like the beautiful one that's sitting on the bench in front of him. He emerges from the darkness and walks towards his oblivious prey.

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There's only so much a tummy full of water can do. It may numb the feeling of hunger for a while, but that feeling will always come back. The young boy sighs, longing for a bite to eat, almost tempted to snatch a passer's by dinner and run with it. But even if he were able to snatch it, he won't be able to run for so long for he felt so lightheaded. A few leaps and he'd faint. It's not long before he hears a shuffling movement behind him. He looks back and sees a tall man standing behind him, hands in his jacket pockets looking straight ahead as though the boy is not there. The man sits on the bench, on the same side as the boy and looks over at him and says hello.

"You speak English?"

"Where are you from?"

"Where's your family?"

The boy does not respond, not because he doesn't know the English language, but he just wants to be left alone. The boy rolls his eyes and is on the verge of cursing at the man. Tired of his silly questions when he asks "are hungry boy?"

The man 100% knows the young man is famished. He stalked him for days, watching from different vantage points like the coffee shop across the street, or from his office in the high rise building adjacent to the river. Observing and analyzing. Not once during those three days did he see the youngster eat a meal, head either buried in his phone or his hands. Watching him take the occasional stroll to the public water fountain to quench his thirst or to the nearby restroom to relieve himself. The lad casts a curious glance his way----

He knew the boy was beautiful even though he eyed him from a distance at times, but now that he's next to him, in the flesh, he's in awe at his striking features. His skin is as smooth as butter. His wavy light brown hair is down to his shoulders lengthwise, secured in tight knot with a yellow rubber band. A few loose strands of hair hang down the side of his head; too short to stretch so far back. His dark, thick eyebrows, the type most women would envy sit a top a pair of hooded eyelids, playing host to a pair of green eyes. A bit lower and a crooked nose comes into sight, maybe as a result of childhood squabbling or a falling accident of some sort. A smattering of freckles rests there, as well as on the area directly beneath both eyes, and the man immediately wonders where else on his body freckles might be. His full lips are a bit chapped due to the cool air.

"Oh, so you do speak English. I tell you what, I am ordering dinner and you are very welcome to join me. You can have---ehhh---nice warm shower and warm clothes also. I live---ehhhh very short distance away." Says the stranger, his accent thick and heavy.

The man gets up and begins to walk away, turning to see if the boy is following but he's still sitting on the bench. "I will not harm you, I just want to help you."

The young man knows he's in no position to pass up such a generous offer, but said offer might be a bit too generous. He's not naive to think the man will want nothing in return. Most humans always have ulterior motives. He regards the man for a long while, says a silent prayer to Allah to guide and protect him, and stands, and stretches. He takes up his packet of special things which holds his passport, phone and charger, application forms, a few family photos and his birth certificate. He walks the few steps to meet the man where he stood and together, they walked the short distance to his apartment.

They reach the entrance to the building, and head straight for the elevator that's off to the right. A short flight up and they get off, turn left, and in a few steps, they reach the man's apartment. He takes his card, swipes it through the machine and the door immediately opens.

"After you" he says, gesturing with his hands the way inside.

The boy moves pass him, finding himself shrouded in darkness for a few seconds before hearing a click and the lights turn on. He stoops down to untie his shoes and takes them off while the man hangs his jacket on the rack.

"You go take shower, and I will---eh---get you clean clothes---and order dinner. The bathroom is down the hall, and the second door on the right, towels are in the---uhhh second drawer. Toothbrush in top drawer. Shower gel is in the white bottle, shampoo in the green bottle. Stay as long as you like. Oh you aren't---how do you say---you eat meat right?"

The boy nods.

"Go on, dinner will be here when you return."

He goes to the bathroom, strip and examines himself in the mirror for a while. His eyes look extremely haggard with some bags underneath. He takes the rubber band out of his hair, and runs his hand through the mane a couple of times. His once slightly chubby stomach that he was so accustomed to is now relatively flat. His waist looks slimmer, his thighs a bit leaner. And it's only after he took his clothes off that he really got a whiff of how he actually smells. Horrid. He sighs and steps in the shower; performs his ablutions, spending extra time with washing his hair.

He emerges, grabs a towel and in the midst of drying off, he hears a soft knock at the door. He loosely wraps the towel around himself and calls out:

"Yes"

"I have clothes here, may I come in?"

The boy opens the door and takes the clothes from him and gently closes it back.

In his hands are a pair of dark blue sweats, a grey sweat shirt, and a brand new pair of white briefs. He gets dressed, brushes his teeth and goes straight to the kitchen.

"Have a seat." He sits on a high chair resting his hands on the counter bar, idly playing with his fingers.

"I do not know your name. My name is Stefanos but you can call me Stef. And your name?"

After a few seconds the boy replies "Samir."

"Okay Samir I got for us here---lamb chop, chicken, rice, potatoes, cake. You can eat as much as you want. Really."

Stefanos plates some food in front of him and as soon as it touches the counter, Samir gets going. Trying his best not to eat too fast in case he gets sick but he's not exactly eating slow either; within three minutes his plate is clean albeit some meat bones, and Stefanos offers him a second share, and he eats all of that as well.

Stefanos is still on his first share, eying the boy, smiling at his ravenous state.

"You want more?"

"Water please."

Stefanos hands him some and sits back down.

"Where are you from?"

"Syria."

[Stefanos winces as that]

"Where's your family?"

"Dead."

[Stefanos winces again] "I'm sorry."

The boy shrugs and looks down at his lap.

"So you sleep on bench? "You not apply for help from government?"

"Yeah but, I'm still on wait list."

"Well, you are done with bench. You can sleep here and many nights after."

Samir looks up, his eyes twitching in disbelief. In front of him sits a man who, up until a few minutes ago didn't even know his name and now he's offering him a place to stay?

"Why are you being nice to me?"

"You deserve to be treated well, to have dignity. Humans are supposed to look out for each other not destroy and abandon each other."

"Then why are people being killed for no reason every day in my country? Why were my parents shot? My house blown up? Why does this keep happening?" The boy wails, the pitch of his voice getting higher and higher with each question he asks. He sobs uncontrollably into the palms of his hands, Stefanos watching him with wide eyes, not knowing what to do. He eventually gets up and hugs him, allowing him to cry into his neck.

Stefanos coos into his ear, letting him know that everything will be okay, that soon he will heal and move on and fall in love with life again. They stay like that for what felt like hours but it lasted only minutes.

"Can I go lay down?"

"Sure buddy, whatever you need."

Stefanos leads him to his bedroom; his rather spacious bedroom with a queen sized bed tucked away in the corner.

He lies down and immediately gets under the covers while Stefanos returns to the kitchen to clean up.

While packing away the dishes, Stefanos could not calm his restless mind. He could not get over Samir's boyish cuteness. Seeing him in just the towel lit a fire inside of him. He so badly wants to bed the boy, but his conscience wouldn't let him unless it's on his terms. He couldn't help but inhale his scent when they hugged earlier. And the feel of him in his arms---its like he was meant to be there.

Finished with the kitchen, he goes to the living room and opens his laptop to reply to a few work emails before bed; a glass of red wine within his reach. It takes him half an hour to respond to all and by then, his eyes begin to feel heavy. He rests the computer down on the coffee table and goes to his bedroom.

He opens the door, steps in, and at first goes to switch the lights on but doesn't bother seeing as the three quarter moon casts enough light through the floor-to-ceiling glass. He walks right up to the bed, watching young Samir sleep; light snores escaping his lips; a subtle sheen of sweat on his forehead due to the warm clothing and thick sheets; He sleeps on his stomach it would appear, and Stefanos smiles. Samir looks so peaceful. Stefanos takes his shirt off and drops it to the floor, unclasps his belt and let's it drop as well; surprised the loud thud of the buckle hitting the tiling didn't cause the lad to stir. He shimmys out of his dark slim fit jeans, plopping down on the bed to take them from around his ankles. In just a pair of black boxer briefs, he gets into bed next to Samir and closes his eyes. A few second later, he feels movement on the bed and looks over to see Samir facing him.

"Thank you again. I appreciate what you've done for me."

"Don't worry about it." [Stefanos whispers]

"You've been good to me and now I want to do something nice for you."

Before Stefanos could reply, Samir leans over and pecks his lips. When he pulls away, Stefanos looks at him with wide eyes and pulls him back down for a deeper, more passionate kiss; The smacking noises of their lips on each other's fills the bedroom and Stefanos purrs when Samir's tongue collides with his.

Stefanos pulls the younger man onto his lap and they continue kiss and Stefanos does not hesitate to let his hands do some exploring. He caresses his hips, strokes his thighs and moves his hands over to his buttocks and gives it a firm knead. Stefanos can't help but grind his crotch against his ass and the more he does so, the harder his member becomes.

A few minutes later, they separate and get off the bed. Stefanos pulls the boy's sweat shirt--- or rather, his sweatshirt over his head. He then stoops down and chucks his pants and underwear off, leaving him completely nude; The moonlight giving his young body a subtle glow. Stefanos looks down so see the boy's aroused cock pointing up. The head of it is completely submerged in foreskin. The shaft is a nice size but it still has that hint of boyish thinness. The base of it is covered in a modest patch of brown hair while the scrotum sports sparse wiry strands. Their lips connect again for a short while before Samir pulls away and sinks to the floor. He positions himself so that his back aligns with the bed base, and his neck rests on the edge of the mattress. Stefanos is slightly slightly shocked at his eagerness to please him; A smile tugging at his mouth. He then stands in front of him and rubs his saturated crotch all over his face, and the whole time Samir looks up into his eyes.

Samir reaches up and peels the older man's underwear off, freeing the trapped hardness that was housed underneath. Samir now finds himself face to face with a penis of considerable length, hovering inches away from his nose. A glistening slit; a cockhead that's a light shade of purple. Sporadic veins spawning the length of a pale shaft that juts out from an unkempt patch of black pubic hair; a slight curve upwards. A sac housing testes that could pass for the size of lemons.

With the head of his penis, Stefanos traces the boy's lips, glossing them with his precum. Without preamble, Samir grants the man access to his warm mouth, and in one fluid thrust, Stefanos enters, sighing in delightful content.

Stefanos grabs a fistful of his long hair and forces his cock deeper and deeper into his mouth, so that his nostrils are embedded in his bushy pelvis, and holds him there for a few seconds. Stefanos eases back a little and slides back in, engaging in a rhythmic roll of his hips, finding that perfect tempo that elicits a series of soft moans from his own lips. He continues with the task at hand for a few minutes, and every time his cockhead hits the boys throat an electrifying feeling rushes through him. He fucks the boy's face with more vigor now causing him to sputter; when he pulls out Samir went into a coughing fit. His face extremely flushed, his eyes red rimmed. When he settled down, Stefanos thrusts back in and continues with his facial ploughing and it's not long before he feels his orgasm building and he immediately withdraws, not wanting to spurt just yet, the boy's saliva leaving a glossing effect along his entire length.

He then goes to the chest of drawers to get some oil, ignoring the condoms that's directly next to the bottle, wanting no barriers between him and the boy; craving that authentic skin to skin contact of raw sex.

He helps Samir off the floor and wills him to lie on the bed. Stefanos gets his fingers nice and slippery with the oil, then kneels between the boy's legs. He hoists them in the air exposing his smooth hole; he circles the ring of muscle and applies pressure with his middle finger, sliding it in deliberately slow, the squeezing pressure on his digit feels amazing, his cock spasming in impatience, longing to experience that same intense feeling when enveloped in the boy's warmth. Samir starts to whimper as Stefanos adds a second finger, then a third, stretching and loosening him up. Eventually, Samir's whimpering turns to soft moans and this lets Stefanos know that he's all set for penetration.

Stefanos removes his fingers and retrieves the oil. Slathering a generous amount onto his length before lining it up at Samir's entrance. He eases his head in and Samir starts to cry out. He leans down and covers the boy's mouth with his to muffle his groans.

Stefanos pushes more and more, until he is now balls deep in the boy's tight heat; His eyes rolling to the back of his head in wicked pleasure. He rocks his hips back and fourth slowly at first. The boy's sphincter holding his cock in a vice grip, encumbering him from going at a quicker pace. Eventually Samir adapts to the intrusion and at the same time, Stefanos feels a slight relaxing of the anal muscles around his cock. He increases his speed now, filling the bedroom with the pornographic sound of skin smacking skin, madly ramming his stiff rod into the boy's prostate. Stefanos leans over him a second time to kiss his face, his neck, further down and he laps at his nipples and Samir's cries of ecstasy is music to his ears.

It's only a matter of time before Stefanos feels the tingling in his scrotum and he quickly withdraws; waits a few seconds and thrusts back in; And withdraws again. Repeating this exercise until the feel of his impending orgasm dissipates.

In a frantic change of position, he flips Samir onto his stomach, mounts his ass, latches onto his hips and continues to pound into him; his movements animalistic now. His body becoming drenched in sweat that runs from his face, down his neck, down his fuzzy torso and onto the ridge of Samir's ass crack. A few minutes later, Samir's moaning turns to groaning, and Stefanos feels the boy's body begin to shudder and he knows he's having an orgasm.

Samir's orgasm is causing his hole to twitch erratically with each rope of semen his dick shoots out, and in turn, that constant clamping pressure on Stefanos' tool causes him to howl as his throbbing cock deposits his seed deep into the boy's ass. He pulls out, the explosive orgasm causing him to tremble and momentarily lose all feeling in his legs. He lies on the bed next to Samir and catches his breath for a second. He sits up and spreads the boy's ass cheeks and watches as his sperm seeps out of his ass-lips in slow motion.

He looks at Samir and smiles. "Now, I must thank you."