Maurice

By BladerIowa

Published on Apr 20, 1998

Gay

Controls

I'm out of retirement! OK... Here's a new one for ya. I had fun writing this one. It's not true. I have a friend that works at this shelter and I did meet the guy named Maurice. I want him... :)

Standard disclaimer... This is a story about sex between two consenting males. If you are under the age that you may legally view such material in your community, than you must leave now. If you do not like the idea of two horny guys having fun together, please read no further.

Maurice

by

BladerIowa

Dealing with troubled teens was never a problem for me. I'd worked for the Hatcher House for nearly ten years. In that decade of service, I'd witnessed many cases of child abuse, neglect, fights, and things that you wouldn't want to know about. Many of those teens were violent -- most of them just needed a role model, someone who cared.

Maurice came from a slum area. Raised by only his mother, he was a gang member and a survivor. Sent to our institution by the State, he posed an interesting challenge in discipline. The State didn't want him. We didn't either. Hatcher House got him only because the juvenile facility was full. Our facility is a private facility. With a minimum of security, such a punk created a special problem for us. He had to be monitored 24 hours a day. It was my job to do that.

Maurice had a criminal record at age 17 that included numerous assaults, several burglaries, marijuana possession, and an automobile theft. To look at him and listen to him speak, you would think this was not possible. Maurice had a smooth sophistication about him, a way to make others listen to and respect him. At 6'3", he had an impressively-muscled, lean body. His skin was the shade of dark chocolate. With long eyelashes and deep brown eyes, he could paralyze or seduce anyone he looked at. I felt immune to all that. I knew he was attractive, but I also knew his dangerous side. At least I thought I did.

As I watched him over the next few months, I began to fall victim to some of Maurice's charms. The women on the staff loved him. They all talked about his looks, body, and the smooth, soft voice he had. I found myself looking at him more and more and fantasizing about him dominating me, whispering into my ear, and slowly fucking me. Those feelings got worse and worse.

I was required to check on Maurice every half hour to make sure that he wouldn't try and break out. Though smooth and polite, we knew him to be otherwise. I knocked on the door to his room, but heard no answer. I entered and looked for some sign of escape. I noticed a light under the bathroom door. Debating whether or not I should enter, I remembered that it was my responsibility to make sure he was not harming himself. I knocked. The bathroom door opened and Maurice was standing there, wrapped in a towel, his body still dripping water.

"I-I'm sorry," I stammered.

"Hey, it's alright. You're just doing your job."

"Thanks. I had to check you. I mean check on you to make sure everything was okay."

"And it is," he smiled. "I was just taking a late shower. It's cool."

I left. The image of him reeled in my mind. The well muscled chest, those bedroom eyes, and that beautiful white smile. I found myself getting hard. He'd seduced me, if only in thought.

I knew that some of the girls had been writing him notes and slipping them under his door. Strictly forbidden, it still occasionally happens. Should I write him a note? I knew it was wrong; I couldn't do it. But I had to.

I grabbed a pad of paper and scrawled a message:

Dear Maurice,

You are the most beautiful man I've ever laid eyes on. I want

you to make love to me. I would do anything that you asked

me to. I long to feel your naked body on top of mine, you god!

A Friend

I slipped the note under his door and crept away.

The following day, nothing happened. I began to wonder if he even read the note or someone had thrown it away. When I saw him in the hallway, he didn't let on any different than normal.

Later that afternoon, I went into the kitchen for a snack. We still had one apple and a few oranges left. I grabbed the apple and as I turned around, I nearly ran into Maurice. I hadn't heard him come in.

"Maurice. What's up?" I asked.

"Nuthin. Just came in here for a snack. How 'bout an apple?"

"Sorry. This is the last one," I replied. "All that's left are oranges."

"That's okay," he said softly. He started approaching me, staring, and I backed up. Looking into his brown eyes, I could see no look of anger or malice. I had fallen prey to the cobra. I continued backing up until I bumped into the wall.

"I was really looking forward to an apple, Jeff." He put one arm up against wall; the other arm slowly rose and then he had me trapped. Closing the distance between us, he never blinked.

"Ya know. I was beginning to think that you'd do just about anything I asked you to," he whispered softly. He gave me a seductive smile.

Sheer terror raced through my body. I've never been so frightened in all my life. He had the note. He had me. Would it be blackmail? Would I get fired for writing the note? My mind raced for a second or so. My heart was pounding.

"Can I have the apple now?" he asked softly. I nodded.

"Can I have the note back?" I asked. He shook his head.

"I may need that later," he replied. "It's my insurance. You are doing the rounds tonight. I know you'll be checking on me. I might give it back."

I nodded. "Thank you."

"I didn't say that I'd give it back. And if you try to take it back -- well, we don't want that. Do we Jeff?"

Again, I felt terror. He sensed it. I shook my head "no" and he smiled. He took the apple from me and took a big bite out of it as he walked away.

The rest of the day, I was on the verge of an anxiety attack. My career, my life, and everything else was closing in around me. What had I done? What had I gotten myself into?

The time came. It was 10:00 and it was "lights out." We had a security guard on the first floor of Hatcher House, but I was on my own on the second. I could lock the kids in if I had to, but that seldom ever happened. We got along pretty darn well and they liked having a little trust and freedom. I still carried my keys as I checked on them; I could lock their doors if I ever had to. Nervously, I approached Maurice's room. The door was partially closed. As I opened it slightly, I heard a voice.

"Jeff, that you? Shh. Come in here."

I crept into the room, quietly closing the door behind me.

"What's up, Maurice?" I whispered.

"I feel sorry for you. Man, I'd thought about fucking you over, but I can't. You too nice to me. I can't help it you a fag, but dat's jus' you. I'll give ya da note back."

"Thank you. You can't imagine how much better that makes me feel," I told him.

"Wait a minute," he hissed. "Not without a price. I need a favor."

"Like what? I can't go and--" Maurice interrupted me by pulling the covers down.

"Suck my cock," he whispered. "You promised to do whatever I wanted."

I was taken aback. I approached the bed and leaned over. His cock was nearly hard. It was a beautiful, deep black color. I marvelled at the length and size of it. Taking it in my hand, I realized that it must be at least nine inches long and it was so thick I could barely get my hand around it.

"Yeah baby," he whispered. "Suck it for me. You know you want to."

I moved lower and took his spongy cockhead into my mouth. Bathing it in saliva, I worked a hand up and down the shaft. Soft moans escaped his mouth. I licked down the black shaft until I reached his balls. I smelled a manly scent rising from his crotch. In my efforts to lick around his nuts, my tongue strayed lower.

"Yeah. That's it. Lick my ass. Oh yeaahh--" The taste was mild, somwhat like soap. I didn't mind running my tounge around his asshole. Grabbing his meaty buns, I pulled them apart and delved further into his butt. It was delicious and I loved eating it. From the sounds of things, he was enjoying it even more. I started working my tongue up inside the tight little hole.

Maurice's hand started stroking up and down on his young cock as I ate his ass. I heard his breathing pick up as his hand moved faster. I placed my mouth over the knob of his dick and sucked in as his body began to quiver. I pressed my finger just below his nutsack and I could feel loads of cum starting to build up. I sucked harder on his cock as his ass came off the bed.

"Yeah, that's it. Suck-- MMMMM-- Man, suck my fucking cock. You do it to me, yeah-- I'm gonna cum in your mouth. That's it. Use some tongue. That's right. Here it comes. MMMM. MMMM-- Ah-- AHHHHHH!"

The first blast hit with a lot of force. I swallowed as much as I could. Maurice shot a total of five loads of hot, salty juice into my mouth. I gulped it all down. Pulling the sheet back over him, I kissed him on the cheek.

"Thank you," I said.

"Hey, dat note. It's in da nightstand. Take it back. You cool."

"Thanks, Maurice. I appreciate it."

"Don' mention it. You'll be back. T'morrow night I'm gonna have me a piece of that white booty. And you gonna let me 'cause I know how bad you want it."

"I want it right now. Fuck me, Maurice."

"No, I'll do it when I say I gonna do it. Tomorrow. I got off tonight already. And I want me another apple tomorrow. You know where I gonna be."

"Good night Maurice."

"Night."

I closed the door, breathing a sigh of relief. I was about to tear up the note when I got back to my office. Turning it over, I read it. I was startled to see a note at the bottom. It said:

Thank you for being so nice to me.

Love, Maurice

If you liked this story, please write to me and tell me so. America Online shut down my private archive of hot gay stores, but they still exist in the Nifty archive. Please look for them and enjoy them. Thanks to those of you who have written. My early stories were rough, poorly proofread, etc. Since that time, I've gotten an A in both my Comp I and Comp II classes. Thanks for the words of encouragement.

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