Hey guys, here's the eighth chapter in the series about 24-year-old Grady's relationship with Tyler, a 19-year-old former hustler. Last time, the guys went to a party together but Tyler was worried that someone might recognize him from his previous life. Grady did his best to ease his mind but realized the only real solution was for both of them to leave Houston and start over somewhere new.
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Ever since the night of Rob's party, moving to California had become the focus of our lives. It was something to get excited about, something to keep us going no matter what. It was on our minds first thing every morning and it was the last thing we'd talk about each night when we went to bed. Nothing could hurt us, nothing could even touch us, because everything else in the world was only temporary. Because soon we'd be living in California.
I guess we were a little overboard. The guys at the pool started calling us "the California Boys" because we couldn't shut up about it. They mocked us for it but really they were on our side. Every one of them had thought about doing the same thing, at one time or another. They liked the fact that we were getting ready to do it for real.
In truth, I wasn't quite sure how much of it was real and how much was an idle fantasy. Neither of us had ever been there. We knew next to nothing about the place, except for what we'd seen in the movies and on TV... and that was sure to be mostly bullshit. In our minds it was more like a dream place than somewhere people actually lived. As much as we talked and imagined and wondered about it, we really didn't have the first clue what we were doing.
"It looks really big on the map," Tyler said. "Where would we live? San Francisco?"
I frowned. "I've heard summers there are pretty chilly, like they wear sweaters in July. And homeless people shit all over the sidewalks."
"Oh, never mind then. If we can't even go to the beach, what's the point?"
"How about L.A.?" I asked.
His nose wrinkled. "Too L.A."
"Yeah. I know what you mean."
You'd think we could figure out something as basic as a destination pretty quick but it seemed to take forever to make up our minds. Once we got started talking about it, we'd both get so excited we'd end up wrestling each other into bed, and whatever good intentions we'd had about working out details and logistics would fall by the wayside. The net result was that for all the talk about going, we couldn't manage to get even one step closer to actually going.
"What about San Diego?" I asked him one night, in a moment of inspiration.
Tyler suddenly perked up on the mattress beside me. "I dunno... what are people like there?"
I shrugged. "Not sure. It's a big military town, so I guess it has lots of young guys who came there from someplace else."
"Sounds good. Is it near the ocean?"
"Yeah, there are plenty of beaches, even a nude beach."
His eyes got wide. "Really??"
Before I could say another word he was cuddling up against me, telling me how much he'd love to swim naked with me in the ocean and then lie beside me on a beach towel drying off in the sun. Needless to say, our cocks were hard in no time. I felt his rubbing against my leg and I turned to him, smiled, reached over and stroked the back of his neck. He gave me that shy look like always, the one that made me so fucking stiff it hurt. I pulled him in close and kissed him, our tongues curling and playing together while I grazed his cock with mine.
Tyler was super excited. He made little yelping, whimpering sounds as we kissed. His muscles tightened and bulged. His whole gorgeous body was rippling and flexing against me, teasing me, searching out fresh and interesting junctures of skin on skin and flesh on flesh. All at once he rolled on top of me crushing down on me with all his weight, mauling me with his lips.
I knew what that meant. He wanted to be top dog tonight. And there was nothing on earth I wanted more.
I reached back across the bed, fumbling for the nightstand and the lube. Tyler caught my wrist, grabbed the other and pinned both hands above my head. He grinned at me, grinding his chest against mine, his silky blond chest hair tickling me in a way that drove me fucking wild.
"God damn it," I begged him, "get that fucking meat inside me!"
He laughed, trying hard to sound evil but it came out too adorably goofy. That started me giggling so he shifted gears and tried to tickle me... but I already knew he was way more ticklish than me. I attacked his pits and that extra sensitive zone just below his nipples and he yelped in panic and then seized up, shuddering all over, eyes watering as he struggled unsuccessfully to choke back a fit of violent giggles.
I took him in my arms, cradling him as he trembled miserably. I knew he loved to be held like that; more than anything else he loved to feel that I was taking care of him. When he'd caught his breath and the quaking began to subside I reached back and grabbed the lube, squeezed out a little and slicked it up and down his shaft. He relaxed and smiled and stretched out on the bed and I brushed the hair back off his forehead, leaned in and gave him a loving kiss.
It didn't take any more than that to jumpstart his engine again. His eyes lit up and he snagged me in both arms, rolled me onto my back and wedged himself in between my knees. I grinned as he kissed my neck and gnawed on my ears, unleashing his animal urges. I spread my legs wide and lifted my knees and he positioned himself and bore down on me like a mountain goat in rut.
My hole spread eagerly as his fat cock head pushed in and his shaft slid smoothly up my chute, inch by inch until it was buried in me completely. I took his thrusts one after the next; it made me so goddamn happy to be filled with his meat. When Tyler fucked me I felt completely satisfied, more than anything I'd ever experienced in my life... except for maybe when it was my turn on top.
He was physical but never rough; he pumped me energetically, almost like a workout, like two young jocks in training together for... what? The answer was pretty clear. In bed like this, we were the California Boys; we were already there on some beautiful beach banging it out before a glorious sunset, building toward a shattering climax to spill our seed onto the sand of the Promised Land. The whole idea of it, our shared dream, made our dicks so much harder and our sex more lively and fun, and our orgasms all the more special and joyful and intense.
Tyler grunted as he pitched his cock into me and dragged it out slow, reveling in the way my hole gripped and twitched on his shaft. He was on another level, his eyes rolling back in his head. Without needing to look he groped for my package and stroked me, lightly at first and then picking up speed to keep up with his quickening thrusts. He began jacking me vigorously and I knew he was on the brink and ready to blow, and wanted us to cum together. It was so fucking sweet that he always wanted us both to shoot at the same time.
Suddenly he rammed in deep and held it there, his muscles tight and lined with veins. His body jolted and he let out a sharp desperate cry as he blasted his hot load into me. I let myself go, released a big surge of cream that gushed out onto my abs and chest in thick white splatters. Our bodies rocked and jerked together, pouring out our juices, reeling with each great wave of pleasure that washed over us. When we were both nearly done spurting our loads he pulled me in, wrapped me up in his arms and rolled with me on the mattress until we'd dribbled out our last.
My cum was smeared all over his torso and mine. Tyler dipped his fingers in, tasted it and then fed it to me. I sucked it off his fingers eagerly, loving the taste of my own juice mixed with my sweat and his. We shared a grin, licked each other dry and then snuggled into each other's arms to fall asleep.
Once we'd decided that San Diego would be our new home, our fantasy became a good deal more pragmatic. We focused not so much on the dream lifestyle as things like where exactly we should live, and how much apartments cost. We learned the gay community was centered in the Hillcrest neighborhood, a little ways north of downtown and six miles from the nearest beach. There were freeways going everywhere but still the traffic was a mess. And rent was a whole lot higher than Houston.
The more I looked into it, the more I realized we were nowhere near ready to pack up and head to the coast... but even getting as far as we had seemed to do Tyler a world of good. Where once he'd dreaded the thought of running into someone who knew him as a hustler on the streets, suddenly he seemed to have a thirst for going out in public. We went out to dinner two or three nights a week, caught up on the latest movies, spent Sunday afternoons at the park or strolling through the zoo. It felt like we were making up for lost time, doing all the romantic dating stuff that ordinary people get out of the way early, but the two of us never had a chance to.
I knew what was going on. He was saying his goodbyes to the city. Not that he was in any way sentimental about it; the years he'd spent in Houston were far from the best of his life. More like he was marking his territory, declaring to himself and the world that he'd seen the place, he'd lived there, and he'd survived. If anyone recognized him now, it wouldn't be as a former hustler, but as a guy who'd risen above his past and was on his way to someplace better. The new memories he built with me in our final weeks would go a long way toward burying the old nightmares for good.
We didn't stop in at the gay bars though. Tyler was still underage, not that it'd ever slowed him down before, but the places that would let him in were exactly the ones he'd left behind in his old life and never wanted to see again.
He was ready to load up the car and head west on a moment's notice. I was the one holding us back. To live in California, we had to be making real money somehow... or, more accurately, I would. Tyler's two months of experience as a delivery van driver would hardly put him in line for a top notch salary. I had to count on finding a job that would pay well enough to support us both, and I'd need to find it in a hurry, before my meager life savings ran out.
And don't get me wrong, I'd never complain or hold it against him. He was still a teenager for Christ's sake; if the world was at all fair he'd be a sophomore in college. But that's not the way it happened, and lucky for me it didn't. I'd gladly spend my last dollar if it meant we'd stay together.
What I learned pretty quick was that finding a job two time zones away wasn't easy. My experience with the whole process was hardly more impressive than Tyler's. I was gainfully employed in Houston only because a recruiter came to my campus. I signed up for a time slot, answered a few questions and next thing I knew I was on my way to Texas. Now, after two years of sitting at a desk and collecting a paycheck, it suddenly hit home that when it came to finding a job on my own, I didn't know what the fuck I was doing.
Of course I looked into all the standard online resources. And I learned to put together a resume... which looked pretty barren only two years out of school. I created profiles on job search websites and did my best to research major employers in San Diego, all of which seemed to be getting me nowhere. I didn't know if I was doing something wrong or if that's just the way things worked.
"When do you think we'll be ready to go?" Tyler would ask me now and again. Not often enough to be annoying, but it cut deep every time. Even worse was that hopeful look in his eyes at the end of every day, wondering if maybe that was the day I'd tell him to start packing his bags.
I'd made him a promise. He was counting on me. And I wasn't coming through.
"Don't worry about it," he told me. "You're an amazing guy. You know all kinds of things, you're great at what you do. Any company would be lucky to have you. All you need to do is make the right connection. It'll happen, you'll see."
I could only give him a nod and smile weakly. It wouldn't do any good to try and explain. The corporate world was as foreign to him as living on the moon; he just didn't have the background to understand it. So I kept it all to myself, as much as I could. I sat at my desk in my cubicle filling out spreadsheets and secretly wishing I was riding in a van with Tyler, dropping packages on people's doorsteps, ringing the bell and running away. Or better yet, that we were both back on my old campus living in my old dorm room, and the biggest concern our lives was passing a calculus exam.
It wasn't long before I hit the wall.
We'd been taking Fridays off from the gym so we could get home a little earlier and plan a fun evening. It had been a particularly bad day. I'd been plugging in numbers, doing calculations, and sitting through godawful boring meetings for hours on end. It seemed ridiculous that someone would actually pay me for doing that shit. And it seemed even more ridiculous that those were the skills I was banking on to snag a high paying job in the land of my dreams.
By the time I got home, I was a mess. Without our usual session of pushing the weights around to sweat off the day's frustrations, I had nothing to level my head. The whole idea of moving to California felt hopeless, absolutely futile. And there was Tyler looking at me with that look as always, and I lost it. Stormed into the bathroom and slammed the door shut and curled into a tight little ball in the corner, wedged in between the toilet and the tub. I couldn't catch my breath. My heart was racing so bad I was afraid it'd burst.
A couple minutes passed before he rapped lightly on the door, and then when I didn't answer, another minute before he called my name and came in to find me. He rushed to my side genuinely afraid; kneeled down, slipped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me upright.
"Grady? Are you all right?"
My eyes met his and I broke down completely.
"I'm sorry... I'm fucking useless. I don't know what I'm doing. This is way the fuck over my head; it's impossible. I'm stupid for thinking I could do it."
He pulled me in and wrapped his arms around me, and I buried my face in his shoulder so he wouldn't see the goddamn tears leaking from the corners of my eyes.
"It's okay," he said. "It doesn't matter. You're doing fine."
"No, I'm fucking not. You were counting on me..." my voice cracking miserably "...and I've been getting fucking nowhere for weeks and weeks. I let you down."
"You haven't let anybody down. Not for a minute. So maybe we stay here a little bit longer, and we go to California later. So what? What's it matter? We're good."
I looked up into his eyes -- I'm sure I must have been a mess -- and he smiled and held onto me tight and kissed my forehead.
"Are you sure?" I asked him.
"Yes. Your only problem is you're thinking about it too hard. The future's a big deal, too big to handle. But we don't live in the future. We live here and now. All we need to worry about is today... and today's okay. Isn't it?"
He seemed to be making sense. "I guess so..."
"Of course it is. You'd know it is too, if you just got out of those work clothes."
He slowly unbuttoned my shirt, one button at a time, like he was afraid if he went too fast I'd bolt up and run. I was too wiped out to resist. He pulled my shirt off and then peeled off his own, and wrapped his arms around me and held on. His warm flesh felt so good against mine, so very soothing. I stayed there snug in his arms, neither of us saying a word, just breathing in and out and feeling our hearts beating against each other.
"You wanna try and stand up?" he asked me at last.
"Sure. Okay."
We rose to our feet together and he steered me into the bedroom, pulled down the covers and sat me down on the mattress. I let him take my shoes and socks off, unbuckle my belt and strip off my pants. He shed his own clothes down to his briefs and climbed into bed with me, and we pulled the covers over us and cuddled in our underwear.
As bad as I'd felt just a few minutes before, being in bed with Tyler made everything seem magically all right. His arms around me, his legs tangled up with mine and that muscular torso pressed against me drained all the anxiety from my head. He was right; on that day, at that moment, we were good. Better than ever. Nothing else mattered.
And once my head had come back down to earth, the rest of my body soon followed. I found myself with a raging boner straining against the cotton of my briefs.
Tyler picked up on it right away... telepathy no doubt, or maybe it was those little whimpering sounds I made. Either way, before I knew it his hand was drifting down my abs and slipping into the waistband of my briefs. Five fingers curled around my shaft as he tugged at my underwear with his other hand, yanked them down and with my help pulled them off over my ankles.
He flashed me a grin as he ducked his head down toward my crotch. His tongue flicked out and teased my cock head and I drew in a quick sharp breath and moaned softly. He kissed the head and all over my shaft, and ran his tongue long and slow from the base to the tip in a way that gave sent goosebumps crawling all over me.
And then he was plunging my cock into his mouth. I took his head gently in both hands, burying my fingers in his bushy hair, loving the warm slippery wetness engulfing my meat. He took me in all the way, swallowed my cock whole, shoving the swollen head down his throat. And then began sucking me in and out with a slow easy rhythm, working every grateful inch of my shaft with lips and tongue.
Tyler was a cocksucking expert; I'd always known it. But somehow this time felt different, more intense, better than ever. Maybe it was only my own jangled nerves reacting, but I'd swear he'd been saving the best blow job of my life for just this moment. It was wonderful beyond measure. Every move he made -- his hand gripping my balls and gently massaging, his nose tickling my pubes on each downstroke, the insanely perfect action of his mouth lighting me up from head to toe -- seemed to have something just a little extra, something he'd been holding in reserve for the day I needed it the most.
And he didn't let up for a second; he worked my cock nonstop, always in motion, always throwing in a surprise little twist of his tongue or press of his lips to heighten my pleasure. In no time my nuts were begging to be drained but he tugged on my sack to hold down my load and kept driving on and on.
I threw my head back and shut my eyes as a dull ache spread from my crotch over my whole body. I needed to cum so fucking bad but couldn't; he wouldn't let me. I was suffering terribly, in the worst, most exciting and enjoyable way I'd ever felt in my life. Finally I gave up, surrendered my body to him and just tried my best to endure.
He knew what he was doing. He'd sensed everything I was feeling from the beginning. And when he had me at his mercy, when he knew I'd reached my limit, he pulled the trigger and let me blow.
An enormous surge of cum welled up from my balls and gushed from my cock, flooding his mouth. My body bucked and quaked as I spouted again and again, a fresh load of hot cream and a huge rush of pleasure coming with every jolt. Tyler gulped it all down, smiling at me with his eyes, swallowing and swallowing as I kept on spurting and spewing. By the end my muscles were so spent I couldn't even twitch anymore; I just laid back and let the seed spill out of me until it had all disappeared down Tyler's gullet.
I lay on the mattress barely able to move, huffing out long deep breaths. Tyler moved up alongside me and huddled close, his bright eyes gazing into mine and an arm draped across my chest. I smiled back sheepishly.
"Thanks for taking care of me," I said. "Sorry I was so messed up."
Tyler shrugged. "It's nothing to worry about. You had a panic attack. They're pretty common where I come from."
I looked him over with a bit of amazement. Of course he'd had to deal with a lot of high emotions. In the world of street kids, it must be an everyday thing. And the way he handled it so smoothly made me realize he was a lot stronger and a lot more capable than I'd been giving him credit for. He was truly someone I could lean on when I needed him, the same as he could always lean on me.
"It's just that I knew you were counting on me, and I felt like I was fucking up."
"I only counted on you to be human. And you're doing a great job of that."
I snuggled in a little closer. "So... is that the way you always snap people out of a panic attack?"
"Depends." He smirked. "Yeah, sometimes. But..."
"What?"
"Well, I usually don't enjoy it near as much."