Little One

“Little One” is probably one of my biggest blog fans. He is just 22 years old, a kid. But he has an old soul — you can talk to him about anything from politics to pussy. The kid is sharp.

He is small in stature with the body of a ballet dancer — slender waist and toned ass and legs. Skin the warm, rich color of brown sugar glaze on ham.

I met him online when I tried to correct the grammar in his sex profile. But he got me straight…he was actually right about the subject/verb agreement. So we started talking and discovered we were both writers. I would read what he wrote and he read my blog.

And a friendship grew.

“Damn, Little One. I have to cook for the kids and can’t think of what to do. I need to do something quick and easy.”

“Hold on man, I’ll send you some casserole recipes.”

And he would email them right away. Now that’s a friend.

But I avoided meeting him. First, he was dazzling handsome and that intimidated me. Secondly he is young enough to be my son. And thirdly he leans toward the effeminate side, which is not my taste.

All summer and into fall he would sometimes ask if I was interested. I would promise I would come but make up an excuse not to.

But last Saturday I was on the way home from a side gig and got an IM from him.

“It’s cold tonight and I’m staying in. Come over and watch a movie with me and stay warm.”

I paused before answering. Thought a while. Decided.

“What’s your address Little One?”

I was there in less than 20 minutes. He greeted me at the door with nothing but a towel around his narrow hips.

“You got here quick. I didn’t have time to shower.”

I work out and stay in shape and my dick still gets hard as a rock. But I was unsure whether we would blend. I am twice his age plus one year.

He invited me to get comfortable and I changed into some jeans and a wife beater I carry in my gym bag and lay across his bed. He asked me what movie I wanted to watch from his collection and I picked “Brother to Brother,” a gay-themed drama.

He had finished showering and still had on the towel. “I need to put on some lotion,” he said.

“Can I do that for you?”


I rubbed the lotion into the arms, massaging them. The his legs. Then I took the brown towel from around his waist. His dick was rock hard. Standing up proud and stiff like a little toy soldier.

It was on.

We sexed literally all night, sucking each other’s dicks, eating each other’s asses, nipples, feet, fingers, necks, scalps, lips, tongues, nuts, underarms… Then we would relax and massage each others limbs. And then start all over. His body was small and tight under mine. Limber as a rubberband.

“Can I fuck you?” I asked.

Little One said I was too big at first. But eventually we decided to try.

“Take it easy. Go in slow. Use more lube.”

Finally my dick slid in. I swear I could feel his pelvic bones rubbing my dick head. Thats just how far I was up in him. His ass was young and tight and wet. I fucked him until he busted a nutt. But when we fucked again he said enough was enough, he could take no more.

So like a good sport I got between those slender brown legs and flicked my tongue against his anus and balls until he jerked his dick and busted the second nutt.

We woke Sunday morning. It was raining. We were still horny. So horny we thought, “Fuck breakfast…let’s keep this shit moving.”

“I want to see you fuck somebody Daddy,” Little One said.

Little freak, I thought. You could grow on an old motherfucker like me.

So I got online and an hour or so later we were freaking with a tall red boy from Georgia, just 25 years old and in our town just a year to the day.

“Happy anniversary,” Little One and I said to him before we both fucked him.

But Georgia boy didn’t excite me like Little One. His ass was loose — he said he didn’t get around but his asshole told the true story. My dick could hardly stay hard. I had been going all night. But Georgia boy busted while Little One was sucking his dick and nutts. And I stood over them and jacked until I busted into Little One’s eager sexy mouth.

“That tastes sweet,” he said.

“Thank you. You know I like to eat a lot of chocolate. It makes that shit sweet,” I answered.

I drove Georgia boy to his part time job and on the way back called Little One and we went out and ate at a nearby soul food restaurant. Smothered pork chops and grits and home fries and pancakes and biscuits. The staff knew him and treated him like a long lost son. Some of the waiters even came over and talked to us.

He was feminine but masculine and confident at the same time. Confident in his skin. You couldn’t help but like the dude.

He talked to me about his ambitions. His plan to open a business and do some stuff in entertainment. He was as busy as I am.

“You’re young. You have your whole life ahead of you,” I said “Go for it. You can do it.”

Little One, I know you read my blog. Thank you for giving me yourself for one day. Maybe one day I’ll come back and finish watching “Brother to Brother” with you.

Photo by Dan Nelson