Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Role Model : by (c) Hamilton Joyce.

   The younger lad recognised him immediately although he had left school
about three years before.  He had been an alpha male even as a teenager, a
great athlete, artist, and all-round winner.

   The first thing you saw about him now was his salesman's smile, perfect
white teeth in that ebony face.

   'Hey, man!  You're Cassius Monroe aren't you?'

   'Right!'

   'I still go to Ebbsworth.  I can remember you.  I was in first year when
you left.  I'm Paul Simon.'

   'Bad luck!  I mean about Ebbsworth, not the name, Paul.'

   Ebbsworth was a distinctly bad inner-city school.  Julian's parents had
been the sort of leftish liberals who thought it better to send their child
to the local state comprehensive rather than the private education they
could well have afforded.

   'Still, what can we do for you?'

   'I'm to pick up the tickets for my Dad.'

   Julian's parents were to holiday in the Seychelles this year, though
Julian would stay in London with his Grandmother in Pimlico.

   The tickets and brochures were ready in an envelope and handed over.

   'Old Craphead still there?'

   'Yes!  and Mr Holdsworth's my form tutor.  I've been collecting some
stuff for him this afternoon, printer ink cartridges and some blank disks.'


   The conversation wandered through school teachers and events until:
'Say, Julian, I'm knocking off in five minutes and going to an art
exhibition.  Fancy coming along?'

   Julian had nothing at all in common with Cassius.  The one was big
built, athletic, talented, extrovert, eighteen, and black.  The other
slender, bookish, retiring, fourteen, and white, but there was a sort of
rapport between the two.  Cassius had a justifiably high opinion of
himself, but Julian thought himself a bit of a wimp and a weakling: it
would have astounded him to have known that many of the girls in his year
considered him "cute", and "dishy".  They used to think the same about
Cassius: Cassius knew it but didn't give a toss for what they thought!
The exhibition was in a small, rather expensive little gallery in
Mayfair, and was of three Japanese airbrush artists.  The gallery owner, a
Lebanese or Syrian Julian decided, knew Cassius and was very affable.  'He

buys some of my paintings, specially commissioned,' whispered Cassius.

   Cassius studied in detail each of the paintings displayed and explained
to his new young friend the techniques used and the tricks of composition.
Julian found it enthralling, mainly because of his new friend's enthusiasm,
and a certain animal vitality the young man exuded.  Finally they said
their goodbyes to Mr Yossarian.

   'The picture's nearly done.  Next weekend I should think!'

   As they walked back to Green Park tube station, 'You doing anything this
afternoon?  If not, come back to my place and I'll show you what I do when
I'm not a bloody travel agent.  It's over at the Barbican.'

   .................................................................

   Cassius' flat was tiny.  Five rooms (living, kitchen, bedroom, studio,
shower & toilet), but each was miniscule.  'It's not much, but in about a
hundred and fifty years it'll be all mine!  I'll make some coffeee, and
show you my studio.'

   They stood in the kitchenette while a huge Italian coffee machine, all
chromium and glass, hissed and spluttered till it produced two tiny cups of
black coffee, They drank them standing up.

   The studio had the best view in the flat, looking out over the City.

   'It's traditional to choose a studio with North light, and it really is
best.'

   Round the walls paintings were propped, back to the wall.  On an easel a
work-in-progress, a damsel with a sword fighting some sort of demon.

   'Reminds me of Frazetta.....'

   'Now that is indeed praise.  I do these for sci fi and comics
publishers. It pays ok.  But this is where the real money is....'

   He turned one of the paintings to face the room and Paul whistled.

   'Jeez that's good....' The naked blonde was tied to iron rings on a
granite altar while a huge guy fucked her.  The moment was caught when his
cock was half in her, splitting her buttock-crease and showing it's huge,
veiny girth.'

   'There's a good market for these....lots go to Asia.'

   He turned another round.  Again Paul whistled.

   'Now that is not only good, it's dead sexy.'

   As if to prove the point, Cassius could see the boy suddenly get hard,
his cock tenting the crotch of his school uniform trousers.  The picture
was a realistic study of three young men in a classic pose.  The slender
blonde guy was being spit-roasted by a big black stud up his arse and a
huge tattooed white guy into his mouth.  Male muscles rippled, white teeth
shone, and it was so realistic you could almost smell their male passion.

   'You like that one, Paul?'

   'It's great!'

   'Was done from life, though I've cheated a bit and painted myself a bit
bigger than I really am.'

   'That's you up his arse, Cassius?'

   'Sure is!  What I do is set a camera up and have it take pics while we
act out a scene.  Then I can use those shots when I'm painting, to get the
shapes and lighting etc.  Works well.'

   'And must be fun setting it all up.......'

   'It is!  That one's finished and goes to Yossarian once the paint is
real hard.'

   'Speaking of hard......'

   The black guy reached and groped the white boy's crotch.

   'I'm hard too!'

   Paul had never kissed anyone before, at least not a lover's kiss, and
Cassius felt him flinch a moment before the boy melted and their tongues
met.

   As they kissed Cassius took the boy's hand and placed it where he wanted
it, on his now-hard prick.'

   Paul's heart was beating: it was going to happen.  At last his
night-time fantasies were going to come true.  He had an old school
exercise books into which he pasted pictures cut out from magazines, female
models in lingerie some of them, but increasingly looking for handsome men,
athletes and male models.  His night-time reveries were mostly about
muscular men and he was close to accepting that he was gay, or if bi-sexual
mostly gay.  He had tried to by-pass the blocks his Dad had put on his
lap-top so he could see the real thing, but had not yet found how to do it.

   So his heart beat so loud he was sure cassius must hear it, and now his
cock and his bottom were being groped.

   He put his hand on Cassius' crotch and felt the hard there too.

   'Me too....'

   'Let's strip off and play, Paul.'

   ......................................................

   Paul watched as the smart casual jacket, shirt, trousers came off. 
Cassius' body glowed with health and physicality, muscle tone showing in
his arms, thighs, and smooth, hairless chest.  White boxer-cut underpants
hugged his narrow waist, hips, and perhaps slightly jutting bum: if
anything they accentuated his cock, squashed diagonal across them and
clearly outlined, a fascinating bulge.  And as he pushed these down
two-handed, that cock sprang out the top, straight shafted, black, and with
a flaring purple-red knob.  The painting had not exaggerated: Cassius was
sex on legs.

   So often at night alone in bed the young boy had leafed through his
cut-out scrapbook, jerking his cock with one hand, turning the pages with
the other, often lingering on a full-page colour pic of an American
Basket-ball player who had posed for Playgirl.  That always made his cock
spurt boy-juice as he imagined being enfolded in those muscular arms,
kissed even.  And here was the real thing, body just as athletic and now
the cock magnifently erect.  The Playgirl pic had it limp and floppy like a
bit of hose: this was like a truncheon and so, so sexy.

   Entranced by the sight Paul was slower to undress: school uniform had so
many fussy little extras....  school tie, buttoned shirt, grey trousers
with black belt, socks, lace-up shoes: Cassius did not mind.  His first gay
sex had been with boys wearing exactly that uniform and as the young lad
slowly removed it the memories of similar disrobings added to the almost
intolerable tension in his balls and cock.  Finally Paul stood there in his
little-boy white y-fronts.  Cassius felt his cock twitch at the sight of
the near naked boy.  white, scarcely suntanned at all, smooth skin so clear
and silky it seemed almost translucent.  No body hair, pretty little pink
nipples, not as red as the pouting lips, that promised a sensual nature. 
And then the boy lowered his underpants and his little cock stood, slender
like the boy's limbs and whole body, but elegant and straight with the
prettiest pink knob.  Unlike Cassius he was not "cut".

   Cassius wanted him, and be damned to the laws and customs of this
be-nighted realm.  The boy might be only 13 (he had said he was in year 9),
but he was sexually mature....  his cock said that.....  and ready for it.
You could see it in his eyes, his shy smile, and you could almost hear his
heart beating in excitement and anticipation.

   In his last year at school he had several boys in year 8 and 9, but none
as glorious as this, and he had not expected ever to have a boy again once
he left.  Christmas had come early!

   The slightest movement towards Cassius by the boy and they were in each
others' arms again, kissing but now naked body to naked body, hard cocks
and wandering hands communicating their desire for each other.

   'Bed is best....'

   'Oh yes, Cassius.'

   The boy was in a different world now, almost hypnotised by his seducer's
male beauty, by the fulfillment of so many night-time fantasies.  He would
do anything for this God.  Anything!  Even....that!

   'I'll do anything you want, Cassius......'

   'I want, Paul!  The bed's through there.'

   ...............................................

   Paul lay on the bed, head towards the pillow end, but when Cassius lay
beside him it was the other way round, and almost before the boy could
think about the possibilities of this the black man's lips were round his
pink knob pushing the foreskin down and licking it.  The boy found he could
feel Cassius' pecs and his nipples, firm and erect under the boy's hands.
His hair felt so different, crisp and curly but very sexy.  The man was
bobbing his head up and down now, the whole shaft of Paul's cock slipping
in and out his mouth: he cradled the boy's balls with one hand, stroked his
tiny triangle of blonde fuzz with the other.

   'I'll cum if you do that....'

   Paul expected him to stop, but he increased the speed of his bobbing
motion, and pulled at the skin of the boy's tight ball sack.  Surely he
would not want him to cum in his mouth.  Surely not!

   Whether he wanted it or not it was too late now and Paul gasped as he
came, spurting hot boy-juice into the waiting mouth.

   Then it was mouth-to-mouth kissing again, whispered endearments, and
hands feeling each other's body.  Both cocks were hard, Paul's never having
gone limp at all, Cassius' leaking clear pre-cum.

   He could taste his own cum in Cassius' kisses.  His hand slid in the
precum as he handled that long, slender black cock with its broad head. 
'That was lovely!'

   'I'll show you something even better, Paul.

   'Can I do that to you please, Cassius....  I mean suck you....'

   'Of course.  i'd love that.  and I can show you something new while you
do....  '

   The boy slipped down the bed till his head rested on the black, firm
belly, nestling the tight-coiled hair, but Cassius with both arms moved the
boy so his head was still inches from that black cock, but his arse within
easy reach of his seducer.  He pulled Paul closer and buried his face
between the smooth, white, slightly rounded buttocks.  Paul was astonished
as he felt the stubble of the man's cheeks on his tender flesh and even
more so when he felt the kiss placed on his anus.  Surely he wouldn't?  Oh
no!  Surely not!  But it was!  The man was licking Paul's anus, even
slipping his tongue into it.  He was about to protest.  This was gross. 
But it felt good.  It was lovely.  It tickled.  He giggled and the tongue
penetrated even further This must be the new better thing Cassius had
promised.

   That ebony cock was tempting too, so springy and hard, silky-warm
outside, steel inside.  He licked the pre-cum from it's eye: No real taste
but a thrill nonetheless: now with an almost jaw-breaking effort he got the
cock-head in his mouth.  The shaft was more slender, and slid easily in: he
could stop it short of making him gag by holding it in his fist he found.

   Then it became clear that the rimming was not the better thing Cassius
had in mind as he inserted an oily finger into the boy's bottom: a protest
was stifled by the cock in Paul's mouth, and in any case his seducer would
have taken no notice.  This was something every boy should be taught by
some gentle and careful adult.  Something every grown man should know,
understand and appreciate despite the taboos and commandments of religious
bigots.

   Two fingers now and stroking up towards the boy's belly button, seeking
his prostate.

   No reaction yet, the boy fondling Cassius' heavy ball-sack in one hand,
decreasing the length of the cock's shaft with the other, and enjoying the
feel of it as it slid in and out his lips, his tongue fluttering up and
down it.  He could taste, or rather feel the precum now: it must be welling
out he thought.

   And then the prostate woke up, the stroking and pressing massage now
communicating to the boys balls, his cock.

   He had never felt anything like it.  He wanted to tell Cassius that it
felt strange, he could feel it in his bum, yes, but something was happening
in his cock, building, building until with the most immense orgasm he had
ever known the spunk flew from his cock, splattering his belly, his chest,
and some even reaching Cassius.  No porn film "cum-shot" would have got
away with it!  So much cum from a slender boy!

   The sight of flying spunk triggered Cassius and moments after his own
ball-draing cum Paul's mouth was filled with spurt after apurt of hot,
creamy, silky-slidy, bubbling man-cum.  He swallowed and swallowed.

   They lay like that a few moments, Cassius still hard, the boy limp after
two orgasms.

   'What was that, Cassius?  I never felt anything like that before, so
strong....  I came and you didn't even touch my cock.'

   'That was your prostate....I'm the same.  touch me there and I come. 
Try it.  Two fingers up your bum now push them up in there towards your
belly button.  there's a sort of swelling or bump in the wall there.'

   'Jeez yes.  I can feel it.  It's doing it again!'

   The boy's little cock was standing!  Oh to be thirteen again!

   'Don't cum yet!  And I'll show you the best way to get it massaged. 
With another guy's cock.'

   'Your knob's too big.  It'll hurt!'

   'It'll be all right once my knob's in you.  You'll love it when you get
used to it.'

   ..........................................................

   And so, carefully, gently he took the boy's cherry, just as his own had
been taken at Paul's age.

   He had him kneel down, his face in the pillows.  He parted those pretty
arse-cheeks and stroked the pinky-brown anus, tight closed but glistening
from the lube he had used to finger fuck the boy.  It was worth another
kiss and he leaned forward giving himself the luxury of another penetration
with his tongue.  But now to more serious matters!  A scoop of lube from
the pot of Analsilk by the bed, applied first to his cock and then to the
boy's arse, in the crease and inside the anal sphincter, fingers stretching
it at the same time.  Kneel forward, lift the boy's bum an inch or two,
place cock-head on anus.  Push.

   Shout of pain, half-muffled by the boy's face buried in a pillow, but
the cock head well inside him.  Pause and stroke the boy's bubble-buttocks
as one calms a frightened animal whispering how lovely he looks, how pretty
his bottom and back, how it would soon be ok, relax.....

   The fierce gripping of his cock by the boy's anus was replaced by a
satisfying tightness, and he slid the rest of his cock up till his shaved
pubes rested on the boy's arse, black on white.

   Pull out as far as the knob....some more lube on the shaft, and then
gently in again.  No gripping and no cry this time.

   Gently, slowly in and out, hands caressing hips, buttocks, back,
stroking, feeling.

   'OK?'

   'It's ok now.  I think it's rubbing on on my ....  what's it called
again?'

   'Your prostate....'

   It was time to speed up a bit and increase the massage effect.  The
thrusts became more powerful, the withdrawals speedier.

   'Oh, Yes!  That's it.  Like that.'

   Cassius liked long sessions, and could keep his cock erect or nearly so
for hours if he wanted to, a skill much appreciated by his fuck buddies. 
But this first time it would be better to keep it short and sweet
especially as the boy seemed about to cum.  He felt underneath and held the
little cock, rubbing it beteween thumb and forefinger.

   'Jeez!  I'll cum if you do that.'

   'Cum then.'

   The boy-juice bathed his fist, and with a few more thrusts he unloaded
in the boy's bottom.



   .....................................................................

   At the door the boy, school uniformed again, turned and hung around
Cassius' neck inviting the kiss.  It was given....

   'I've never cum so much or so often.  It's lovely....  Can I come round
again?'

   'Of course, any evening.  I get back from work about six.'

   'It's Saturday tomorrow.  I could stay the night if you want.  I'm
staying with my Gran, and she will be ok if I say I'm staying with a
friend.'

   All night with this beauty....viagra and a few spliffs.  A long evening
with some porn and prob some kinky sex too.  Oh yes!

   'I'd love that.  Can you come round about six?'

   'Six it is, Cassius.  I won't bring any pyjamas....  just my
toothbrush.'

   Cassius had a sudden thought: it would be good to have this pretty boy
as a frequent bed-mate, but he did not want Paul to become too fixated on
him.  That could be trouble!  Widen his sexual choice a little!

   'Don't forget your bag for Mr Holdsworth.'

   'I nearly did.  He's always getting me to run errands for him.'

   'You like him?'

   'He's my favourite teacher.'

   'He was mine too.  and I was his favourite pupil.  It's a secret between
you and me, but he's the one who taught me about my prostate....'

   'Jeez!  Mr Holdsworth fucked you?'

   'Often.  And well!  He's got a great body and knows how to use it.  I
loved sex with him.  I'm sure he fancies you, Paul, as he started with me
by getting me to do little jobs for him.  When you give him his disks tell
him you have just spent the afternoon with Cassius, and had a great time
with him, learned a lot!'

   'You think he'll make a pass at me?'

   'Sure he will!  Hope your bottom's not sore....'

   'I think I could enjoy some more, and especially with Mr Holdsworth....'

   The End for now