The Newest Staff Member

[denVERScub]

THE NEWEST STAFF MEMBER
Part 1: MeaTing the appliCUNTS

“NEXT!” Riley called at full volume into the large gymnasium/impromptu waiting room, before glancing up and realizing there was only one kid still waiting to interview for the sales position. “Oh sorry kid…didn’t see you there…you know this position is for 18 or older, right?”

“Yessir,” responded the lad who Riley guessed to be 15 at the oldest, based on his height, smooth skin, round cheeks and the layer of baby fat still clinging to his trim frame. Sensing the older man’s disbelief, the boy produced his Velcro wallet by tugging on the chain connecting it to his neon green belt, which contained a driver’s license that showed him to be 18 only two weeks before. “See dude…I mean, sir. Just turned 18 on the 23rd of last month.”

“I see that,” Riley said, still examining the ID. The edge of the window containing the laminated sheet conveniently covered the expiration date, making the man smirk to himself. He remembered using the same trick when using his cousin’s expired ID to get into clubs in college. Still the boy was able to answer all the trick questions Riley could come up with (what is your sign? Isn’t your house right down the street from ______? I guess that means you graduated in _____?), so he let it drop and turned his attention to the kid’s application as he turned to head back into the office.

“I don’t wanna waste your time young man,” Riley said to the boy, offering him a seat across the small desk from where he’d set up his laptop. “We’re looking for someone with some sales experience, and the only work you’ve done is mowing lawns and walking dogs.”

“If you give me a chance Mr. um” The boy paused, realizing he’d forgotten to catch Riley’s name when he announced it to the group earlier that morning.

 

“Marx. Riley Marx.” The older man reminded him, smirking again at the inexperience the teen showed.

“Seriously?” The boy’s face widened with a smile, making him seem even younger. “Riley is my name too!”

“Is that so?” Marx returned the smile as he glanced down at the application the teen filled out and turned into him. “This says your name is Robert Dawson.”

“Uh, yeah.” The boy’s voice cracked as his mind sped to find an explanation. “that’s, you know, my, um, legal name. Everyone just, um, CALLS me Riley, cause, um, my Dad’s name is Robert too and that way we don’t get mixed up.”

It was more likely that this young man really was named Riley and the ID and name belonged to a similar looking older brother or perhaps even a family friend, but Riley Marx decided he would let it slide since the boy seemed so relieved that he was not asking any follow up questions. Instead he sat back and listened to the determined teen insist that, given the chance, he’d prove himself to be a hard worker, quick learner and dedicated employee. He told a sad tale of his acceptance into a program at the nearby community college, but being unable to afford it as the 5th of 7 kids. It was tempting to hire the boy, but Marx knew better than to give in to such fancies when corporate sent him to handle the hiring of a new sales force at jobfairs like this one. They cared very little about sweet stories and high hopes in comparison to high volume sales and technical know-how.

Heartbroken, the boy stood and shook the hand of the 43 year old interviewer and walked slowly towards the door, nodding along as he heard the same reasons he’d heard at every interview he’d been to since dropping out of school and getting his GED. As he was about to step back into the gym, now eerily quiet and lonely with no one left waiting, he stopped and turned to make one last plea.

“Please sir, I gotta get some money and move out on my own. I can’t take another day sleeping in a room with my 3 brothers, sharing one bathroom between the 9 of us,” the younger Riley begged, his eyes welling up with tears. The older Riley was still ready to stand firm until the boy uttered the three most perfect words: “I’ll do anything.”

“I can’t hire you for the company,” Riley Marx repeated, causing the boy to look down and sigh, but his gaze shot up as the man continued. “But, if you’re willing, I’ve been looking for someone to work for me as a pool cleaner, grounds keeper and general go-fer at my house. I can’t pay much, but you could stay in the basement while you’re working for me, and there should be plenty of spare time for you to find another part-time job and perhaps even start school again.”

“I’LL TAKE IT! ” The boy shouted, lunging back into the room and thrusting his hand into the older man’s palm. “Thanks so much dude, this is awesome-“

“Not so fast!” The man said, stopping the pumping hand grasping his own, and pulling the teen in slightly. “If I’m gonna put my ass on the line for you, there will be no more of this Dude stuff. It will be Sir or Mr. Marx, and I will call you Riley or kid, got it?”

“Yes Ri- I mean Yes sir, Mr. Marx.” The teen was a quick study.

“Good, and one more thing,” Mr Marx lowered his voice and pulled the teen even closer, until his sandy brown mop of hair was so near to Mr. Marx’ nose that he could smell the cheap shampoo and sweet scent of hair gel, making his dick begin to harden inside his designer briefs. “I can’t have my neighbors thinking I hired some random kid off the streets or wake up to your parents banging on my door, demanding I return their little boy, so as far as your family is concerned, you tell them you’ve got a job working as a camp counselor and won’t be able to call or text or anything except occasionally email. If anyone near my house asks, you’re my nephew, and you’re living with me until you find a job, understood kid?”

“Yes sir, Mr Marx. Thank you sir!” They shared a momentary “bro-hug” (one arm pat on the back while shaking the other arm) and the teen dashed off with instructions to check his email when he got home, where he would find Mr. Marx address and the time and day that weekend he was to arrive.
Now that the kid was gone, Marx wasted no time in opening his laptop, freeing his hard cock from his khakis and briefs and setting to work to find the boy on social media. With the help of the 20 year old female profile, (Tricia) he’d created to aid in such searches, he quickly landed on the home page, blog and profile of one Riley Dawson. Jerking furiously, he scrolled through album after album of pictures from school dances, summer parties, family vacations, until he found some pictures from a friend’s slumber party with a lock on them. Two lines of flirting with the boy who’d posted them and a friend request from Tricia was all it took to get the password and Marx had to slow his stroking to stop from cumming right then and there.

From start to finish, the photos showed the kid and a few buddies performing a strip show for some girls, each lad eventually ending up in nothing but a sock pulled on over his semi-hard teen tent pole. Some of the teens were better hung or more ripped, but none of them had the cute, innocent, cherubic look that Riley Dawson had. Plus, the kid was nearly hairless from head to toe, except for a light dusting under each arm, a slight trail from his belly button to his “sock” and some peach fuzz on his calves, forearms and buns. The most promising pictures appeared once the boys were back in their boxers though. A set showing the underage party goers enjoying a bottle of jack daniels, jello shots and a very large bong with a huge bowl filled to the brim with green, sticky-looking weed. The last photo in the collection featured the kid, bong in one hand, plastic cup filled with jack and coke in the other, as he exhaled a mighty cloud of smoke towards the camera.

Jumping up with his pants around his ankles and dashing as best he could to the door, Marx locked it and shut the blinds over the window looking out from the rec center office onto the empty gym. He could hear the sounds of kids playing ball in the next gym over and occasionally their coach’s whistle, but he risked the possibility of being found in favor of smoking while jerking to the photos of his new guest.

Whipping out his glass bubble, he sparked the torch and melted the crystal puddle inside it. His hand left his throbbing 9 inch prime cut of meat long enough to take a massive hit from the pipe, before setting it aside and continuing his work. He imagined how easy it was going to be to convince the kid to try smoking tina,

and with a small dose of g to ease the road, how much fun they’d have once he had the kid, nude, lubed and stuffed full of his massive member. Closing his eyes and seeing the teen’s smile, he heard the boy’s voice repeat over and over “I’ll do anything”

and could see his face change into a gasp of ecstasy as his imaginary penis covered them both in boycum, while his sweet virgin hole took every inch of Marx meat until he was swallowed entirely by boybuns.

Fountains of sperm erupted from the perverted drug-dealing middle-aged man’s cock at that moment. The desk, keyboard, screen, cheap carpet, squeaky old rolling chair, his shirt, pants, briefs, tie and even the calendar pinned up behind him all received a healthy shot of seamen across them, soaking in where they could, and otherwise drying until sticky and crusty white. When the last spasm shook his body, Mr. Marx collected himself, emailed the photos to a couple of friends and packed up his belongings. The idea of cleaning his fluids from the office furniture or at least wiping off the boys basketball calendar crossed his mind, but he decided to leave things as they were, since no one would be back to this office for a few hours anyway, and by then the stains would be mistaken for spilled soda or sunscreen.

“Shit,” Mr. Marx stopped just outside the door to the exit, and turned instead to the locker room, since he could see the splash of cum across his oxford, tie and pants now that he was under the fluorescent lights of the gym once more. Standing at the sink, he dabbed the spots with cold water, and while he saved the shirt and khakis, he knew there was no chance for the tie. Untying it and pulling it from round his neck, he rolled it up and tucked it in his pocket, deciding to save it anyway, his mind filling with naughty thoughts of how many ways he could use it to restrain his new teenage boytoy. His cock was hard again, so he turned around and walked back towards the stalls, only stopping when he heard a soft moan coming from a changing booth at the far end of the lockerroom.

 

Glancing down to where it originated, he had a hard time seeing since the lights were out at that end and the sun had set enough to only give a soft glow through the frosted glass bricks that lined the top of the stalls. Still, he couldn’t miss the unmistakable sound of a lighter clicking and a boy coughing while an older voice whispered “that’s good boy. Take another hit then get back to sucking my cock.”

Sneaking closer, careful to be as quiet as possible, Mr. Marx smiled as the occupants came into view. The older voice belonged to the Basketball coach and Mr. Marx longtime friend who allowed him to use the gym for interviews. The young coughs belonged to a teen from the team, who was so busy puffing at the pipe and thrusting his hard cock against the coach’s, that he never saw the two old pervs share a smile and the coach signal for Mr. Marx to come join them. The boy choked and coughed on his huge cloud, but the coach wasted no time before shoving the young college bound ball player’s head towards his hefty 8 inch uncut black meat. With his mouth impaled on the black battering ram,

no one heard his muffled scream as Mr. Marx unleashed his dripping dick and speared it up the boy’s hole.

Crying and struggling, the boy was no match for the two older, more experienced men, who had raped barely legal lads like him for nearly twenty years together. It wasn’t until he was so defeated that he went limp that his arms were allowed to fall from where the coach had twisted them behind his back. Knees buckling, he only whimpered as they twirled him onto his back on the changing booth floor and continued tag teaming his hole while feeding him hit after hit off the pipe. Soon he had two sizeable cumloads inside him, and his own boyjizz splattered all over his smooth tan abs, team jersey, and smeared across his coffee colored lips and burgeoning black moustache.

“Thanks for letting me get in on that,” Marx said as the men watched the teen limp to his beaten-up old sedan and speed off towards home. Experience told him not to worry about the young man possibly reporting him for rape. To young latin studs like him, masculinity was everything, and if it got out that he’d taken the sperm of a black stallion and some white business man, he’d be dead to his family, and never be able to find a woman who would marry him. “I’ll text you this weekend, Coach, once my new pool boy moves in and you can return the favor after I break in his virgin ass.”

“Sounds good Mr. Marx,” The muscular black 47 year old replied as they parted ways in the parking lot. “Been awhile since we shared a virgin, you gonna invite all the guys?”

“Maybe,” Marx replied, feeling his dick throb again. “we’ll see if I think he can survive a gang bang like that…”

End of part 1

[boy4you]

Very nice start please keep it going and great pictures.

[rawrawraw76]

Fuckin' hot as always, chempig...

[bareall77]

Nice start...fuck! Keep going man!

[ahungfundude]

very horny story -- all the elements that i love.  eager for the next post

[New2Bottom4pnpBB]

I can't wait for more!

[Chipperoo9]

Absolutely amazing! I so can't wait to see how you corrupt the boy

[pghpigbtm]

fucking hot start!  can't wait to see what twisted direction this story takes.

[TTFN]

Great story and wonderful pictures especially the Big Black Cocks.

[denVERScub]

Thanks for the encouragement guys! Writing part two today and tomorrow!

[joboy_xxx]

excellent

[Guest]

Holy shit. This is going to be a great ride.

[arseboy]

Great start ice got a strange feeling I wanna be Riley in this one....

[Docebrown]

Brilliant start looking forward to part 2.

[Njoy1977]

Looking forward to the continuation...