EXTRA MONEY By Anonymous (M/M)
It was the summer of my 19th birthday and most of my friends were away
on vacation with their families. I
was bored out of my mind when I came up with the idea
of earning extra money by doing grass cutting in the
neighborhood.
Like a dumb shit, I got my Dad's lawn mower out of
the garage in the middle of the afternoon. Not in
the morning when it's cool. No, I had to pick the
middle of the day.
The first house I went to on our street was a bust.
The old lady there said her grass was just fine.
The next two houses were well trimmed. The next
house belonged to Ken. He was an older, widower guy
with a head of gray hair. He wasn't like really old,
just older than my father but, younger than my
grandfather. He always waved to us kids and never
bitched if we decided to cut through his yard to get
to the back alley. Just a nice, friendly guy.
I stepped up on his porch and knocked on the screen
door. I could see into his hallway and part of his
livingroom from where I was standing.
"Hi. What's up? he asked as he approached the door.
"I was wondering if you would like to have the grass
cut?" I asked.
He stepped out onto the porch and looked at his yard.
"Yeah. I guess it could use a trimming. I was going
to get to it tomorrow, but if you want to do it,
fine. How much?"
"Well, I was thinking maybe five dollars," I said.
"Sure, go ahead. Just knock when you're finished."
I went right to work and within fifteen minutes the
sun was doing its damage. I was pissed at myself for
not bringing water along with me.
After I finished, I went up on Ken's porch and
knocked on the screen door again. He opened the
door and motioned for me to come inside.
"You look beat. Want some cold lemonade? I just made
a pitcher."
"Yeah, that sounds great."
"Have a seat in the livingroom. I'll get you a
glass."
I went into the livingroom and plopped down on the
couch. It was nice and cool in his livingroom and I
was glad for the time to rest before I moved on to
the next yard.
And there, on the coffee table in front of me, was
this porno magazine. It was open to photos of a
woman stroking this hard cock. These were just like
the magazines I kept under my bed to beat off to. I
started turning the pages and the photos showed the
woman wrapping her lips around this cock. My cock
began to get hard in my jeans as I looked at the
photos. I never noticed Ken coming into the
livingroom.
"Here you go," he said as he placed the glass of
lemonade on the table.
I dropped the magazine on the table and picked up the
glass.
"Sorry. I wasn't expecting company," he said as he
reached down and closed the magazine.
I could feel myself becoming embarrassed. I shrugged
and studied my lemonade glass.
"I don't suppose these magazines are anything new
to you," he said as he sat down beside me. "I'll bet
you have some hidden in your bedroom," he smiled
Wow! How did he know that?
He picked up the magazine and opened it to the
photos I had been looking at. "I'll say one thing,
she sure knows how to handle that cock. Have any of
your girlfriends ever done that to you?" he asked,
smiling.
"Yeah, right. I wish," I offered.
"Your kidding. You mean no one has ever touched you
like that?"
I shook my head.
"That's a real shame," Ken said. "I'll bet you think
about it a lot, though."
I nodded. I was too embarrassed to talk about it and
my cock was still hard from seeing those photos. I
was hoping he wouldn't notice the bulge in my jeans.
But he looked down into my lap and asked, "Let me
ask you something. If you had the opportunity to
have your cock stroked like that, would you go for
it?"
What a stupid question, I thought. I imagined how it
would feel to have the hand of the girl in the photo
around my cock. "Of course, I would go for it. Who
wouldn't?"
"Well, I have an idea," Ken offered. "It's sort of
an experiment if you're up for it."
"What kind of experiment?" I asked. I honestly didn't
know what he had in mind, but I was curious as hell.
My mind spun with all sorts of erotic thoughts
related to those photos.
"Just an experiment. The only thing is, I don't want
you telling your friends or anyone about it. This
has to be just between you and me, understand?" he
said in a serious tone.
"I guess so. I mean, I won't say anything to
anybody," I promised.
"Okay. Here's what I want you to do," Ken handed me
the magazine. "Just sit back and look at the photos
in this magazine. It's going to be part of the
experiment. And don't worry about getting a hardon,
I get them, too. If you feel uncomfortable at any
time, just say so and we can stop the experiment,
okay?"
"Okay." I sat back on the couch and started turning
the pages. My cock was still hard and wasn't about
to go down as I looked from photo to photo.
And then his hand rested high on my thigh. I
involuntarily jumped.
"Relax," he whispered.
Easier said than done, I thought. Suddenly, I knew
what this experiment was. I was stunned. I didn't
understand. How could Ken be queer? He had been
married. His fingers moved slowly to the bulge in
my jeans and he began softly tracing the outline of
my hardness. I didn't know what to think or how to
feel. What he was doing with his fingers felt so
good. Man, was I becoming queer for enjoying the
feeling? I was so confused. My cock was slightly
bent in my jeans and it wasn't comfortable.
"How does this feel?" Ken asked.
"Okay." My voice was raspy and I had to clear my
throat. I was no longer looking at the photos, but
watching his hand as his fingers moved over my
hardness. My cock jerked in my jeans at his touch.
"You're really hard. You would probably feel much
more comfortable if your dropped your pants and let
it out," he said as he began opening the top of my
jeans.
He began tugging at the waistline of both my jeans
and shorts. I lifted my hips to help. I felt a rush
of air hit my thighs as he pulled my clothes to my
ankles.
Free of confinment, my cock stood straight up like
a flag pole and I couldn't stop it from jerking.
He slid from the couch and knelt in front of me.
All of a sudden I thought he was going to put my
cock in his mouth. It was the way he was looking at
it.
He reached out and slowly closed his fingers around
me. His hand felt so hot and it felt so good to be
touched by a hand that wasn't mine. The way he slid
his hand up and down my shaft felt so incredibly
exciting and I moaned when his other hand began to
caress my balls.
"You okay?" he asked.
I nodded.
"How does this feel to you?"
"It feels great," I gasped. "But I'm very close to
cumming."
He reached behind him and grabbed several tissues
from the box on the coffee table. "Go ahead, let it
go," he said as he continued to pump my shaft with
fingers of velvet.
It was already on its way. I could feel it gathering
below and starting to rise. Any second now. His hand
sliding up and down my shaft was driving me crazy.
It felt so damn good. I moaned and lifted my hips as
I started cumming. He tried to catch my load in the
tissue, but some shot beyond his hand and hit him on
his shoulder.
I was moaning now, digging my fingers into the
cushions of the couch. My chest was heaving. I was
breathing as though I had been running in a race.
"Oh god," escaped from my lips. Another spurt shot
from the head of my throbbing cock. I loved this
feeling so much. It was so intense.
Slowly, his hand began to stroke softer with less
urgency. His thumb, lubed with my cum, was gently
sliding across the sensitive area beneath the head
of my cock. He gently pumped out of the remaining cum
into the tissue. I felt as though I had been stepped
on by a giant foot. I had never cum so much or so
hard.
"Be right back," he said and he went into the
kitchen. I heard water running and he came back and
covered my still throbbing cock with a warm, wet
towel. He wiped up and down my shaft and cleaned
all around the head.
He stood up in front of me with his hands on his
hips. "Better pull your pants up," he suggested.
"Well, what did you think of the experiment?"
"I never felt had anything like that before."
"I'll bet you could probably go again."
"I don't know."
"I had a feeling you needed something like that after
looking at that magazine. Glad I could help. Lately,
I've wanted to try what we did, but it's so hard to
trust anyone. I know you must feel a little
uncomfortable about this, but don't let it bother
you. What's to worry if it feels good, right?"
I could only nod.
As I stood and pulled my clothes up, he reached
into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He
pulled a five out and handed it to me.
"Here's for the great job you did on my yard." He
pulled out another five. "And this is for the
experiment."
"Just between you and me," I promised again.
"Thanks, Ken," I said as I headed toward the door.
"That's okay. Just let me know when you want to cut
the back yard. There are other experiments, you
know," he said.
"Other experiments?" I queried.
"sure," he smiled.
As I pulled the lawn mower back up to my house, I
felt so confused. I didn't want to be queer and have
people make fun of me and talk behind my back. But I
still longed to be with a girl. How could I be queer?
Although, I had just cum, the exciting feeling was
still inside me. In a way, I wished I hadn't left
when I did.
Ten bucks for one front yard. Not too bad. I was
done cutting grass for the day. Maybe I should walk
up to the local swimming pool and relax and check
out the girls.
But between thinking about tits and bums, I caught
myself thinking about cutting Ken's back yard.
Maybe tomorrow.
THE END
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Welcome to the December edition of the Bisexual Erotica Ezine everyone. This month we have some fine erotica to share with all our subscribers. As usual we have 
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