He was a statue, just holding them. A statue with its eyes closed and it’s hot cock in my hand. There was something I wanted to try. Rick felt me d...opping and looked at me wordlessly. He was damned hot: the only boy in school I really wanted to do this to. I looked up at him and gave him my innocent eyes - the ones I used when trying to get money out of Dad. Only I was giving, not receiving. Kneeling on the floor in, the store cupboard seemed much smaller; there was hardly room for me, Rick. You owe me that much." How do I owe you a handjob?" I asked indignantly. John talked quickly. "You know how. All those girls I sent into your room. I got you off God knows how many times and you can't even help me out once. I need it, man. I'll never mention it again, I promise. It'll be like the whole thing never happened."It bothered me that his logic made sense to me. He had helped me got off, however indirectly, on numerous occasions. I never would have thought in a million years that John. More

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