Barefoot, Homeless and Gorgeous
The following is a work of fiction. Any similarities between the characters portrayed herein and real persons are pure coincidence. Real places mentioned are also used ficticiously. I mean, whoever heard of the DMV? Really!
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BAREFOOT, HOMELESSS, AND GORGEOUS
by Dick Zucher
The first time I saw Tim I was going into the office, and he was coming out. Honestly, the only thing I could see was his feet. His beautifully tanned, well-tended feet, clad in flip flops. I got a sense that he was tall, well-built and blond, but it was his feet that got my attention.
The Lighthouse was a charitable agency that helped the homeless, offering a place to receive mail, get a sack lunch, and a clothes closet. I had gone in to see if I had any mail (I didn't), and Tim had just signed up for services. It was his second day out of jail, and his probation officer had steered him in the right direction for help.
My name is Steve. I'm 30, about 5'9”, passably built, but not sculpted.
When Miss Sylvia (all the volunteers were addressed as Miss or Mr.) announced that the lunches were ready, Tim came back in to the reception area and I got a good look at him. Yes, I started from the bottom up, admiring those beautiful feet once again, storing the memory for future daydreaming, and raised my gaze gradually, stopping for a moment to appreciate the nice bulge in his jeans. Traveling further north, I met his eyes. Oh, Lordy, those eyes! Have you ever seen Lake Tahoe? Tim's eyes looked as though they were stolen from the bluest part of the center of the lake, and they had a glint of merriment to them that melted me into my sandals. He stood about six feet, and appeared to be in his mid-twenties.
Simply put, Tim was the most gorgeous man I had ever seen. From the top of his blond tousled head, to those captivating eyes, his lightly-muscled torso, and on down to that inviting bulge, and finally to those sexy feet, he was the man I had been dreaming about, even if I hadn't known it.
I accepted my lunch from Miss Sylvia and went to the picnic bench outside to join my step brother, Brent, a straight man seven years my junior. I say “straight,” but he was definitely willing to accept a blow job from his big bro from time to time, although he was seldom of a mind to return the favor.
“Do you know who that blond guy is?” I asked.
“That's Tim,” Brent answered. “Hands off of him. They say he was molested as a child, and he's skittish about gay guys.”
“Fuck,” I answered. “He's gorgeous.”
“And you're a perv,” Brent said.
“Granted, but that doesn't change the fact that he is everything I'm looking for in a man.”
About that time, Tim got his sack lunch and came over to the table where we were sitting.
“Hi, guys, I'm Tim,” he said, extending his hand. “I'm new here.”
I shook it, saying, “I'm Steve. Glad to meet you. This is my brother, Brent.”
Tim shook hands with Brent and said, “Yeah, I've met you. I didn't know you had a brother.”
“Step brother, really, but who's counting?” Brent spoke through a mouthful of sandwich.
Tim opened his lunch sack and pulled out the sandwich and a Styrofoam bowl of Miss Sylvia's famous soup. “Man, this smells good!”
“Yeah, nobody makes soup like Miss Sylvia,” I said.
“Mmm. I believe it.
“I gotta go to the DMV tomorrow to get my ID,” Tim said. That was another service of The Lighthouse. They would take you to get your ID in the organization's van, and pay for it.
“Yeah, I'm going, too.” I said. “I've only been here about a week, myself.”
“Cool,” he said. “There'll be someone I know.”
Brent gave me a meaningful look, which I pretended to ignore.
“Great. I'll see you in the van.”
We ate our lunches, talking about this and that, safe places to hang out, where to get meals from various churches in town, where to sleep at night, things like that.
“That old church down the street, the really old one made out of rocks?” Brent said. “They let us sleep in the courtyard as long as we keep a low profile and don't make a mess. That's where Steve and I sleep. We share a little tent.”
I thought I saw a little gleam in Tim's merry eyes. “Two guys, one tent? Well, you're brothers, after all.”
I answered, “It's no big deal. We go to bed around ten, and we have to have everything put up by the time the secretary gets there at nine in the morning.”
“Do you think I could join you?” Tim asked. “Miss Maggie says she'll get sleeping bag for me after lunch.” Miss Maggie was the Executive Director.
“Well, there's no room in the tent, but maybe in the courtyard,” Brent said, once again shooting me “the look.”
“Cool,” Tim said. “So maybe after I get my bag, you can show me where it is?”
“I'd be glad to,” Brent said. “Stevie, here, has to do some work at the library.”
“I don't . . .” My words were interrupted by a kick in the shins from my brother.
So it was settled. Brent was going to show Tim our courtyard, and I was going to go to the library. What fun!
That evening, we gathered for supper, courtesy of food stamps and my little butane stove. Brent had suggested I make enough for three, just in case Tim hadn't been able to score dinner by himself. No big deal, just add a little more rice to the hamburger meat. Add some tomato sauce and chili powder, and we called it a meal.
Sure enough, Tim showed up hungry.
“Don't let me put you out,” he said. “I'll be all right.”
“Don't worry about it,” Brent said.” “There's plenty. Steve is the master of making a meal stretch. Sometimes I wonder what he could do with five loaves and two fishes.”
“Huh?” Tim looked blank.
“Nothing,” Brent said. “It's a story from the bible.”
“Oh,” was all he said.
Stomachs satisfied, we sat around and chatted about nothing until bedtime.
“We have to be at The Lighthouse at nine o'clock,” Brent said. “How are we going to know when to get up?”
“That's easy,” I said. “The clock in the church tower starts chiming the hour at eight. Believe me, we'll hear it.”
And so we prepared to go to bed. Brent and I set up the tent, which took no time at all, since we'd been doing it every night for the last week or so, and Tim rolled out his sleeping bag nearby. Then it happened: Tim stripped off his T-shirt, and I got another wonderful eyeful. I have told you about his beautiful feet and his gorgeous eyes, and I was very happy to have been allowed to enjoy that part of him, but now this. A perfectly sculpted chest, with lovely pink nipples surrounded by just a tiny bit of dark hair, and a dark treasure trail pointing its way to Paradise, or, if Brent gets his way, to No Man's Land. I knew I would be jacking off for a week to the memory.
Tim saw me looking, and smiled.
“Well, good night,” he said, and crawled into his bag.
Brent and I crawled into the tent and got in our respective sleeping bags.
“Down, boy,” Brent said. “Wanna suck my dick?”
“You know, it,” I said.
Brent pulled his pants down and exposed his six-inch cut cock, already getting hard in anticipation.
I went down on my brother with my usual enthusiasm, but had another vision in my head as I sucked him off. Every downward stroke, I imagined myself sucking on Tim's sexy toes, and on the upstrokes, I pictured myself licking his perfect tits. I had opened my own pants and was jerking myself in almost perfect satisfaction. Brent moaned quietly at my ministrations, occasionally saying my name, and when he shot his wad, I greedily swallowed every drop, then finished myself off, cumming in my hand so I could lick that up, too.
We laid back in our beds, and I got ready to fall asleep.
“I mean it, Steve,” Brent whispered. “You mind your manners around Tim. He can't handle it if you go at him.”
“Moi?” I asked innocently.
“Yes, toi,” he answered, although he had never studied French. “I know your pervy ass too well. We practically grew up together, remember?”
“I'll behave,” I sighed, and we went to sleep.
Morning came, the chimes sounded promptly at eight o'clock, and Tim and I headed for the The Lighthouse a few blocks away. There was a pot of coffee ready for us, and we each poured a cup and sat down to wait for our turn to have the mandatory brief word from Miss Maggie. I sat on the worn leather couch and Tim sat next to me. Although there was plenty of room, I noticed that he sat quite close, ass cheeks touching. I willed my dick not to get hard. For the few minutes we waited, I stole glances at Tim's feet, trying not to picture myself worshiping them.
“Tim Pilcher?” Miss Maggie called from the doorway.
“Coming,” Tim replied. He followed Miss Maggie into her office.
He came back shortly, and it was my turn. Before we knew it, we were piling into the nine-passenger van on the way to the Department of Motor Vehicles.
I secured a seat next to the window and Tim climbed in next to me, again sitting closer than I thought was necessary, but who was I to complain about sitting cheek to cheek with such a hunk? On the trip over, I mostly kept my eyes on Tim's feet, and occasionally felt his knee touch mine. Once again, I fought against my threatening boner.
Once at the DMV we all got in line to be issued a number to be called when it was our turn, and Mr. Thomas, our driver handed each of us a check to pay for our ID cards.
Tim sat next to me in the waiting area, and I swear he was taunting me. He slipped his feet out of his flip flops and rested them on top, exposing his bare feet in all their glory. He wiggled his toes, and he bent his legs so he could press his bare soles together, all the while pressing his knee against mine. I looked up at his face, and saw him looking back at me. He smiled, that wonderful look of merriment in his eyes.
Once finished, we all piled back into the van for our ride back to the The Lighthouse offices. Tim's feet kept tantalizing me, and his knee kept pressing against mine. At one point, he rested his hand on my thigh. Was it by accident? Probably, I thought to myself, because he didn't keep it there long. I swear, if I'd had a magazine or a backpack or something to hold in my lap, I'd have let it go and gotten a full-on erection, but, I needed to be discreet, so I fought it.
Once we'd left the van, the various passengers went their several ways, but Tim stood by me.
“So where can we go?” he asked.
“Well, there's the library, the Civic Center . . .”
“No, that's not what I mean, Brent said. “Where can we go and be alone?”
“Well,” I said. “I don't know.”
“Look,” Tim said, “I know what's going on. Brent warned me that you were perving on me, and I say, so what? You're cute. You're sexy, and I can see you feel the same way about me. So where can we go? You've been staring at my feet since yesterday, and I just love to get my toes sucked. And maybe other parts of me, too.”
“But Brent said you were skitttish about gay guys,” I said.
“Yeah, if I feel like I'm in danger of being outed in front of everybody. But you and Brent are cool, I know. I heard you sucking his dick last night.”
“And we thought we were being so quiet,” I said.
“The moans were soft enough, but that slurping noise is hard to cover up.”
“Smartass,” I answered.
Fortunately, Memorial Park was close by, and there are wooded areas seldom visited this time of year. We walked about half a mile to the park and climbed the hill into the wild area. True, it wasn't the first time I'd been there, and I knew of an area surrounded by thick brambles where we could relax unobserved.
Tim sat down on a fallen log, and I sat on the ground at his feet. He kicked off his flip flops and put his left foot in my lap. I took hold of his foot and stroked it lovingly, sticking my fingers between his toes.
“Nice,” he said. Then I lifted his foot to my mouth and took his big toe into my mouth.
“Oh, yeah,” he sighed. “That's what I've been waiting for.”
I licked his sole from heel to toe, and sucked on his toes some more, then stuck my tongue between each of his toes. He offered me his other foot, and I gave it the same treatment, then put his feet together and took both big toes into my mouth at the same time, sucking on them as if they were a pair of miniature dicks.
“Man! You're making me hard,” he exclaimed.
“I can take care of that, too,” I said.
Tim responded by undoing his jeans and pulling his cock out. Indeed, it was getting hard. It looked to be about seven inches, uncut, and tasty. I licked and sucked at his toes as he stroked himself to full erection.
“Come and get it, baby.”
I didn't need to be told twice. I hiked myself up and gave his cock a lick from the balls to the tip and back again. Then I flicked my tongue around his cock head, skinning the foreskin back and giving his frenulum a good bath. He tasted a little spunky, and quite delicious.
Tim leaned back and stripped his shirt off, giving me a wonderful view that I had only seen in the dim light of the courtyard the night before. I wasn't going to waste this chance. I stretched forward and started licking his left tit, and was rewarded with a moan. I tongued and bit, and sucked that beautiful nipple, then went over and gave the same attention to its brother. Tim grabbed my head and pressed my face into his chest, all the while grinding his pelvis into my torso. The feel of his hard cock rubbing against my belly made my own cock almost painfully hard.
He gently pushed me back a little and pulled his jeans down to his knees. I took his dick into my mouth and plunged down the length until his pubes were tickling my nose.
Tim let out a contented sigh and gently stroked the back of my head as I gave him the best blow job I knew how to give.
“Where's yours?” he asked. “Take your shirt off and drop your pants. I don't see why I should be the only one having fun here.”
I stood up and peeled my T-shirt off and opened the fly on my pants. Tim wasn't waiting. He pushed my hands aside and grabbed the waist of my pants and pushed them down to my knees as my boner sprang up. Now, understand, I'm not well-hung, only about 5 and a half inches, but, if I do say so myself, it's nice-looking. From the look on Tim's face, he agreed, and he immediately took my full length into his mouth.
Oh, what a glorious feeling! After two years of servicing my step brother as I jacked off, it was like the Holy Grail to feel a mouth on my cock, and it was obvious that Tim was enjoying it, too. He sucked and stroked, and played with my balls (which, by the way were much bigger than my smallish cock would have suggested), and I cradled his head in my hands lovingly, allowing him to suck and lick to his heart's content for a while.
“Hey, Tim,” I said. “How 'bout we lie down and 69 a bit?”
“Great idea,” he said. “Let's get naked.”
Disregarding the bed of dried leaves that made up our bed, we stripped and stretched out on the ground and started working on each others cocks. I sucked and licked and fondled, and he did the same. He was bringing me to the brink, then backing off, and I was trying to do the same.
Finally, I pulled off his cock and said, “Hey, Tim, you wanna fuck me?”
“What, here?”
“Where else? In Miss Sylvia's kitchen? Of course here. Here. Let me get it lubed up for you.”
I hawked up as much of a slimy loogie as I could and coated his cock with it, then applied the rest to my asshole.
He pushed me over on to my back and hiked my legs up in the air and positioned his dickhead against my hole.
“Here goes,” he said. “Ready?”
I nodded, and he pressed forward.
I hadn't been fucked in a long time, so I knew it was going to be a hard entrance, but Tim was as gentle as he could be. He pushed, and my sphincter resisted, then relinquished. His head popped past my anal ring, and yes, it did hurt, but at the same time, it felt fantastic.
“Go on,” I said.
He eased forward, and I gritted my teeth against the pain. Finally, he bottomed out, and I felt his cock hit my prostate. What a wonderful reward for working through the pain!
Slowly, gently, Tim began moving his cock in and out of my ass, causing us both a great deal of pleasure. Tim pressed my knees against my chest and bent forward to kiss me. Gently at first, then I felt his tongue knocking on the door of my teeth, so I let him in.
Together, we kissed. We had sword fights with our tongues, and tasted each other to the fullest, kissing in the most passionate way possible and all the while he fucked his pole in and out of my tender ass.
All good things must come to an end, however, and I felt the spunk rising from the depths of my being, a doozy of an orgasm coming, and Tim hollered, “Oh, fuck! I'm coming!”
I felt his cock swell, and he started to fill my bowels with the juices of his passion, just as I shot a huge wad all over myself.
Tim collapsed down on top of me and spread the gooey mess between us. He lay there for a bit, kissing me, more gently this time, until he finally broke it off with a loud “Whew!”
“That was fantastic!” I exclaimed.
“Yeah,” Tim answered, looking into my eyes with those gorgeous blue ones.
“I suppose we should try to clean up now,” I said.
Tim pulled a big handkerchief out of his jeans pocket and we wiped the cum off of ourselves as best we could. Before we started dressing, he pulled me into his arms and kissed me again tenderly, lovingly, passionately. I licked at his tits again before reaching for my pants.
“I guess we have to go back to the real world,” Tim said wistfully.
“Yeah, I guess,” I said. “I wonder what we're going to tell Brent?”