Not bad for a 34-year-old single guy! I'm Jake and I've worked hard for the past decade after getting my degree in physical therapy. Now I'm the proud owner of a very small three-story victorian townhouse that's nearly six times as old as I am. It doesn't feel like it's completely mine, though, because I'm under contract with the Historical Society to leave it just as it is, inside and out. They own all the furniture anyway. In fact, tours are sometimes given and I have to keep the place in the vintage tradition. I'm thankful tours are restricted to the first two floors.
Little did I know that "vintage tradition" included real people as well--actors. This morning as I was coming downstairs, I saw standing next to the front door a young man--or an older teenage boy. I not only found it odd that this nice-looking young man was in my house but also that he was wearing only a pair of white linen three-quarter-length thin drawstring pants. Nothing more. The boy was shirtless and barefoot.
His name was Kyle and he was 17. Yes, he was one of those actors. His role was house boy. When I said he was nice-looking, that was an understatement. I'm very glad he wasn't wearing a shirt--or shoes for that matter. A body like his should never wear a shirt! It was obvious that he worked out regularly. Although his muscles were firm and toned up, he was not muscular. In fact, he had quite an aesthetic frame. His waist, with its perfect hourglass shape, was as slender as his shoulders were broad. Kyle's honey-olive skin tone was flawless and looked soft and supple to the touch. His innie belly button and concave stomach contrasted nicely with his smooth hairless puffed out boy chest and protruding quarter-sized nipples.
His natural ruby-red lips and bright blue eyes smiled mischievously as he introduced himself and said, "Good morning, Sir." His ruffled sandy blond hair gave him an air of innocence.
"Good morning. And who might you be?" I could get used to this 'sir' business!
"Kyle's my name, sir, and I'm your houseboy ... at least for today."
"Oh? And how did you get in?"
"I'm from the Historical Society. I'm an actor. We have keys to all the historical houses."
My first thought was that there was a tour today. "I wasn't informed of a tour."
"No, there's no tour today. I just came by to introduce myself and see if you needed any help with the place. We'll probably have our first tour sometime next week."
"Okay," was all I could think of to say at the moment. As Kyle turned to walk into the living room, I noticed the marks on his back.
"What happened?" I asked with a tone of urgency.
"What?" Kyle asked as he turned around towards me.
"Your back."
"Oh, that. I was whipped this morning."
"What?!" I asked, now totally shocked. "You're kidding."
"No ... my role is a slave houseboy. I get paid extra for 'real' whippings."
"What do you mean by 'slave' houseboy?"
"Well, back then some really poor people sold themselves or their children into slavery. They could be anybody, from anywhere."
"That's terrible. I had no idea."
"Yeah ... and it was my turn today to take the whipping. Don't worry.
The marks will be gone by tomorrow."
"I just feel bad for you, that's all."
"Oh, it's okay. We take turns. I only have to do it once a month. And like I said, I get double pay for that whole day. I'm not complaining."
"Well ... look ... I'm a physical therapist. You seem like a really nice guy. Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?"
"Thanks. Do you know how to give a massage."
"I learned that my first year in college. Piece-a-cake!. Lie down on the sofa."
Kyle lay down on the cloth sofa with his big blue eyes looking up at me. The boy's left arm hung down to the floor. His right arm and hand were at his side. I drew the drapes for privacy and retrieved some coconut oil from the kitchen cabinet. The marks on his back weren't really that bad. I'm sure the real whippings a century ago were a lot harsher.
As I knelt down beside him, I got my first whiff of his natural body scent. I liked it. In fact ... I liked it very much. So much so that I forgot about the coconut oil as I gently placed the palm of my right had on the small of his back and rubbed my fingers around his very slender waist. As I caressed up his side and around his shoulders, my head lowered, my face now inches from his bare back, I whispered, "You're so beautiful," as I kissed his back. I was totally transfixed!
When I come to my senses, I couldn't believe what had just happened. I've always been rather shy. However, I shouldn't have been surprised since he was so incredibly gorgeous.
Apparently Kyle wasn't surprised either. He rolled over and said, "I guess I really don't need a massage after all." He extended his arms and crossed his wrists out beyond his head. I knew exactly what he wanted.
His pits had just a small hint of hair. Out of the corner of my eye, his thin linen pants were already tenting. His stomach quivered as I ever so gently placed my hand on his bare skin between his belly button and the drawstring waistband of his pants. I caressed all around his smooth chest and stomach and finally lowered my head and kissed his midsection ... and then I kissed his chest, this time leaving my lips on his supple skin and breathing deep his natural body scent. I simply couldn't get enough of that smell! My tongue came out and I began licking and sucking on and around his hard nipples. As I rubbed my hand over his pants, over his huge tented bulge, Kyle stretched his arms out beyond his head as far as he could.
Don't worry. I'm definitely going to continue this story. Let me know what you think so far. Thanks for reading.