I opened the door. The paper boy was walking down the path. He come up to the door and handed me the paper. Bless him, he was shivering and his fingers were blue. It was a freezing cold winter’s day. I took him inside so he could get warm and I sat him down on the sofa. He was freezing. I rubbed his hands one at a time. He got embarrassed. I rubbed his hands one at a time between my hands.
“Your hands are like ice.”
“It’s all right. I’m used to it.”
I carried on rubbing his hands to get ‘em warm.
He tried to pull his hands away, said he was ok.
“Don’t be daft. I’m looking after you.”
I was doing it coz I really did care. Didn’t want him to catch his death or nothing. He’d been delivering my paper for the last six months and to be honest, I was also getting a bit of a kick doing this. The thing is, I secretly fancied him. He was well fit. Drop dead gorgeous he was. Yeah, so I carried on rubbing his hands, loving the physical contact.
Then I thought: if his hands are cold then his feet must be cold as well. He was only wearing a pair of trainers.
“I bet your feet are the same.”
And before he could say anything I took his trainers off. Again he tried to stop me but I wasn’t letting him.
“And look at your socks. They’re not thick enough.”
He gave me a funny look.
“You sound like my Mum.”
“Yeah, well you need looking after, don’t you?”
“I’m 18.”
“Yeah, well you still need looking after.”
I was the same age as him but he looked younger than me and I felt dead protective, just the way I am.
I pulled his socks off and I rubbed his feet one at a time between my hands. He kept laughing and he was blushing big time.
“You shouldn’t be ticklish your age.”
“I can’t help it.”
He was falling about laughing.
“What you like you?”
His nose was red as well and his ears and as I knelt there on the floor rubbing his feet I couldn’t help thinking of one particular part of his body. I didn’t mean to say it out loud. It just came out.
“How’s your dick?”
Oh shit. He looked shocked.
I let go of his feet and I got up and sat next to him on the sofa.
“Sorry. I…er…oh fuck.”
“How’s my dick?”
“Forget I said it. I just say things and I don’t mean to say ‘em. I think I’ve got Tourettes or something.”
“How’s my fucking dick?”
“Do you want a nice hot cuppa tea? Or coffee?”
He smiled.
“My dick’s all right thanks.”
“Right. I’ll…I’ll go and make that cup of tea then, shall I?”
“But my balls don’t half get tight in this cold weather.”
We looked at each other then we both burst out laughing.
He was well up for talking now.
“Yeah, my balls get well tight in the cold weather. I have to keep putting my hand down my boxers, give my ballbag a tug so my balls come away from my body.”
“Are they tight now?”
“Why don’t you find out for yourself?”
Oh fuck. Now I was blushing.
I wanted to put my hand down his jeans and have a feel but I couldn’t force myself to do it. It was like I came over all shy. This was weird coz I’m not usually shy like this.
He realised I wasn’t gonna put my hand down his jeans.
“I’ll show you.”
He stood up and he dropped his jeans and boxers.
I took a good look at his balls.
“Yeah, they do need pulling out a bit, don’t they?”
There was nothing shrivelled up about his dick though. He was cut and he had a nice big bulbous head.
I couldn’t believe my luck. The paperboy in my flat with his jeans and boxers round his ankles, showing me his cock and balls.
Right, I told myself: stop being stupid and shy and I grabbed his ballbag with my finger and thumb and I pulled on it a couple of times, loosened it up, till his balls were hanging loose. His dick wiggled up and down as I tugged on his ballbag. His dick, it got longer and fatter. His fingers and toes may have been cold but the head of his cock looked far from cold.
But I said it anyway. I wasn’t shy no more, mot that I’d now had a good tug on his ballbag.
“Does that need warming up as well?”
“What?”
“Your dick.”
“Why? Does it look cold?”
“Dunno.”
And then I noticed it was growing. It was getting fatter and now it was pulsing up and getting hard.
“It looks like it’s getting warmer now, mate.”
So was my cock in my jeans.
The paperboy just stood there and his cock got stiff. He just stood there and let it throb up into a full hard-on. Then he took his top off. He took his trainers off and stepped out of his jeans. Pulled his socks off.
The paperboy was naked in my flat, standing there with his hot cock sticking up, jutting out from his hard slender body.
He said, “I’m all hot now.”
“Yeah.