*Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.
This is just a flash story. Not to be taken too seriously.
*****
Murphy Margot walked the nine blocks from Northside High School, to the small home he and his mother and step-father were renting. The eighteen year old felt the springtime pollen attacking his eyes, his sinuses, even his breathing.
Yes, they had pollen in Oldenburg, Arkansas, but they did not have the humidity coupled with it.
He saw an older gentleman, probably in his late forties, early fifties working in his garden. The chubby blonde boy stopped and admired the man's bright flowers, even as his eyes watered and his nose ran.
"Look a little affected, you do," the man smiled.
The man had an odd accent and Murphy smiled, trying to guess where the man might be from.
"Like the flowers, do you?" the man asked and Murphy nodded his head in agreement.
"Well, come on, let me introduce you," the man said.
Murphy walked up and the man pointed out the various flowers and then smiled as Murphy again wiped at his eyes.
"Need you an antihistamine," the man said. "Probably a decongestant too, yeah?"
"Yeah; but took the last one this morning," Murphy remembered.
"Ah, well, got a few; come in," the man said and got to his feet.
When he stood up, Murphy could see that they were both the same height of five feet, nine inches. They also had the same slightly chubby build.
"Oh, and my name's Ethan Mollenkay," the man said, offering a hand. "Come on in; I'll get you a good one. Clear you right up. Only way I could work out here."
"Where are you from?" Murphy blurted out as he followed the man into the small house.
"Tremblink, little burg of Poland," Ethan smiled, not offended by Murphy's direct question. "Moved here ten years ago; trying so hard get rid of the accent. Not working, yeah?"
"Yeah," Murphy agreed, looking around the small room.
It was a small living room, tastefully decorated with comfortable looking furniture.
"Get you glass of fruit punch," Ethan sang out. "My first day in America? Drank some, said 'I don't know what fruit this is but I love it!' and that's all I drink. Don't even like the coffee, just fruit punch."
"That's fine," Murphy called back.
"Good, good, here, just one pill; take two? You'll not be able to sleep tonight," Ethan said, returning with a small glass of red liquid and a pill.
"What is it?" Murphy asked, squinting through his watery eyes to read the pill's markings.
"Mother sends me stuff all the time from Poland," Ethan smiled as Murphy shrugged and popped the pill into his mouth.
He drained the glass and thanked Mr. Mollenkay.
"No, no, we friends, you call me Ethan and I call you Murphy, yeah?" Ethan smiled and gestured toward the couch.
Murphy sat down. The couch seemed fairly new. It did not sag in one direction, did not have a musty mildewed smell to it.
"You are student at that school over there?" Ethan asked, sitting down on the other end of the couch.
"Yes sir, fixing to graduate," Murphy agreed. "So what you do?"
"Me? I do nothing," Ethan smiled widely. "See, in Tremblink? I married Elena Mollenkay, the big movie maker. Terrible movies too. All about girls with big breasts getting killed, so much blood. Finally I say 'I want divorce' and she says okay and I move here. Divorce gives me lots of money so why work?"
Murphy saw a magazine on the coffee table and turned to look at it. His light blonde eyebrows shot up when he read the title.
"Hungry Cock Suckers"
But it wasn't a cute blonde girl getting her face fucked. The cover showed a smiling man with a large cock in his mouth even as sperm dotted his cheek and chin.
"I'll be back; need to piss," Ethan announced and left the room.
Murphy also saw that there was a large rubber cock lying on the coffee table
He heard a toilet flush and Ethan returned a moment later, smiling widely.
"Um, why you have this?" he asked.
"Hmm? The magazine?" Ethan asked, again sitting on the couch. "I like the pictures; such beautiful boys. Sugar cubes, all of them. You know what you do with sugar cubes?"
"Uh, no, I mean, you put them in coffee, I know that," Murphy stammered, looking at the cover of the magazine again.
"You pop sugar cubes in your mouth and just let them melt," Ethan giggled happily.
Murphy looked over at the man.
"And you are sugar cube. I see you walking to school in those jeans and I say oh I would love to eat him up, pop him in my mouth and just let him melt all over me," Ethan admitted.
"Wait, what?" Murphy asked, surprised.
Because he was chubby, he did not see himself as a 'sugar cube' at all. The three girls he'd asked out since arriving at Northside High School had flatly refused. One had been sweet about it, but one had sneered at him and the other had laughed in his face.
"Oh, and now you want to leave, yeah?" Ethan asked, studying Murphy's face.
"I uh, no, but uh," Murphy stammered.
"Or maybe you stay and I show you?" Ethan asked hopefully.
"Show me what?" Murphy asked stupidly.
Ethan leaned over and kissed Murphy on his lips.
"Hey, I uh..." Murphy said, and then Ethan kissed him again.
At first Murphy was too stunned to really respond. Ethan's tongue was entering his mouth; Ethan's right hand was squeezing and rubbing Murphy's chest while Ethan's left hand was squeezing Murphy's pudgy buttocks through the too tight jeans.
He reached up a hand to push Ethan away, but the hand grazed Ethan's chest and Ethan moaned into Murphy's mouth.
Then Ethan's hand reached down and fondled Murphy's erect cock and Murphy almost screamed. He had not realized he had an erection.
"Oh, you are delicious sugar cube," Ethan moaned, rubbing Murphy's plump erection through the denim material.
Murphy felt his left hand being pulled from Ethan's pudgy chest, down to the man's nylon shorts.
