The Pleaser Ch. 01

The Pleaser:

Hi, this is part 1 of a series following Axel. It's going to be all over the map as far as different categories. This installment includes some ogling of older women, masturbation, and an encounter between two men. I'm not categorizing this as a gay story (although I will tag it) because it's not going to be the focus of this series. Axel's story is going to be more diverse and free-ranging, touching on many of the categories on Lit that interest me. I hope you enjoy. (Everyone is 18+ at the time of the events)

Note for those that follow my other series' I do intend to keep writing, I've just been a bit blocked for a while. If you've got ideas on where to go next, feel free to PM me. For now, I'll be focusing on this storyline.

"Honey! Last call or you're going out hungry!" My Mom's voice echoed in the stairway. It was the first day of the rest of my life. I'd graduated on Saturday from high school, and although the rest of my life really started in the fall when I went to college in my mind, today would be a pretty momentous day itself...

I hustled down the stairs, swishing mouthwash on the way down as I ran into the kitchen. I spat in the sink, drawing a grimace of disgust from Mom, and laughing, gave her a kiss.

I'd always kissed Mom on the mouth, just a peck, nothing weird, but it was kind of our thing ever since we were little. As I got older, I got a bit worried about things like stinky breath, hence the mouthwash.

"Breakfast is on the table; you have 5 minutes before Pastor Dan gets here." Mom said, smiling down at me.

She was a tall woman, almost 6 feet. People always joked that I must have been switched at birth, as I was barely 5'7". I'd always been smaller than average, slim to her more statuesque build, but Mom said I was hers, and that I looked just like my Grandpa, who I'd never met. I'd also never met my father, but Mom assured me I was nothing like him... which was good from everything I'd been allowed to hear.

I parked at the table and wolfed down the oatmeal she'd set out for me. She'd cut up my favorite (mangoes) and put them in with a big dollop of honey. Mom always went out of the way to cook me food that would "fatten me up" and it always tasted amazing.

Not that I had time to savor it this morning. Today I was starting a new summer gig for our church, delivering meals to the elderly. Mom and Pastor Dan had suggested I do it all summer. They said it would 'broaden my horizons' to get out and meet the elderly. Not to mention, it got me out of the house all day, which I knew was an ulterior motive for both.

They'd been sneaking around for a while now... but I had figured it out quickly, after catching him sneaking out in the middle of the night one evening. He never saw me sneaking into the house from my own late-night escapades (nothing too exciting, just the usual sneaking out past curfew). I didn't mind, though, Mom was lonely, and she needed some fun in her life. And even though Dan was married, I wasn't one to judge... whatever made my mom happy.

Anyway, I was sure Mom and Dan would use my absence to go at it like teenagers during the day, and more power to them.

Speak of the devil... the horn honked outside the house. My Chariot had arrived.

"Love you!" I said, rushing to my feet and scrambling to the door. I guess this is the part where I mention I'm a pathological pleaser. I hate to inconvenience, disappoint, or otherwise prioritize myself over anyone. It was a problem, I knew it wasn't healthy, but I liked making people happy. And I wasn't going to make Pastor Dan sit and wait for me.

"Love you too! Have fun!" Mom shouted at my back.

Pastor Dan sat in the driver's seat of an old blue minivan. I slid in next to him and buckled up.

"Morning Axel!" (yeah, my mom is a 'sweet'-child of the 80's...) Chirped Dan.

"Morning sir!" I smiled back.

"We're driving back to my place, to drop me off, then I'll hand the van over to you. It's all loaded up, and here's your route!" He handed me a clipboard with a list of names and addresses. "You think you're up to it?"

"Yes Sir! I won't disappoint you." I answered.

"I know you won't, son." Dave answered, focusing on the road as he pulled away.

Dave lived about 3 miles away in another neighborhood. We pulled into his driveway. His wife, Bonnie (Mrs. Bonnie to me) was in the front garden, weeding the flowerbeds. I could see her rather prodigious bottom swaying between the bushes in black yoga pants.

I'd always liked looking at Mrs. Bonnie's butt... to quote one of Mom's other playlist favorites, "I like big butts and I cannot lie!" Today was no exception. And it was especially nice today as there was a small line of sweat running through the cheeks... I felt a churning in my stomach and pants as she popped up from the bushes. "Oh, hi Axel!" she waved and got up, making her way to the car to say hello.

I was in a bit of a conundrum... I needed to get up to switch sides, and Mrs. Bonnie was clearly angling for a hello hug... but there was a situation blossoming in my loose-fitting basketball shorts that would be hard to hide, especially if she pulled me in tight, like she usually did (and I usually did not mind).

'Oh well..." I resigned myself to embarrassment and stepped out of the car.

Sure enough, there she was, right at the door. Mrs. Bonnie was a little taller than me at 5'7" ish, and in addition to her generous rear assets, she was pretty well endowed up front as well. She was a mother of four, and her body showed it with a bulge and a little roll at her belly. She was wearing the aforementioned black yoga pants and a pink ribbed tank top. Her arms, which wrapped around me, were soft and a little wobbly, and glistening with a sheen of moisture. She had a pretty, cherubic, face which I saw briefly before she pulled me into that large bosom. She smelled like grass and baby powder, and it was actually pretty nice. I hugged her back and felt the tip of my erect penis brush against her "fupa" before I could angle my hips away.

She finally let me go and smiled at me. "Well, it seems you're excited about your new job!" she said with a wink. Then strolled over to her husband, who was standing at the front of the van, serendipitously (or maybe purposefully?) blocking any view for Pastor Dave to see my shameful hardon tenting in my black gym shorts. She gave him a peck on the cheek, and I took the opportunity to bolt around the back of the van and slide into the driver's seat.

Dave barely acknowledged his wife, just a little half-smile, before turning back to me. "Ok Axel, looks like you're anxious to get going!" The van's yours for the rest of the summer. After today, you'll pick up at the church every morning, ok?"

"Yes sir... umm, I guess I better get to work!" I said.

"Bye sweetheart!" Mrs. Bonnie said, giving a wave, which caused a rather pleasing jiggle across her chest. "Don't be a stranger!"

"Bye!" I waved back, my hardon was throbbing in my lap now, begging for my attention, but I put it out of my mind and backed out of the driveway.

I drove for a bit, before pulling into an empty parking lot to go over my list of deliveries. As I pulled into a spot in the middle of the lot, I couldn't help but put my focus back on my still full erection. I was an 18-year-old ball of hormones, and I couldn't stop thinking about Mrs. Bonnie, how she smelled, how she felt, and most of all how she looked. My hand drifted into my lap, and I was immediately fondling myself.

I looked around the lot, and it was truly empty. There were cars passing on the street ahead of me, but I realized nobody would be able to see what was going on in my lap. 'Could I really do this here in the van?'

As my hand began more urgently fondling my throbbing dong, I became more and more aroused with the idea of jerking off in this public parking lot. I let my hand slip inside the waistband of my shorts, and boxers to my bare cock. 'Yes... this is going to happen...' I thought to myself as I started to gently stroke myself, eyes darting around to ensure nobody else was watching.

As I stroked, I thought about Mrs. Bonnie. In my mind's eye, she was inviting me inside for a 'lemonade' with a gleam in her eye. In my fantasy she poured me a glass and stood close to me as I drank it. "Still thirsty?" she would ask as I finished the glass. "Maybe you want to try some milk?" I imagined her sliding the straps of her tank top down, revealing her breasts to me. "Go ahead... I'm sure if you suck hard enough you can...."

Whoa! That was it... I felt the eruption coming and had to scramble to get my cock out of my shorts before I shot several ropes of semen out in front of me, getting my semen all over the steering column. I could see it dripping from the blue plastic onto the floor at my feet...

Quickly, my eyes darted around. Had anyone seen? There was nobody obviously staring at me... and a rush went through my chest as I realized I'd gotten away with it. I reached to the back, where there was a stack of napkins and grabbed a wad, which I used to clean up my hands, my lap, and the car.

With that taken care of, I quickly programmed the route of addresses into my phone and got to work.

*****

The first few deliveries of the morning went uneventfully. I met some nice older folks, who seemed grateful for their meals. A couple asked me if I'd do some small favors for them (move some furniture, help them get up or move around the house, little things like that), and of course I obliged.

At about 11 I pulled into the driveway of a run-down old house. The paint was white but shabby, the yard was a little overgrown, there were heavy, drawn drapes in the windows. I wondered momentarily if anybody was even home, but I saw a flicker of movement in the curtain, so I knew someone had just noticed me.

"Albert Jansen" I read the name from my list. "Single meal."

I hopped out, grabbed the covered tray from the back of the van, and made my way to the front door.

"Let yourself in!" I heard from behind the door. I did as instructed and opened the front door.

The house was dimly lit and smelled 'oily' like old leather or bicycle chains. A man wearing a cast on his right leg sat on an old recliner, facing a small TV which was mounted on the wall next to the doorway.

"You the new kid?" he asked. "Dave told me a new kid was taking over this week. S'pose that's you?"

"Yes sir," I nodded. "My name's Axel, I will be taking over for the summer. Is there somewhere I can set down your food?"

He nodded toward the table next to him. "Here's fine."

I sat down the plate of food. "Here you go. Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?"

He gave me a funny look for a minute. Then chuckled, "Mmm... probably not what you were thinking when you asked. But can you run a lawn mower?"

I thought of the overgrown yard outside, mildly panicking, "Ummm... yes... but I still have more meals to deliver... I am not sure I can spend that much time right now. I'm so sorry."

"Hmm... good point." He grunted. "Well, when you done? I'll give you 20 bucks."

"Oh..." I'd trapped myself good, I thought, "Well... I guess I could come over after. I've got 2 more stops to make, so maybe a half hour? But I couldn't take any money..."

"Nonsense... I'm going to work you hard boy... you're going to earn it." He said. "See you at noon."

"Uh... ok, yes sir, see you then!" I replied, before scrambling out of the house. Something about that old man made me really nervous.

I finished up my last couple deliveries uneventfully before making my way back to Mr. Jansen's. The old man had made his way out to the driveway and was sitting in an old camp-chair. The garage door was open, and I could see an old push-mower and a weed-whacker inside. There was a car under a tarp in there as well as a large toolbox and a variety of other tools.

"I'm just gonna supervise." He smiled at me, a kind of funny grin on his face. "Make sure you do it right."

"Uhh... yes sir. I'll just get started." I smiled at him.

The mower started up easily. I could tell it was well-maintained. It wasn't a self-propelled, like I was used to, and it was set a little tall, so I struggled at first before Mr. Jansen called me over.

"Hey kid, get over here... you're not gonna get anything done like that."

I dutifully made my way over to him. "Sorry... I guess I'm a little short for it." I said, puffing a bit from exertion.

"Yeah, you're a little guy... but we can get that adjusted, go in the garage, and get a quarter inch wrench and a Phillips head screwdriver. They should be in the box. You know what those are, right?"

"Umm... yeah I think so." I nodded and went to dig in the toolbox. After a minute I found what he was asking for and came back.

"Ok... now bring it over closer to me so I can see." I shimmied the mower around and backed it towards him.

He rested his hand on my lower back, right on the waistline of my shorts and leaned in close, "Let's see here...."

I jumped and pulled away, surprised at his unexpected touch.

"You're a jumpy one." He said, eyeing me. "Get in there, my old hands are too shaky these days to do this."

"Oh, I'm so sorry... I was just... surprised. Please don't be offended." I apologized.

"Hmm... it's ok kid. Just come over here, and hand me that screwdriver."

I did as instructed, and he showed me how to turn the nut holding the handle adjustment while he used the screwdriver to keep the other end from turning. Soon, his hand was on my lower back again, but this time I was determined not to flinch. After a few minutes we got the handle adjusted to an angle that fit me better. He patted me on the butt, drawing another small flinch out of me.

"There... better." Now you should be able to handle that machine a bit easier. "Now... last thing, go ahead and take that shirt off, you won't want to get it all sweaty and grassy." I'll hold it right here for you.

He had a little gleam in his eye. I was pretty sure this old man was creeping on me. But after a second I complied. After all, it was a good idea, I didn't want to get my shirt dirty. And if it gave this old creep a little thrill... well more power to him.

He looked at me. "Sheesh you're a skinny one, and smooth. Your balls even dropped yet boy?" He cackled. "Get to work, I 'aint paying you to stand around."

I turned red to my ears but complied. After all, I had work to do.

I spent the next hour mowing the lawn. Mr. Jansen had very specific instructions on how he wanted things done, and he kept calling me over to point out how I should tackle the area around a tree or move some piece of something out of the yard, or how to use the weed-whacker to get a clean edge.

Finally, I was done. I was covered in sweat and weed pieces. I began to put everything away in the garage, as I was finishing up, I couldn't help myself and peeked under the tarp-covered vehicle. "What kind of car is this Mr. Jansen?" I asked, looking back.

"That's not a car, kid, it's a '77 Bronco." He corrected. "Was fixing it up before I busted my leg. Now I suppose it'll never get done." He paused for a second, then smiled at me. "Go ahead, pull the cover off, take a look."

I did, and, for the first time in my life, I fell in love with something. There was something incredibly cool about the behemoth SUV. The tires were nearly half as tall as me and rugged. The paint job was red with white trim on the side panels. There were a few parts taken off in the interior, and the convertible top was removed so the interior was wide open. The inside was half-finished, but I could see that the seats that were installed were a soft kid-leather and there was a high-end Alpine stereo half-installed. I loved it, and just stared until I heard a voice behind me. "Keep it in your pants kid... she doesn't even run..."

I turned back. "Oh... sorry, it's just cool. I haven't seen one like that before."

"Yeah, she's a classic. My wife and I bought that just after we got married." He smiled, "Lotta good memories tied up in the old girl."

I didn't know what to say, so I just nodded. "I'd sure love to have a car this cool someday. You're lucky."

He looked at me for a minute then, "Hmm... sure kid. Now put the cover back on and close up the garage. Then I'm gonna need you to help me inside."

Back to business, I nodded, disappointed to be putting a cover on that beautiful vehicle. I did as told, though, and when the garage was closed up I came back to Mr. Jansen's side.

"Ok, boy. Now Give me a hand." I helped him stand, pulling his arm over my shoulder. I could feel his heavy breathing over my head. "Just get me inside and back on my chair."

I maneuvered him up the stairs. I couldn't help but notice he smelled like the truck did. Leathery, and like engine grease. My arm was around his waist and he leaned into me, hand across my bare back. He wasn't heavy, maybe 150 pounds, but he was tall, a few inches above six feet. So it was a bit awkward with him using me almost like a crutch, but we made it, and he settled onto his recliner.

"Now, I didn't want to tell you before kid, but you smell like shit." He gruffed, "I'm not sending you home to your mother smelling like sweaty cum."

I was shocked, and turned a bright red. "What? I don't... do I? Oh I am so sorry."

"Heh, it's ok kid... I'm guessing you tossed one off this morning? Didn't quite miss the edge of your shirt." He held up my blue "Evangelical Lutheran - Staff" t-shirt, a stiff spot clearly visible near the bottom hem. "Missed a spot." He smirked.

I was beet red from ears to toes. "I...."

"Enough... look kid, just go toss it into the wash... throw your shorts and whatever you got under them in too and run the machine. Use the light cycle, no sense wasting water. You know how to run a washer right kid."

"Yes sir." I hesitated, "Umm... what do I wear to the bathroom if my clothes are in the machine?"

"You need to wear something in the shower?" He looked at me. "Look we're all grown men here... nothing I haven't seen before, now get moving."

As always, I did what I was told. There was a closet door off of the living room, where a stacked washer-dryer combo were located. I undressed looking back at Mr. Jansen nervously. He was watching me, but not saying anything, just gesturing with a "get on with it" hand movement.

I turned my back and took off my shorts, then my boxers and dropped them and my shirt in the washer. With my back angled to Mr. Jansen, I threw in some soap and set it to the light cycle. Then, without turning to face him I darted to the bathroom and closed the door. I was pretty sure I heard him chuckling as I did.

I spent a long time in the shower. For one, it felt good. For another, I was anxious about going back out. I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do while the laundry was going. Finally, I was forcibly pulled from my procrastination by a thud on the door and a shout. "Hurry up Kid. I gotta piss, and that water 'aint free!"

I scrambled out of the shower and quickly toweled myself off. I wrapped the towel around me and burst out of the bathroom. "So sorry Mr. Jansen. It's all yours."

He sat in his recliner, looking at me. "Well... Are you going to help me get in there?"

I was pretty sure he could do it himself... I mean who helped him when I wasn't there? But I wasn't going to say no, so I cinched the towel tight around my waist and moved to help. We maneuvered to the bathroom door, and I started to disengage but he stopped me. "No... it'll be easier if you help. Just let me lean on you. Now help me over by the toilet."

I did as I was told. Moving toward the toilet. The toilet was against the wall, a window next to it looked out onto the driveway. I was between Mr. Jansen and the wall. He had one arm over my shoulder, and with the other he fumbled at the belt of his jeans. Finally, he got the belt unbuckled and his pants undone. The jeans dropped to the floor, seconds later he shimmied his hips while pulling the waistband of his boxers and they followed.

I couldn't help it... I'd never seen another man in real life before, I found myself looking. I always avoided the public showers at school, and aside from some late-night porn, I'd never seen a dick that wasn't my own. And boy was Mr. Jensen's different than mine.

I wasn't small, at least I didn't think so, I had a couple of inches while I was limp and grew to cover the length of my fist and then about an inch more after I got hard. But it was the girth that shocked me. Mr. Jansen's penis was thicker as it hung limply down in front of him than mine was erect. It was long too, maybe 4 inches hanging heavily from a tangled bush of grey and white pubes. It was veiny, and the skin was stretched and loose, not like mine, which was smooth and tight. His balls, hanging below were different as well. Wrinkled and wispy with white pubic hair, they hung as well, as if a great weight were pulling them and his mushroom head toward the floor.

He began to pee, and I watched the stream dribble slowly from his big tan head. It was slow, and he grunted, as if making an effort, but the stream eventually picked up, and after at least 15 seconds, he was finished. I realized I had been staring the whole time, and quickly looked away, my eyes darting to the window and the driveway outside.

He stood there for a minute, and let out a deep sigh, as if completing a difficult task. Then, "Help me back to my bedroom. I think I'll have a lie-down."

I looked at him, "Oh... ok, sure." I mumbled. His eyes seemed to go right into me, a curious look on his face.

"Come on." He said. "I'm an old, tired man."

I helped him out of the bathroom and guided him through the other door on the main floor which was his bedroom. Inside, was a dark room, blinds drawn, and a mussed king-sized bed. He had me pull back the covers and he sat on the bed.

"Go ahead and put your clothes in the dryer and then come back in here" he instructed. His hand began to fondle the organ in his lap absentmindedly.

"Ok." I said, then moved to the door.

"Yes sir." He said, and I turned back to look at him, confused. "The proper response for a young man like you to his seniors is 'Yes sir.'" He eyed me, an eyebrow raised.

"Oh..." I fumbled. "Yes sir. I will do what you said and be right back."

I stumbled back into the main room, my heart beating quickly. Something about the dynamic had shifted. There was a hunger in Mr. Jansen's eyes when I had responded as instructed, and I swear I'd seen his large cock twitch and swell as he fondled it.

My hands shook as I moved my clothing into the dryer and started the machine. My heart was in my throat as I turned and walked back toward the open door. "Put your towel in the dryer too." He instructed. "No sense leaving a wet towel lying around my house when you leave."

I froze for a moment, and then put the towel in the dryer and restarted the machine. I stood naked at the dryer, dreading the next moment, where I would turn and walk into the bedroom, but knowing at the same time that I would do it, and that I would do whatever I was told when I went in there. Finally, after an eternal moment I steeled myself and turned, and walked into the bedroom.

"Close the door behind you." He instructed, and I did.

"Come over here and let me have a look at you." I did that as well, my trembling hands covering my privates as I stood maybe a foot away.

"Closer." He said gently, huskily.

I inched toward him, his hands gently took mine and placed them on my side. "You're pretty for a boy." He said quietly. "Smooth." He put his hands on my hips and stroked gently up and down my flanks. They were rough, but strong. It tickled a little and I shivered. He wrapped his hands behind my hamstrings and pulled me closer, leaning his face against my upper abdomen.

I stood there for a long moment as his hands slid up and cupped my buttocks. He kneaded and squeezed them while breathing heavily into my upper abs.

"I'm not queer." He said, quietly, almost to himself. "It's just... I have needs you understand. And you don't feel like any man I've ever imagined."

"Yes sir." I breathed. "I understand."

He grunted and he turned me around, fondling my ass for a moment before spreading my cheeks.

I tensed when I felt his hot breath on my suddenly exposed asshole. Moments later I felt the rough sand-papery skin of his cheeks against my soft ass-cheeks. He groaned as he ran his face across my backside.

Now, I'd never had a gay thought in my life either. Not that I had any prejudice, but until this moment I'd been strictly interested in women. Usually older ones like Mrs. Bonnie, or some of my teachers. But when Mr. Jansen's tongue started to flick around the circle of my asshole, I felt a shock of pleasure and let out a gasp. Soon, he was licking with abandon, and I began to groan.

"You like the way I lick your little asshole?" He grunted, before driving his tongue in between my cheeks. "It's sweeter than any pussy I've ever tasted." His hand slid between my legs and wrapped around my cock and balls with a firm, but gentle squeeze. I felt myself begin to harden as he fondled my balls and cock. "You like it when I play with your little dick, boy?"

"Yes sir." I groaned, and I wasn't lying, it did feel good. His rough, callused hands on my smooth shaft were like nothing I'd ever felt, the sensation was almost too much to handle.

Roughly, he pulled me onto the bed. "Lie on your back boy." He shoved me to the middle of the bed, where I did as I was told. My cock sticking straight out like a flagpole. "You're hard as fuck for me!" he marveled, as he rolled to his back, pulling his legs onto the bed.

I could see his cock again, it was definitely thicker than before, and the head was swollen and darkening. I could practically see the blood pumping in the veins on his shaft. "I want you to get me just as hard as you are."

I hesitated, and then rolled onto my side, and began to fondle his cock. It was soft, and spongy. Nowhere near hard yet, but it was already too big for me to wrap my hand around. He let out a groan and closed his eyes. "Oh Jesus boy, it's been a long time! Now Stroke it, get me rock hard!" His arm reached behind me and pulled me close into him. My hand slid along his shaft, first squeezing, and then gently tugging.

I was, quite surprisingly, enjoying myself. Something unlocked in me in that moment. I had always been a pleaser, but I realized in that moment that not only did making others happy make me happy, but it turned me on. I wasn't attracted to Mr. Jansen, not like I was to Mrs. Bonnie, but in this moment, his cock, growing steadily harder in my hand was driving me crazy. I wanted to do whatever it took to please this man, every shiver and twitch I drew out of him drove my excitement level through the roof.

And boy was he responding. His cock grew steadily bigger and bigger, until I thought his purple head was going to burst there was so much blood rushing into it. I could feel the beat of his heart against my face, which was nestled against his hairy chest. As his cock grew hard, I switched from tugging and squeezing to stroking.

After another few moments he commanded, "Put it in your mouth boy! I'm going to come and don't you lose a drop of it."

With that, he pushed my head down from his chest and into his lap. I recoiled for a moment at another line I wasn't sure if I should cross, before the firm pressure of his hand against the back of my head overcame my hesitation and I dove open-mouthed onto his cock.

It was big, and my lips were stretched tightly, but before I could even register how big he felt in my mouth, he erupted. He fired into my mouth, it was hot, and thick, and salty with a strange aftertaste. I gagged, both on his huge cock in the back of my throat as well as the salty load that was quickly filling the minimal free space that wasn't filled by warm flesh. I gulped, and swallowed down the load, as another shot into my mouth, and then again, and again. I thought I might drown when finally, he subsided, and pushed me away.

We both lay there, panting, in silence, he on his back, and I curled into a ball at his side, head inches from his rapidly deflating cock, until the buzzer from the dryer went off, breaking the reverie.

"Well I suppose you should go." He said.

Wordlessly, I got up from the bed. My knees were a bit wobbly as I rose, and began to leave. "Hey!" he said.

I turned. "Yes sir?" I questioned.

He nodded with his head toward one of the dressers in the room. "Top drawer. Open it up, and take a pair. I want you to wear those when you come over tomorrow. They were my wife's."

I opened the drawer, it was full of women's underwear. I picked out a pair, a black-lacy thong. "This one?"

"That'll do boy." He smiled. "And plan to stick around, maybe I can show you how to wrench on the Bronco."

I nodded, suddenly excited. "Yes sir!"