Subject: Risky Ricky: Part 8 / Gay/Adult youth Hello! This story will be the eighth of the series and will be my “season finale”, if you will, until I come back with more. Thanks for all your feedback and please enjoy! This story and its characters are fictional. Remember to fty Send all comments, feedback and ideas to ail. Risky Ricky – Part 8: Drunk Drakos, Horny Drakos “I fold,” says Brother Daniel, throwing his deck of cards down onto the table. “Me too,” replies Father Rendon, following suit. Our mens night card game had come to an end as all of us folded. Leaving just one player left. “Golden deck, boys,” replies Drakos, the town hermit and drunk. He was a scruffy, bearded Romanian who spent his days a recluse and nights a piss-drunk, wandering the streets in nothing but a baggy trench coat. He hated everyone in town and tried to avoid contact with the outside world as much as possible. Every now and then my buddies and I would get him out of the lonely shack for a game night and drinks. Tonight, he won fair and square. The bearded, boney hermit pulls in all our chips, laughing a horse chuckle. “Looks like I got a barrel of ale coming my way chaps.” I roll my eyes, tipsy myself. We all sit – me, the tattooed Ricky, the timid Brother Daniel, disciplined Father Rendon and drunk Drakos – as we let the night wind down around my card table covered in empty bottles. “You have to come out more Drakos,” boasts Daniel, slightly drunk himself. “You’re a natural at cards.” Drakos scoffs. “I appreciate the sentiment Brother but you’ll never see me out past the sun rise in this village. Hate seeing these townspeople, so self-righteous. And the children? Psst. Despise them.” This causes the other three of us to laugh. “You’re telling me,” I respond. “There’s something in the water in this village because the boys are the most troublesome lot I’ve ever met.” Daniel nods, huffing. “I have to agree. They are… um, very manipulative.” Rendon scowls. “Scoundrels, all of them.” He takes a sip, standing to his feet to start heading out. “Every lad in this forsaken village is a mischievous tyrant. You have to watch out for them.” Drakos chuckles, standing to his feet, stumbling. “That’s because you men have let these young snappers get the best of you. Not Ol’ Drakos. I was a lad once too chaps, you have to play their game.” With that the drunken vagrant tips his hat and says goodbye to our group heading on his way through the empty streets of the village. ______________________________ ankara escort Drunk Drakos staggers through the streets, humming an old Romanian folk song. His hat falls from his head, landing in a puddle. He pays no mind as he continues on his merry way. His trenchcoat sways in the foggy night breeze, slightly zipped and tattered. As the narrator I have to say the best thing I enjoyed about having Drakos as a friend was that we both bonded over our fondness for wearing next to nothing. Drakos flounders, falling onto a sidewalk bench in the middle of the square. He continues humming as he slowly unzips his baggy trench coat. He opens the trenchcoat, revealing his naked body to the sleeping village. He caresses himself, slowly getting horned. The humming goes on as Drako begins playing with his growing erection. His cock swells, a thin but lengthy member he is anxious to work on before continuing his trek home. Drakos spits a wet lick of spit onto the head of his dick, fondling his genitals as he grins ear to ear. The greasy man is now going at it relentlessly in the middle of the night, his slender, exposed body glistening under the moonlight. Drakos begins to take off his trenchcoat to begin his grand finale just as the shape of someone appears, walking closer in the foggy night. He covers his tumescent penis just as a boy wanders his way. The boy sports a walking cane and thick black shades. “Child,” barks the drunken vagrant. “Why are you not home?” The boy turns his attention to Drakos. “My mama and I are fighting.” The boy, Hassan, an Albanian 13 year old replies. Hassan was blind and lived in a burrow over the hill with his mother. The boy takes a seat next to Drakos, the man covering himself and his heavy hard-on. “I tried to steal ice cream while I’m grounded and she caught me and I, yelled at her.” Hassan sits closer to the drunk dirty man confiding that he needed some time to clear his head once she went to bed. “I really want some ice cream now though,” Hassan wines. The sleazy Drakos smiles a pervy smile telling him he has ice cream. Hassan smiles, the small blind boy lighting up. “Really? Where is it? What flavor?” “Vanilla,” taunts the old man, now yanking again on his pecker underneath the trench coat. “But the thing is, you have to work for it.” Drakos then stands before the little teen. “Do you think you can work for your ice cream mate?” Hassan smiles, agreeing, just as Drakos drops the trench coat to the ground in ankara genç escort the middle of the street, revealing his bare-assed body and granite-like shaft to the unaware boy. “Well, I’ll show you how, it’s really easy.” A fully naked Drakos sets back down, takes Hassan’s hand, and puts it on top of his twitching dick. “Watch this, if you work this… er, special lever, you will get your ice cream.” The feeling of tiny, cold fingers pressing against his hardon made him precum a little more. ‘Ohhh.. yeah, you have to pull on it nice and slow for daddy.” “Really?” Hassan is already clutching Drako’s leaking faucet. “And all the ice cream I want?” The boy is unable to see Drako’s pervy grin as he looks down at his luck. A dumb little boy giving him a handjob right in view of anyone who could be passing by. “All the ice cream you want,” responds the wicked hermit. Hassan then begins letting Drakos guide his teensy fingers over his cock, moaning softly to himself in front of the oblivious boy. “Why is the lever so wet?” Pearls of precum trickle down Drako’s head onto Hassan’s hand, giving him lubrication. Drakos responds that it’s oil for the machine, chuckling to himself as his stomach starts to boil. “You’re doing great, kid,” quivers the old, naked pervert. “The ice cream is almost ready, you’re about to make so much.” Hassan speeds up on his rubbing of the man’s stone hard, purpled cock. This only makes Drakos begin to seize, his eyes rolling back. “Y–y-you’re almost…there…buddy,” the man is weeping, sweating, a mess of drunk emotions as the little Albanian violently pulls on his boner, desperate for his prize. “Don’t stop buddy, don’t stop. You’re gonna get so much cream. So, so much.” Drakos is now a slave to the boy’s rhythmic handjob. Once a master con man wanting to use a little boy, now a pawn in his own pervy plan. The man is hysterical, naked, exposed in the middle of the street, on the verge of a heavy climax. “Please keep going for me please.” “Is the ice cream almost here?” asks Hassan, his little tongue out, ready for a tasty meal. “It is mate, just keep going. Work the lever, work it baby.” And a hardy meal Drakos was going to give the little twink. “My hand is starting to hurt.” “Don’t stop! Don’t you fucking stop, keep going.” “My hand-” Drakos forces his hand over the little boys, now moving it up and down with him. “You stop when I say stop, you want your ice cream don’t you baby? I’m gonna antalya escort make so much ice cream for you, don’t you want all of it?” Hassan brightens up at this. “It’s ready?” “Y-y-yeah, yeah baby, you’re worked hard for it. You’re about to get it all now. Just open your mouth, put your tongue on the lever.” Hassan does so, sticking his small tongue out on the man’s hardened, leaking head, hungry to lick down an entire meal. “Like this?” “That’s it baby. just like that, you earned it. Here it comes. Here it comes. Eat up baby, eat up, OHHHHHHHH” And with that, the sleazy naked man lets off a turbojet of ejaculate right in the face of the blind little boy. “Wait, I need a cup.” “MPHHHMMMMM…. I-I- I Can’t stop now baby, here it is, take the cream, take all my cream.” Hassan braces himself as a tidal wave of cum covers his tongue and mouth. He gargles, swallows, almost inhaling the first cumshot. “It’s so sweet,” he musters as he drinks down the white, thick spunk. Drakos jolts, shaking forcefully on the bench. He licks his horny lips as blast after blast of semen flies out of his cock into Hassan’s mouth, the boy blissfully unaware the sweet treat he’s slurping down isn’t ice cream. The old man grins deviously down at Hassan, watching his remaining cumshots ooze out into the jizz covered mouth of the blind teen. The boy licks up each rope as it extrudes from the head of his veiny cock, his tongue nuzzling the man’s pulsating pecker for every last rope of hot jizz, still thinking it’s soft serve. Hassan finally feels full as he takes his last few licks of spewing goo from the man’s still erect penis. Hassan has no idea his face and hair are dripping in ropes of hanging cum strings. He stands up, thanking the stranger for his kind deed. “A bedtime snack was all I needed,” he says smiling, impervious to the glazed glob dangling from his lips. The old man sits, still grappling from his orgasm, naked and wet in the public square. Hassan grabs his cane and heads home, cum covered into the fog. Drakos stands to his feet, puddles of ejaculate fall from his body as he puts on his trenchcoat. The old hermit heads home, his coat open, dick point straight up still. The drunk smiles, taking in the dormant hamlet he calls home. He knows the people here can be pompous, put on airs, what not. But it’s the little things that made his home worth it. And I have to say as myself, Risky Ricky, that I too love this little village. This little town has its perks, the pizzeria, the Riviera, the movie trips, the local schools, all great things that Gymnos has to offer. But, if you’ve learned one thing from my stories, that is that there is nothing that compares to covering a naive lad in spunk. It’s a day’s work here, and until next time, I’m Risky Ricky.