Jack & Jill - Chapter 07

Copyrighted 2014 © Rob Loveboy
Edited by Jack FitzHugh

  
Chapter 7

“Jacky let’s go shopping’ for decent clothes to wear to the next rave. Notice everyone else was wearing designer shit? We kinda stood out, don’t ya think?” he mused.

Frankly, it had not occurred to me. I was never a materialistic, peer-pressured sort of guy. My Grandma had limited income and I simply respected that, happily settling on Wall-Mart purchased attire and everyone else could go fuck themselves if they didn’t like what I wore!

He instructed me to empty my backpack, as he did his. This request made it very clear as to what kind of shopping excursion we were bound for, knowing that we had no money.

Nevertheless, off we went to the shopping mall, him dressed in a pair of my black spandex bike shorts, a little too small fitting and wearing no underwear, his manhood displayed very prominent indeed, his response when I mentioned it was, “It pays to advertise, Jacky!” He also selected my old, slightly torn Rolling Stones T-shirt that came down to only his mid drift. No socks, feet planted in his old, tattered high top runners with two different colored laces, off we went.

We sat at the upper level Food Court eating a plate of shared French Fries that our combined smitten contribution allowed for. His gaze seldom wandered from the washroom area just ahead of our table. He seemed to be intently focused on the comings and goings of men, following their exit from the washroom to wherever they were next headed.

I followed him in silence, never questioning his earlier statement that we had to get some money and as to exactly we were supposed to acquire it. We then took a seat on the lower Mall level facing a long, dingy hallway. A large sign above the entry indicated washrooms ahead.

About ten minutes later a man in his fifties with white cropped hair, whom I noticed twice at the Food Court washroom, made his way down the hall and into the men’s room. Jill was on his feet and me on his tail.

“Follow my lead, Jacky. Don’t say anything and take a place at the urinal beside me,” he ordered.

The rest room was dingy and vacant except for the man standing at a urinal. Four toilet cubicle doors stood ajar. Jill assumed a position directly to the man’s right and I stood beside Jill. He pulled down his shorts below his buttocks and began to play with his cock and balls, all the while focused on the man’s own genitalia openly displayed and growing by the second!

I watched in shock as Jill reached over, took hold of the man’s swollen member, and fondled it with a huge grin. The man reached over and did the same to Jill, his face flushed red in obvious lust of Jill’s boyhood. They stroked each other for just a few moments when Jill broke the silence.

“Forty for a hand job, eighty for a blow, sir!” he said as if giving him the time of day as he stroked the man’s cock vigorously as if to show that his offer was legitimate “Or if ya wanna blow me, its fifty!”

I looked on astonished! What the fuck was he doing? With a rabid look upon his face the man quickly pulled his hand away from Jill’s still flaccid cock.

“Fucking boy hustler, I should have known! Sorry kid, I don’t pay for it. Go back down town to the boy stroll where ya belong,” he said with disdain as he refastened his pants and turned to walk out.

Jill was quick as a fox; he positioned himself at the door preventing the man’s exit! “How bout we cut a deal, thirty bucks for letting ya touch me and the little hand job I gave ya?”

“Fuck off kiddo, get out of my way!” he yelled and made a move to push Jill aside.

Jill then ripped his already torn T-shirt full up the front, exposing his chest, kicked off one runner then pulled his shorts down, looped around his one shod foot.

“Go ahead … leave! I’ll be right behind ya yelling rape, ya fuckin’ pervert! I got your precum on my fingers, see!” he retorted and paused to show the man that indeed his fingers were wet with semen then rubbed them to his cheeks and lips before continuing … “Try and deny your DNA, old man! My friend will vouch that ya were trying to molest me when he came in to see what was taking me so long!” he lashed out looking my way in anticipation that I would support his cock and bull account of events.

I stumbled for words and finally sputtered, “Yeah, I seen everything, man! Look at the bruises ya caused. “ My cameo-acting debut was not near as convincing as my leading man but it must have had some theatrical impact on the man. He scowled at me with contempt, I got scared!

“Hand over your wallet and we’ll call it even since ya didn’t want to negotiate a lesser price and then threw insults at me, ya fuckin `old faggot bathroom queen!”

In absolute fear the man was visibly shaking, unable to utter intelligible words. He reached for his wallet and Jill grabbed it, pulling out bills, and then tossed the wallet into a toilet, remarkably from ten feet away! Moreover, if that wasn’t enough, he kicked the man between the legs sending him to his knees.

He replaced his shoe, pulled up his shorts, took off the T-shirt, and placed it upon the defeated man’s head, adding insult to injury!

“There ya go, fuck face, a token souvenir for ya!” With that, we were out and gone, laughing our heads off and $182.00 richer!

I had to ask, “Would ya have given him a blow job for eighty bucks, Jill?”

“Fucking right I would, dude! Can ya think of another way of making eighty bucks in two or three minutes? Them old men are so horny for boys that they can’t hold off cumming real quick, ya barely have to even suck it!”

The mysteries were beginning to unravel themselves. The man in the brown stone townhouse came to mind, as well as the Gym Teacher and apparent sexual assault accusations .but I inquired no farther.

We stopped at one of those expensive designer clothing stores in pursuit of Tommy Hilfiger jeans. I wanted a white pair but Jill explained that on the dance floor white pants would stand out too much in the darkness and draw attention should they happen to be resting below my ass while engaging in sex. A black pair was his recommendation.

The lone sales clerk was in his late twenties; his name badge read “Chad, Assistant Manager.” He was a screaming queen, faggot! He should have had it stenciled on his forehead! You could not help but notice his gaze that often wandered over Jill’s bare chest and prominent crotch obviously undressing Jill in his mind as he showed us the jeans. Jill certainly picked up on the man’s ogling and played it to the hilt!

Sudden disinterest in the jeans, “Oh, look Jacky! This bathing suit is to die for, isn’t it?” he said with an effeminate tone and gestures to match,” Excuse me Sir, but can I try this on along with the jeans? … Shit, I’m not wearing any underwear, damn it! I know that all stores have that policy when trying on swimsuits! Oh well, I’ll come back another time. Do you have lay away?” Without even a breath taken, Jill went on with his antics.

“I’m not real sure of my waist and length so I’ll take these three to try on. Where is your change rooms Sir?” The faggy sales man was beside himself with lust; the bulge at his crotch spoke volumes.

“My mom insisted that I have the sales person check for proper fit before spending a fortune. Ya know mothers, right?” he giggled, rolling his eyes for effect. “She even wanted to come shopping with me, like I’m still 10 years old … Jeepers!” he exclaimed, as he raised his hands in gesture of frustration with motherhood.

I had to stifle laughing aloud at Jill’s convincing act of homo-teen He then made a proposition that Chad could not refuse!

“Do ya mind coming in the change room to help me? I mean, like … instead of me coming out three times for your professional opinion.” he suggested with a sly, devious smirk “We’re in a bit of a hurry because it’s my 15th birthday! If anyone happens to wander into the store Jacky can tell them that you’ll be back in a jiffy!” Already bare chested and with the startling revelation that Jill was not wearing undies, the prospect of seeing him very naked was too much for Chad! He stumbled over his own feet, knocking over a sock display rack as he led Jill to the change room.

Safely out of view, I began loading up the backpacks with two pair of jeans each, black and white in our sizes. A couple of nice shirts, boxer briefs and the bathing suit that I wasn’t sure if Jill really liked or not, but I liked it and selected another for myself, my first felony crime was committed!

Ten minutes later, Jill emerged from the change room, Chad followed with a smug, satisfied look, like the cat that caught the mouse. Beads of perspiration rolled down his reddened face as he rang up a pair of jeans, giving a generous thirty percent staff discount as an added bonus. I paid for the purchase out of our extortion money that I was holding as Jill had no pockets.

We departed the Mall without haste. Jill confided that he allowed Chad to give him a blowjob, making Chad’s day a memorable one and stalling to allow me to shop lift. When Chad notices the pilfered merchandise there was not a chance in hell that he would report it or produce a video of the theft while he was pr-occupied with a young boy customer in a change room!

I was a little upset that he allowed faggy Chad full sexual access and made a jealous quip to the acknowledgment, “Getting naked in front of him wasn’t enough of a tactic, but letting him blow ya?” I accused with scorn “Hope ya enjoyed it!”

“I was barely hard and I didn’t cum, if you must know!” he said with a sneer, “I was just giving you time to get stuff. Gees, what’s with you?”

“Nothin, I guess!” I responded, not wanting to display my jealousy.

He suggested that we go to the Mega Aquatic Center for the rest of the afternoon and try out our new, designer swimsuits. I had never been there before but Jill claimed it to be a fun place. We had money and could rent towels and a locker to store our stolen goods valued at around $539.00, we discovered after adding up the price tags in our heads.

To be continued …

Copyrighted 2014 © Rob Loveboy