Joe’s Emporium


When my dad got transferred to the head office of the company he worked for, we found ourselves in a new city far north of where we formally lived. My father’s efforts had finally paid off and he got a substantial promotion. Although my mother and I were not ecstatic about the relocation, we accepted our fate graciously.Having turned sixteen, I was about to embark on the penultimate year of my high school career, and leaving the students I had grown up with behind was not what I had envisioned. Nevertheless, things being what they were, we found ourselves in an affluent suburb in our new milieu. The house my parents bought was past its sell-by date. The home was stately and had obviously been the envy of people thirty years before. In her inimitable manner, mom soon transformed the home into a far more contemporary and tasteful dwelling, enhancing its value immeasurably.  Because of the modest cost of the place, my mother had a substantial budget to spend on its enhancement. My mother’s skill transforming old houses, which had been her trade over the previous years, richly reaped the rewards, but I always pitied the contractors that worked for her.One of the highlights of our new environment was a small, open shopping area a hundred metres or so from us. It was the most delightful shopping open-air mall, consisting of a bakery, haberdashery store, bottle store, pool shop, laundromat, restaurant, food store, and even a Persian carpet store. Above this, there was also Joe’s Emporium, my mother’s favourite destination.Joe sold flowers, vegetables, nuts, pot plants, and an array of incredible nougat and Turkish delight isvecbahis treats, as well as dried fruits. A further enhancement to Joe’s business was how he gift-packaged his produce. A hamper from Joe was a work of art, and my mom always made a huge impression when visiting people who invited my parents for lunch or dinner. He was a wizard.     Joe was a hot man and must have been very good-looking as a youngster. I based my inference on his son, Emilio, who attended the same school as me. Emilio was two years older, but we were in the same standard. Emilio had failed at two years of school and was a below-average student. This predicament did not faze Emilio, knowing that he would work for and eventually run his dad’s business. Joe, however, was determined that his son should at least get a high school certificate. I was an above-average student, and this soon came to Joe’s attention via the customers that also had students at our school. Shortly, the inevitable happened when Joe implored my mother to allow me to give his son extra lessons in the afternoon.Emilio and I were not particularly friendly at school. Because of my mom’s patronage of Joe’s Emporium, especially on weekends when Emilio always worked in his dad’s business, we had a cordial relationship.Emilio had the sexiest dreamy brown eyes and a sturdy hairy body that excited me enormously. The curly black hair on his head was mesmerizing, and his broad hands made me wild with lust. I knew that he was popular with the girls at school because the bulge in his pants unequivocally heralded his supremacy in the alpha category.After the extra lessons isveçbahis giriş commenced, Emilio’s commitment to our project impressed me. It was apparent that he wanted to end his academic servitude as soon as possible so that he could wholeheartedly embark on his future career in his dad’s business. Our one-on-one interactions soon paid dividends, and to the delight of his dad, I proved to be a great teacher. The additional benefits mom received from Joe’s Emporium delighted her. Her purchases inevitably got embellished because of Joe’s gratitude as Emilio’s grades gradually improved.The other aspect of my interaction with Emilio was that although our lessons were going well, we were also developing a higher level of intimacy as Emilio began to share his sexual secrets with me. I was not surprised that he had fucked quite a few girls at our school. He had even nailed a few married female customers as well.He openly admitted that he had an above-average sex drive and masturbated incessantly.“Buddy, on a slow day, I cum at least six times,” he informed me before embarking on a discourse on his daily wanking routine. “I have a coffee maker next to my bed, and when I naturally wake up with a hard-on, I push the coffee button before caressing my dick. Then I sip and stroke leisurely, constantly edging before I finally unload. Once I’ve cum, I rub my seed onto my stomach before I have my morning shower.”As I sat intrigued, he asked, “Have you heard of plugging?”“No,” I answered, unfamiliar with the term.“Well, you insert your middle finger in your arse and caress your prostate. Most men have no idea that their isveçbahis yeni giriş arses are a major erogenous zone. It has nothing to do with being gay. One of our customers taught me this. When she stuck her finger in my arse, I freaked out initially but soon learned the pleasure of this practice. It’s awesome!” Emilio concluded.“So… You keep the ladies happy,” I proffered uncomfortably.“Sure. Adrian, I have a huge Latino dick. It looks like a bloated chorizo. Ladies love girth!” he assured me proudly.With a lame smile and bristling with lust, I asked, “So, when else do you masturbate?”“At least once during school. Then, before my lessons with you started, again when I get home in the afternoon. Night-time, when I get into bed, the main attraction takes place, and I truly, take my time.”Next, after getting off his chair, he extracted a locked suitcase from under his bed. After taking out a vibrator, he showed it to me. “This toy is unbelievable,” he enthusiastically informed me before adding, “Shit, buddy, I can hardly touch my cock when I have a piss, without getting a hard-on… I hope I marry a nympho one day.”“Wow,” was all I could think of saying before tentatively asking, “Do you watch a lot of porn?”“Yeah,” he uttered in a so-so fashion before qualifying, “But I don’t need much visual stimulation.”We sat quietly for several moments before he asked, “Have you ever tried anal stimulation?”“No,” I honestly answered.“Fuck, Adrian, you have to give it a go,” Emilio assured me.I was so sexually overstimulated by now that I decided to chance my arm. “Will you give a physical demonstration?” I tentatively asked.There was a confused look on his face before he smiled and said, “What the hell, with all you have done for me, it’s the least I can do. Just excuse me for a short while so I can clean up my act,” he muttered before heading to the bathroom.

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