The Taste of Candy

He twirled around his finger a tattered piece of cloth, It was grimy and faded, the color of the sky when the sun is hidden from view by heavy, festering clouds - pregnant with cleansing tears. As he smiled at me I caught a spark from his lower set of teeth, the upper lip he intentionally curled down to obscure the top portion. Perhaps this vagabond had been on hard times for so long he had lost a tooth and his vanity wouldn't allow me to gaze upon his ruined gums. His mouth did indeed look very moist. His plump, red lips were slick with his saliva and he licked them so often I thought it possibly a nervous tic. His eyes gleamed as my trousers fell revealing my dripping erection. He was beyond pale, to the point I could almost see the veins working just beneath his skin. The flowing mane of jet black hair that looked perpetually blown back by some unearthly wind fell in great plumes upon his slender, slightly pointed shoulders. Not one part of his body looked healthy by any standard. His age couldn't have been more than twenty years yet he had an air about him of someone much older, more worldly.

I didn't mince words. I had no time. I had only met this young man by happenstance on my way home from the market and was due to report for work within the hour. I can't imagine anyone these days hitchhiking with all the loonies on the prowl, but that's just what this little bumpkin had been doing. Apparently for quite some time judging from his attire and lack of money. Still his fingernails (which were painted deep blue or black, hard to tell clearly in such low light) were immaculately kept, as was his flowing fountain of hair. I put it to him bluntly, "You wanna fuck me?". He snickered at my own shocked response to my forwardness. Couldn't be helped. I was horny and he was available. He'd already made it perfectly clear that he wanted me, as well. Even grabbing my cock through the trousers on the drive back to his destination, the location of which I am still unsure of.