Owning the Paradise Arcade
By Rob Loveboy
with edits by “Brad Gillespie”
A profitable business with benefits!
Thirty-five-year-old Ronald Wilkie had the world by the balls: lots of money and plenty of boys. It was the first that attracted the second. Ron had inherited a great sum of money at age thirty from his grandfather, which he invested in a lifelong pipe-dream of owning his own gaming arcade, which he built into a chain of six “Galaxy Paradise Arcade” locations around the city. The boys came to him; he never had to go looking for them ever again.
A gamer at heart, he collected the outdated video games of Atari and Playstation, hooked up to TV monitors along with a few nostalgic pinball machines, all functional and displayed in the playroom of his modest ranch-style home.
Ron was a charismatic man; kids of all ages took to him. From the time he was thirteen, he was having sex with younger boys he sat for and neighbor kids. An early bloomer, he had a little pubic hair by the time he was twelve, and could ejaculate long thick gobs of semen six months later, something that fascinated the 5- to eight-year-olds, besides his rather large genitals. He learned quickly that boys were a curious lot, daring, and loved intrigue and secrets at that tender age. He taught them how to give him handjobs and later, blowjobs. Seldom a day went by when Ron didn’t have a least one boy in his bedroom for sex, he also loved sucking their little dicks to erection and fingering their bums, afraid of hurting them physically with his seven thick-inch cut cock that only grew marginally by another half-inch as he aged.
As Ron grew older, so had his taste in boys, preferring the 12-to-fourteen range. However, lads that age were not as vulnerable as he was used to: it was a hell of a challenge to get into their pants, which increased with the growing disparity between his age and theirs; the generation gap had all but severed his sex life when he reached adulthood.
Sure, he found a few boys his own age to fool around with, even fucking one for the first time at sixteen, then, as an adult, realizing how much he enjoyed one up his own ass on occasion frequenting the bath-houses. However, his yearning for boys only intensified, to the point where he was contemplating abducting one and raping him. Ron would fantasize his well-thought-out plan each time he jerked off, tweaking and fine tuning the details.
That problem was solved when Ron opened his first Galaxy Paradise in a popular shopping mall. He quickly earned a reputation of being a cool guy, and struck up friendships one by one. Once their trust was gained, he would seduce them at his home, where beer, pot, and Ecstasy were readily available, as were his toys and swimming pool, his choice of exercise in staying fit year-round, that he had enclosed in glass, serving a dual purpose for the hobby horticulturalist. The greenhouse was lush with plants and flowers of almost every kind; a few birds found their way inside and made it their home.
Ron would never forget the first boy he asked home. Robin Taylor was 13, dark-skinned, with dirty-blond hair, and hazel eyes: the boy reeked sexuality. Ron found the opening he was looking for when he learned Robin was an avid swimmer, a member of the YMCA swim team, as had Ron been many years ago.
“You should come over sometime and work out with me; it’s only thirty feet, but a guy can still get a decent power swim,” Ron invited, his cock hard thinking about what the boy would look like out of his clothes.
“Sure Ronny, that’d be rad!” the boy replied with enthusiasm. “When can we do it?”
“How ‘bout Saturday, say around two, when Larry, my manager, gets here to take over from me.”
It was the longest two days of Ron’s life anticipating Saturday. He ran a million seduction scenarios through his mind: the what-ifs, lead-ins, rejection, and repercussions. Just when he thought he had nailed a plan, Robin asked if his buddy, Mark Willis, could join them. Ron knew the thirteen-year-old brunette from the arcade. Kind of skinny, but kind of handsome — except for his large ears, that Ron had visions of holding while he face-fucked the kid. Seducing two boys was going to be an even greater challenge; however, it would seem odd if he refused Robin the other boy’s presence. Was Robin afraid to be alone with him? Was his interest in the boy revealing enough to cause him to be concerned? Ron decided to let fate decide the outcome, he would have to be reactive rather than proactive, and formulate a plan as he went along.
The two boys were in awe of the man’s home as Ron took them on a tour. They especially liked the playroom and old pinball machines, and that’s where they settled themselves to play a few games. Ron didn’t ask; he opened three beers and handed one to each. Their faces lit up, a little surprised, but appreciative. He stood between them watching, with an intimate hand on a shoulder of each boy.
Another beer later, Ron brought out a couple of joints, “You guys smoke?” lit one and offered it first to Robin. The looks he got were priceless: shock and awe that a grown man would offer them not only beer but generously some weed. What a cool guy.
“Yeah, once in a while.” said Mark. “When we can get it.”
Robin took a long pull and started coughing. Mark did the same on his toke. They weren’t so eager puffing their second hit and managed to contain it in their lungs. Robin moved to the entertainment unit, placed a DVD in the player, and the large-screen TV lit up showing a guy and a girl fucking.
He said, “A little entertainment on the side while we play pinball, fellas.”
Robin smirked coyly, “Yer awesome, dude!
“Fuckin’ eh!” agreed Mark.
Eyes frequently wandered to the right to view the smut, then back to the games they were playing, making the odd comment about tits and pussy. Both boys were wearing jeans, and Ron couldn’t really notice any bulges; however, they adjusted themselves several times, assuring him they were indeed excited.
Ron supplied more beer and joked, “I think we should get that swim in before we’re too wasted and end up drowning. Wanda’s big tits can wait a while. What ya say?”
“You bet!” agreed both boys simultaneously.
Ron was nervous as hell. Winging it was working out nicely so far, but that was the easy part. When he saw the boys looking around the pool area, their small kit-bags in hand, he knew they were searching for a change room. He began to strip his clothing, tossing the articles on a chair.
Mark asked, “Where can we change?”
“Do you see any women around, Marky?” Saying that, he dropped his underwear, standing naked and semi-erect under their watchful wide eyes. “Who needs a bathing suit?” Ron dove in the water, leaving the boys to figure things out for themselves, he had set the precedent, he could only hope they joined him and forgo the suits.
When Ron surfaced, he heard Robin yell, “SKINNY DIPPING!” as he and Mark ran to dive into the pool, leaving their clothes piled where they had been quickly removed. The man breathed a sigh of relief, catching just a few seconds of their nudity before only white bare asses were seen passing under water, and again on the rebound.
Ron got out of the water to fetch their beer, brought along, not at all ashamed of his erection, even squatting to place the bottles at poolside, then sat on the edge to lower himself back into the water. He could see the uncomfortable boys stealing glances: perhaps their sudden jostling trying to dunk each other was a distraction away from the immodest man. Soon as Ron was belly deep, they ceased the horseplay and swam to join the man at the edge to drink their beer.
Their genitals were blurred, for the most part; nonetheless, the shape of shafts floating and dark pubic regions were every bit as erotic to Ron, his own cock bobbing under less than a foot of water, leaving hardly anything to the imagination, as they stood around chatting about nothing in particular.
Ron wondered if he should start something by feeling them up, maybe then initiate a circle jerk to get things on the right track for the rest of the afternoon and evening. He decided to bide his time: a little Ex, the sex drug, might loosen inhibitions for later, when a bisexual flick was planned for their viewing enjoyment and hopeful aid in arousal. Wanda big-tits was only an appetizer to “High School Orgy,” where the actors looked much younger than eighteen, his favorite porn movie in his vast collection. He bought the video in Mexico many years ago; who knows, maybe the cast were in fact kids, despite the opening disclaimer of legal age.
As if the boy-lover gods were looking down on Ron, Robin and Mark climbed out of the pool, covering their genitals with both hands, and bolted for their clothes, when Mark arrived first and scooped up Robin’s pile and tossed them into the pool. The battle was on then.
Robin was dumbfounded at first, then coming to his senses, ran after Mark, who was clutching his own stuff, running around the pool laughing with Robin in hot pursuit snatching loose items and tossing them in the water. Ron laughed hysterically at the boyish antics, while he took in sight of them preoccupied and unconsciously exposed as a tug-of-war ensued over Mark’s jeans.
Robin was a beauty, just as Ron dreamt he would be. Maybe it was his overactive imagination, but the boy appeared semi-erect, flopping back and forth. Uncut, the cock was about four inches, and curved downward like a banana pepper. A thin golden growth surrounded only the base, which was wet and glued to his groin. His cherry-size testicles swayed to and fro in the low hanging pink sack during the battle-of-the-denim.
Mark was smaller, with a cut dick with length and girth no bigger than Ron’s thumb. A thick mat of brown hair was plastered to his groin, his grape-size balls rode high half the length of his cock — perhaps the cool water of the pool had caused shrinkage. Regardless, Ron found the boy equally as intriguing, skin and bones and big ears notwithstanding.
Robin couldn’t pull the jeans away from Mark, so he managed a head lock and eventually overpowered his adversary, successfully dumping them both in the pool. Ron could not stop laughing at the shenanigans, and then watching them collect water-logged socks and underwear, shirts, and pants from the bottom of the pool, both exhausted after their playful fight, gasping for air between search and rescues.
Clothing all gathered, the proverbial sock missing somewhere, perhaps in the filtration system, the boys followed Ron, with their soaked belongings held waist level, to the washer/dryer room, where Ron once again got to see them stark naked loading the dryer. He gathered some towels, and they dried off and sported the white terry-cloths around their waists, the slightly small coverings slipping, a hand dedicated to keeping them in place, as they ventured to the playroom pinballs. Ron, who had the option of dressing, kept his larger towel well tucked in place over his left hip. The clothing would take at least an hour to dry; he had best act quickly before they asked to dress.
Pinball was a two-handed strategy, and sometimes a player needed to dance; he laughed when the boys stooped to retrieve their only protection of modesty several times. Worse yet for Robin and Mark, Wanda reappeared on the large-screen TV, sucking off her co-star. Both boys leaned into the machines to keep towels in place, even if the one side fell away exposing their bums, but precariously covering their genitals. Another beer and toke seemed to have allowed that little indiscretion, while the plungers banged balls banged and bells rang. Ron thought it ironic that the boys had their choice of modern day TV games at their disposal, yet seemed to behold the old fashioned mechanical pioneer technology of gaming.
“YES!” and/or, “Fuck!” were vocalized in stereo to Ron in the middle, his arm around each near-naked boy trying to keep modesty pressed against the machine, before a chance to recover the towel and go through the process all over again. The scenes on the TV preoccupied them, not daring to pull away from the machine to recoup a towel, their game suffering from inattention.
Robin spoke, “Wally Miller claims that Katie gives him blowjobs.” he said to no one in particular.
“Yeah, but Wally Miller has always been full of shit.” Mark countered.
Ron knew the boy and the girl from the arcade and if Katie was sucking Wally off she was a very lucky girl in his opinion. Wally, 14, was a stud. All-star middle-school quarterback with great looks and a perpetual smile showing his whiter-than-white perfect teeth. He always wore tracksuits, covering what had to be a large cock that flopped around when he walked and was almost hypnotic to Ron; he wondered if the boy wore underwear.
Ron’s hand wandered lower over their backs, all the while encouraging and complementing the scores ringing, lights flashing and, as well, suffering their tilt loses with with the same agony of defeat. All the while, his hand went lower during the excitement of the game, a thumb resting just below a hip, while other fingers cautiously grazed the soft bun cheeks. If the boys noticed, they were much too preoccupied with their pinball games and porno flick at the same time
Ron did not relish the idea of supplying chemical drugs to the boys: beer and marijuana was one thing, the hard-core drugs he kept were for orgies with the young twinks he brought home from gay bars. He decided to put the ball in their court.
“You guys ever done Ex?” he asked.
Mark glanced quickly at him and responded, “Not yet, my brother and his buds do it once in a while.”
Robin added, “And lots of people in school when they go to rave parties.” He took a long pause from his game and asked, “Why, you got some?
“Yup. But I don’t really want you guys going home stoned — nor will I drive under the influence, so I guess we shouldn’t — unless you guys can stay overnight.” It was a shot in the dark that popped into his mind as he said it..
Robin and Mark looked at each other, Mark shrugged his shoulders saying, “Dude, we can always call the ‘rents and say we’re crashin’ at each other’s place.” Robin nodded in agreement.
Ron was ecstatic, being provided more time to set the stage. He left the boys to make their white-lie phone calls on their cell phones as he went upstairs to gather his drug stash. He stopped in the hallway in front of the full-length mirror and removed the towel. He studied himself in the eyes of the boys downstairs. He saw a man in his prime, slightly receding hairline, flabby in places, a nice cock over plump shaven testicles, trimmed pubes — not bad for a man his age, he reasoned, but he wished he was a teenager again, knowing then what he knew now.
Ron was surprised to see Robin and Mark seated at either end of the sofa watching the porno, he plopped himself in the middle and handed each a tablet that they chased down with beer. He laughed: sooner than they thought, they would be craving water, a dehydration side effect of the drug.
Once the movie ended, Ron remotely activated the VCR to watch “High School Orgy.” He knew every scene in the hour long flick and that the same-sex scenes began halfway through. In the mean time, five girls and six boys appearing as young as 14, and no older than sixteen, all average looking kids, had been playing a game of strip poker. The scene went on longer than Ron thought necessary; eventually five boys and four girls were all naked, as the two sexes competed for loss of their panties or underwear. The winner held the incontestable choice of sexual acts performed on him. — Chris opted for the game of blowjob roulette, where he stood and each player competed sucking him off, no hands could be used. The winner was the person who Chris finally burst a nut over the face of. An egg-timer was set for one minute.
Ron was boned up and playing with it under his towel, both boys were well aware what he was doing. He dared then to initialize what would be either set the tone or spoil it, the dryer heard in the distance signaled a ding. His heart in his mouth, Ron asked, “You guys ever jerked off together?”
The tension in the air was thick. It was a loaded personal question up for denial or admission, he remembered the many times he and his friends had done it together, either under or atop the covers, he chanced that they had.
A few moments went by, finally, red faced Mark spoke up, “Yeah, a few times, I ggguess.”
Robin qualified the statement, “Under the covers — ya know?”
“Nothing wrong with a few buds jerking off together, most guys do.” he removed the towel, exposing himself rubbing his meat. “I’m not shy. You guys should join me.” Holding his breath, he waited.
Mark was first to reveal his erection, a hand quick to wrap it that was probably more of a modest gesture. Robin slid his towel off; a hand could never hide the six thick inches, with the purple head peeking from his foreskin.
Eureka! Ron almost screamed out. Instead he giggled and said, “Now we’re gettin’ down and dirty to enjoy the porn to its fullest!”
As Robin and Mark would expect, the girls took turns kneeling before Chris to blow him for one minute; meanwhile, the others were kissing and fondling each other, while watching before and after each girl performed. What the boys didn’t expect was the male actors then taking turns on Chris’ cock, with every bit the gusto the girls had to get him off. The winner would be next to assign sex play to the group.
“Holy Fuck!” Robin blurted, “Those guys are sucking his cock, too!”
“Gross,” murmured Mark.
“What’s the problem with that? Guys usually give better head than girls, anyway.”
Robin was shocked, asking, “You’d let a guy hob-knob ya?”
It was do or die time. Ron replied, “Not only let one do it, I’ve done it myself.”
“Fuck, you a queer?” Mark asked, his face showing disgust.
“Nope, not a queer. Bisexual. — I get the best of both worlds,” he lied, never having had sex with a girl in his life. “More guys are bi than you think. It’s not something guys talk about over a beer together, but a study done on it a few years ago indicates that 4 of five males had experimented, 3 of five males consider themselves bisexual, and 1 in five confirmed they were gay.”
“Seriously?” asked Robin. “Who the hell did they ask?”
“Good question, Robin. They surveyed twenty large high schools in major cities. The intent was to determine sexual activity among youth, be it hetero or homo. A conglomerate of condom manufacturers paid for it as market research. They desperately want to install condom vending machines in schools, so they had to prove that kids were sexually active and that the schools weren’t doing enough in promoting safe sex. The education boards argued that condom machines in schools would be seen as promoting sexual activity. I think the battle still continues to rage on the issue,” he lied through his teeth, never taking his eyes off Robin’s beautiful genitals.
Mark was still preoccupied mulling over Ron admitting that he sucked cock. Just to clarify, he bluntly asked, “You’ve sucked cock?”
Ron ignored the question. Keeping Robin focussed on the issue at hand, he added, “You claim you would not allow a guy to suck your dick. That’s fine, but you’re going to wait a very long time to find a girl to do it; most won’t anyway. That’s why more and more teenagers are going for it, there isn’t the hangups about it that there once was, the buddy system is growing in numbers. You want to spend the next few years beating your meat — that’s 730 times a year at the average of twice a day, add 10% more for weekends and summer break,” he laughed, “then go for it!”
Ron couldn’t resist reaching over and taking Robin’s hand off his cock to replace it with his own. The boy swallowed hard, but didn’t resist, his eyes fixed on the TV once again. Ron did the same with Mark, who did resist for a moment, then ceded his tight grip, releasing it to persistent Ron.