Huck, Fashion Forward

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Kneepads, Huck thought as he shifted uncomfortably on the pavement, were a must for any working boy of today. Too many guys wanted blowjobs in alleys, and alleys weren’t exactly carpeted by anything other than E. coli, which was hard on his knees. Fortunately so many guys were into band-aids.

The guy in his mouth came in a small explosion, and Huck swallowed it all, looking up at his client, who had his eyes shut. Huck shrugged and kept swallowing, until he was done. He cleaned the guy’s dick off, making him shudder as he licked around the head, then stood up, wincing as he brushed little rocks from his knees. “You taste real good, mister,” he said, wiping his mouth.

“Th-thanks,” said the guy, who was probably a university student. He started to do up his pants and Huck helped him, making sure to boyhandle his dick a few times—the best way to nab a repeat customer. Then the guy kind of stood there awkwardly, and Huck stood there and smiled at him until he finally remembered to take out his wallet. “Fifteen dollars, right?”

“Yep,” confirmed Huck. All he wanted was bus fare and supper.

“I, uh, only have twenty.” The guy looked embarrassed for a second, then gave the twenty to Huck. “Keep the change.”

“Thanks!” Huck hugged the guy, slipping a piece of paper with his number into his back pocket. “I hope to see you again!”

And he left the guy there, headed for the bus stop. Some creep felt him up on the bus, but Huck didn’t charge him because his hand stayed above Huck’s shorts. At the mall, Huck went to a sports equipment store.

Ten minutes later, he was frustrated. Kneepads were all so ugly. How was he supposed to give off the cute whore look if he had bulky fucking shells on his legs?

Oh, he thought, looking at the models on the packaging. Maybe he could try a skater boy vibe? That could work, maybe. Okay. He grabbed some knee and elbow pads, went to look for clothes and was again disappointed. Shorts that came down to the knee? Even the tight bicycle shorts were long.

Ugh, nobody made clothes for boys like him. Well, he’d just chop things up with scissors until they weren’t so stupidly modest. He didn’t have the cash for them, but there was a cute guy near the fitting rooms. “Excuse me,” Huck asked him, tugging his sleeve. “Could you help me…try these on?”

With a fresh load of cum up his ass, Huck left the sports store with his stuff in a bag and headed for the big clothing store, where hopefully he’d find a few cute shirts and a hat to wear backwards. It was always a bit of a hassle, but he’d find something eventually.

When he got there and got to the boys’ section, Huck blinked. There were crop tops here. And short enough shorts, too. Things that were tight, shirts with low necklines. Where had all this come from?

All of them were made by the same apparel company when he looked at the tags. This was…this was so cool! Finally someone was making clothes for him! Huck was overjoyed.

And poor. He frowned, looking around the store. He spotted an ideal looking mark, a guy there with two kids, and took some clothes he liked off the rack, heading for the fitting room. He threw on a short shirt and tight shorts, then listened, waiting for the mark to come in with his kids and usher them into their own cubes.

Then Huck opened the door. “Excuse me, mister? Do you think these look good on me?”



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