The Deflowered Cub Scout

The Deflowered Cub Scout

Richie stood nonchalantly behind the bar at Joe’s absentmindedly wiping away invisible smudges.

“You mind?” Methos grumpily snapped when Richie tried to take his beer bottle.

“I thought you were done,” Richie shrugged putting it back.

“What are you doing back there, anyway?”

“Told Joe I’d take care of the place for him while he’s off following Mac around Europe,” the younger immortal shrugged. “Want another?”

“Sure.”

Richie got another bottle out of the cooler behind the bar. “What are you doing here?”

“This is where I come to relax when I’m in this hell hole of a town.”

“Hey now, this is my hometown you’re talking about here,” Richie teased. “I happen to be very attached to this hell hole.”

“I see MacLeod has taught you well.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“All this homeland nonsense. In a thousand years, you will forget where this city is.”

“Why are you so cynical all the time?” Richie asked as he took money from a customer who wanted to settle his tab.

“Because the exuberance of youth got old after a while.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“When yoe noe no longer wide eyed and innocent, you’ll know.”

“What makes you think I’m snocenocent?” Richie asked with an amused grin.

“You are much more innocent than I. And as long as you play Cub Scout for MacLeod you will be as wide eyed as a doe.”

“Hey, I’m no MacLeod,” Richie insisted as the last customer paid their tab.

“You’re not me either.”

“And that’s such an insult?” He got out from behind the bar and began wiping down tables and putting the chairs up. “Why would I want to be like you? You’re old, rude, obnoxious and get a great biggh ogh outta people expecting you to have some sort of wisdom.”

“Wisdom is not gained with age, rather with effort.” Methos got up and went behind the bar. He got two shot glasses out and put them on the polished oak bar. “What are you drinking?” he asked the young immortal.

Richie shrugged. “Whatever you are, I guess.”

Methos got a fresh bottle of whiskey off the shelf and poured two shots. “So how are you faring without Macleod?” he asked.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. I was just asking how well you handled yourself without him here to tell you your every move.”

“What is with you?” Richie asked after downing his shot. “Why are you raggin’ on me an’ Mac?”

“Because I have yet to understand your relationship. And tonight I feel like learning.”

“You know something? I never realized how very weird you were until tonight. How much have you had to drink?”

“I am just a sober as you. Now, what is MacLeod to you?”

Richie shrugged and accepted the second shot Methos poured him. “A friend.”

“What sort of friend?”

“A good one.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Then what do you mean?”

“You live with him.”

“Used to.”

“Work for him.”

“Yeah.”

“And travel with him.”

“So?”

“I was just wondering.”

Richie furrowed his brow. “Wondering what?”

“How close are you two?”

Richie thought for a minute. “Family. He’s like a brother.”

“Ah. A bet lost.”

“What?”

“I lost a bet.”

“What bet?”

“Nothing.” Methos poured Richie a third shot.

“What?” Richie asked again, drinking the shot.

“The watchjustjust have a bit of a bet running on you two.”

“What’s the bet on?”

“If you two have ever slept together.”

Richie’s jaw dropped, as did the shot glass his was holding. “WHAT?”

“It wasn’t for much, just a hundred bucks.” Methos picked up the pieces of the broken shot glass.

“And you bet that we did?”

“You’re always following him around. You’re a bit of a brat.”

“I am not his brat!”

“You have to admit, on outward appearances, it seems quite likely.”

“It does not!”

“Don’t get so worked up about it.”

“It’s sick that you guys sit around drinking coffee and talking about my sex life!”

“Oh, you’re the topic of many a conversation.”

“What?”

“You are quite the catch in the watchers’ eyes. It’s hard to find anyone who doesn’t want you in bed.”

Richie had to admit. That was one hell of a compliment. However, he could not believe the words that came out of his mouth next, “What about you?”

Methos smirked and played with his shot of whiskey that he hadn’t drank yet. “What about me?”

“Do you agree with them?”

“About what?”

“Do you want me in bed?” He looked Methos straight in the eye as he asked it.

“I suppose it would be lying if I said I had never thought about it.”

Richie took Methos’ shot from him and downed it. “Wanna go back to my place?” he asked before he lost his nerve.

Methos smiled. “What for?”

“A nice game of Chinese checkers, wadaya think?”

“If I didn’t know any better I’d swear the Cub Scout was coming on to me.”

“Yes or no?”

“Do you want me in bed?”

Sighing, Richie turned around and went back to putting the chairs on top of the tables. “Forget it.”

When he turned around, Methos was standing by the door in his coat and holding Richie’s. “Do you want to drive, or shall I?”

. . . . . .


"I’ve never done this before," Richie admitted with a blush as he let his jeans drop around his ankles.

"Just like with the girls only from the other side," Methos answered licking him lips at the site of the well hung young man. They stood on opposite sides of Richie’s queen sized bed.

"I've never done that either," Richie mumbled grabbing a pillow off the bed and covering himself. He sat on the edge of his bed and picked at lint balls on his bedspread.

A wicked smile played across Methos’ lips. He closed the small gap between himself and the virgin and took the pillow away. "This is going to be fun." He gently ran his fingers over Richie’s chest. “You’re shaking.”

“I know,” Richie whispered.

He played with the blonder curly hair, twisting it around his fingers. “You don’t have to be nervous. I’m very gentle.”

Richie nodded and swallowed. “We’ll start slowly.” His hand slid down Richie’s abdomen. “This needs to be much stiffer.” He gently stroked Richie’s penis until it became hard and erect. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Richie shook his head. “Why don’t you just sit back and relax while I make you more comfortable?”

Taking a deep breath, Richie leaned back into his pillows. He had always loved pillows. Tessa had really spoiled him in that department. She had a love for pillows and bought him lots of shams and throw pillows for his bed in the loft. The pillows had been some of the few things from the loft Richie had in his apartment. Richie suddenly felt very wrong having sex while thinking of Tessa and laying on her pillows. Richie slowly relaxed as Methos gently massaged his inner thighs and played with his erection. It really did feel good. He jumped slightly when Methos started playing with his toes.

“Why’d you stop?” he asked.

“It’s better this way,” Methos assured him. He started rubbing Richie’s calves. He worked his way up Richie’s legs, taking time to knead every muscle in one before moving to the other. “Does that feel good?”

“Yeah,” Richie sighed.

“Good. Because now we’ll get to the good stuff.” He gently fingered Richie’s balls.

It seemed every ounce of Richie’s blood rushed to his already bulging cock. He groaned and balled his hands into fists.

“Grab the headboard. Don’t let go.”

Richie reached up and grabbed the wrought iron above his head. Methos closed his mouth around Richie’s hardened flesh. He played with the head, not too surprised to find Richie had been circumcised. He sucked and nibbled while Richie groaned and moaned.

Richie grabbed the headboard so hard, he could feel the decorative iron cutting into his flesh. It wasn’t as if he had never masturbated before, but having someone else do it for you was much more enjoyable.

Methos smiled to himself; he could feel Richie about to let loose. He reached up and grabbed Richie’s hips. He reached under the young immortal and let his fingers find their way into Richie’s hole.

“Agh!” Richie yelled at the sudden intrusion.

Methos left the erection alone and looked up at the trembling, sweating young immortal. Richie was clinging with all his might to the headboard, blood dripping from his hands.

“Stop?” the question was simple. If the boy wanted him to stop, he would stop. Though he hoped that the boy would say no. Richie took a shaky breath and shook his head no: “Finish it.”

Methos went back to his task, finding the cock just as he had left it: quivering in anticipation. Smiling to himself, he went past the member and back down to Richie’s toes.

“No,” Richie groaned. When Methos showed no interest in obliging him, Richie let go of the headboard, reaching down to finish it himself.

Methos slapped his hand away. “Don’t make me get a belt.”

“Finish it!” Richie demanded reaching back for the headboard.

“Give me my time.”

“No!” Richie sat up. “Finish it!”

“Make me.”

Richie grabbed Methos by the hair and pushed his head to his intolerably painful erection. Methos opened his mouth and devoured he flesh. Just a few seconds of teasing and Richie came, squirting a long line of semen and fluids into Methos’ mouth.

Richie groaned and his entire body shook, then relaxed back into the bed.

Methos took a second to swallow the liquid, then crawled up to lay beside Richie.

“Was it acceptable?” Methos asked.

“I never thought I would ever do this,” Richie admitted, still panting. “But to have your first time with the oldest man alive….”

“Makes the rest seem like they’ll be a let down?” Methos asked, rolling over Richie and pinning his arms to the bed. Richie’s breath caught in his throat and he couldn’t respond. “Trust me… they will be.”

He leaned in and closed his lips over Richie’s and forced his tongue into his mouth. This, Richie knew how to do and eagerly returned the gesture, pushing his tongue around Methos’ and into his mouth. He explored his new found lover’s mouth, finding each molar and tooth, sliding his tongue so far back that he nearly gagged him. Richie laughed to himself at the odd sensation it gave him as Methos’ entire body jerked toward him.

Feeling ambitious, Richie left Methos’ mouth and began to nibble on his ear and suck on his neck. Methos, while much more interested in exploring Richie’s back side, allowed the boy to wander seemingly aimlessly across his chest, stopping to play with each nipple until they were nothing but hard bumps protruding from the ancient’s chest. He shyly began to explore further down, thrusting his tongue as deep as it would go into the immortal’s navel.

Methos reached down and ran his fingers through Richie’s hair, massaging the scalp. “Go ahead,” he encouraged. “It’s easy. Just try.” Richie moved down and stared at Methos’ already hardening manhood. “Touch it.” He reached out and gently touched one of Methos’ balls. “Here.” Methos moved Richie’s hand and wrapped his fingers around his penis. “You know what to do. Just do it.”

With determination, Richie set to work trying to excite his newfound playmate.

“Relax, take your time.”

Richie nodded and slowly began to stroke and fondle Methos until, to the young man’s great pleasure, the limp flesh sprang to life.

Methos sat up and began to stroke Richie’s hair. “Keep going. You’re doing fine.”

While Richie tried his hardest to make Methos cum, Methos busied himself kissing any part of Richie he could reach. As Richie stroked the purple flesh, mimicking what Methos had done, Methos nibbled on Richie’s ear and licked at his face. When Methos felt himself about to cum, he shoved Richie’s face into his crotch.

“Suck it.”

“I..um…uh…”

“Do it!” he commanded, pushing Richie’s face closer. “Do it now!”

Richie opened his mouth and accepted the thick, warm prize. Not quite sure what to do now, he sucked and moved his tongue up and down the cock. Suddenly, and to a novice, without warning, hot goo shot into the back of his throat. Richie jumped back, hacking and coughing, trying to catch his breath. He had the feeling he wasn’t supposed to run and rinse out his mouth, since Methos hadn’t, but the flavor was awful!

Methos began rubbing patting Richie’s back. “It was a valiant effort.”

“Guess I’m not very good at this,” Richie admitted.

“You’re doing fine,” Methos assured him. “But, maybe I should just concentrate on you for a while.”

He nodded. “What’s next?”

“Next, you lay down and let me do all the work.”

He situated Richie on his stomach and straddled his hips and started massaging the knots out of his shoulders.

“Does every blow job come with a massage?”

“If you play your cards right...”

Richie smiled and relaxed. Methos’ hands worked down his back, slowly and methodically relaxing every muscle he touched, until he was massaging Richie’s butt cheeks.

“Here we go.” He licked his fingers the gently inserted one into Richie’s ass. Richie sucked in his breath and gritted his teeth. “Relax, it’ll be easier if you relax.” Richie forced his muscles to relax. “There you go.” Methos stretched the tight muscles, then inserted another finger and another. “All ready. On your hands and knees.”

Richie positioned himself. Just as Methos was about to enter him, he flopped over onto his back.

“Aren’t you supposed to use lubricant or something?”

“I didn’t for my fingers.”

“Are you sure? I mean, I hear it hurts pretty bad if you don’t…”

Methos sighed. “Do you have any?”

Richie got up and went into his bathroom. He paused for a split second when he caught sight of himself in the full length mirror.

“I like the way it looks, too,” Methos said from the bed, watching him.

“Uh…” Richie opened the medicine cabinet and pulled out a tub of Vaseline. “Will this work?” he asked,

“Sure. Now get back here.”

Richie resumed his position and took a deep breath.

“The worst is over.” Methos assured him. “Here I come.” Methos slowly entered Richie. “You have to relax.” He put his hands on Richie’s hips and thrust gently. “There you go.” He felt Richie relax under his hands. “Just feel it. Let go. Say something.”

“Ugh…” Richie groaned.

“Harder?”

“Harder,” he panted.

Methos thrust himself into Richie with more vigor. He kept his hands on Richie’s hips, using them as a guide.

“Harder!” Richie suddenly ordered, moving his hips to help Methos in his quest. “More!”

“You like it, Cub Scout?”

“Harder!”

“Tell me you like it!”

“AGH!” Richie yelled.

“Tell me you like it!”

“I like it!” Richie yelled.

“Louder!”

“I like it!”

“Louder!”

“FUCK ME!”

With a final thrust, Methos came. Richie groaned as he came as well, soiling his bed sheets even further.

Methos laughed a strange primordial laugh and withdrew. Richie’s arms and legs gave way and he collapse onto his stomach, panting and sweaty.

“You liked it?”

“Oh, my God,” Richie groaned, shoving his face into his pillows. “Oh, my God,” he repeated. He rolled onto his back and faced Methos, who had laid down beside him. “My God,” he whispered.

“That’s very kind of you, but Master will do just fine.”

Richie laughed and put his hand over Methos’ heart. “That was…I dunno… it was…”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“I mean I have no frame of reference, but it was good.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it as much as I did.”

“That’s it? We’re done?”

“That’s all you can take,” Methos assured him.

“Now what?” Richie asked, daring to snuggle into Methos’ chest.

“Now…” Methos pushed Richie away and got up. “Now I go home for a nice beer or six.”

“That’s it? Fuck ‘em and leave ‘em?”

“I’m not leaving, you,” Methos said, getting up and looking for his jeans. “I’m simply going home.”

“But why? Did I do it wrong? I thought you said you liked it?” Richie got up and crawled to the end of the bed.

“You did it well. I just don’t think you’re ready for a real relationship yet. And I’m not ready to tell MacLeod I’ve deflowered his Cub Scout.”

“So this is it?”

“Maybe next time your den leader leaves you unattended for a weekend, I’ll be back.”

Methos finished getting dressed and walked out of the room. Richie got up and followed him.

“But…”

“No butts… except yours… back in that bed. Or in a nice hot bath, you’re going to need it soon.”

Richie nodded dumbly and watched Methos leave the apartment. He went to the window and watched Methos walk down the street until he turned the corner. He went back into the bathroom and ld atd at himself in the full length mirror… the deflowered Cub Scout.