poor boy

All of a sudden he recoiled and got up in bed. We were in underwears. His young smooth body still shined in the dark. He asked if there was a camera in the room. I wondered what kind of game that was.

The game has started a bit before, when I saw the boy walk slowly and stare me in a downtown street. I stopped, leaned on a car and waited. There's a lot of waiting in cruising. We talked and he offered to take me to his place. I offered my place instead. Told him I live with others. Thought that gave me more safety. 

When he said he's currently off his work (which is a vendor at a shop somewhere) I grew more anxious. I felt if he's jobless now, he's more keen to make money.

At home, I offered him to shower, his feet were unclean because he wore flip flops. I didn't really mind his dirtiness. It was more of a way of making him vulnerable and for me to feel more in control. Him naked in my bathroom. I also had a kick of the idea of seeing him naked there while I'm still fully clothed. 

He admired my view as they usually do. We stared into the abyss that is Cairo and started touching each others. Leading up to bed where after a few caresses, he recoiled.

He told me he was taken home by someone off the street and ended up being abused by four guys. He said he's too scared to do anything. I didn't want to stop but I didn't argue. He then asked for some of my liquor and ten pounds to get himself dinner. He said he goes lots of nights without dinner.  He said he hates that he is asking for money and that he'd pay back.

I gave him what he wants. I couldn't argue. I didn't want to. What is the use of arguing anyway. For a moment, I was angry that I had paid for sex that I didn't have. But then I wanted to give him more money than he asked for. But then I drew a boundary and let him go into the busy street.

I felt slightly relieved we didn't fuck. Then I felt frustrated, angry, tired. And then I wanted to stop feeling anything.