Young Doughy Joey

Excerpt:
words On Saturday night he’d tossed and turned, thinking about the pretzel guy’s soft eyes and small impish mouth (reminded him of a soft little beagle puppy). He even felt guilty because the guy seemed so young. The way his thick, juicy cock would taste dipped in pretzel salt; how his strong hands might leave white flour handprints on Joel’s hips after he’d slapped his ass hard a few times. He tried jerking off around two am; pulled out the biggest dildo he owned, lifted his legs, spread them wide and buried it as far up his hole as it would go, but even that couldn’t take his mind off rolling around in raw pretzel dough while the hot young pretzel boy nailed him to the wooden counter. So when he finally walked into the pretzel shop again on Sunday afternoon it’s no wonder his heart was racing and he wasn’t sure where to put his hands.
“Hey man,” said the pretzel guy, “back for more so soon. Good thing you came along when you did because I was just thinking of closing up early because of the snow.” A dark brown knitted ski cap covered most his head while clumps of dark hair hugged his ears and the back of his neck; he hadn’t shaved that morning and rough stubble now appeared in his soft face. Even with the awful hat he remained fine-looking and sexy. Far from being prissy and over-groomed like so many young guys (gay or straight) he saw nowadays.
“Ah, well, I was hungry last night,” Joel lied. “I think this snow works up my appetite. I’ll take another dozen and another hot sausage wrap, please.” The pretzel guy was wearing shorts, of all things. Baggy navy shorts with white stitching that stopped just above the knee…the kind you might wear on a summer afternoon at the beach. Of course you could still see the outline of his cock, but more than that, you could now see that he had firm calves covered with an even layer of dark brown fleece.
The guy smiled. He noticed Joel staring at his shorts. “It gets really hot in here with the ovens, and all,” he said, “I can’t imagine this place in the summertime.”
“You might have to just walk around in your underwear then,” Joel said. It just popped out of his mouth without warning; the moment he heard his own words he wanted to sink into the floor and disappear. He didn’t even know if this young man was gay. How could he have said such a…
“Maybe a pair of boxers,” he said, and then laughed. “Would you mind locking the door and pulling down the shade. I think I am going to close early on account of the snow, and I don’t want anyone else coming in.”
While Joel locked the door and pulled the shade the young guy turned and opened the oven. It looked like one of those massive stainless jobs you see in pizza parlors. “This one last batch is almost ready; one dozen especially for you direct from the hot oven.”