Beautiful Creamer

Try Boys

Stories 6-12

Charlie Bohner and Trevor Moistbum (11yo)

One – Making the Break

And he saw no way out of it.

The hall had been rented. Caterers, florists, musicians, gownmaker – all paid in advance. Invitations sent and accepted.

And yet 3;

Was marrying Monica Clampthighs the right thing to do?

Two weeks before the alleged wedding, Charlie didn't think so.

They weren't even married yet and Monica was already a nagging, manipulating emasculator.

Charlie would have probably called it off long ago if Monica hadn't been so effing gorgeous. And stacked. Forty-two double-dees. Legs to die for.

And yet 3;

Monica wasn't exactly generous with her favors.

Downright stingy, she was, as Yoda would say.

Though they had been engaged for ten months, Monica had never permitted anal sex to defile her personage. Nor had she allowed Charlie to frost her immaculately made-up, impossibly beautiful face with his hot, male cream. Monica hadn't even swallowed a thick, creamy load of Charlie's 'hi-test baby fuel'.

In other words, none of the stuff that makes a man feel like a full, complete man.

Would things get better when they were married?

Charlie seriously doubted it.

Charlie was feeling depressed about it all that Friday night as he and Monica ate dinner at Monica's favorite restaurant. It was always Monica's favorites that they chose as a couple.

[Sigh]

Nevertheless, massive social pressure would have probably pushed Charlie into a 'life sentence' – 'marry in haste, repent at leisure' – situation with Monica if that fateful, loving couple hadn't entered the restaurant that night.

Heads turned throughout the restaurant when the couple entered, because the duo were two things one rarely sees. First, they were openly, passionately, unashamedly in love. Second, they were what some might call an 'unconventional' couple.

The man was in his mid-thirties, tall, fit, and Clooneyishly handsome. The women in the restaurant noticed that immediately.

The other member of the couple made the women look away in obvious distaste. And made the men sit up and pay 'rigid' attention.

The man's eager, submissive lover was a boy. A beautiful boy, no older than late ten – early eleven. A beautiful boy, dressed provocatively in the shortest shorts, the briefest t-shirt and the strappiest, pinkest sandals.

Oh my.

Charlie gulped as he watched the man and boy settle into their booth and, ignoring their menus and the disapproving stares of the room's women, begin to kiss each other's mouths with wet passion.

Oh my.

Charlie didn't know why, but his cock was in the full, upright position. A condition it had rarely known as his wedding approached.

Charlie knew what he was seeing was 'wrong'. Or so he had been told all his life except for the wisps of change that had been forming in recent months during the evolving Try Boys movement.

Try boys!

Indeed!

That man in the booth was certainly trying a boy. His tongue was licking the young beauty's tonsils. The boy was squirming and grunting in heated pleasure. Freed from the surly bonds of shame, the lovers had slid their hands below the table and were obviously fondling each other's 'personal possessions'.

Oh me oh my!

It was all so flaming hot!

So completely what Charlie 3;

"I SAID, did you hear me, Charlie?" Monica said. "I said, isn't that a despicable display? Those animals should be thrown out on the pavement and hosed down with cold water. Then horsewhipped!"

Something snapped inside Charlie's heated brain. Something that should have snapped long ago. He looked at the man and boy. In love. Giving themselves to each other. The boy regularly and enthusiastically permitted his man to cum all over his pretty face – Charlie was sure of that. And he knew that three or four doses of anal sex were the minimum daily requirement for the two of them.

Then he looked at Monica. Men would crawl across broken glass to slide their cocks between her boobs, Charlie knew that. If she let them. Good assets – stingy distribution.

No contest.

"Thanks for everything, Monica, but I'm out." And Charlie got up and left the restaurant, a stunned Monica and his old life.

Two – The star of Charlie's new life

On the long walk home (they had driven to the restaurant in Monica's car), Charlie decided on something else entirely. He decided to act on an impulse that had been prodding him (and he had been ignoring) for over a year.

Charlie passed his house and, drawing a deep breath, rang his next-door neighbors' doorbell. Half-hoping that no one was home. The other half desperately counting on a response.

The door opened and Charlie saw Gina Moistbum, his next-door neighbor for the past five years. A nice, sweet, 35-year-old mother of three, most notably her eldest, 11-year-old Trevor Moistbum. Who was the object of Charlie's full attention at that moment in the space-time continuum.

Gina looked at Charlie with curiosity, which evolved into a small smile. She said, "Hi, Charlie. I thought you were going to dinner with your fiancée tonight."

Charlie gulped and leapt. "That's over, Gina," he said. "I realized a few things about myself. Important things. I was wondering 3; [gulp] 3; is Trevor home?"

Gina looked at Charlie with great interest. For a terrifying moment, Charlie thought she was going to scream and call the police.

But then she smiled warmly and said, "At last, you've come to your senses. Come on in, Charlie."

[Whew]

What did Gina mean, come to his senses?

Charlie soon found out.

Charlie entered the house and noticed that Gina's younger children, Molly, 7, and Kevin, 5, were watching TV in the family room. But Trevor wasn't around.

Gina offered Charlie a seat and he took it.

She spoke first. "I presume you're here because you realized that a nagging, manipulating emasculator like Monica wasn't for you. And you want to start dating our sweet, innocent, beautiful, 11-year-old Trevor. Is that right?"

It was exactly right, but it sounded odd, said out loud. Charlie nodded sheepishly in response.

Gina studied him for a moment, then said, "Well, that's the best news we've had around here in a long time, Charlie. Trevor will be thrilled. He's been in love with you since he was nine. He's even kept himself a virgin, hoping that you would be his first. I told him not to get his hopes up, but here you are."

Charlie's heart leapt. Trevor loved him! And always had!??!!?

The first pang Charlie felt was love, followed by a sharper pang of regret that he had wasted two years he could have had with Trevor on that Monica she-demon. But then it was back to love.

"Is 3; is Charlie here, Gina? Now, I mean."

Gina was enjoying Charlie's anxiety. Small payback though it was for keeping her son waiting for the cock he needed all this time. Then she said, "Charlie's here. The poor boy needs 'relief' three or four times a day, so whenever Charlie needs to 'empty', his Daddy skins his little peeny knob till he spurts. No fucking or sucking. Those activities Trevor wanted to save for you. They're having a little 'squeal and squirt' session right now in Trevor's room. Want to see?"

Charlie's ears were burning from sexual excitement. He was going to see the love of his life naked. Being wanked – clinically more than erotically – by his Daddy. Then what?

Oh.

Charlie followed Gina up the stairs to Trevor's room. Gina entered without knocking and Charlie followed closely behind.

It was a startling sight!

Several of them, actually.

First, Charlie was struck by the sight of his own picture displayed all around the room. Candid shots taken, presumably by Trevor, of Charlie working in his backyard, with his shirt off. Or just standing on his porch. Many pictures were blown up to poster size and mounted over most of the walls.

Then Charlie was struck by the raw beauty and eroticism of the naked Trevor. Who was lying on his back, naked, except for a pair of skimpy, white, silk, bikini panties hooked around his left ankle.

Trevor's eyes were closed, so he didn't see his Mom or Charlie enter the room. But Charlie saw Trevor.

The boy was an angel fallen to earth. A slim, pink body complemented Trevor's gorgeous face, which was scrunched up cutely, in eager anticipation of impending orgasm. The boy's large, brown, puffy nipples were erect and almost begging to be kissed. The head of his tiny, 3.2-inch [8.1 cm] penis was exposed by his Daddy's loving, manual attentions and was drooling juices that would satisfy any man's thirst.

Jack, Trevor's Daddy, saw Gina and Charlie enter the room, but didn't react, other than to feel happy for his son. He knew that Trevor was near his 'boy's time', so to finish him off, Daddy rubbed the pad of his left, middle finger across his son's anus ring as he wanked him.

That did it.

Trevor cried out, "Oh, Mr. Bohner! I love you!" Then spurted five creamy ropes of boy's cream all over his flat, silken tummy.

Charlie Bohner's bad day was getting a lot better.

And so was Trevor's.

The boy's well-nippled chest was heaving with the aftershocks of his orgasm as his pretty eyes fluttered open.

Was he dreaming?

Was that really 3;?

Oh.

Rather than scream with shock or faint from humiliation at the lewd show which he realized he had just performed, Trevor merely smiled and said, "I knew you would come to me some day, Mr. Bohner. Is today the day?"

It was.

And Charlie said so. "I've been such an idiot, Trevor. Messing around with that ungrateful, though very large-chested, Monica. But that's over. Can you forgive me for making you suffer?"

Trevor's eyes filled with happy tears and he opened his arms in submissive invitation. Which Charlie eagerly accepted after the obligatory, momentary hesitation, during which he briefly considered the loss of his full heterosexuality. Very briefly, since something way better was panting and gasping for him.

Charlie leaned over and, in an impulse of passion that startled them both, scooped up a liberal portion of the sweet boy's cream that had formed a lake surrounding Trevor's belly button, then lovingly applied that nutritious treat to Trevor's lips before he kissed the boy.

Charlie's first boy.

Trevor's first man.

Kissing with four wet, cum-filled lips. Then tongues.

It was Charlie's first taste of 'puerile pleasure pudding' and he found it indescribably delicious.

If people actually 'swoon', Trevor swooned as he and his dream man shared a deep, cummy kiss.

The boy's little peeny was all stiff and needy again as Charlie laid his hand on it. The first cock, other than his own, that Charlie had touched.

All of Charlie's apprehensions about being 'gay' disappeared as he dipped into the boy's little cum lake with two fingers and rubbed the creamy goodness all over Trevor's stiffie and dangly treasures.

Kissing.

Fondling.

Oh my!

Trevor was so deeply appreciative of every millisecond – every touch. Giving himself – obviously and completely – to the man he loved.

Which thrilled the man.

Charlie was in charge of the lovemaking – truly in charge – for the first time in his life. He would know for sure if he made his lover cum – for the first time in his life. And he knew that his lover wouldn't nag, manipulate or emasculate him when it was all over – for the first time in his life.

It was magnificent.

And yet 3;

Being in charge meant 3; he was 3; in charge. Of the agenda. What was next? Should he suck Trevor's cock? Have the boy suck his cock 3; and SWALLOW?!?!?! Should he eat out the boy's virgin asshole and then FUCK him?

Yes to all of it!!!!

But not here.

All those pictures of himself on the walls were creeping Charlie out. Plus 3; Trevor's Mom and Daddy were cool, but still 3; you know.

So.

Charlie stood, gathered the naked Trevor into his arms, kissed him deeply and tonguily and said, "We're going to my house and make love all night."

Tears came to Trevor's eyes and he nodded once.

He was going to be fucked. At last. By the man of his cummiest dreams. Though he was hoping for a little more 'slap and tickle' than just 'all night'. All weekend, at least.

Trevor was pretty sure that once Mr. Bohner got a taste of Trevor's pussy, the boy might be missing school on Monday too.

Charlie carried the happily squealing boy out of the bedroom, where he half-expected to see the boy's parents.

Not there.

They walked down the stairs, Trevor's tiny panties were still dangling around his left ankle. A nice look for him.

Charlie figured he should at least notify the boy's parents that they would be next door ridding the boy of his troublesome virginity, so he looked around 3;

There they were. On the couch. Gina's skirt was up, her panties were off and she was squealing and cumming as Trevor's Daddy rubbed her clittie and kissed her.

It was extremely heartening to for Charlie to see that in America, some people still had solid family values.

Best not to disturb Jack and Gina. So man and boy slipped out the front door and turned left toward Charlie's house next door.

And would have gotten there unnoticed if Mr. Geezer hadn't been walking his dog.

The sight of Charlie carrying a naked Trevor made Mr. Geezer (and Sparky) stop and take notice.

Would the old gent run home and call the police??? The FBI?? Interpol??

Not exactly.

"Hi, guys," Mr. Geezer said. "I was wondering when you two would get together. If you didn't do something soon, I was going to fuck Trevor myself. Have fun."

Man and dog walked off. Both giggling naughtily.

Charlie asked himself, "Am I the only one in the neighborhood who doesn't 'get it?'"

Apparently so. Though the one 'getting it' that night would be Trevor,

The pretty boy's anus was twitching at the thought of how it would feel to be fucked. It was going to be awesome, he was sure of that!

Since he wouldn't be a virgin after tonight, Trevor mused, maybe some day next week he would let that nice Mr. Geezer have a 'sweet treat' or two.

Charlie took the stairs two at a time, laid Trevor carefully onto his king-sized bed, then rapidly undressed.

It was way cool when the boy gasped audibly at the sight of the naked Charlie. And his fat, eight-inch [20 cm], sissyboy-pleaser.

Charlie lay next to Trevor on the bed and the lovers took some time to get acquainted with each other's beautiful bodies.

Touching. Gasping. Exploring. Panting. Rubbing.

Charlie lay on his back as Trevor gave his fat cock a proper examination.

Trevor's pretty eyes sparkled as he looked at his imminent impaler. It was beautiful! So thick and hot and hard.

No woman would appreciate that cock the way Trevor would. He was sure of that.

Trevor ran his soft fingers all along the long, prominent, blue vein that ran along the left side of the shaft.

He giggled when Mr. Bohner moaned appreciatively.

He would have to suck it. To a creamy conclusion. Right away. And that was that.

The man needed relief. And Trevor wanted to give his man a vivid preview of the paradise he would inhabit with Trevor.

Trevor skinned Mr. Bohner's knob completely.

So much drooly stuff was leaking out. The man was fatally excited! Because of little old Trevor.

Oh dear. The knob was turning so red that it was almost purple. The way Daddy's did when 3;

Trevor blushed when he thought of Daddy. Mom didn't know about Trevor sucking Daddy's prick. He didn't mean to. It just happened. Like 20 times or so.

The classic, 21st-Century excuse. "I didn't mean to climb into that tower and shoot 27 people, your honor. It just happened."

One day, just two months earlier, Daddy was 'milking' Trevor, as a medical necessity. Mom was grocery shopping with the two younger kids. And, though Trevor had taken a blood vow to let Mr. Bohner and only Mr. Bohner take his virginity, cocksucking didn't count, right?

And poor Daddy was so stiff and needy. Which Trevor could see right through Daddy's khakis.

Trevor's curiosity and Daddy's 'condition' collided.

Then it just happened. Daddy was standing, with his pants at his ankles and Trevor was on his knees with a mouthful of hot cock.

Daddy spunked really quickly. And copiously.

So quickly that they had time for it to 'just happen' again before Mom got home.

And so copiously that Trevor almost choked. But he swallowed it all bravely. And loved everything about cocksucking.

Daddy was the appetizer, Trevor reasoned. Mr. Bohner was the main course.

Trevor's entrée was served. Hot and ready.

Trevor knelt next to the reclining Mr. Bohner (proper sissyboy cocksucking is always performed on the knees!) and began to adore his big prize with soft, moist kisses.

Charlie was ecstatic. Monica hadn't sucked him off in weeks. And when she had, it was a perfunctory procedure. Monica's eyes kept saying, "Is it over yet?" and she would frequently complain about her jaw getting tired, so "please get it over with."

Cumming ain't fun if it's under the gun.

Trevor would suck Charlie off all day if that was what his man wanted. They both knew that.

And Trevor, who claimed to have no experience, was already a superior cocksucker to Monica.

The boy knew where the good spots were and he licked them. The sensitive 'arrow-point' on the underside. The pouting peelips. Various 'groan spots' on the knob. And he cuddled Charlie's hairy balls as if they were indeed the crown jewels.

Trevor loved the 'taste of man'. And he loved the power he felt as he gave his man pleasure.

Oh dear.

The man's little twitches and grunts told Trevor that the 'sissyboy's big reward' was imminent.

And it would be a gusher!

Trevor backed off a smidge at just the right moment, taking two thick, creamy ropes full in the face, then capping the knob to swallow the entirety of the last four spunk-spurts. As the boy gasped and gobbled, he milked Charlie's balls for the last, nutritious drops.

Perfectly done.

And most pleasing to the blowjob-for-the ages' recipient.

Charlie Bohner's upper skull had separated from his body.

He had never had an orgasm half as good in his life.

And it was only page one of a beautiful love story.

Page two was a tasty one.

Beginning with some cummy kissing – something Monica never permitted. Mostly because she would run to the bathroom to 'wash off the icky' whenever Charlie spurted anywhere on her person.

Then it got tastier.

Regaining the initiative, Charlie 'ordered' Trevor to straddle Charlie's shoulders, face the man's feet, and sit on his manly face.

Which introduced them both to analingus.

A very friendly act. And right up there on the intimacy scale.

Trevor squealed with fierce lust as Mr. Bohner's tongue explored his pooper.

His man loved him. No doubt. You don't tongue the anus of someone you don't love.

Again, Charlie enjoyed Trevor's enjoyment.

Making your lover happy is as much fun as being made happy.

Then Trevor gave Charlie a vivid illustration of his happiness. In five creamy spurts and a squeal of helpless lust.

All over Charlie's hairy chest.

Which would have produced an encore erection in a dead man.

Charlie and his erection were very much alive.

And ready to fuck.

Trevor dismounted from Charlie's chest and lay on his back. Batting his pretty eyes at Charlie, the boy lifted his knees up to his ears. Offering the sweetest treat in the world to a rampant boylover.

Lovingly, Charlie slid two fingers into Trevor's wet, but still tight hole.

The boy gasped. Then writhed and squealed when Charlie found his 'boy's place' and began to rub it mercilessly.

Daddy had never done that.

It was agonizingly exquisite.

Was such pleasure possible?

The boy's little tickler didn't get hard, but he had a whopper of an orgasm. Drooling out a few thin drops of semen as he whimpered and shuddered through his first prostate-centric orgasm.

Page three awaited.

Through the haze of killer orgasm, Trevor felt Mr. Bohner slide a pillow under his hips, then lift his thin calves onto the man's strong shoulders.

Trevor knew his time had come. It was said to be painful. But the boy would endure it or die trying.

There was no dying involved.

But a bit of pain.

Just a bit.

Charlie was gentle but relentless. Pushing through the boy's squirming discomfort and tears until he felt his balls resting on Trevor's bottomcheeks.

In.

All in.

Paradise.

For Charlie at least.

The jury was still out for Trevor.

And then it was OK.

The pain dissipated. And pleasure reared its gorgeous head.

Charlie pulled back, then thrust forward. Clipping Trevor's prostate in a very pleasing manner.

More of the same followed.

Every thrust reached a new plateau of bliss for them both.

Charlie learned what love was – a partner who loved fucking with you.

Trevor learned what being loved was.

Trevor's guts were on fire as his prostate was deliciously tormented. When his second prostate orgasm happened, Trevor wasn't sure he would survive it.

He actually felt his toes explode.

Trevor's orgasmic contractions on the man's delighted prick threw Charlie off the skyscraper roof. He convulsed in creamy ecstasy. Pumping his manliness into the boy's cum-hungry 'pussy'.

Lying there, semi-exhausted, side by side after a reluctant dismount, Charlie managed to say what he had to say 3;

"I love you, Trevor!"

"I love you, Mr. Bohner, the boy said as he lay next to his dream man, his stretched, sore anus leaking sperm and semen.

Two more satisfied disciples of the Try Boys movement.

Try Boys – Eight

Rob Needlove and Jonathan (12yo)

One – Locker Room Chatter

Ralph whooped loudly and punched Mark on the arm. "You fucked Paulie? No way!"

"Yes, way," Mark chuckled back at his friend. "And he was the sweetest, tightest piece of ass in the universe."

"Hah!" Ralph said. "If he wasn't my nephew, I would have fucked him a year ago, when he was nine years old. I'm OK with incest, but his mother, my sister, would have cut my balls clean off."

"Yeah," Mark replied. "It was my bad luck that the three cutest sissyboys on earth happen to be my sons and my wife happens to be handy with a gun. Lucky you, since you've been fucking all three of them since they were ten years old."

"Ain't life grand?" Ralph said, and both men laughed.

The conversation might have sounded odd to some, if one heard it out of context. The context made it even odder.

The men conversed in the locker room of their health club. They were each wearing only a towel, which in each case was tented by their huge, thick erections, apparently engendered by the subject matter.

But the most contextually odd thing was the witness to the conversation.

Rob Needlove.

Rob knew both Mark and Ralph. Had played racketball with Mark and lifted weights with Ralph.

He had no idea that they were ardent, active boyfuckers.

But the real shocker was that they would talk about boyfucking so openly! In a public place!

Sure, boyfucking had gone mainstream, with the success of the worldwide Try Boys movement. But there was still some small measure of shame and guilt associated with it, wasn't there?

Apparently not.

Mark told Ralph, "Your nephew Paulie played hard to get, but then he got it hard. What an ass that boy has. And when I got this huge manmeat into him, he squealed and squirted all night."

Good gravy! Rob gasped when Mark pulled down his towel and showed the world his gargantuan cock. Rob wondered how that Paulie boy was still alive.

Mark explained. "It took a while, but I ate him out really well – for almost an hour and through two of his heaving spunks. Then I got in there with my fingers and some Spermbutt anal lubricant – dilating and slicking his bumhole up the way you're supposed to. Toying with his prostate made him cum twice more, so by the time I was ready to fuck him, Paulie was exhausted. But his bumhole was as ready as any boy's has ever been. I eased my cock in nice and slow, listening to those sweet whimpers that a boy uses to say, 'So good. Give me more!' So I did. All of it. And Paulie took it like a boy who needed fucking or he'd die."

Rob didn't want to stare, but he couldn't help but notice that Ralph had also dropped his towel and that both men were stroking their cocks during Mark's spicy story. Then they began to stroke each other's cocks!

Had the whole world gone mad?

Rob had never fucked a boy. Or even kissed one. He'd married a woman. And had fucked only women.

The marriage had failed and so had most of the fucking. But he would never lower himself to act like Mark and Ralph.

Boys were NOT for Rob.

And neither was that gay, pederastic conversation. Rob dressed hurriedly and left just as Mark and Ralph began to spunk all over each other.

Disgusting!

Two – The Pure Life

He tried to pretend the world hadn't changed. You can pretend there's no law of gravity too. But if you fall out a window, you'll hit the ground.

The same day that Rob had witnessed that disgusting scene in the locker room, he left town on a business trip. And checked into a hotel.

Not a sleazebag, pay-by-the-hour hotel. A four-star Shilton Hotel.

But things had changed since Rob's last business trip three months earlier. The Shilton had adapted to changing times.

Rob presented his credit card to the desk clerk, who recognized Rob from previous visits. "Good to see you again, Mr. Needlove. Welcome back, sir. We've made some upgrades since your last visit. I hope you'll find them agreeable."

Upgrades?

A bigger mini-bar?

The clerk continued. "You'll see the upgrades in your room, sir. And as a Titanium Club Rewards member, you're entitled to our 'gentleman's mixer' in our Athens Room beginning a 6 p.m."

Mixer? As in 'mixed drinks'?

How odd.

Rob entered his room and threw down his bags. Upgrades? The room looked the same. He had to pee, so he went into the bathroom and took care of business. Washing his hands, he looked at the mini-bottles of shampoo, conditioner and wank-juice (sometimes known as 'hand lotion').

Wait.

What was that big bottle? Sixteen ounces of something called 'Spermbutt anal lubricant'!

What was that for? Did they think guests would be having anal sex in the rooms?

A thought flashed through Rob's mind. A prurient thought. About Cindy. His huge-titted neighbor in the condo above his own. Cindy was a spectacularly beautiful, 33-year-old single mom. She worked nights and the rumor was that she was an 'exotic dancer'.

Rob would love to have anal sex with Cindy. Or any kind of sex with her. But she seemed to have no interest in Rob.

Maybe Rob would be needing that wank-juice after all.

Maybe the last guest in the room had enjoyed anal sex with his wife and forgot his bottle of Spermbutt. Should he complain to the front desk about Housekeeping's poor work? Maybe later.

He wanted to unpack first and then 3;

Whoa.

What was that on the desk top?

Three magazines. They couldn't be. They were!

Sissy Boy magazine!

In his Shilton Hotel room. Placed by the management. Along with Spermbutt. As if Rob wanted to 3; Was planning to have sex with a boy!!!

In the midst of that disgusting filth, Rob saw something even more disgusting. A brochure about the 'gentleman's mixer'. With a code to enter on his room television.

What happened to the nice, dull hetero world he grew up in?

The brochure said that the TV would show Rob what was going on in the Athens Room, as well as a description of each boy who would be there that night to 'meet and enjoy' the Titanium Club Rewards members.

Was no place safe from this madness?

Rob spent a traditional night in his hotel. He watched sports. More sports. Then lubed up his cock, conjured up a good fantasy about Cindy, spunked and went to sleep.

Remaining pure in a world of gay, pedophilic perversion.

Three – Purity Loses

As if to punctuate that notion, as Rob was looking in his pocket for his house key, Cindy from upstairs appeared.

"Hi, Rob," the font of his fantasies purred.

Rob choked out a "Hi, Cindy" in response. Would this be Rob's lucky night?

Yes. But not with Cindy.

"Rob, I only have a few minutes. Have to get to work. But could I come on for a moment?"

Cindy. Inside his condo? Excellent.

Cindy sat, showing a lot of leg. And boob.

"I like you, Rob," Cindy said. Rob's cock twitched. That was the high point in the non-starter of a Rob-Cindy relationship.

"But 3;"

Rob's cock drooped. 'But' is the cruelest word in English.

"But, Rob, I have a boyfriend. I love him. And there's a better reason why you and I can never be."

This conversation was as pleasant as the ones where the woman begins with, "Do you know what your problem is?"

Cindy continued. "My son Jonathan is in love with you."

Things were getting worse and worse.

Rob had no idea that Jonathan had a crush on him. The boy was a 12-year-old cutie. As pretty as his mother – maybe prettier. And he did seem to hang around Rob sometimes when his mother was working.

What did it mean exactly that Jonathan was 'in love' with Rob?

Cindy saw Rob's puzzlement. He really was as thickheaded and regressive as he seemed.

But quite good-looking. And Jonathan loved him.

So she continued. "Jonathan is a beautiful sissyboy, already a virgin two years longer than he should have been. He needs a man's cock in his asshole. A real man's cock. He could have his pick of any man in town. But he wants you to be the one who performs the 'grand opening'. He thinks that not only would you be his first man, he would be your first boy. Is he right?"

What a cheeky question.

But a good one and it deserved an answer.

"I don't think boys and men should 3;"

Cindy interrupted. "Doesn't the idea of fucking Jonathan make your cock hard, Rob? Think about it a moment. He's very beautiful. He has a plump, pink, hospitable ass. He would love you and submit to you completely. Do anything you want. Suck your cock and lick your balls until you're nearly blind with lust. Then he would drain your balls over and over until you were exhausted in the best possible way.

"Oh, I see the idea does excite you."

It was true. Rob's cock had betrayed him.

It was as hard as differential calculus.

"Well," Cindy said, "it's up to you. In about 15 minutes, Jonathan will be bringing you some cookies I baked for you. I won't be home until 2 a.m., but keep him all night if you want to."

Rob was trembling all over. He barely noticed when Cindy left.

Well.

Now what?

He couldn't do 'those things' with Jonathan. Even though the boy's mother had just given Rob the greenest of green lights. Even though every other man on the planet seemed to have succumbed to the Try Boys movement's slogan about women nagging, manipulating and emasculating men – so men should try boys instead. Even though Jonathan was indeed as beautiful and sexy as his mother. Even though Jonathan allegedly ached for Rob's cock in that beautiful, perfect, young, virginal butt of his. And even though Rob hadn't had an orgasm with a woman in nearly 18 months – and had never had anal sex with anyone.

Wait a minute.

Wasn't that list of 'even thoughs' a pretty good list of "Why Rob should fuck Jonathan?"

Maybe.

But Rob hadn't been nagged, manipulated or emasculated by women.

Lately.

Because he'd been avoiding women.

Except for his fantasies of Cindy. And the big-breasted bimbos in Huge Jugs magazine and other fine periodicals of that nature.

Oh no.

There was a knock on his door.

Jonathan!

Should he hide? Or be a man?

He answered the door to Jonathan and the evils of temptation.

And an exquisite temptation it was.

The boy, who always looked good, had fluffed out or something his naturally curly, blond hair that evening. He was wearing the skimpiest of short shorts and a tank top that displayed his creamy shoulders. His flip flops showed off his pretty toes.

And best of all, he was carrying a tray of Cindy's oatmeal raisin cookies.

Well. Maybe not 'best of all'. But Cindy produced great cookies. And a very sexy boy.

Did he just think of Jonathan as 'sexy?'

Another slide down that slippery slope.

Some action or acknowledgement was required, so Rob said, "Hi, Jonathan."

Holding his ground. Not sliding.

A warm, make that 'hot', smile from Jonathan, then, "My Mom baked these cookies for you, Mr. Needlove."

Not sliding. "Thanks, Jonathan." Holding ground.

[pause]

"Well, OK then, Mr. Needlove. Have a nice evening," Jonathan said, somewhat dejectedly.

Rob bit his lip and told himself to be strong. Good gravy, though, the boy was exquisitely beautiful. And clearly wanted to be fucked.

Jonathan turned to go. Showing Rob a short-shorts-covered view of the ass that was Rob's for the asking. Plump and ready. And the shorts were so short that a good inch of ass cheeks was exposed on either side.

Jonathan took a step to leave.

"Wait!!!" Rob blurted out.

Jonathan turned around expectantly. Why did his eyes have to be so blue and beautiful? And his lashes so long?

"Would you like to have some cookies and milk with me? I mean, there are plenty. Unless you're full from dinner. Or need to do your homework or something."

Rob winced at the notion that he had given Jonathan two ready-made excuses. He wanted the boy to come into his condo. And share cookies. And sperm.

Would Jonathan send Rob down the slippery slope?

Oh yes.

"My Mom made me a really good dinner before she went to work, like she always does. I've already done my homework. And I love cookies." [And you, Mr. Needlove]

Rob gulped. Jonathan stepped into Rob's flat for the first time. Was the die cast?

Rob felt himself sliding, but was beginning to surrender to the ride. He was about to try boys. One boy at least.

If he didn't faint first.

Rob had never been that nervous with a potential sex partner before.

Jonathan noticed. He was going to have to do something to make this go a little more easily. "The Blue Sox are playing tonight. It's on now. Can we watch the game while we have the cookies and milk?"

Good idea, Rob thought. "Sure, Jonathan. Just put the cookies on the coffee table by the TV. I'll get the milk."

Rob went to his refrigerator to get the milk, glancing back at Jonathan, who was bending over to put the cookies on the coffee table. Pointing his spectacular ass right at Rob. Showing even more of those pink, pretty cheeks.

Rob felt a film of cold sweat on his upper lip. He poured the milk and brought both glasses to the sofa, where Jonathan was already sitting and had turned on the baseball game.

Where should he sit? The Lazy Boy recliner or the sofa. Next to Jonathan.

Logic said the Lazy Boy. Logic got its ass kicked.

He sat next to Jonathan. Eating cookies, drinking milk and watching the game in companionable silence. Until the cookies were done.

At which time, Jonathan cuddled.

Cuddled!!!!

He moved up against Rob and placed his head on Rob's right shoulder. And his left hand on Rob's right thigh.

Cuddling!!!!

The moment had arrived. Send Jonathan home or fuck him.

Rob chose wisely.

He turned his head to make eye contact with Jonathan and saw adoration.

How many times in a man's life does he see that?

And how stupid would it be to throw that away?

Rob kissed Jonathan. On the lips. Fully. Deeply.

Trying boys. And liking it.

The little creampuff gasped for air as he surrendered to his dream man's kisses. The man was a bit naïve about the way the world really worked, but the boy was willing to overlook that. Depending on his abilities as a boyfucker.

But first things first.

The kiss.

Sweet.

Cleansing.

Ridding the man of a lifetime of false notions and the boy of a lifetime of concealed sexuality.

Rob reluctantly broke the kiss long enough to unbutton the boy's short shorts and reveal a nicely tented pair of 3; were they? 3; oh my!

Panties.

The boy was wearing panties!

Did sissyboys wear panties? Little, yellow, silky, 'pouch' panties?

As noted, the man was a bit ignorant of life's finer things.

The panties had the cutest little wet stain where the boy's peehole was.

He was leaking for Rob!

Rob liked that.

He needed to see the boy's pricklet. And his pretty bag.

So Rob, with Jonathan's eager assistance, removed the boy's shorts and panties. Leaving the young beauty naked from the waist down. Completely exposed to the savage lust of a beastly, older man. Who was gazing upon three of the most beautiful objects on earth.

Jonathan's painfully stiff, four-and-a-half-inch [11 cm] 'sissy pole' and his two throbbing, boy's-cream-manufacturing testicles in their pink, wrinkled, hairless bag.

Rob decided to fully join what promised to be the greatest party of his life. He unbuttoned and removed his own trousers and boxers. Then glowed with pride at the gasps Jonathan emitted when the boy saw Rob's fat, stiff, 7.23-inch [18.4 cm] throbber.

The lovers both liked what they saw.

For ten glorious minutes, they kissed and nuzzled. Feeling each other's exposed parts. Exploring. Exciting each other beyond all measure.

Jonathan was the more impatient.

He slid to the floor, onto his knees, in front of his man, and skinned Rob's prickhead. Exposing the purple, furiously leaking knob.

With a smile and a batting of his eyes at Rob, Jonathan applied his first kiss to a man's cock.

Right on the peehole. Then withdrew his lips, taking a long strand of pre-cum with him.

Mmmm.

That pretty sight nearly made Rob spunk, right there.

But he hung in there. Throughout a second prick kiss. Then a third. Followed by a series of long, thrilling licks along the entirety of Rob's tortured knob.

Jonathan was having the time of his life. Realizing his long-time dream.

And Rob was having an excellent time too. Though he was fighting a brave, but losing battle to hold back his spunkiness.

Jonathan was licking away, intent on getting the 'sissyboy's big reward'. In his stomach and all over his face.

So, much as he had eventually surrendered to the powerful, inevitable notion of 'Try Boys', Rob surrendered to his powerful, inevitable orgasm.

As Victor Hugo said, "Greater than the tread of mighty armies is an idea whose time has come."

Whether it be 'Try Boys'. Or showering the prettiest boy Rob had ever seen with a faceful of hot sperm.

And having the boy not only giggle throughout the spermstorm with undisguised glee, but gently squeeze and milk Rob's hairy balls to extract every creamy drop of man.

Rob's balls were fully, delightfully drained. For the first time in many years.

Time for a nap?

Not bloody likely.

Rob had lots of very pleasant work to do.

Beginning with taking both his and the delightful, loving boy's clothes off.

They were both naked and eager to do the things naked men do with naked boys.

Rob scooped up his gorgeous, cummy-faced loverboy and carried him into his bedroom.

The loving couple lay on Rob's bed. Despite the boy's cum-drenched face, Rob kissed Jonathan hungrily. And stroked the boy's painfully excited cock. Skinning it. Getting the boy 'close'. Very close.

Then inspiration struck.

Didn't that Neanderthal Mark, talking about that 10-year-old Paulie boy in the locker room say something about "I ate him out really well – for almost an hour and through two of his heaving spunks?"

It sounded disgusting at the time.

At that moment, it seemed like sheer brilliance.

Rob needed 'recharge time'. And he needed to 'get to know' Jonathan better.

What better icebreaker than analingus?

Lots of it.

Jonathan had no idea that such activities existed on this planet.

He was much more comfortable with being an earthling after what Rob did that evening.

Rob lay on his back. At Rob's request, Jonathan straddled Rob's shoulders, facing Rob's feet.

"Just lower your bottom onto my face. Don't put all your weight onto me. Just rub your bottomhole against me, OK?"

Jonathan squeaked out an "OK," then entered a new realm of pleasure.

The boy was stunned when Rob's tongue entered him!

It was such an intimate, giving act. From a man who had never before accepted his need for intimacy with boys.

Jonathan spurted his boy's cream 40 seconds after Rob's tongue 'violated' his anus. And again 35 minutes after that.

At which point, Rob was stiff and ready and Jonathan was wet and ready.

Jonathan squealed with delight when Rob semi-roughly threw him onto his back, slid three pillows under his hips and threw the boy's calves onto Rob's shoulders.

It was fucking time.

Rob was in full heat. Snorting fire. Ready to plunge.

Jonathan knew his time had come. He knew it would be painful. But pleasant too. He hoped that Rob would get on with it.

After all, Jonathan had been waiting for that moment for two years. And he'd turned down six men and 15 boys who had made a 'similar offer' for the boy's virginity

Rob and Jonathan did the dirty deed.

Painfully at first. Then passionately.

Lovers melding in a festival of fucking.

All because Rob Needlove finally decided to try boys.

Smart man.

Lucky boy.

Try Boys – Nine

Justin Cockthrob and Alex Needcock (10yo)

One – Sic transit gloria Justin

As Justin approached his 30th birthday, it had become apparent to him and his legion of admirers that the major thing for which the handsome young man was famous was the fact that he was famous.

Sort of a male Paris Hilton.

And how much have we heard about her lately?

Justin's 'career' needed a boost.

A big boost.

Perhaps a second album. Another concert tour.

Though the so-called critics in the 'lamestream' media had compared his singing to cats in the agony of eternal damnation.

What did they know?

His fans loved him. The ones who were still his fans.

He knew he still had fans because he still got fan mail. Lots of it.

In fact, as this story opens, he was sitting in his bedroom, contemplating a pile of the fan mail he loved most.

Panty mail.

Sweet, used panties. Mailed to him by his most ardent admirers, then carefully screened and x-rayed (for explosives) by his loyal entourage.

Many of Justin's sexual encounters began with his response to his panty mail.

Encounters, not love affairs. Which was all Justin seemed to have those days. Whenever he struck up a relationship with a woman, by the third date, she was persistently attempting to nag, manipulate and emasculate Justin.

The women didn't seem to be able to help themselves 3; like the scorpion stinging the frog who was saving the scorpion from drowning. It was in their nature.

Which was why Corey, Justin's oldest friend and the entourage's 'chief of staff', decided to change the nature of that day's panty mail.

"I think you should look at this piece of mail first, Justin," Corey said. "It could change your luck."

Justin was puzzled and curious as Corey left. He looked at the yellow envelope and saw it was from an 'A. Needcock' in a neighboring state.

Cool surname.

But how would that young lady's panties change Justin's luck?

Justin opened the package and saw what he believed was 'the usual'.

Three pairs of worn, pussy-scented panties in sealed, plastic baggies. A handwritten, heartfelt letter. And a DVD of the young lady's 'assets'.

Ho-hum.

But wait.

The panties!

The stains!

Was that – sperm? On the panties?

Huh?

Wait.

An envelope with photos of the panty-wearer.

Justin opened it and saw 3;

A naked boy. On his back. Looking into the camera with the most beautiful blue eyes Justin had ever seen.

His little prick had just shot three or four thick ropes of boy sperm onto his pretty tummy and a tiny lake of semen had formed around 'A Needcock's' tasty, little belly button.

Justin looked into the boy's eyes again. How long were those lashes anyway? And wasn't it illegal for a boy (or anyone) to be that fucking beautiful?

Justin was definitely NOT gay! But no one had notified his cock of that fact. It was rampant with lust for A. Needcock.

Justin looked at the second photo. The boy, who looked to be about 10 or 11-years-old, had used two pretty fingers to scoop up some of that sweet honey from his belly and was licking it from his fingertips as he looked into the camera – thus into Justin's eyes.

Justin groaned involuntarily. And opened one of the panty packages.

Oh my.

It was a pair of lacy, pink teasers. Cut briefly in the back to expose its wearer's pretty cheeks. But not quite a thong.

The front of the panties had suffered a severe sperm attack. From the inside. The boy's sweetness had dried, but much of the odor was still there. As Justin verified when he gave the panty crotch a deep, prolonged sniff.

Wait.

Time out!

This was all horribly gay.

And Justin was NOT gay.

So why was his cock outrageous?

The letter. He would read the boy's letter. That would calm him down.

It said:

Dear Mr. Cockthrob,

My name is Alex. I'm ten years and four months old and I live in xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx.

Ever since I was a little kid, I've been in love with you.

I hope you'll look at the video Daddy helped me make for you. I think you'll like what you see and you'll say to yourself, I'm tired of the nagging, the manipulation and the emasculation. I'm going to 'try boys'.

Well, one boy, anyway. Alex Needcock. Ha ha,

My phone number is xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx. I hope to hear from you soon.

Love,
Alex.

He couldn't.

It was wrong.

But that 'Try Boys' thing. Wasn't that very 'in' right now?

And wasn't Justin Cockthrob the Prince of In?

He should at least look at the video.

So he slid it into the DVD and lay back on his bed. Pulling down his pants, allowing his fat cock to breathe free air. In case it was a really good video.

It was.

While not professionally done, it was certainly in the upper range of YouTube stuff. And it had a voiceover with Alex's sweet voice overpowering any ant-gay reluctance from Justin and Justin's cock,

The title frame said, "I love Justin Cockthrob."

Alex's voiceover said, "My name is Alex Needcock and I've been saving myself for the man I love, Mr. Justin Cockthrob."

Visual: Alex enters a boyish bedroom and strips to the pink panties that Justin had sniffed earlier.

Voiceover: "It isn't easy staying a virgin. So many men want me. Even my Daddy wants me. [Giggle] But I always tell them that I'm YOURS."

Visual: Alex shows the camera his stiff, throbbing, dripping, 3.7-inch [9.4 cm] cock. A tasty pearl of boy juice oozes from Alex's kissable peelips.

Voiceover: A boy has needs, Mr. Cockthrob. And I need you inside me. Taking my virginity. Thinking about you makes me hard and needy. And when I touch myself 3; Oh! Oh!

Visual: Alex's cock is putting on a 4th-of-July-worthy cum-fireworks display. Thick, creamy strands flying straight up as the boy's face contorts into a mask of erotic agony.

Against his better judgment, Justin began to stroke his cock. Dreaming dreams he'd never dared to dream before.

When Alex got onto all fours and showed the camera/Justin his perfect, boyish pussy, Justin created his own fireworks display.

And he resolved to enter a better world.

Soon!

Two – Daddy helps Alex

Though he hadn't lied to Mr. Cockthrob about being a virgin, he had sort of 'interacted' with one man. Frequently.

It seems that Alex's Daddy had shown his compassion for his babe-a-licious son by instituting a vigorous program of regular 'milkings'.

"A beautiful boy like you, Alex, could be seriously injured if he allowed all his sperm to just 'sit there' in his testicles all day," Daddy had told a fascinated Alex and his semi-bored Mom.

Mom had raised Alex's three older sisters – a titanic, exhausting task, as anyone who has cohabitated with a teenage girl can attest. She had told her husband that Alex was HIS problem. If he wanted to 'yank the boy's crank' for him, what did she care?

So four or five times a day, Daddy would take Alex into the boy's bedroom, pull Alex's panties down, lube the fingers of his right hand with Slickyboy masturbation oil, and tease the boy's pretty parts until Alex squealed and squirted.

When the sweet routine began four months earlier, whenever Daddy 'teased his tickler', Alex would look at the Justin Cockthrob pictures plastered all over his bedroom wall. Dreaming that his dream man was stimulating his privates. Not Daddy.

But as time moved on, Alex began to develop a great, lust-filled affection for his Daddy. Kissing Daddy thankfully one time after a nice cum. First without tongue. Then with.

Two months into the 'milkings', Alex began to reciprocate in ways beyond kissing. One memorable night, Alex pulled Daddy's zipper down and withdrew the parental penis. Which was standing tall and dribbling large dollops of pre-cum.

Alex's face was covered with blushes as he 'examined' Daddy's stiffie. Pulling back the thick foreskin and revealing the pink, tender knob.

Alex let Daddy's foreskin snap back to cover the fat knob and giggled when Daddy groaned with lust.

Alex reached for the 'Slickyboy' and, mimicking Daddy's loving attentions to Alex's incessant boners, lubed Daddy's burning cock with his soft, tiny hand.

Poor Daddy!

He had been dreaming of 'manual reciprocation' from his beautiful son for so long that when it finally happened, he could scarcely hold the floodgates in place.

Seven times Alex slowly, achingly skinned Daddy's knob then covered it again. Making Daddy's upper lip sweat. And his guts clench until 3;

Oh!

Daddy spunked an ocean of long-denied man's cream. In hot, creamy, thick strands of lust.

Alex gazed in wonder at what he had wrought. Coming to two conclusions.

First, it was fun to 'make men happy'.

And second, it appeared that he had a particular skill at 'making men happy'.

Daddy experienced the ritual guilt that follows a taste of forbidden fruit.

But not enough that he didn't keep milking his son four or five times a day. And receiving full reciprocation each time.

Over the next month, the Daddy-sissyboy milkings became simultaneous. With lots of deep, tonguey kissing.

In the next month, Daddy began exploring Alex's anus with his lubed fingers as they kissed and wanked.

Driving Alex half mad with lust as Daddy gave the boy his first, searing, prostate-induced orgasm.

Bonding the lovers even more closely.

Leading to the inevitable.

Sweet cocksucking.

Done at first only when Alex's Mom was out of the house. But need eventually trumped caution and the lovers were lucky and they were not caught in the lewd, unnatural act.

They were even luckier to have all those magnificent orgasms as their torrid love affair burned hotter and hotter.

So imagine Alex's surprise when Daddy suggested that they make a video and send it and some cummy panties to Mr. Cockthrob.

"Don't you love me any more, Daddy?" Alex asked – hot tears mixed with his Daddy's cum on his pretty face.

"I'll always love you, Darling," Daddy said. "But the way we're going, I'll be fucking your pretty bottom soon and that would be wrong!"

Alex couldn't imagine why having Daddy's cock in his bottom would be somehow worse than Daddy's cock in his mouth. But he loved Daddy and respected him.

Plus, when they made the video and Mr. Cockthrob didn't respond, which Alex figured was 99% likely, Daddy wouldn't be able to resist fucking Alex.

Goody!!

So that day, the day of this story, if you're following along, and only the next day after Justin Cockthrob received the package from Alex, Daddy and Alex were involved in a nice, therapeutic, milking session.

They were both naked and in a hot sixty-nine. Daddy's lubed fingers were deeply into Alex's bottom and he was tormenting his son's prostate as he sucked the sweet, pre-teen's cockhead with skill and ardor.

Both were near their 'crises', oblivious to all else in the solar system. Then, suddenly, two guts wrenched simultaneously and two mouths filled with hot, creamy sperm.

Oddly courteous, Mom, who had entered the room as her husband and son were making homosexual, incestuous love, stood and waited until all four balls were empty.

Then she announced, "You have a visitor downstairs, Alex. An important visitor." And she left.

Daddy was terrorized – convinced that his wife was going to the kitchen for a knife to cut off his 'manliness', then stuff it into his boy's-cream-lined mouth.

But she wasn't.

In truth, she didn't care what men and boys did in order to keep their ballsacks empty. As long as she didn't have to participate. Plus she was neither blind, dumb, nor naïve about what must have been going on during those milking sessions.

Men! Mom could never understand their singlemindedness about evacuating their testicles several times a day. And expecting women to aid and abet that foolishness. Better they helped each other do their filthy deeds.

So she went downstairs to rejoin the visitor. And Alex and Daddy got themselves cleaned up and dressed.

Three – A gentleman caller

She gave him the evil eye – just to amuse herself – and asked, "So, my ten-year-old son sent you some cummy panties and a video and you travelled all the way from California so you could fuck him, is that right?"

It sounded sort of sordid when said that way. Justin considered abandoning ship and going back to his female groupies.

But it was true. He desperately wanted to fuck Alex Needcock. So he endured Mom's withering gaze as he watched to see if she pressed a silent alarm that summoned a SWAT team to the house.

"Yes, ma'am. I mean, I think I love your son. I'd love to find out if I love him. Lovewise."

What dorks men become at the thought of great 'pussy', Mom thought. Time to play with this one a bit.

"So you're going to fuck him to see if you love him?"

Justin gulped. She wasn't making this easy. And, truth be told, Justin wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer. How to answer?

Thankfully, he didn't have to.

Alex ran down the stairs and into the living room. Followed by Daddy, who regretted the whole, "I'd better distract Alex or I'll be fucking him soon" foolishness.

Alex wanted to believe that the 'important visitor' would be Justin Cockthrob, but he was still stupefied to see Justin sitting in his own living room. Responding to Alex's explicit invitation to a fucking.

He squealed in happiness. And jumped up and down, squealing, "You came to me! You came to me! My dream has come true."

Making Daddy very sad, Justin very randy and Mom very indifferent.

Justin Cockthrob's cock throbbed. The boy was magnificent! Way better in person than in that DVD.

And despite the raging weirdness of the entire scene, Justin felt as if he and Alex were alone on a beach. At sunset. With one of the songs from Justin's first album playing.

Wait.

No.

Justin's music was really bad. Even to Justin.

Couldn't ruin the mood.

Maybe Ravel's 'Bolero'.

Yeah.

Better.

Except that Alex Needcock was way prettier than Bo Derek.

And this was no movie.

Alex looked as if he wanted Mom and Daddy to go somewhere so that Justin could pull his panties down and fuck Alex right there!

But parents can be so un-accommodating.

As the only person in the room with a functioning brain, Mom took charge. "Do you have a hotel room nearby where you plan to take my son, pull his panties down and stick your fat cock into his tiny, virginal bottom? That is, if it's still virginal."

That was said with a withering look cast at her husband. He stepped back as if stung and began to protest his small measure of innocence.

But Alex saved his Daddy. "Oh, yes, Mom. I'm still a virgin. Back there. I saved myself for Mr. Justin Cockthrob and here he is. Taking me away on his white stallion. Do you have a white stallion, Mr. Cockthrob?"

Justin could only shake his head dumbly, then turn to Mom and say, "I have a suite at the Ritz Deluxe, Mrs. Needcock. But I didn't think I'd be allowed to take Alex there and 'do things'. I thought we'd just talk and I could sign an autograph for him or something."

Yeah, right.

Mom said, "Alex, go upstairs and put on something sexy. Pack a bag with three pairs of panties, your toothbrush and that big jar of Spermbutt anal lubricant I bought you. Justin, sit. Ralph, take out the garbage."

And everyone obeyed Mom.

Alex was only gone for ten minutes, during which Daddy took out the garbage for three minutes and glowered at Justin for seven. Wishing him dead. At the very least.

Justin was taking away the best pussy Daddy had ever had.

Alex illuminated the room on his return. He was wearing tiny white short-shorts, through which one could detect even briefer pink panties, a baby-blue mini-tee with exposed navel and the word 'Sissyboy' in gold script across his oversized, puffy nipples, and strappy, pink sandals that showed off all ten of his pretty toes.

Justin approached hyperventilation as Alex batted his eyelashes at the man who would soon 'steal his virtue'.

But rather than rush to his lover's manly arms, he went to Daddy, gave him a big, tonguey kiss, then whispered in the man's ear. "I'll be back in three days, Daddy. And then we can do ANYTHING and EVERYTHING you want. As many times as you want. I won't be a virgin anymore so you can put it in me – all of it – again and again. OK?"

Daddy seemed to think that was OK.

Mom just sighed and thought about her hair and nails appointments later that day.

Justin took Alex's offered hand and they walked out the door.

Into a storm of paparazzi!

It seems that, while in his room, young, innocent Alex had texted one of the 'alert the paparazzi' sites and they responded as they always seem to.

What good is having your virginity taken by someone famous unless everyone knows about it?

Flashes flashing!

Questions pelting the lovers!

"Justin, Justin! Are you and Alex lovers?"

"Justin! Look this way! Are you going to fuck Alex? Are you gay now?"

Justin tried to hustle Alex past the media and into his waiting limo, but Alex would not be hustled. He was enjoying himself.

The media people sensed that and began to ask Alex questions.

"Alex! Is Justin taking to a love nest to fuck you?"

Alex gave the questioner a million-watt smile and said, "I sure hope so. I'm ten years old and still a virgin."

Not used to getting such direct answers, the reporters pursued Alex further.

"Are those panties you're wearing, Alex?"

"Oh, yes. I always wear panties. I'm a sissyboy. I sent Mr. Cockthrob three pairs of my panties, each filled with a big load of my boy's cream. Then he came to see me right away."

Wow!

Every paparazzo had a major erection, but one managed to ask, "What will you and Mr. Cockthrob do when you're alone, Alex?"

"That's up to Mr. Cockthrob. He's the man. But I hope we kiss a lot. I love kissing my Daddy. With lots of tongue. I hope Mr. Cockthrob lets me lick his big, fat, hairy balls. They are hairy, aren't they, Mr. Cockthrob?"

That was enough of that for Justin. He managed to get Alex into the limo with no more media interaction.

Four – Alone at last

Justin and Alex were alone in Justin's suite and wasting no time getting acquainted.

Alex was stripped to his panties and sitting on Justin's lap. Justin was stripped to the waist.

The lovers were kissing tonguily. Heat stemmed from them both.

Justin couldn't help wondering how serious Alex was about that ball bath. So he eased Alex off his lap, stood and dropped his pants and underpants.

Revealing his fat, huge cock and enormous, hairy balls to a boy who had long ached to see them.

Alex was not disappointed!

The man was hung!

Alex's idol worship evolved to testicle worship.

The boy sank to his knees and began to kiss every pore of Justin's hairy, wrinkled bag.

Justin groaned with deep lust. And his peehole wept.

The boy was delighted. He knew how his beauty and sexy docility had driven his Daddy crazy. But Justin was the big leagues.

He just had to taste the man a bit more thoroughly.

After completing a thorough ball bath, Alex shifted his loving attentions to Justin's peehole.

Kissing its pouting lips. Tasting its sweet juices.

Making Justin half-mad with lust. The man could only croak out, "Take the whole knob into your mouth, Baby!"

Alex complied eagerly.

It was a bigger knob than Daddy's. And leakier. With a thick foreskin that took some doing to skin back completely.

And so to work.

Licking.

Sucking.

Stopping occasionally to smile coquettishly at Mr. Cockthrob. Driving the man insane with the need to cum.

When he felt Justin getting close, Alex began to cuddle his man's ball bag with his silken fingers. Then stepped up the intensity and pace of his knob licking.

Justin was only human.

Groaning alpha-male-ily, Justin began to eject his thick, plentiful, creamy cargo into the young boy's sweet mouth.

Alex swallowed eagerly, intentionally allowing about half of the fierce cumload to coat his face and chest and swallowing the rest.

It was fantastically pleasurable for them both. With one minor caveat.

"Did you like that, Mr. Cockthrob?" Alex asked the man who had vowed to reject women and all their empty promises forever.

Justin groaned in affirmation.

Alex smiled through the cum-frosting on his beautiful face. "I'm glad I could make you happy. But, Mr. Cockthrob, my little peanuts are so sore and needy. Could you help me now?"

The little angel was in pain?

Justin HAD to help him. But he couldn't fuck him yet – wouldn't have a proper stiffie for 20 minutes or so.

Did Alex expect Justin to 3;?

Justin hadn't thought of that.

Well.

Let's have a look at those 'little peanuts', shall we?

Justin helped Alex to his feet. A boy is never more beautiful than when his face is covered with your sperm.

Slowly, almost ritualistically, he eased Alex's panties down, up and over his stiff little prick, then down to reveal said peanuts.

Justin's heart flooded with love.

The boy's 'things' were gorgeous.

Pink, tiny, and perfect.

And eager for Justin's kisses.

But wouldn't that be GAY?

Fucking the boy's bottom and letting him suck Justin's cock – those were all 'straight' activities. Or at least, 'straight-style'.

But sucking cock!

Even the prettiest boy on earth's cock?

Justin was ashamed that he was even considering it. Or that he had considered kissing the boy's cummy face moments earlier.

But sore peanuts are a scourge.

And Justin was basically a good person.

Self-centered and self-important (for no apparent reason).

But good.

And Alex was in pain.

Justin sat in a chair – no kneeling – and motioned for Alex to step toward him. Tentatively, he kissed the base of Alex's cock.

And he didn't die.

Alex gasped.

Justin liked that.

So he began licking each of the boy's baby balls. Beaming with pleasure at Alex's randy little grunts and pants.

Justin licked and kissed his way up the boy's shaft until he reached the fully skinned knob.

He took Alex's cockhead into his mouth and gave it a tentative suck. Alex squealed.

Justin began to suck and lick the head and the shaft with all of the ardor he could muster. It was delicious. And the way that Alex was reacting was making Justin prematurely stiff all over again.

Alex grunted and gasped as his man sucked his cock. The first cock, Alex was sure, that Justin Cockthrob had ever sucked.

It was all so exciting that Alex couldn't hold back anymore. He was sobbing and squeaking and then, cowabunga!

Alex surprised Justin with the ferocity of his orgasm and the quantity and creaminess of his sperm.

Though not gifted by size, he was gifted by fluid.

The boy could bring it.

Down the inexperienced man's throat and onto his hairy chest.

It was an orgasm for the record books. The realization of a dream for them both, though Justin's dream had been latent.

So – man and boy – drenched in each other's cum. Naked. In bed.

What to do?

A deep prolonged, cummy kiss, of course.

Rolling around as they licked the sperm from each other's fine features.

Each held the other's prick in a loving hand as they kissed. Amazing Alex that Justin had recovered so much more quickly than Daddy did.

It was almost time to fuck, except 3;

"Could I ask you something, Mr. Cockthrob?"

Justin was ready for the "Do you love me?" question that his women lovers always seemed to ask.

Instead – "Will you lick my bottomhole before you fuck me? Daddy wouldn't because he was afraid that it would excite him so much that he'd take my virginity. But I've always dreamed about you licking my bottomhole. And here you are. Would you? Please? For me?"

Anyone failing to honor a request phrased that way by someone one intends to fuck is not a gentleman.

But licking a bottomhole?

Ick?

Maybe not.

Wouldn't hurt to try.

Just a taste.

Anything to keep this little doll in a full fuck-heat.

So how?

"Just lie on your back, Mr. Cockthrob, and I'll sit on your face. Like that. OHHHH! Your tongue!!! OHHHHHH!!!!!"

Now while the question of Justin Cockthrob's 'talent' had been pretty much settled some years earlier, it appeared that the man was exquisitely talented in analingus.

Whether such ability sprang from a specific bit of DNA on the Y-chromosome or was inspired by the rear view of Alex's perfect bottom and dangling balls descending on Justin's face, we'll never know.

But he was an enthusiastic, talented and happy ass-licker.

And the ass's owner was most appreciative.

Justin delighted in the way he pleased Alex. The boy's grunts and groans and squeaks and squeals were sweet music to Justin. Far sweeter than anything Justin ever sang.

The man actually liked the taste. A bit tangy, perhaps. But very sexy too.

Justin knew that he was also lubricating the boy's hole for a big, first-time invader. A thought that filled Justin with exquisite anticipation.

His cock was standing tall and proud at the thought. And he wished that Alex would take it into his pretty mouth to ease Justin's pain. But Alex was smarter than that.

Justin's Erection Number Two, the one that is most suitable for fucking after Erection Number One took the edge off, was destined for Alex's asshole and that was that.

Though Alex held himself to no such restriction.

The boy happily screamed and spurted all over Mr. Cockthrob's hairy chest. As his anus contracted on Justin's tongue.

Justin was delighted that he had made Alex spunk by merely licking his anus and not even touching his little willie.

The boy was a sexual furnace!

Time to fuck the furnace.

Justin would just throw the boy onto his back and plunge 3; But 3;

"That was awesome, Mr. Cockthrob! You're making my dreams come true! Could I just ask for one more thing?"

What now? Justin thought.

"Can we fuck now, please? I mean after you dip your fingers into this Spermbutt anal lubricant and rub the inside of my bottomhole with it – really well so I'm dilated. Unless, you know, you want to kill me."

All accompanied with the biggest, most beautiful smile Justin had ever seen.

The man's heart melted yet again.

And, though anal pleasures were relatively new to him, he got over his natural aversion to sticking gooey fingers into a boy's anus.

It seems that even groupies almost never give up their butts to the likes of Justin Cockthrob. Maybe if he weren't so 'B-list' (and on the way to 'C').

So this was still new to Justin. As was Alex's dialogue as he lay on his stomach with three of Justin's Spermbutt-lubed fingers up his pretty keyster.

"Oh, Mr. Cockthrob! That's so good. In a little more. To the left. Oh! [Gasp!] That's it. Rub there!! Oh!"

And Alex screamed yet again. Spunking up Justin's sheets with a few dribbles of his remaining cum reserves.

And now Alex's time had come.

He knew it. He relished it.

Justin knew it. He just didn't know exactly how.

Wait. Geometry. Not his best subject in high school. Nor were English, algebra or an array of others.

But angles were important.

Had to improve his angle.

So he slipped two pillows under Alex's hips to improve his angle.

Then spread the boy's knees a bit to open the anus a bit.

And there was the prize. A beautiful, sex-starved boy, completely smitten with his lover. Open and lubed. Dilated and ready for penetration.

Enough thought. Time to fuck.

Justin knelt behind Alex and rubbed the boy's burning hole with his peelips.

Teasing.

Enjoying the moment.

"Put it in me. Please!" a hyper-aroused Alex begged.

OK then. Justin pushed the head in. And provoked an earth-shaking scream from the world's prettiest sissyboy.

That hurt!

But a sissyboy must suffer for his man's pleasure. So Alex choked out a "More, please!"

Justin replied with three more cockish inches [7½ cm]. And engendered another hellish scream.

The boy endured and even pushed back for more.

Justin did the best thing he could – pushing the final 3.5 inches [9 cm] in. To the hairs. And almost to the boy's esophagus.

The first two screams were minor compared to the third.

Hotel security didn't blink.

"Is that a boy getting' his cherry popped in 1201, Kelly?"

"Sure is, Robbins. A pretty one too. Lucky guy."

"Yeah."

Ho-hum.

But not to Justin and Alex.

When Alex's anus adjusted to its new tenant, as anuses do, the real coitus began.

Great coitus!

Justin pushed and pulled his cock in and out of the sweetest place it had ever been.

Clipping Alex's prostate with each hot stroke.

Lots of happy squeaks and grunts from Alex.

As Justin enjoyed the best moments of his life.

Every stroke was spectacular. For both of them.

As with any Force Ten orgasm, the warning signs were as much fun as a normal orgasm. When Justin came, he blew off the tips six of his toes. Graves opened in a nearby cemetery. And prophesies came true in far-off lands.

Justin had never imagined that sex could be so enjoyable.

And it was followed by neither nagging, manipulation, nor emasculation.

Just more great fucking over the next three days.

After which, Alex returned home to show his Daddy everything he learned. Justin returned to California to bask in his new celebrity.

It seems that the paparazzi's coverage of Justin and Alex, whom they dubbed "Julex," had moved Justin fully into the A-list.

That made him sort of happy, but he missed Alex. In fact, he discovered, he loved Alex.

So a month later, Justin flew back to Alex's home and proposed marriage to Alex.

Who declined!!

It seems that a) Alex didn't want to be separated from his Daddy, who was fucking him three or four times a day and b) Alex didn't want to be separated from the rest of the world's men, who were beating down his door and fucking him three or four additional times each day.

Good choice, Alex!

Justin, though temporarily disappointed, found solace among the dozens of delicious sissyboys who were pelting him with amazing offers each day.

So they all lived happily ever after. Because Justin Cockthrob had the good sense to try boys.

Try Boys – Ten

Eric Leapsperm (32yo) and Corey Jalebate (10yo)

One – The Room

An entire weekend with his imaginary darlings in his secure place.

A cum-drenched weekend of forbidden pleasures – which are always the best kind, aren't they?

Eric's pleasures were all of the forbidden variety those days. What he loved 3; whom he loved 3; could never be expressed out loud. Because Eric 3; [gasp!] loved boys!!

Young boys!

Young, sweet, tender boys with pretty faces and bums a man could lose his cock in and never return.

Even though the world had been changing of late, what with the Try Boys movement in the news every day, Eric could still never reveal his secret passion. He just knew that if he did, he'd be scorned and reviled.

So Eric had The Room.

The master bedroom in his three-bedroom house could only be entered by Eric. It could only ne opened with his thumbprint. Expensive precautions to be sure.

Even more expensive was the equipment Eric had purchased in order to 'decorate' The Room.

But well worth it.

The 32-year-old accountant lived for his moments in The Room. A place where his vivid fantasies almost came true.

But not quite.

[Sigh]

Eric touched his thumb to the security pad and the door clicked open.

The windows, which had been reinforced with impenetrable glass and ultra-dark shades sealed Eric from the outside world. As did the door, which he locked behind him.

Eric had a well-stocked refrigerator in The Room, as well as an en suite bathroom. So he could easily spend a week there without emerging.

The bed was large, and made up with clean sheets, which Eric freshened every day.

Eric stripped naked, not looking at the walls quite yet. Waiting to get himself situated first. Before going to work that morning, he'd placed fresh towels and two bottles of Slickyboy masturbation cream within close reach. He fluffed up his pillows, lay back and thought about, but didn't look at the wall directly in front of him.

Eric's bedroom walls were adorned with his favorite pictures from his favorite magazine – Sissy Boy, of course. The thousands he had spent on sophisticated equipment that blew the pictures up to 40x50 [100x125 cm] posters were a pittance when measured against the pleasure they engendered.

Oh, the pleasure. Safe pleasure. Not the terror-filled kind Eric would have with an actual boy.

Eric touched his cock, feeling good again that he had been given such a nice, big asset. And that his parents had kept it intact rather that slicing the foreskin off when he was too young to protest.

He squirted a nice dollop of Slickyboy onto his right palm, then rubbed it onto his exposed knob.

Mmmm.

Time to look at the wall.

Oh my!

A 40x50-inch [100x125 cm] poster featured a perfect, ten-year-old beauty resting his cheek against a lake of cum that had formed around an unseen man's hairy belly. The man's large cockhead was drooling sperm, obviously in tribute to the boy's limitless charms and eager cocksucking. The boy's huge, liquid eyes were looking at the camera (and Eric) and the caption, custom-made by Eric, said, "Daddy's going to fuck me after I get him hard again, Mr. Leapsperm. But then I'm all yours for the night."

Oh. That was a good caption, Eric thought. Far better than anything Sissy Boy ever wrote. Writing captions for Sissy Boy was his dream job, but that would be far too public for Eric.

The boy in the poster was the perfect mixture of four parts sweet, innocent angel and one part slutboy. Phenomenally beautiful. And quite comfortable with his cheek in a pool of paternal sperm.

Eric looked to the left and saw an angel on all fours, his perfect bottomhole pointed at Eric. The door to paradise had been well lubed and apparently 'eaten out' by a very lucky man. The boy was looking back at the camera with tears of lust and fear in his eyes and he said, "You can put into me now, Mr. Leapsperm. But remember, you promised I wouldn't get pregnant!"

Eric's cock twitched as he looked at the boy's dangling little pretties and impossibly exquisite ass. He was eager to fuck, yet scared for his life and so innocent, he thought sissyboys could get pregnant.

Which made Eric's balls signal that they were already getting a bit too eager to shoot their treasure.

Pleasure delayed is pleasure enhanced – a basic rule of fine masturbation.

So Eric took his hand off his cock for a moment and looked to the right.

Wow. Another gem.

A blond, curly-headed, naked, 10-year-old candidate for Miss Sissy Boy 2010 was standing, facing the camera. His flat belly was drenched with his boy's cream, some of which was still drooling from his dwindling penis. With a dazzling smile at the camera, he was saying, "I love you so much, Mr. Leapsperm, that all you have to do is look at me and I spurt."

So beautiful!!

Eric looked above the original cheek-in-cum shot and saw a stunning, naked boy on his back, knees up. Freshly fucked, the boy was oozing man's cream from his gaping 'pussy' and his face had been fully frosted with virile juices. The boy's arms were extended in invitation and he was saying, "Kiss me, Mr. Leapsperm. Nobody makes me as happy as you do!"

And that was that for Eric Leapsperm.

Though he had stopped stroking his cock, the stimulation was too much.

The man cried out and shot his spunk in thick ropes in tribute to the boys he loved, but would never have.

Or so he thought.

Two – Reaching out

"Let's go back to bed, Mr. Leapsperm," the boy said.

Which sent a shiver through Eric's groin. And stiffened his exhausted cock yet again.

Sadly, the sweet beauty was just another fantasy encased within a 40x50 [100x125 cm] poster.

Reality, with all its risks and rewards, was still largely the undiscovered country to Eric Leapsperm.

Which was especially sad because right next door that early Saturday morning, had Eric looked, he could have seen reality at its glorious best.

When Eric's 10-year-old, next-door neighbor, Corey Jalebate, heard a car door slam in his driveway, he knew his 12-year-old brother Kelly was home.

Corey idolized Kelly and why not?

Kelly was the very symbol of the new, liberated, Try Boys era.

Openly sissified. Impossibly beautiful. Adored by every man he met.

With a Mom and Dad who were proud of their older son – encouraging him to date men – on overnight sleepovers (though Kelly told his younger brother they were really cumovers).

Kelly came in through the kitchen door with a broad, happy smile, though he looked as if he had been run over by a truck. His panties were AWOL and he was naked below the waist. His bottom was beet red and globs of cum were drooling from his pretty hole. His teeny weeny was drooping and dripping cum and his privates were saturated with dried sticky cream. His face was covered with a fresh load of goo. It looked as if he had had a spectacular date with his junior high school principal, Mr. Osgood Conklin.

Mom and Daddy smiled and kissed Kelly. "Tell us everything, Honey," Mom said. "This should be interesting."

Kelly smiled. He took a glass of orange juice and some toast, but his bottom was too sore to sit.

He began. "Mr. Conklin was fantastic. He fucked me practically all evening and off and on throughout the night. But things got really interesting this morning. He woke me at six for round eight and made me cum twice. But then he couldn't get it up again. I sucked him, licked his balls and fingered his bottom, but he was dead. I don't know what possessed me, but I got mad.

"'You call yourself a man?' I said to him. 'You're a limp-dicked little weasel who can't even fuck a sissyboy properly'. Eight rounds of pootie is a lot and he was terrific for every one of them, but for some reason, I just felt like giving him a difficult time.

"I kept it up, prancing around the bedroom, naked my little, sissyboy meat swinging, and he just stared at me. Then it happened. He snapped.

"It was glorious. He grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me over to a hard chair. He sat and pulled me across his knees, bottom up. Exposing my poor backside. Then he began to beat my bottom with his hand. Hard. He was an ANIMAL! I never came so hard in my life. Then I came again a minute later. I begged him to fuck me and he had his biggest, strongest stiffie of the night. He threw me onto the floor on my stomach and without preliminary, mounted me. My bottom was flaming and sore and he fucked me like a wildman. I came so hard that I fainted.

"When I awoke, he was grunting and filling me with about a gallon of cum. His eyes were wide and wild. It was unlike anything I've ever experienced. Oh, my. I'm rock hard just talking about it."

So was Corey. So was Daddy. And Mom was squirming and sloshing a little in her chair.

"Mr. Conklin fucked me again a little while later. Then he drove me home and I blew him in the driveway and took his big load in my face. We're going out again next weekend. Isn't it wonderful?"

Young Corey was in major, sissyboy-arousal distress, but Mom acted first. She stood and said to Daddy, "It's good to hear that there are real men out there who know how to discipline. I don't think you're man enough to do anything like that to me." Then she got up, wiggled her beautiful little butt at Daddy, gave him half a smile and went upstairs.

Daddy gulped. He looked at the boys. "Boys," Daddy said, "I know you both need a milking now, but Daddy has something important to do. Why don't you take a nice shower together and milk each other? I'll make it worth your while."

Kelly was enjoying Daddy's arousal for Mom. "In what way, Daddy?" he said.

Daddy cleared his throat. "I'll milk you for an hour any school night this week if you like."

No fair! Protest! "What about me, Daddy?" Corey demanded.

Daddy swallowed hard. "The next time you milk Daddy, you can lick your fingers."

<Gasp> That was fantastic!!!! Daddy almost never let the boys lick his cum after they milked him. He always said the three of them milked each other just to "relieve the pressure" that guys feel. All perfectly normal stuff.

"Deal," Corey managed to say, and Daddy was up the stairs in a flash. Kelly and Corey giggled and sneaked up to listen through their parents' door. Daddy was scolding Mom and spanking her hard. Mom was crying, but the boys could also hear her moaning the way she does when she cums.

Oh, how Corey wanted to be Mom at that moment.

Kelly grabbed Corey's hand and led him to the bathroom they shared.

The sissies stripped naked and held each other closely. They rubbed our little stiffies together and kissed sweetly. Kelly turned the warm water on and they got into the shower.

Corey washed Kelly with a cloth and soap and was very gentle with his still-red bottom. Corey had to rub a little to remove the sticky cum that covered Kelly from his neck to his knees, and he winced a little, but he thanked Corey with a warm kiss when he was done.

They dried each other off with fluffy towels, then lay next to each other, giggling as they heard Daddy stop swatting Mom's bottom and begin to fuck her again and again.

Kelly got up onto his right side and began to twiddle with Corey's foreskin as he tongue-kissed his younger brother.

Mmmmm.

Kelly kept it up until Corey shuddered and came all over Kelly's pretty fingers. The little tramp licked it off his fingers slowly, looking into Corey's eyes the whole time. Then he lay on his back and invited Corey to milk him.

Corey gave Kelly a great wank and despite his previous hard work, when Corey kissed Kelly and slipped him the tongue, he whimpered and came all over Corey's soft hand. Corey licked it hungrily, then kissed Kelly again.

Kelly got out of bed and got himself all sluttied up for an afternoon date with Mr. Hershey, who owned the candy store the boys used to go to as kids. Then he had an overnight date with Mr. Beasley, their postman.

Both sweet men were very big, hard and spunky. Kelly was going to be hopping from one bed to the next.

Corey kissed Kelly goodbye. He loved Kelly so. He was the best brother a sissyboy ever had.

But Corey had to ask himself, when was his turn?

Kelly had been dating men since he was nine 3; doing sleepovers since he was nine and a half 3; making boy's cream since his tenth birthday.

Comparatively, Corey was a slow learner.

Daddy had been milking Corey three or four times a day, of course. And there was lots of fun with Kelly when he was home.

But Corey had never sucked a cock and had never been fucked! Even though he was ten years and two months old and had been spurting for almost three months!

Daddy and Mom had asked him why, of course and he told them the truth: "I want my first man to be special." A phrase that he always delivered with a flirty eye batting at Daddy.

Who gulped. And tented his pants every time he thought about sticking his cock into his younger son's virginal hole.

Daddy, or more precisely Mom, had a strict feeling about incest. Medicinal milkings were OK, but oral and anal were out.

How last century was that?

So it appeared that Daddy being Corey's first was a non-starter.

Which made Corey resolve, that very day, to find an alternative cherry-popper.

That very morning, fate being fateful as he/she always is, Eric Leapsperm had decided that his balls were empty enough that he should do something other than wank for an hour or so.

So he changed his sheets, put them into the laundry, took a shower, and exchanged a few of the wall posters for different objets de wank.

A full-length poster of a naked 9-year-old on his back, asking, "Please, Mr. Leapsperm, I don't want to be a virgin anymore," had Eric considering a quick toss-off.

But he decided to get a quick breath of air. Thought he'd drive to the supermarket. Get some groceries. And this week's issue of Sissy Boy.

So he stepped outside onto his porch. Just in time to see Mr. Hershey pull his car into the Jalebates' driveway.

And there was Kelly.

Oh my!

Kelly.

Kelly was a cutie all right. Before he created The Room, Eric would pull his peter to thoughts of Kelly, who at that time must have been nine or ten.

The boy must be twelve now. And quite spectacular.

Kelly's back was to Eric. The boy was waving to Mr. Hershey and the man looked as if he had just seen the red bike under the tree on Christmas morning.

Eric saw something way better.

Kelly's bottom.

The boy was wearing a very slutty outfit: tiny, cutoff jeans that exposed two-thirds of each of Kelly's plump, pink bottomcheeks. Were those pink panties Kelly was wearing?

Why would be Kelly be going off alone with a man wearing an outfit like that?

Oh.

Kelly and Mr. Hershey were going on a date.

The kind of a date he had seen in Sissy Boy. And in his dreams.

The man was going to fuck Kelly and Kelly was going to beg for more and more cock.

Just like Eric's dreams.

And Eric, cowardly Eric, taking the safe road, would have none of it.

But no.

That Fate thing happened.

Kelly got into the car and gave Mr. Hershey a big, tonguey kiss. Which removed the last scintilla of doubt and made Eric moan softly in arousal and disappointment.

Corey, who was outside seeing his big brother off to his afternoon delight, heard the moan and turned to see its source.

Mr. Leapsperm.

Who had lived next door to them for as long as Corey remembered, yet had rarely been spotted by the Jalebate family. Who had often speculated among themselves that he was a recreational wanker. Though they really didn't believe that anyone could wank that much.

Not a bad-looking man, Corey thought as he sized him up. Quite fit and handsome. It was a wonder he didn't have an active fornication life.

The thought even flashed through Corey's hormone-bathed brain that Mr. Leapsperm and he might even enjoy some carnal moments together. Maybe Mr. Leapsperm was just the kind of man Eric was looking for. Tall. Buff. Handsome. Unencumbered by other relationships. Convenient, even.

If they were to have a love affair, Corey could slip next door for a few screaming orgasms after school and be home for supper.

During Corey's ruminations, Eric watched Kelly and Mr. Hershey drive off. Eric sighed and entered full rationalization mode.

Kelly was an amazing beauty. And hot as the surface of the sun on the Fourth of July.

But he was old. Nearly 13, by Eric's reckoning. And quite 3; how could Eric say it 3; 'used'.

If only there were a boy as pretty as Kelly, but younger. Say 3; ten years old. And a virgin. But eager for Eric to fuck him.

If Eric could only meet someone like that, the ridiculously risk-averse man would take the big leap.

At that very moment, Eric's eyes met Corey's.

Lightning bolts jumped between the four pupils.

Eric was everything Corey wanted. Corey was everything Eric wanted.

Somehow they both knew it.

Eric cleared his throat and, being the man, took the initiative. Sort of.

"Hi," Eric said. "You're Corey, right? I'm sorry I haven't been a good neighbor. I've been kind of busy."

Corey nodded. Nobody is too busy to meet his neighbors. For years. But Eric was handsome enough to be worth redemption. Plus, Corey could see that the man was substantially erect in his khakis.

Was that all for Corey? Since it appeared to be growing, that was a big yes. A very big yes.

"That's OK, Mr. Leapsperm," Corey responded. And awaited the man's next move.

[Frantic next sentence planning by Eric's brain.]

"Uh, Corey. What are you wearing for Halloween this week?"

Not the best, but better than nothing.

Corey smiled coquettishly and said, "I'm dressing as my sissyboy brother Kelly. He's my idol."

OK then.

Even Eric couldn't mistake that declaration.

[Gulp] "Corey, I don't believe you've ever been inside my house. Would you like to see it? I could make you a sandwich if you're hungry."

Corey gave Eric his million-watt smile and said, "I'm not hungry 3;for food."

And Corey joined Eric on the man's porch. Trembling softly, though he knew his time had come, Eric held his front door open and ushered Corey inside.

Corey surprised Eric by going straight to the man's landline phone. He picked it up and began to dial. "I have to tell my parents I won't be home until morning."

Eric practically wet his pants as he heard: "Mom, I'm staying at Mr. Leapsperm's tonight, OK? Mr. Leapsperm 3;our next-door neighbor. Right. Yes, Mom. I'm sure. And no sneaking over to take pictures of us doing it for the family album, like you did on Kelly's first date, OK? Thanks, Mom. Love you too."

Corey hung up. "Parents," he said. "Now what about that tour? Is that a bedroom over there?"

Indeed it was. The only bedroom on the first floor.

Corey walked smartly in that direction. A stunned Eric had only the wherewithal to triple-lock the door and windows and pull all the shades.

So by the time he caught up with Corey in the bedroom, the boy had removed his pants, shirt, shoes and socks and was lying in the queen-sized bed in his lavender bikini panties.

Panties!!

With a pretty little tent in them. And a wet spot at the tip of the tentpole.

Oh!

As if that weren't enough to boil Eric's blood, Corey said the exact same thing that the nine-year-old doll in the poster in The Room said:

"Please, Mr. Leapsperm, I don't want to be a virgin anymore,"

Eric groaned audibly.

Had Corey been in The Room?????

Has he been peeking through the always-closed blinds in The Room?

No way.

The reason Corey said he didn't want to be a virgin any more was that he didn't want to be a virgin any more. But, with such parents and a sluttyboy brother like Kelly, how 3;?

Seeing Eric's doubts, Corey said, "I really am a virgin, Mr. Leapsperm. Except for Daddy's kisses and 'milkings'. And Kelly's, of course. I've never even sucked a cock or had mine sucked. Or even had any fingers in my 'pussy'. Mom and Daddy are very strict on that. No incest. With family members, we only have nice, hot, creamy milkings and tongue kisses."

Eric shuddered with lust.

Not only was he about to fuck his first boy. The boy was a) spectacularly gorgeous and b) virginal.

Eric was clearly among those who overthink. Because two clear images assaulted his testicles (the new location of his brain).

First, Eric saw a vision of the happy ending that he and Corey both wanted.

The boy was naked, sleeping with contented exhaustion. He was lying on his right side, sucking his right thumb and clutching a teddy bear in his left arm. Corey's freshly-fucked bottom was oozing Eric's sperm.

Oh! Oh!

Second, Eric saw himself, more than 20 years earlier. Lying in his bed. Naked. Clutching his teddy bear. Though his bottom was unfucked and would remain so to that day.

Twenty years and two months earlier, Eric and his lover, a forty-something neighbor named Karl, had celebrated Eric's 11th birthday with the full insertion of Karl's massive cock into Eric's tight, tiny, eager bottomhole.

Eric had never been so happy in his life. Before or since. Until that moment of wild anticipation with Corey.

It seemed that after a torrid, two-month love affair with Eric, for spiteful reasons unknown, one of Karl's earlier 'boyfriends' had narced him out to the local gendarmes.

Karl did twelve years of very hard time.

Being a loving boy, Eric had never placed another man in danger by sharing his favors. And being a prudent man, he never risked Karl's fate by being with a boy.

Of course, laws and attitudes had evolved over those 20 years.

In the 'Try Boys' era, the age of consent for girls remained at 18 (girls get pregnant), but for boys, it was reduced to age nine.

Eric seemed to have been the only man on earth to have missed this happy development. He had, at one point, been desperate enough to 'Try Women' until he became tired of the nagging, manipulation and emasculation and built 'The Room'.

No need for The Room that lovely Saturday afternoon.

A sweet, innocent, young beauty was half naked on Eric's bed. Whimpering to be fucked.

Time to give the boy what he wanted.

Slowly.

Enjoying every step.

First task was for Eric to show the boy an aroused man's hairy body.

Did Corey gasp and moan when Eric stood before him naked and hugely rampant?

Apparently he did.

"Oh, Mr. Leapsperm," the boy choked out of his pretty mouth. "You're so beautiful. Better than I could have ever imagined or hoped for."

Eric's cock leaked a quarter cup of pre-cum at those words. Coating his skinned knob with nature's anal lubricant.

"Let me love you now, my perfect angel," Eric said dramatically as he sat bedside his pantied paramour.

Corey parted his lips for a kiss, looking at Eric with eyes moist with lust. Eric leaned forward and touched his manly lips to the boy's own soft, red, pillows of love.

And they kissed. Gently at first. Then more and more passionately. With tongues jousting as the heat built.

Eric broke the kiss reluctantly, but he had to see what was under Corey's tented panties.

Corey was eager to show him.

Slowly, with evident admiration, Eric pulled Corey's panties up and over the boy's three gorgeous, stiff inches [7½ cm].

Exposing the delicious triad of pricklet and dangly egglets.

The most beautiful sight in Eric's life.

Until Corey rolled over and showed Eric his bottom.

Oh my!

Corey knew he had a man-stupefying bottom.

Daddy always got really stiff whenever Corey showed him his bum. Corey would always make a production out of showing Daddy his 'things' before his thrice-daily milkings.

Corey NEVER just pulled down his zipper and 'whipped it out'. He always teased Daddy with his body. Giving him blushy flirt-looks as he exposed his pretty bum, pore-by-pore. The poor over-teased man would be in quite a state, especially when Corey 'accidentally' showed Daddy 'pink'.

Poor Daddy, being a man, ached to immediately and fiercely shove his frantically aroused cock eight inches [20 cm] deep in his younger son's bowels.

It was a miracle that he didn't.

By the time Corey turned around and showed Daddy his stiff, achy peeny and dangling delights, they were always both in a state of high arousal.

Ten days before Corey and Eric's 'first date', Daddy began to seat Corey on his lap for his milkings. Even better, Daddy gave Corey a big stiff something to hold onto while Daddy performed the medically-necessary procedure.

Of course they tongue-kissed as they stroked each other to the anteroom of paradise.

But that was as far as Daddy would go.

No matter how many times Corey would whisper into Daddy's ear as he stroked the man to a blaster of a cum, "You can put it inside me, Daddy. I want you to. And I'll never tell Mom."

Poor Daddy.

He would always groan at that point and shoot his sperm. But he never fucked poor Corey. Or sucked his little cock. Or even put his fingers into Corey's magnificent bumhole.

A bumhole that Corey would admire every day in his full-length mirror.

It was a gorgeous bumhole. Surrounded by deliciously beautiful bumcheeks.

And it was Eric's good fortune that Corey's Daddy had left it all 'intact'.

Like any normal man, the sight of the naked Corey, his bumhole practically verbalizing the words, "Fuck me!" had Eric in a very warm condition.

But just climbing aboard and shoving it in seemed almost heretical for a true boylover like Eric.

And unnecessary.

They weren't in an alley, fearful of discovery.

They were in Eric's house. Doors locked. Corey's parents in full compliance. The boy not expected home for 20 hours.

But that bum needed immediate attention.

Corey was lying on his stomach. Legs slightly parted. Offering a glimpse of the underside of his puerile balls. And a visual whiff of Corey's wrinkled anus. The boy was looking back over his left shoulder at Eric. Lustfullly fearful of the sexual fury about to be unleashed upon him. And eager for it to begin.

It began.

Eric leaned over and kissed Corey's left bumcheek. Then his right.

Corey enjoyed it. But it was so mild. When was the good stu 3; 3; 3; Wow!!!!!!!

Corey squealed in surprise and delight as he felt a tongue in his bottomhole for the first time in his life.

The man had his tongue in the hole where Corey pooped!

Was there any truer declaration of admiration?

For his part, Eric was thrilled.

Thrilled to be tasting boy anus, instead of just fantasizing about it.

Thrilled to be thrilling the delightful ten-year-old who was squealing and writhing under Eric's loving attentions.

Eric dug his tongue into Corey's pussy as far as it would go. Licking hungrily. Then, oddly to the boy's reckoning, stopping when Corey's building reactions signaled an imminent orgasm.

Why is the man stopping? Corey thought. Daddy rubs me harder when he knows I'm getting 'close'.

Then he found out.

Eric flipped Corey onto his back, slid two fingers into the boy's anal hole, then took Corey's cock tip into his mouth.

Eric licked Corey's pretty knob as he found and tormented his prostate with two rude fingers.

Two basic erotic delights that were completely new to Corey.

It's amazing that the boy survived the ensuing orgasm.

The boy felt his balls simulate nuclear fission.

Oh, sweet agony for the boy!!

A deep longing that began its full realization for the man.

Eric's first taste of boy's cream.

And a tasty sauce it was.

Hot. Fresh. Thick and creamy.

Wrenched from its previous owner's testicles in the midst of a primal scream.

Then swallowed greedily by a man about to have a wonderful rest-of-his-life.

When the last tingle of the last seizure had left Corey's body, he lay on his back, chest heaving. Eyes moist with love and wonder.

What just happened?

That was that thing that Mr. Leapsperm had rubbed 'up there?'

Was that the place Kelly had told Corey about? The deep-inside place that felt so good when men's big cocks rubbed it?

Kelly hadn't described it well enough.

Nor had he told Corey enough about what it felt like to get your cock sucked.

It was clear that Corey would have to do more research.

In Mr. Leapsperm's laboratory.

Corey decided that his cocksucking research would begin with a nice, long licking of that big, hot thing protruding above Mr. Leapsperm's hairy balls.

But he didn't move quickly enough.

Eric had decided that Corey's nipples were too big and too puffy to just sit there unattended.

Another new experience for Corey – the man was kissing, licking and sucking on Corey's nipples the way Corey had seen Daddy doing for Mom those times when he spied on their lovemaking.

Another very nice, new experience. That was three so far. Were many more to follow?

Oh yes.

After one of many Eric's many earlier flights of fantasy, the flight's pilot had decided to buy some Spermbutt anal lubricant. Just in case. And – just in case – sequester an ample portion of it in both nightstand drawers of the downstairs bedroom. Just in case.

So, as Corey felt manly lips and tongue assaulting his nipples, he felt three thick, manly, Spermbutt-drenched fingers excavating his anus. Stretching it. Dilating and lubricating it. Which should precede penetrating it and fornicating it.

The man was a rude beast! His fingers were TAKING what they wanted from inside Corey's bottomhole. Dominating the innocent young boy as the boy's prostate endured a digital ravishment!

The nipple licking. The prostate 'destruction'.

Oh!

Oh!

Corey was heaving out his sweet cream in thick, greasy ropes.

And screaming as if he had been anally impaled by Excalibur.

What a lovely, loving moment for both Eric and Corey.

And soon to get lovelier and lovinger.

Mr. Eric Leapsperm had been darned good to Master Corey Jalebate thus far. It was high time that he take a little something for himself.

That little something being Corey's asshole. Which, though lubricated and dilated, was still not within federal guidelines for acceptance of an 8.2-inch [20.8 cm], fat, veiny, thickly-foreskinned cock.

It's a good thing federal regulators weren't present.

Eric mounted the boy, who was on his back, knees spread and up, eager to be fucked.

Had Corey known that a boy's first fuck can be 3;challenging 3;he may not have been so eager.

Though he still would have wanted Mr. Leapsperm's cock in his ass.

Corey was a sissyboy. Sissyboys are little cock hostesses.

And the hostess's party was beginning to heat up.

Eric got into position on top of the boy, lined his cock up with Corey's Sprembutt-drooling anus, and pushed. Hard and fast.

Which is more merciful that the inch-at-a-time approach.

And within two seconds, Eric was 'in to the hairs'.

Eric congratulated himself for finally realizing his dream. He thought, hey, having my cock in a beautiful boy's hot bumhole is even better than I imagined.

Though it was difficult to enjoy all of that rumination fully because Corey was screaming as if he were being axe-murdered.

Had Eric screamed like that the first time Karl had fucked him? Probably. But then it became pure pleasure.

Eric ignored Corey's sobs and wriggles to escape and continued fucking the boy tenderly. Covering Corey's mouth with his own until the boy calmed down and began to experience the full pleasure of a man's thick cock rubbing his prostate 30 times a minute.

As Corey's little whimpers began to indicate pleasure and need, Eric increased the pace to 40 per minute.

When Corey wrapped his legs around Eric's back, broke the kiss and squealed out, "MORE!" It was 75 strokes per minute.

By the time Eric shot his incredibly large load into Corey's bum, they were both flop=sweaty and a bit feral.

Corey doused Eric's stomach moments before Eric groaned and made Corey a full-fledged sissyboy!

Corey felt the spermstorm drench his gastro-intestinal system and saw his future as a world-class sissyboy.

Eric saw his own future as a world-class fucker of sissyboys.

And they were both very happy indeed.

Tony Spearbum (34yo) and Julian Headturner(11yo)

Wally Headturner was concerned about Tony Spearbum.

"Wake up, Tony!" 34-year-old Wally wanted to say to his best friend since kindergarten. "Nobody's fucking women anymore!"

In Wally's expert opinion, Tony had not only loved and lost. He'd lost more than a deposed dictator whose Swiss banker ratted him out.

Woman after woman in Tony's life had nagged, manipulated and emasculated Tony and all the man did was keep coming back for more.

Hadn't Tony ever heard about the 'Try Boys' movement? Men didn't need to put up with that crap any more.

So one Saturday morning, Wally stopped by Tony's house and made him a GREAT offer.

"I've got a date for you for this weekend, Buddy," Wally said. "A fantastic piece of ass. And for you, a sure thing. You'll be emptying those full nuts of yours all weekend. Interested?"

"Absolutely not, Wally," Tony said. "I've been fixed up before and it's always a disaster. She's either a dog, a tramp, or someone who'll rip my heart out just to watch it beat outside my body. Thanks a lot, but no. No way."

Wally wasn't deterred at all by that soliloquy of past pain.

"I know what you're saying, pal. I really do. But this is different. In every way."

"Yeah, right, Wally. People who fix me up always say that and then she turns out to be 3;"

"There's where you're wrong already, buddy. Who said it's a 'she'?"

Well.

That got Tony's attention. His horrified attention.

How had his best friend concluded that Tony was gay? He wasn't. Not one cell of his body was gay. He tried to tell his friend that but he was in deep shock.

"Listen, Tony," Wally continued, "I know you're not gay. I'm not hooking you up with a man. I'm fixing you up with a sissyboy. Sissyboys are better than women. They love sex, love and appreciate men, and they never nag, manipulate or emasculate a man. There's no sex with a woman that's one-tenth as good as sex with a pretty sissyboy."

Still stunned. But thinking. Tony had seen all that stuff about 'Try Boys' on the news of course. And he knew that some men, maybe a lot of men, were openly dating sissyboys. Hadn't Hollywood just released the first big-budget, sissyboy-romance movie?

But that was definitely NOT Tony's side of the street.

He opened his mouth to totally reject his friend's ridiculous offer, then he would order his legs to carry him away from Wally. Perhaps forever.

But his mouth formed a different word: "Who?"

Wally smiled. The horse wasn't in the barn yet, but he had one rein in hand. "A totally gorgeous, redheaded 11-year-old who has been in love with you most of his life. He wants you to take him to see that new movie about man-boy romance this afternoon and see where things go from there."

Oh no! Was Wally talking about 3;?

"That's right, pal," Wally said. "My son Julian is in love with you. Won't you at least take him to the movies this afternoon?"

Tony staggered back at the enormity of what he just heard.

Wally, his best friend for 29 years, was offering Tony his son Julian for sex!!

He was practically accusing Tony or being a child molester! A GAY child molester, which had to be worse, right? And saying all that hideous stuff about Julian being 'hot' for Tony. 'A sure thing' Wally called his own son.

Maybe Wally had gone crazy. Off his meds or something. Or maybe it was a practical joke. Though in all the years Tony had known Wally, he had never been crazy, malicious or a practical joker.

Wally's wife Martha was pretty enough. Surely, being Wally's wife, she was giving him lots of sex. All he wanted. That was the deal with marriage, right? So why was Wally even thinking about the idea of sex with boys.

Being single, Tony knew it was now believed to be officially OK to think about sex with boys. Things had changed in recent years and lots of men and boys 'dated', Tony knew.

He thought it was disgusting.

Mostly.

Though he had felt a twinge in his cock now and then when a pretty boy flirted with him. Which had happened more than once.

Still 3;

Sex with Julian?!?!?

With his father's blessing?!?!?!

Julian was a very cute boy, no doubt about that.

Slim. With red hair and the cutest mask of freckles. Almost pretty. No, actually pretty.

Had Julian actually told his father that he wanted to 'date' Tony?

And on that 'date', did Julian expect to be kissed by Tony? The way a man kisses a woman?

And was Wally implying that things would go beyond kissing?

Far beyond kissing?

Ohhhh!!!

Wrong, wrong, wrong!

But it was still a very generous offer. One that he should at least acknowledge. And partially 3; very partially 3; accept.

"Well, thanks for the offer, but I could never date Julian, Wally. If he wants to go to the movies this afternoon, though, I could take him. I mean, he and I have been friends all his life."

Thus the journey to complete sissyboy debauchery began with a single step.

Wally smiled. "You can pick him up at two o'clock."

Two – Let's all go to the movies

Tony regretted his acceptance of Wally's offer the instant he made it, of course.

And every cell in his body was telling him even taking Julian to the movies was a bad idea.

Yet, there he was at the Headturners' door at precisely two p.m.

Shaking with fear. At the fetid pool into which he was being forced to dip his toe.

Tony was NOT gay! And he was NOT a boylover.

Though he had to admit that the sight of Julian was appealing.

To that ridiculously small segment of the population who finds gorgeous, 11-year-old, redheaded sissyboys appealing.

Good gravy, Julian was amazingly pretty. And dressed to thrill in micro-shorts, tiny tee and toe-displaying sandals.

Best of all, the boy's smile was nuclear. He was elated to be with Tony. And made no effort to conceal his joy.

Julian flung himself at Tony. Hugging him. "Oh, Mr. Spearbum! I'm so happy we'll be going to see 'Trying'. I've been wanting to see it so bad, but it's not a movie you see alone."

Tony patted the boy on the back. And tried to get Julian to unhug.

Was that a woodie the boy was rubbing against Tony?

Tony used enough gentle force to separate them.

At which moment, Wally appeared. "Don't forget your stuff, Julian," he said, as he handed Julian a small, pink overnight bag.

Pink?

Overnight bag?

"Have a good time you two," Wally said to the both of them.

"Thanks, Daddy," Julian said, as the impatient boy pulled Tony toward his car.

Wally stepped up to Tony and said, softly, into Tony's ear, "He has to be at school by 8:30 Monday morning. Just make sure he gets there walking under his own power, OK?"

That was 42-and-a-half hours from then. Was Wally truly crazy?

Julian certainly seemed crazy in love.

For reasons Tony could scarcely fathom, he started treating Julian like a true 'date'. He opened the car door for the boy. Made sure he fastened his seatbelt. Then took off for the movie theater. Tony sensed that Julian wanted to rip off his seatbelt, sit on Tony's lap and surrender his body to the man right then.

Which Tony did not want.

Though he did find himself sneaking a peek or two at Julian's long, hairless legs as they drove.

Nice.

He would take the kid to the movies, buy him popcorn, take him home and that would be that. Like any good uncle.

They arrived at the movie lot and parked. Tony got out and opened the door for Julian. He watched the smiling, excited boy get out, legs first.

Nice.

Walking from the lot to the theater, Julian would not be denied. He clung to Tony as they walked.

A little embarrassing. But stimulating too. For both of them.

Were people looking at them?

Uh, no. Not really.

Tony bought the tickets and noted that it was the first time he had ever paid kiddie price for his date.

Was 'Trying' really on eight of the multiplex's 12 screens?

It must have been really pop 3;

Holy testosterone! The lobby 3;

Filled with men and their boy 'dates'!

Fifty couples, at least. Buying popcorn. Hugging. Kissing. Unashamed.

No wonder no was watching Tony and Julian hug as they entered the theater.

Had the world changed that much?

Apparently so.

Tony tried not to look at all the steamy goings-on around him. There were no exposed cocks in evidence, but he was pretty sure that they would be out once the lights went down in the theater.

Maybe he should just take Julian home. Tell him and his Daddy that Tony had a migraine.

But the kid was so excited. He liked the kid a lot. And he didn't want to disappoint him.

So into the theater he and Julian went, along with fifty or so other 'odd couples'.

Tony and Julian settled into their seats in the middle of the theater, end of the row. Tony didn't want to sit in the last row, where all the pervs would sit. This was better.

The theater went dark and the coming attractions trailers began.

Oh my.

Was that what he would be dealing with over the next 98 minutes?

It was an ad for an imminent release called Daddy and his Boys. It showed clip after tantalizing clip of three beautiful boys, apparently aged around nine, ten and eleven, being anally fornicated by a beastly, hairy man whom they called 'Daddy'.

Hadn't Tony read that the makers of 'Trying', the movie he was about to see, had been super-cautious about things? They originally wanted to call it 'Try Boys', but were afraid that such a 'provocative' title would get the movie an NC-17 rating. Which meant that no one under 17 could attend. Killing the movie.

They had also been careful about the sex. Making 'Trying' a romance of awakening for a man realizing he loved a boy, rather than a fuckfest. As such there were only a modest three acts of man-on-boy fellatio, four boy-on-man, and a mere three all-out fucks. In their biggest Hollywood sellout, they made the boy 16 years old! Though with makeup and a body shave, he looked younger.

Soon, like in three or four weeks, 'Trying' would be looked at as a relic of a gentler age. Smelling success, Hollywood rushed to copy it. Grinding out movies with boys as young as eight and non-stop sex acts.

'Trying' had avoided any hint of incest. There were twelve movies in production with 'Daddy' in the title.

Still, those nastier films were later. 'Trying' was now.

It began with a montage of disappointment for the movie's 35-year-old hero, who was a well-known Hollywood star. Women nagged, manipulated and emasculated him at every turn. And then he met 'Skippy' in the park.

The boys in the audience swooned as Skippy seduced the hero, just as many of them had seduced the men embracing them at that moment.

Many cocks were extracted in the audience, of course, as Skippy first surrendered to the hero. The boy on screen and the boys in the audience reveled in the erotic toe-kissing that began the intimacy between the two.

Despite his best intentions, Tony saw himself in the show's thirtysomething star. That was exactly how women had treated him. Had women also treated all the other guys in the audience like that?

Probably.

The men had all turned to boys as a viable, even desirable alternative, hadn't they?

Apparently.

So why didn't he 3;

Oh my!

Julian was unzipping Tony's pants. In public. Wrong, wrong, wrong.

He had to tell Julian to stop.

But then Julian had Tony's cock out. It was painfully stiff!

Why?

He had to tell Julian to stop.

Julian looked at Tony and smiled. As if he were giving the man one more opportunity to say 'stop'.

But no such word was emitted.

Only a manly moan when Julian leaned over and consumed Tony's leaky knob with his beautiful mouth.

Oh!!!!!!!!!

Where did that young beauty learn to suck cock like that?

In his whole life, Tony had never 3;

Oh!

Julian had never been happier. At last, he was sucking Mr. Spearbum's prick – an activity that he had dreamed of for as long as he could remember. Daddy had been so sweet about letting Julian 'practice' his cocksucking skills on the paternal penis. And three or four of his friends at school became even closer friends when they kissed, licked and sucked each other's boy's things.

But this was the real thing. The man of his dreams succumbing to Julian's beauty and charm.

It was all so exciting. And soon, perhaps within two or three hours, Julian and Mr. Spearbum would be [blush] fucking!

Julian was sure of it. And scared by it.

He was, after all, a blushing anal virgin. Unknown by man 'back there'. Though had Julian given Daddy just a smidgie of encouragement, Julian would have missed the pleasure of giving his greatest gift, his virginity, to the man he often thought of as 'Uncle Tony'.

Oh. The man was losing control of his creamies. Julian was sure of it. So the boy capped the knob with his whole mouth and closed off escape for the million or so 'fugitives' from his man's hairy balls.

Tony wanted to hold back. He shouldn't be cumming into the mouth of his best friend's eleven-year-old son. Kind of a rule of thumb for life.

But the boy wanted him so badly. And Tony wanted Julian.

Tony heard a man in the row behind them grunt loudly. Was he cumming into his date's mouth too?

It was all so upside-down, crazy-awesome that Tony couldn't hold back and he ERUPTED into Julian's sweet mouth!

Creamy lava blasted the boy's tonsils. But the well-homeschooled lad swallowed it all, even as he was sucking and massaging Tony's ball bag and squeezing out the last drop.

The boy continued his cock adoration until the last pang had quieted in Tony's gut.

At which point, Tony drew Julian to his lips for a long, tongue-filled, grateful kiss.

It had been the best orgasm of Tony's life.

And he wanted more.

Suddenly, the film, where the star and the boy were wrapped in a slurpy, creamy sixty-nine, was of no further interest to the couple. Tony zipped up his pants and led Julian out of the theater. They got into the car and kissed like 'teens at Lookout Point' for a good ten minutes. With no looking out for nosy passers-by.

Tony wanted Julian and he wasn't ashamed of it.

Well, maybe a little. Because shame made it dirtier. And dirtier was better.

Tony set a new land speed record getting Julian to his condo, where he grabbed the boy, who was holding his pink suitcase, then kissed Julian all the way to his bedroom.

Left to his sex-fever-driven impulses, Tony would have thrown the boy onto his bed, then pushed his cock directly up the boy's dry bumhole.

Ouch.

Thank goodness Julian had more sense.

"I'll be right back, Mr. Spearbum," the red-headed angel said to Tony. "I just need to tinkle."

Tony felt a rush of separation anxiety as Julian grabbed his bag and scooted to the bathroom. Locking the door behind him.

Good golly! Was Tony falling in love?

That was foolish. It would never work. Would it?

He'd better close the windows in case Julian was a screamer. Oh, he hoped the boy was a screamer. That meant the boy loved the way Tony was making love to him, right?

What was taking Julian so long in the bathroom?

Actually, Julian wasn't tinkling at all. He was unpacking. His toothbrush and school clothes for Monday were on top. He set those aside.

Ah. There was the tube of Spermbutt anal lubricant. 'Orgy' size. That should be enough for the weekend. Thank goodness there was an all-night sissy-supply store a few blocks away if they ran out. And the store delivered.

There they were. His [blush] 'arousal aids'.

Daddy bought them for Julian for his first weekend with a man.

"You'll need to ease Mr. Spearbum into this whole man-boy thing," wise Daddy had said. "These should help."

Julian was pretty sure Daddy was right.

Three pretty lingerie sets. Of the ultra-naughty variety. Each with a nightie that barely covered his nipples and so sheer they barely existed; matching, thigh-high, ultra-sheer, stay-up stockings; and very naughty panties that had a lewd opening in the back that exposed their wearer's anus.

Julian considered the emerald-green set. It went best with his red hair, but it just didn't look right when he'd tried it on earlier. Pink with red hair wasn't optimal either.

Black it would be. The other two he could change into when Mr. Spearbum's spear started to sag. So that Mr. Spearbum could think he was fucking someone new.

Oh my. Rolling those stockings up his hairless legs felt SO good! And the anally-open panties showed the man just where to put his cock. The nightie was the final, girlie touch. Just right for a recovering heterosexual like Mr. Spearbum.

And so, young Julian Headturner was ready to be fucked. He grabbed the big bottle of the 'sissyboy's best friend,' took a deep breath, and opened the door.

Julian would treasure that look on Mr. Spearbum's face forever.

It was a look of awe and raw need.

The exact look a boy seeks from his man.

Right before his man fucks him.

Tony berated himself for all his foolish apprehensions about fucking young Julian. To not fuck that magnificent piece of tail would be a crime against humanity.

The lingerie was exactly what Tony wished his women had worn all his life. But only women paid to wear that stimulating stuff seemed to wear it.

[Sigh]

Enough thinking about women. Tony had someone far better twelve feet away.

"Come to me, Baby," Tony said.

Julian dropped the Spermbutt bottle and sissyran to Tony's naked lap.

And saw Mr. Spearbum's cock in broad daylight for the first time.

It was a very nice one indeed. Thick, tall and veined. With a nicely skinned knob. The rest of Tony pleased Julian as well. He had a hairy chest, not a hairy back. His balls were fat and hairy, but not 'furry'. And he was in very good physical shape.

Tony liked the parts of Julian that he was seeing for the first time too. Though small in stature, he was tall in cock for a boy his age. Nearly six inches! Though much thinner than Tony's beastly monster.

Everything about Julian was cute and pretty.

And fuckable.

The man kissed the boy and tongued the inside of his mouth ravenously.

Julian moaned deeply as the man caressed the boy's cock.

Feeling the boy's pleasure swell it hotly.

Tickling Julian's ball sack. Making the lad gasp with lust.

The boy squirmed and squealed as Tony lifted the boy's black mininightie with his nose and kissed his sissy titties.

It was bed time.

Both on their backs at first. Kissing. Licking. Toying with each other's most intimate places.

The man found the boy's anus with his busy fingers. Not entering it at first. Just rubbing the outside.

But that was apparently all that the sweet boy's nutsack could endure.

With the cutest squeak, Julian spunked his pretty guts out.

Which pleased Mr. Spearbum no end.

He had made the young lovely cum. No faking it, the way a woman could.

That was genuine Grade A boy's cream. A good pint of it.

And more to follow if Mr. Spearbum had anything to say about it.

"Did you like that, Pretty Baby?" Mr. Spearbum aked.

Julian could only nod and whimper affirmatively.

The boy apparently loved 'anal'.

Tony had wanted to 'do anal' all his life. But had been looking for anal in all the wrong places. In women's bottoms.

Perhaps it was his hetero past that summoned his next impulse. Perhaps it was just that the boy's asshole was so pink and delicious looking.

Tony flipped Julian onto his stomach, knelt on either side of the boy's knees and separated the perfect bum cheeks with his thumbs. Exposing Julian's wrinkled treasure to the man's lust-crazed gaze.

Tony wasn't just gazing.

He'd always enjoyed cunnilingus. So intimate. And he loved making women gasp and cum from his largesse. Then waited for proper restitution that never came.

How different could analingus be?

Tony decided to find out.

He leaned forward and gave Julian's bottomhole a tentative lick.

Delicious.

And gasp-inducing from the boy.

Tony entered the boy with his rude tongue. Making the boy raise his torso and squeal with happiness.

Enchanted by the man so drawn to Julian that he was licking up his anal juices from his most intimate place.

It was so exciting. The man was demonstrating his love for Julian in a way that words never could.

Julian was overcome by erotic sensation and conjecture.

The perfect precursor to a powerful spunking.

And so it was.

In spectacular, sheet-drenching fashion.

Two for the boy. One for the man.

So far.

Time to change that.

Tony withdrew his tongue. He heard Julian grunt out, "Spermbutt. The bottle. Fingers. Please."

Spermbutt?

Oh. That stuff.

Tony had seen the ads on TV. The boy, having just been lovingly bumfucked, shows his cream-leaking asshole to the camera and says, "That was awesome, Daddy! And so smooth and painless. Spermbutt is the sissyboy's best friend!"

But he hadn't paid much attention to them.

Something about "just enough friction, just enough glide."

Time to test it out.

Tony squeezed an ample portion onto three fingers on his right hand. Then entered the boy with those Spermbutted fingers.

Running his fingers all over the boy's insides. Loving the grunts and whimpers he was engendering. Then he struck gold.

One place he touched inside Julian was making the boy's eyes get very wide. And filled them with tears.

It was almost as if he were torturing the boy. And the boy loving the torture.

Tony reasoned rightly that if his fingers felt that good to Julian, well, his cock would feel that much better.

Time to find out.

He'd opened Julian up about as much as he could. And the boy was two up on him on orgasms. With a third apparently forthcoming.

Time to fuck.

Tony slathered a goodly portion of Spermbutt onto his needy cock and considered his last real decision of that spectacular day.

On Julian's back or on his stomach?

The back was better, if he could manage it. Kissing while fucking is very nice, after all.

Julian eagerly moved onto his back when Mr. Spearbum directed him into a favorable position.

The boy knew his time had come. And was eager to consummate their powerful lust.

Mr. Spearbum kissed Julian sweetly as he rubbed his lubed peelips against the boy's wrinkle.

Teasing him.

Making him whimper and beg to be fucked.

And what man doesn't enjoy that, eh?

At last, Tony entered Julian.

With two sharp thrusts.

Which hurt Julian in ways that no Spermbutt commercial would ever address.

Boys don't scream like that on TV.

Good thing Tony had closed the windows. Or the neighborhood watch would have calling the police to report a banshee family domestic disturbance.

Once in, Tony loved where he was. It was hotter and tighter than any pussy.

And if Julian survived, he would probably like it too.

Would Julian survive?

It was touch and go.

So this was fucking, Julian thought. It was more like having one's asshole impaled with a molten stake at that point. Maybe not that bad, but ouch, OK?

But as the milliseconds passed, things felt better in Julian's guts.

Until the boy realized that Mr. Spearbum's cock felt better against his prostate than his fingers had. Or even [blush] Daddy's fingers.

When Mr. Spearbum began his serious rubbing, every stroke was a delight.

Taking Julian exactly where he needed to go.

A place of paralyzing ecstasy.

The same place that Mr. Spearbum was going apparently.

They got there together.

Burning. Flaming.

Together.

Grunting and squealing as their sperm nourished each other.

In love forever.

In the new, better world of Try Boys.

Try Boys – Twelve: The Best of Times

Blake Bumrider (27yo) and Max Finebum & Holden Nutbutter (11yo)

For 27-year-old Blake Bumrider, it seemed the worst of times.

What was the point of working his ass off through college, only to get a job and lose it in the downturned economy? Soon after his layoff, Blake's fiancée Rita decided that love was nice and everything, but she wasn't marrying some unemployed loser.

Rita had been right to leave him a year earlier, Blake decided. He was a loser. A loser who, despite Herculean efforts, hadn't found a job, and would soon run out of unemployment compensation.

[Sigh]

Coming home from yet another fruitless job interview, Blake decided to walk through his local park, sit on a bench and contemplate his future. However bleak it might be. Blake was bleak.

Blake was on the bench woe-is-meing it up for five minutes or so when something disturbed his misery.

Blake knew the park well, thus had selected a bench in a low-traffic area. Only one other bench was nearby. And very few passers-by reached that part of the park.

So Blake was a bit miffed that someone would interrupt his gloom.

Until he saw the gloombreakers.

Oh my.

Two young boys. Aged about 11.

At least Blake thought they were boys.

They were quite pretty and their hair was a bit lengthy for most boys. Plus, they didn't really move like boys. More like girls. But not quite.

They were giggling too as they tossed a red ball back and forth. Did boys their age giggle?

Despite himself, Blake watched the lovely lads. Thinking innocent thoughts about his carefree youth. Not prurient thoughts.

Blake had vaguely noticed that over the past two years that some men, perverts, mostly, had begun 'dating' boys. Fucking them more than likely. Openly! Which Blake would never do. Being hetero and all that. Plus, it wouldn't be right.

What was the name of all that nonsense? 'Try Boys' or something like that. And that dumb mantra: "Tired of the nagging, the manipulation and the emasculation? Try boys."

What baloney.

Still 3;

Those two boys throwing the ball were awfully pretty.

Blake wondered vaguely whether either of them had ever dated a man. Then dismissed the thought from his mind as ridiculous and evil. Just as he'd been taught in parochial school about 'impure thoughts'. They were a sin. Like 'thought crime' in Orwell's '1984'.

Blake remembered that one must avoid the 'occasion of sin'. So he decided that he was going to leave the area, go home and 3;

Wait 3;

The boys had stopped playing ball and were sitting on the park bench opposite Blake.

Giving Blake a better view of them. And their evident beauty. Very evident.

The blond boy's lovely face was framed with soft curls. Like Rita's was on the few days she would make an effort to pretty herself for Blake. The blond and his equally gorgeous brunet friend were wearing only the skimpiest of shorts, showing evil-thought-producing amounts of leg. Tiny tee shirts and strappy sandals that showed their delicious toes.

Hold it.

Had Blake just characterized boys' toes as delicious?

It was all the stress of the past year. Mushing up his brain. He wasn't attracted to the boys at all. Time to go.

Huh?

Oh, no!

The two angelic demons were embracing! And then, [gasp] kissing!!!

Deep, tongue-filled, wet kisses!!

Openly! In public!

Though the only audience was Blake.

Who was quivering like a leaf in a hurricane.

Two beautiful, openly gay boys were kissing right in front 3;

Agggghhhh!!!

Blondie had reached into Brunet's pants. His hand was in his friend's pants as they kissed. Brunet was gasping and moaning with pleasure as Blondie kissed him and, obviously, stroked Brunet's cock.

Time to go.

Feet, do your stuff. Move it.

But Blake couldn't pull away as the situation 'deteriorated' even further.

Both boys had extracted each other's cocks from the other's pants. Beautiful little pricks breathing free air in public.

Two tiny, boy penises, stiff and proud. Being stroked and caressed as Blake watched in horrified terror.

The boys were lost in lust. Squeaking softly in lewd appreciation as each boy's lover adored his mouth and cock.

Should Blake run? Of course. Run now! Go ahead!

But no.

Blake watched as first Blondie, then Brunet shot thick wads of their sperm and semen all over themselves and each other.

Squealing in an agony of delight as their lust overtook them.

It was the single most terrifying moment of Blake's life.

Blake sat frozen as he watched the boys descend from Mount Orgasm. Kisses trailing off. Cocks softening. Sperm leaking sweetly from droopy heads.

Then, another surprise 3;

Blondie seemed to notice Blake for the first time. The young beauty recoiled in embarrassment. Which alerted Brunet to Blake's presence.

Which scared Blake even more.

Could he be arrested for watching underage boys kissing and masturbating to creamy climax?

Would a policeman, if he (or she) walked by at that moment, believe Blake when he said he was an innocent peepstander?

Blondie gave a squeak of surprise. Then tears filled his pretty eyes.

Could the young lovelies be more afraid of Blake than he was of them?

"Oh, Mister. We're so sorry. Max and I are so much in love. Sometimes we forget about everything around us. Please don't tell on us. Please!"

Blake managed to choke out, "I would never rat you out. I was just surprised."

That made the boys back off from the cliff a bit. Brunet let his breath out and said, "Oh, thank you, Mister. My name is Max Finebum and this is my best friend forever and ever, Holden Nutbutter. What's your name, Mister?"

Blake thought that was a pretty fast recovery from mortal fear. But no way was Blake telling the boys anything about himself. He didn't care one thing about all that Try Boys nonsense either. He would just pick himself up and 3;

"Blake. Blake Bumrider. Blake."

Where did that come from. Blake hadn't intended to say anything.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Bumrider," Max said, smiling sweetly. Matched only by Holden's dazzling smile.

Oh no. Blake's cock was stiff!

Wrong, wrong, wrong!!!

Blake was pretty sure that the boys noticed the man's pants tentage.

Was he being seduced?

Only if he let himself be seduced. And that wasn't happening.

"You're nice, Mr. Bumrider," Holden said. "But we have a problem. Max, you got me so excited, we shot our boy's cream all over each other. We can't go home like this."

"You're right," Max sobbed. "Our daddies will spank us. What will we do?"

Holden turned on the waterworks too. "I don't want another spanking. I'm a good boy. Mostly. If only we could wash our clothes and dry them before we went home. In a washer and dryer. Where we could wash and dry them. Before we went home. So we wouldn't be spanked."

Both boys looked at Blake with tear-filled eyes. Wondering whether Blake had gotten the hint.

Blake noted that neither boy had made the least effort to cover up his drooling, cum-soaked cock.

Was he being seduced?

Only if he allowed himself to be. And he was allowing no such 3;

"I have a washer and dryer. And I only live two blocks from here."

Why was Blake saying stupid thing after stupid thing?

Maybe because his cock was hard and his brain had been softened by the sight of Max and Holden.

Regardless, Max and Holden were delighted with what Blake was saying.

"Oh, thank you, Mr. Bumrider!" the squealing sissies chorused as they hugged Blake. And smeared their cum all over his pants and shirt.

Neither boy, it seemed, had thought to tuck away his cock, or otherwise wipe up his boy's cream.

So the CSI team that investigated Blake's growing list of felonies and near-felonies would have DNA to convict him. Not to mention all the people who, in the two-block walk to Blake's home, would see two boys and a man – all covered with sperm – walking purposefully toward further spermage.

Was Blake ready to cut his losses? Listen to reason? Stop thinking with his cock?

Of course not.

Blake was a man.

And two superlative sexual specimens were all but begging for Blake to inseminate all their orifices.

Orifice insemination being the ultimate biological imperative, what man could resist?

Not Blake.

Blake did make one bow to grown-up common sense. "You're welcome, boys. I certainly wouldn't want two sweet, lovely boys like you being spanked merely for 3;uh 3;expressing your love. But, please, zip up before we walk to my place, OK?"

Max blushed. Then looked at his circumcised cock and said, "You're right. I forgot it was out. You too, Holden. [Giggle]"

Holden blushed too. And both lads regained a scintilla of modesty. Except for the big cumstains in incriminating places, one would have thought the boys were returning from the park. With their young uncle.

Except for the cum stains. On all three of them. And the boys' insistence on gratefully holding Blake's hand as they walked. And the boys' insistence on swaying their delicious bums most suggestively as they walked.

There was no route that would take them to Blake's without seeing anyone.

Darn it.

Blake gritted his teeth when he saw a group of six retired men playing chess and just chatting.

They would see what was going on and call the police! Blake was sure of it!

Too late to run.

Maybe if he and the boys just went quietly by, the seniors wouldn't notice them.

Fat chance of two pretty prickteasers like Max and Holden escaping notice anywhere.

All six men stopped what they were doing to gaze at Max and Holden. With hardly a glance at Blake.

Were Blake's eyes malfunctioning or did he see lumps in the old guys' pants?

Just keep walking, Blake thought. But the boys, of course, gave the oldtimers million-watt smiles as they went by. And each young beauty held onto Blake's arm. Making no mistake that they were Blake's "property." At least for that moment in time.

If Blake just kept walking, maybe the men wouldn't say anything.

No way.

"You hit the jackpot today, young fella," said Oldtimer #1.

"Yeah. Don't injure yourself and drink plenty of fluids," chuckled Oldtimer #2.

Which was followed by a round of good-natured, not derisive, guy chuckles.

Was it true? Had Blake hit the jackpot? Was he no longer the loser he had made himself out to be?

That hypothesis was sorely tested moments later, after Blake and his pretty entourage passed the old fellas and left the park, only to run smack into a patrolling POLICE CAR!!!

The policeman stopped the car in front of Blake, Max and Holden. The cop got out of the car and was moving toward Blake.

Blake was almost peeing his pants with fear. He hadn't committed any crimes yet, but he knew he'd be arrested for the crimes he appeared to have committed. And the further crimes he was obviously contemplating.

At any moment, the officer would slam Blake onto the hood of the police car, cuff Blake, call him all sorts of a pervert, and take him to the slammer.

But no.

The cop was smiling. Tipping his cap to Blake and saying, "Well, it's somebody's lucky day! Enjoy yourself, guys. And sir, if you need help with that double duty of yours, just call 9-1-1 and ask for Officer O'Finnnegan. I'll be by to help you in a flash. Have a nice day, sir."

It was official.

The world had mutated while Blake was caught up in his own problems.

It was clear to Blake as well, that he seemed to have hit the mother lode of the new world.

Two delicious, sex-hungry boys eager to please Blake in every way. And instead of the world being disapproving of Blake, the world appeared to be, well, jealous of him.

Blake picked up his step. Only one block to his home. The boys were clinging lovingly to each of the man's arms. Until Holden stopped the caravan and asked: "May I please have ten dollars, Mr. Bumrider? We need something in this bodega. I'll be right back."

Warily, Blake gave Holden the money. What was that all about?

No matter. Four minutes later, Holden emerged from the bodega carrying a medium-sized paper bag and sporting a nicely-tented pair of shorts.

The three walked the last block very quickly.

Inside, the boys assessed Blake's condo. Purchased when he was employed, through dangerously stretching his diminished budget.

"Nice place, Mr. Bumrider," Max said. Holden agreed. It was true.

At that particular moment of truth, Blake was still a bit clueless. Should he take the boys to his bedroom and then 3;

"Where's your laundry room, Mr. Bumrider?" Holden asked. "We need to wash and dry our clothes."

That snapped Blake back. Of course. Washing the clothes was the thin pretext that brought the three together in Blake's condo.

Or was it a pretext? Maybe washing clothes was just washing clothes. And all of Blake's naughty notions had been just wishful thinking.

Blake pointed at the washer and the boys took it from there.

The two young beauties stripped off ALL their clothes except for [gasp] their panties!

Blake hadn't seen the panties in the park.

He saw them in his laundry room. And they were dazzling.

Holden was wearing 'sweet and low' hiphugger panties in a color the catalog described as "pomegranate" and Max was wearing pink prickteasers in a style called 'cheeky' that revealed the bottom third of his bottomcheeks.

Max and Holden were true sissyboys. Blake didn't doubt that. But just because they stripped to their panties didn't mean 3;

Oh!

Panties were down!!

And in the wash!!!

The boys were naked and their cocks were standing straight up in full arousal.

What many would characterize as 'a sign'.

Just in case Blake didn't see it as such, Holden said, "I think your clothes need laundering too, Mr. Bumrider."

Blake stuffed his clothes into the washer, added the wrong amount of detergent, put everything on the wrong cycle at the wrong temperature and fired up the machine.

He was naked. And erect.

The boys were naked. And erect.

Blake took a deep breath and squelched his one last fear.

That he wouldn't be man enough for the both of them. Even though he was 27, randy as a stag in the springtime, and he hadn't had sex since Rita.

He had only fucked Rita more than once in a sex session on two occasions. Which had been her call. Not his. He had wanted more each time.

So Blake had no idea of his capacity for fuckishness.

He was eager to find out.

Holden grabbed the mysterious bag he had purchased at the bodega and asked, "Where's your bedroom, Mr. Bumrider?"

Blake grabbed each boy's hand and led them to their fate. And Blake's.

Blake was glad that he had made the bed – even changing the sheets – that morning. Though it wouldn't have mattered to Max and Holden. They enjoyed sex with nice men whether the men had good hygiene or not.

The boys had seen Blake in the park several times in recent weeks, figured he was unemployed, but didn't condemn him for it. They weren't looking for a sugar daddy. Just a sperm daddy.

Max decided that Blake would be their next conquest. Holden went along, of course.

They had conquered six men thus far. And four of the men were still on the boys' A-list.

A very good list to be on.

Blake was to be the lucky seventh man. Though having had their first look at Blake's naked body, the boys were thinking of themselves as the lucky ones.

Blake was younger than their other manly conquests. And both hunkier and hungier.

Approaching double-digit inches hungier.

How stupid this prize bull's girlfriends had been to let him drift away, Max thought.

And how smart the sissyboys were to corral the bull for their own naughty pleasures.

Blake lay on his back in bed and held his arms open to invite the boys to join him.

Max and Holden responded to the RSVP with alacrity. Max on Blake's right; Holden on his left.

Max offered his mouth for a kiss and Blake committed the first gay act of his life. A long, blazing hot, tongue kiss with the beautiful Max.

Other gay acts followed. Wow, did they follow.

Holden took the initiative a bit, diving his lovely blond head into Blake's crotch as Blake kissed Max.

Holden couldn't get all of Blake's huge stiffie into his mouth, but he made an outstanding effort.

Blake moaned through his delicious kisses with Max. And, calling upon an instinct he barely recognized, entered Max's exquisite bottomhole with a wary finger. Then another. Making Max moan back.

Blake was being simultaneously kissed and sucked by two of the earth's most beautiful beings. A glance at Holden's blond curls covering Blake's pubic region almost sent Blake over the top.

Then Holden entered Blake's bottomhole with his fingers as he sucked his man off.

Wow!

Rita had never done that.

Rita never would.

In fact, Rita's list of never-dos was quite a long one.

Holden had no such list.

He found his man's prostate and taught it a lesson. As his tongue lavished love on Blake's appreciative, skinned knob.

Blake found Max's prostate as he awoke young Mr. Finebum's fine bum.

Max was squealing little squeals. Like the ones he had squealed on the park bench – when he was kissing and stroking Holden.

The lustmeter reached the red part of the dial. And Max shot his stuff all over Blake's hairy stomach.

Blake felt the first jet of sperm hit his flesh and that was the spark that ignited the forest fire.

At least for one thick trunk.

Blake tried to warn Holden that he was shooting sperm. Rita would have been furious to feel icky sperm inside her mouth.

Holden gulped it down like a starving wolverine.

Oh!

The air was thick with sexual heat as Blake shuddered through a spunktaculer sperm spasm.

Blake arched his back as he orgasmed, heaving his cream so violently that the boys feared for his life.

They had no reason to fear. Though Blake's old life died at that moment. And a better life emerged,

So four of the lovers' six testicles had been emptied. Which left Holden unfulfilled.

But not for long.

"Did you like that, Mr. Bumrider," the sweet little catamite Holden half-lisped.

"It was the best moment of my life, boys. Thank you so much. I want to make you both as happy as I am. What can I do?"

Max and Holden looked at each other and smiled. Then at Blake. "We want you to fuck us, Mr. Bumrider," Max said. "First Holden. Then me. In our bottoms. It's the most fun there is. You'll see. Will you DO us, Mr. Bumrider?'

It was a question, Blake surmised of COULD Mr. Bumrider muster two woodrows powerful enough to fuck those bottoms. Assuming he could figure out how to do that.

Blake had never had anal sex. No woman he knew would even discuss it. And two fucks in one session was all he had tried. All the women wanted to do after fuck #1 was cuddle and talk about their feelings.

Neither cuddling nor feelings-talk has been proven to be an effective means of testicle evacuation.

Time to move outside the comfort zone to the forbidden zone.

"I'll do you as many times as I can do you boys. But you'll have to help me 3; Wait. What was in that bag you bought at the bodega?"

Giggling, Holden opened the bag and produced a half-gallon of Spermbutt Anal Lubricant. The sissyboy's best friend.

Max and Holden may not have been scouts, but they were prepared.

Blake had never used anal lubricant, but he had a pretty good idea of its uses and means of application.

But just to be sure, he applied some to both boys at once.

Max and Holden knelt side by side on all fours on the bed. Blake stood behind them and, with cock already at half-staff, used the fingers of both hands to rub soothing Spermbutt Anal Lubricant all over the insides of the pretty boys' pink bumholes.

How delicious it was to watch them squirm in delight as Blake took such rude liberties.

When the boys began to kiss as they were being lubricated and dilated, Blake was fully erect. As were Max and Holden.

Having done the trio thing before, the boys offered Blake an enchanting option.

Max sat against the headboard. Holden slid two pillows under his stomach and positioned himself so that he could take Max's pricklet between his loving lips. Presenting Blake full access to Holden's eager, ready asspussy.

Blake worried for an instant that he would hurt Holden, then dismissed it.

The boy wanted to be FUCKED. Blake was going to FUCK him.

Holden had never hosted such a rammer before, but Blake had prepared his bum well. And the heat-seeking missile found its target.

Blake was IN!

Never before 3;

So effing hot 3;

Oh!!!

Holden squealed in appreciation as Blake fucked him. Then applied his mouth to his lover's needs.

Three lust-drunk lovers grinding to heart-pounding climaxes.

Holden shot his stuff first. Perhaps because he hadn't spunked in round one. Though more likely that Mr. Bumrider's cock was quite the prize.

And so was Mr. Bumrider.

Having conquered his fears, the man loved sex with boys.

And the boys loved him.

Max heartily agreed with Holden's assessment of Mr. Bumrider when, after drenching Holden's bumhole with sperm, Mr. Bumrider rearranged the boys so that Max was fucking Holden's well-buttered bum as Mr. Bumrider assaulted Max with his deadly weapon.

Cuddling did in fact occur.

But only to allow the boys to recuperate.

Blake needed no such respite.

Things went so well that Max produced a cell phone and had this conversation:

"Hi, Daddy. Holden and I are at a nice man's house. Yes, Daddy. Our clothes are in the washer. Yes, Daddy. Oh, thank you, Daddy. You'll tell Holden's Daddy? Thanks, Daddy. I love you."

Max hung up and said, "My Daddy says we'd better make sure our clothes are really dry. So we'd better stay here overnight. If that's OK with you, Mr. Bumrider."

Those little devils. Saying their daddies would spank them if they came home with cum on their clothes.

The daddies were probably fucking these two as well.

Blake didn't care.

His cock was hard again and Holden was wiggling his ass at him.

The 'Try Boys' era is the best of times.

The End