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Subject: Shameless Sissyboys (gay adult-youth) Shameless Sissyboys (gay adult-youth) By Beautiful Creamer I don’t do this stuff and you shouldn’t either. What you should do is get vaccinated and contribute to fty. One — Brazen brothers Oh dear, Principal Rudolph Strictman thought as he watched the young Creampie brothers, Alex and Bobby, walk unashamedly through the halls of Littletown Middle School. Life hadn’t been the same at the school since the boys arrived three weeks earlier from Bigcity. And brought their Bigcity “values” with them. Hmmph. The boys weren’t just GAY! Mr. Strictman could have tolerated having two gay boys in his school. If they kept it all to themselves, dressed “normally,” acted “straight,” and didn’t do any gay sex things. Pretty much what the Catholic Church feels about “accepting” gay people. But those two degenerates, 12-year-old Alex and 11-year-old Bobby, seemed to be actually PROUD of being gay! The little creampuffs FLAUNTED their homosexuality. Acting as if they were even SUPERIOR in some ways to normal, natural, doctrinally-correct, real, mainstream, true-American people. Mr. Strictman kept a watchful eye on the Creampie brothers — making sure that they didn’t commit any truly gross miscarriages of polite society’s norms at his school. He was especially vigilant on the school day our story begins because the rumors had been flying around school that the Creampies had been seen KISSING other males!! Kissing! Males kissing males! And not just any males. Their classmates! Teachers!! And even their own father!!! Even Mr. Strictman disbelieved the rumors. No one, not even the Creampie brothers, would sink into such depravity. Mr. Strictman was sure of it. Still, the vigilant vigilante winced when he observed what those poor, sick, misguided boys were wearing that morng. Alex was wearing shorts so short and tight that they suggested the duality of his bum cheeks. And the shorts were PINK! He was wearing strappy sandals with a two-inch heel. Showing off his obviously pedicured toes. Imagine. A boy getting a pedicure. Then putting clear nail polish on his toenails. What must life be like in the big city? His younger brother Bobby’s shorts were even shorter. Mr. Strictman could see an inch or two of what appeared to be two pink, plump, firm bum cheeks. Disgusting. Wait. Oh no. It couldn’t be. It was happeng again. Mr. Strictman was getting an erection! At first, that indisputable physical fact disturbed the crusading moralist very much. But when he realized that he was aroused by his commitment to truth and goodness, not by any prurient interest in two sad, underage deviants. Which was, as you might imagine, a great relief. A relief he was able to consummate soon after his vigilance activities by ducking into his office’s private bathroom and stroking his rather large, very stiff pes to a well-earned reward for his dedication to and protection of the supremacy of heterosexuality. That morng, Mr. Strictman must have been feeling extra self-satisfied because he was outrageously stiff when he saw Bobby Creampie flash a blinding smile at big, hunky-for-his-age, 13-year-old, eighth-grader Kevin Wiseboy. Then, and I’m not making this up, Bobby took Kevin’s arm as they walked down the hall to Bobby’s first class of the day! Oh no! Kevin was gay?!?!?! Impossible. Kevin was a role model. A paragon of good, old-fashioned, red-blooded, heterosexuality and its unshakeable values. And he was allowing that, that, whatever-he-was to grab his manly arm? Were Kevin Wiseboy and Bobby Creampie a couple??? Were they sneaking away to some lurid make-out nest and kissing? [Well, yeah. And more too.] But kissing was all that Mr. Strictman’s brain could even conjecture. Everything else was cogtive dissonance. Mr. Strictman returned to his office that day with a limp pes and no intention of “rewarding” himself for his excellent work. What was happeng to the country he loved? Why had the scourge of the Creampie brothers been visited upon him, his school and his town? And how far would it go? Two — Pretty far Alex Creampie was delighted to see his younger brother Bobby take Kevin’s arm in public that morng. It was time that the two of them stopped being “sissyboys light” and started being fully themselves. Alex was pretty sure that the Constitution applied to Littletown just as it did in Bigcity. Especially the Twenty-Ninth Amendment that lowered the age of consent for boys to ten years and three months. If he and his brother consented, they could fuck and be fucked by anyone over the age of 10 and 3. And they liked to consent. Sooner or later, the extent of their consent would be widely known. But at the moment, most of the men and boys who were making Alex’s and Bobby’s lives interesting were afraid to advertise their good fortune. So far, Alex and Bobby had respected that. While making it known that the best carnal rewards would go to the brave. Like Kevin. For that coming ght, Bobby had granted Kevin an all-ght “sleep”over. Though there would be very little sleeping. Bobby had sucked Kevin’s cock to a creamy conclusion on two separate occasions, but Kevin was not granted further favors, such as fucking, ball-licking, analingus, prostate massage and other delights, until he showed Bobby some public respect. Kevin weighed his options and it was no contest. For the intense, ball-blistering pleasure of fucking Bobby, Kevin was willing to be labeled “one of them.” Reason suggested to Kevin that he would be the first of many “one of thems” as attitudes evolved and man’s primal need to empty his testicles won out over dumb-ass ideology. Alex was going for a somewhat bigger prize. He wanted to seduce and recruit someone whose evolution would move the commuty’s needle quickly and permanently. Alex wanted Mr. Strictman as a lover. And he wanted Mr. Strictman to let the world know that he was fucking Alex. Even though Alex was certainly at no loss for pes-access. He counted three boys and two men eager to impart pele friction on his prostate, but at the moment, they were all too timid to admit they were being deliciously fellated by a sissyboy. If it hadn’t been for Daddy, the poor boys wouldn’t be getting fucked at all!!! Alex noted with pleasure that his classmate, Eric Spermer, held the classroom door for Alex as the young beauty entered his English class. Eric opened his mouth to say something. Alex figured it was something such as “I would crawl through broken glass just to lick your ass, you gorgeous sissyboy,” or something romantic like that. Alex was sure of it. But the boys’ English teacher, Mr. Lovewell, interrupted by asking everyone to sit. Mr. Lovewell! Alex knew that Mr. Strictman was the strategic choice for a sissyboy revolution in Littletown, but Alex really wanted to spend a fuck-filled ght or two with Mr. Lovewell. He was dreamy! And during class over the past week, Alex couldn’t help noticing that the hunky man had great difficulty looking at anyone or anything other than Alex. At least that had been true until that morng’s class. Alex looked at Mr. Lovewell and Mr. Lovewell didn’t look back! Huh? Alex gave Mr. Lovewell a very seductive gaze and Mr. Lovewell didn’t even glance in Alex’s direction. Alex applied his forensic investigation techques and saw that Mr. Lovewell’s attention was on Eric. Eric! Which Alex diagnosed immediately. Mr. Lovewell wasn’t implying that Eric was dishier than Alex. No. Mr. Lovewell was looking at Eric because he and Eric had it going on. Aha! This was not an unexpected consequence to Alex and Bobby’s strategic plan to open the minds (and the bumholes) of Littletown’s males. Alex and Bobby, it seemed, knew they could be catalysts for long-suppressed, but seething-nonetheless sexual instinct to emerge and say, “Good morng, Littletown.”, Well. Eric could just HAVE Mr. Lovewell. His cock probably wasn’t that big anyway. And Alex had bigger fish to fry. Beginng with his lunchtime plans that very day. Three — Eric and Mr. Lovewell Eric was grateful to Alex and Bobby for their efforts to modify the staid environment of Littletown. Eric was as gay as Alex and Bobby but hadn’t been able to engender the cojones to step up and proclaim it. As such, poor Eric hadn’t even had a gay-sex experience yet. And he had just had his 12th birthday!! There was no doubt where he wanted to erase that blot on his life. Eric wanted Mr. Lovewell. Eric was so inexperienced that he was wary of making a move until he had a sign that Mr. Lovewell was gay. Of course, we sophisticates know that a man who considers himself the heterosexual’s heterosexual will still want to fuck a delicious young sissyboy. So the jury was still out on Mr. Lovewell’s “orientation.” Eric noticed how Mr. Lovewell looked at Alex and it convinced Eric that Mr. Lovewell was the right kind of oriental. Alex’s shamelessness was about to reorder the order in Littletown, Eric was sure of it. Mr. Lovewell appeared to be the potential “patient zero” of the new order. And the man’s goo-goo eyes at Alex convinced Eric that he had better jump in before Alex put another notch on his belt. While Eric hadn’t even taken the belt out of the package. So right after dismissal the previous afternoon, Eric had stopped by Mr. Lovewell’s classroom. And here’s what happened: “Good afternoon, Mr. Lovewell.” “Good afternoon, Eric. May I help you?” “Actually, Mr. Lovewell, I just wanted to tell you how much I’m enjoying your class. And tell you that I’m grateful. So grateful that I would do anything for you. Anything.” Wow! No missing that straight-down-the-middle pitch. “Anything!” [Gulp] Eric could tell in two ways that Mr. Lovewell had received the message. First, his upper lip was sweating. A cold sweat. Second, his cock was hard. Tent-the-pants hard. Eric almost pitied Mr. Lovewell. Eric was asking the man to give up his full heterosexuality — a condition that in his 32 years so far had reaped him 11 orgasms with three women, at a cost of $1,473.15 in dinners, and a boatload of nagging, mapulation and emasculation. Eric was also threateng Mr. Lovewell’s job. The Constitution may protect a love affair between Eric and Mr. Lovewell, but it wouldn’t protect Mr. Lovewell from that awful prude, Mr. Strictman. Somebody should do something about that Mr. Strictman character! Despite those nasty, potential potholes in the road to bliss, it was clear to Eric that he had scored a direct hit on Mr. Lovewell’s libido. Eric had made the first move. It appeared he would have to make the second as well. Appearances proved accurate, Mr. Lovewell was seated. Looking flushed with sexual anticipation, frightened, and confused. Removing ambiguity is the best medicine in such a situation. The pretty boy sat on the man’s lap, laid his hand on the man’s trouser-covered pes, and kissed him full on the mouth. A second move for the record books. Mr. Lovewell gasped. It was overwhelming. It was life-threateng. It was the most delightful moment of the handsome man’s life. And it was about to get better. Way better. Mr. Lovewell could have shoved Eric off his manly lap. Chastised the boy. Scolded him harshly. How dumb that would have been, eh? In for a penny, Mr. Lovewell wanted to pound Eric. He gave the pretty boy his tongue as he slid his hand into the back of Eric’s shorts. One problem with tight short-shorts. They look sexy but require some effort to take down. Unless, like Eric, you were wearing “Quick-Release” short shorts purchased for Eric at Sissy Boy World by Eric’s caring, but shy Daddy. Eric pushed a subtle button on his right hip and the shorts dropped faster than the stock market after the Fed raises interest rates. Oh dear. Were those PANTIES that the pretty boy was wearing? Oh dear. Oh dear. Mr. Lovewell had never been in the situation in which he was situated before. But he was pretty sure that if the boy on your lap, who is sucking your tongue as he fondles your cock through your pants, drops his drawers with unhesitating alacrity, and is wearing panties, he “wants IT!” Mr. Lovewell wanted IT too. All of IT. He wasn’t getting all of IT that day. Even Eric realized the possible implications of someone walking in on them as Mr. Lovewell was fucking a bent-over-the-desk Eric. So the lovely lad just shucked down his panties, stepped out of them, made sure Mr. Lovewell got a good look at his little, red-headed best friend, and slid under Mr. Lovewell’s desk. Eric was on his knees. Pulling at Mr. Lovewell’s pants. Frantic to get them down and off. The equally frantic man lifted his bottom and pulled his pants to his knees. Exposing his jewelry to a boy who seemed eager to suck him to paradise. Right on that “seemed.” Eric situated himself so that he could make eye contact with his man as he fellated him. The desk hid the boy completely from anyone who would open the classroom door. So, if, say Mr. Strictman popped his head in to say something to Mr. Lovewell, Mr. Strictman would only see Mr. Lovewell at his desk, face contorted in fellatric ecstasy Would Mr. Strictman know what that looked like? Probably not. So on with the delicious cocksucking. Urgency in cocksucking inspires heat. The lovers were quite hot. But urgency in cocksucking also inspires quick ejaculation. Which is sometimes required by the situation. But dimishes the intensity of the blast. Mr. Lovewell half-considered all that as he winced in erotic agony and tried unsuccessfully to hold back his cumstorm. The situation was just too dangerous. And sexy. Mostly sexy. So against his will to last longer, the man sploogied the boy’s pretty mouth after only three minutes and 44 seconds of oral delight. The man was rapturous. In love. And discouraged by his performance. Eric was not. He was not letting a little thing like being exposed as a little cocksucking sissyboy ruin his good time. The lovely lad captured almost the entirety of Mr. Lovewell’s love load in his mouth. And, taking his time, used the man’s own sperm to tongue-bathe the man’s testicles! The Force was with young Cockwalker that day. Being testically tongue-bathed with one’s own sperm should be high on anyone’s bucket list. Mr. Lovewell decided that he wasn’t afraid anymore. What he was was aksaray escort three-quarters erect! Then fully, Then the boy, that beautiful boy, was licking his man’s knob yet again. Taking his time. Getting it ce and moistened with cum and saliva. Oh! That’s the stuff! If a drum and bugle corps had entered Mr. Lovewell’s classroom at that moment, the man would not have noticed. He was getting the first REAL blowjob of his life. And loving it. The Fates protected the lovers that lovely day. No one entered the room during Eric’s spectacular 19-minute, practical application of advanced fellatriology. The man nearly blew the boy’s head off with the force of his manly orgasm. And that was that for Mr. Lovewell’s pretense of heterosexuality. He wanted to take Eric home and fuck him until morng. The boy would agree, wouldn’t he? What with that Twenty-Ninth Amendment stuff and all. No, he wouldn’t. Eric smiled through his frosted face at Mr. Lovewell. To the man, the boy had never been more beautiful. He was about to ask the boy to run away with him to somewhere. Like Tangiers. Or Jersey City. But through his cummy smile, the boy said, “That was amazing, Mr. Lovewell. I loved doing that and I know you did too. We could do so much more. Lots more. You could even fuck me. We would both like that. But we can’t.” What? No! This boy couldn’t tease him with a lifetime of cummy sex, then back off1 Wait, Mr. Lovewell thought. Maybe the boy has an anal allergy. Can’t take it up the pooper. OK. We can work that out. There are doctors in Tangiers. And Jersey City. And he can just give me blowjobs until… “We can’t do any sex things, Mr. Lovewell, until you do one thing for me.” Oh no! Who did the man have to kill? He would do it. No question. “It’s something you can do easily if you want to be with me like I want to be with you. Making you happy day and ght. I want you to respect me.” Huh? Mr. Lovewell was befuddled. What did he mean? I guess I have to spell it out, Eric thought. So he did. “I want you to tell the world that we’re a couple. A loving couple sharing love and sex. I want you to hold my hand when we walk together. Kiss me on the lips when you greet me. Hold my chair when you take me to dinner at least once a week. Say to everyone, even Mr. Strictman, `I love this sissyboy'” Pain. That’s what was showing on Mr. Lovewell’s handsome face. He wanted Eric more than life itself. But that would mean he had to go against a life of counter-indoctrination. Especially in Littletown. And facing Mr. Strictman was a horrible prospect. Eric took a sliver of pity on his dream man. There was little doubt that the prospect of ball-searing sex would win out. Mr. Lovewell was a man after all. But he needed a good push. “I hope you agree, Mr. Lovewell. I really do. But the offer is only good for two days. Bye.” The boy got out from under the desk, pulled his shorts up and left. Leaving the man with dropped, cummy pants and a big decision. Four — Clearing the way a bit It’s true. Fortune favors the bold. And the shameless. Mr. Strictman was astoshed when Alex blew right past the principal’s secretary and flew into the man’s office. The man stood up and was about to protest when Alex said, “Ten minutes, Mr. Strictman, and your problems with me and my brother will be over. OK, sir?” Mr. Strictman considered the offer. He was intrigued. And a little bit concerned about being so close to the first gay person who had ever been in Littletown. [Ha ha] So he waved off Miss Prunely, his secretary and allowed Alex to close the door. Mr. Strictman sat back down and offered Alex a seat. Alex remained standing and said, “I would like to request that we start an LGBTQ club right here at Littletown Middle School. It would allow people who are `different’ to gather together and discuss their lives. My brother Bobby and I were in a club like that in our school in Bigcity. The suicide rate for people like Bobby and me dropped almost to zero. And we got recogtion from the mayor and police chief and even religious leaders with a spine. Whaddaya say, Mr. Strictman? Do you want to do something good and loving for people or are you one of the haters?” If only Alex had photographed Mr. Strictman’s face at that moment. It would have been the cover of many future psychology books. Mr. Strictman’s face showed fear, anger, outrage, hurt, vengeance and not a smidgie of acceptance. Mr. Strictman used up 30 seconds of Alex’s time by being unable to speak until he spit out, “How dare you? Coming into my office and accusing me of being a hater? I love these students and show it every day by embracing traditional values.” “You mean you love the students who embrace traditional values. Only them, am I right?” Mr. Strictman paused. The man wasn’t completely dense and had to admit to himself that Alex was right about that. But he wasn’t admitting that to Alex. “I love all my students, young man! I…” “You don’t love me. You don’t love Bobby. You don’t love Kevin Wiseboy.” Mr. Strictman was a pain in the ass, but he wasn’t a liar. So he didn’t deny that. Alex went on. Shamelessly. “I think you love me in a different way, sir. I’ve seen how you look at Bobby’s and my legs and bums when we walk by in the morng. And how you always have to run into this bathroom here afterwards. Let’s see what’s in there.” And before Mr. Strictman could stop Alex, the boy became the first person except for Mr. Strictman to enter his private bathroom. Mr. Strictman stood in the door to see Alex holding a large, half-filled bottle of Slickyboy Masturbation Cream (a Spermbutt Industries product). “So this is what you do after you look at my pretty bottom. Are you thinking about putting your pes into my bottom when you’re wanking, sir?” That little bastard! The gall! The disrespect! Calling upon a fury Mr. Strictman scarcely knew he had, the man grabbed Alex by the arm and DRAGGED him over to a hard-backed chair. He sat, flung the boy face down over his lap and prepared to dole out his first corporal pushment in 21 years. The little shit deserved it, didn’t he? A spanking given over the boy’s shorts and undies was too mild. So he ripped down Alex’s shorts and became further enflamed when he saw, and I’m not making this up, panties! Panties! On a boy! In Mr. Strictman’s school!! The man ripped Alex’s panties down and exposed his exquisitely beautiful ass to Mr. Strictman. The first boy’s ass Mr. Strictman had seen in 21 years. The man was so enraged that Alex’s anal loveliness didn’t register with him. Alex was prepared to suffer for his principles. He expected a spanking, though not bare-bottom. The man applied the first manual spank with great force. Alex cried out. It hurt. Another. More crying. But then, two things happened. Mr. Strictman realized that corporal pushment was illegal those days. And he would surely lose his job, the job that defined him, if he was discovered. And this is probably more earth-shattering, Alex’s anal loveliness registered with Mr. Strictman. Cripes. He had the biggest, neediest erection of his life. Alex noticed. He got off the man’s lap, stepped out of his shorts and panties, leaving himself nude from the waist down, and knelt between Mr. Strictman’s opened legs. The man could have ended that phase of their encounter right there. Stood up. Insisted that Alex get dressed and leave. Accept the school board’s pushment of death by firing squad for giving a bare-bottom spanking to a student under his care. But he didn’t. What he did was raise his hips and help Alex shuck his pants up and over his cock. Which was disgracefully, shamelessly outrageous. What was totally unexpected was the size of Mr. Strictman’s cock. It was gigantic! Bigger than any Alex had met in Bigcity. Must be all that country fresh air. Being an expert on cockology, Alex postulated that Mr. Strictman’s reactions to Alex’s expert suckage may have indicated that the man hadn’t had his cock sucked in a very long time. If ever. Which presents a clear and present danger to any man’s health. He was the principal of a middle school in post-Twenty-Ninth-Amendment America for goodness sakes! He should be fucking two or three different boys a day. If Alex’s plan worked out, Mr. Strictman soon would be. Despite all his rock-solid, almost evangelized moralism, Mr. Strictman surrendered to Alex’s delicious onslaught. This is so wrong, Mr. Strictman’s brain was trying to say to him. But his cock’s voice was much louder. Alex maintained full eye contact throughout his extravagant demonstration of what Mr. Strictman had been missing all his life. But didn’t need to miss anymore. Mr. Strictman was delighted and tormented in equal parts when he HEAVED out the second guiltiest sperm load of his life. More on the first guiltiest later, of course. The pleasure was almost debilitating as he watched Alex stand up and get dressed. Before he left, Alex kissed the dazed man on the lips and said, “You can have me, all of me, even better than that, anytime you want if you just do one thing for me. Let me know if you want to know what that is. Offer expires in two days, sir.” And he was gone. Leaving Mr. Strictman to actually ponder the meang of life. Not just use that as a throwaway line. Five — Bobby and Kevin Well. The talk was all over the school about how that new kid, the younger gay one, Bobby, had somehow gotten red-blooded Kevin Wiseboy to tell everyone he met that day that he and the gay kid were lovers now. A declaration that improved Kevin’s life by several thousand percent. Not only had he been given a clear path to the intense delights of young Bobby Creampie, it alerted the approximately 18 boys in Littletown Middle School who wanted to de-closet that the moralistic tide was finally wetting in the right direction. Said intense delights were happeng that very eveng at a “grand-openg” sleepover at Bobby and Alex’s house. Their Mom and Daddy were welcoming hosts, although Daddy was a tiny bit jealous. Kevin was interfering with Daddy’s favorite recent routine of fucking one son from after dinner until bedtime and then “sleeping” with the other. Thank goodness Alex was willing to give Daddy his parental rights the entire eveng and ght. Truth be told, Daddy had been enjoying Littletown, because he had been the boys’ only lover. Unlike in Bigcity, where Daddy only got to fuck his boys three, maybe four times a week. Anyway, Bobby and Kevin skipped dinner and went right to Bobby’s bedroom. A place where immense delights awaited them both. Kevin was 13. Bobby was 11. Kevin’s sex experience consisted of the two introductory blowjobs that Bobby had given him. Bobby’s sexual experience, if listed here, would overfill the fty server. But Kevin was the MAN! The smart man, as it turned out, because he said, “I want to give you at least as much pleasure as you give me. If you don’t like what I’m doing, tell me. If you like what I’m doing, I’m pretty sure I’ll know. If you have any suggestions, please tell me. I’ll do pretty much anything to give you pleasure and I’m going to take it slow, at first. OK?” Bobby’s eyes filled with love tears. He had certainly picked the right boy. Instinct and good sense allowed Kevin to deliver the speech that all new lovers should hear. “Would it be OK if we both got naked, Honey?” Kevin asked. “I can’t wait to see your beautiful body. And then kiss you all over.” Bingo again. And Kevin was true to his word. The naked boys got into bed. It goes without saying, but I’ll say it anyway, that both boys were extremely pleased with the first sightings of their fully naked lovers. Bobby’s body was delicate, with small feet, small hands, small, though tasty pes. He was big in the right places – large pples, large, kissable lips and an industrial-strength ass. Kevin was more robust. Part of that was because he was two years older than Bobby. Part was him working out. Most was winng genetic bingo, just as Bobby had. He had a more than adequate pes for an eight-grader. Way more than adequate. Bobby was on his back. Kevin lay on Bobby’s right side and began to kiss the boy, open-mouth, as he rubbed his stomach. Oh my! That was sweetly delicious. Kevin took his time. Kissing with just the right amount of passion as he began to rub the area between Bobby’s belly button and his 14 pubic hairs. Very ce. Bobby’s prick was ferociously erect. He began to worry about the scourge of blue balls. A condition none of his clan had ever endured. But Kevin saved the day. He moved his mouth to Bobby’s right pple and his stroking hand to Bobby’s knoblet. Teasing the pple with the tip of his tongue as he flicked his thumb along Bobby’s “arrow-point” on the bottom of the boy’s glans. Oh my. Game, set and match. Grand slam. Please drive home safely ladies and gentlemen. Wowie! Thank goodness Kevin was an athlete. Only someone fit and quick could heroically rescue spurts three through ne by covering Bobby’s pes with his mouth. Spurts one and two he recovered soon after. Poor Bobby. He had seen that bright tunnel, just from Kevin’s foreplay. And this was Kevin’s first time with a sissyboy! What would fucking be like with him? And what would fucking be like once he’s experienced? Bobby aimed to find all that out about his prodigy lover. Being a dutiful sissyboy, Bobby was ready to drag himself from his crypt and give his lover a hall-of-fame blowjob. Not yet. Kevin apparently wanted some pillow talk. Rather than fish for compliments about his role in the recent nuclear activity, Kevin asked Bobby, “Do you want to know the first thing I liked about you, Honey?” “Yes, please.” No sissyboy ever passed up an opportuty for a compliment. “Your beautiful face, of course. I’ve seen TV shows, movies, and magazines as well as real people here in Littletown, and I’ve never seen anyone as pretty as you.” Bobby glowed. This guy was gonna get the platinum sex package with ten followups at his conveence. Going for the valla, buttercream icing with sprinkles. Bobby said, “You’re amazingly sweet, and thank you so much. But I know my brother is prettier than I am.” Just indignantly enough, “No way. Alex is beautiful, no doubt. But alsancak escort you’re WAY more beautiful than he is.” Ding, ding ding, ding! The big jackpot! Bobby’s eyes igted. He assaulted Kevin with kisses and cockstrokes. The boy had now earned one hundred platinum sex packages at his conveence. Bobby moved his pretty head south so he could deliver the kind of long, slow, slurpy cocksucking and ball-bathing that a man dreams about all his life. But Kevin asked him to stop. More pillow talk. “Want to know the second thing that attracted me to you?” Oh yes. They could do sex anytime. Sincere compliments given while naked deserve priority. “Your ass! You have a spectacular ass! The best I’ve ever seen. I saw you walking away from me three weeks ago on the first day of school. At least three times a day since then I masturbated thinking of your ass. May I see it? Please?” And the hits just keep on coming. Honest flattery (or at least, plausible flattery) will get you everywhere with a sissyboy. Bobby wanted to run away with Kevin and “submit” to him at least ten times a day. Bobby rolled over and proudly displayed his bare bum to Kevin for the first time. Kevin gasped. The evidence suggests that Kevin was telling the truth about everything. Though the question of which lovely brother was more beautiful is a matter of personal preference. Kevin touched Bobby’s bum cheeks reverently. His cock twitched. Bobby felt it and glowed with happiness. What a keeper! “May I kiss you back there, Sweetheart?” “Please do. I want you to do that very much. And you can use your tongue too. If you want.” Kevin seemed in awe. Because he was. Bobby’s ass was at least as beautiful as Helen of Troy’s face. And it was right there for Kevin to pleasure. And for Kevin’s pleasure. Kevin began to kiss the plump, pink globes. Softly at first. Then more intently. Bobby Creampie’s ass was the center of Kevin Wiseboy’s uverse at that moment in his life. And Bobby was aroused beyond belief by that knowledge. Bobby became even more aroused when Kevin parted the globes with his thumbs and revealed the even more centered center of Kevin’s uverse. The sweet wrinkle. Quivering for Kevin’s loving attention. Both oral and pele. Kevin took his time getting to the bullseye. Stoking Bobby’s already feverish lust. Kissing the parts of the bum that cover the anus when one is standing. The inner folds. Licking softly. Then strongly. Until… A light kiss on the nexus of delight. Then a soft lick. Bobby screamed as if she were watching the teenager go into the shed where the chainsaw murderer was hiding. And spunked his sheets with wild abandon. Kevin was merciless. Digging his tongue into his lover’s anus as the pretty boy’s orgasm peaked and valleyed. Arousing the boy’s arousal until he was able to issue a muffled entreaty. “Please fuck me! Please! I need you inside me now! The Spermbutt Anal Lubricant (the sissyboy’s friend) is right there. Please.” For the first time, Kevin showed a sense of urgency. Greasing his lover up with tongue and well-Spermbutted fingers. Bobby raised his ass to give Kevin a better target, but Kevin wanted none of that. “On your back, Baby. I want you to see your man when he’s fucking you. And we can kiss that way too.” Yes sir! Bobby flipped over, raised his hips so Kevin could slip two big pillows under them, raised and spread his legs and TOOK IN Kevin’s sissypleaser. All 6.79 inches of it. Yowie! Bliss. Nirvana. A love affair that would last at least six weeks (an eon in the sissyboy world) got off to a perfect beginng. Six — Keeping up with Mr. Strictman. It was a “What have I done?” moment for Mr. Strictman. You know the kind. Like when you punch the traffic cop who stopped you for a broken taillight. Or you put all your money into the wrong crypto currency. The principal had stripped a student half-naked, spanked him, then allowed the student to perform a filthy, homoerotic, anti-religion, pro-Commust, shattered-values act upon his person. Not only had the man allowed it, he had ORGASMED during the act. Which made him at least ten percent responsible for the disgustingness of it all. The shame! And that Alex Creampie person! England had the right idea until recent years. People like Alex and Oscar Wilde belonged in prison! The arrogance of him! Mr. Strictman just wondered if Alex was a member of some foreign terrorist orgazation. Breaking down the pillars of American society. No true American would do the kinds of disgusting things that that Alex person did. And what was that baloney about the man had two days to accept his terms? Something about Mr. Strictman could have Alex for all the sex he wanted if he did one thing. One thing. Didn’t even say what that one thing was. Gave the man two days to call him and find out what that one thing was. Probably something filthy and vile. Was counting on the principal’s curiosity. Hah! Didn’t matter anyway because the man didn’t want sex with that boy. Cumming into the boy’s mouth was an involuntary reaction. Like sneezing in a dust cloud. And that kiss he gave as he left. That did raise the man’s pes, but again, it was probably from rage. Honesty with himself about Alex was not on the menu. Yet. Why was he thinking about the last time something similar happened? 21 years earlier. Mr. Strictman remembered it vividly. Eleven-year-old Jimmy Lovewell was a prankster. Minor stuff mostly. But his latest prank was very destructive. Jimmy introduced frogs into the school’s plumbing system. Lots of them. It ruined the entire system. Closed down the school for three days. Made several caught-short teachers and students pee their pants. Mr. Strictman was enraged. Just as he had with Alex, he dragged Jimmy over to a hard chair, stripped him naked (the only proper way to receive true spanking discipline) and beat his ass hard. Jimmy did four things. Three of them were expected and normal. Jimmy screamed bloody murder. Jimmy cried his pretty eyes out. Jimmy promised to be good forever (the most useless of promises). And Jimmy shot his sperm all over Mr. Strictman’s suit pants!!!! Mr. Strictman did something unexpected too. When he saw Jimmy heaving out a messy cum, the man also creamed his pants. Until that morng, it was the low point in Mr. Strictman’s life. Mr. Strictman handed Jimmy his clothes, turned away when the sffling Jimmy got dressed. And dismissed Jimmy. Neither spoke about it ever again. In fact, twelve years after the naked spanking, Mr. Strictman hired Jimmy Lovewell as a teacher. That’s right. Mark your scorecards. The boy who made Mr. Strictman cum 21 years earlier was now Eric’s possible lover-to-be. Both Mr. Strictman and Mr. Lovewell were under a two-day deadline to poop or get off the pot with Alex and Eric. Well, that bit of history was irrelevant as far as the dedicated educator was concerned. He would just dismiss both awful scenes (Jimmy and Alex) from his mind and never think of them again. Which would be easy. No problem. But first, he was going into his private bathroom and relieving all the stresses of the past hour. His cock was so outrageous from rightful indignation that it shouldn’t take long to get some very ce relief. Without thinking of Alex. Or the exceptionally skilled way the boy had performed that abominable act on his principal’s private parts. Seven — Decision-Making, Part One Jimmy Lovewell was very happy to get home to his bachelor apartment that eveng. What a day it had been with Eric! How had Eric known that Mr. Lovewell had “those feelings” about boys? Oh no! Had Eric been watching him pay too much attention to Alex Creampie? Had he been that obvious? Mr. Lovewell was just going with his feelings on that. Alex was a very attractive boy who oozed sex. Sex with the world’s Alexes was fully legal with the boy’s consent. Even in Littletown. Mr. Lovewell had been denying his feelings for 21 years. Maybe that was long enough. He thought back, as he had often, to that day when he was naked in Mr. Strictman’s office. Taking on an ass beating because of the stupid, destructive thing he had done. Naked. With a man. The sexual heat that engendered in young Jimmy far outstripped any pain. He was grossly humiliated when he shot his boy’s cream all over Mr. Strictman’s pants. But he was also thrilled. If at that moment Mr. Strictman had asked Jimmy to bend over so that the man could stick his cock up the boy’s bum, Jimmy would have eagerly complied. Many times since then, he wished that had happened. But it didn’t. Was Eric giving Mr. Lovewell a second chance? A chance for the man-boy love he had always dreamed of? But at what cost? He could come out, just as Eric had requested, and fulfill his lifelong dreams. But there was a whole junkyard in Littletown filled with old railroad ties. If Mr. Lovewell came out, wouldn’t the citizens tar and feather him and ride him out of town on one? That horror seemed minor to the prospect of telling Mr. Strictman that he was going to be loving and fucking young Eric and he was blasting that information to one and all. RAGE!! Would it turn to violence? Did Mr. Strictman keep a gun in his drawer? Perhaps the principal’s office would be a poor venue for a confession. Unless the principal had a concealed carry weapon. Then nowhere would be safe. The only sliver of miscule hope was Mr. Strictman’s reaction to Jimmy’s lap-spunking 21 years ago. Mr. Lovewell believed to this day that the principal shot a large manload into his pants right after Jimmy did. So were naked boys of interest to Mr. Strictman? Mr. Lovewell sought refuge in his secret stash of Sissy Boy magazines. The keystone for the Sissy Revolution of recent years. He loved all 107 issues he had of Sissy Boy and its spinoffs, but the prime pieces were the 15 that dealt with manly teachers and their boyish lovers. Just so there would be no unnecessary dry-cleang bills on his teacher’s salary, Mr. Lovewell stripped to a very ce nude. He placed one towel on the bed cover, another by his side for “spills.” Added a large bottle of Slickyboy Masturbation Cream (a Spermbutt Industries Product) and he and Sissy Boy number 27, “Sweet Surrender to Teacher” were ready to roll. A blond cutie named Henry (who looked a lot like Eric) had stayed after school for an extra-credit project. The project was apparently to see how much sperm could be extracted from a 30-year-old teacher and an 11-year-old boy in two hours and 12 minutes. Not much plot. Lots of bare boy. A tub full of cum. That could be me, Mr. Lovewell thought as he HURLED his manly juices in a thick arc. He had made his decision. Eight – Decision-Making, Part Two The next morng, Eric and Alex’s class was seated and awaiting Mr. Lovewell’s instruction. Calling what happened next a surprise would be like calling the Taj Mahal a tomb. “Eric Spermer and I are in love, class. We will be dating, kissing and doing all the things that loving couples unconcerned with unwanted pregnancy do. Tell your parents. Tell your friends. I’m proud to declare my love for Eric.” OH!! That even surprised Eric. He had expected a bit of wiffle-waffle and the deadline was still 28 hours off. His body burned with sexual heat. He couldn’t stay seated. He ran up to Mr. Lovewell, threw his arms around him and deep-kissed him. The class sat still. Dazed. Until… A boy, not Alex, surprisingly, began to applaud. Then another. A girl (they’re suckers for a good love story) joined in. Suddenly, the whole class was clapping vigorously as man and boy kissed and hugged. The couple looked out at the class with eyes filled with tears and love. Alex smiled. A big step for a man, a giant step for mankind. Nine — The Final Frontier Alex had the presence of mind to jump up, leave the room and hurry to Mr. Strictman’s office before the jungle drums told the man what was happeng. Once again, he barged right in. Startling Mr. Strictman, but exciting the man as well. Was this wanton catamite intending to give him additional fellatio? Horrors!! Right? No such luck. Alex sat right down and explained the situation. “Mr. Strictman, sir, something amazing just happened in my class with Mr. Lovewell and you need to know about it.” Oh no, Mr. Strictman thought, had this awful boy done that awful thing he did to me to Jimmy Lovewell? “Mr. Lovewell just told the class that he and Eric Spermer are in love and will be doing what you and I did yesterday and much more. They were open-mouth kissing and the class was cheering when I left.” Aghast! That’s the word to describe Mr. Strictman at that moment. Alex went on. “I swear to you, sir, that I had nothing to do with it. It’s a revolution, sir. An idea whose time has come. Could we discuss what you’ll need to do to get on the right side of history on this?” More aghastness. No words or movement. As he had from the beginng, Alex took charge. He walked around the principal’s desk and sat on the man’s lap. “The rest of the country is 85 percent behind the Sissy Revolution, Mr. Strictman. I mean a constitutional amendment proves that. Imagine the rewards if you quit resisting. Rewards like this.” And he began to kiss Mr. Strictman. And gently rub the man’s hardeng pes through his pants. Mr. Strictman could have ended it all right then. Flung Alex off his lap. Walked down to Mr. Lovewell’s room. Expelled the entire class. Beaten Mr. Lovewell half to death with a cane. Or he could sit there and enjoy amazing sex with a beautiful person. He made the right choice. When somebody like Rudolph Strictman falls, he falls hard. The man tried to slide his hand down Alex’s shorts as they were tongue-kissing. Too tight. So both man and boy stood up and disrobed. Which is a ce verb for s frantic race to starkers. It was a tie. The naked, overheated boy and his naked, overheated recent convert to revolution rubbed and kissed. Mr. Lovewell was 60 years old, but in fine shape. And his cock was the size of ancient Macedoa. For Alex, it was ce that Mr. Strictman was a hunk, but his real objective was to… Whoa! Let’s hold that thought. Apparently, the man hadn’t reached his full potential when Alex first saw him. amasya escort Can you say double digits? And he was going after Alex’s beautiful body with all the zeal of the recently converted. Holy Twenty-Ninth! Should Alex have Spermbutted his bumhole before coming into Mr. Strictman’s office? The man looked desperate to shove that monster up Alex NOW! Sometimes a pac stampede can be stopped by someone yelling “Walk.” Alex calmed his feral sex partner by saying one word, “Slowly.” It worked. Mr. Strictman was somehow able to tamp down his frantic sex impulses and remember how he and his ex-wife had made slow, romantic, mutually fulfilling love. Both times. Kissing was the key. Or so he remembered it. Through the fog of time. And gentle stroking. Building sexual heat and tension. Slowly. For the comfort of the School Board when they visited, Mr. Strictman had a very ce couch in his office. The man sensed that further activities would be greatly enhanced by relocation to that comfortable refuge. He proposed a move to Alex, who groaned out acceptance, but made a small detour to the private bathroom for a moment. He wasn’t concerned at all about soaking the couch in boy’s cream, manly sperm and even anal juices, because when the School Board heard what he and Mr. Lovewell had done, both men would be burned at the stake and their ashes scattered in the town dump. But that was for later. Right now, Alex was on the couch on his back. Mr. Strictman was kneeling on the carpet next to him, drooling over Alex’s tasty pes and darling testicles. All of Mr. Strictman’s feelings had been there all along. They briefly surfaced 21 years ago with Jimmy. And were stampeding to the surface as Alex lay before him. Thirty years of watching lovely tween boys parading up and down his school’s halls. Making the weak pilot light in the man’s libido igte only to the point of guilt and self-delusional masturbation in his private bathroom. That was over. Mr. Strictman kissed Alex’s cockhead. Alex squeaked out a “Oh, Mr. Strictman!” That pilot light had become an inferno as the man consumed his sweet treat. Should he do that other thing? You know. Why yes. It was never too early to get Alex ready for the fucking that Mr. Strictman would be giving the boy that day, even if the School Board chairman was hanging on his leg as he fucked the boy. Mr. Strictman noted that Alex’s detour had been to secure the bottle of Slickyboy Masturbation Cream (a Spermbutt Industries Product). It wasn’t as useful in the anus as Spermbutt Anal Lubricant, but it was more than adequate. The man slicked his three middle fingers and entered Alex’s anus with the middle finger. Alex gasped and smiled. Then the man began to kiss and lick the boy’s delectable pes as his middle finger sought the big prize. And there it was. Alex’s prostate! Yowie, zowie, might I say. Licking. Rubbing. Kissing. Sucking. Alex was dazzled by Mr. Strictman’s skill set. That and his monster cock were weapons of ass destruction. And they had been under wraps for way too long. Alex’s orgasm overtook him. He barely had time to say, “Oh, sir, I…” Alex wondered vaguely if cumming in the man’s mouth would disgust the man and make him regress. Not one bit. Mr. Strictman captured the boy’s essence in his mouth. Savoring the taste before swallowing. Even feeding some to Alex as they kissed. And Mr. Strictman added the second then the third finger to his prostate-torture procedure. “Mr. Strictman, I’m ready now, sir. I want that magficent cock inside me. I know it will hurt because it’s so big and hot and hard, but I need it. NOW!” Well. Good things come to those who ask. Mr. Strictman slid a couch pillow under Alex’s hips, hopped onto the couch, lifted Alex’s pretty calves up to his manly shoulders, lined up his shot and pushed. Truth be told, Alex wasn’t serious about the sex pep talk where he said that Mr. Strictman’s prick was going to stretch him so much that it would hurt. No man had hurt his anus since… Alex should have been serious. That cock broke anal elasticity records. He was going to have to advise Mr. Strictman against loving up any eleven or ten-year-olds for a while. Stick with the fuck-experienced veterans. Once Alex got over his itial shock, he found himself involved in a phenomenal phuck. The man had imagined doing this for so long that all he had to do was follow his fantasy. It appears that it’s true. You don’t have to dig too deep within a hetero man to find a boy lover. Well, let’s pick up the story in the late afternoon. Eric and Mr. Lovewell were driving to Mr. Lovewell’s apartment for their first fuckings as things were happeng all over town. Word spread throughout Littletown Middle School about how Eric and Mr. Lovewell had broken the sissyboy love barrier that people like Mr. Strictman had set up. They were instant heroes, drawing the attention of the local newspaper and TV station. Not to mention social media. But it soon became bigger news when word spread that Mr. Strictman had fucked Alex Creampie in the principal’s office. Three times. This startling news quickly drew the attention of the School Board chairman, Mercedes dealer Clyde Hotrod. Mr. Strictman’s long-time secretary, Miss Prunely, had to be revived with smelling salts when she heard the sex sounds and smelled the sex odors Coming from the office of the man she had long believed to be a rock of virtue and a defender of so-called “family values.” Because as we all know, gay people do not have families. Discovering her former hero to be a perverted defiler of a young boy, Miss Prunely immediately ratted Mr. Strictman out, of course. Calling Mr. Hotrod and then sticking around for Mr. Strictman’s stong. Mr. Hotrod appeared 15 minutes later, thanked Miss Prunely for the valuable information and barged in as the lovers were pushing hard to conclude their fourth magficent love tussle of that amazing day. Mr. Strictman saw his boss enter the room but didn’t care. He was committed to his new life as a perverted defiler of young boys. Ensuring that he would be heard, Mr. Hotrod waited until both man and boy completed what appeared to be two five-star orgasms, then spoke. Here it comes, Mr. Strictman thought. The principal only hoped that the guillotine the town council ordered last quarter hadn’t arrived yet, “Well, Rudy, you’ve really dome it this time,” Mr. Hotrod said. Yes I did do it, Mr. Strictman thought. And I’m proud of it. The chairman went on. “I am so proud of you, Rudy. Singlehandedly, you’re dragging this town into post-Twenty=Ninth-Amendment America! All over town daddies are leaving work early so they can fuck their sons. Men and boys are holding hands and kissing everywhere. And we have your school to thank.” As humbly as a naked man covered with his and his lover’s cum could be, Mr. Strictman said, “Thank you, sir, but I wasn’t the first. It was…” “You must be Alex Creampie, young man.” “Yessir” “Nice to meet you, Alex. Really ce. Say, Alex. I have no sons or grandsons. Just girls. Would it be possible for you to, you know…” “Hook you up? Of course, sir. If Mr. Strictman says it’s OK. I never do anything without his approval.” Mr. Strictman looked at Alex with fresh eyes. Not only was he the world’s best fuck, he’s the person one would want next to him in a foxhole. Foreseeing his own fuck-filled future, Mr. Hotrod wanted to show his gratitude. “You know, Rudy, as soon as I leave here, I’m going to call the town council and have them cancel that guillotine order. Instead, I’m going to use the money to build you a new wing to your private office. A room with a big bed, a shower for two and a soaking tub. You’re gonna need it when all those boys hear about that Johnson you’re packing. Wow!” Mr. Strictman was so grateful he could hardly speak. But Alex could. “That’s so kind of you, sir. I want to show my appreciation for your support. Mr. Strictman, would it be OK if Mr. Hotrod and I spent this eveng and toght discussing the details of your new office?” Had he had one sperm cell left in his body, Mr. Strictman would have protested. But he was dog-tired. And wanted to be ready for the next day, when he was sure he would start receiving many amazing offers. Mr. Strictman agreed good-naturedly. Alex kissed him goodbye, put on his clothes over his cummy body and walked out arm in arm with Mr. Hotrod. Ten= One more gratuitous sex scene We never really discussed the deep intimacy that Eric and Mr. Lovewell enjoyed with each other after the big announcement, did we? Let’s do that. Mr. Lovewell and Eric kissed and fondled each other’s exposed cocks throughout the rest of that first-period class. Some of the boys in the class watched while playing with their own sweet meats. Others paired up with their classmates for kissing and masturbation. Two bold couples exchanged blowjobs. Viva the revolution! At the end of that awesome day, Mr. Lovewell drove Eric to his bachelor apartment. All had been cleared with Eric’s Daddy, who was too interested in Eric’s younger brother to protest. It was 3:15 p.m. They didn’t have to be in school for 17 hours. Paradise! Eric was naked two steps into the apartment. And dragging his man to what had to be the bedroom. Mr. Lovewell was barely able to get his clothes off before the lovers were on the bed. Kissing greedily. Bare skin against bare skin. Foreplay. The man had to do foreplay. What kind of foreplay did they do in his Sissy Boy magazines? None. Just cum flying everywhere. Should he just stick his cock up Eric’s bumhole? No. Too crude. Oops. It looked as if Eric was deciding things again. He was conducting a thorough inspection of Mr. Lovewell’s pes. Oh my. Eric was the best inspector Mr. Lovewell had ever met. Eric was kissing Mr. Lovewell’s knob as he smiled that beautiful smile for his man. Just before he swallowed most of the beast, he said, “I’ve been drooling all day thinking about how delicious your cum was yesterday. Can I please have a ce big load of it now?” How do you turn down an offer like that? Was a blowjob foreplay? Let’s say it is. Mr. Lovewell thought so. His love/lust for Eric grew with every soft lick. Every sweet suck. Every kiss on his testicles. Oh my. There went 18 minutes of their 17 hours. It was well spent. Foreplay made more sense to Mr. Lovewell now that he was a bit depleted. Lots of cummy kissing. Followed by Eric’s introduction to his pples. Eric’s pples and he would become very good friends. As evidenced by the boy squealing out a massive spunkload just from his man’s loving p licks. There are apparently two crown jewels of later foreplay. The stuff you do after kissing and rubbing. Just before fucking. Cocksucking and asslicking. In that order, of course. Mr. Lovewell had not yet seen Eric’s pes close up. But there it was. Gorgeous. Four solid inches of boy. The musky boy smell alone was restiffeng the man’s cock. He pulled the foreskin back and sckered when the boy gasped. The perfect pee lips were dripping sweet boy juices. Just a taste. Yum! Mr. Lovewell had never sucked a cock. But he had dreamed of it many times. Dreams were coming true all over Littletown. Eric’s joy matched his man’s. It was Eric’s first blowjob too. A fine first effort by Mr. Loveman, since it was the product of love, not just lust. Oh dear. Was Eric cumming again? So soon? The man hadn’t even had the opportuty to insert a finger into that perfect bumhole during fellation. No problem. Mr. Lovewell was planng for many “next times.” Eric was sobbing with emotion as he came down from his orgasm. Oh, he thought, he has to fuck me now, I can’t wait any… Unnnnh! His man’s two rude fingers were up his pretty keister. Feeling around for… Double Unnnnh! Mr. Lovewell found the prostate all right. And he seemed to know what to do with it. Mr. Lovewell was kissing Eric desperately, telling him he loved him between kisses. Concurrently, the anal pleasure was searing! Almost painful. But not quite. Mr. Lovewell made a mental note to wear earplugs the next time they fucked because Eric’s scream when he shot his sissy cream was piercing. Speaking of piercing, it was almost time. But Mr. Lovewell insisted on giving Eric the whole package when he lost his virgity. So anal feasting was next. Despite the sexual heat, Mr. Lovewell took his time licking Eric out. Eric was surprised. He didn’t know that people did such things. But despite his very active squirming and squealing, Eric believed that he liked being eaten out better than anything. So far. As the half-exhausted lad arched his back and succumbed yet again to the insistence of his testicles, the only thought in his mind was, I didn’t believe that such pleasure was possible. Mr. Lovewell stopped his carnal meal and rose up. The boy saw the feral look in his teacher’s eye and was afraid. Very afraid. He was just a young sissyboy. And a MAN was about to mount him and enter his tiny bottom with that blunt object! He would be trapped under the man. Unable to flee. Noone to call for help. It was SO exciting! Mr. Lovewell even took his time greasing up his sissyboy defiler with a pint of Spermbutt Anal Lubricant. Looking at Eric with a gaze that could only be called lupine. And then it was time for the pretty boy to be deflowered. Ridding himself of his useless virgity. Mr. Lovewell grunted with self-satisfaction as he slipped his knob past Eric’s sphincter. The boy winced. It pinched a bit but was not really painful. Even in his full heat, Mr. Lovewell managed to say, “I love you, Eric!” And he plunged. Ouch. Not OUCH!!!!! But Ouch. It appeared that the boy had been properly prepared for fucking. Which is a lovely thing. As was the heat the lovers generated during 72 in-and-outs! Eric had already discarded his notion that having his ass devoured was the best thing in the world. Fucking was better. Oddly enough, Eric’s debilitating cum began in his toes. It crept upward until every pore in his body was having its own orgasm. Sensing his lover’s pleasure, Mr. Lovewell submitted to his own needs. He felt it from his pples to his knees. Shivering through an agony of delight. Life in Littletown would a lot better from now on. [You might want to check out Sissyboy Scenes 30, which I posted a couple of days ago. People don’t call up Sissyboy Scenes, I think, because they think it’s a 30-parter. It’s not. Each story is complete. Otherwise, please tell me what you think at beautifulcreamer@yahoo ail.]

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