Date: Tue, 11 Nov 2003 21:22:06 -0800 From: Tony Hoskins Subject: Ballboy to Boytoy Part2 Ballboy to Boytoy,Part2. By Tony Hoskins The seduction and domination of a fifteen year-old boy under a shroud of total secrecy was intricate in the extreme, but Cynthia's first phase of her plan had succeeded beyond her wildest hopes. She admitted to herself that she had been incredibly lucky. Kenny's purloining of the money to her private knowledge and his readiness to accept her punishment had both fallen like ripe plums, just as the lad's almost naked body had, right into her lap. It might of course have been faster to seduce him in classic fashion but creating the opportunity would have been, and still was going to be, difficult without causing comment. Like any first-rate gambler she was always terribly conscious of the risks involved. After all she had never met him in public and had no logical reason to be alone with him without raising eyebrows or outright comment and suspicion. No, things had worked out for the best; the only person with any idea of her intentions was pretty Francine,her French maid who was undoubtedly hoping one day to enjoy his lithe young body herself. As the boy had lain across her lap, his naked hips on hers, unable to control his ejaculation, she had enjoyed a delicious orgasm inspired mainly by his innocence,embarrassment and her control of the situation rather than the friction on her labia and clitoris. What was it the famous duchess had said to her stableboy when he commented on how her horse was lathered with sweat after her ride?. "So would you be my lad if you had spent two hours between my thighs". Cynthia's husband Basil was a stockbroker and their marriage, like so many others, had settled into a form of transactional settlement. She had happily accepted his bisexualism, he her many affairs. She knew well that he would jump at the chance of any possible liaison with the boy as he preferred young partners. There was no doubt he would gladly participate in any scheme that would enhance his chances in that regard. He could be depended on to participate. In the meantime there was the problem of the means of seducing the boy who she felt certain was undoubtedly ready for his first actual coupling and, if she had her way, it was certainly going to be with her. She pondered long and hard and an idea came to mind that might or might not be successful. She rang the tennis club on a rare rainy summer afternoon and feigning sickness asked them to `get somebody' to bring over the minutes of the previous committee meeting to help her plan the agenda for the next one. It was a completely rational suggestion that might or might not work. As she had hoped, it was logical for Kenny, with little else to do on such a day, to be dispatched with the papers up to her house where he was greeted delightedly by Francine and escorted, to his surprise to Cynthia's bedroom. She was seated at a small desk dressed in a white silk peignoir and greeted him pleasantly inviting him to sit near her while she prepared a draft to be returned to the club. Kenny had dreaded this errand and was relieved at first to find that nothing was said about their previous encounter but it was not long before she turned to him and said "I want to talk to you about what happened the other day". His heart seemed to stop beating and he stammered "I'm sorry ma'am I just couldn't help it". He fully expected to be chastised for his lack of control. She reassured him gently that it was quite a normal reaction for a youth his age and started to ask him about his experiences with any girls he knew and any he had enjoyed only with other boys.. Blushing with embarrassment the boy stared at the carpet but gave honest answers to the effect that he knew a few girls but had never gone further than feeling their breasts. He shyly admitted that he had `tossed off' with various school friends from time to time and under her prying questions confessed to masturbating frequently. She was relentless in her questioning, enjoying every moment of being able, under the guise of an adult's concern to extract extremely personal details of his private habits. How often did he masturbate? Was he always nude when he did? Did he fondle himself often?. She relished his obvious discomfort but noted how he gradually became more forthcoming in his answers.. There came a pause and the woman knew instinctively that the time was exactly ripe to make a firm and outright assault on the object of her lust.She had no further thoughts of domination and certainly none involving any wish to hurt him in any way. He was, quite simply, what she wanted to satisfy her. He had a lovely, albeit very young body in which she could picture a copious quantity deep inside him of wriggling sperm that she yearned to feel gushing into her womb. When she stood, he did likewise as his training in good manners had taught him. She walked the few paces over to him and held his biceps gently. "You are a wonderful boy, I wish I had you for a son". A filial relationship was, of course, the last thing in her mind as she put her arms around him and held him closely. He instantly reciprocated, feeling her warm back through her robe and the gentle pressure of her soft and lovely breasts;he scented a faint redolence of jasmine as she suddenly pressed her mouth to his half-open lips.He so little dreamed that he was, in essence, about to be raped. Kenny was overwhelmed as he would have been if hit by a tidalwave.His instant tightening of his arms around the beautiful woman was as instinctive as the huge rush of blood to his groin giving him an erection that was almost painful, constricted as it was by his shorts and briefs. Cynthia knew long beforehand that any attempt to achieve an immediate sexual union would have proved futile and that his seduction had to be done in careful stages. She moved her hands firmly down to his hips and having loosened the clasp of his tennis shorts, slid both them and his briefs down so they fell to the floor. One hand then firmly clasped a smooth firm buttock while the other,gently at first, then tightly, gripped his swollen organ retracting the foreskin well back so the head inside emerged already exuding nature's readying lubricant and thrust hard against silk covering of her hips and thighs. Her tongue gently probed the wet gasping cavity of the youth's mouth and she let her hand lovingly rub the loose skin of his now rock-hard member steadily to and fro and then faster and faster. As she expected, a very few seconds were all that were required before the boy groaned and ejected a flood of his semen onto the front of her pegnoir saturating it in an instant. The boy was gasping and shaking as she still held him closely but more gently than before. She felt the warm suffusion of his milk seeping through the thin silk and down her legs and regretted that so much of his delicious cream was going to waste. She knew however that at his age there would be lots more to literally come. She had made no effort to sexually enjoy this prelude to the main event. She recalled too well that a boy in puberty would have no difficulty in repeating the performance,probably several times before reaching any measure of exhaustion, a stage to which she fully intended to take him. To have had him naked on her bed would have resulted in an instant and clumsy orgasm on penetration, or even before it which was not part of the plot at all. No,.. the stage was properly set for the next scene; the script was going according to plan. She could visualize, had it been a properly produced drama, the stage notes `the curtain rises on a blushing young boy lying naked on a gentlelady's silken-covered bed'. Kenny was in a state of shock. He had just experienced an ecstasy he had never thought possible. He had secretly been rather afraid of this beautiful woman who had power over him and who now had ceased to be any sort of a threat and held him gently in her arms. But there were also the awkward physical actualities of the moment to consider; his shorts and underwear were on the floor between his feet which were still in their socks and runners. He heard her whisper softly in his ear; " I will be back in a moment darling, sit down and wait for me".... Suddenly she was gone. Stopping to collect a few items from a drawer,Cynthia retired to her adjoining bathroom where she removed her robe. The almost bridal silken material had absorbed so much of the boy's substance that a huge stain was all too obvious on its front with even a milky-white smear or two remaining which she couldn't resist pressing to her mouth to taste its sweet but slightly yeasty flavour.It excited her tremendously to think that she was almost certainly the first of her sex to ever taste the child's ejaculate. She delighted in, but ignored the few patches of drying sperm on her thighs as she carefully donned a delicate brassiere and french knickers both in a delicate pale shade of lavender. When she returned she sat on the side of the bed and patted the space beside her. When Kenny, who had instinctively replaced his shorts and briefs, walked the few steps and sat there she knelt down and removed his runners and socks and lifted his thin tennis shirt over his head noting the sparse hair of his teenage armpits. She had long given up any pretence of anything but desire and told him to stand up saying bluntly "I want you naked now". For the second time that day she slid down his shorts and briefs and softly said "Lie down on your back now". The boy was mesmerized and did just what he was told. She slowly removed her brassiere as he watched fascinated, as her lovely breasts came into view. She lay down next to him, one arm under his waist and pulled him towards her placing his hand gently on the crotch of her last remaining piece of clothing. She guided his hand and finger to touch her inside her loose panties and murmured "this is the clitoris darling', what little Francine calls 'le petit garcon en bateau', 'the little boy in the boat'. "Feel him gently, it is where a woman most likes to be touched". The softness of her breasts on his chest and her growing enjoyment of his willing finger as she guided it further into the warm increasing wetness of her vagina.She sat up to look closely at his boy's new erection standing like a thick white six-inch pole above his copious balls and the untanned tops of his thighs. His foreskin had not so much been been pulled back, but forced back by the pressure of the purplish head of his prick inside it like an emerging flower determined to find the sunlight. She bent over to touch its head with the tip of her tongue causing an instant emission of clear fluid as his Cowper's glands reacted as nature intended. A warning bell sounded at once in her mind; there would be time enough to enjoy him in her soft mouth later. This was the moment she had had yearned and planned for and she wasn't going to spoil it. She moved over on top of him, placed her knees on either side of his chest and lowered her open thighs onto his. She reached behind her to guide him but was ecstatic to find that, as she slowly lowered herself, no guidance was necessary. Pure chance perhaps, but the boy's rampant prick slid easily into her slit right to the hilt. She loved the touch of his sparse hairs slightly tickling the sensitive flesh of her crotch and insdie thighs For a whole minute she remained motionless feeling a slight pulsing of his fullness inside her.She leaned forward on top of him, her breasts hung down against his chest and her hands were in his slightly sweating armpits. She thought for a moment that he was trying to escape her but realized at once that the movement of his hips was his desire to further his pleasure. NoNo..she was going to decide when and how they were to climax. She thought of the duchess riding and 'posting', raising her hips to meet the movement of the horse below her and imitated that exact motion. As she did so, she several times could sense the boy was about to let go and eased the pace or ceased completely before resuming. She took her time knowing that the young body beneath her was aching to release its cream but only when she was ready, did she speed up from the motion of a trot to a canter and then feeling a growing warmth in her groin force a gallop to her triumph. She was to swear to her old school friend Daphne later that she actually felt in her vagina, the boy's seed actua;;y flooding up through his prick before it ejected in hot powerful squirts inside her. Not only did she cum but as the last of the warm spunk coated her inside she actually experienced the first dreamy rapture a second time. She sat completely still with her eyes closed for several minutes, feeling his prick soften inside her. Kenny's eyes were glazed,his young body soaked in sweat and his arms limp at his sides. With an almost maternal affection she lent down and kissed his eyes and mouth softly and whispered "you were lovely, just lovely". She realised that, while it had not been necessary, she had never got around to removing her pants which by now were soaked and she almost giggled to think what Francine would have to say in her voluble French when she found the garment sodden with the teenager's and her cum. To the boy,as he slowly regained his senses, the realisation in his young mind was simple.' I've actually 'done it', I mean really done it'. He could now hold his own with his peers and enjoy a small measure of superiority in that ,while he would never elucidate, he could brag that it had been with an experienced woman and not some local teenage slut. In his mind he could not conceive that there could be anything more to discover in the field of sexual enjoyment. (How little he knew) The door to the bedroom suddenly burst open and a stertorian bass voice bellowed "What the hell is going on here Cynthia?".. 'Typical Basil',she thought, 'to come up with such a fatuous line' and as ever his sense of timing was hopeless. Oh well there would be other times to enjoy her conquest further. "Go and get dressed and you,boy stay exactly where you are". She thought 'Well at least' you've managed to stay with the script'..... The drama was coming along nicely. (I have been most gratified to receive compliments from, dare I say?, discerning readers who appear to prefer more descriptive prose than the frequent hum-drum repetitions sometimes found in these pages. Like most authors, I enjoy being encouraged to continue. Praise is our only reward although I welcome comments and suggestions and even brickbats. My thanks again to Y. Lee. Coyote for his often irritating but extremely useful advice).