Bagging Brent
by Ashley Hardric ©2006

    This is a work of fiction.  That means it is not true.  Didn’t happen.  It’s a figment. No boys were involved or harmed in the writing of this story and no trees were sacrificed.  The author does not condone sex with boys; he just writes fantasies about it.  Further, sex in reality requires caution and protection, but my characters won’t catch any bad bugs unless I write them in.  Be safe and legal in the real world, and enjoy the story only if you are of age and location to do so legally.

    **This story is the property of the author and may not be reproduced elsewhere (i.e. other than Nifty Archive)  without his permission.**

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His face has lost the soft roundness of boyhood, but has not yet reached the full angularity of manhood.  His skin still has the peachfuzz softness that disappears with shaving.  There is something about the firm facial features of such a toned, post pubescent teen that calls out for me to stuff my cock into his mouth.  Or his ass.  So when I saw the new bag boy at the
SuprSavr Market, I knew I had to seduce him.

I began finding out what I could about him.  His name was Brent, according to his “We Deliver!” name badge, and he was on the small side.  Trim but not skinny, slender muscles nicely defined, medium brown hair, maybe 5’ 5” tall, probably 15 or 16 years old, about 120 pounds.  I made frequent trips to the market and learned when he usually worked.  I bought some large items so that he could help me get them to my car.  I made excuses to be at the store when he finished work, and followed him home.  Likewise, I put myself in his vicinity when he left his house for work.  (Having a dog to walk is a marvelous reason to be walking around a neighborhood at odd hours!)  Between the store and the neighborhood, we became casually acquainted.

The term “stalking” might be occurring to some at this point, but I preferred to think of it as “research.”  I needed to learn as much about him as I could before initiating any seduction plan.

His tattoos provided the context for that plan.  He had an elaborate design around his upper right arm, another just below his neck at collar level, and one on his totally hairless lower left leg.  Given so many designs that were showing, I suspected that he had more.

After he helped me stow some groceries in my trunk one day, I gave him a nice tip, and then I initiated “Operation Brent.”

“This is nice,” I said, gently touching the tatoo behind his open collar.  “How many do you have that aren’t visible?”  I stroked the bicep with the tatoo, and he flexed his arm so I could see better.

“Five,” he said immediately, and pulled the hem of his shirt up so I could see the elaborate sun design around his navel.   I stroked that a bit, too.  

“Would you like to see the rest?” he asked.

”Absolutely.  In the car, or...?”

“There’s a room we can use at the back of the store.  C’mon.  It’s a little office for the warehouse manager and he’s not working this shift,” he explained as he led me around the side to the back of the store.

Once inside the small office, he tugged his polo shirt over his head, presenting to me his smooth torso, nearly down to his groin.  His loose shorts barely clung to his narrow hips, probably held up by his obvious erection.  He showed me the entire yellow and orange sun design around his navel, some of the rays disappearing into his shorts.  I drew my fingers lightly around that design and stroked his smooth abdomen.  Then he twisted half around and showed me the pink Nifty triangle with linked “male” symbols on his shoulder, and I rubbed his shoulder too, one hand still on his abdomen and the other on his shoulder.

Then he turned back to face me, and started to open his shorts which now had a prominent wet spot near the waistband.

“Let me help,” I said, taking his zipper with my fingers and lowering it, stroking the erection as I did so.  As soon as the fly opened, his dick sprang free, jutting out smartly from a shaven crotch, unfettered by any underwear.  Where the triangle of pubic hair had been removed,  elaborate lettering listed various alternate names for penis.  “All Day Sucker ... Butt Ram ... Cum Pump ... Dipstick ... Early Riser ... Fuck Flute ... Man Plow ... Homo Erectus ... Ivory Shaft ... John Thomas ... Skin Flute  ... Pleasure Pole.”  And up one side of his rigid cock it read, “Open Mouth,” and down the other, “Insert Cock.”

“And the last one,” he said, turning his back to me and bending over.  Twin outline arrows across his smooth butt cheeks pointed toward his asshole, the left one containing the words “Hard cocks” and the right one “Enter here.”

I needed no further urging, as I had been hard and leaking precum since the parking lot.  I produce a lot of precum.  A lot.  It is both a blessing and a curse, depending on the situation that causes an erection.  This time, it was definitely a blessing.  My cock head was totally wet when I slipped it out of my pants, and  precum began dribbling immediately.  I pressed the slick head against against his inviting hole and pushed.  I entered him smoothly and easily, my precum giving plenty of lube as my foreskin slid back, and he pushed back against me as I pushed in.  I buried my shaft fully in him, his slender buns pressed against my pubic hair, and then I pulled nearly all the way out until my head was just at his ring and then I plunged back into him, driving his slender body onto the desk and eliciting a major moan from him.  I started pumping hard, fully in on the in stroke, and almost out on the return.  As I pounded his ass I was squeezing his hard cock with one hand, pulling him to me as well as jacking him off.  Like me, he too had plenty of natural lube, making his hard cock slide easily through my hand.

We fucked for not even a minute before he shot off, his teen cum pumping through my fingers and splattering onto the desk.  Feeling him explode sent me over the top as well and I pumped my cum into him with a fantasic orgasm.  We both sort of collapsed onto the desk, my cock still buried deep in him, my hand still around his, and we rested, panting.

I nuzzled his neck and he turned his head to kiss me.  “That was so good,” he said.  “I needed it bad.”

“You’re a great fuck,” I told him.  “You really do deliver!“