Date: Tue, 19 Jul 2011 06:48:57 -0700 (PDT)
From: Joe Hunter <hunterjoe45@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Commercial Traveler #6

All the usual disclaimers apply:

+This story is a work of fiction.  If you think it is real, you have a very
active imagination.

+Do not read this story if you live in an area where it is illegal to do
so.

+Scenes of sexual activity between an adult male and a young boy are
represented.  Do not read further if this offends you.

+Please do not imitate the actions portrayed herein - the author cannot
accept responsibility for any actions promoted by this story.

If you would like to get in touch, please e-mail me at:

			hunterjoe45@yahoo.com

As always, a doff of the hat goes to 'R M' whose Text-A-Boy stories
inspired my series.  And for this installment, a bow of homage to Beautiful
Creamer, author of the delightful 'Sissyboy' stories - outrageous plots,
tongue-in-cheek humor and plenty of fun!  (My favorite, 'Model Sissyboy' 8
Jun 2009 Adult/Youth archive) If Creamer reads the following he will spot
where I have shamelessly imitated a few of his 'special touches'.  Creamer,
this one is for you!

I hope everyone enjoys reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Support Nifty!   Joe

____________________________


THE COMMERCIAL TRAVELER #6  ( Jeffrey )
(copyright 2011, Joe Hunter)

Call me Jack.

Like I explained in the first few stories - I'm 37, a boy lover and I fly
around a lot on business.  A spare cell phone keeps me in contact with a
string of young companions and most of the time when I go anywhere, I'm
already hooked up...

-----------------------
| Destination: Tacoma |
-----------------------

Tacoma, Seattle, the whole Pacific Northwest - it all looks the same to me,
and it's always raining every time I go there.

Microsoft and other software giants all claim the place as home so you
wouldn't think we'd have any customers in that area, but we did, and there
I was again, jammed into a commercial airliner's coach seat, descending
through a soupy cloud deck, my knuckles white on the arm rests because I
knew how many things could go wrong in an instrument landing.

Somehow we landed safely and, adrenaline level back to normal, I sent
Jeffrey a text from the arrival gate so he would know I was on schedule.
Then it was off through the busy concourse to the rental car agency that
tries harder.

"Make sure it has wipers that work," I told the bored clerk.

Of course my sarcasm was wasted on her.  "All our vehicles are checked
before going out," was the prim reply.  She pushed a set of keys across the
counter.  Minutes later I was struggling through both a downpour and
airport traffic, navigating toward the interstate, windshield wipers
cranking away on high.

I had deliberately taken a morning flight so I could arrive early for
Jeffrey's recital.  He had been all excited on the phone after getting my
text about visiting and his first question had been, "What time will you
get here?"  This was delivered in a furtive, breathless whisper and I knew
he was calling from either his backyard or the woods across the street
where he had run to be away from his mother so she wouldn't hear him
talking on the cell.

"Around four," I said, checking the reservations.

The disappointment had been apparent in his voice when he pleaded, "Can't
you come earlier?"

"Yeah, I suppose so.  What's up?"

"My recital."  His excitement was there again.  "I got my recital that day.
The one I told you about, remember?  It's right after school and you just
gotta' come, Jack.  It's gonna' be really good.  I've been practicing all
this time."

The appeal was obvious.  He would be devastated if I didn't at least make
the attempt.  "No problem," I assured him.  "I'll be there, count on it.
It's at the dance place, right?"

"Nooooo!  It's at a real theater, Jack!  It's so awesome!  They got lights
an' scenery an' everything!  It's like real!"

"Wow.  OK, give me the address."  He did and I made a quick note.  "I'll
have the rental car agency Tom-Tom it for me.  Don't you worry.  I'll find
it.  Is your mom coming?"

"Yeah, so..."

"Right.  Secret agents.  No recognition.  I got it.  How bout Saturday?"

Jeffrey giggled.  "She'll be gone after breakfast and I'll tell her I'm
going to my friend's house.  She never checks."

"We're set then.  See you tomorrow."

"Uh-huh.  Jack, this is so awesome!  I really, really wanted you to be
here."

"Sometimes things actually do work out," I said, laughing.  "I can't wait.
See ya..."

Switching the reservations to an earlier flight had cost a few bucks, but I
considered it worthwhile if it made Jeffrey happy.  He was such a rare
treasure any sacrifice seemed justified.

He was nearly twelve now and in the sixth grade, but he had still been in
fifth when I had met him browsing the classical CDs at one of the big
bookstores.  Beautiful young boys with an interest in classical music are
so improbable I just had to take a chance and attempt conversation.  We had
both enjoyed it, and when he said with obvious disappointment that he had
to go or his mother would come looking for him, I handed him a slip of
paper with the private cell number on it.

"Call me," I had whispered.  "Let's get together and talk some more.  Maybe
we can hook up and I can help you get some stuff."

"Yeah," he had whispered back eagerly, pocketing the slip.  Then, with an
impish grin, he had scampered off; but just a few hours later my phone had
rung and when I heard his shy young voice on the other end saying, "Jack?"
my heart had leaped.  We had hooked up the following day - and the rest, as
they say, was history.

Thank God for Tom-Tom.  Without its help I would never have found that damn
theater.  I was early enough to grab a quick sandwich and coffee at a
Starbuck down the street and then, when I saw people going in, I made a
dash for the lobby through the rain and followed a group of mothers with
small children into the auditorium.  Free of any worries about being
recognized I took a good seat three rows back in the center and settled in.
Behind me the theater filled with a crowd of parents, friends and relations
of the young performers.  Then the lights dimmed and the curtain went up.

I won't go into detail.  If you have been to occasions like this you know
what they are like, and if not you haven't missed anything.  The music was
OK since it was off CDs, and the scenery/lighting effects were good enough
not to be annoying.  The majority of the performers were little girls, some
almost toddlers and the oldest about 14.

Including Jeffrey there were only four boys in the cast.  Two, costumed as
squirrels, I judged to be about six or seven years old - cute, but too
young to be of any interest to me.  Another boy was worth closer attention.
He was older than Jeffrey, thirteen or perhaps a small fourteen.  He had
pretty boy looks and a dancer's body, but somehow none of his proportions
seemed quite right.  The boy was cast in a principal part and was strong
enough to do simple lifts of the older girl who partnered him, but their
dancing, while competent, was mechanical.  None of the kids appeared to
have much talent, with one exception - Jeffrey.

I had known him intimately for close to nine months.  I had known he was a
dancer.  Yet somehow I had never had a clue how good he actually was.  He
had the other principal male part and from the moment he vaulted out from
the wings he dominated the stage.

He was made up as a wood sprite with green hair and diagonal streaks of
green and black all over his body.  For one stunning instant when he
appeared I thought he was dancing naked in body paint, and I suspect a few
others had the same thought because I heard a few gasps.  But then I
realized it was some sort of skintight bodysuit.  Except for his face and
hair, the paint had been applied to the clothing.  Even so, that damn suit
was so thin and snug it molded to him right down to his little front bulge
and the crack of his ass.  He was an eye-popping sight and I shifted in my
seat to hide an erection that lifted so fast I thought it might rip my
pants.

Like all young boys entering their growth spurt Jeffrey's legs were
developing fast and although shapely and supple, with beautifully
proportioned calf and thigh muscle, they were long in comparison to his
immature upper body.  He had the coltish look so common at his age.
Despite that the boy was so graceful, his dancing so precise, there was an
illusion of symmetry, a projection of absolute perfection in form and
movement.  Each time he vaulted I held my breath while he seemed to float
in midair, every muscles of his young body in tension, and his limbs
beautifully posed.

It was a spectacular performance, one that held the audience spellbound,
and when the music ended they leaped to their feet in spontaneous, excited
applause.  But Jeffrey was not done.  He and the rest of the cast remained
frozen in position after the music stopped, the applause washing over them
without acknowledgment.  Then the music started again, but much slower this
time.  As Jeffrey began to dance to it I recognized one of Satie's
Gymnopedies.

Dance to slow music is extraordinarily difficult, requiring extreme muscle
control and discipline.  Jeffrey was not perfect.  He was, after all, only
eleven going on twelve and could not be expected to have the mature control
of an adult.  But his performance was exquisite for a boy so young.  With
one sensuous movement after another, each flowing seamlessly into the next,
he used his body to project the emotive content of the music.  All of us in
the audience watched mesmerized as he sank to the stage floor, arched,
displaying himself, and then rolled slowly to stretch and extend again in
pose after pose of stunning beauty.

This time when the music ended there was deafening applause and even a few
calls of 'Bravo'.  Jeffrey held his final position for several heartbeats
and then slowly rose to his feet to bow deeply.  Behind him I saw the older
boy dancer lick his lips as Jeffrey's bow brought his firm round butt into
prominence.  Then the lighting changed.  A group of young girls pirouetted
forward and the music went on to a new number.

My eyes remained in Jeffrey for the remainder of the program.  He and the
other two principles had several more short numbers before the performance
ended, but Jeffrey's were the only ones worth watching.  He got sustained
applause each time, and at the end, after a spectacular finish that
included more dazzling leaps, he came out alone, chest heaving and his
costume wet with sweat.  To my delight the slow Gymnopedies music started
again and he gave an encore, this time with the thin bodysuit so molded to
his form that it was as if he really were dancing naked.  When he arched
up, slender body caught in the lights, I could see every detail of his
package and I heard one of the mothers next to me whisper, "It's a good
thing he's so young.  They'd never get away with it if he were older."

I smiled to myself and then applauded vigorously at the end along with the
rest.

When the curtain came down for the last time, I waited for the rear seats
to empty and then followed the crowd to the foyer.  There I loitered,
pretending to read some theater handouts until Jeffrey emerged from
backstage wearing shorts and a shirt, his dark blonde hair still streaked
with green paint.  He was greeted by his mother, a stylishly dressed,
middle-aged woman who kept looking anxiously at her watch while chatting to
the people who closed around offering congratulations.  Then she was
ushering her son through the crowd toward the street doors.  I maneuvered
so Jeffrey could see me and, just before they left, while his mother was
opening the glass door, Jeffrey turned to look at me.  I gave him a covert
fist pump and his face lit with a smile.  I waited five minutes to give
them plenty of time to leave and then exited myself.

Rain was still falling as Tom-Tom guided me back to the interstate and on
to my hotel.  The company had given me a nice room and knowing that Jeffrey
and I would be spending some time there, I checked to be sure all the
amenities were in place.  Jacuzzi vents lined the tub, there was plenty of
room in the shower, big fluffy towels were wracked on a warmer, and by the
sink was an overflowing basket of the exotic soaps, shampoos and body
lotions Jeffrey liked so much.

Out in the bedroom I had a big, flat screen TV, although it hardly mattered
since Jeffrey was not a TV kid.  I tested the king sized mattress for
springiness and noted that nearby was enough wall space to hang a sheet as
a backdrop for pictures.  Jeffrey liked posing for pictures.

It only took me a minute or so to unpack and put everything away.  With the
chores done I got on the phone to the client, talked to one of the
engineers and then took off in the car for a fast food dinner and
late-night session over at the plant.

The next day was Saturday and after an early breakfast the engineer and I
were hard at it, working through the morning.  "I gotta' get to my kid's
basketball game," he told me at last, checking his watch.  "It's nearly
ten.  I'll just make it if I hurry."

"OK." I pushed my chair back from the computer console we were using.
"Let's take a break.  We've just about got this.  We can clean up the final
details Monday."

The engineer escorted me out to the main security desk and then left
hurriedly while I signed out.

"How much longer does this rain go on?"  I asked the guard, gesturing at
the plate glass windows, which were streaming with water.

"Oh, a few more days," was his vague answer.  "It's not too bad today."

Geez, I thought to myself as I dashed to my parking place, holding an arm
over my head to keep the rain out of my eyes.  What a climate.

Once the car was started, I got on my spare cell and speed dialed Jeffrey's
number.  "Hey," I said as soon as he answered.  "All clear?"

The boy giggled.  "Yeah.  She's gone.  When are you coming?"

"Thirty minutes.  Be at the corner?"

"Uh-huh.  Thirty minutes.  See ya..."

We clicked off and I got the car moving, pressing the button for Jeffrey's
address on the Tom-Tom.  "Turn right," the synthesized voice told me, and
after checking the traffic I pulled onto the highway where, to my relief,
the rain began to let up.

The sky remained leaden but I was able to turn my wipers off before
reaching Jeffrey's neighborhood.  The 'corner' where I was to pick him up
was actually a bend in the road, far enough away from his house to be out
of sight from the neighbors.  When I got there he was waiting by the side
of the road, ready to dash around and get in on the passenger side the
moment I stopped.

"Holy shit!"  I exclaimed, as he slid into the seat.  "What an outfit!"

"Like it?"  The boy smiled and vamped for me, crossing his ankles and
sitting up, supporting himself with his hands back down behind him on the
seat.  He licked his lips and then giggled.

There were still a few streaks of green in his dark blonde hair but that
was not what had me shaking my head in admiration.  He was wearing a very
skimpy pair of red short shorts, much too small for him, barely getting
down to the bottom of his butt crease.  As a top he had on a sleeveless
gold half shirt, which ended at the vee of his ribs leaving all his lean
stomach and taut waist bare.  The costume was completed by white knee socks
with gold bands around their tops, and a pair of red and gold Nikes.
Around his neck Jeffrey had a string of wooden surfer beads interspersed
with gold and red flakes of coral.

Short shorts, half shirts and knee socks had been a style popular with
young boys in the late 70s, but I hadn't seen it in years and Jeffrey's
spin included a touch of lip-gloss and a subtle hint of eye shadow.  He
wiggled his shoulders and then smiled prettily, batting his mascara'd
eyelashes at me.

"What do you think, Jack?"

"Wow.  Nineteen seventy-nine is back!  Donkey Kong, Space Invaders and
Raiders of the Lost Arc!  I'm impressed, sport!  Where did you find all the
vintage clothes?"

"They're stuff I, like, outgrew," Jeffrey explained, leaning back on his
seat.  "Mom thinks they got thrown out, but I kept them and made a few
adjustments."  He gave me a smug glance and then looked down at the smooth
swell of muscle in his naked thighs.  "I like the way it shows off my
legs."

With a few loving strokes he ran his palms over the silky smoothness of his
upper legs and when I reached over for a quick feel of my own he parted
them and leaned further back.  "I think my legs are like my best part right
now, don't you?"

"Oh, I don't know," I teased, grinning.  You've got a few other things that
are pretty nice."  My palm slid up into his groin, feeling the hard jut of
a little stiffy beneath the tight shorts and Jeffrey giggled, tried to part
his legs even more and then reached over to grab my crotch, digging his
fingers into the bulge of my jeans.

"OK," I told him, laughing and pushing his hand away.  "Save it for later.
Let's get going."

Once I had the car in motion, Jeffrey set up to examine the Tom-Tom.
"These are so cool."

"Yeah.  I'd never have found that theater without it.  By the way..." I
reached over to squeeze his bare knee, "Great recital, sport.  I am so
very, very glad I was there to see you dance.  God!  What a performance!
No shit, sport - I was blown away.  I had no idea you were that good."

Jeffrey turned to look up at me with an expression that melted my heart.
"You really liked it?"

"Liked it...  Geez, I loved it!  If I had a tape I'd watch a million times.
Did anyone have a camera going?  I'd buy a tape if somebody made one."

The boy nodded.  "Mr. Keary did.  I can get you one."

Mr. Keary was his dance teacher.  I gave Jeffrey's knee another squeeze.
"I'll give you some money.  Ask them for a couple of copies so I can have a
backup.  Say... I hope you don't wear outfits like this to dance class!"

This idea amused Jeffrey and he broke into another giggle.  "Uh-uh!"  He
gave me a mischievous look.  "I gotta' be like super straight all the time
at dance class or else creepy Keary would be all over me.  Plus I'd make
Danny jealous."

"Who's Danny?  That older kid?"

"Uh-huh."  Jeffrey paused to smooth an eyebrow with his fingertip.  "Danny
and Mr. Keary have a thing going.  They don't think anyone knows, but some
of us do.  They've been doing it since Danny was ten."  The boy grinned at
me and then went on, "Mr. Keary is always telling Danny how good he is, but
I don't think he's so good."

"He's not."  I nodded in agreement.  "He's OK - probably better than most
kids.  But he's not even in the same galaxy with you, sport.  Trust me."

Jeffrey squirmed a little in his seat and I could tell I had made him
happy.  After looking down at his lap for a moment he said, "I got more
applause than Danny did."

"Not just more.  You got way more.  Everyone was standing.  I even heard
some cheers.  How does it feel to be a star, sport?"

This made him giggle once more and he gave me another delighted grin.
Leaning forward he peered at the Tom-Tom, watching the display change and
then asked, "Do you really like the way I look?"

A need for constant reassurance had been there from the beginning and I
supplied all I could.  "You bet," I told him with another quick grin.  "You
look awesome!"

Satisfied, Jeffrey settled back in his seat.  "It's like so boring to have
to fake straight all the time."  He looked over at me.  "I like get so sick
of it."  He made a gagging noise and put a finger in his mouth.  "I gotta'
be straight at school, I gotta' be straight at dance class, I gotta' be
straight with my friends...  The only time I can sissy is when I'm with
you."

I shot him a quick grin.  "Good thing we met, huh?"

"I'll say."  The boy relaxed for a few moments and then straightened up to
give me an anxious look.  "You're sure we're not going to a mall that's too
close?"

"It's all the way on the other side of the city," I said, reassuring him.
"Don't you worry.  There won't be anyone there who knows you.  You can
sissy all you want."

"Yeah!" Jeffrey said, leaning back.  Then he suddenly threw his arms up in
exultation.  "Sissy!  Sissy!  Sissy!  I can finally be me!"

We kept talking for the half hour that it took to get to the mall.  The boy
liked talking and I enjoyed listening to him.  He was finishing a funny
story about something in school when Tom-Tom directed me to an exit and
then around an intersection to the mall entrance.

"Oooo," Jeffrey cooed, leaning forward.  "It's big."

"One of the biggest," I assured him.  We drove around until I found a
parking slot and then, before we got out of the car, Jeffrey insisted that
I check him over.

"Do my eyes look all right, Jack?"

"Perfect," I assured him.  "Here, see for yourself."  I adjusted the mirror
for him and he leaned close to it.

"OK," he said finally.  He was about to open his door but I told him to
wait.

"Oooo, that's nice Jack," the boy simpered after I had walked around to
pull his door open and hand him out.

I straightened his shirt for him and then smoothed the tight short shorts,
allowing my palm to linger on that firm little butt while Jeffrey wiggled
it for me.  "I know I have a nice one," he said, giggling.

"The best, sport," I assured him, patting it.  "Let's go."

Even before we got to the entrance I caught a few heads turning to look at
Jeffrey.  The admirers were all men except for one older boy with spiked
orange hair.  Jeffrey walked beside me with quiet dignity, doing nothing
exaggerated, but with just the right touch of Sissy to let it be visible.
Once inside where there were a lot more people I found it harder to spot
people looking, but now and then I would catch a turning head or a pair of
eyes sliding away and know that he was still attracting attention.
Surprisingly, quite a few of the looks came from boys his own age and when
I mentioned this Jeffrey seemed delighted.

"I want them all to know, Jack," he said, taking my hand.  "I want everyone
to see me and know that I'm your fuck boy, and that I take you up my butt
and suck your cock and swallow all your cum."

"Oh, I think they'll know," I said, lifting one eyebrow and smiling.  "The
kids will, especially, and some of the teens, too.  Why don't we make the
message even more obvious with some jewelry?  How bout a gold ankle chain
and some wrist rings?"

"Ooooo," Jeffrey exclaimed, his eyes lighting up.  "Can we?  Oh, Jack -
that would be like so awesome!"

Later, at lunch in the food court, Jeffrey had a small chicken salad with
iced tea and sat admiring the plastic loops on his wrist.  "What do the
colors mean again, Jack?"

"This one shows you've kissed with tongue," I explained, pointing.  "These
are to show you had it in your mouth and these here..." I gave him a sly
smile, "These mean you've gone all the way.  I gave you a few extra
because... You know..."

Jeffrey giggled and grinned at me with delight.  He leaned back in his
chair, extending his smooth muscular legs, and regarded the glistening gold
chain fastened around the sock on his left ankle.  "Why is it called a
slave chain?"

"Because it signifies that you're hooked up with a steady and will do
anything he wants."

"Ooooo, I like that."  He leaned back even further, posing with one knee
half pulled up.  "I've got the nicest legs here, Jack," he told me proudly.
"I don't see any that are better.  Even the girls.  Do you?"

"Nope.  You're the best, sport.  Hands down.  I'll always think you're the
best kid in the world.  I'm proud to be with you."

Jeffrey smiled happily.  "You're always so nice to me."

"Is there anything else you want?"  I asked.  "DVDs, CDs, clothes?"

"Mmm..." The boy thought about it.  "Some clothes I guess.  I can always
use stuff for school.  Straight stuff, though.  And not too much or my mom
will notice."

I took him to the Gap and let him pick out the things he wanted and then we
headed back toward the entrance where the car was parked.  I carried the
purchases so Jeffrey could strut at my side, new jewelry flashing and his
pretty young body on display.

"Ooooo," he said, tugging at my arm.  "Look, Jack..."

It was a Victoria's Secret and Jeffrey smiled up at me, eyes dancing with
mischief.  "Should we, Jack?  You can buy me something really naughty."

"I can get you better stuff than anything they'll have, sport," I told him.
"Cool your jets.  Sissying is one thing, but you go in there and it's
called 'flaming'.  I like you as a boy, not a girl.  Come on..."

With a happy giggle Jeffrey followed at my side and we continued toward our
entrance.  "I was just having fun," he assured me, taking my hand.

"I know, sport."  I bent down and Jeffrey kissed me on the cheek causing
several heads to turn, but neither of us cared.  Jeffrey wiggled his butt
at one older boy who quickly turned away, and then he gave the finger to a
kid that was gawking at us as he approached with a family group.

"Jealous?"  Jeffrey said to the kid, smiling as he went by, and the boy
turned to look back twice over his shoulder while walking away from us.

"Oooo, that was like so fun," Jeffrey said later as we drove off in the
car.  "Did you see how that boy looked at me, Jack?"  With a giggle he
stroked a small palm along his bare thigh.  "I just know he was thinking I
let you fuck me."  He gave me an anxious look.  "He was, wasn't he, Jack?"

I chuckled and reached over to caress him.  "You got your message out loud
and clear, sport.  I'm sure that's what he was thinking."

Jeffrey grinned.  He leaned back and smoothed the tight short shorts over
his hips, pushing on the cloth to emphasize the bulge in his groin.  Then,
with an impish smile he asked, "Are we going to the hotel now?"

"Yup."

It was starting to rain again and I exercised all my willpower to stay
focused on the traffic, ignoring the heady bundle of boy sex seated next to
me.  I was only partially successful because Jeffrey began rubbing himself
through the shorts and to keep from watching I asked, "Did you get enough
to eat?  Should I stop for something?"

"No."  The boy shook his head and then stretched, opening his legs.  "I
have enough."  He gave me a coy glance.  "This morning I took a good poop
and cleaned real good in the shower.  I don't want anything to be in the
way there for later.  Besides..." leaning toward me he slipped a small hand
into my crotch.  "If I get hungry I'll drink some Tiger's Milk."

"OK," I told him, pushing his hand away.  "Let me drive.  I don't want to
wreck us."

Jeffrey giggled and then, after another glance at me said, "I don't think
Danny cleans himself very well.  When he comes out of creepy Keary's office
he always smells.  I know they do it in there."

"I got no interest in Danny," I assured the boy, reaching over to slide a
palm up his silky thigh.  "Believe me, sport.  When you're around, that kid
is nowhere.  He doesn't have a chance."

As my hand approached his groin Jeffrey gave a little squeak of pleasure
and pulled my fingers onto his bulge.  Beneath his shorts the boy's little
three-inch worm was a hard jut of rigidity.  I rubbed him through the cloth
as he strained his sweet thighs apart.

"Are we almost there, Jack?"

I sure as hell was.  I squeezed to contain myself and nodded.  "Yeah.  One
more exit."

When we walked into the hotel I glanced around, saw that the lobby was
deserted and hustled Jeffrey into the elevator.  "It's probably not a good
idea for you to draw attention here," I told him and the boy snickered.
Inside my room he cooed over all the fittings, explored the bathroom and
came out holding one of the bottles of shampoo.

"Oooo, this is my favorite, Jack.  Can I take some home?"

"I'll buy you all you want, sport," I said, hugging him.

Jeffrey squirmed against me, rubbing himself on my thigh.  Then he looked
up, eyes glowing.  "I don't wanna' wait.  Do you?"

"Hell no."

I picked him up and after placing him on the bed I watched as he removed
socks and shoes.  When he stretched out, his long shapely legs glistening
in the room's dim illumination, our eyes locked together and he whispered,
"Fuck me, Jack."

I needed no more invitation.  As quickly as I could I stripped and sat down
on the bed next to him.  Jeffrey reached for me and gave a little moan of
pleasure as I took him in my arms, stretching out by his side.  He lifted
his arms so I could remove his shirt, uncovering the lean smoothness of his
immature upper body and I when licked the tiny hard points of his nipples
the boy arched, tensing for me in a pose that brought every little swell of
muscle in his dancer's body to sharp definition.

Like all boys, Jeffrey was too impatient to want much foreplay.  A moment
later he was pushing my hand down to his tight shorts and lifting his hips
to let me work them down, first to his knees, then over his ankles and off
his dainty feet.  Beneath the shorts a narrow strip of shiny cloth was
tented up, barely containing the stiff little rod straining against it.

"What's this?"  I asked and Jeffrey giggled with delight.

"A surprise.  I made it for you."

The boy had taken an old Speedo and cut away nearly all the cloth, leaving
only the waist string, a scrap of material in the front and a string to run
through the crack of his ass.  I stroked a fingertip over the silky
fabric-covered outline of his rigid boy stick.

"I love it."

Lifting my head I kissed the boy and whispered, "I'll buy you more, sport,
so you can play with them.  But this is the one I'll always like best."

Jeffrey hugged back and then waited impatiently for me to untie the string
and strip him.  When he was naked he took hold of me, drawing his knees up.
"Now," he begged.  "Now, Jack."

The boy had to be lubed and prepared carefully because his opening was
small for his size.  I used a mix of both KY and Hawaiian Tropic oil and
the boy stretched back, arching himself as first one and then two of my
fingers penetrated him.  Getting a third one in was always a struggle and
Jeffrey tensed as I worked it through his ring.  The stretched muscle
fluttered then tightened in spasm and the boy caught his breath.

"Hurt?"  I asked, looking up.  Jeffrey shook his head.  He never admitted
any pain to me.

I waited for the muscle to relax and then felt Jeffrey bear down.  The
opening dilated as my third finger slid in the rest of the way and I rubbed
across the small nub at the base of his penis.

"Oooooo," Jeffrey moaned, squirming.

"Nice?"

"Uh-huh."

Once I was sure he was open, I withdrew my fingers and Jeffrey straddled my
hips, facing me, while I sat up against the pillows holding by rampant
erection in place so he could squirm down onto it.

"Take your time," I told him with a kiss.

Despite all the bragging, Jeffrey was still shy and unsure when it came to
taking me into himself.  He was, after all, still eleven and only his
complete trust, a longing to give himself and the remembered pleasure of
the act enabled him to do it.  He closed his eyes in concentration,
grimacing and biting his lower lip as the blunt head of my rod squeezed
into his tight ring.

"Uh... Uh..."

I held him with one hand while with my other I kept my rigid shaft in
place.  "Bear down," I whispered.  "Push like you're taking a dump."

The first time it had taken ages just to get the head in, but Jeffrey had
practiced opening himself since then and now took enormous pride in being
able to sheath my entire length.  I felt his slender little body tense as
he pushed with his belly muscles and after a fluttering spasm his ring
loosened.

Millimeter by millimeter my blunt tip advanced inward and then with a
sudden pop it was through, enveloped by hot soft moistness.

Jeffrey's head pulled back and he gave a few puling cries,
"Ah... Ah... Ah..."

"That's good, baby boy," I whispered, stroking him.  "Oh, that was so good.
You did it perfect..."

Holding myself still while the boy accommodated to the fullness penetrating
him, I kept stroking and whispering until he was ready to continue.  Bit by
bit he relaxed and then his arms tightened around me once more while he
grimaced, squirming to slide his stretched ass down against the fist I was
using to hold my embedded rod upright.

"Uhhhhhhh..."  The boy's head pulled back, his eyes staring up blankly, all
his concentration inward.

"Yeah," I whispered, stroking him.  "Yeah..."

I took my fist out of the way and Jeffrey squirmed, taking me in deeper,
and then after a deep breath he grimaced and thrust himself all the way
down until his stretched ass was locked against my groin.

"Uhhhhhhhhh..." he groaned, twisting on my impaling rod.
"Ah... Uhhhhhhh..."

I pulled him close to kiss him; sliding my hands down his firm back to
caress the glossy sides of his hips and butt cheeks.  "That was fantastic,
Jeffrey.  You've got all of it, sport."

The boy lay panting against me and writhed a little to feel the movement of
my tip in his lower belly.  "Ah... Ah..."

"Nice?"

He nodded his head.  "It's like way up inside me."

"You're the best, sport."  I kissed him again and the boy's mouth opened to
admit my tongue.

"Ooooo... Oooo..." he moaned, squirming again as our lips parted.  He began
to use his legs, lifting himself to slide up and then back down on my
shaft.  I helped a little, my hip lifting to meet him each time he sat
down, but I let Jeffrey do most of the work knowing it gave him a sense of
control that he needed.

"Ooooo... Oooo, Jack..."

My hands slid on the silky smooth gloss of his flanks and hips, caressing
and rubbing.  Then, I took hold of his jutting little boner, timing my
finger strokes to go with his movements.  Jeffrey quivered with pleasure,
his eyes closing as he pistoned up and down.  When the first little
contractions pulsed in his rigid boyhood, Jeffrey started to pant and slid
on me faster.  "Ooooo... Ooooo... Jack, I'm coming!  I'm coming!"

Another contraction pulsed in his straining little shaft, stronger this
time, and Jeffrey sat down on me, squirming as I thrust to meet him.  His
entire body tensed and he arched back, panting for breath,
"Ah... Ah... Ah... Ah..."

Suddenly he jerked, bucking to throb after throb, pulsing contractions I
could feel in his hard boner and the walls of the hot tight cavity that
sheathed my rigid tool.

The boy shuddered as his dry orgasm passed.  "Ooooo, Jack..." he moaned;
then he was pushing with his legs again, sliding up and down in a frenzy,
desperate for another spasm.

"Go for it, sport," I told him, thrusting to match his rhythm.  "Ride 'em
cowboy!"

Twice more Jeffrey pumped himself to an immature dry climax, and then I
could tell he was tiring.  I rubbed his little boner as fast as I could,
sliding my fingertips up over the circumcised tip while thrusting with my
hips and urging the boy on with my other hand.  "Go for it, sport!  Do it,
cowboy!"

Panting and straining, my little dancer bounced up and down, eyes and mouth
opened wide in ecstasy.  Pressure built within my loins and I let it come,
holding back only at the very last moment while I waited for my young
partner.  "Now," I pleaded.  "Now, sport..."

With a final effort Jeffrey took himself over the edge.
"Ooooo... Ooooo..." he groaned and as the final dry spasm exploded through
him I released as well, my straining rod throbbing within the boy, flooding
his rectum with semen.

The moment his jerking stopped Jeffrey collapsed against me, slender chest
heaving.  "Yeah.  Oh yeah..." I whispered, stroking the boy and feeling the
rapid flutter of his heart against my chest.

After I had softened and slid out of him I stretched out on my side and
Jeffrey cuddled against me, pulling one smooth muscular leg up over my hip.
"Ohhhh..." he whispered.  "Ohhhh, Jack..."

We shared kiss after damp kiss while I massaged the firm glossy mounds of
his butt.  Then I smiled down at him.  "Nice?"

The boy nodded solemnly.

"Let me get a picture."

He released me and rolled onto his back while I got the digital camera.
Just as he enjoyed performing for an audience, Jeffrey loved displaying
himself in front of a camera.  I took several pictures of him sprawled in
post orgasmic bliss on the sheets, and then he posed for me, sitting with
one knee up, a coy smile on his face.

"Let's try the dance poses," I told him and he nodded eagerly.  We hung a
sheet against the blank wall beside the bed and Jeffrey gave me pose after
pose while I took shots, paused to adjust the lighting and then took more.

"Now the bed again," I suggested.  Jeffrey giggled and rolled onto it,
taking positions on his stomach, back and side while I moved around,
clicking the shutter.

"Oooo, I like this one," he said later as we lay together reviewing all the
pictures.

"Yeah.  I finally got the light just right on that."

The boy squirmed to look closer.  "You can see all my muscles."

"Uh-huh.  Like a statue."  I pursed my lips, considering, and then said,
"Your legs really are your best part right now."

This brought a giggle from Jeffrey.  "My butt's pretty, too."

"Yeah.  I guess so."

More giggling, "And this..."  He pulled my hand down to the rigid little
shaft jutting from his groin.  With the passive ardor of youth he had
remained stiff all through the picture taking.

I grinned and rubbed him.  "I guess you got a bunch of good parts.  Doesn't
this thing ever go down?"

This made the boy giggle uncontrollably and he buried his face in my chest,
shaking with laughter.

"Jack?"  He asked, after calming down.

"Yeah?"

He turned onto his back and looked up at me.  "Next year, when I like go to
junior high..."

"Yeah, yeah... Showers in Phys Ed.  What if you get a stiffy.  I know."
This was a subject I had reassured him about before.  "Listen, sport."  I
stroked his lean belly.  "You'll be fine in seventh grade.  You're gonna'
get top marks and be a star, just like always.  And in Phys Ed, you're
gonna' do just like I told you.  In and out of the shower fast, roll your
towel into a rattail and then start snappin' your buddies."  Jeffrey
squeaked as I flicked a finger against him.

"There's no way to keep a stiffy while you're playin' Towel Snap," I
assured him, "Trust me, you'll be fine.  Besides," I gave the boy a fond
smile and stroked him again, "You won't be the only one playing at being
straight.  There'll be others."

"Yeah."  Jeffrey squirmed a little and then pulled his head back to look up
at me.  "I think there's like one in my class.  An' there's like this big
kid up the street...  He like asked me over to play video games."

"Older kid?"

"Uh-huh.  He's in high school."

"Remember what I told you.  Always have them make the first move.  And play
hard to get.  No goin' all the way until at least the third date."

"I remember."  Jeffrey giggled a little and then sighed, cuddling against
me.  "I wish it didn't have to be so complicated, Jack."

I hugged him.  "It's always complicated, sport.  People are complicated.
But it'll get better.  You only have to front straight in junior high and
high school.  Once you get to college you can sissy all you want.  It
doesn't matter there."

"Oooo... That's like so long from now."

"It'll be here before you know it."

Jeffrey reached down to rub my hardening member, which was at last showing
signs of life.  "I think I like it best just with you."

"You won't always."

Under Jeffrey's stroking fingers my shaft lifted into full rigidity and he
looked up at me in hope.  "Can we do it again now?"

I grinned at him.  "Sure, sport."

With a happy giggle Jeffrey rolled over onto all fours.  Hugging a pillow
to his chest he leaned forward to stick his firm rounded butt up in the air
where he wiggled it provocatively.  "I'm ready!"

"I just bet you are."

Lubing the boy needed a gentle touch because he was tender from being
stretched.  Jeffrey squirmed when I inserted a slick finger and slid it
back and forth over his tiny nub.  When I reached around with my other hand
to rub his stiff little shaft he arched in pleasure, trying to raise his
lovely butt up higher.

"Ooooo...  Oooo, Jack..."

"Feel good?"

"Oooo, yes..."

When I stopped and squeezed out more KY to smear over my own jutting
erection the boy writhed impatiently and asked, "What are we doin'
tomorrow, Jack?"

"There's a skating rink not far from that mall we went to.  I'll pick you
up as soon as you can get clear and we'll go there.  It's a sissy safe
place."

Jeffrey giggled, squirming and wiggling his pert little bottom.  "That'll
be fun.  I can skate good."

"You can do everything good, sport.  You're a dancer.  I think we should
have a contest and see how many boys make a pass at you."

This brought forth more giggling and Jeffrey pressed his face into the
pillow to muffle his laughter.  "Then what will we do?" he asked, when he
was able to lift his head again.

I smiled.  "There's a place I know where we can park.  I'll show you how to
make out in the back seat."

"Ooooo, Jack.  For real?"

"For real."

Jeffrey writhed happily, perhaps thinking of what exotic contortions he
could resort to confined in the rear of my rental car.  He twisted his head
around to give me a coy grin.  "Then we come back here?"

"Oh yes," I assured him.  "Then we come back here."

"Good.  Because here is always best."  With that he clutched the pillow,
arched again and wiggled back and forth.

"You all set?"  I asked.

Jeffrey giggled and nodded.  "Uh-huh!"

I leaned over him, guiding the blunt tip of my rod into his tight boy
pussy, and he moaned with pleasure, pulling his head back to arch his back
and open himself wide.

"Ooooo...  Oooo, Jack...  In me...  Stick it in me..."

The head of my rod popped through and Jeffrey thrust upward, driving in
half my length.

"Ohhhhhhhhh," he groaned, shuddering; and then as I sank in the rest of the
way, impaling the boy on my full-length, a throbbing pulsation jerked him,
making him quiver.  "Do me, Jack," he pleaded.  "Do me...  Do me, do me...
Ooooooooo...  Make it go forever!"

"I'll try my little dancer," I whispered, knowing all too well how swiftly
our time together might pass.

But like him, I wished with all my heart that the two of us could go on
forever...

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Hope you enjoyed it!  This story is the sixth of a twenty-four part series
that features the same central character.  There will be something for
everyone - single hook ups, doubles, twins, first times and hand offs.
Drop me a line if you have a favorite chapter (I do, but won't reveal it).
Look for a new chapter or two each month.

----------------------------------------------------
Thanks for taking the time to read my story and if you'd like to comment,
my e-mail address is:

			hunterjoe45@yahoo.com

I will try to answer all serious mailings.  My on-line access is very
limited.  Rants and ravings will not get consideration.

To all you readers who enjoy these stories, please support Nifty with
contributions and keep the Archive online.  Check the Nifty home page for
ways to make contributions.  Without this Archive those of us who write for
you will lose a wonderful resource to get our stories out.

You can find links to all my other stories on Nifty under my name, Joe
Hunter, listed under the J's (for Joe) in the prolific authors list.  I
hope you will read and enjoy!

All the Best.  Joe