Date: Wed, 1 Jun 2005 21:12:02 +0200
From: 3mcstefan <3mcstefan@wanadoo.fr>
Subject: Show Break

Warning: this story includes sex between men and an underage boy.

Show break

It was few after 7:30 PM when Francois Lefevre, the young, handsome, very
masculine manager of the security staff at the Opera de Paris heard a knock
at the door of his office.

Come in, please

Because of his job he carried on for several years now, Francois Lefevre
was used to come across, along the huge XIXth century building lobbies and
rooms, many male dancers wearing those thin, light tights or even just
dance belts with what could be considered like very few modesty. Beautiful
young, fit male bodies, sometimes more than half-naked... constant hugging,
patting and brushing of the young boys who seemed to sensuously enjoy the
intimacy induced by their job. One night, he discovered two kids wildly
sucking each other in the showers. Francois didn't think anything of it. He
was straight as an arrow, happily married and had never questioned his own
sexuality.

But the vision framed in his office door at the moment was something
completely different. Stepping in the room, were Bob and Vince, the Flying
Muscle Twins, whose new show "NN" (for Nearly Naked), was performed on the
stage of the Opera de Paris. Tonight was the opening night, so their visit
in the security staff department, barely an hour before the show, was quite
unexpected, to say the least. The Twins were already "dressed up" for the
show. That means that those two heavily muscled, all over smooth and
suntanned Muscle Gods, whose incredibly handsome and sexy physique was in
every magazine, sometimes in its integrity, were wearing... well, were
wearing... something which, just in itself, left Francois Lefevre
speechless.

Francois, standing up to welcome his visitors, was aware that he should be
saying something, or at least, stop staring at those unbelievable male
bodies, and even more at what barely concealed their impressive, heavy
maleness. He knew it, but it was simply beyond his control. He couldn't
think of anything to say and, anyway, his mind just had to figure out what
these... could they be called "thongs"?... exactly were, before he could
focus on anything else.

Encased between their powerful, smooth thighs and their lower abs, each of
the Twins had an absolutely minimal pouch made of multi-faceted crystal
beads linked to each other by tiny metallic rings to create a kind of
"material", or whatever you want to call it. The gaps between the crystal
beads, although minimal, were making obvious that the Twins were entirely
smooth shaved. The jewel thongs were constantly capturing each and every
ray of light in the room and the countless facets were endlessly refracting
them, even in Francois' dimly lit office. Under the stage spotlights, they
will be glittering like diamonds, without any doubt. The pouches were held
in place by some others of these small crystal beads, circling the Twins'
hips. Francois just didn't want to imagine what the backside of these
apparitions he couldn't see for now, may look like... their splendid bubble
butts entirely naked, with just a few more of these crystals beads
disappearing into their ass crack. And nothing else. God... just these
simple words had that weird effect on Francois: nothing else... the Twins
were wearing nothing else. They were nude except for that. And that was
making them even more nude than if they were naked. And...

It was Bob who first snapped out Francois Lefevre of his daydreaming.

Good evening, Mister Lefevre, Bob was saying, all smiles. We've been told
that, as the manager of the security staff of the Opera de Paris, you're in
charge of the admittance of the audience and that is what we wanted to
discuss with you.

Yes, and more precisely, we wanted to talk about the age of admittance to
the performance for the audience... Vince said in his turn.

Sirs, as you know, in France, teenagers under the age of 18 cannot be
allowed to ... well...erotic... I mean... exotic shows... Francois
stammered

You mean to performances including full nudity and live sex acts on stage??
The twins were trying to hide their amusement to Francois's embarrassment.

Well, Sirs... anyway... I've been instructed that, exceptionally, you had
required that young boys from the age of 16 could be allowed to the NN
performance and I gave all necessary orders for that to the security guards
and...

... and that is what we wanted to discuss with you.. Francois. Francois is
your first name, isn't it? Bob was coming closer to Francois Lefevre,
now. So close that Francois could actually feel the heat radiating from
Bob's nearly naked body. And tried not to think about it.

Francois... Vince had come closer in his turn...we would like you to do us
a favor. Would you mind... allow to the show... boys from the age
of... let's say... 14?

Sirs... Francois Lefevre was blushing with embarrassment...I... I just
can't... it...it is not possible and..

Francois... Bob was now touching Francois Lefevre's bulging biceps through
the sleeve of his uniform shirt... Francois, you are yourself a man into
bodybuilding... a strong man, with desires and needs, and I'm sure you can
understand that it is very important for us to... I mean to meet the
broader range of audience possible in Paris.

Vince was now talking from so close to Francois that Francois could smell
his fresh breath, see his white teeth...his tongue he was sensuously
licking his pretty lips with when he was hesitating in the choice of his
next words. Beside this... we need to get the feedback of those kids who
will be the next generation of bodybuilders. Vince jewel pouch was nearly
touching Francois Lefevre's thigh.

Sirs, I...I really don't know...

Bob was arching his back, making his chest bulge even more. His huge
nipples, crowning insanely big breasts-like tits were fully erect, begging
for some fingers, some lips to touch them. Vince had passed one arm around
his brother's shoulders and was absentmindedly touching the right nipple
which was at his hand level. Francois, who had more and more troubles to
look at his interlocutors in the eyes, distinctly felt that the bikini
brief he was wearing underneath his uniform pants was becoming tighter and
tighter every minute, but he was glad, at least, he didn't wear one of his
boxers, which would have create that inappropriate tent effect.

Well Sirs, yes.. I... that's fine, boys from 14.. I... I will give the
necessary orders.

Thank you very much Francois. We really appreciate this. Oh... and just one
more thing... if one of them look particularly good to you, would you
please be kind enough to... offer him a pass to access the wings during the
show break?

The twins were already leaving, very satisfied of their interview with the
young manager of the security staff. Francois Lefevre was now treated with
a full view of the back side of these Muscle Gods. It was worth than all he
had feared of. Or maybe better than all he had dreamed of in some secret
wet dreams. These guys had no shame, no inhibition, no modesty. Fuck. What
a pair of butts.

8:30 PM. Francois Lefevre was now standing at the feet of the grand stair
case of the Opera de Paris, under the brightly lit, huge chandeliers,
surrounded by all the multi-colored marbles, statues and paintings of the
large hall. The security staff had just started to admit people in and
Francois was checking the whole process. The reason why the Flying Muscle
Twins had chose that huge, gorgeous but very conventional in the classic
opera-style concert hall from the Second Empire was not conventional, as
for it. The Twins, who had a particular interest in such kitschy, all red
and gold environments anyway, had all the chairs removed from the countless
loggias of the Opera de Paris, and replaced by... king size beds covered
with lots of cushions, turning each of them into small bedrooms with a nice
view on the stage of course. Despite the incredibly expensive rates those
loggias had been sold at, all of them were fully booked. Their fans had
paid small fortunes for the pleasure to watch their idols perform while
enjoying some nice company in the loggia. A more modest audience will take
place right behind the orchestra, where the usual chairs were still there,
waiting.

The crowd of curious and onlookers gathering around the Opera was dense. It
was a sight to be seen that all those guys arriving Place de l'Opera and
making their entrance in the pompous concert hall, after they had climbed
the steps leading to the doors. They were coming from every side, by every
possible way: limos, luxury private cars, but also taxis or rollers for the
youngest, or simply by feet. The twins, along with their requirement about
the new set of the concert hall for the NN performance, had set a "Clothing
minimal/extreme" dress code for the audience, so the men and boys entering
the Opera were dressed or undressed in every possible or impossible
... extreme way. The most remarked arrival, though, may have been the one,
among all the white limos, of a huge black and chrome Harley-Davidson
motorbike. The two hunky bikers, other than their black boots, gloves and
shiny helmets, were clad in just leather riveted codpieces. They had parked
the monster bike right in front of the Opera and, after taking off their
helmets, they stood there for a while, straddling the mechanic beast and
enjoying the attention they got from the crowd around them. When they
finally dismounted the motorbike, they did it in a perfectly synchronized
manner, both in the same time, like glued to each other and with exactly
the same motion, in a very elegant way, like dancers in a ballet. It
suddenly became evident to the crowd around them that the passenger of the
bike on the rear seat had his dick buried deep down in the ass of the
driver. The two bikers had been fucking the whole way on the motorbike,
while driving in the Paris evening traffic. Among the Ooohhh... and
Wow... they gracefully disengaged from each other and, half-naked, headed
toward the entrance of the building.

The audience was slowly filling up the magnificent hall, strutting along a
monumental double stair case which was more used to evening gowns and
tuxedos than to what it was witnessing tonight. The only unchanged thing
was that strutting around and showing off was what all this was about,
anyway, as well in the Second Empire as tonight.

From the foot of the stair case where he was standing, Francois Lefevre had
already seen, passing bye under his amused eyes, guys in various extreme,
or minimal, or sometimes extreme and minimal attires. There was the usual
batch of Tarzans, fit guys clad in just a leopard loin cloth... the beach
wear lovers ... all tight speedos and flashy colored swimsuits in
display... the gym rats... from muscle wannabees to real international
competition level bodybuilders ... the boldest of them in g-strings of all
cuts and colours, casually flexing their muscles and posing for the
audience while climbing up the red carpeted grand staircase... the
teen-agers... they were the most extreme in the choice of their
outfits... gold lame thongs, lace pants, transparent veil shirts,
incredible hairstyle and make-up... the look and arrogance of
models... minimally clad leather men... fantasy gladiators... sexy
Poseidons... cute cherubs... men and boys of various ages, but all fit and
sexy.

The bulk of them was very nice looking and extremely sexy. The FMT's fans
were definitely emulating their idols and it was pleasant to see. Francois
Lefevre was carefully checking the dense crowd entering the concert
hall. He hadn't forget that unexpected feeling in his crotch while standing
next to the FMT and, for some reason, conscious or unconscious, he was
eager to satisfy their request, even if he was aware of the risks about his
career. To allow 14 years old kids to an erotic -- Francois didn't allow
himself to use the word "pornographic" let alone "obscene" -- performance
was a risky business, indeed. Nothing he had saw so far seemed to satisfy
his quest. They were nice but... Also, there was the fact that the very
young ones, the object of Francois Lefevre's attention on request of the
Twins, were flocking together has a gang most of the time, making his task
uneasy.

Then, suddenly, he took a glance of him.

The boy, despite he looked like an angel, was cute as Hell. Very, very
young. Probably barely 14. Definitely underage. Damned security guards:
sometimes, they do their job just too well. He was blond, with curled,
shoulder length silky hair. Despite his young age, he had a very nice
built, and a muscular frame. He certainly was into various sports,
already. Entirely smooth, his flawless skin had a slight all over tan with
no tan lines. He was the "all tits and ass" style. His little bubble butt
was perfectly round, with a firm but soft look, and was seductively
bouncing when he walked. His thighs seem to be strong for his age, so do
his arms and shoulders. Ideally matching his pretty butt, the boy has a
stunning pair of round, full boy tits he was proudly sporting, puffing his
chest a bit. Long legs, thin waist, promisingly broad shoulders, the
ideally proportioned boy was aimed to become a splendid specimen of the
male human race in a few years. For now, he was the cutest of kids. If
Francois Lefevre could tell about such details from where he stood, it is
just because the boy was virtually naked. Not completely naked, though. His
costume, if one could call it a costume, was the boy's pride, actually, as
he had made it himself in purpose to attend his idols' performance. Very
cleverly, the boy had sprayed with golden painting a little sea shell he
had pasted inside one of those leather cockrings with metallic clips to
adjust them. Despite its small size, the golden shell contained perfectly
his little privates and, held in place with the inner cockring, it left the
boy naked other than that, with not even the straps of an ordinary thong or
anything. To compliment the all gold look of his skin, blond hair and
little golden thong-shell, the boy was wearing some glittering golden dust
in his hair and golden lipstick on his putty, sensuous lips. His whole look
was of a barocco cupid. He was just lovely.

As if to help Francois Lefevre in his difficult choice, right at that same
moment, while he was nearly upstairs, the little angel-boy accidentally
dropped his entrance ticket. When he bent down to pick it up, as he was at
a higher level than him, Francois had briefly been treated with a full view
of his open ass crack and, Francois would have swear it, of his little dark
pink, tight ass hole. Shit. Right there in the middle of the hall of the
Opera de Paris. By some weird mind connection, the boy had perceived
Francois' stares and, once he had picked up his ticket, he glanced at him
above his shoulder. Then, briefly making contact with the uniformed hunk,
he seductively brushed his cute little bubble butt while resuming his walk.

Francois Lefevre quickly made a sign to one of the security guards whose
job was to dispatch the audience according to the location of their
seat. Obviously, the kid had purchased one of the cheapest tickets, at the
lower level, behind the orchestra. There, he will be lost in the crowd and
Francois will never be able to find him again. The security guard quickly
understood and directed the boy to one of the first row loggias where some
room were still available on the king size bed replacing the chairs. The
kid had a puzzled look on his face, glanced again at Francois and followed
the goon who eased him into the red velvet loggia.

9:45 PM. Francois Lefevre checked his clock watch. 15 minutes more and the
first part of the FMT will end. It will be show break. It was time,
now. Heading to the loggia he had directed the angel-kid one hour ago, he
bumped into the goon he had instructed to stand still. The big brute had a
stupid grin on his face while stroking his erect member through his pants.

Boss... is he cute! You're going to have a good time with him, for
sure. That little fuckable butt and...

Stop that, you nut. He is not for me.

Trying to ignore the doubtful look of the security guard's face, Francois
Lefevre entered the loggia. After a brief moment he used both to get used
to the darkness and to regain his composure, he spotted the blond little
angel, embraced with another twink on the large bed. Barely older than him,
the other boy had long brown hair tied in a pony tail going down to the
small of his back and was very good looking, too. Without missing a beat of
their idols' performance, the two boys were enjoying each other on the bed,
caressing and kissing each other. The boy with the long pony tail had his
mid-finger buried in the ass hole of the blond little angel, who obviously
enjoyed it and was giggling and moving his hips, begging for more. For some
reason, the word "lesbians" came to Francois' mind, along with that feeling
of tightness in his crotch, again. Damned. Those boys were cute like two
chicks in a bed. A straight guy's fantasy. He was getting harder and harder
every minute. Francois' entrance had remained unnoticed, so the blond kid
jumped with surprise when Francois caught him by one shoulder.

Hey, you...

Oh, Sir... I'm sorry Sir, but... everyone is doing it here,
tonight... and... oh I'm sorry Sir, please, please...

That's OK, come on. Listen. Would like to meet the Twins in, let's say... a
short time?

Oh, are you serious, Sir... ?Really? Oh yes, yes, yes... I can't believe
it, Oh shit...

OK. Fine. Come along.

With that, to the great disappointment of his partner, the hunky Francois
Lefevre took the angel boy out of the bed the way one catch a kitten and
dragged him out of the loggia.

The kid was over excited. Francois held him by the hand, walking along the
promenoir of the Opera. Trying to match Francois' pace, the kid was
struggling. It was a sight to see, that big, masculine uniformed guy
dragging by the hand the prettiest boy ever, his naked cute ass bouncing to
the rhythm of his hurried walk. Passing bye the long bar in the Salon des
Glaciers, Francois Lefevre brutally stopped and, snapping his fingers to
the barman, grabbed a flute of Dom Perignon he held to the boy.

Drink.

The look of the barman at this nearly naked cute kid with Francois brought
to the latest's mind the words "Ruined reputation". He will never be able
to explain.

Francois took advantage he was sipping his glass of champagne to have a
closer look to the kid. He wasn't cute. He was a perfection.

What's your name, Kid?

Ricky, Sir.

Ricky, a naïve look on his angel face, was forming a O with his sensuous,
boyish lips on the edge of the champagne flute. Lowering it, he licked his
shiny lips, keeping his mouth slightly open. Visions of enormous cock heads
forcing this cute orifice, of warm juice dripping from this chin rushed to
Francois Lefevre's mind. He immediately did his best to erase them. The
best way for that was probably not to check the rest of the boy. Francois
briefly wondered how such a small sea shell could contain entirely the boy
manliness, but it did. How it was held in place, Francois preferred not to
try to figure it out. While Francois was nervously standing up, the boy was
sited on one of the high stools in front of the bar, in a very casual pose,
a foot on the top of the stool, the other one dangling, his little smooth
pink ass hole shamelessly displayed. Francois was thinking about the boy
with the pony tail and wondered how it would feel to lick his own thick mid
finger and to insert it in the kid's anus. To slid it back and forth. To
finger fuck him. Right here, right now, in front of anybody's eyes. To make
him moan with pleasure.

Impatiently, he took the half empty glass flute from Ricky's hands, placed
it on the bar and, under the sarcastic looks of the barman, resumed his
fast walk along the corridors of the Opera, still dragging the kid by the
hand.

His knock at the Twins door getting no reply, Francois Lefevre entered the
room, Ricky at his side. The FMT had just came back to their private
changing room after that first part of the show. They were still wearing
one of the numerous outfits they had on during the show, glittering flashy
blue-green thongs, covered with matching sequins. Except that Vince's was
pulled down under his enormous, smooth balls because his hard dick was
disappearing till the root into Bob's mouth.

Oh...! Ricky said.

Errr... Sirs? Francois said With a loud slurping noise, Vince pulled out
his huge erect member from his brother's mouth. The monster cock stood
still, pulsating and throbbing, dripping .

Hello again, Francois... Bob said, standing up with a perfect natural. With
the back of his hand, he quickly swept out some saliva mixed up with precum
he had on the chin. And you are...?

Good evening, Sir. His name is Ricky and he is... well, I thought
that... you...

You did well, Francois. You did perfectly well and we are very grateful to
you for introducing us to Ricky. Hello Ricky...! Bob and Vince's eyes were
insanely shining while they were scanning the cute boy with his tiny golden
sea shell.

Ricky, who was experiencing the time of his life, replied with a shy
Hello...! in his turn

Well, Sirs...I'm going to leave you , now. I do hope I've been helpful to
you with... that, and...

No, no...not at all, Francois. We definitely want you to stay. One never
know. This young man may be dangerous, or armed...! Bob said, with a wink
to Francois, ignoring his brother who tried not to burst laughing. Have a
seat, Francois and let's get to know each other better. Come over here
Ricky, will you... My God, you are just... perfect. You look like a golden
cupid.

Fuck... Francois Lefevre worried just for himself, in his armchair. I have
the same tastes than these fags.

Ricky blushed a bit and approached Bob. They were soon joined by Vince, the
muscular Twins framing the little boy's silhouette, creating a weird but
nice and exciting contrast. The boy barely reached the two brothers belly
button level.

I hadn't realized they were that tall and heavily muscled, thought Francois
Lefevre, probably because he was tall himself and not slouch in the muscle
department

Vince, first, with just one finger, slightly brushed one of the nipples of
the kid, making him shiver instantly. He then cupped the pretty little tits
in his hands, marvelling at their softness and their firmness. They felt
very good and warm in his large hand and Ricky seemed to enjoy the touch
very much, too. An all tits and ass boy. And Vince was a tits man. Vince
was now gently sliding his index between the little golden shell and the
groin of the kid, caressing his soft, firm belly with the back of his
hand. How does this hold in place, Ricky...? Vince said softly in Ricky's
ear? We're always interested in new, innovative concepts for stage outfits,
and you seem to be very good at that, Ricky!

Ricky explained everything about his clever invention. Bob, then, knelt
down at Ricky's crotch level. Let me help you with that, Ricky...Cleverly,
very gently, Bob removed the golden sea shell from Ricky's crotch. Both men
gasped, including Francois Lefevre who was watching the whole scene from a
distance. The boy had a pretty, totally hairless little sex package, a pair
of smooth balls and a small boy cock which was rapidly stiffening under
Bob's manipulation. He was damn cute.

Standing up, Bob circled the boy's waist with his two large hands, and
effortlessly lifted up Ricky at his face level. You are a very, very pretty
boy, Ricky. How many years old are you, ...?

I'm 15, Sir.

You are a very, very pretty liar, Ricky... Vince said, from behind Ricky's
back. He was now facing his brother.

OK, Sir. I'm 13 and a half.

Are you sure, Ricky?

Well... I'm 13, Sir, Ricky admitted.

The three men gasped a bit, again. Francois Lefevre thought about leaving,
while he still could, but something was forcing him to stay. And watch. And
enjoy.

Still holding Ricky in front of his face, Bob suddenly brought him to his
mouth and swallowed the entire boy's sex package, his stiff cock and balls
disappearing in Bob's hungry mouth, his lips tightly stuck on Ricky's
groin. Bob was twirling his tong all around the boy's package, expertly
caressing his little sensitive cock head, licking the smooth balls, bathing
the whole small equipment with his warm saliva. He was now gyrating his
face, putting Ricky into new sensations, sucking him even more tightly. The
way Ricky was giggling was speaking volumes about how much he was enjoying
the treatment..

Vince, coming closer from behind, applied each of his strong hands on
Ricky's glutes and, spreading them a bit, started to lick the pretty smooth
crack, teasing the little hole with the tip of his thick tongue. Shortly,
he was burying it entirely into the ass lips, sending the boy to the edge
of ecstasy.

Ricky was loudly moaning. Bob and Vince were making nothing but obscene
slurping noises and Francois Lefevre was shifting from one side of his
armchair to the other one, constantly folding and unfolding his legs,
trying to find a position which could ease a bit his erection.

Finally, after a while, Bob lowered the kid. Wow, Ricky... you're
gooooooood! Francois, I can tell you Ricky is good. We're in debt with you
for that! Ricky, as you are a real sexy outfit aficionado, what do you
think of our stage blue sequined posers?

Oh Sir... they're nice, they're very... hot! Ricky stammered, his knees
still weak of what he had just experienced.

Yes, they are, indeed... and they are easier to remove that your nice, sexy
little golden sea shell, Ricky. Would you give it a try? Vince and I would
be very grateful to you for that...

Ricky knelt down in his turn in front of his idols. They were obscenely
hung, their enormous organs tenting the stretchy, tiny, glittering posers
to impossible limits. A large spot of precum was soaking the sequined
material of both posers, getting larger and larger every minute. The fabric
was so thin, so tight fitting that, despite the sequins, the huge cock
heads were clearly outlined through it. Ricky could even see the piss slid,
gaping. With application, he pulled down the thread thin straps of posers
from the muscle twins, one after the other one, struggling a bit along
their powerful thighs and sliding them more easily along the smooth
calves. When he stood up again, he was rewarded by a close view of the two
most beautiful monster dicks he ever saw, even if he hadn't seen a lot,
yet. The two big heads came close to each other, so close they actually
touched each other. They were now rubbing against each other, mixing up
their precum which was profusely oozing out. Instinctively, Ricky took both
the two engorged monsters in his two small hands and start licking them,
sipping the sticky juice. He was in Heaven. He was a cupid in Heaven. He
even managed to take the two big helmets in his mouth and while Bob and
Vince were French kissing, Francois Lefevre, in a stupor, watched his
fantasy of boy oral rape becoming true under his disbelieving eyes. The O
Ricky's putty lips had shaped on the edge of the glass flute was now
stretched at his maximum to accept the two cock heads, the bubbling warm
male juice mixed with the boy saliva was dripping from the chin and
Francois was in a daze.

After a while, very gently, panting a bit, Bob said: Ricky, you were born a
cock sucker and we could enjoy your sweet lips and tongue job for hours. I
can't wait for the day you'll be able to swallow our big tools till the
back of your throat. But, for now, we have to go back on stage before long
for the second part of the show. So... I hope you will forgive us, you
little blond angel, if we ... climb up to Heaven... right now!

Vince spitting in his hand, spread the saliva on his dick head, mixing it
up with the abundant precum and, in his turn, took Ricky by the waist from
behind. Effortlessly, he lifted him up in the air and, aiming his pulsating
member to Ricky's little pink ass hole, he started to penetrate him. Ricky
experienced pain at first. The dick was bigger than his own arm. But
eventually, with the mix of saliva and precum, and because he really wanted
to get Vince into him, the pain subsided a bit and the boy felt his ass
muscles to relax and, slowly, little by little, to accept Vince's
member. Inch by inch, deeper and deeper, the horse dick was entering the
little ass hole. Ricky, at last, felt the big, smooth balls of his fucker
underneath his own. That was it. He had it all in him. It felt good. It was
sheer pleasure, now. Vince was still holding the boy up in the air, his
feet dangling above the floor. He started to move the kid's body back and
forth, making the kid's ass lips slid all along his dick at his own
pace. The well lubricated anus felt good along Vince member, now and Ricky
seemed to enjoy the ride, as well. Vince humped the boy that way, from
behind for a while. Then, holding the kid by the waist, he plugged him deep
down, pressing him again his torso, sending Ricky to new heights of
ecstasy. Arching his back, he finally hold up the boy that way, with just
the strength of his hard, powerful cock. No hands. Striking a double biceps
pose while humping the boy with steady motions of his hips, shaking him
like a rag doll, he brought himself nearly to climax that way. Vince was
close, now. And Ricky was delirious. The difference between the size of
their two frames was obscene.

How do you feel, Kid? How does it feels? Do you like it... do you like to
be fucked like that??

Yeah, oh yeah... it... it fills me up... nicely!

Then, abruptly, Vince pulled out his cock from Ricky's gaping ass hole and
still holding the kid, he headed toward Bob who was waiting in the same
position Vince has had, standing up on his spread out, slightly bent legs,
his back arched. Vince was still holding the boy from behind and,
presenting him to his brother, he impaled him himself on Bob's hard dick,
the boy facing his new fucker this time.

Ricky was delirious. His legs wrapped around Bob's waist, his arms around
his neck, he hadn't even touched the floor in between the two fucking
sessions he was put through. He had experienced countless, almost non stop
orgasms and his little stiff boy cock was constantly dripping. It had been
incredible to be relentlessly fucked from behind by Vince the way he did,
but now, Ricky was really enjoying to face his fucker. His little hands
pressed on the insanely bulging pecs of Bob, the kid was sucking the thick
tongue his fucker had stuck out, eagerly drinking his saliva. His ass
muscles were easily accepting the huge member, now and Bob's sometimes
frantic motion inside him felt nothing but highly pleasurable.

Glancing above Ricky's shoulder, Bob winked at Francois Lefevre who, in his
armchair, had untied his tie and was sweating profusely. I'm telling it to
you, Francois... this kid has the best muscle boy pussy ever! Tight and wet
and warm and smooth...

Sliding from behind between his own torso and Bob's, Ricky felt the two
strong hands of Vince cupping his little round boy breasts. That was
good. Vince was right behind him, again. Do you like it when I touch your
pretty little boy tits the way I do, Ricky? Do you like it when I pinch
your nipples...like that?? Bob's fingers were bigger that the small tits of
the boy.

Mmmm...mmmm was all the reply Vince got, as Ricky had his mouth fill up
with Bob's tongue, again.

Vince, from behind, came closer to the boy's back, circling it and his
brother's waist at the same time. He slightly bent his legs, bringing his
hips at his brother's level, right under the boy's butt. Francois Lefevre,
who was staring intensely the scene, at first, couldn't believe it. And, at
first, Ricky couldn't believe it, either. Only the FMT knew.

Helping himself with gyrating motions of his hips, slowly finding his way,
Vince put his huge cock in line with his brother's, at the boy's ass hole
entrance. They were to both fuck the kid in the same time.

No, please... Ricky said when he realized what was about to happen.

Yes, Ricky... Bob and Vince whispered softly into the boy's ear. Nothing
could have stop their lust and sex drive, now.

And it happened. Their cocks pressed against each other, very slowly,
little by little, stretching the boy's anus to impossible extend, they
fucked him. The FMT had their dicks so tightly encased in the muscle pussy
of the young boy, the feeling was so intense, they were so close, now, and
Ricky was about to pass out, nearly crying...it was time to go back on
stage for the second part of the show...they had to
cum.. now... now... NOW!

There was no way Ricky's ass could contain the gallons of hot cum the twins
endlessly spurted in it. It was flowing back along their dicks, drenching
their groins. And when they finally pulled out their softening cocks from
Ricky's ass, it was gaping so much it released part of their load, again.

The FMT had just enough time left to quickly shower and pull out their
outfits for the next act, posers made of a gossamer flesh tone veil which
left nothing to the imagination and created a blow minding nude effect when
they had them on. There was a knock at the door:

 FMT... second part of the show in 3 minutes...!!

Comin'

Ricky was fast asleep now, exhausted. Vince gently took him in his arms,
lifted him up and placed him in Francois Lefevre arms, in the armchair he
hadn't left, yet. Ricky was still sleeping.

Coming out of the room, Bob said softly to Francois:

When he will be awake, please tell him he is engaged as an apprentice!

Francois Lefevre, the handsome, straight, hunky manager of the security
staff of the Opera de Paris, stayed there for a while, with Ricky fast
asleep, cuddled in his arms. He didn't really now what to do. The boy was
warm and limp, deeply sleeping. He had on him the smell of the Twins cum
and his hair was a mess. Finally, Ricky came out briefly of his sleep and,
feeling that warm, male close contact, assumed it was one of the Twins he
was in the arms of. Not bothering to open his eyes, he just spread out his
thighs and, slightly touching his sore ass lips, whispered

Hmmm... Please... fuck me again!

Francois Lefevre unbuckled his belt.

Comments, feedback: 3mcstefan@wanadoo.fr