Date: Thu, 18 Apr 2019 21:58:53 +0000 From: Beau Kramer Subject: Sissyboy Dressup Three (gay adult-youth) Sissyboy Dressup Three (gay adult-youth) By Beautiful Creamer I don't do this stuff and you shouldn't either. What you should do is contribute to nifty.org. One – Nice to meet you George Lushbum was excited about his sleepover with his new friend, Robbie Dickinson. The 11-year-old lads had been besties for three whole months – ever since Robbie had moved to George's town from the Big City. George's Mom was wary of Robbie at first, telling George to watch out for "big city values." Whatever they were. All George saw in Robbie was a good guy who liked baseball and laughed at George's silly jokes. That Friday evening's sleepover would be the first for the boys together. And, come to think of it, George's first with anyone. George was a sweet, intelligent boy, but he hadn't been good at friend making until Robbie came along. Robbie was one of the more popular kids, though not for the usual reasons. He wasn't athletic or a macho specimen or anything. Truth was Robbie was smallish and thin. But he had the kind of personality that drew people in. Especially male people, George noticed. And not just kids their age. Older boys and men seemed to like Robbie too. So George was doubly glad that Robbie seemed to have selected him to be besties. An unusual honor for a less popular kid like George. George's Daddy drove him to Robbie's house the night of the sleepover. Daddy said hi to Robbie and his parents. And then he left. Mostly. On the way out, George's Daddy ran into Robbie and suddenly he was in no hurry to go home. George wondered: What was it about Robbie that made men, even Daddy, act like that? He planned to ask Robbie about that sometime in the next few hours. Not in an accusatory way. Just, hey, why do men like you so much? Like that. Or maybe he would see something that solved that riddle without asking. Anyway, Robbie and George had a nice meal of fish sticks and macaroni and cheese. And good conversation. George liked Robbie's Mom and Daddy. The boys then did the obligatory hour of video games until Robbie suggested that they say good night and go to Robbie's room. George thought it was a bit early, but it was Robbie's house, thus his rules. So they said their good nights and climbed the stairs. Robbie's room was a bit sparse in George's estimation; but who was George, a designer of something? So George adapted. He unpacked his bag and pulled out his shortie pajamas. [It was a warmer evening.] "The bathroom is right there, George. I'll get dressed in the closet there." That was odd. How could anyone get dressed in a closet? But George adapted. It took George all of five minutes to pee, brush his teeth, and put his peejays on. He came out of the bathroom expecting to see Robbie. No Robbie. He said, softly, "Robbie?" Then he heard from behind the ajar closet door, "I'll be a few minutes, George." Well. That was OK. George waited. Five minutes. Ten. Twenty! Finally, someone emerged from the closet. George thought it must be Robbie. Only Robbie had gone in there. But the person who was standing there smiling at George was wearing a brief, see-through, pink nightie that didn't quite cover the stiff penis just under the nightie's skirts. Oh my. But wait. There's more. Robbie (it HAD to be Robbie!) was also wearing pink, high-heeled shoes – with really thin heels. And, get this, stockings! Tan stockings that he held up with some belt thing with strands that came down and attached to the stocking tops. Bad enough. But Robbie was also wearing makeup!!! Some goop on his face and lipstick and some stuff that made his eyes look big and [gasp] sexy! Good gravy! What had just happened? How long would it take to get his clothes back on and run out of the house and to his home? He couldn't stay, could he? Not with Robbie showing he was gay or crazy or both. Robbie didn't react to George's panicked look. Instead, he pulled down the sheets, took off his shoes, and got into bed. He smiled at George and said, "The bed's really comfortable." Then he pulled back the sheets on the other side of the bed and patted the mattress as if to say, "Get in, you big dope. I don't bite." George froze. And stared at Robbie's smiling face. It was a beautiful face. A really beautiful face. Maybe this was just Robbie giving George some kind of a test. A loyalty test, maybe. You know. If you're my friend, my crazy stuff shouldn't bother you. That had to be it. Well. George could be as loyal as the next guy. So, perhaps less cautiously than the situation seemed to require, George got into bed with his femmed up bestie, Robbie. Robbie smiled broadly at George when the latter pulled up the sheets over his shoulders and looked straight up at the ceiling. Silence. More silence. Then... "Do you think I'm pretty, George?" Uh oh! How do I answer that, George asked himself. The lad was terrified. Terrified of looking like a baby who couldn't handle Robbie's "Big City values." Terrified of losing Robbie as a friend. Terrified that Robbie was gay. Terrified that Robbie would trap George into doing gay things. Terrified that Robbie would think he was some kind of an anti-gay bigot. That's a lot of terror. But George's small-town values made him feel compelled to at least answer directly and honestly. "I never thought about whether you were pretty or not, Robbie. But seeing you like that, you look pretty. Very pretty." Robbie beamed. The thousand-watter that blinds mortal men and stiffens their most treasured assets. "Thank you, Honey! But please. Don't call me Robbie. My name is Susan." Oh my, George thought. He thinks he's a girl named Susan. And he's calling me, "Honey." How do I get out of...? "You're so sweet," Susan said. She closed the distance between them and laid a mega, closed-mouth kiss on George's startled lips. Which, in the hetero-centric world of yore, would have earned "Susan" two black eyes and several missing teeth. Not to mention a vigorous narrative of Susan's goings-on told to everyone at school on Monday. But it wasn't that yore time. Despite a lifetime of maternal and societal programming, George discovered that he liked the kiss. And wanted more. But didn't know how to ask. Susan lay back on her side of the bed. Feeling just a little smug at how well things were going. And realizing that George would still need a nudge or two. "You may kiss me if you like, George." [Gulp] George did like. But... But... Oh, what the hell. George adapted. George rolled onto his right side, placed his left hand on Susan's hip and rolled her toward him. He put his left hand under Susan's nightie, caressing the pink flesh of her back as he dove in for the second kiss of his young life. Susan purred as her lipsticked lips found George's lips. Mmmmm. Oh dear. "Little Susan" was being naughty. If George kept hugging her like that he would feel her stiffie rubbing against him. There it was. Contact. The best kind. George was ferally stiff as well. And his cock had found Susan's little tickler. Susan opened her mouth to gasp at the contact and George took that as an opportunity to slide his tongue into her pretty mouth. Pure instinct. And pure delight for them both. French kissing. Lots of tongue and saliva. Cock rubbing. Mmmmm. Wanting the inevitable event to be as special as possible, Susan slid her hand into George's pajama bottoms and caressed his bare penis as they kissed. Thus the extra specialness. Which turned out to be more than poor, virginal George could endure for long. Something was building in George's stomach. Below his stomach maybe. Something down there. Something new. Something he liked. Something we all like; but he didn't know what it was yet. Was he about to have some kind of seizure as divine punishment for doing the unspeakable gay acts he was doing? If so, it was a good seizure. Sensing George's impending you-know-what, Susan gave George's foreskin several delicious tugs. Then she whooped with joy as George shot his first-ever onto Susan's pretty hand. Wow! That was a lot of the good stuff for a first time! George's pretty face was twisted with erotic agony. When he was able to refocus his eyes, he saw his beautiful bedmate fling back the sheets, slide south and take George's messy, expended boy missile into her sweet mouth. It was at that moment that George decided that he didn't care what Susan had between her legs. He was in love! An emotion that deepened when Susan licked up all of George's copious spendings and brought the boy to a second stand. He watched her give him full eye contact as she licked and sucked his cockhead. Stopping now and then to give George's ball bag a sweet tongue bath. It was indescribably delicious. Almost overwhelming. It was obvious to George that Susan knew exactly what she was doing. And that George wasn't her first. George was happy enough that he was her NOW. Having just cum minutes earlier, it would take George several minutes until... Oops. Wrong again. George actually squealed when he donated his second tribute to Aphrodite (or Eros if you prefer). That time, Susan surprised her bestie by swallowing every drop as it blasted from his ballocks. Poor George. He was exhausted. Confused. Scared. But above all, randy for more. Which, being a boy of solid values, could only be satisfied after he repaid the gifts that Susan had just bestowed upon him. He chose a highly unusual way for a male to do that. He asked. "Please tell me what you like, Susan." Big points with Susan on that one. First, George had acknowledged that his bedmate was Susan, not Robbie. A critical distinction to Susan. Second, it showed he was free of the macho need to pretend he knew what he was doing when he did not. Third, it ensured that Susan's sexual needs and preferences, which George clearly valued, would be addressed. Good work, George! "Please kiss and suck my titties, Baby and we'll go from there." George was puzzled for a moment. Being a boy (mostly), Susan didn't have titties. Wait. She must mean... Okay. Can do. George lifted Susan's nightie, exposing her big, puffy, delicious-looking nipples. And he set to work kissing, licking, sucking and generally adoring them until Susan cried out and began to shoot her own stuff in nice, thin strands. George was fascinated. But purposeful. After George had spunked, Susan had licked it all up, then sucked out a second spermload. Could George DO such a thing? Oh yes. Should he do such a thing? Wouldn't sucking Susan's cock until she shoots sperm into his mouth and all over his face make George gay? He would have to check the rule book on that. In a day or two. After he had sucked Susan's cock until she shoots sperm and all that. It sounded like lots of fun. And it was. For both of them. Susan was amazed that George had adapted so rapidly to a wholly new set of conditions and circumstances. Which included making Susan squeal, pull her cock from George's mouth and spray his face with her girlish cream. Just to make the point with George that sissyboy on sissyboy sex was often messy. Not just "swallow it all in a few gulps" neat. For his part, George was delighted. And quite proud of himself that he had brought such intense pleasure to someone as beautiful as Susan. His short-term plan was to engage Susan in some face-to-face, cummy kissing, then resume his position drinking her flowing nectar on her next orgasm. And that's what would have happened. Except for one little issue. "Wow, kids. It sure looks as if you're having a great time!" Oh no!!! Oh NO, NO, NO!!!! Susan's father had just caught George sucking Susan's cock! With remnants of Susan's sperm still on his face from a previous sucking! George's life was over! Even if, and this was a remote possibility, Mr. Dickinson thought it was OK to be gay, there was no way he would think it was OK for 11-year-olds to do such gay things. And there was the whole Daddy-daughter or Daddy-son thing with Mr. Dickinson and Robbie or Susan or whoever's cock George had just sucked. George was dead!! Or not. "How's George doing, Susan?" Mr.Dickinson asked. "He's awesome, Daddy! Did you get the stuff?" "Got it right here. One extra-large bottle of Spermbutt Anal Lubricant, Susan. I know you'll be needing it to fuck Susan's beautiful bottom tonight and/or tomorrow, young man. Susan's been talking about wanting you to fuck her for weeks now." OK. I'll leave you. Have fun.' And he left. Leaving an almost catatonic George behind. What just..." Did he just...? Fucking? Weeks? But how could George "fuck" Susan? She didn't have a vagina, right? George had paid attention in sex ed class. Sadly, sex ed classes omit discussion of the other kind of fucking – the really good kind. Susan was enjoying George's consternation. Perhaps she should illustrate things a bit more clearly. After she discussed what just happened with Daddy. "Daddy's such a dear, George. I hope you and he become close. He wants the best for me. So does Mom. They know I need to be Susan and they support me. They know Susan needs a male friend for sex. That's you, Honey. And they support that. I hope you'll be Susan's friend and not just Robbie's. Will you, George?" In response, George dove at Susan and tongue kissed her ferociously. OK then. That's settled. "I know you'll want to fuck me, George, and I want you to. Don't worry that you don't know much about sissy fucking. I'll teach you, then you can teach me, OK?" More kissy affirmation. Until Susan's pussy was clamoring for attention. Susan rolled over onto her stomach and showed George her pussy hole. Just to make sure he got the idea, she held her cheeks apart and showed him pink! A man has maybe four or five times in his life where his memory of an incident or situation is indelible. This was George's first. He gasped as he processed what he had just discerned. Susan wants me to put my stiff penis into her bottom hole. Her bottom hole!! Then she'll want me to run my penis in and out of her until, I guess, I shoot that creamy stuff up her bum! Unbelievable! Was George the luckiest guy mon earth or what? Susan let him digest the good news for a moment, then said, "Heinie holes are too dry if you don't get them ready for fucking first. Will you get me ready, George?" Oh yes! "What should I do?" "Three stages, Sweetie. First, you can show me you really like me by licking my bum hole. Getting in there with your tongue. It sounds icky, but it's great for both of us." It didn't sound icky to George at all. His mouth was watering at the thought. "OK, that sounds great, Then what?" Could Susan pick'em or could Susan pick'em? "Then, please use that stuff Daddy brought us, Spermbutt Anal Lubricant. Use a lot of it on your fingers, then get inside me with it. Open me up. Lube me up." George was very excited about performing that intimate task as well. "Then, when I'm all lubricated and dilated, rub lots of Spermbutt Anal Lubricant onto your big, hot, manly cock and slide it all into me." Cripes. George almost spunked just from imagining that. Time to work on phase one. A very tasty phase one. A phase one where Susan and George shared real physical intimacy. George proved to be quite the tonguesman. And not bad with his fingers in phase two. By the time phase three rolled around, George was shivering with lust. He positioned Susan on her stomach, with two pillows against her belly button. Good angle. He knelt behind her. "Here goes something," George said to himself. Then shoved his 4.5-incher in all the way. Susan moaned as she felt the welcome intruder rub past her prostate. George was pleasing Susan very much. And she wasn't being lazy Susan. She was wiggling her ass just enough to add to George's pleasure without dislodging him. The Grand Crisis overtook them at almost the same moment. And grand it was. George felt the thrill all the way to his toes. And decided that he was in love with Susan, was going to marry her and fuck her 10 times a day. As soon as he graduated from middle school. It was a grand and glorious night. Two – Morning Glories The little fuck minxes got little sleep that night. And George, clearly the rookie with nookie, was still randy as he fucked Susan face-to-face, on her back, at 7:34 a.m. the next morning. George wanted to be all the fucker he could be, so he asked questions – even mid-fuck. Such as: "Why do you grunt and moan each time I go in and out, Susan?" Susan wasn't much of a sex conversationalist – especially when her "boy's time" was near. But George was such a dear. So she said, "Your [uh!] cock rubs against [grunt] my prostate every time you shove it in or out, Honey. It feels [squeak] soooo good!" George pondered, then asked. "Do I have one of those prostate things?" But he didn't get an immediate answer, since Susan was screaming her pretty head off as she spunked all over the already-stiff sheets again. George followed her to that happy place. As they lay side by side kissing and toying with each other's parts, Susan answered George's question. "You have a prostate, Honey. Give me that bottle of Spermbutt Anal Lubricant." George complied. Watching in fascination as Susan lubed up her fingers. Then she slid a pillow under George's hips, knelt at his side, and visited a place where George had never entertained. Zowie! Jinkies! Susan was rubbing George's prostate. And very well. As if she had done that sort of thing before. Susan asked him something very odd as she was massaging George's boy's place" "Do you think you would like to feel a cock rubbing you there, Honey?" George couldn't answer because it was such an outrageous concept that he couldn't even conceive of such a thing. Susan seemed to be so comfortable in the new universe she had pulled him into. He was still a novitiate. George considered asking Susan if he was her "first," but became quite incapable of rational thought at that moment. The lucky lad was having his first anal orgasm. And it was a good one. Cum drooling out, not shooting. Much longer and more intense "super fun time." Wow! He definitely wanted to do THAT again. But just as the last drool drooled, Mr. Dickinson popped in. "Rise and shine, kids. George's mother wants him back walking under his own power, so breakfast in 30 minutes. Let's move it." Rats. Just when you think you'll be fucking forever, reality blasts in. George still managed to give Susan some grateful kisses for introducing him to his prostate. But then it was zip out of bed, shower chastely and get dressed. George was disappointed when Susan dressed as Robbie again. And took on Robbie's personality. And masculine pronouns. George had to ask: "Will I see Susan again, Robbie?" Robbie smiled. "You bet, George. She likes you a lot. Maybe in a few days, we'll do another sleepover. George was hoping for a lot sooner than that, but he accepted Robbie's lead. Three – The Long Wait Poor George! All sexed up and nowhere to stick his cock. For four horrible days, George saw Robbie every day, but couldn't transform him into Susan and fuck her. Robbie didn't act like Susan at all. Though men still seemed to be quite deferential to him. And, oddest thing, men also seemed to be acting quite deferential to George as well. Was George giving off some different pheromones or something? Besides the aching need to empty his testicles properly, George was plagued by a big unanswered question. Did he want to feel a cock rubbing his prostate? No! Of course not! No way! Fuggeddaboutit! Still... Susan's fingers on his prostate were the most amazing sensation of his young life. Was Susan thinking that she wanted to fuck George's bottom? Well he wouldn't want that. But he was crazy about Susan. So he would let her. Grudgingly. But nobody else. Ever. Especially a man. George was NOT gay! At school on the fifth day, Robbie intercepted George at his locker before school. "Meet me behind the big statue at the beginning of lunch." And he was gone. Was George about to get some? FINALLY? Yes. Yes he was. At the appointed time and place, Robbie greeted George with a dazzling smile. "Susan missed you, George," Robbie said. "She's waiting for you in the woods." OK. Several things here. Was this the part of George's story where he discovers that he's being bred for service on the Klingon home world. And that Robbie/Susan were interstellar agents? And that a Klingon Bird of Prey is idling its engines in the woods waiting for George? Robbie speaks of Susan as if "she" is someone completely other than him. Is Robbie whack-a-doodle? Was this all part of an elaborate, nasty prank to humiliate George? No, no and no. But that didn't mean it was weird-free. Robbie led them to a secluded spot, dropped his back pack, kicked off his shoes and pulled down his boy pants. Oh my! Under his pants, Robbie was wearing pink, seamed, fully-fashioned, reinforced-heel-and-toe stockings; and a frilly, pink garter belt. He reached into his back pack and extracted a tiny, pink babydoll; a small cosmetic bag; and a pair of pink, three-inch-stiletto pumps. As George stared in erotic wonder, Robbie applied a bit of makeup, including some red lipstick. He turned to face George and George could only say one word. "Susan!" Susan smiled. And said, "Did you miss me, Honey?" George choked out a heartfelt, "Oh, yes!" Susan looked down shyly and asked, "Then why are your pants still on?" Pants off. Making love to Susan in the woods wasn't like making love in a big, comfy bed. But it was darned good. Kissing. Lots of kissing. Then Susan slid to her knees and took George's penis into her wet, warm, delightful mouth. Oh! How had George ever lived without Susan those past few days? Her tongue glided over the underside of George's oh-so-sensitive glans. George gasped. And spunked. Much sooner than he should have, he thought. But they would have to get back to school soon. They could be caught. It could rain. Susan swallowed George's delicious load, then asked him the 21st Century, preteen, sissyboy version of the classic, "What's your rush, sailor? Are you double-parked?" George blushed with shame. And apologized. "I'm sorry. It's just that you're so beautiful. And we could get caught. And we have to go back." "Relax, Honey. I mentioned to the principal that you and I would be working on a joint research project this afternoon, so we may be late getting back to class. So we have all afternoon if we want. And I want. How about you, Sweetie?" "I want too," George replied, then knelt as Susan stood. He took Susan's pricklette into his mouth and adored it. As his fingers "interfered" with her bumhole. It was paradise. Prior to Susan's first orgasm of that lovely day, George wondered idly, how was Susan able to move heaven and earth like that so they could make love in the woods all afternoon. He decided that he didn't want to know the answer. But he did ask one question. "Did you bring the Spermbutt Anal Lubricant?" "In my bag. But I want to cum in your mouth first." Fair enough. It was a great afternoon. Topped off by the news that George was invited to a second sleepover at Susan's the following evening. Wouldn't it be great to be George? Four – More is revealed (and it ain't just private parts) George reported to Robbie/Susan's house the next evening with high anticipation. His Daddy drove him and the man didn't seem to have noticed the fuck pheromones peeling of his son as they stepped through the door. Thank goodness it was Robbie and not Susan who greeted them. George didn't want to have to explain everything to Daddy. Who, being so old, wouldn't understand much. Three things were different from the first sleepover. 1) There was no dinner with Robbie's family. 2) Robbie's mom was nowhere to be seen. 3) Daddy and Mr. Dickinson seemed to have become buddies. They ignored the lads as Robbie and George slipped away to their den of boy lust. Robbie invited George into the closet to watch the transformation. Which fascinated George. The closet must have been a large bedroom at one time. It was big. With girlie clothes, shoes, cosmetics and jewelry. Robbie offered George a seat as he transformed into Susan. He stripped naked, then asked George to do the same. Which surprised George. Did Susan want to do sex things in the closet? Before she was all Susanned up? Out of character. But George went along. One doesn't question the giver of world-class pussy after all, does one? Susan sat and slid a delicious, sheer, pink stocking up each of her long legs. Watching George pant with lust at the sight. Unbeknownst to George, the turning point moment had arrived. And it wasn't just turning Susan over and pointing his prick at her bum. Susan reached to her right and produced a second pair of stockings. Tan ones. Sheer. Was she going to wear two pairs at once? No. "Would you put these on for me, Honey? Please. I know you would look great in them. And I know you want to feel them on your legs. So cool. So sensuous. Please." RED ALERT! DANGER WILL ROBINSON, DANGER! George couldn't. OK, it was OK for Susan to dress up like a girl. She was Susan. Girlish. But George didn't want that. He was the MAN! But jeez. She was looking right at George. Looking all expectant. Wait. Now she's looking...disappointed. Oh no. Disappointed people don't dole out world-class pussy. Maybe he could do that for her. Just that once. George sighed, reached out for the stockings, and asked, "How do I do this?" Susan smiled her "Gotcha but you don't know it yet" smile, and said, "You just roll each one into a doughnut. Like this. That's right." Oh! George was stunned at how good the stockings looked on his legs. And even more surprised at how good they felt. Sexy. Cool. His hardon would pierce titanium. "Put this garter belt on too, Honey. That's it. Clip there. And there. Good. Now look at yourself in that mirror." George shouldn't look. It was bad enough that he was wearing that stuff. If he looked, he would be seeing himself being all gay. But he looked. He was quivering with lust as he saw his stockinged self in the mirror. Susan, his temptress, stood behind him, issuing constant praise. And a hand on George's penis that made him cum so hard he lost his balance and had to be held by Susan to prevent a fall. Good thing he wasn't wearing heels. Yet. What did it all mean? Was George not the world-class, macho stud he imagined himself to be after his first love tussles with Susan? Had those dreams George had had during the last few nights been prescient? George on the bottom -being fucked- his prostate being abraded with each thrust, Oh no. Susan had slipped a lilac-colored babydoll over George's head! Oh no no no! George looked adorable! He became putty in Susan the Potter's hands as she applied makeup on George's strikingly pretty face. Keeping mirrors out of his way until the job was done. Then... George was a mega-babe!! The mirror confirmed it. As Susan femmed herself up, George spent the next twenty minutes Hypnotized by his own image. What did all this mean? Would Susan reject him now? Tell him to go find himself a boyfriend because George couldn't be Susan's studmeister any more? Probably. Maybe it was worth it. George loved seeing himself like that. "Ready to come out of the closet, Jeanette?" Susan asked. "Jeanette?" George was Jeanette now? He. Or should we say "she" liked it. Susan took Jeanette's hand and led her out of the closet and into the bedroom. "Now we get down to business," Jeanette thought. And she was right. Though not as she thought. Jeanette emerged from the closet to an amazing sight. Two naked men!!! Two very naked, very familiar men! Susan's Daddy, Mr. Dickinson. And Jeanette's Daddy, Mr. Lushbum! What? Jeanette looked at Susan. Susan smiled and said, "It's OK, Honey. My Daddy is going to take you into his bedroom and show you all the things I know you want to learn. And your Daddy is going to stay here with me. If there's anything you don't want, don't do it. In fact, if you want to get out of your girlie stuff and go home, that's good too. What do you want to do?" Jeanette looked at Susan. Then at Mr. Dickinson. Then at his Daddy. He kissed Susan on the lips, said, "Be good to my Daddy," then reached out for Mr. Dickinson's hand. Ten milliseconds later, Jeanette and Mr. Dickinson were on the king bed in the master bedroom. Kissing like the condemned. Mr. Dickinson was a good kisser, Jeanette admitted to herself. Let's see what else he can do. "Would you like to make love to my heinie, Mr. Dickinson?" "Oh yes, my darling. It's beautiful beyond description." Jeanette's heinie blushed. "Will you kiss it and lick it to get it ready for your big, hot, hard cock?" Wow! Guys love that kind of talk. And that directness. Jeanette got what she wanted on that request. Susan had played with George's anus and had rubbed his prostate to a very nice conclusion.. But no one had eaten George nor Jeanette out. Mr. Dickinson was more than willing to correct that omission Yowie, that was good! The man's tongue should be registered by local law enforcement as a deadly weapon. His tongue never actually reached Jeanette's prostate, but the dirtiness, lewdness and attentiveness of the man's act was enough to make Jeanette's girlish penis issue its thrilling stream. Mr. Dickinson seemed thrilled with that himself. And he pounced on the dilation task with real ardor and enough Spermbutt Anal Lubricant to ensure Carlton Spermbutt's third quarter earnings would meet its projections. Oh dear. Was Jeanette about to be fucked? She was. And it was only right. She was a simpering little sissyboy after all. NEEDING a man's big cock inside her., As it turned out, the man was a humanitarian. "This may hurt, Jeanette," he said, as he mounted Jeanette from behind. Yes. He was right. It hurt. But Jeanette hardly flinched. She may have been a sissyboy, but she was no sissy The hurt subsided as the erotic joy increased. Until it was all pleasure all the time. She was a pretty bottom. Taking her man's best shot up her keister. A man's fondest dream. And a boy's best path to bliss. The kind of bliss we all live for. Would men defer to Jeanette now? Would she have a string of lovers eager to please her? Seems likely. Very likely. Please tell me what you think at bc20002015@hotmail.com