Date: Mon, 18 Apr 2022 21:21:25 +0000 From: Beau Kramer Subject: Sissyboy Moneymakers (gay adult-youth) Sissyboy Moneymakers (gay adult-youth) By Beautiful Creamer I don't do this stuff and you shouldn't either. What you should do is get vaccinated and donate to nifty. One -- Re-channeling the Energy Oh! Jason Boneur was having an exceptional afternoon. The 12-year-old beauty was naked, on his back, being fucked by that week's, naked, love of his life, 15-year-old Butch. Butch was so manly and dominant. He had the nicest six-inch cock in Jason's experience. And Jason had a lot of experience. Butch even had 20 or 30 chest hairs. He was going to be a super-macho guy someday. And he was all Jason's. As had been about eight or so other guys ranging from Jason's age to 16. A lovely boy like Jason had no trouble finding fuck partners. The only possible impediment to Jason's daily bliss would be parental interference. And that was no problem at the Boneur house. Jason's Daddy had run off with the pizza-delivery girl eight years ago. Too bad for him, because Daddy would probably have eventually been getting world-class boypussy from Jason, Charlie and/or their friends. What with... "Ahhhh!" Jason smiled to himself. That was his 11-year-old brother Charlie with his new lover, Spike, in the bedroom next door. He wasn't being murdered or anything. He was cumming. Once again, the little twat couldn't wait, despite what Jason had told him about holding off to increase the cum amplitude. Too bad for him. Jason's lover knew how to make slow, ball-busting love to a sissyboy. Jason was finding it difficult to practice what he had preached to his kid brother. Butch's cock was so insistent. And so wildly exciting that... Wait. Butch stopped. Just in time. Your honor, let us stipulate for the record that Butch knew his way around a sissyboy's libido. Mmm. Butch's welcome anal intruder brought Jason's delicious, pink, stiffie, to its full height of 3.38 inches. Jason knew he would be cumming gloriously soon enough. Following which, his handsome stud would be sliding his big prick into Jason's ultra-tight, ultra-tiny hole again. Which would eventually make Jason cum again. Jason issued a silent thank you to his Mama, who had made that all possible with her complete tolerance of Jason's and Charlie's rampant homosexuality. Some might say that she was striking back at her departed husband by making sure the boys didn't marry, then run out on a woman. Jason preferred to think of it as mother love in its purest form. Actually, it was some of both. Jason and Charlie had been sexually active since they were nine years old. It wasn't illegal, even though only consensual sex between males 10 years and three-months old and a man of 18 or older was Constitutionally protected. None of their lovers had been older than 16 years and seven months. The boys had not yet been with a man. For two reasons. First, they were already fully-fucked by a legion of boys up to the age of 17 years and 364 days. Life wasn't broken. Why try to fix it? Second, men were too dangerous. They had huge cocks that could rob the boys of their anal tightness -- a boy's major asset. And they were men. Subject to anger, rage and serial killings followed by decapitation. Jason and Charlie loved to be dominated, but not DOMINATED. At 6 p.m. that lovely, but normally-usual day, the boys were on their knees at the front door. Giving Butch and Spike sweet, goodbye blowjobs. "Dinner's ready, boys. Speed up the farewells a bit or it'll be cold. And don't ruin your appetites. On-the-face is just as sexy as a swallow." The boys obliged Mama's request by inserting two exploratory fingers into the older boys' anuses as they power-licked their lovers' knobs. That did it. Pants were pulled up. Cocks put away. Cum was all over the sissyboys' pretty faces. No one kissed or tried to clean up the love juices. Moments later, Jason and Charlie reported for dinner. Jason leaned over to kiss Mama, but she ducked. "I don't want that stuff on my face," Mama said. "Go wash it off while I serve the Hamburger Helper." Let's stipulate here that with Mama not wanting to be around cum, it's no great surprise that Daddy left. Done washing, they all sat, said grace and ate. Mama opened the nightly conversation with some bad news. Very bad news. Life-altering news. "I lost my job today, sweeties, and I don't see a quick path to getting a new one." Oh no! No money. No home. No health care. Mama around the house 24/7. The boys were crushed. And comforted Mama the best that they could. "Thank you, my angels. I'm not concerned because I have a plan." A plan? What... "Under my management, you two sissyboy all-stars are going to start earning your keep. And my keep too." Charlie gasped. "Do you mean work, Mama? Jason and I don't have time for work. All our time goes into school and boys fucking us." Mama smiled. "Don't worry. I have some things in mind where you'll be spending your time with school and men." MEN!?!?!?!? Two - MEN!?!?!?!? "I know you both have a silly aversion to men, but we need money. Since they were ten and three, all your sissyboy friends have been taking it up the ass from their Daddies or other studs. Phobia schmobia, I say." Jason and Charlie were not happy. Though not completely unhappy. For some time the young beauties had wondered what it would be like to submit to a snorting, rutting, boypussy-famished man. They were just putting it off until... Actually, they weren't sure why they were afraid anymore. All their friends were taking eight to ten inches up their keisters and were in good humor and good health. The boys figured correctly that they were missing a lot of details about what would be expected of them fuck-wise. Mama explained. "I have a long-term plan in the works, but that won't kick off for a little while. Meanwhile, I got you two jobs at the local porn movie studio. You're going to be `fluffers.'" Jason and Charlie looked at each other. "What's a fluffer, Mama?" Charlie asked. "The men who fuck the women in those disgusting videos have big cocks and toned bodies, but like all males beginning around age 25, they can't keep it up forever. When Mr. Johnson sags, they stop fucking and a fluffer steps in to suck the man back to a full stand. It's always been women who do that. But when I showed your pictures to the producer, he hired you on the spot." Well. That was a bit flattering, the boys thought. And a whole lot scary. They would be getting paid to have oral sex. With men. Pornstar men. With pornstar-length penises! The biggest penis Jason had ever sucked was Billy's, a 16-year-old high-school junior who sported a 6.71-inch sissypleaser. Charlie's 15-year-old beau Ryan cocked in at 6.34 inches. Mama said that it would only be oral, so they wouldn't have to take a foot-long up their tiny heinies. Not yet anyway. The box the boys were in looked as if its walls were solid. So they decided they would try to be happy as exploited sex workers. Boy prostitutes. Or loving sons trying to do their part to help their unemployed, almost destitute mother. The next day, Mama made sure the boys got dressed in their sluttiest outfits -- tiny short-shorts skimpier than those the Dallas Cowboys cheerleaders wear; skimpy, black, bikini panties trimmed with pink rosebuds; t-shirts designed with big holes on either side, revealing creamy shoulders and erect nipples; and those pink, satin-leather, single-strap, Mary Jane shoes with frilly, turned-over, white socks. It was a wonder they weren't RAPED on the way to the "studio," which was a hotel suite that had seen far better fuckings. The "film" producer greeted Mama warmly, then shifted his gaze to the sissyboy brothers. Wow! Jason and Charlie had seen that look before. It was men thinking, "I want that. I want to hold it and possess it and fuck it." Most of the time, the boys shrugged it off, since a date with a young lover was always imminent. But there had been times when getting that "lust stare" from certain men made them want to rethink their love-roster's acceptance rules. The porn producer was very manly. With a big lump in his pants as he looked the little confections over. It scared the boys as it excited them. The producer, whose name was Mr. Smutman, introduced the boys to the cameraman, Mr. Filmer, who was also a hunk. And was giving the boys the same look that his boss gave. Mama said her goodbyes after she gave her lads get-home instructions. And there they were. With two men. In the porn industry. Without their loving Mama, who had sold them to porn peddlers for the afternoon. The boys were very excited. Having seven or eight spectacular orgasms a day with mega-hunky boys is nice. Very nice. But it could get boring, they reasoned. And nothing is worse to a tween than boring. The sissyboys were still apprehensive as the visibly-aroused Mr. Smutman led them into the scene of the hetero sex-to-be. Two people were there already. One was a woman who had said goodbye to her twenties long ago. She had a whole bunch of bleached-blond hair and was wearing a robe that showed most of her black stockings and all of her five-inch, spike heels. She was giving a ration of crap to her costar, a tall, fit man with shoulder-length hair, a lot of tattoos, and a monster cock. That was drooping sadly under the woman's verbal assault. What was she complaining about? That's the eternal question with the ladies, isn't it? Anyway, seeing Mr. Smutman with the Boneur brothers, she redirected her bile at the producer. "Well, well. Are those the new fluffers? It figures," she said as she turned to give the costar a disdainful stare. "I always figured you for a homo, Rocky. Smutman here had to get you sissyboys so you could get it up. Don't let me stop you. Go ahead and stick that limp thing into one of their mouths and get a `semi' at least. Let's get going. I have a hair and nail appointment in two hours." Pleasant lady. Anyway, just looking at Jason and Charlie had Rocky's dead soldier showing life. When Mr. Smutman suggested that the boys strip to just their pretty panties and sissy shoes and socks, the lads eagerly complied. Oh my! Rocky's potential footlong was already at 10 inches and rising. "Go ahead, boys," Mr. Smutman said. "Go over there and get on your knees for Rocky. Get him nice and hard." Jason hesitated. So Charlie did too. Mr. Filmer was prudently filming the whole thing. "Go ahead, sweeties," Mr. Filmer said. "That big snake won't bite." The young beauties giggled at that, nodded at each other and stepped forward. Onto their knees. Eye-to-eye with the biggest cock in the state. They had done two-on-ones with a boy before. And thought it could be extra-sexy for their "victim." So without sibling rivalry, Charlie began to lick Rocky's balls as Jason licked his fat knob. Good gravy. What was that taste on Rocky's cockhead? Ick! Jason licked on. He had a job to do. Once he had licked off the icky, he was greatly enjoying his first man-knob. Charlie was doing his part. As he licked Rocky's balls, he was fingering Rocky's bumhole. Oh! Poor Rocky. He knew that fluffers were erectors, not sperm-swallowers. Deflating the costar meant a big wait (time is money) for a second rising and a far less prolific spermstorm. And the paying customers like a prolific spermstorm. But the two angels were so sweet and pretty. They gave the best "head" Rocky had ever had. Most of all, they didn't try to nag, manipulate or emasculate him as they sucked his knob, licked his balls and [gasp] fingered his special "man's place." Rocky couldn't help it. He cried out in orgasmic joy as he deluged poor Jason's loving mouth and face with scalding sperm. Thus, Rocky thought, ruining that day's shooting, making the diva even more angry at him and losing that job. He thought wrong. Oh, yes. He was right about the diva. She screamed at Rocky, Mr. Smutman, Mr. Filmer and even the boys. Then stormed out huffily. But Mr. Filmer got it all on film. It was the beginning of a porn flick that would set new sales records in the industry. "Innocent boys and big-cocked men" would become its eventual title. It would engender lots of imitators. Jason and Charlie would become international anonymous stars. But not just yet. Rocky's blowjob was only Act One. Jason and Charlie were in a porn studio with three men -- one of whom had to hold the camera. And neither the boys, nor Mr. Smutman, nor Mr. Filmer had cum yet. There were certainly ways that Jason and Charlie could have expelled their liquid passion without resorting to anal fucking from a MAN! My goodness. The boys had already strayed from their long-term, extremely-effective policy regarding touching an adult male in a sexual manner. Lots of good, solid reasons not to submit to sweaty, desperate, ball-wrenching, man-boy, anal sex. Fortunately, at that moment, neither Jason nor Charlie could think of a single one. Jason faced Rocky. The man was ass-fucking Jason with his eyes. At least in Jason's view. But he was OK with that. Though he did have one more minor moment of caution. He wondered how the heck he was going to fit a foot-long erection into a boypussy that had only hosted cocks half that size. Jason dropped his panties. Rocky gasped. And his boypleaser stood to 11 inches. Still wearing his sissy shoes and socks, Jason sat on Rocky's naked thigh. And felt the hairiness tickle his bum. He wasn't getting that from the boys he dated. Rocky achieved full vertical. A position that would have evoked a "Go" from mission control. Kissing. Toying. Caressing. Just like people did in those romantic stories Mom watched on TV. Kissing. Like they had seen men and women doing. But come to think of it, neither brother had ever been kissed by the boys who fucked them. The boys had never sucked or even touched Jason's or Charlie's penises. The boys' "beaus" had all said that only the boys were gay and they were not. Which helped the older lads sleep at night, I guess. These men, though pornographers, were at least acting like lovers, not just fuckers. The boys liked what they were doing. Charlie considering sitting on Rocky's other thigh. Then rejected that notion. Charlie and his brother should each have their first man-one-to-one. But how? Oh my. Mr. Smutman was naked. He had reached around Charlie and was caressing the younger brother's overheated cock as he kissed the boy's neck. Mmmmm. That felt good! So did the feel of Mr. Smutman's tall cock rubbing just below Charlie's shoulder blades. Because Mr. Smutman was so much taller than Charlie. Charlie's first thought after "Mmmmm," was "Time to get into bed, where everyone is the same size. Oh, look. There's a bed." And so it was. The epicenter of the planned film. Charlie realized that he had better get busy over there if he didn't want to fuck on the floor. Jason could be proprietary. And quick. So Charlie made his move. "I would really like to make kisses with you and suck all the cream from your cock once or twice before we fuck the first time, Mr. Smutman. But if you don't get on the bed with me and start to get me ready before you fuck me, Jason will claim the bed. We'll have to fuck on the floor. Which means your back will hurt for a week at least." Charlie was to be Mr. Smutman's first sissyboy. Mr. Smutman didn't yet understand the sissyboy culture and its customs and priorities. So he followed the leader to the bed -- and the rear -- Charlie's rear, where Mr. Smutman's wet tongue dug in hungrily. Charlie had never had his ass eaten before, so let us state for the record that he liked it. The man did an excellent job for a sissyboy-loving rookie. As attested to by two wet sets of splashes on the sheets below the boy's beautiful body. Charlie groaned happily through his second "wet one," then began to mumble, "Fuck me now, please, Mr. Smutman! Right after you put some Spermbutt Anal Lubricant on your, big, fat, hot, hard boypleaser!" Mr. Smutman had never thought of his cock as a boypleaser, because he had never had a boy in such a position before. Wet, drooling bumhole. Wiggling to be fucked. The boy was only eleven. Legal by at least nine months. But only eleven. And he was a boy. A male. Just like Mr. Smutman. But was he really the same gender? As far as Mr. Smutman was concerned, he wasn't violating his wholesome, family-centered policy of making only films that depicted males interacting with over-18 females. A sissyboy was a morally-negotiable partner of a different stripe. He may have only been eleven, but the boy WANTED Mr. Smutman's cock. No one was forcing anyone. So if Mr. Smutman didn't fuck Charlie, someone else would. Someone who may not be as loving and kind and respectable and safe as a porn-video producer like Jimmy Smutman. There. Mr. Smutman felt better already. Then best when he slipped his cock into the tightest, hottest, most-accepting crevice it had ever been. Oh! That was sweet! Anal sex was so different. Much dirtier. Much tighter. And his fuck partner was more enthusiastic and grateful than anyone Mr. Smutman had ever boffed. Was Mr. Smutman in love with Charlie? Not yet. But Charlie would be easy to love. Fucking that amazing ass whenever he wanted. And almost certainly full access to his brother's ass as well. Though he wasn't sure how tight young Jason's manpleaser would be after Rocky was finished with him. Jason was howling as Rocky bent him over and FORCED his full Johnson up Jason's Love Canal. Howling with pain? Rocky interpreted the howls as, "So good! Fuck me harder, please! More cock. Cum in my bumhole!" Rocky complied. Mr. Smutman was a copycat. And, being a generous sort, Mr. Smutman held the camera while the overheated Mr. Filmer took Rocky's place in Jason's cum-soaked, pre-gaped love cavern. In the post-fuckem, Mr. Filmer reported to Rocky and Mr. Smutman that Jason's bum closed around Mr. Filmer's cock and resumed its delicious tightness. The post-fuckem also got to the bottom of the bad taste on Rocky's cock. "Before you delightful little love angels showed up," Rocky reported, "I was already fucking my costar. I got limp while fucking her because, well, you met her. Anyway, that bad taste was pussy." The boys didn't need another reason to avoid pussy for life, but Rocky gave them a freebie. Three -- The boys find other pleasant work The three-men-and-two-boys orgy blasted on until the boys had to go home for macaroni and fish sticks. Sex promises were made but there was no further offer of paid employment. Mom was quite pleased with the $1,500 first installment of their royalties from the upcoming film. But time was and always has been money. At dinner, Mom foreshadowed further employment for her young moneymakers, but gave no details. "Enjoy your evening, night and morning with Butch and Spike, my darlings. Tomorrow morning, after you've given them the proper sendoff at the front door, I would be very interested in knowing how they measured up, now that you've sampled men." The sissyboy princesses loved their Mom, but she was way off base on that notion. Boys their lovers' ages could fuck three times an hour. Their bodies were hard and sexy. Men plotted bloody revolutions, sold heroin to preschoolers and vetoed bills meant to help widows and orphans. Boys were sexy, prolific and pure. Still, the sissyboys decided to spice things up right from the get-go that evening. Just so Mom wouldn't even be partially right. Instead of peeling off to separate bedrooms, Jason and Charlie proposed that they all occupy the king-size bed in Jason's room. Switching partners for the first time, as well as creating and sustaining a mini-orgy, should liven the proceedings. On one level, that strategy worked. Jason was taken by Spike. Right up the keister four times before night-night. And Charlie adored being sex-schooled by Butch. The bodies got tangled at several points and it became difficult to determine whose whosis was in whose whastis. The next morning, after the on-the-knees-at-the-door farewells, Jason and Charlie were sexually drained. But intellectually curious. Butch and Spike were super fuckers and good boys. But sissyboys, the Boneur boys realized, need men. They need lovers who will kiss them and suck them off and adore them. Men. Mom was happy to oblige. "I got you both what I was hoping for - tryouts for jobs with Sissy Boy Enterprises. You'll be escorts for Dream Dates. It's kind of a quickie fantasy island put together by Biff Buggerall's Sissy Boy Enterprises. Once you get the jobs, and I know you randy little pups will, you'll be getting three weeks of training, after school and on weekends -- paid of course. Then you'll start making men's fantasies come true. Sound good?" Huh? What did that mean? Let's find out. Mom fed the boys a high-protein breakfast, then shooed them off to get dressed in tiny shorts, strappy sandals and skimpy, too-big tshirts. She dropped the boys off at a fancy mansion in the ritzy part or town. And so it began. Four -- Catholic girls start much too late Recently, the bold and brilliant entrepreneur Biff Buggerall had expanded his holdings with the addition of a new service for the truly needy -- men with too much money and no satisfying way to dispose of it. Biff Buggerall was all about satisfaction. For a fee in the low six figures, a man could engage the services of an exquisitely beautiful and rampantly randy sissyboy for fulfillment of a specific, dreamed-about-obsessively scenario. Jason and Charlie breezed through the interview and training. Mainly because most of it was about making males sexually happy. A subject at which the boys had extensive expertise. The most difficult part was learning how to be a proper lingerie sissy when required. From makeup to walking in very high heels, the boys eventually excelled. Jason's first assignment seemed straightforward enough. "Raised Catholic" is a common response these days when one is asked about one's religion. Implying strongly that the "raising" didn't stick. No wonder, since all the inhuman nastiness about priestly celibacy, the sin of homosexual acts and grossly unfair exclusion of women from the clergy just isn't accepted meekly anymore. Still, raised catholic still imprints certain cultural imperatives. Not the least of which is a man's unrequited-since-his-teens urge to satisfy his basest urges with an apparently-virginal catholic school girl. In full uniform. For at least 22 years, 34-year-old Bryan Lovewell had harbored only one regret. He had never gotten to buttfuck his next-door neighbor, Mary Margaret O'Reilly. Or pussyfuck her. Or lick her 12-year-old nipples. Or even touch her. During those 22 years, Bryan had made the big bucks and squired around his share of nagging, manipulative, emasculating, sex-stingy women. But never a 12-year-old, seventh-grader in a St. Perpetua School, plaid skirt and blazer. Until Dream Date appeared on his radar. Biff Buggerall's legions arranged for the full trappings of the crucial, life-changing fantasy, and young Jason Boneur was entrusted with its success. He was eager to show his stuff. Mama was eager for the big payoff if all went well. On the day it was all to begin, the Buggerall Bunch dressed Jason. Tan stockings held up by a merely-functional-except-for-a-bit-of-lace garter belt. A white, schoolgirl training bra. White, cotton, granny panties. Plaid skirt whose hem rested an inch above the knee. White blouse with a Peter Pan collar. Blue blazer with a St. Perpetua logo on the breast pocket. Black penny loafers with actual pennies embedded. Jason's longish hair was styled androgenously, but his cosmetized face said "young, beautiful girl just reaching for her sexiness potential." Holey moley! Biff's logistical crew all had to take cold showers to avoid TAKING Jason right there! Especially those who were raised catholic. Jason was ALL SEX. Everyone agreed that the only problem Jason might have would be Mr. Lovewell's probable unwillingness to give Jason up after the fantasy's 48 hours. Jason was dropped off on a quiet street, in front of a flowered bungalow. Looking around, Jason saw a man on the porch at the house next door. Jason took the three steps to the house, set his schoolbooks down and fumbled in his purse. More fumbling. Then a soft, "Oh no." The man next door called over. "Everything all right, Mary Margaret?" Jason smiled brightly at the man. Which almost made Bryan cream his pants. "Oh, Mr. Lovewell, I'm such a dummy. I forgot my keys and Mom has her class tonight and won't be home until 10. I don't know what I'll do. I guess I'll just sit on the porch and wait for her." "Nonsense, Honey. Just come on over to my house. You can do your homework or watch TV or whatever. And I'll get us a pizza." Jason, who was under consideration for best actor that year, looked slightly hesitant. Perhaps considering the "stranger danger" aspects of Mr. Lovewell's offer. "Uh, OK. I guess it would be all right. But Mom doesn't like me being around men. Especially handsome, hunky men like you, Mr. Lovewell." Bryan's cock twitched. Somehow, he managed to say, "That's because you're so beautiful, sweet and innocent, Mary Margaret. Sometimes a man will try to take advantage of a lovely, catholic girl like you." Jason could have been a bit more flirty at that point, but all he chose to do was bat his beautiful brown eyes and join Bryan on his porch. They entered the neat, 1980s-style house. Jason put his book bag and purse on the dining room table. "Have a seat, Mary Margaret. I'll get you some milk and cookies." Jason gave Bryan another, more scorching smile and chuckled to himself about how the man had a hitch in his step as he walked to the kitchen. Minutes later, they were both seated at the table, sharing cookies, milk and small talk. "What's on your mind these days, Mary Margaret," Bryan asked. Jason was ready for that question. "It's school and my Mom, Mr. Lovewell. The nuns and Mom act like all these urges I feel are sins. I don't want to sin, but I have these urges. Do you know what I mean?" "I do, Sweetie. Boys and men have those urges too. It's biological. You can fight it, but you'll be miserable." Jason reacted the way anyone in a real-life situation reacted. Mr. Lovewell had slipped Mary Margaret the greatest aphrodisiac of all. Understanding! "That's right!" Jason gushed. "That's exactly what I believe! I want a nice, handsome, loving boy or man to hold me in his arms and kiss me and excite me. And lead me into `other things.'" Ok. In football, that's called a hole you can drive a truck through. Bryan could NOT miss that one. "I could help you with that, you sweet, beautiful angel." Even though Bryan knew that the fix was in, he still wasn't sure that "Mary Margaret" would give it up. In his dreams/nightmares, she never gave it up. Fortunately, Dream Dates are never nightmares. Jason went through all the facial and physical motions of a young girl about to make the biggest decision of her life thus far. Then he said, "I would like that. But I have two conditions." At that point, Bryan would have surrendered either testicle for Mary Margaret's acquiescence. But all Jason said was: "First, don't hurt me. If you hurt me, I go to the police. Second, each time we go a little further, I have to give permission." Bryan didn't want to be too sloppy eager. So all he said was, "Of course, my darling. May I kiss you, first open mouth, then with tongues?" Bryan was proud of himself for that bit of cool restraint. James Bond couldn't have done better. "Oh yes, Mr. Lovewell. But let's move to the couch. Maybe I should take this blazer off too. It's getting hot in here." The kissing alone was worth the ridiculous fee. Jason was an extraordinarily skilled and passionate kisser, as was Bryan. After a delicious ten minutes, both pricks were near bursting. Bryan asked, "May I put my hand on your..." "Forget what I said, Mr. Lovewell. Just do things. If I don't like it, I'll tell you. But I doubt that will happen." Wow! Carte Blanche! And they were only beginning. Bryan laid his hand on Jason's stockinged knee as they gobbled tongues. Then, slowly, he began to caress, Jason's inner thighs. The stockinged parts, then the bare parts. The stockings added so much to the experience. Jason loved the sexy feel of nylon on his toes, feet, calves, and half his thighs. Bryan loved the naughtiness of caressing "Mary Margaret's" bare thighs above the stocking top. Jason gasped. He wasn't acting. He loved the sexual attention he was getting and the relief he was providing to that nice, frustrated man. The man moved his hand toward central headquarters, half expecting that he would encounter a pussy, despite assurances that his Mary Margaret was 100 percent sissyboy. Still he was amazed and delighted that this person, who was feminine in all the ways a man wants femininity, had a throbbing, diamond-hard penis. "Oh my," Bryan said. "What's this doing in the prettiest girl in the state's panties?" Time for the big, crucial scene. "Oh, Mr. Lovewell, please don't be angry. I..." "No need for an explanation, my sweet Mary Margaret. I'm delighted. May I examine this pretty jewel more closely?" Perfect. A bit warily, breathing through his lust, Jason stood. He kicked off his penny loafers, held up his skirt, then shimmied down his cotton, granny panties, which had a wet spot as big as a dinner plate. And there it stood. Exhibit A. Skinned and proud. With a fire-engine-red knob and pretty, pink ballsack dangling sweetly. "Step in front of me, Mary Margaret. That's right. Closer. Mmmmmm!" Oh! Mr. Lovewell had taken Jason's delicious prick into his loving mouth. Licking it. Giving it the sweetest sucks it had ever had. Was Jason falling in love again? That happens to sissyboys a lot. Bryan had never sucked a prick before. But once one does... Well, there must be some rhyming thing about never "going back," mustn't there? The prick is so alive in the mouth. So...grateful somehow. And it shows its gratitude most spectacularly. A mouthful of sissy cream kicked off the official proceedings of the "Seduction of Mary Margaret O'Reilly" scenario extraordinarily nicely. And that was only Act One. When Bryan was finished swallowing all of Jason's creamy pearls, he licked the ultra-sensitive head clean. Then the testicles. Reveling in all the sex-enhanced, boyish musk that enraptured his senses. At the last suck, the man stood, then slid down Jason's skirt. Tugging off Jason's blouse. Leaving the young beauty in only his cotton bra, stockings and garter belt. Bryan then scooped the precious orgasm-maker into his arms and carried him Rhett Butler-style up the stairs to the master bedroom. Which in its 1980s style was little bigger than a 21st Century closet. With a mere double bed. So retro! So nostalgic for Bryan's days of lusting for the first Mary Margaret. Bryan gently laid Jason on his back, onto the bed, then began to strip to a very boypleasing nude. Revealing his cock and balls last. Now, Dear Reader, Jason has told me before I started recording this true-life, totally accurate account that he was so excited about his first big Dream Date assignment and his role in making a very nice man's deepest wish come true that he wouldn't have cared if Mr. Lovewell had a two-incher. So imagine his glee when the man showed himself to be double-digited. Ten granite-hard inches of boythriller! With an angry-looking, almost-purple head. And a peehole looking right at Jason and saying, "Get ready, Mary Margaret. I'm gonna lead the way up that delicious butt of yours and teach you what catholic girls need to know about the real world." Jason was in full surrender as his ravager directed him onto his stomach, with his bum raised. Bryan pulled a chair over, sat and positioned himself so that he could feast on Jason's delectable bumhole. Though he was fiercely prickstiffeous, Bryan somehow managed to hold back his spunk as he cannibalized his victim's pleasure pit. Jason really liked his job. To think that he was getting paid for what was shaping up as the best sex of his life. There were no restrictions that required Jason to hold back his orgasms. So Jason squealed and squirted twice during the 32 minutes of stupendous anality that Bryan inflicted on his Mary Margaret. FINALLY, the moment Bryan had been seeking for 20 years had arrived. "I'm going to FUCK you now, Mary Margaret," the enflamed man proclaimed. "I'm going to POSSESS you! And, probably make you pregnant. But most of all, I'm going to make love to you the way a man loves his woman before she learns to nag, manipulate and emasculate men." Jason was VERY eager to be fucked. He whimpered girlishly, then wiggled his licked-out, drooling bottom at Mr. Lovewell. Invitation accepted. Bryan plunged. Jason squealed the way a virginal, catholic girl should when being TAKEN by a cruel, sinful fornicator. In reality, Jason adored every moment of it. Jason managed a few grunts, groans, "Ohs," "Unnhs," "So goods" and even a few "Fuck me, Mr. Lovewells" as the man heroically stood tall for 18 minutes, then with a joyful bellow, Bryan emptied his nutsack triumphantly! Jason's poor bumhole had once again been stretched beyond conventional standards. And the three orgasms he joyfully suffered during the fucking, all of which were dry, had exhausted his body. But not his libido. The man withdrew his limp soldier from the battlefield, flipped Jason onto his pretty back and engaged the boy in delicious kisses. A lovely entr'acte between fucks. It then occurred to Bryan that he had neglected Mary Margaret's titties. Neither of which had yet peeked out from the superfluous bra. Time to remedy that. Despite being assured by the Dream Date crew that no boy in their employ had ever been harmed, Jason was still in a one-on-one with a man driven to sexual frenzy. So the fear he experienced when Mr. Lovewell exposed Jason's nipples to open air was real. He needn't have worried. The man was civilized. Mostly. Though the feral frenzy that Mr. Lovewell displayed during fuck preparation contradicted that premise somewhat. Bryan gazed with wonder at the perkiness of his "Mary Margaret's" budding nipples. In his fantasy, he was fucking Mary Margaret age 12, just as her breasts were considering future growth. Jason hadn't had much attention given to his nipples. Didn't exactly consider them an erogenous zone. He was wrong. Bryan kissed Jason's left nipple lightly. Then licked it. Just with the tip of his tongue. The boy groaned. And his little cock twitched. That was nice. A repeat performance on his right nipple elicited a greater response. Then Bryan went to work in earnest. Kissing. Licking. As his rude middle finger explored the precincts of Jason's anus. Jason arched his back and ejaculated. Helplessly. Desperately. Which excited Bryan so much that he slid two pillows under Jason's hips covered the young lovely's body with his own, and, in tribute to the missionaries, fucked him silly. Let's just stipulate that the next 45 hours were spermaliscious, so we can find out what sweet Charlie was doing to enrich the family coffers. Five -- Good time for Charlie Charlie's first assignment was a bit more complex than Jason's. The young beauty was to seduce and educate, Eric, the 19-year-old son of magnetic-widget magnate, Robert Bullmarket. According to Mr. Bullmarket, who couldn't resist fucking Charlie during their assignment briefing, Eric was a fine young man who was PAINFULLY shy with girls. And boys. "Eric's not gay (and neither am I, of course)," the well-hung capitalist said before he fucked Charlie a second time. "He just doesn't seem to want sex badly enough to ask for it properly. I'm sure you can cure him of that you sweet young thing, Now, where were we? Oh yeah. You on your back. Legs spread. Calves on my shoulders. Oh yes!" The next day, Charlie reported to the Bullmarket residence at noon. Dressed somewhat androgynously. Short, but not obscenely brief, pink, khaki shorts. A modest white blouse/shirt with a Peter Pan collar. Pink, patent-leather, Mary Jane shoes with semi-frilly socks. And a faint wisp of eye shadow, false lashes, eyeliner and lip gloss. When Mr. Bullmarket saw Charlie, the man looked as if he wanted to ditch the agenda for his son and spend the next month fucking Charlie. But paternal love won out. "You look exquisitely gorgeous today, my dear," the man said. "Eric is a very lucky young man. Let me go round him up before I lose control and make love to you myself again." Mr. Bullmarket left Charlie standing alone while he went for Eric. For ten minutes. Then 20. At the 27-minute mark, Mr. Bullmarket reappeared. Semi-dragging his 19-year-old son. "But, Daddy! I'm not gay! I don't need a `sex coach.' And I don't want... Oh! Oh!" Eric may have been shy and nerdy. But he was sane. And no sane man could resist the feral sexuality of Charlie Boneur. Eric was stunned. Not only by Charlie's exquisite facial beauty, but his long, bare legs. His delicate hands, which Eric couldn't help but imagine stroking Eric's prick to shuddering ejaculation. Charlie's sissy shoes and socks concealing what Eric imagined were delicate, perfectly-manicured toes. And he hadn't yet even seen Charlie's amazing, prick-hospitable ass. Oh dear! Had Daddy arranged all that for Eric? Given Eric's painful shyness, would he be able to claim full advantage of Daddy's gigantic generosity? No, Eric was about to turn Charlie's tail. After some well-played encouragement from Dream Date's newest rising star. Despite his immediate physical response (a hardon) to Charlie's presence, Eric was still incapable of the First Move. Charlie was and is, a Mistress of the First Move. "Mr. Bullmarket, you didn't tell me how handsome and manly your son Eric is. I'm very excited to be in his company." Eric wanted very much to believe that was Charlie being honest, rather than Charlie being an exceptionally gorgeous rentboy. Do he chose to allow his ego to be boosted. Which boosted Mr. Winky even more. A man who plans ahead, Mr. Bullmarket had a lovely lad of 11 years waiting for him in a local, ritzy hotel room. Thus, he was able to make a gracious exit without claiming yet another droit de seigneur from the delectable Charlie. Charlie and Eric hardly noticed. Charlie was at least 90 percent sincere when he remarked on Eric's good looks. And, had Eric stood tall and proud, the boy would have been 90 percent honest about his manliness. Infused with praise, Eric did stand tall and proud. Presenting a manly demeanor for the first time in his life. And no part of Eric stood taller and prouder than his XXL cock. Which appeared to be bigger than his father's prize possession. Charlie noticed it tenting Eric's pants. And licked his lips. Eric could have sorted out all his quirks and jerks about being overshadowed by his dominant father and fears of rejection by women with a $500-an-hour analyst in twice-weekly sessions for three years or more. Or he could fuck Charlie. Eric chose wisely. "You're so beautiful," Eric said. Then, regretting it the instant he said it, he added, "Are you really a boy?" Once again, Charlie delivered the best response. He giggled sweetly and said, "Yes, Silly. Want to see?" Eric couldn't help but nod. So smiling and giggling, Charlie dropped his shorts. Then, slowly, the little teaser shimmied down his panties to reveal his pink treasures. Erect and drippy. Dangling invitingly. Charlie was enjoying Eric's startled response. The young beauty observed the dazed young man for 15 seconds, then asked, "I showed you mine..." "Omigish," the awed 19-year-old thought. "He's... I... He's so gorgeous. He wants me. I want him." Eric's next action didn't earn him big "manly top" points. But it did break the glacier that had surrounded his life. The man stepped forward, fell to his knees, and swallowed Charlie's cock! Licking. Kissing. Sucking. Groaning with pleasure as Charlie squeaked and squealed. Impatient for the cocksucker's big reward, Eric slid half of his middle finger into Charlie's pootie. Charlie actually stomped his foot as the orgasm freight train smeared him. Eric licked up every cum atom with great relish. And not the kind one puts on a hot dog. He kissed Charlie's overheated testicles. Then stood and kissed Charlie into a second erection. "Bedroom. Now," the newly studly Eric declared. Thirty seconds later, they were both gloriously naked. Writhing frantically on a bed. Kissing with tongues. Stroking cocks with one hand and fingering bumholes with the other hand. A classic recipe for the best kind of afternoon. Before either could cum, Charlie slid south to take the newest love of his life's cock into his sweet mouth. Oh, dear! That was delicious. But after a delightful 72 seconds, Charlie remembered that his mission was instructional. Eric groaned in disappointment as Charlie slid the young man's glans from his sweet mouth. Eric hadn't cum yet and his balls were beginning to complain. Charlie saved the day, of course. "Forgive me, Mr. Eric. I forgot myself. You're the man and I'm a mere sissyboy. I should be on my knees to serve your cockknob with my mouth. Cuddling your manly testicles as I finger your manly anus." That all sounded awfully good to Eric. So he deigned to allow the mere sissyboy to stand him up as Charlie knelt and began the exquisite trio he foreshadowed so appealingly. Zowie! Eric would have been quite content to continue that situation until his 25th birthday. But nature denies us such long-term pleasures. Yet, Eric held back for the finest 14 minutes and 35 seconds in his or most anyone's life. Until Charlie's supreme efforts were rewarded with a gullet full of manly, creamy baby bullets. Wow did Eric make spermies! The first spermies he had made with another human. He wanted to experience that again. And again. Charlie was more than willing. Eric's 19-year-old meat missile had only lost a smidge of its stiffness. In Charlie's expert opinion, it would be more than ready after the boy gave the man proper instruction in the enthusiastic practice of anal sex. Kissing first, of course. With lots of praise from Eric about how sweet and beautiful Charlie was. Cock stroking. 12 minutes worth. Then... "Mr. Eric, that was awesome! Do you think we could do something that I love to do and I KNOW that you will too?" Eric would have agreed to some form of sex in a piranha-filled swimming pool at that moment in the proceedings. "Anything you want, Honey. Anything." Charlie smiled. "Well, would you like to fuck me?" Shazam! Since he first saw Charlie, young Eric's brain had been robbed of its normal blood supply because his stiffie had drained the tank. He hadn't even thought of FUCKING. Now he was thinking about fucking. Only fucking. Fucking beautiful, ultra-sexy, completely-willing, plump-bummed Charlie. He managed to speak. "I would love that, Sweetie. I want to make you happy." OK "I'll need you to get me ready, Mr. Eric. Your cock is so big and masculine that it would hurt me if you just pushed it into my bottom." "Of course, Honeybun. How would you like me to get you ready?" Charlie put on the "shy little almost virgin" act very convincingly and said, "Well, I could just put some Spermbutt Anal Lubricant on my fingers and lube my own bum. Or you could put the Spermbutt on and lube me, then your own cock. Or you could do the third way. The way sissyboys like me love so much that they fall in love with the men who do it." Wow! Eric wanted summadat third way. He cleared his throat and said, "What's the third way?" Somehow, Charlie managed a blush. And said, "Well, you could, you know, lick my anus for 15 minutes or so, sticking your tongue in to make sure it's getting ready for your big, hot, hard cock. Then use three fingers of Spermbutt to get me extra open. Put a whole lot of it on your cock so I won't be hurt. Then we can make love for the rest of the day and night." Licking a boy's bumhole? So DIRTY! So intimate. Eric was in. 22 minutes later, Eric was savoring the deliciousness of his anal archeology as he pushed, unimpeded, into Charlie's magnificent fuck passage. Charlie was oohing and aahing. Grunting and groaning. Wiggling. Gasping. Squirting. Squealing. And yes, cumming hard. Three times. Before Eric made a creamy deposit. "That was the best fuck I ever had, Mr. Eric!" Charlie said as they cuddled post-coitum. Was it true? Maybe. What was true was that Eric would no longer be sexually shy. He knew he had the goods. And there were still 45 hours on their Dream Date. Six -- A union at a reunion Jason's next assignment was to masquerade as one James Nerdley's "fiancee" at the man's twentieth high school reunion. James and Jason would have a day to get acquainted (fuck) a day at the reunion, and a day of post-reunion buzz-down (more fucking). Days one and three would be a piece of cake for Jason. More properly a piece of ass. But day two would be the tough one. Thank goodness he had been thoroughly trained in the Dark Art of prickteasing -- which must never be used on a client unless it is followed immediately by prickpleasing. Day one was very pleasant. Mr. Nerdly was a very nice man with a fine, 37-year-old body. Mr. Nerdly had replaced his coke-bottle glasses with contacts, covered his acne scars with a well-trimmed beard and buffed his body up significantly. He was fit and handsome. And would never suffer bullies again. Walking into the reunion rich, handsome, buff and with a five-star sissyboy "fiancée" would make those bullies sick. He was a bit shy with Jason. Until he saw the boy's naked body. And Jason's pretty pucker, which he practically waved in the man's face. Despite never having eaten ass before, instinct prevailed. And Mr. Nerdly feasted on his peach-shaped prize until Jason was squealing and squirting. Instinct, which can often be our best friend, served him well by directing man's cock to boy's cock receptacle. A fine cock it was too. And an even better receptacle. All the aggravations in his life, low-lighted by his seven-year marriage to the bimbo who got half of James's first half-billion, went away as he was enjoying the best moments of his life thus far. Fucking a beautiful, sexually adept and eager Jason Boneur. Mr. Nerdly cried out in real joy as he unloaded his sperm into the boy's clutching butt. After a prolonged recovery from that delicious orgasm, James realized that his lover had not yet cum. So he laid Jason onto his back and began to fellate the boy. Sweetly. Lovingly. Jason was having an excellent time as well. Even better than with the various men who had served as his "trainers" at Sissy Boy Enterprises. Mr. Nerdly was a nice man with a nice cock and an ego that needed a big boost. No one on earth can boost a man's ego like a pretty, sex-hungry sissyboy Jason surprised them both by cumming into Mr. Nerdly's mouth seconds after the man sucked his knob. Then cumming into James's mouth again twelve minutes later. Some delicious kissing ensued, followed by a second fuck where they both had life-threatening orgasms, and a four-hour post-sex nap. The best kind of snoozing. Jason woke first. Following his training and a briefing on the client's desires, Jason slid off to the bathroom, washed himself up, then dressed for success. Jason had to admit that he had revised his thinking on becoming a lingerie sissy. He knew how good he looked in a babydoll and stockings. He knew how that look had resurrected dead pricks. And his trainers mentioned to him that at age 12, he was nearing the end of conventional sissyboyhood. Men who have rationalized that sucking a 10-year-old boy's cock and swallowing his cum isn't gay because the boy looked and acted girlish drop off after age 13. But those same men will fuck a pretty lingerie crossdresser until he's 60. So the boy slid on black stockings, garter belt and a negligee so filmy all his delectable charms were visible. Black, patent-leather come-fuck-me pumps completed the cum-wrenching ensemble. Mr. Nerdly had awakened while Jason was femming up. His eyes went wide when he saw lingeried Jason. The man held open his arms. The boy hesitated for a dick-teasing moment, then rejoined his man in their bed of lust. Second breakfast was at noon. First breakfast was served at 9:37, when a lovely, nourishing sixty-nine fed their real hunger. The reunion party was at six p.m., twenty minutes from their hotel. But Mr. Nerdly wanted to appear at 7. Making an entrance. So they had about six hours of free time. What to do? Oh yeah. They fucked. James Nerdly was getting his full $150 thousand-worth. And Jason was half in love with him. Neither lover wanted to stop the sperm exchange, but Jason needed at least two hours for his transformation to hot boyfiancee. Not to mention the need for them both to sport nice, angry erections when they put on their reunion show. At precisely 6:30, Jason had completed two hours of primping and 30 mirrored minutes of self-appreciation. He was ready to face the 20th reunion world. Would the world ever be ready to face Jason Boneur that night? One would need flame-retardant sunglasses to behold the pretty boy's magnificence. Jason went boyfiancee all the way. Light brown, seamed, reinforced-heel-and-toe stockings. Four-inch, silver-heeled stilettos. A lacy garter belt whose fasteners could be glimpsed under Jason's micro-mini skirt. A tiny, pink baby tee that said "James' Sissyboy" in purple spangles. An exquisitely made-up, medium-slutty, gorgeous face. And, under it all, no bra, but pink, bikini panties with a nice opening above the anus. Let's not forget the five-carat, diamond engagement ring that would signal loudly Jason's fiancée status. Perfect. James wanted to be frisky, of course. But Jason said, rightly, that the place to be frisky would be in front of those loser clods who bullied and teased James all through high school. Let them see how a real man does his business. They took a limo, of course. James opened Jason's door and the boy extended one slender, shapely, stockinged, high-heeled leg at a time. Seven or eight of James' male classmates were standing at the school entrance when Jason appeared. Smoking weed. Or worse. Jason smiled to himself when he heard two sounds. First, a collective gasp from the classmates. Then, a muffled "huh?" when their skulls tried to sort out the cognitive dissonance of someone who was a feminine masterpiece, but appeared to be a 12-year-old, erection-evident, boy-hair-cutted whatever who was clinging to that James Nerdley character who they used to lock naked in his gym locker. Huh, indeed. James GLOWED with pride as he and his rent-a-fiancee waded through the sea of people who peaked in high school. Gasps galore. The band stopped playing. But then started up again. James led Jason onto the dance floor and they glided to a Billy Joel oldie -- "I love you just the way you are." They were the only dancers. Everyone else just stared. They danced very closely. Rubbing cocks most unashamedly. Until Jason felt the early pangs. He stopped dancing. Started tongue-kissing his man. Jason rubbed, kissed and squeaked. Until he shuddered and began to pump large glops of boy's cream into his panties. As his erotic torment subsided, Jason said, "Let me help YOU now, Mr. Nerdley." Loud enough for the whole gym to hear. Jason slid James' pants zipper down, extracted the man's cock, turned his back to James, lifted his skirt, bent over and presented his premeditatively-buttered bum to be publicly fucked. Three of the attendees' wives fainted as James gave Jason an excellent seeing-to. Every one of the men envied James with every fiber of their black hearts. James gave an exquisitely manly roar as, after 12 frantic, ferocious minutes, he deluged Jason's bum with a typhoon of man's cream. He rode out his ballbuster. The lovers disengaged. Kissed with major tongueage. Jason took James' arm. And they walked out. Proudly. Saying only, "Nice to see you all. See you at the 30th reunion." Epilogue James couldn't give Jason up. The next day, James asked Jason to marry him. Jason leapt at the offer. He pretty much loved James. James was a billionaire. And at 12, Jason wasn't getting any younger. James had to pay a million-dollar finders fee to Dream Date, of course, for poaching one of their finest "field agents." He also spotted his new mother-in-law a million to keep her happy. That was chicken feed for James. Three weeks later, it was a lovely wedding. Charlie was a sissy bridesmaid. By that time, Charlie was also engaged. To a Dream Date client with a big dick and a bigger bottom line. So everyone, as in most all of my stories, lived happily ever after. No one was put in a cock cage. No dommes. No cuckolds. Just lots of hot, dirty, satisfying SEX. Please tell me what you think at bc20002015@hotmail.com or beautifulcreamer@yahoo.com. NOTES: This one got away from me -- much longer than I thought. Two flavors of apologies: First to the kind people who have emailed me and I did not respond. Second to the people who like to read my stories. That's right. Both of you. Haven't been writing or corresponding for quite some time. I get gloomy and don't do much. Often with good reason, but things seem better now. Sorry.