Date: Tue, 10 Jun 2008 15:50:19 -0700 (PDT) From: Beautiful Creamer Subject: Dating Pretty Boys -- Part Two (gay young friends) Dating Pretty Boys Part Two One -- Rickey's Thursday Like Bobby, Rickey Fellato was a major beneficiary of the "Thursday Accords" that Bobby's Mom, Mrs. Pipeuse had negotiated for the two families. To remind, Rickey and Bobby were free to engage in any and all acts with their fathers, or anyone else's fathers between 7 p.m. Thursday and 7 a.m. Friday. In return for which, the mothers were free to engage in any activity they desired, outside the home, during those same hours. On Thursdays, Bobby's Mom would get dressed to thrill, feed her family, then, at 7 p.m. precisely, leave the house to engage in unspecified, but clearly vigorous carnality. At 7 a.m. the next day, Mrs. Pipeuse would return home, much the worse for wear, and resume the role of suburban soccer mom and loving wife. The Fellatos were not quite so precise about things. Mrs. Fellato was a working mother, so she rarely got home to cook dinner during the week. Mr. Fellato, a carpenter and building contractor, would leave home early and get home by 5:30 or so, usually before Bobby, who was off having his bottom porked by one or another of his numerous boyfriends (or manfriends). Mr. Fellato would thus cook dinner and everyone would eat together when Mrs. Fellato got home around seven. On Thursdays, Mrs. Fellato had been going straight from work to her cheap, tawdry, slutty assignation. Which was fine with Rickey and his Daddy. On Thursdays, Rickey didn't "date" after school, which was a sacrifice, but it made the boy even more "ready and randy" than usual. That summer Thursday, the one when Rickey was to present his idea of a Pipeuse-Fellato Joint Thursday Night Fuckfest for the following week, Rickey arrived home from "afternoon tickles with Bobby" around 4:30. As always, the boy was as excited as he could possibly be. Of all Rickey's lovers, his Daddy was his favorite. And the boy was practically fainting at the notion of being fucked by Bobby's daddy while his daddy watched. Maybe they would get into a fistfight over him! Oh! The thought of all that testosterone slopping around in one room was bringing Rickey dangerously close to spilling something he was saving for his Daddy. Rickey went to his room and took his clothes off. Daddy liked Rickey to be naked when he got home on Thursdays. Rickey folded his clothes carefully, then, just as a precaution against Daddy being a bit too "impetuous," Rickey lubed up his bottomhole really well with a long, pink applicator that Daddy had ordered for Rickey over the Internet. He checked the clock. 4:53. He lay on his back and, through great discipline, avoided touching his stiff, tiny cock. Which was red and twitching from the application of the applicator. And the thought of Daddy. Oh, Daddy was so handsome. And manly. Daddy was a hetero man with a weakness for pretty boys -- which was the only kind of man Rickey and Bobby wanted plowing their pretty bottoms. And Daddy worked with his hands. So his fingers and palms were rough and calloused. Oh! How Rickey adored being "felt up" by those hands. Being rubbed and cuddled and caressed by those manliest of paws. And nothing could match the delectable, intense sensations of three calloused, lubed fingers rubbing a boy's tender prostate! But Rickey couldn't think about that too much or he would... Oh. It was Daddy! Filling the doorway of Rickey's room. Home early, as he always managed to be on Thursday. Consumer tip, never have a carpenter do work on Thursday. Or a Friday, because he's still exhausted from Thursday. Back to Rickey. Rickey gasped as Daddy dropped his toolbelt. He wriggled provocatively as Daddy stripped naked from the waist up. Revealing his tanned, toned torso. He shuddered with lust as Daddy stripped completely naked, moved to the bed, and covered Rickey's small body with his own mass. Rickey swooned with desire. He didn't want to cum when Daddy rubbed his thick, seven inches against Rickey's "little thing." It just happened. Daddy made it happen by being so "Daddy." Daddy tongue-kissed Rickey all through his premature orgasm. Then when Rickey's heaving bosom settled a smidge, Daddy lifted Rickey's bottomcheeks with two rough hands and, with one rough thrust, pushed his spear into Rickey's tight, but well-lubed (thank goodness) bottomhole. Daddy fucked Rickey sort of semi-roughly -- just the way Rickey adored it! It would have been even better if it had been rougher, Rickey thought. Daddy gave Rickey a terrific rogering, pistoning the boy just the way every boy wants it. Tormenting the boy's prostate. Kissing his sweet mouth and telling him between kisses what a beautiful boy he was. And what a great fuck he was! Rickey didn't get his erection back during the fucking -- his own recent orgasm and the shock of insertion and all that. So it kind of surprised him that, though limp-dicked, he was feeling the stirrings we males live for. Pre-orgasmic stirrings. Small at first. Increasing in sharpness as Daddy fucked on. Then, the point of no return. The gasp. The crying out in ecstatic agony! Daddy grunting with his own orgasm. Bodies crashing toward a spermstorm. Sounds of love and the anguish of bliss. Two lovers heaving and twitching. And it was only 5:18. Rickey giggled at that. Poor Bobby was still an hour and 42 minutes from his good times and Rickey had already enjoyed more sex than most people get in a week. As always, Rickey and Daddy had a magnificent night and early morning. Eight cum loads for Rickey (including three in, not on, Daddy's tummy) and seven for Daddy.(four in Rickey's perfect bottom and three down his throat). At one particularly vulnerable moment for Daddy -- an imminent orgasm interrupted by a request -- Rickey proposed a Pipuese--Fellato carnal gathering for the following Thursday. Though Daddy was quite happy with the current arrangement, he was at somewhat of a disadvantage, so he agreed. Then he began to think about fucking that hot, blond, little piece-of-tail Bobby. Which made that load a particularly creamy one as it passed Rickey's soft lips. Unlike the Pipeuses, there was no firm Friday morning deadline for the cessation of incest. Mrs. Fellato went straight to work from wherever her lovenest was. So theoretically, Rickey and Daddy could have fucked until she got home that night. Alas, construction crews start early and the bills must be paid, so Daddy withdrew his thoroughly spent cock from his hottie son's ass at 5:58 a.m., kissed Rickey goodbye, showered and went off to work. As Bobby had, an exhausted, fucked-out Rickey, went back to sleep until almost noon. Unlike Bobby, Rickey didn't have a date with Matt planned for that Friday. But he was ever resourceful. Two -- Rickey's Patriotism By 12:30 Rickey had showered, eaten breakfast, dressed, changed his cum-drenched sheets and begun to walk downtown. Normally, he and Bobby would be at the pool, displaying their pretty bodies to a legion of drooling men. But at that very moment that Friday, Bobby and his Mom were lunching with an about-to-be-seduced Matt. So Rickey needed a Plan B or an entire afternoon of his glorious youth would be squandered in celibacy. Plan B was in full force as Rickey entered the town's Army recruiting station. Rickey sissied in, swinging his little hips provocatively toward the office's sole occupant -- a very hunky, tall, 30-something recruiting sergeant who was sitting at his desk doing a sudoku puzzle. The sergeant looked up and smiled benignly at his visitor. "Good morning, young man. May I help you? Are you lost or looking for your mother or something?" Rickey cast his beautiful eyes downward, as if he were insulted by the question. But he was really looking at the man's desk. Hmmm. "Pierce Youngman, Sergeant First Class, U.S. Army." A picture of the man and his family -- pretty, blonde wife; cute, ten-year-old girl; very cute twelve-year-old boy. Good, Rickey thought, he's hetero. Or thinks he is. Rickey raised his eyes to meet the man's gaze. When their eyes met, for an instant, Sergeant Youngman felt something he hadn't felt in some time. A sharp stirring in his loins. . How did that happen? Well, that was enough of that, the man thought. Sergeant Youngman couldn't pay any undue attention to this little, obviously gay prickteaser. Look how he was dressed. Micro-mini shorts, showing off those long, pink, perfect legs and emphasizing the contours of that plump, killer bottom. Tank top showing those creamy shoulders. Flips-flops exposing suckable toes. What a shame it would be to cover those toes with boots, Sergeant Youngman thought idly. Then Rickey spoke. "My name is Rickey Fellato and I'm here to serve my country. I want to join the Army." Sergeant Youngman was amused. And still a bit aroused. "That's very commendable, young fella. But I think you're too young. The law says you have to be at least 17 with parental consent or 18 without it. I don't think you're there yet." Rickey looked confused. Then disappointed. Then his eyes filled with tears. Sergeant Youngman's heart melted. The poor boy wanted to join the Army and I disappointed him, Sergeant Youngman thought. He reached into his desk drawer to find a lollipop and an Army-logoed headband. He thought, I'll just thank him, give him these and... A bawling Rickey rushed the poor man, flung himself onto the man's lap and sobbed uncontrollably. And the best actror(ess) award goes to... Sergeant Youngman was clueless. What should he do? Hugging the boy would be gay, especially in light of that earlier, random, inappropriate thought he had. Still, the boy needed comfort. So Sergeant Youngman put his arms around Rickey and said something like, "It's OK, sport. Come back and see us in a few years. I'll save a place for you." Which made Rickey sob louder. "But, Sergeant Youngman," Rickey said. "The Army needs help now! My country needs help. And the Army. If I can't join, maybe I could support the troops in another way." Uh oh. Sergeant Youngman felt blood begin to leave his brain and rush to his penis. Must...think...clearly. Must...resist...instincts. He wanted to remove Rickey from his lap and send him on his way. He really did. And he was pretty sure he could enter that intent during the mitigation and extenuation part of his trial -- after he was convicted, but before sentencing. But Rickey felt so warm and sweet and perfect sitting on his lap. Just as his son Randy did sometimes. Though nothing naughty happened with Randy. And it wouldn't with this Rickey either. There was just enough blood in Sergeant Youngman's brain for him to say, "I'm sorry son, but..." Then Rickey locked eyes with Sergeant Youngman and said, "How will I know that you'll let me join when I'm old enough? You haven't even given me a physical yet. Can I take the physical now? I heard you have a back room here where you give physicals." Sergeant Youngman could have shut it all down right then. He really could have. But his brain was getting no blood, thus no oxygen. While his cock was feasting on inner-body nourishment. It was in complete control. Dumbly, Sergeant Youngman let Rickey get off his lap, grab his hand and lead him to the back room of the recruiting station. Rickey knew that there was no "examining table" back there. He was hoping maybe they stored guns or hand grenades or something. Manly things that would make the seduction even more fun for him. Alas, it was only a small room that stored posters, flyers, papers, pencils and stuff. But still good for Rickey's purpose. Rickey led Sergeant Youngman to the room, turned and looked at his prey. The man was quivering. Looking for the courage to reject what he desperately wanted. But that kind of unwanted courage was not there. Instead, the man's cock stiffened and throbbed as he watched Rickey kick off his flip-flops, then remove his tank top and shorts. Standing there in the briefest of tiny, silky, pink, boy's underpants. Sergeant Youngman had never seen a more beautiful sight in his life. And it was getting better. Apparently shyly, Rickey turned away from Sergeant Youngman, then slowly, teasingly slid his underpants down to mid-thigh, exposing two plump, pink cheeks. Poor Sergeant Youngman! Still time for him to run away, screaming his rightful innocence. No. He had to see it all. Rickey turned to face Sergeant Youngman. The man gasped. It was the tiniest, pinkest, most perfect prick and balls he or any other man had ever seen. And the most erect. It was even prettier than his own son Randy's, the man thought, then blushed at the impure thought. Rickey looked down, then shyly upward, locking eyes with Sergeant Youngman. He said, "Do you think I could improve the morale of the troops, Sergeant Youngman?" The man tried to answer, but couldn't speak. Rickey smiled sweetly and said, "I'll take that as a yes. Can I raise your morale, Sergeant Youngman? I know you deserve it and I would feel so much better about my patriotic duty if you let me." Something snapped in Sergeant Youngman's closely cropped head. He surrendered to Rickey and to the notion of sex with Rickey. He accepted the idea. He even embraced it. Then he embraced Rickey. Stepping forward, scooping the boy into his arms and kissing him desperately. With lots of tongue. Rickey's first thought was, "Sometimes it's just too easy." His second thought was, "He's a good kisser. The manly ones usually are." Third thought: "What else can he do?" And that was the extent of his thinking that fine afternoon. Except for saying to his new lover, "Those medals you're wearing hurt my chest." Which made the man act to accommodate. In Guinness-worthy time, the man removed all of his clothes. Revealing an awesome body. Accessorized by a massive cock and heavy, pendant balls. Rickey was lucky that way. His seemed to pick well-equipped men. Sergeant Youngman was lucky too. The man and the boy kissed their way to the storeroom floor, where Rickey found himself on his back with a huge man on top of him. Rubbing cocks. The man was so big and strong and Rickey was so small and helpless. And the cock-to-cock friction felt so good on his already-distressed pricklet. Rickey loved to be dominated by a strong, handsome man. And Sergeant Youngman was all that. So, of course, in short order, randy little Rickey cried out and pumped six thick strands of boy's cream from his precious privates. Being a sergeant, the man knew how to handle privates. But he was astounded at the amount of sperm the tiny-dicked lad produced. So much that it gave Sergeant Youngman a big idea. The boy clearly wanted to be fucked. Darn it, the boy needed to be fucked. For the boy's own sake and the sake of his country. Sergeant Youngman was clearly the right man for the job. But, as any Army logistician will tell you, you need the right supplies for the mission. And there was no lube anywhere in the recruiting station. Buttering the boy's bum was essential to a good fuck. For both lovers. But there was nothing... The big idea struck Sergeant Youngman hard. The boy's cum would be the perfect lubricant. Quickly before things dried, the man used two fingers to scoop thick globs of boy's cream from the lad's stomach, then enter the boy's tight bottomhole with the cummy fingers. The boy grunted with lust as he felt the man's fingers in his special place. Such big, thick, rough fingers. Massaging his "little walnut" so nicely. Making him gasp and pant and sending more blood to his limp, drooling cock. After a few moments, the man withdrew his fingers, which made Rickey pull a pouty face. But Sergeant Youngman was only recharging his fingers with more of Rickey's sticky cream. There were those fingers again. Rubbing. Penetrating. Rickey felt early pangs of a whopper cum. But the man stopped rubbing again. Another reload? No. That time, Sergeant Youngman rubbed the remainder of Rickey's sweet cream all over his own, manly cock. A move that convinced Rickey that this wasn't Sergeant Youngman's "first rodeo" as the saying goes. The conclusion was reinforced when Sergeant Youngman placed each of the boy's ankles on one of the man's shoulders, held one of the boy's bottomcheeks in each of his massive hands, lifted them expertly to get exactly the right angle, then, without manual aid, placed his well-buttered cockhead at the entrance to erotic paradise. And pushed. Accurately. Rickey, who had long before overcome the pain part of anal sex, gasped with pleasure as he felt the big rammer enter his guts. The man slid it through the love canal slowly, but insistently, nipping the prostate and putting the boy near his second "sweet agony" of their brief acquaintance. Pretense gone, the man and the boy fucked. Hard. And properly. Oh. Sergeant Youngman was in heaven! It was even better than those times... The times he hadn't allowed himself to think of. When he was sixteen and lived next door to deliciously pretty, twin boys, aged 12. The young Sergeant Youngman KNEW he wasn't gay, but those two little cockteasers kept throwing themselves at him until one day he fucked them both. Then another day. And several days after that. Until he graduated from high school 18 months later and joined the Army. The only path, he thought at the time to Straightland. He had lived the straight life until, of all the recruiting stations in the world, Rickey walked into his. Mostly straight. If you didn't count thoughts. Like those he had about his gorgeous son Randy. In a cruel mind-fuck by Fate, his 12-year-old son was every bit as pretty as Andy and Sandy, the world's most fuckable twins. Why had he named his son similarly to them? Why was he experiencing waves of impure thoughts whenever he looked at the sweet, innocent, virginal boy? And why was he asking himself all this crap in the middle of a magnificent fuck with Rickey? The boy knew how to take a cock in his bottom. It was clear that he loved being fucked. Whimpering, gasping and squealing the way men love their fuck partners to act. The way Andy and Sandy whimpered, gasped and squealed when he would fuck them. Every afternoon. Twice each. More if they sucked him to a fifth and sixth stand. The man hadn't been this sexually excited in 17 years -- the last time he pumped his creamy loads into the twins. And Rickey was the beneficiary. Rickey came first, screaming so loud that the man was glad he had closed the storeroom door. He wondered if they could hear Rickey in the hair salon next door. Maybe they would think Sergeant Youngman was torturing a prisoner or something. No matter. At that moment, as Sergeant Youngman neared orgasm, he wouldn't stop fucking Rickey if his grandmother, his first-grade nun, his wife and his commanding officer walked in on the fuck couple. Almost there! The point where it feels even better than the actual orgasm. Then the first wave of illicit (the very best kind) pleasure. His stomach clutched and he pumped his massive load into the boy's bowels. The boy panted with delight as the man shoved and spurted. And then it was over. Sometimes shame and guilt give you a minute or two before they go after you. Poor Sergeant Youngman got a big dose of both immediately following his last pang of orgasm. And he probably would have surrendered to shame and guilt had Rickey not begun to kiss him tenderly and thank him. "Oh, thank you, Sergeant Youngman. I don't feel like such a little slacker now. I've done something for my country. And I want to do it again." Rickey disengaged the man's cock from his stretched bottom, gently rolled the man onto his back and expertly sucked the man's "soiled" cock for 20 delightful minutes. And it was ready for more. This time, Rickey got on top. Impaling himself on the reinvigorated phallus and giving Sergeant Youngman a tonguey kiss as the two coupled in erotic combat for another 25 glorious minutes. Sergeant Youngman had an even bigger cum that time. Rickey had two during the ride. Both were drenched in sperm. No matter. Following an impulse he didn't wish to control, Sergeant Youngman sucked Rickey to a fifth screaming cum, then enjoyed a reciprocal gesture from the magnificent boy. A good time was had by all. Fucked out, the two managed to get dressed and leave the storeroom, at which point, Sergeant Youngman realized that he hadn't even locked the front door of the recruiting station. A good thing few wanted to join the Army those days. And a good things there were still patriotic citizens like Rickey. The boy kissed the man good bye and promised he would be "in touch." Sergeant Youngman wondered if Rickey truly would. Then he wondered if he should do some things to enhance his own life. Three -- Bed and the Right Kind of Breakfast Rickey got home that Friday afternoon around 4:30. The house was empty and he considered his options for the rest of the day. Bobby was probably taking Matt's cock up his bottom for the third or fourth time and Matt would be staying for dinner and post-dinner sex. He could call one of his boyfriends or manfriends, any one of whom would scale a wall of broken glass to reach his bed. Hmm. He was kind of tired. All that fucking. Maybe a nap before dinner. He should probably shower first, since he smelled like a boy's boarding school an hour after lights out. Just as he began to climb the stairs, the front door flew open and there was Daddy! The best option of all. Mom never got home until seven. Daddy had left work early. Which was unusual, but not unique. Daddy must have needed a bit more "Thursday" on that Friday. Which was fine with Rickey. Minutes later, they were both naked and in Rickey's bed. Rickey was on his stomach and Daddy's cock was buried in his son's well-buttered bum. It never seemed to bother Daddy that he was getting "sloppy seconds." He was happy for the nourishment whenever he could get it. The two went at it quite vigorously until 6:35, at which time Daddy's balls were empty enough that he had regained the power of reason. Rickey changed his sheets, then showered. Alone. Daddy called for a pizza to be delivered at 7:10. Then showered. Alone. Mom walked through the door at precisely seven, kissed her husband and son and asked what was for dinner. "Pizza, sorry, honey," Daddy said. "I just got home." The pizza was really good, though Mom said everyone looked a bit tired. She suggested that she and Daddy go to bed early. Mom liked Daddy too. Rickey was fine with all that. Before Rickey went to sleep, Daddy came in to kiss him and wish him good night. And ask him a favor. "Mr. Bigbux has a contract that would be really good for Daddy's business," Daddy told his son. "I told him maybe he could decide more clearly if you and he spent Saturday night at the DeSkreet Bed and Breakfast. You could go to the pool with Bobby tomorrow and Mr. Bigbux could pick you up at 2. Would that be OK?" Rickey hugged Daddy and said, "Of course, Daddy. You know I love to help the family however I can." Rickey had, in fact, "dated" several of Daddy's big clients, mostly on overnights at the DeSkreet Bed and Breakfast. Rickey loved to fuck. And so did the nice men who took him away. No problem. It was lots of fun. The next morning, Rickey and Bobby went to the pool and, as described in part one, Matt came out about dating Bobby. Matt's lifeguard friend Derek also came out about being interested in Rickey. Rickey thought Derek was super-cute. So Rickey asked Bobby to ask Matt about a double date for Monday night. He was pretty sure Derek would say yes. Rickey came home from the pool that Saturday all excited about his date with Mr. Bigbux. Daddy told Rickey that the man was forty-something, married with children and as far as Daddy knew, new to pretty-boy-dating. Rickey would have to be gentle with him. The boy took a nice, long bubble bath -- in no rush to be punctual for his date. Making them wait is something pretty boys learn from girls. He patted himself dry, then powdered himself and double-lubricated his bottomhole, just in case. Dressing, he put on his skimpiest, silkiest, pinkest undperpants, tucking his tiny package in nicely. Then he put on a powder-blue tshirt that said "Perfect;" white, micro-short shorts; and strappy sandals that showed off his toes prettily. He combed his brown hair carefully, noted that he had kept his date waiting nearly 15 minutes, made a kissy-lips at the mirror, giggled and went downstairs. The man was sitting with Mr. and Mrs. Fellato, trying mightily not to die of fear and embarrassment. Mr. Bigbux had never done anything this gay or illegal in his whole, dull life. Talking to the parents of an underage boy whom he was taking away for (he hoped) sex, struck terror into every pore. Three times during the 15 torturous minutes of small talk, Mr. Bigbux almost bolted. But he had seen Rickey at the swimming pool, with his equally sexy friend Bobby. And the man knew that he either had to fuck one of the boys (or both) or die from overwanking. Mr. Bigbux would endure just about anything for the pleasure of his cock in the boy's hot, pretty bottom. He had even told his wife that he would be training with his National Guard unit that weekend. In preparation for an invasion of Canada. Which she wasn't supposed to talk about. Fact was, he wasn't even in the National Guard. And he was pretty sure Canada was safe from U.S. attack. When Rickey appeared, he illuminated the room. Mr. Bigbux gasped. And his Johnson engorged with blood. Rickey noticed and even managed a blush. And a shy, almost virginal smile. The boy liked what he saw. The man was fit and handsome. Rickey recognized him as one of the legion of men who stared at Bobby and him at the pool. So he had seen the man in a bathing suit. And it was all good. Rickey, shyly walked up to Mr. Bigbux, gave him a chaste hug and said, "Very pleased to meet you, Mr. Bigbux. Thank you for taking me into the country for some fresh air. Mom and Daddy have been so busy. It's nice of you to take me." That set Mr. Bigbux back a bit. Didn't Rickey know that the man was taking him to a hotel so they could fuck all weekend? He had to. Didn't he? Rickey grabbed his overnight bag, kissed his Mom and Daddy goodbye, took Mr. Bigbux's arm and walked with him to the man's Porsche. That was fun already. The B&B was an hour out of town, during which Rickey pretty much monologued about school and his family and his favorite bands, TV shows and food. Nothing about sex. Just a young, chaste boy talking chaste-boy stuff. Which made Mr. Bigbux even antsier about things. Hadn't Rickey's father told the boy why he was going away? Would they be having separate rooms at the B&B? Well, if so, at least he wouldn't be committing any felonies, Mr. Bigbux consoled himself. But no sex either. [Sigh] Maybe it was all for the best. They arrived at the B&B at 3:25 -- just after check-in time. Mr. Bigbux noticed that he wasn't the only potential pervert. Three other "uncles" were checking in. One with a gorgeous 12-ish boy who was making eyes at Rickey. One with a stunning 13-ish girl. A third with someone prettier than the first two. Thirteen-ish, dressed in a little-girl, petticoated, pink, party dress, with ankle socks and Mary Janes. And Mr. Bigbux was pretty sure that "she" was a boy. Though a gorgeous one. When it was their turn to check in, the proprietress, Miss DeSkreet, said, "Here's your reservation. Room 6. John Smith and his nephew Rickey. Will you be paying cash, Mr. Smith?" "Smith" nodded. And was delighted that they would be sharing a room. Though he winced a bit at paying $1,000 for the room. "That includes breakfast and a delicious cold supper, which is in your room refrigerator," Miss DeSkreet said. "You and your nephew can come to the dining room for a regular dinner if you wish, though few of our gentlemen do." Mr. Bigbux's cock twitched at the implication. Rickey was being careful not to look at Miss DeSkreet. Rickey was a "regular," but he didn't want Mr. Bigbux to know that. Miss DeSkreet smiled to herself. Him again, she thought. The boy gets around. Armed with their key, man and boy climbed the stairs. Through the hall window they saw the pool. "We can go to the pool if you want, Rickey," Mr. Bigbux said. Rickey just smiled and grabbed Mr. Bigbux's arm. They opened the door and went in. Nice, typical, upscale B&B room. Big, four-poster bed. Big refrigerator that held the cold supper and soft drinks. Rickey said, "It's very nice, Mr. Bigbux. Thank you again. Excuse me. I have to tinkle." "Anything you want, Rickey," the man said. And began to plan his evening. I could take him to the pool, he thought. The boy likes that. Then, after supper, maybe I could ask him to sit on my lap... He heard the toilet flush. Then running water. Off. Three or four minutes without sound. Then the bathroom door opened and out stepped a naked-except for his pink underpants Rickey. Smiling beautifully, Rickey sissied to the bed, slowly shimmied down his underpants, and lay on his back on the bed. Eyes locked on Mr. Bigbux. Stroking his tiny, painfully erect cock. Well. That cleared up some ambiguities. Mr. Bigbux stripped naked, stood at the foot of the bed and considered his prize. A soft, slim, pink body, throbbing with sexual desire. Pretty toes wiggling in anticipation of physical delight. Beautiful eyes sparkling. Long, delicious legs, parted slightly to give naughty glimpses of the boy's wrinkled hole. And his pretty, tiny, pink "package!" Oh. Mr. Bigbux had never seen a lovelier sight. And apparently it was all his for the taking. Though there had to be limits. How would he... "Whatever you want, you big, handsome man," Rickey purred. OK then. Rickey liked what he saw as well. The man was first-rate. Middle-aged masculinity at its best. Muscular and hairy. With a big, stiff cock and heavy balls. Yum. Rickey opened his mouth and held out his arms. The man joined him on the bed. Consuming the boy with his large body. Kissing, Rubbing. Melting his flesh with Rickey's. The boy gasped and panted. And was glad that he had double-lubed himself again when he went to the bathroom. Rather than a long courtship, Rickey cut to the "bottom" line. He rolled onto his stomach, propped himself onto his knees and wiggled his well-buttered ass for a fucking. Mr. Bigbux accepted the invitation. He rose to his knees and parted the boy's bottomcheeks with his thumbs. He hesitated a moment until the boy said, "It's all lubed." The boy took a deep breath, and relaxed as well as he could. He opened his sphincter as if to poop. The man placed his cock at the entrance to love's epicenter, then entered the boy with one steady thrust. The boy screamed. The man worried that a) the boy was harmed and b) someone would run to his rescue, battering down the door. Bringing police. Then he remembered where he was. The DeSkreet B&B. A great place. And the boy was far from injured. He was squealing and begging desperately, "Harder! Deeper! More!" Enthusiasm like that from one's partner is to be treasured, gentlemen. Mr. Bigbux pumped and pumped and Rickey squealed and gasped. The man added to the boy's excitement by reaching around the boy's right hip and holding the boy's pink parts in his warm, manly hand. First he "stirred the boy's stones," cuddling the little walnuts as they made frantic love. Then Mr. Bigbux proceeded to more active measures, stroking the shaft of the boy's prick as he thrust forward and back. As the delicious friction moved toward its inevitable, happy conclusion, Mr. Bigbux found Rickey's foreskin with his thumb and forefinger. And Rickey found nirvana. Crying out as he spurted for the first of what he knew would be many times during that fuck-filled weekend. Your average guy, even if he's a newlywed, is never totally sure about whether he'll get laid on any given occasion. When you date pretty boys like Rickey and Bobby, there's never any doubt. Rickey pumped his cream happily, which made his anus contract even more on Mr. Bigbux's delighted prick. Which was the "little extra" that made the man lose his own creamy treasure. In thick globs. Filling his new love's bowels. Convincing him that he should leave his wife and kids, sell his business and move with Rickey to a country where no one uses toothpaste, but a man-boy couple fucking 16 hours a day would hardly raise an eyebrow. That's the kind of thoughts you get when you've just fucked a Rickey or a Bobby. Or so I imagine. Anyway, the momentarily sated lovers "uncoupled." Mr. Bigbux lay on his back as Rickey cuddled his perfect, naked body against him. Playing with the man's chest hair. Breathing in short pants. Mr. Bigbux spoke first. "That was fantastic, Rickey. I can never thank you enough." Rickey giggled sweetly. Then he said, "It was my pleasure, Mr. Bigbux. And just think. Checkout time isn't until noon tomorrow. Nineteen-and-a-half hours from now!" On the one hand, the prospect of that much time with the perfectly fuckable, gorgeous Rickey delighted Mr. Bigbux. On the other, he wondered which funeral home his wife would use to take care of his "arrangements." He would have to pace himself. Rest a moment. Kiss Rickey. Yum. The boy was a great kisser and his tongue was the food any man craves. When he first began to "observe" Rickey and his friend Bobby at the pool, Mr. Bigbux was more attracted to Bobby. Though it was obvious to Mr. Bigbux that Bobby wanted that young lifeguard. Bobby was an incredible sissyboy. Those big, suckable nipples! And the blond hair! Men can't help the blond thing. It's genetic or something. And Bobby's obvious Speedo "bulge." The boy was packing! Rickey was a contrast. Brown hair. Smaller nipples and privates. Equally beautiful face and body. Mr. Bigbux forgot about Bobby and directed his adoration to Rickey. Who had stopped kissing Mr. Bigbux and was actively sucking his cock. Oh my. That was nice. Very nice. The boy could suck cock. And lick hairy balls too. It hadn't even been ten minutes since..... There was no way he could... Oh. The man felt a certain stiffening of things. More. Five minutes later, Mr. Bigbux's penis was standing skinned and proud. And Rickey was astride him, easing his bottom down for a delicious impalement. Just as he had with Sergeant Youngman. If it works, stick with it. Keep sticking it in. Rickey sat on Mr. Bigbux's revived manhood and leaned over to tongue-kiss him. They kissed and fucked like that for a glorious half hour. Mr. Bigbux skinning Rickey's tiny foreskin sweetly all the while. Making the boy cum twice. All over Mr. Bigbux. When Mr. Bigbux shot his manly cream, he cried out more loudly than Rickey had. It was as if he were exorcising the demons that had restrained his life to that point. And he began life anew. The lovers couldn't fuck every minute of their 20 hours together. But they sure tried. They took a break to eat supper around 7 p.m., which refreshed them and inspired Mr. Bigbux to suck Rickey's cock and swallow the boy's cum -- a happy event he repeated twice before morning. They slept a bit too. Until one or the other would decide that sex trumped sleep and they would grapple and grunt ecstatically. At 6:30 a.m. after a rousing fuck, Rickey told Mr. Bigbux that he was hungry. "Can we please shower, dress and go eat breakfast?" Though disappointed, Mr. Bigbux didn't see disappointing Rickey as a good, long-term strategy. So he agreed. The mutual shower took way longer than a solo shower would have -- Rickey happily receiving yet another dose of sperm in his bowels. Finally, around 7:30, they were dressed and left the room. Mr. Bigbux noticed Rickey putting the "please make up this room hanger" on the doorknob. Which saddened him. He had figured to be back to the room by 8, then fuck Rickey for four hours. How much was a late checkout, he wondered? Well, no need to be greedy. Maybe the boy was homesick. Or his bottom was sore. The couple descended the stairs and, holding hands, entered the dining room. Wow. It was full. Fifteen or sixteen sets of "uncles" and their "nephews" and "nieces." Everyone looked so happy and "satisfied." Mr. Bigbux recognized the people they had checked in with, especially the "girl" who had worn the pink party dress and the beginnings of an Adam's apple. "She" looked very different and very hot that morning. She was wearing a yellow sundress; tan, seamed, fully-fashioned, reinforced-heel-and-toe stockings; and yellow, four-inch-stiletto, strappy sandals. Despite his cock's recent marathon, his manhood stirred at the sight of her. Miss DeSkreet snapped Mr. Bigbux from his reverie. "Good morning, Mr. Smith. Rickey. I trust you `slept' well? I'm afraid we have a bit of a rush hour situation. May I seat you at a table with Mr. Jones and his nephew Justin?" Mr. Bigbux and Rickey saw empty seats next to the man and fatally cute boy who had checked in with them yesterday. The boy who had been flirting with Rickey. Without waiting for Mr. Bigbux's reply, Rickey sat next to Justin. Mr. Bigbux sat next to Rickey and nodded at Justin's "uncle." "John Smith," Mr. Bigbux said. "Bill Jones," the smiling, hunky man replied. The boys were batting eyes at each other and doing silly, boyish whispering. Then Rickey said, "Uncle John, Justin and I have to go to the little boys' room. Would you order us breakfast, please?" It took Mr. Bigbux a minute to realize he was "Uncle John." Then he said, "Of course, Rickey." The two giggling, little creampuffs went off toward the men's room hand-in-hand. Mr. Bigbux felt uncomfortable sitting there alone with his fellow "pervert." Who didn't seem the least bit uncomfortable. "I wonder who'll suck the other's cock first?" "Jones" wondered aloud. Mr. Bigbux was a bit shocked by Jones' directness. Jones noticed. "First time here, I see," Jones said. "That's OK. You'll be a regular before you know it. There's no greater fun in this universe than to spend an overnight with one of these hot little tamales. No one's forcing them. They love it. We love it. Miss DeSkreet loves it. No problem." Mr. Bigbux relaxed a bit. Then Jones said, "We may as well order breakfast. Those two won't be back until they've swallowed each other's cream. And since they've both had an `active' night and morning, that could take a while. Miss DeSkreet knows and she'll bring out their breakfast when they come back." Mr. Bigbux wasn't totally happy about that little doll Justin cutting in on his territory with Rickey, but he surrendered to the inevitable. And to a plate of excellent blueberry pancakes and sausage. Jones was a pleasant enough chap, chatting on about baseball and the stock market. No personal information. No real names. Rickey and Justin got back to the table 35 minutes after they left, looking like the cats who had swallowed the cream. Miss DeSkreet brought their breakfasts immediately and they tore into them as the men drank their coffee. Halfway through their pancakes, Rickey said, "Uncle John and Mr. Jones, Justin and I had an idea. We were wondering if, maybe after breakfast, Uncle John could show Justin our room and Mr. Jones could show me their room. Just to see what the other rooms here are like. We could go back to our own rooms at 11, an hour before checkout. Would that be OK?" Jones smiled broadly. He would. Mr. Bigbux gulped. Hard. He couldn't leave this boy, whose parents entrusted him with Rickey's well-being, in the hands of a stranger bent on fucking him! Not to mention that someone other than Mr. Bigbux would be fucking Rickey! But. It was clearly what Rickey wanted. And Justin was very cute. [Sigh.] "Of course, Rickey," Mr. Bigbux heard himself saying. Rickey hugged Mr. Bigbux and the boys wolfed down their breakfasts. Mr. Bigbux felt a sharp pang when he saw Rickey go off hand-in-hand with that Jones person -- probably not even his real name. But he did have Justin's warm hand in his. And Justin was extraordinarily cute. Short -- perhaps five foot one. Young -- barely 12, if that. Slim. Big blue eyes. Pretty toes. And suddenly, he was alone with a boy he had met an hour ago. With two hours to fuck him silly. Mr. Bigbux noted absently that their room had been refreshed, including fresh sheets. So they wouldn't be rolling around in the cum-drenched cottons of the night before. It was good you got something for your $1,000 per night. But how did Billy know to have the sheets changed? No matter. Justin was on his plate now and he was hungrier than he had imagined. Mr. Bigbux closed the room door and Justin stood before him. Waiting. Unlike his first moves with Rickey, Mr. Bigbux took the lead. He undressed Justin slowly, kissing each part of the body as he bared it. When the boy was naked, the man stripped. And carried the boy to the fresh bed. They kissed, side by side. The man entered the boy's bottom with his rude finger. It was very slippery back there. No need to relube. Had he and Rickey lubed up in the men's room? No matter. The boy wanted a good fucking and the man was happy to oblige. He spooned up behind the boy and entered him. Adoring the gasps the boy made as he felt his bowels fill with cock. Did every young boy secretly (or not so secretly) want to be fucked? At that moment, Mr. Bigbux vowed to find out the answer. The boy turned his head for kisses as they fucked and the man alternately pinched the boy's nipples and skinned his foreskin throughout the bout of love. At 9:45, Mr. Bigbux erupted in Justin's pretty bottom, just as the boy bedewed Mr. Bigbux's hand with his thinning cream. Mr. Bigbux was exhausted. He could never fuck again. He would have to tell Justin the bad news. Turn the TV on for him. Cartoons. Wait. There was no TV! What kind of a place... Oh. Justin was straddling Mr. Bigbux's shoulders, feeding the man his cock. Pumping his limp drooling penis across the man's tongue. Doing all the work as the tired, older gentleman rested. That was very nice. He loved bringing Rickey pleasure and he loved doing the same for Justin. Maybe Justin could join Rickey and him in that foreign and forgiving country. At 10:10, Justin's cock stiffened completely. At 10:14, he pumped three watery strands of sticky cream into Mr. Bigbux's delighted mouth. He began to think that maybe it would be nice to fuck Justin one more time, but his cock was still DOA. Every man has limits and he had reached... Whoa! What was Justin doing? The little tramp had his nose buried in Mr. Bigbux's asshole! Then the nose was out and a tongue was replacing it! What was he doing???? Something totally intimate and disgustingly dirty. And it was working. Mr. Bigbux's cock was coming back from the Big Beyond. Mightily. He could hear the theme from "Rocky" in his mind as his big boy stood tall. Justin got on his back, lifted his legs and exposed his pootie to Mr. Bigbux, who mounted the boy and stuck his whole meat in with one manly thrust. How the two of them ever managed to orgasm again is one for the medical journals, not this story. But at 10:48, Justin produced three drops of semen from an orgasm that practically blew his head off. Mr. Bigbux managed a watery drool, but the climax was intense. The poor, exhausted man rolled onto his back and awaited death. The boy had more energy. He lay on top of the man, kissed him and thanked him. "You're wonderful, Mr. Smith! So much better than that Mr. Jones who brought me. I'm leaving you my cell phone number right here. Call me in a day or two and you can meet my parents. Then you can start bringing me here any night you want. I'll even introduce you to my friends. I have lots of pretty friends who love to date nice men." Jackpot! If he could only live to take advantage of the best offer he had ever had. He kissed Justin, thanked him profusely, then, despite an ache in his balls that felt as if they had been horsewhipped, he passed out Poor Mr. Smith, Justin thought. They all act like this when they first come to the DeSkreet B&B. He'll get used to it. Maybe they could come back here on Tuesday. Justin had no date for Tuesday night. He was pretty sure the man would call him tomorrow. Anyway, Justin slid out of the room and headed back to his room with Mr. Jones. Who, in reality, was just as good a fuck as Mr. Smith. Sometimes pretty boys tell men what they want to hear. Four steps down the hall he ran into Rickey. The boys giggled like the cockpleasing little conspirators they were. They kissed and hugged right there in the hall, doing deep tongue very nicely. "I think I killed your manfriend, Rickey," Justin said between kisses. "We'll see about that," Rickey giggled. "I already called the undertaker for Mr. Jones." More giggling and kissing. Then they went back to reunite with their dates. Rickey slipped into the room and saw a naked man, on his back, snoring. Pubic area and chest spotted with cum. Cock in a sad state. And checkout was in an hour and two minutes. A challenge. Rickey stripped nude and joined Mr. Bigbux on the bed. Cuddling up to him and stroking the man's fat, deceased cock. The man stirred, as we all do when our cock, dead or alive, is touched. Rickey slid down to kiss its fiery, drooling head. Oh my! Was that a callous forming on his cock from overuse? Mr. Bigbux awoke with a start. "Oh, Rickey. You're back. I missed you." "I missed you too, Mr. Bigbux," Rickey said, though it appeared that Mr. Bigbux had done quite well without him. "Rickey, my sweet darling, I can't get another erection. I just can't. [Limits. The Laws of the Universe. Yadda yadda.]" Two ways to play this if he wanted to be fucked one more time before going home, Rickey thought. He could whine about how neglectful his date had been, using up all his manliness on another boy and saving none for Rickey. Chances of guilt producing an erection were slim. So it was Plan B Rickey let his eyes fill with tears, though not to induce guilt. Instead, he said, "Oh, I so wanted one more try at...you know." Mr. Bigbux's puzzled expression was enough of an answer. Rickey pressed on. "I want you to make me pregnant. I know you could. You're so handsome and manly and if anyone can do it, you can." All the while, Rickey had a sad, disappointed expression. Pregnant? The boy wanted to be knocked up. Impossible. Laws of the Universe. Yadda yadda. Still. Cue "Rocky." For Rickey. The thought of making that pretty boy preggers! Oh. That did the trick. Summoning uncharted resources, Mr. Bigbux rose again. And fucked Rickey beautifully and thoroughly by 11:40. Allowing them just enough time to shower, vacate and check out. As they sat in Mr. Bigbux's Porsche, ready for the ride home, Rickey asked, "Are you sure you can drive home?" Good question. He leaned over and kissed the boy. "I love you, Rickey," he said. "Maybe it's silly, but I love you. I hope we can see each other a lot." "Me too, Mr. Bigbux." Rickey said. And he meant it. Mr. Bigbux dropped Rickey at his house at around 2. They stopped off for a nice lunch on the way home, but ceased and desisted from any more sex. In the interest of Mr. Bigbux's health. Mom and Daddy were happy to see Rickey looking happy and healthy. Daddy was super happy when Mr. Bigbux gave him a signed contract for not only one medium-sized project but three bigger projects! How about that Rickey! Daddy told Mr. Bigbux that he was welcome any time to date Rickey. Everyone was very happy. Especially Rickey. He needed a nap and took a long one, getting up for supper at 6. Four -- Rickey and Bobby together again After supper, Bobby rang Rickey's doorbell. Rickey's Mom and Daddy were always happy to see Bobby. Especially Daddy, who was counting the hours until he could fuck the blond angel. The boys scooted off to Rickey's room, got naked and into bed, cuddling, to update each other. Rickey told Bobby all about his wonderful trip to the B&B with Mr. Bigbux. Bobby told Rickey about his movie date, followed by an evening of love with Matt. Then Bobby told him about his Sunday. "Matt only worked on Sunday morning, so he was able to come to the house by one p.m. I think he thought we were going to my room and `working out' for three or four hours. But I wanted a real date. [giggle] "So I said, `Let's go for a walk in the park.' So we did. "Matt was really embarrassed to walk out of our house hand-in-hand, six blocks to the park. With people staring at us. But if you want pretty boys like you and me, Rickey, you have to earn us. Right?" In answer, Rickey rubbed his cock against Bobby's. Kissing deeply. Until they both spurted their cream. Then Bobby resumed his tale. "We got to the park and all kinds of people were there on a nice day. I think we were the only older boy-younger boy couple there. Anyway, it made Matt really blush." "But it didn't stop him, did it, Bobby?" "He's not stupid, Rickey. [Giggle] We even found a park bench, right along the main thoroughfare. Hundreds of people walking by. So what did I ask him to do?" Rickey knew, "Kiss me, Matt." Bobby smiled at the memory. "That's right. I saw one teensy moment of hesitation in Matt's eyes. He would have been weird if he didn't have one. But then he kissed me. Right in front of a summer Sunday afternoon park crowd." "Wow!" Rickey said. "I know. He's a keeper. After about 20 minutes of that, I said, "Will you take me home and fuck me now, Matt? I need it bad." "Awesome! So he did?" "So he did. Oh, and we're double-dating with Matt and Derek tomorrow night. They have late shift at the pool, so they'll pick us up at 8. I'm thinking drive-in movie." "Me too," Rickey said. Then he slid into a sweet 69 with his best friend. More about the pretty boys soon. I welcome your comments at beautifulcreamer@yahoo.com. Other stories on nifty: "The Little Prickpleaser" (gay incest) August 22, 2007 "Sweetyboys" (gay young friends) August 31, 2007 "Boarding-School Bedmates" (bisexual adult-youth, though it's quite gay) May 5, 2008 "After-School Stroke Club" (gay high school) May 28, 2008 "Pretty" (gay adult-youth) May 21, 2008 "Dating Pretty Boys" (gay young friends) May 29, 2008 "Hotel Management" (gay adult-youth) June 2, 2008