Date: Wed, 27 Jan 2021 16:26:51 +0200 From: Ryan White Subject: It's a Nifty Life HOLA PEEPS! This story...is so far out of my comfort zone it's not even funny. Basically it's a snippet of my very REAL daily life, in a story. I'm taking a chance here...but I really hope you enjoy it. As always, my email address is liciousryan@gmail.com Stay safe, Ryan xx IT'S A NIFTY LIFE "Coffee, please. Filter, warm milk. Thank you." I flipped open my laptop and logged into Gmail to see if I had any new emails from readers since checking the previous evening. God knows, I could really do with some cheering up right now. I craved coffee at that moment more than I craved sex, and that alone said a lot. Clicking twice on the icon, my Gmail account opened right in front of my eyes and I was more than pleasantly surprised to see there were four emails ready and waiting for me to read. Fantastic! Being a author for the Nifty Erotic Archive was a blessing as well as a curse sometimes. There were days that you would literally spend about five full hours typing on your laptop, and that of course included spell checks as well as editing of the story after you were done. The only compensation that we authors ever get or even want, is some good and decent feedback from the people who log onto Nifty to read them. And then...boy, oh boy...there were those times where you would put your heart and soul into a certain story...only to not receive ANY emails from readers. Or maybe two...three if you were lucky. Believe me that has happened to me, and I'll bet to other Nifty authors a LOT...and any confidence you thought you had in your writing abilities tended to fly straight out the window at that desperately low point. The mere thought that people hated what you so proudly submitted...not a good feeling. At all. But then...on the opposite end of the totem pole...when you wake up in the morning after you submitted a story...and you see the emails and feedback flood your Gmail account...you tend to make a coffee and simply lay back in bed for a few minutes and enjoy AND appreciate every positive word that had been taken the time to send you. That was fucking amazing too. Every Nifty Author would tell you that. The first two emails that morning, was flattering and it really made me smile. Awww, thanks so much... I started to type back before the waiter on duty blessed me with his handsome presence and placed my ordered coffee before me. I smiled as a way of saying thank you and he, perhaps sensing that I was busy and that I wanted to be left alone, smiled back, nodded and left to attend to his other tables. Such a beautiful man, I thought as I continued to send thanks to my readers. Yeah...he was hot...but not quite what I was into, sexually. The third email was more of an insult that constructive feedback. I was basically slandered for not writing enough sexual content in my stories. Brother...I was doing the best I can...you literally cannot satisfy everyone out there, can you? I typed back that I thanked him for his opinion and that I hoped he would give future chapters of said story another chance. Everyone was entitled to their own opinions. I sat back and took a sip of my coffee, taking my time to find something or someone as inspiration to use in my next chapter of Slender Beggar (adult friends) because that was currently the story that had gotten me the most email and feedback, so I tended to give it priority. My eyes flashed over a family that sat in the corner of the coffee shop across from me...they must have entered after I had taken my seat...I had been so busy thinking of some possible storylines I didn't even notice them enter. Now, if I had one thing or one factor about myself that I would most probably change if I ever could, was the fact that I was a born peadophile. Yea, you read correctly. And that's why my speciality, when it came to writing a story, was the Adult Youth section in the nifty archive. I was stunned that there was so many people out there who felt exactly the same as me...attracted to young boys. Young kids, and teenagers to be exact. I was turning 30 this year and being attracted to boys of twelve...eleven...and god help me...even sometimes boys that were a mere ten years old, it was getting harder and harder to justify. Or to hide. When it came to writing a story about having sexual relations with other young boys in those categories, I more than often hit a snag. There would be a virtual curtain hung before my eyes as I attempted to put my thoughts into words...very difficult to write about something you had in fact dreamt about, but never got to do. Dream about...oh yeah. But I had never ever had the opportunity to actually make a boy...mine. To feel his soft body beneath mine. To feel my lips on his. To kiss my way down his slim, yet boyish stomach. To feel that forbidden kiddie penis grow and purely blossom in the palm of your hands and even worse...to actually take it into your thirsty ass mouth and taste the so called forbidden fruit until you could actually feel him pulse in your mouth. And sometimes...when you were lucky...there would be a smidgeon of watery sperm that you could sample straight from his emptied out kiddie balls. I'd go as high as 13 year old boys, but that's where the attraction stopped. Unfortunately. I digress. Said family I was telling you guys about was having what looked like an early breakfast. It was nearly nine a clock and because this happened in the middle of the school holidays, I was stunned that young boys such as the ones at the table across from me, would even willingly be up at this time. Their parents ordered those two handsome tykes what looked like orange juice and blueberry pancakes and they were literally devouring them like wolves. As I tried to make it seem that I was busy working on my laptop I overheard them saying they still had a long way to go until they got to their destination...holiday makers passing by, I guess? The oldest boy was so incredibly beautiful...it was insane that someone that age, which I honestly guessed would be somewhere between twelve or thirteen, happened to have the looks that most adult men would cry a mile for. His brother...don't even. Think of a ten year old Romeo Beckham...god...this was insane. Out of all the tables in this entire fucking coffee shop, did they have to come and park across from me? I drank my coffee as quick as I could before I started to pack up my things, when it suddenly caught my attention. The thirteen year old, the eldest of the two...now was it my sick, peado infused imagination, or was he totally checking out the waiter? I had to admit if I was into men in their twenties, that said waiter would be pretty much near the top of my lust list...but I was pretty damn sure that I was right. And he only did it, when he thought that his parents weren't watching as well. It was suddenly as clear as day. The waiter didn't seem like he had noticed anything, and I was sure the moment he had walked away from their table. The boy stared at him with a longing that would even battle mine for him, for supremacy. I'll probably never see these two beautiful bots ever again in my life, which was the complete utter sad part out of all of this...but what it did, was give me a great idea for a story. Like I said...my speciality was the Adult Youth section on Nifty...now if only I'd be able to memorize him back home when I would later on attempt to write... I took out my phone and held it in the rectangular position. Making out like I was taking a selfie, I switched the camera angles so that the boy in question was fully in shot. I continued with my farce of taking said selfie and managed to get a great close up picture of the thirteen year old boy. I'd be totally needing that later on that night...and not only for writing purposes. ** Every Nifty author will tell you...you gotta give the readers what they want. And what most of Nifty readers visit the site for, is to get their rocks off. Fast forward several hours, and by now I was in such a trance having the photo of this hot little kid on my phone before me as I merrily typed away at my story of a young thirteen year old who visited a restaurant with his parents, only to have the waiter serving them being hot as fuck, and whom gave the little boy a boner like he had never quite had before. I smiled I as typed and described the kid's cock...five inches in length and it would bob rock hard in mid air...the anticipation of what was about to happen evident on his handsome little face and red cheeks. The waiter would enter the bathroom of the restaurant after the boy had slipped him a note by asking to meet him there...and when he would see the young little boy in the flesh...as naked as when he was born...he would smile...and lick his lips. Not believing his sheer luck, having secretly been into boys of this tender age all his adult life, the waiter should immediately sink to his knees and bring the boy closer to him. He'd ever so carefully embrace that rock hard kiddie penis with his forefinger and his thumb...he would aww and be amazed as the hardness and at the heat this little boy's morsel would be giving off. He would see the boy's stomach heave in and out ever so enthusiastically as this was the very first time someone other than his parents or himself had touched his most private area...with a slow swallow and a yearning to taste what he had on offer...he waiter would wink at the boy...and engulf his stiff five incher. The boy would instantly back up against the wall of said bathroom having never ever felt this kind of pleasure before in his thirteen years on this earth. The waiter would revel in how disgusting and how horrible what he was doing would look to others...and with all that in mind, he would REALLY go to town on the kid's dick. He could taste the soapiness of the kids recent shower...the surprising amount of bittersweet goodness that was positively POURING out of the kid's organ. Lashing his tongue over the miniature little piss slit over and over again...reaching down to his little gonad ballies, and squeezing them so gently, that the kid would yelp in utter sexual pleasure. Those same little ballies was able to fucking make sperm...he just knew it. As I wrote, my own cock got harder and harder at the prospect of the young ass boy cumming inside the waiter's mouth...man, oh man...if only that could really happen to me. I was yearning now...for YEARS to actually make a move on a little boy...I never could. I'd always, always chicken out. Afraid. Scared. Confidence at an all time low. The only way I could even try to get it out of my system...was to write about it, so others could read what was going on in my fucked up peadophile mind. My fingers danced across the keyboard...the little boy was now grabbing at the waiter's short hair for sheer stability...it honestly felt like he was beginning to lose the ability to stay up straight. The feelings coming for his kiddie cockie was more than any thirteen year old was ready for. He hissed as he once more felt the adult tongue graze his wide open, flaring piss slit, as if the waiter wanted to coax the spermies out of his ballies. There was no way that the kid could hang on. His dick was like an molten lava cake...ready to fire. The waiter must have sensed that the boy was nearing his crescendo because he desperately grabbed the back of the kid's buttocks and organ and began to fellate the little dude like he had never before. Up...down...up...down every inch if delicate length that the boy possessed. He felt the boys leg shake uncontrollably. His stomach was pull inward as far as it would go. His chest was heaving and his eyes rolled back in their sockets. With a whimper...and a childish roar from deep inside his throat, the little thirteen year old boy squirted what little watery substance he had into the mouth if said waiter. The latter tried his utmost best to not let any, and I mean, any of the precious liquid slip away. This was pure kiddie cum...pretty much as jailbait as things came in life...you didn't dare complain when you were lucky enough to taste it. The waiter swallowed...and swallowed...until his throat was on the verge of burning. The sweetness of the sperm...that potent flavour so very much connected with only what a small boy can produce.. it was so ripe on his breath he nearly collapsed in sheer sexual orbit. ** After I had edited the story...which I totally meant to do just as a once off to see if I still had it in me to write a semi decent story...I sent it straight to the Nifty Archivist. Knowing it would take a few hours to get published on the site, I sent out an another email to my most ardent followers, who most often gave me feedback on what I wrote, informing them that I had something ready for Adult Youth soon and they were more than welcome to check it guy. I received three email's back, thanking me for the heads up, before I closed my laptop. Wow...it would really be something if I could one day sample a real life young boy like the ones that I write about in my stories. Geez louise...shaking my head, I closed my eyes and enjoyed a couple of moments of quietness. I was really looking forward to whatever feedback I was gonna get on this story, especially because it had been written around two real life people I had seen earlier in the day. My mouth watered as I remembered the boy...some day. Some day... ** Before I went to sleep that night I saw that I had an email from the Nifty Archivist, telling me that he/she had added my story to the archive. You always get such an email just to confirm that your submission had been successful. Like with every new story and every new chapter you submit from a certain story, you tend to worry if it is going to be read and by whom. And even if they do, will said story impress people enough to take the time to send you some much needed feedback? Like I said...those who write for archives such as Nifty and Literotica to name but two...the only compensation we receive is happy emails from satisfied readers. I woke up the next morning and made myself some much needed coffee. I was lucky enough to be able to work from home these days, so I logged onto my laptop and attended to all the urgent work-related issues that I had to address. I had one email address for work purposes and of course a separate one for my erotic writings. I opened my liciousryan@gmail.com account...and there was five emails from various people scattered all over the globe...one from the States, one from Scotland, another from Brazil and two more from South Africa. All of them stated how much they enjoyed my story...and two in particular told me in no uncertain detail how hard they actually CAME when reading it. I had to choke back a laugh and appreciated the banter. This was what it was all about. I normally had myself down as receiving 10 emails per story as it being a success, so I was halfway there. Three more days passed and I had already started to work on Slender Beggar, as well as one of my previous Adult Youth stories called Doctor Daniel. Low and behold as it were, I was in the exact same coffee shop and using their Wi-Fi when the email came through. At that point and time I had already received nineteen emails concerning feedback for my story and I was slowly getting back some much needed confidence. See, this is what decent feedback does to you. You immediately want to get behind your laptop and get writing more and MORE! But this email...well, usually you don't receive feedback from...thirteen year olds. I groaned and looked nervously around me. The coffee shop was busy as hell. Not at all like the last time I had been here. Anyone walking past me with a sharp enough eye would be able to read what was on my screen if they really wanted to. I closed my laptop and logged into my email account via my phone. Sure as hell, the email was there as well. After ordering another coffee, and some caramel cheesecake, knowing full that my server won't bother me soon with a plate of food in front of me, I did just that. The moment she walked away after acing that delicious delicacy in front of me, I opened up that email I was daring to read. ** "Hey! I really wanted to send you a email saying I really liked the story you wrote on Nifty. It was hella cool. I always like reading your stories on there but my mom got me a phone like last week and she doesn't know I got a email account too now. I'm thirteen too! My dad also reads nifty but he doesn't know that I know and also read it. I really like when kids my age hook up with old guys. I dream about it. Like every night. Sorry for the TMI. Your friend Ando." ** I have written so many adult youth stories for Nifty I didn't even know how many...but I have never ever received an actual email from a person this young. Male or female. Kids this boys age was my weak spot. By far. I wanted tell him to send me a naked photo of him immediately and it literally took every ounce of my will power not to do so. Wait...this could be a trap. For all the power Nifty allowed its readers as well as its authors...the content on there and especially those in adult youth was more than enough to get you in real trouble with the law. What if this was some ploy to oust me as a paedophile? I shuddered. I didn't even wanna think about it. Not for one mere second. Nah...I usually reply to all my feedback givers...but nah, this was way too dangerous. I couldn't take that chance. But... What if... What if...in some crazy reality...this email was really sent from a very real thirteen year old boy. A boy...who openly admits that he likes older men. I was only 30, lets be fair...but to a thirteen year old, that was probably ancient. In the end, my head played a massive game of Russian roulette with my heart and it was my head who won. I simply couldn't take that chance. I simply typed "Thanks!" and pressed ENTER to send. Was there really thirteen year old bots out there who read Nifty? Could it be? Well, there was only one way to really find out. Looks like I had another chapter to write. ** THANKS FOR READING!! Like I said, a little out of my comfort zone to what I usually write...but I wanted to try this type of writing so much, lol. Who is this mysterious youngster who emailed me? Could they be real? Lemme know if there SHOULD...be more chapters! Xx liciousryan@gmail.com