Date: Wed, 19 Aug 2009 08:52:07 -0700 (PDT) From: Beautiful Creamer Subject: Try Boys 6 Try Boys 6 By Beautiful Creamer One -- The Cubicle Life Nick Followell hated his boss, his job and his life -- in that order.. Which wasn't surprising, considering that he was a "cube drone" at Consolidated Snake Oil Industries. For five years, ever since college, Nick had spent 40 hours a week in soul-crushing servitude to his boss, Snidely McNasty, and the other so-called executives of a company that cared only about its stock price. At the first sign of decline, CSO used the one trick in its bag -- job cuts. Getting fired terrified Nick almost as much as not getting fired. He definitely needed food and shelter -- thus a job. But he dreaded the eight hours per day, five days per week, he spent in eight-by-eight-foot cubicle incarceration. There was nothing to get excited about at work. Nothing interesting or different. Except... One thing. His cubicle-next-door neighbor Brett Creamload was interesting. In a way. An odd way. No matter how many indignities or how much BS was heaped on Brett, the man's attitude was cheerful and his disposition as sunny as Ecuador at high noon. It was maddening for Nick to see that. Nick and Brett weren't friends or anything. Nick had no friends at work. And few outside of work. In fact, he didn't have much of anything outside of work, short of dreading his return to work. Nick hadn't even really had a good fuck since college. The hot girls didn't want anything to do with a cubicle-drone loser like Nick. And he wasn't willing to settle for less hotness. Though Nick and Brett weren't friends, Nick felt himself drawn to Brett. During the 30-second breaks they got between useless paperwork for meaningless company objectives, Nick would often visit Brett in his cubicle. Brett had made his cubicle quite homey, with a calendar of world beaches and several family pictures. At least Nick thought they were family pictures. Brett always had five or six framed, 4x6-inch head-shot photos of his nephews. At least Nick thought they were his nephews. Nick imagined that Brett must come from a big family to have so many nephews all around the same age -- Nick guessed 10 to 13. They were all very good-looking boys too -- cute was probably a more descriptive word, had Nick bothered to think about it. Was it family that kept Brett so happy? Unlikely, as we who have families can attest. One other odd thing about Brett. The man was a work dynamo all day, but then, around 3:15, he would sort of shut down. It wasn't as if it were a low blood sugar situation. Brett would get on the telephone and have some long, low-volume conversations. Three or four of them each afternoon by Nick's count. The kind of conversations a man has with his girlfriend. During the first few weeks, when they've just started fucking and she hasn't yet begun to nag, manipulate and emasculate him. Did Brett have those kind of girlfriends? And if so, why didn't he have any of their pictures out? One Thursday afternoon, Nick's curiosity consumed him and he finally asked Brett, "Why are you so effing cheerful all the time?" Brett gave Nick his million-watt smile and said, "Trust me, Nick. I hate this job as much as you do. Maybe more. But there are 168 hours in a week and they only have us for 40. Our real lives are what we do in the 76.2% of our lives, when we're not at Consolidated Snake Oil, that matters. I like to spend it with my friends." Nick absorbed that wise counsel. But then said, "I see your point. It makes sense. But I don't have friends good enough that they can make me forget about this place." Brett shook his head and said, "Well, then, let me introduce you to my friends. Come home with me after work today and I'll show you a better life." Nick was not a risk taker. But how much worse could life be? So he warily agreed. Two -- New Friendships Nick was wary and nervous about going home with Brett. He was sure that no one could be that happy all the time unless they were doing something that Nick would find distasteful. Like taking drugs. Or doing religious-cult things. That was it, he decided. Brett must be in some cult where they wore long, hooded robes and prayed to some rock or something. Nick wanted no part of that. Still. How much worse could rock worship be than what he was doing at the moment. He would go to Brett's house with him, but if he saw one hooded robe or big rock, he was out of there! Brett made his usual, late-afternoon phone calls and at 4:50, ten minutes before quitting time, he reported, "It's all set, Nick. Chrissie and Jackie will meet us at my apartment. They're eager to meet you." Sure, Nick thought. Rock-worshipping loves company, as the old saying goes. Nick and Brett left work and were at Brett's at 5:20. As Brett opened the door, he said, "The boys will be here in 10 minutes, Nick. "I'm going to change in my bedroom. You can change if you want. There's an extra set of things laid out on the bed in my second bedroom. I thought you might be coming over today." And he was gone. Into his bedroom. To put on that long, hooded robe like the bad guys wore in those Indiana Jones movies. Or so Nick thought. Nick was torn. Should he stay or should he go? More data needed. Nick began to snoop. Nice apartment. Clean. Well-furnished. Hmmm. Plenty of healthy food in the refrigerator. There were lots of framed pictures on bookshelves and such. Time to look at those. Nick picked up a framed, 5x7 picture on an end table. And nearly dropped it. It was horrible!!!! Disgusting!!!! And staggeringly interesting. It was a picture of a naked -- fully naked (!) -- 10-years-oldish boy. It wasn't an "art" pose. The boy had clearly just had an orgasm. His cream was splattered all over his flat tummy and drooling from his tiny cock onto his hairless balls. He was smiling at whoever was taking the picture. Could it have been Brett?!?!?!? Nick's ears were on fire. Adrenalin was blasting through his veins. Fight or flight? Neither yet. Maybe the pic was a joke. So he looked at another. Oh dear! Another framed 5x7 of a naked, 11-ish boy -- one of the lads from Brett's desk collection, Nick discerned. This one was [gasp] on all fours, looking back at the camera. His bottomhole (??!?!) was gaping open and drooling what could only be a man's thick, creamy load! The poor, underage boy had been cruelly violated, yet was smiling broadly at the photographer. Was it Brett who was taking such a filthy, disgusting picture? Oh no. Terror! What nest of vipers had Nick fallen into? He had to run away. Now. So why wasn't he doing just that? Before Nick's brain could order his legs to "do their stuff," two things happened. Brett emerged from his bedroom. And the doorbell rang. Nick was still holding the picture of the bum-fucked boy. And was staring dumbly at Brett. Who was wearing a robe. But not the variety Nick feared. It was a shortie-short, white terrycloth robe that barely covered his "man things." No shoes or socks. Brett saw the look of horror on Nick's face and said, "I was pretty sure you didn't know anything about the "Try Boys" movement. But no matter. Chrissie and Jackie are here.. Practice is always better than theory anyway." Brett strode to the door and threw it open to two squealing, hugging, jumping boys. Who overpowered Brett with their adoration. While sneaking looks at the man Brett had told them needed their loving attention. Brett settled the boys down -- though not until each had reached under the man's shortie bathrobe and given the man's cock a few nice strokes. Then Brett cleared his throat and said, "Chrissie, Jackie, this is Mr. Followell. Mr. Followell, this stunning blond is Chrissie and this ultra-cute redhead is Jackie." "Hi, Mr. Followell," the boys sing-songed, then giggled. Nick stood fast and vibrated with fear. Boy fucking??? Why, why, [sputter]... It was an abomination! Illegal! Wretchedly immoral! Though... They did seem awfully "willing" to be "violated." If violating them was indeed the plan. And Nick had no reason to think otherwise. My goodness they were cute, he thought. Almost like girls. Perhaps, Nick thought, even better. Then Nick banished that evil thought from his brain. It was a gay, pederastic thought. Evil. Still... Chrissie was, as Brett declared, a stunning blond with dark, huge, brown eyes. Long and curly locks. And the sweetest, prettiest face! And true to Brett's description, Jackie's red hair and "raccoon mask" of freckles headlined his youthful beauty. It was getting more difficult to banish evil thoughts as Nick considered how miserable he was and how happy Brett was. But for goodness sakes, the boys were maybe 11 years old -- barely. And Brett was fucking them. In their bottoms??!?!??!?! Those beautiful, plump, tight, young bottoms? And spunking all over those iconic faces!?!?!?!? Despite his purest intentions, Nick groaned softly. Which engendered giggles from the boys and deep blushes from Nick. Why couldn't he just leave? Because he wanted to see where this was all going. Brett seemed to have found the Road to Oz. Maybe if Nick just stepped on a yellow brick or two. Brett took charge. "Boys, Mr. Followell is new to doing our `favorite things.' He doesn't know about `Try Boys' and how it's made the world a better place. But as you can see, he's a nice man and he's very good looking. So let's help him, OK?" The two giggling boys moved easily into cockteasing mode. Giving shy looks at Nick. Fluttering their eyelids at the confused aroused man until Chrissie said, "Whatever you say, Mr. Creamload. You're always so nice to us." Jackie joined in. "You're right, Mr. Creamload. Mr. Followell is really handsome. Maybe we can relax him a little and you won't need to take him to the emergency room with hyperventilation." More giggling. Which embarrassed Nick. Who decided to man up a bit or be looked upon as a wimp who can't handle a challenge. The biggest challenge of his life. "I'm just fine, boys," Nick said. "This is just new to me. So I'll need a little help if I'm going to stay with you." Had Nick actually said that? Did he really want to "stay with" Brett and two impossibly young and delicious boys -- in a completely gay, completely immoral and illegal situation? Surprisingly, he did. And the "little help" he requested arrived forthwith. Brett, the clear master of ceremonies, made a sensible proposal. "I think the way to get things going here would be for one of the boys to present himself to you in a more familiar, less difficult mode. I anticipated that and left some `things' on my bed for just that. Chrissie, as the blond, you're the one most likely to trigger the right neurons in a new guy like Mr. Followell. Is that OK?" Chrissie agreed eagerly and ran off with Jackie to Brett's bedroom. Brett led a trembling Nick to the spare room and handed him a shortie bathrobe that matched Brett's. "You're doing great, Nick," Brett said. "The boys like you. Just take my lead and you'll have the night of your life. Followed by a great night whenever you want one.. Just strip naked and put this robe on. Quickly. If we leave those two alone for long they'll be sucking the boy's cream out of each other's cocks. Which would be less for us. So let's move it?" Nick hardly had a moment to contemplate what all that meant. Boys sucking each other off. Brett coveting their sperm. Assuming that Nick did too. So incongruous with everything in Nick's life thus far. But Nick stripped naked. Though it was embarrassing to do so in front of his co-worker. Who was eying him up like a prospective car buyer looks at a Ferrari. Nick quickly put the robe on and tied it at the waist. It was so short that he felt his testicles peeking out form under the hem. That was humiliating. But it got worse when Brett stepped up, opened Nick's robe and inspected Nick's cock. Manually. No man or boy had ever touched Nick's cock before. So Nick was mortified when he enjoyed the sensations. And the immediate stiffening attested to his arousal. "You've got a nice cock, Nick," Brett said. "It's a shame you've been wasting it on women. Seven inches, I'd say. About the same as mine, see?" And Brett opened his robe to show Nick his proud Johnson. Stiff and drippy. Nick was trembling at the raw gayness of it all. Then nearly fainted when Brett rubbed the very tip of his peelips against Nick's drooling cocktip. Mixing their goo." Involuntarily, Nick groaned. Then reddened all over. Brett looked as if he were eager to do something, but he broke off. "Let's go see our darlings," Brett said. The men retied their robes and went back to the living room. No boys yet. Brett knocked on his bedroom door and said, "Let's go, you little prickteasers or Mr. Followell and I are going to Thailand where the boys know how to please men." Giggling behind the door. Then it opened. And two magnificent sights appeared. First, red-haired Jackie stepped out. He was a spectacular sight, wearing only emerald-green panties so brief they barely covered his boy's things. His little penis had tented his "skimpies" and there was a delicious-looking wet spot where his peelips pressed against their silken prison. Nick gasped. Would this beautiful boy really submit completely to a man? Satisfy all of a man's disgusting needs? Allow a man to penetrate his mouth and [blush] bottom, squealing with delight and cumming in sharp heaves as his man inseminated him? It was a thrilling, though still off-limits, thought to Nick. Then he saw Chrissie. At least he thought it was Chrissie. Chrissie had transformed. Into what Brett would sometimes call a "starter kit" for men who were wavering about trying boys. Unlike Jackie, Chrissie was wearing no panties. Instead, he was wearing full feminine "sleep"wear. The kind of clothing that no one ever gets any sleep when they're wearing. Chrissie's long, hairless, boyish legs were lusciously sheathed in black, seamed, fully-fashioned, reinforced-heel-and-toe stockings, held up lovingly by a ruffled, black garter belt. Covering his chest and puffy nipples was a sheer, nearly translucent, black, babydoll nightie, whose hem rested on Chrissie's 18 sprouting pubic hairs. The piece de resistance of the ensemble was a filmy, long, black peignoir, open in front to expose all of the boy's sweet treasures. Chrissie smiled, but didn't giggle when he saw Mr. Followell's bug-eyed reaction. Giggling would have been emasculating and a sissyboy never emasculates his man. Chrissie loved wearing lingerie to tease a man. He knew that some men needed to "get over" the gay thing when they first started fucking boys. A little lingerie show before the first boy ravishment helped certain men sleep nights. Others dug into the boys just as they were -- boys. Eager to be loved. And fucked. Chrissie loved men. Teasing them any way he could. But he loved pleasing them even more. Chrissie "pleased" Mr. Creamload at least one night a week. And every two or three weekends. Mom arranged all his "dates," and the young beauty had plenty of hunky suitors. Chrissie used to think it was odd that his mother wanted her son to be bumfucked by hunky men nearly every day. Then he realized her motivation. She was keeping Chrissie out of the reach of his Daddy. Chrissie, like most sissyboys, was fatally attracted to his Daddy. Naturally, Daddy dreamed constantly of thrusting his fat cock into his gorgeous son. But Mom did everything she could do to keep them apart. Which is impossible, short of incarceration, when two people are in love. Daddy would take Chrissie shopping for school supplies, then they would park somewhere private and Chrissie would "suck and swallow" Daddy so well that a CSI team couldn't detect the aftermath. They would go shopping for school clothes and Daddy would "pork" Chrissie's exquisite bottom in the changing room. With Chrissie barely suppressing most of his orgasmic squeals. Chrissie smiled as he thought of Mom going to see Grandma -- all next week! His bottom tingled when he thought about sleeping with Daddy for seven nights!!! His pretty anus also tingled from the looks Mr. Followell was giving him. The kind of looks that said, "OK, I'm not completely over my reservations, but I'm going to fuck you anyway. Because I have to!" Chrissie held out his pretty hand to Mr. Followell. Brett looked on, pleased with his work, as Chrissie led Nick to the spare bedroom. Then he picked Jackie up with one strong motion and carried the giggling boy to the master bedroom for a masterful fuck. But let's peek in on Chrissie and Nick, shall we? Nick's brain knew that Chrissie was an 11-year-old boy in lingerie. But all command functions had been transferred to his stiff cock, which was saying, "babe in frillies -- wanting to be fucked -- red alert!" He took said "babe" into the bedroom and held "her" in his arms. Feeling Chrissie "give himself" to Nick. Just from the embrace, Nick could feel that. It was thrilling. And it called for a kiss. After Nick took a moment to absorb Chrissie's beautiful face into his memory. "This is so right," Nick thought as he looked into Chrissie's huge, brown eyes. And then he kissed Chrissie. The first time Nick had ever kissed a boy. Which deep down, Nick knew Chrissie was. It was the single, best kiss of Nick's life. It promised more, with more sincerity and less guile, than anything Nick had ever felt. Chrissie communicated his docility through his submissive posture as well as "appreciative breathing." Nick communicated his mastery through the "iron pipe" that was still covered by terrycloth and poking Chrissie in the belly button. Nick loved kissing Chrissie's mouth, but wanted to kiss the young lovely all over. Down his neck. All over each creamy shoulder. On both sides of the babydoll's spaghetti straps. Along his arms and hands. Which brought the man eye level with an incongruous sight. A stiff, pink popsy and an accompanying pink bag of "boy peanuts" dangling prettily amid white thighs framed by black stocking tops and a garter belt. The prettiest sight Nick had ever seen. The man was drawn to the boy's sissycock. Perfunctorily at first resisting his raging urges. Then... Against everything Nick had "learned" in his life, Nick surrendered to the most natural of urges. The man took the pretty boy's cock into his mouth and licked the knob all over with his hot, wet tongue. Chrissie gasped, then uttered a stunning string of squeaks, grunts and gasps. Until.. Oh dear. Nick wasn't ready for a boy to spunk into his mouth. Or all over his face. Chrissie knew that. But he couldn't help himself. The lingerie. The loving attention from a man who was facing up his nature for the first time. A handsome man. Who was a surprisingly good cocksucker. It was all so thrilling. And Nick was doing such wonderful things with his tongue on the boy's knoblet. Chrissie squealed. One microsecond later, he helplessly ejaculated a good six fluid ounces of Grade A boy's cream all over Nick's startled face. And into Nick's startled mouth. Nick recoiled for a picosecond. Reacting to the raw gayness of it all.. Then common sense took over. Nick captured the last two spurts of the boy's pleasure with his mouth. And swallowed greedily. When Chrissie's cum-shudders subsided, he knelt and leaned over to give his man a big, grateful, cummy kiss. And the ice was broken between them. Meanwhile, in the adjoining bedroom, Brett and Jackie were hotly engaged in a good, old-fashioned, belly-on-the-bedsheets bumfuck. Jackie loved being fucked. Particularly in that position. The man's full weight pinning the helpless boy down to the mattress as the rutting beast shoves his thick cock back and forth inside the "innocent" youth's ravaged anus. It was a completely submissive act on the boy's part. A total donation to the man's dominant ego. And they both loved it. Jackie loved the physical side of it all, of course. The burning ballbat afflicting his sensitive prostrate with each ruthless thrust. Making the sissyboy "empty his purse" at least twice during each fuck. But it was the surrender to a man's heaving lust that the boy liked most. And Brett knew that. About Jackie and sissyboys in general. Dominate them and adore them in equal measure, Brett knew was the formula for success with the sweetie boys. In bedroom two, Chrissie was maneuvering his "rookie boylover" into domination. Rather than suck Nick's cock, Chrissie wanted to be fucked. Which was the best next move for Nick too. But how? "Oh, Mr. Followell," Chrissie said, withdrawing his tongue from Nick's mouth after their long, cummy kiss, "that was awesome. I know I shouldn't ask this...and we just met and everything...but, if you lick my `pussy' for a while, it'll be nice and wet and you can [blush] TAKE me! I know you're a man who takes what he wants. But maybe you don't want me. [whimper]" Hooked, Nick immediately said, "Oh, Baby. I want you. I want to take you. Hard." But then Nick had to reorder his universe a little. By licking his "pussy," did Chrissie mean...? Oh. That. Doing that. Oh. He would have to lick "it" quite a bit to get it wet enough for "that," Nick reasoned. Oh. For a nanosecond, Nick considered saying "Ick," then just having the lingeried boy suck his cock. If he would do it after being "rebuffed..." The sure thing is almost always the right choice in sex. Time to man up and get licking. Manning up manfully, Nick said. "Take that peignoir off, Chrissie and get on your stomach. You're getting your pussy licked." Smiling and whimpering in sissy submission, Chrissie stripped off his babydoll too. Wearing just his stockings and garter belt (for easier access), Chrissie lay on his stomach. Exposing the eighth wonder of the world to the lust-infused Nick. Chrissie's perfect, pink, upside-down-heart-shaped, deliciously-plump bottom. And the wrinkled bottom hole that winked at Nick teasingly.. Oh. Just lick "it." Nick was apprehensive about the taste. And the smell. But both were a carnal delight. And the boy's happy squealing and squirming as he was eaten out made for a delightful half-hour. Nick was iron-pipe hard. Chrissie was sopping wet. The sheets were sopping wet where Chrissie had doused them during analingus. It was time. But what was the best angle? Chrissie knew. He slid two fat pillows under his tummy and wiggled his ass for a fucking. Nick accepted the gracious invitation. Sad to say, Nick had never fucked an asshole before. And he was surprised by the difference in "grip" from a pussy. It was tighter and sexier "back there," Nick thought. And then he stopped thinking. And just fucked. Hard. With long, urgent strokes. Feeling the rumblings in his testicles as Chrissie squeaked gratefully throughout his "defilement." This was the way fucking was supposed to be! Nick tried to hold back, but it was all so exciting and abysmally "dirty" that he "marked his territory" in six heaving thrusts. Inseminating his first boy in a shuddering, loud, tribute to Eros that convinced Nick of his destiny. He was tired of the nagging, the manipulation and the emasculation. He had tried boys and he would stick with boys. Forever. Three -- The day after the night before Brett Creamload was very pleased with himself at work the next day. He had transformed his co-worker from soul-crushed drone to a man of hope and promise. And he had made it possible for himself to "initiate" the Knoblicker twins. That very Friday evening as it turned out. Their mother, Mrs. Knoblicker, had inquired about Brett's "services" for her boys, and accepted his petition to be their first fucker, contingent on Brett's ability to produce a co-fucker. She wanted her boys FUCKED, not just sitting around all weekend watching. So two men were the minimum requirement. Brett, who had always "worked" alone to that point, had to find a partner. Thus, his initiation of his co-worker Nick Followell the previous evening. And what an initiation it had been. Like a duck to duck sauce. Nick had spunked the pretty Chrissie, then traded him for Jackie, whose bottom he flooded quite nicely as well -- without the lingerie "stimulant." Just to be sure he was truly a boyfucker, Nick had fucked a naked Chrissie a second time. Which was a pretty good evening, considering that the boys had to be home by nine on a school night. It was ten a.m. Friday morning and Brett hadn't shared his weekend plans with Nick yet. Though he had vaguely hinted about imminent carnal delights. Brett poked his head around Nick's cubicle and suggested, "I have to go to the men's room, how about you?" Nick Followell followed well. They were the only occupants of the men's room when Brett shared the good news. "Gorgeous, ten-year-old fraternal twins. Never been fucked. Mom wants them fucked by you and me all weekend. What do you say?" Nick's eyes filled with tears. He could barely express his joy. Brett found a way for Nick to do just that. Brett stepped into a stall and said, "Just thinking about us fucking those young lovelies has me in an awful state." And he dropped his pants. Revealing his boulder-solid seven inches. Having lost many inhibitions over the previous 17 hours, Nick stepped into the booth, got onto his knees and kissed, licked, sucked and stroked Brett's thick cock until Brett exploded into Nick's hungry mouth.. Whew! Brett zipped up and they returned to work. Which didn't seem nearly as bad as it had a day earlier. Promptly at 5 p.m., Brett and Nick headed to Brett's, where they put on their shortie bathrobes and awaited the Knoblicker angels. They were prompt as well, arriving with their mother at precisely 5:30. The mother, though Nick had sworn off women, was a stunner. Huge breasts. Beautiful face. Killer bod and legs. Though submissiveness wasn't one of her virtues. "The boys are in the car," she said. "Which one of you is Brett?" Brett raised his hand and smiled. Mrs. Knoblicker nodded. "Let's see what you've got. Off with those robes." Brett slid his off immediately. A beat later, Nick complied. "Hmmmm," she said, as she stepped toward Brett. "Is this as big as it gets?" "Yes, ma'am," Brett said. "Seven inches. As promised." Mrs. Knoblicker decided to see for herself. She took Brett's cock into her manicured hand and stroked it. It visibly stiffened, but didn't get bigger. Satisfied, the alpha woman did the same with Nick, whose "big boy" measured at seven-and-a-half inches. "You'll do," she said. "Here's the deal. I'm engaged to Bruno Gotbux, a very rich man with a very big -- ten inches long -- cock. The sex has been great for him and I won't start nagging, manipulating and emasculating him until we're married. I don't want a prenup, but I need some bargaining material to keep that from happening. The boys will do nicely. Like any sane man, Bruno will want to be fucking them every chance he gets. So I don't want them scared off and ruining everything by rejecting Bruno and his huge Johnson. I want them well fucked by some `lesser men' [ouch] who will make them love man-boy sex and want Bruno no matter how huge he is. Got it?" Brett and Nick got it. What a b-word! But she would be gone soon and Skip and Chip Knoblicker would be in their loving hands. Mrs. Knoblicker quickly stepped to the door and motioned for Skip and Chip. They slid through the door of Brett's condo. And the earth moved. For the boys because the men hadn't had time to pull their robes back on, thus were standing, naked, hairy and fully erect when the blushing, visibly frightened Skip and Chip appeared. For Brett and Nick because, if Chrissie and Jackie were "tens," Skip and Chip Knoblicker were "twelves!" Twelves in beauty alone. Their trembling innocence made them fifteens! They were clearly fraternal twins, since Skip had dark hair and darker eyes, while Chip was a blue-eyed blond. Their greatest difference hadn't been revealed yet. Skip and Chip were equally terrified to be spending a weekend with two naked men under their dommie Mommy's instructions to "do whatever those men tell you to do." Neither thought that would involve nudity. In fact, the boys had no clue about why they were there. Quickly, but with as much dignity as possible, the men slid their robes back on. Brett, of course, took the lead. "I'm Mr. Creamload, boys, and this is my best friend, Mr. Followell. We're going to have a weekend you'll remember fondly all your lives, once we get acquainted and you relax a bit. Can we get you anything? A Coke, perhaps? We'll have pizza later if you want." Skip and Chip were very wary. These had been naked in front of their mother. Just like they had glimpsed that Bruno guy was when he stayed overnight sometimes. They didn't know what was going on in Mom's bedroom those nights, but there were a lot of strange smells and noises. Nothing like that used to happen when Daddy lived with them. Before he left. Just a lot of nagging, manipulation and emasculation. But pizza sounded good. And the men seemed nice. As if they wanted something. Other men had been looking at the boys as if they wanted something. Since they were about eight years old. Lots of men. It was all very strange. Skip and Chip accepted the Coke offer in unison. Which made them giggle. A sweet sound. That made the men's fat cocks twitch.. The four of them sat at Brett's kitchen table, sipping Cokes. Talking about school and stuff. As it turned out, Brett knew several boys whom Skip and Chip knew. Which Skip and Chip found odd, since Mr. Creamload wasn't old enough to have kids their age. Eventually, they ran out of small talk. And the subject shifted to "things I like to do." Skip said he liked to play baseball. Chip said he enjoyed swimming. And then it was Brett's turn. "I like to have a pretty boy sit on my lap and hug him so he knows he's loved." That startled the boys. More so when Nick took his turn. "I like to make feel boys feel pretty and loved." Oh. Skip and Chip needed to feel loved. They got no love from their Mom. Bruno had potential, but he was scary. These men weren't scary. And the way they looked at the boys made them fell pretty. Things just seemed to happen after that. Things that Skip and Chip could have hardly imagined when they awoke that morning. Dark-haired Skip found his way to Brett's lap and Chip sat on Nick's. Oh, those hugs the men gave the affection-starved boys felt so good! Then a sweet kiss on each forehead. Which led to one mouth-to-mouth kiss. Another. And another. Chip's hand accidentally found Nick's bare thigh, just below the hem of his bathrobe. So hairy. So hot. The boyish hand stroked it gently. And there they were. Chip and Nick. Skip and Brett. Kissing and hugging. Making the boys feel loved. And pretty. Surprisingly, Nick made the first move. He pulled Chip's shirt off and kissed the boy's puffy nipples until the boy squirmed and squeaked. It was awesome! So intimate! So loving! So DIRTY!! Something that felt so good couldn't be wrong, could it? The age-old question. Chip glanced over at his twin brother Skip. Who had lost his pants and underpants as well as his shirt and was NAKED! And Skip's man had opened his bathrobe to reveal a very large, very stiff object. Sibling rivalry kicked in and Chip removed his own things. And was naked. With a very excited Nick. Nick smiled and shucked off his robe. Thus, everyone was NAKED! A recipe for a really fun weekend. The men interrupted their lovemaking to look at their prizes. And saw how they differed. Both were slim and gorgeous. With pretty, uncircumcised penises and hairless little "danglers." Skip, the brunet, had a man-sized cock, however. Nearly six inches long at the tender age of ten. While blond Chip's tickler was sissyboy-sized -- a mere 2.78 inches, with mini-peanuts to match. How delightful, the men thought. Brett was reasonably sure that in due time, perhaps right after the weekend, Skip would be fucking Chip, because Chip would be begging for it. But why imagine the future when the here and now is so delicious? The boys were all-you-can-eat buffets of love. Eager for affection their parents never gave them. Abandoning the ridiculous conventions that had restricted their natural lust. Being naked in front of Nick and Brett made the boys feel good. But they were still bathed in blushes as their "dates" carried them lovingly to separate, adjoining bedrooms. Skip's man, Mr. Creamload, laid him onto his back on the bed and, between nipple kisses, told him how beautiful he was. Skip glowed with lust and pride. Skip hadn't seen many boy cocks, mostly his brother's, but was proud of his penis size. So it felt really good to hear Mr. Creamload say, "You have a spectacular penis, babydoll. Have you ever made boy's cream with it?" Skip's confused look at the question made the evening perfect. The boy not only hadn't cum yet, he didn't know what cum was! Brett set out to demonstrate. "Boy's cream shoots out of a boy's penis when he's really happy. It feels really good to shoot it, but some boys can't make it until they're 11 or 12. May I try to see if your `cream factory' is working yet?" Skip nodded in wary assent. He would have agreed to pretty much anything at that point. But how does one become a "cream factory inspector?" Brett demonstrated. Brett kissed the very tip of Skip's pretty knob. Right on the pouting peelips. Then reveled in Skip's startled reaction. The boy simultaneously squealed in surprise and sat up straight. The man had kissed his penis! Right on the head! If Skip were to decide that he wanted to spend the weekend playing video games. While the men took turns so "things" with his brother. That would be the time to speak up. Skip decided to "squeak up" instead. He lay back down and decided that submission was the path to delight. Good choice! Brett applied his considerable cocksucking skills to Skip's virginal prick. And the boy was very appreciative. Brett kissed every square millimeter of Skip's burning pubic flesh. From the "southern region" of the boy's nearly hairless ball bag to the "far north" where Skip's 23 newborn pubic hairs were getting acquainted with their new neighbors. By the time Brett began to lick and suck young Mr. Knoblicker's knob, the boy was in quite a "state." Just to ensure that any infant sperm would make every effort to "leave home," Brett slid a naughty finger into Skip's "skippy" as he sucked the lad off. Where's that tiny prostate. Ah. There it is. [Rub] [Lick} [Rub] [Suck] Oh my! Mission control had just cleared Skip to leave the planet. He arched his back and, with no clue about what was happening with him, began to scream in startled, ecstatic agony. Something new to Skip, but primal to humans, was happening. Something amazing. Something wet! And creamy! Though tender in age, Skip spunked like a stallion. So much that he nearly drowned a surprised, though delighted, Brett. Things were also going well in the next bedroom, where a very naked, very loving Nick and Chip were kissing and fondling each other's private parts. Though new at such things, Nick had a somewhat innovative plan for introducing Chip to his future. In a word, babyoil. The love tool that makes one's entire body a slippery, pussy-like erogenous zone. Nick reluctantly broke off his kisses, retrieved the babyoil and laid Chip facedown on the bed. His beautiful boy-bottom pointing skyward. A sight for the world's greatest galleries. Pink. Plump. Untouched by man or boy. Yum! Nick uncapped the babyoil and began to slowly drizzle it along the back of Chip's neck. Chip twitched at that, but seemed to like it. He liked it more when Nick bisected Chip lengthwise with the slippery love potion, all along the angel's spine and pausing at the small crevice at the northern juncture of Chip's bottom cheeks. Chip moaned as he felt Nick drizzle babyoil into the separation of his pink cheeks and when a drool of oil splashed on the underside of his baby balls, Chip squeaked sissily. But he made no effort to get away. And no requests to stop. Nick took his time rubbing the warm, slick pleasure oil into Chip's tense back muscles. Which relaxed the boy a bit until it was time to distribute the oil around the anal region. That was the really fun part. Nick used his strong, manly hands to massage the oil into Chip's "cheeks." The boy was gasping and panting appreciatively at that loving attention, but the volume and urgency of love noises increased when Nick slid his hand between the cheeks -- into the boy's most intimate places. Rubbing. Gasping. Panting. Entry was inevitable. And pleasurable for man and boy. Nick slid an oiled finger into Chip's anus and the boy cried out in a mixture of wonder and desperation. The man was taking spectacular "liberties" with Chip. Doing things Chip never imagined he would allow anyone to do. Which had to be wrong. But felt so right. The man was saying something. What was it? "...and now I'm going to find your `boy's place' and show you the raw pleasure a boy gets when a man rubs it. There it is. Let me... There. Do you like that, Baby?" Like it? How could Chip tell? His spirit had left his body and was traveling in hyperspace. Heading toward Vulcan or Romulus or the Gamma Quadrant of the Galaxy. Chip didn't know such pleasure was possible. The man's rude finger (actually two, then three) was remaking Chip into a pleasure junkie. Which is never a bad thing. The galactic journey was a stunner, but the boy knew he was headed toward a universe-altering climax -- or beginning -- like a Big Bang. He could feel something building within him as the intensity of the anal intrusion increased. And then... BAM! He was in an agony of ecstasy. Squealing and squirting. The first boy's cream of his beautiful life. Sadly destined for the sheets. Puzzling to the boy. A delight to the man. Who was doing something behind Chip. Straddling his thighs. Holding one of Chip's hips in each of his strong hands. Lifting the boy, as if he were positioning him for something. What was...? Chip felt something at the gate to his anus. The man was putting his fingers back in for more boy's-place-rubbing. Which would be great. Chip just wanted to catch his breath... Wait. That wasn't a finger. It was too big! The pressure! The pain! Agggghhhhhhhhhh! The man was sticking his cock into Chip's bottom!!!!! It would never go in! Mr. Followell would kill Chip! Chip screamed. Nick pushed. And he was, as they say in Texas Hold'em, "All in." Chip whimpered. Loudly. The man was a beast! An animal! Thinking only of his own pleasure! Though... Now that it was all inside him and he'd been able to rest a bit, it didn't feel so bad. So Chip stopped whimpering. Which Nick took as a good sign to start fucking the little doll. So he did. Rubbing his cock against Chip's sissyboy prostate with each long stroke. Mmmmmm. Chip liked that. Nick verified that by reaching around to feel the boy's peeny, which had re-erected nicely. Man and boy enjoyed, really enjoyed, a long, slow, satisfying fuck. When Chip spunked for the second time in his pretty life, Nick's hand was there to catch the sweet juices. The man licked his hand clean as he moved rapidly toward his own climax, which blew the top of his head clean off -- from the eyebrows up. Was Nick imagining what he heard when that happened? It sounded like applause? Which it was. A cock-drooping Brett and fiercely-erect Skip were watching the final throes of Chip's first coitus. Nick was a little embarrassed until he reminded himself that he had thrown the old rulebook of life away 27 hours earlier. So he smiled at Brett and Skip as he pulled out, then leaned over to kiss the deliciously exhausted Chip's mouth. "I see the boys are enjoying their weekend so far," Brett said. "Skip had a special request, Nick. He wants to ask his brother something, so why don't you sit with me on this couch?" Nick Followell followed well yet again. And watched Skip whisper into Chip's ear, then light up with delight when Chip nodded consent. In a flash, Skip got behind Chip and mounted him, sticking his large, sissyboy cock into his twin's well-buttered bottom. As the men watched the boys rut ferociously, Brett reached over to skin Nick's cock to a fine erection. Nick returned the favor. And they were ready for more "boy trying" as soon as the brothers concluded their sweet business. A man won't be disappointed if he decides to "Try Boys." I welcome your comments at beautifulcreamer@yahoo.com. Other stories on nifty: "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 "Hotel Management" (gay adult-youth) June 2, 2008 "Dating Pretty Boys" (gay young friends) July 2, 2008 "Sissyboy Stepson" (gay adult-youth) July 30, 2008 "Sissyboy Showoff" (gay adult-youth) August 14, 2008 "Sissyboy Sleepover" (gay incest) August 26, 2008 "Cockteaser's Comeuppance" (gay adult-youth) September 5, 2008 "Schoolboy Pleasures" (gay adult-youth) October 23, 2008 "Home-Schooled Sissyboys" (gay incest) October 25, 2008 "Sissyboy-Daddy Reunion" (gay incest) November 24, 2008 "Sissyboy Shooting Lessons (gay adult youth) December 4, 2008 "Stepson Seduction" (gay incest) December 13, 2008 "The New Sissyboy" (gay incest) December 22, 2008 "Sissyboy Hangout" (gay incest) February 13, 2009 "The Little Prickpleaser" (gay incest) February 20, 2009 "Twelve" (gay incest) March 10, 2009 "Sissyboy Facts of Life" (gay incest) March 11. 2009 "Lord Upcock's Darlings" (gay adult-youth) March 12, 2009 "Sissyboy Spunk Party" (gay adult-youth) March 20, 2009 "Corporate Cockpleasers" (gay adult-youth) April 1, 2009 "Sissyboy Nephews" (gay incest) May 5, 2009 "Sissyboy Restitution" (gay adult-youth) May 9, 2009 "Sissyboy Pediatrics" (gay adult-youth) May 14, 2009 "Next-Door Sissyboy" (gay incest) May 19, 2009 "Sissyboy Sanctuary" (gay adult-youth) May 20, 2009 "Model Sissyboy" (gay adult-youth) June 10, 2009 "Sissyboy Prom Night" (gay incest) June 20, 2009 "Sissyboy Scenes" (gay adult-youth) August 7, 2009