Date: Fri, 2 Sep 2005 11:56:08 -0700 (PDT)
From: Rob Hoek <storyguy22@yahoo.com>
Subject: Seduction of Cody Barnes (1)

Another trip down fantasy lane, conjured wholly in the questionable mind of
storyguy22. To my personal knowledge, none of the events actually occurred,
nor do any of the characters actually exist, but damn, it sure sounds like
fun, to me! Enjoy, and all comments are welcome. Yea, ALL comments, I can
take it!

Storyguy22@yahoo.com

Seduction of Cody Barnes

The summer had gone quickly, and here I was again, arriving at school early
on the first day of my senior year of high school. I had gotten into the
habit of arriving early in order to score a spot in the always overloaded
student parking lot. The once small town I lived in had experienced a ton
of growth over the last few years, and the only high school was seriously
overcrowded with all of the new students. Parking spots, and lockers, were
always at a premium, and I had learned the value of arriving early last
year, which was the first year I had been licensed to drive. I had recently
turned seventeen, stood just short of six feet tall, and weighed in around
170. My hair is a light brown shade, and just long enough to motivate my
super-straight Dad to tell me to get it cut, almost daily. I'm lean of
build, slim and fit, though not especially buff. Baseball is my sport
interest, since I started Little League play at age eight. The game keeps
me fit, but doesn't require the strength, or stamina, of a lot of other
sports.

 I had been slow to transition through puberty, and had actually just
recently completed the cycle, resulting in my now deeper voice, and a much
improved patch of pubic hair. It still wasn't a lot, but better than the
near non-existent growth I had suffered with through my freshman through
junior years. Males in my family just are not overly endowed with body
hair, and it seemed that my particular apple had not fallen far from the
tree. Other than the recently sprouted pubes, my body was smooth, save for
some light growth under my arms, and the almost invisible peach fuzz on my
legs below the knee.

If my hair-producing hormones had been slightly behind the curve, it was
more than compensated for by the apparent over development of whatever
hormone it is that renders teen boys that perpetually horny condition. That
one, I had in spades. My little dick had learned the art of erection at
about age 10, and had rapidly developed a mind of it's own in that
regard. I could have my entire mental focus locked onto reading War and
Peace, in French, and spring a boner at almost any time. I had lost track
of the number of times the damn thing had pulled its little act at the
worst possible place, or time, leaving me embarrassed to the max, as I
endured the giggles, and finger pointing of people around me when Mr. Happy
decided to tent the hell out of whatever garment it found itself covered
with. By the way, that seems to be yet another male family trait that I had
been blessed with, that of an above average dick size. Growing up, I had,
at times, viewed my father, and various uncles, and cousins, in the nude,
and realized that all of us were similarly endowed. It was not until eighth
grade, and beyond, where school showers came into play, that I became aware
that most of the other boys fell a bit short of the family average in the
meat department. I don't mean to imply that mine is huge, or anything
porno-flick special, just above what appears to be the average. In repose,
I go just short of six inches, and at full mast, it extends to almost
eight. I know, because I was there, when I measured it. Several times, in
fact.

So, enough about me. The secondary motivation for my habit of arriving
early at school, particularly on the first day of a new term, was to avail
myself of the opportunity to check out the new crop of freshmen; more to
the point, the new crop of freshman boys. Yup, you guessed it, I'm
decidedly gay, and, find myself particularly attracted to that age group,
the thirteen to fifteen year olds. It's a kind of hold over, I guess, from
when I first started feeling sexual attraction to other boys at about age
twelve, and thirteen. I continued to grow, and age, beyond that time, but
my desires kind of stayed put, and continue to be most intense when aimed
at boys of that grouping. There is just something that really pushes my
buttons, sexually speaking, about a budding fourteen year old, with his
rapidly developing body, and hormones raging 24/7. Actually indulging in
sex with a boy of fourteen or fifteen is a truly incredible experience, and
I loved the challenge of identifying, and cutting from the herd, the
willing ones. More of them than you might expect were in that category,
horny as hell, and hungry to experience all of the feelings that they had
heard, and read, about. The internet had done wonders in educating these
young lads to the possibilities that existed to get their rocks off, and
many of them were astute enough to reach the correct conclusion that it was
far easier to entice someone like me to suck their rampant little hard-on,
than it was to convince some sweet young thing of the female variety. In
the post Clinton/Monica era, many seventh, and eight grade girls had been
convinced that a bit of friendly cock sucking was not actual sex, but by
high school, many had figured out that they had been duped into blowing
their male classmates, and refused further exploitation. Girls, go figure.

High on my list of personal favorites among the many school rules, and
procedures, was the requirement that all incoming freshman students undergo
first-day orientation, segregated by sex. This ritual for boy students took
place on the campus quad, a large, patio type area at the center of the
campus. The girls were relegated to the main gym, indoors, so as to
minimize distractions that might otherwise occur, and fragment the
student's attention to the orientation material being covered. This
arrangement, of course, provided the perfect forum for my early scouting of
likely prospects, so, after claiming my parking spot, I hustled on over to
the quad.

At the back end of the quad, there is an arch bridge that allows pedestrian
crossing over the bus driveway. It is elevated some twelve feet, or so, and
allows a perfect 360' view of the quad area. I walked to the center point
of the bridge, and began my visual evaluation of the fresh faced graduating
class of four years hence. My first blush pass provided five, or six,
likely targets, all of them, on the surface, meeting my initial
criteria. My preferences included a youthful look, perhaps even a touch on
the feminine side, though not overtly, that look that conveyed a lingering
boyishness, mixed with the signs of development. I like boys that are slim
of build, and somewhat small of stature, ones that exhibit some of the
deer-in-the-headlight look, as they survey their new surroundings. In
short, I look for some cute little thing that likely would relish the
assistance, and guidance, of a kind and considerate upper classman as he
navigates the minefield that is your typical freshman year of high school.

I made my second recon of the assembled boys, and mentally whittled the
field to two. My first choice appeared to possess virtually all of the
aforementioned attributes, with the added bonus that he was well above my
minimum standard in terms of plain old fashioned cuteness. He was adorable,
actually, sandy haired, and slim, with a peaches and cream complexion. He
smiled a lot, and I especially liked the cute little dimples that creased
his cheeks when he flashed the ready smile. He appeared nervous, which
might explain the frequent smiles, and that added to his point total, since
it had been my experience that slightly nervous boys usually were very
receptive to more experienced guidance. He was dressed in shorts, the
shiny, satin types worn by basketball players, long to the knee, and the
material outlined what appeared to be a very cute little butt. The
bagginess of the shorts precluded any hint of his package, but whatever the
dimension turned out to be would meet my criteria for that particular
aspect, since I actually had no minimum in that area. A long as he
possessed the basic, external plumbing, it really didn't matter to me,
small, or large. See how easy I can be? His shirt was one of those Polo,
pull over types, and the soft yellow color complimented his creamy
complexion, and golden summer tan. I'd say he was 5' 3", or 5' 4" tall, and
maybe 110, on a good day. Had he been in a different surrounding, and
alone, he could have been taken for twelve, or thirteen, so babyish cute
was his overall look, and demeanor. Yup, let's list this one as candidate
number one on Jason's list. Definitely.

My selection for first runner up to candidate one was also a drop-dead
cutie of the wholesome type. A tad taller, maybe 5'5, or 5' 6" and I'd say
120, or so. Stockier built, but still slight, his hair was a golden blonde,
bleached even lighter by a long summer of sun, and fun, evidenced further
by a tan equally as golden as number one. His lithe body was also clad in
shorts, the cargo variety, and they rode low on his slim hips, proudly
displaying about three inches of brightly colored boxers above the shorts
waist band. His shirt was a typical tee type, emblazoned with the logo of
some boy-band, which I took as a sign of encouragement. He appeared a bit
more comfortable with his situation than number one, and I idly wondered if
maybe I was seeing just a touch of attitude in his slightly bored look. Not
a problem, I decided, attitude can be fun, at times.

The dean of boys finally concluded his spiel, and directed the boys to form
single lines in front of a row of tables behind him, based on the first
letter of their last names. When reaching the front of the queue, each boy
would be given his school orientation package, his class schedule, and the
opportunity of access to a volunteer upper classman as a guidance
councilor, should he so desire. Most boys declined this opportunity in the
effort to appear macho, and mature enough to endure the high school
transition alone. Pity, that, as it would have saved me a lot of time, if
more of the little buggers would accept assistance. All I would need to do
then is volunteer, and await the arrival of the lambs. Oh well, I suppose
whoever said "the greater the challenge, the greater the glory," had a
point.

I stayed on the elevated bridge long enough to spot my boys in their
respective lines, then headed down to the quad to execute step two in
Jason's grand plan of boy-seduction. I went most of the way to the head of
the line that my boy number one stood in, then, worked my way toward him,
moving slowly, so that I would have the opportunity to read the goofy
stick-on name tag that the dean made all of the boys mark-up, and wear, to
orientation. It was totally dorky, and the boys felt dorky wearing them but
the dean got his rocks off exuding his authority that way. Whatever, it
played to my scheme, so I silently thanked him for his moronic insistence
of the ritual. As I approached my little charmer, I noted two significant
things, at once. First, he was even cuter close up, and second, his dorky
nametag read "Cody Barnes." How fucking cute is that, I thought, he
actually looks like a Cody! I put on my best good-guy smile, and walked
right up to him, extending my closed fist in the currently accepted
greeting fashion of today's youth. It's only a slightly less lame gesture
than the now passé hi-five, but is equally as lifted from major league
sports as was the hi-five. "Hey, Cody Barnes," I chirped brightly, "Jason
Saunders, welcome to fast times at Benson High!" He looked slightly
confused, and stared at my closed fist a moment, before lifting his own
small fist to bump mine. "Uh, hi." He squeaked. He lifted his eyes to meet
mine, and my heart tugged slightly, as I drank in the incredible blue shade
of his eyes. Better and better, I thought, he's fucking beautiful!

I gave him a short wink, and launched my spiel, saying, "Your mission, Cody
Barnes, should you decide to accept it, is to gratefully accept my reckless
volunteering to serve as your freshman guidance councilor." He painted a
small smile on his pretty face, apparently somewhat amused at my opening
gambit, and squeaked, "Really!" I nodded, filled with serious expression,
and went on, "Really, yup, totally, in some highly uncharacteristic moment
of the recent past, I, of all people, actually volunteered to sacrifice
precious moments of my life to assist a member of the current flock of
young scholars sort through the many mysteries associated with these
hallowed halls of higher learning, to wit, you!" He giggled sweetly, a
light shade of pink coloring his creamy cheeks, and squeaked, "You're
funny!"

I put on a look of shocked distress, and replied, "This, young Cody, is no
laughing matter!" He made an effort to get rid of the killer grin, but
failed, pretty much. Undaunted, I resumed, " I, an esteemed member of the
senior class, see it as my very personal responsibility to set Mr. Cody
Barnes solidly onto the proper path for maximum success over the next four
tumultuous years, as he attempts further education, and experience, in all
aspects of his otherwise sorry life!"  Cody giggled that sweet sound,
again, and repeated, "You're funny!" Once again looking stricken, I looked
squarely into those deep blue pools, and said, "Am I to understand, Cody
Barnes, that my willingness to sacrifice greatly on behalf of your very
future is being rejected out of hand, Sir?" He giggled again, and shook his
head in the negative, saying, in a very sexy, not-quite-fully-changed
voice, "No sir, uh, Jason, right, I'm not rejecting anything, I just really
think you're funny, like, a good funny!"

I placed my palm flat on my heart, and rolled my eyes heavenward, saying,
"Oh thank heavens, for a minute there, I was afraid my first ever effort at
sharing my vast knowledge, and skills, relevant to the successful
navigation of the Benson High minefields was not welcome by Mr. Cody
Barnes, incoming freshman!" He giggled again, and said, "Actually, Jason,
right this minute, after you got here, I mean, is like, the first time I
have been able to breathe since I left home this morning, all of this has
me all nervous, big time!" I hiked my frame to its full six feet, and
asked, "Am I to understand then, Cody Barnes, that you accept my most
gracious offer, and deep personal sacrifice, to serve as your personal
mentor during these treacherous days?" He grinned widely, and nodded,
squeaking, "Oh yea, for sure, I accept, totally, and, uh, thanks, OK?" I
relaxed, and smiled, then reached out to ruffle his silky soft hair, and
replied, "You are most welcome, young sir, and please be assured that I
shall deliver my very best efforts on behalf of your personal pleasures, in
every conceivable way!" That last part was totally the truth!

I stood on line with Cody as he made his way toward the table to receive
his orientation materials. As we chatted, I learned that he had just moved
to our fair town over the past summer, and had not yet made any real new
friends. He was just three weeks past his fourteenth birthday, lived in a
fairly new condo development with his Mom, and a nine year old sister. His
parents had divorced, which precluded the move here. He was passionate
about BMX bikes, and, fortunately, baseball. By the time we reached the
head of the line, he was much more relaxed than when I had first approached
him, and had actually become quite talkative. His point total had also
risen, as I learned that in addition to being drop-dead cute, my Cody was
also quick witted, and possessed a pleasing sense of humor. He actually
laughed at all of my attempts to amuse him, thereby garnering max points on
the Jason's Boys scale.

Reaching the table, he endured the gushy welcoming speech from a lady who
actually was one of the school councilors, and hefted the three or four
pounds of printed materials that she handed over. We walked to a nearby
bench, and sat, while I took the stack of paper from him, and sorted
through it, until I located his class schedule, a scaled down map of the
campus, and a bus assignment sheet. Handing the remaining stack of stuff
back to Cody, I said, "Just stow all that junk, and give it to your Mom
after school, this is all you need for the day." He zipped open his cute
backpack, a black number, with a silk screened image of a baseball, and the
logo of Major League Baseball. He stuffed the materials into the backpack,
then turned his attention to me, as I began going over the layout of the
campus on the small map. I held it propped against my crossed leg, and Cody
scooted in close beside me, peering intently at the document. His sweet
scent wafted through my nostrils, and I inhaled the incredible scent of
boy, which created a small, zinging reaction in my balls. This kid was a
keeper, I decided, fully deserving of my A-game! We plotted his classes on
the map, and I marked the location, number, and combination of my own
locker for him to use, since the ratio of lockers vs students precluded
freshmen being assigned a locker of their own. That gesture earned me
another dazzling smile, as he gushed about how cool it was for a senior to
share his personal locker with a lowly freshman. Cody had no clue as to the
number of personal things this senior planned to share with him.

We stood then, and took the walking tour of the classrooms he was assigned,
and my locker, then checked out the cafeteria, and dining patio. The first
bell rang, then, signaling five minutes to class start, and I put my arm
over Cody's slim shoulders, giving him a small hug. "Ok, Cody Barnes,
showtime, Bud!" I said, and he did that cute giggle thing again, then said,
"Uh, jeez, Jason, thanks, Dude, for everything." I smiled, and gave his
slim body another little squeeze, and replied, "Not a problem, Cody Barnes,
you are safely under the guidance of Jason Saunders, senior class, and all
is right with the world." He giggled again, and responded to my squeeze by
thrusting himself against my side. I pointed in the general direction of
the student parking lot, and said, "Meet me over there after last class,
and I shall deliver you safely home, look for the silver Mustang." He
looked up at me, eyes going wide, and squeaked, "Really...?" I chuckled, and
fluffed his soft hair, answering, "Yup, it really is...silver, I mean." He
giggled, and said, "Your so funny, Jason...but...cool...and, thanks!" I nodded
sagely, and extended my closed fist, seeking a goodbye greeting that
duplicated the hello, and said, "Take no prisoners, Cody Barnes, and I will
see you after the wars." He bumped his small fist against mine, smiled, and
heaved his backpack onto his shoulder, then walked off in the direction of
his first class. I stood there watching him depart, and decided that he
surely did possess a very cute little butt, indeed.

The day droned on, as all first days back at school seem to do, but the
welcome sound of the final bell eventually arrived. I swung by "our"
locker, and dumped off the half ton of books I had been issued, then,
headed for the parking lot. I had seen Cody only briefly at the lunch
break, and nearly slimed my skiveys as I watched him eat a banana. Fresh in
the hunt, like this, my imagination is capable of being immensely fertile,
and the banana symbolism was just too much! He did, I noticed, ingest the
fruit with great skill, and enthusiasm, which I hoped was representative of
things to come.

A few short minutes following my arrival at my ride, the fair young Cody
appeared on the horizon, trudging in my direction. He approached, the
killer smile firmly in place, and raised a small hand in greeting. I poked
at his delicate palm with my own, and said, "Well done, Cody Barnes, you
have obviously survived the rigors of day one, and can now be officially
declared a high school veteran!" He giggled his sweet music for me, and
shook his pretty head, causing the soft locks of his hair to sway across
his smooth forehead. "You crack me up, Jason, really!" he said, and I swung
the passenger door of the `Stang open, bent at the waist, and swiped my arm
in an ushering motion. "Your humble ride awaits, Mr. Freshman." He giggled
again, and slid that too-cute bubble butt onto the seat, allowing the baggy
legs of his shorts to ride up, and bare his creamy, hairless thighs. I felt
Mr. Happy jerk slightly in my own shorts, and unconsciously licked my
lips. Since I seem to be throwing all of the old clichés around today, I
thought, how about," dinner, is served! "

I trotted around the car, and slipped under the wheel, cranked the engine,
and pulled out. We exited the school grounds, and headed toward what serves
as our downtown area. Cody preened all around, checking out the interior of
the car, and proclaimed, "Sweet, Jason, this car rocks, big time!" Given
that the Mustang is rated second only to my penis erectus on the list of
items in which I take great personal pride, I humbly agreed with his
assessment. "So, Cody Barnes, do you need to get straight home, or could
your humble servant spring for a soda, and snack, first?" I asked him, and
he nodded rapidly, saying, "That would be awesome, for sure, I can just
call my Mom, and tell her what's up." With that, he lifted his cute butt
off the seat, and began digging in his shorts pockets for his cell phone,
which resulted in the satin material of his shorts being stretched over his
crotch. I looked quickly, and my mouth flooded with saliva, as I focused
briefly on the clearly defined outline of his boy nail pressed tightly
against the thin cloth. Hmm, lovely, I decided, just lovely. He made the
call, and met no resistance, so I tooled over to the local hangout, a
drive-in called, dunno why, "John's."

The place was a definite throw-back to another era, and had been the local
high school hang-out since at least my parent's tenure, if not longer. It
was very fifties, complete with car-hop service, although the days of the
wait person's roller skating to your car had given way to the wearing of
tennis shoes.  I rolled into a stall, and parked, Cody checking the place
out as if his head was mounted on ball bearings. "Cool!" He chirped, "This
place is, like, so Happy Days!" I chuckled, jabbed at his shoulder, and
said, "Happy Days, jeez, Dude, where did you get that?" He giggled,
blushing sweetly, and squeaked, "Re-runs, I actually like that show, it's
pretty funny." I nodded, then, turned my attention to the sweet lass that
had appeared at my window, inquiring sweetly as to our desires. I, of
course, desired the pert little lad seated to my immediate right, but he,
unfortunately, was not on the menu. Not quite yet, anyway!

We ate some wonderfully greasy French fries, liberally dipped in ketchup,
and swilled it all down with icy cold soda's, chatting about the day, and
school. I managed more subtle peeks into Cody's crotch, my nasty mind
visualizing the sweet boy-treasures that nestled there, and even managed a
few opportunities to gently pat his creamy smooth thigh as I gestured,
making some lame point, or other. The texture of his satin smooth skin
under my fingers brought life to Mr. Happy, and he began sending me urgent
signals, indicating a strong desire to make the acquaintance of the Little
Cody, that lingered so near. All in good time, I mentally informed him, all
in good time!

I delivered young Cody safely, and on time, to his condo complex, and we
parked near his building. He turned part way in his seat, bending one
smooth leg under him, and flashed me that dick-wrenching smile. Mr. Happy,
naturally, responded, signaling me, "See, I told you, I want that!" I
mentally agreed, totally, but hushed him, anyway, for the time
being. "Jeez, Jason!" He squeaked, "This has been, like, maybe my best day,
ever...really Dude, thanks for everything!" I used that gushy pronouncement
as an excuse to again affectionately grip a satin smooth thigh, perhaps
just a tad higher than necessary, and replied, "Actually, Cody Barnes, this
was my best ever first day of school, too, and that, is because you made it
special, so I, thank you!" He giggled sweetly, nodding, so that the errant
strands of silky soft hair brushed across his forehead, his cheeks going
gently pink. "Uh, so, will I see you tomorrow, then, or..?" He squeaked,
and again, I gave his thigh a gentle squeeze, saying, "Absolutely yes, my
mentor duties do not terminate in a single day, Sir, in fact, I was of the
hope that you would consent to my driving you both directions, tomorrow,
and beyond." His alluring blue eyes went wide, and he squealed, "No way,
Really..?" I grinned, chancing one more grip of the thigh, and replied,
"Yes, way..really...I, and old paint here, will arrive at this very spot at
7:30 in the A.M. to retrieve my personal charge." He giggled sweetly, and
squeaked, "Awesome!" On that rather profound declaration, our first day
ended, as Cody exited the Mustang, and walked toward his condo. I, of
course, lingered, again watching his cute little butt in action. I sighed,
thinking, Mr. Happy is, definitely, going to like that! With a rather
strong spasm, he quickly agreed.

(To Be Continued)
Storyguy22@yahoo.com