Date: Mon, 5 May 2008 13:57:11 -0700 (PDT)
From: Beautiful Creamer <beautifulcreamer@yahoo.com>
Subject: Boarding-School Bedmates

			 Boarding-School Bedmates
			   By Beautiful Creamer

  One -- Mr. Sizemore

  Richard Sizemore awoke pleasantly.

  It was a beautiful, late August day.  The window of his bedroom was open
and a soft, summer breeze wafted in.

  But that wasn't why he awoke pleasantly.

  Jimmy Suckwell was licking, kissing, sucking and generally making love to
Sizemore's fat cock.

  Deliciously.

  With practiced skill.

  And great enthusiasm.

  Jimmy was a delight to the senses -- far beyond the warm moistness of his
eager mouth.

  Thirteen-year-old Jimmy was a boyish angel.  Slim and pink-skinned.  With
plump fleshiness where it suited him best -- in the buttocks.

  Jimmy's soft, brown hair was the only part of his head Sizemore could see
until Jimmy shifted his approach angle so that he could make eye contact
with Sizemore.

  Sizemore gasped with lust as Jimmy's beautiful, blue eyes met his.  Such
a pretty boy.  And such a fantastic piece of ass.

  Sizemore would miss Jimmy.

  Jimmy wasn't going anywhere.  Neither was Sizemore.  It was just that,
well, Sizemore would soon have other pretty boys to fuck.  Younger ones.

  You see, Sizemore was the assistant headmaster of Manley Academy, a
premier, academic, boarding institution for young men of good family.
Good, wealthy family.  With lots of male beauty genes.

  Jimmy was a second-year student at Manley Academy.  Or was about to be.
The new "first-years" would be reporting that very day, so Jimmy's
second-year status was imminent.  As was diminished attention from
Sizemore, the man who had made love to him 50 times or so during the past
academic year.

  Oh well.  That certainly didn't mean that the fun was over for Jimmy and
the other second-years.

  Along with eight other, carefully selected, soon-to-be second-years,
Jimmy had reported to school a week early, theoretically for a special
project.  Though the project was to keep the Manley Academy faculty members
sperm-depleted and deliriously happy the week before school restarted.

  On that beautiful Saturday morning, Jimmy's major concern was
transferring Sizemore's thick, creamy, first-of-the-day load from the man's
balls to the boy's stomach.

  Jimmy had Sizemore's foreskin well back and he was giving the fat, pink
mushroom a loving suck and all-over lick.

  Sizemore's cock was a wonder of nature.  And all his sweet boys knew it.

  It was thick and long, with a wriggly, blue vein running the length of
its right side.  And it leaked a lot of sticky stuff whenever it got stiff.
Which was pretty much always.

  It was difficult for Sizemore to imagine that exactly one year ago Jimmy
had never touched a cock, even his own.  And there Jimmy was that Saturday.
The veteran of 365 sex-drenched days.  The donor and recipient of gallons
of cum.  The cherished lover of dozens of boys and men.

  And a darned good little fellatrix.

  Jimmy licked and kissed and sucked the ultra-sensitive head of Sizemore's
cock until the educator could take no more.  With a loud, sexy grunt,
Sizemore released his creamy load into Jimmy's eager mouth.

  Jimmy greedily gobbled the tasty mixture of sperm and semen, swallowed
it, then, after a final suck and big wet kiss on the slick cockhead, smiled
at Sizemore.

  Jimmy's dazzling smile and the way he batted his eyes and flirted.  Oh
my!

  It was an antidote to erectile dysfunction if there ever was one.

  Sizemore smiled back at Jimmy and opened his arms wide.

  Jimmy instantly scooted up and threw his naked body against Sizemore's
equally naked torso.

  They kissed.  A deep, tonguey, loving kiss.  Sizemore's cock, after its
recent "spurt party" hung limply, drooling drops of goo.  But Jimmy had
full "morning wood" and he rubbed it rhythmically against Sizemore's
sagging whopper as they kissed.

  Sizemore loved kissing his boyish lovers.  He thought it added tenderness
and romance to lovemaking.  Plus, it was darned exciting and almost as
intimate as fucking.

  Jimmy was an exceptional kisser -- with excellent tonguage.  And the
feeling of Jimmy naked, exquisite body rubbing against Sizemore's was
reinvigorating Sizemore's cock much more quickly than a man his age
deserved.

  As they kissed, Sizemore ran his hands against Jimmy's bottomcheeks.
Soft and warm.  And so fuckable!

  Sizemore couldn't resist.  He slid and finger into Jimmy's bottomhole and
was delighted when Jimmy gasped with pleasure.  A second finger produced an
audible squeak from Jimmy, as well as his anal muscles gripping Sizemore's
loving, probing fingers.

  Inevitably, Sizemore added a third finger, making Jimmy squeal softly,
then angle his bottom to provide optimal access.

  Sizemore found Jimmy's prostate and rubbed it with great erotic effect.
Jimmy wriggled and grunted as they kissed and Sizemore fingered.

  Jimmy gasped and panted and then, suddenly, began ejaculating helplessly,
all over himself and Sizemore's flat belly.

  Six thick ropes of cum.

  Quite a mess.

  A happy mess.

  The lovers broke the kiss and looked into each other's eyes.

  Sizemore smiled at Jimmy.  "It seems you've spilled my breakfast,
Sweeteheart," he said.

  Jimmy batted those eyelashes again, giggled and said, "Just lie back,
sir.  I'll give you all you can eat."

  Sizemore stayed on his back as Jimmy arranged himself for "breakfast."

  Facing Sizemore's feet, Jimmy knelt across Sizemore, straddling the man's
chest.  Gently, he lowered his bottom onto Sizemore's face, giving the man
full oral access to the boy's most intimate place.

  Sizemore began his feast.  He kissed the inner folds of Jimmy's bottom
cheeks, then began tonguing and licking the tasty tunnel of the boy's sweet
anus.

  Jimmy squirmed and grunted as the man "ate him out."  Sizemore was a
master of that vital craft.  And a master of the lubrication and dilation
that precedes a proper boyfucking.

  Sizemore took his time, digging into and tonguing the boy's
far-from-virginal hole.

  Truly the breakfast of champions!

  When the boy's pants, grunts, squeals and gasps told Sizemore that the
boy could wait for Sizemore's cock no longer, the man stopped eating and
awaited a different sort of sensual feast.

  The boy knew the drill (and how to be drilled), so he 180-ed himself so
that he was astride Sizemore's hips, facing the man.  With practiced skill
and eager lust, the boy grasped the man's thick, stiff cock and placed it
at the entrance to his boyish "pussy."  Grunting erotically, the boy eased
himself down on the man's cock, impaling himself inch-by-inch -- much to
their mutual delight.

  When Jimmy was sitting on Sizemore's pubic hairs, he let out a contented
little sigh.  Then, eagerly, he began to move up and down on the lazy man's
cock.

  Though Sizemore hadn't moved his position once, all sorts of wonderful
things were happening to him.

  Jimmy gasped with lust as he leaned forward to lock his sweet lips with
Sizemore's.  They kissed and fucked.  Then kissed and fucked some more
until Jimmy cried out and spurted his thick, boyish cream all over
Sizemore's stomach.  Sizemore joined Jimmy in paradise, filling the boy's
innards with his manly juices.

  If only every day could start like that, eh?

  As it was, all of Sizemore's days started out pretty much like that day.

  Steamy, ball-draining sex with the prettiest, most-eager boys on the
planet.

  Only the knowledge that fresh delights awaited him allowed Sizemore to
disengage from Jimmy, kiss him tenderly, then lead him to the shower, where
they would fuck once more as they laved and loved each other.  Then they
dressed, kissed a bit more, and went off to meet the day's obligations.

  The first day at Manley Academy for the new first-years.


  Two -- Tommy and Jimmy

  Tommy Truelove whimpered softly as he kissed his Daddy goodbye on the
steps of the Administration Building of Manley Academy.

  He didn't WANT to go to some stuffy, old boarding school. Especially one
where there were no girls.

  Tommy liked girls.  In fact, girls were all twelve-year-old Tommy had
been thinking about lately.  Especially since he and his cousin Ellen
had...well, done stuff.

  Just that previous evening, Tommy and Ellen, who had been friends as well
as cousins their whole lives, had explored a bit at Tommy's "going-away"
party.

  Ellen, who was 14, thus much more mature and "developed" than Tommy, was
a delectable beauty.  When they were younger, Tommy had treated Ellen as he
would another boy.  Ellen was athletic and assertive and Tommy didn't
really think of her in "that way" until recently.  That previous night, at
Tommy's farewell party, actually.

  Ellen had worn a pretty dress, very nice make-up, tan, fully-fashioned,
reinforced-heel-and-toe stockings, and three-inch-spiked, stiletto heels
and Tommy felt something move in his pants.

  One thing led to another (actually Ellen did the leading since girls are
just as curious about "things in general" as boys).  Tommy found himself
with Ellen in his bedroom, on his bed.

  Ellen's panties had disappeared somehow, as had Tommy's pants and
underpants.  They were kissing and fondling each other's private parts and
soon enough, Tommy was spurting something that wasn't pee from his little
pricklet.

  The spurting made Tommy feel good -- better than he had ever felt -- but
it embarrassed him.  And scared him.

  He wanted to apologize to Ellen, but she was squealing softly as Tommy
rubbed that spot she had told him to rub.  Then her eyes sort of rolled
back, she squeaked and moaned, and she got very wet in her "pussy" area.

  Tommy was overcome with wonder and curiosity, but Ellen's mother's soft
call for them from the foot of the stairs, terrified them both into a hasty
restoration of their wounded decorum.

  Now Tommy was being ripped from the thing that he wanted most in life --
his cousin's pussy -- to go to some awful preppie school with some, he was
sure -- awful preppie boys who would tease him and make his life miserable,
just as the kids at his current school did.

  Those boys bullied and teased him, calling him queer and faggot.  Just
because he was probably the most beautiful boy in the Western Hemisphere.
His curly, ample, blond hair, magnificent facial features, especially his
huge, deep-blue eyes and impossibly long lashes.  His slim, perfect body
and creamy skin.

  But Tommy had the last laugh on those wankers.  He was obviously not gay.
His recent joust with Ellen proved that!

  And he would prove his non-gayness to any of the creeps at Manley Academy
as well.

  So there.

  After Daddy left Tommy, he joined a short line of boys.  His classmates,
apparently.  He expected to be bullied right from day one.  By rough boys.
Who would be there any minute.

  Soon.

  But no.

  His classmates, oddly enough, were all sweet and pretty.  Just like
Tommy.  Perhaps not as sweet and pretty as Tommy.  But almost.

  Well, then it must be the upperclass boys who would be bullies.  Oddly,
Manley was only a two-year school -- seventh and eighth grades.  The boys
then went on to the finest, most prestigious prep schools in the world.
And succeeded, if one were to believe the Manley Academy propaganda mill.

  Tommy expected a long, bureaucratic inprocessing ordeal.  Followed by his
first bullying.

  But no again.

  Each first-year boy spent only moments in the queue and each was greeted
by a nice, second-year boy, who seemed to be the boy's guide or something.
Each second-year was dressed in the Manley Academy uniform -- semi-tight,
grey short pants; white shirt; red-plaid tie; blue blazer with Manley
Academy crest; black, plain, tie shoes; short, black socks.  Each looked
pleasant and sweet.  Not a bully in the bunch.

  When Tommy reached the head of the line, a nice-looking, smiling,
30-something man said, "Hello, I'm Dr. Rammer.  I teach English here.
What's your name?"

  Well, Tommy thought, he seemed friendly enough.

  Tommy smiled back and said, "Tommy Truelove, sir."

  Something seemed very familiar about Dr. Rammer to Tommy.  Then he
remembered.  Tommy had last seen Dr. Rammer at the Testing Day back in
March.  Like all Manley Academy applicants, Tommy spent a day touring the
facility and meeting the teachers.  Oddly, for such a prestigious school,
there were no academic tests. Nor any discussions of studies.  He did
remember that he had received a very though physical from a man in a white
coat who introduced himself as Dr. Rammer.

  This very man.

  Tommy had assumed that Dr. Rammer was a medical doctor, not a PhD in
English.  Especially when Rammer had Tommy strip completely naked then give
him a thorough feel-up in the name or medical science.  Come to think of
it, Tommy had had a feeling of being watched during that "exam," or at
least filmed.

  And some of the questions!

  "How does this feel when I skin back your foreskin, Tommy?" Rammer had
asked.

  Tommy could only gasp.  Then blush when Rammer asked him, "Do you play
with yourself a lot, Tommy?  I'll bet that's fun for a pretty boy like you.
Do you like gladiator movies, Tommy?  Have you ever seen a naked man?"  All
the while, skinning and teasing Tommy's prickhead.

  If the "doctor" had kept that up, Tommy would have probably done that
thing he did with Ellen.  And that would have been AWFUL, because you're
only supposed to do that stuff with girls.  Right?

  Rammer took a lot of body measurements during the exam, even measuring
Tommy's stiffie.  "Three point eight inches, Tommy," the naughty man said.
"Very nice."

  Tommy was darned glad when that creepy "physical" was over.  Except for
the guilt he felt for all his "stiffness" and heavy breathing.

  Back to the present, Dr. Rammer looked at his computer and said, "Oh,
yes.  Here's your record."

  He then pushed a button and seconds later, a boy appeared.  Slightly
older than Tommy.  Smiling prettily.  That's right, prettily.  It was
Jimmy.

  Jimmy hugged Tommy and said, "I'm Jimmy Suckwell. Tommy.  Welcome.  We'll
be sharing a room.  And lots of things.  I'm so happy you're here."

  Well.  It wasn't hazing or bullying Tommy got thus far.  It was genuine
welcome.  From a boy nearly as beautiful as Tommy.

  Tommy hoped against hope that Jimmy wasn't gay or anything.  That would
be terrible.  Because Tommy was NOT gay!

  The hug made Tommy feel a bit uncomfortable.  As did Jimmy's grip on
Tommy's hand as they walked outside.  Looking around, though, he saw that
the other second-years were holding hands with their first-years, so he
guessed he had better play along to get along.

  As they walked toward the dormitory, Jimmy asked Tommy a lot about his
life and shared things about his own.

  They were both the only boy in their families.  Each had older sisters
(yuck).  They both liked the same bands and were both baseball fans,

  Things were looking much better and Tommy actually felt OK for a while.
Until he started thinking about Ellen and how he wouldn't have any sex
until he saw her again at Thanksgiving.

  As it turned out, that wasn't exactly true.

  Jimmy led Tommy into the dorm building and up to their second-floor room.
Jimmy described the building and the room as "traditional."  Tommy thought
it was old.

  Big, heavy, dark furniture.  A single window.  Two armoires and two
chests-of-drawers, rather than closets.

  But that wasn't the most startling feature.  There, in the center of the
largest wall, was a large, high, double bed.

  One bed.

  Tommy looked at Jimmy.  Then at the bed.  Then at Jimmy.

  "I thought we were in this room together."

  Jimmy smiled.  "We are."

  Tommy bit his lip in confusion.  "But there's only one bed," he groaned
softly.

  Still smiling, Jimmy said, "I know, Tommy.  That's part of the Manley
Academy tradition.  We all have to follow it.  It's no big deal.  When
Manley was founded, it was standard for children of the same sex to share a
bed.  Something about poor heating in the winter or something.  So we kept
that tradition here.  Once you realize there's nothing `gay' about it, it's
kind of nice."

  Tommy wasn't sure.  Holding hands.  Sharing a bed.  It all sounded pretty
gay.

  Still, it certainly beat the alternative of a Lord of the Flies thing
with bullies ruling.

  And Jimmy wouldn't try any gay tricks on Tommy.  Jimmy was too nice.

  Jimmy changed the subject.  He opened the armoire on the left and said,
"Look, Tommy.  Here are all your Manley Academy uniforms and stuff.  All
made from the measurements they took of you.  Your dresser is filled with
underwear and stuff too.  On warm weekends we wear shorts and Manley
Academy polos.  Let's change."

  Getting undressed in front of his new roommate was a bit daunting for
Tommy, though it didn't seem to bother Jimmy one bit.  Jimmy picked out an
outfit for Tommy -- those grey short shorts, blue, monogrammed polo, flip
flops and Manley Academy underwear, which consisted of a thin, white,
v-neck tshirt and white, thin, very brief, jockeys.

  Tommy tried not to look as his unashamed roommate puttered around the
room stark naked, seeing to things for Tommy.  Tommy stripped and dressed
hastily.  When they were both dressed, Jimmy took Tommy's hand and led him
to the dining hall for lunch.

  Tommy had to admit two things so far.  The food was good and everyone was
extremely nice.

  He could understand why the food was good -- Tommy's daddy had paid big
bucks for tuition et al.

  But why was everyone so nice?  Why was everyone so well-mannered and
un-teenage-boy-like?  And most of all, why was everyone so darned pretty?

  Tommy had seen maybe three or four boys in his life who were even in his
same "pretty league" as he.  Everyone at Manley was in the team picture for
"pretty boy of the year."

  Maybe Tommy should just count himself fortunate and move on, he thought.

  That afternoon, hand-in-hand, Jimmy and Tommy strode the campus, getting
acquainted with where things were.  Tommy thought it odd that there were no
athletic fields.  Or library.

  Hmmm.

  He was also curious about a six-story condo building just off campus that
Jimmy called "Smith Tower," but gave no explanation.

  Tommy noticed that all the other first- and second-year roommate pairings
were, like them, walking hand-in-hand.  When Tommy asked about that, Jimmy
said, "We have strong traditions here -- from the first day.  And, by the
way -- we don't use the term `roommates.'  We say `bedmates.'  Tradition."

  Bedmates?

  Tommy felt a slight shiver of dread.

  And another of inexplicable excitement.

  Fear and lust are a heady mix indeed.

  Tommy was tired from all that walking and was happy when dinner time
arrived. He and Jimmy loaded their trays with good food and sat at a table
with three other second-year-first-year sets of "bedmates."

  More niceness and good food.  Was that the way it would always be?

  After dinner, Jimmy took Tommy back to the dorm to change for a "welcome
night" gathering.  Jimmy explained that, by Manley Academy tradition, after
dinner, everyone, including the teachers, changed into what everyone there
called "evening clothes."  A white, Manley-Academy-logoed, knee-length,
cotton (flannel in winter) night shirt -- the kind men and boys wore in the
19th-Century.  No underwear, of course.  Nice, fluffy slippers.  A white,
knee-length, logoed, terrycloth robe.

  Putting evening wear on required more mutual nakedness, which didn't seem
to bother Jimmy a bit.  He even watched Tommy undress and dress and
casually complimented Tommy on his body.

  Which made Tommy just a bit uncomfortable.  Though his cock didn't seem
to mind.  It was stiff the whole time he undressed in Jimmy's presence and
it twitched at Jimmy's compliment.

  Hand-in-hand, Jimmy and Tommy walked to the gathering room, where fifty
pairs of second-years and their first-year bedmates sat on the floor to
listen to the welcoming speech from the new headmaster, Dr. Twitman.

  At the end of the previous term, Twitman's father, a Manley alum,
purchased the Academy from Dr. Shagger, who had run things for 25 years.
Dr. Twitman was not an alum, though as a 37-year-old "professional
student," he was an alum of practically everywhere else.  Twitman's father
decided that his youngest son needed to actually do something, not just
study something, so he bought the Academy for him.

  The elder Twitman also made sure that the assistant headmaster,
Mr. Sizemore, knew that he was really in charge and was responsible for
turning a profit.

  Twitman was nice, but clueless about the world.  He had a PhD in
17th-Century French literature and was working on his dissertation for a
second PhD in 19th-Century Russian literature.  Neither of which would help
you change a tire or balance a checkbook.

  Twitman was also quite oblivious to what really went on at Manley
Academy.  Which was just fine by him, since he had all that Dostoyevsky to
absorb.

  That night, as he stood before all those beautiful boys in their night
clothes, Twitman mouthed a few welcoming platitudes, then made off to
tackle some Tolstoy.

  Twitman was quite boring.  Thank goodness he only spoke for five minutes.
Sizemore then got up, welcomed everyone again, talked about the daily
schedule, told the first-years to listen to their second-years then
released them to their rooms.

  The boys stayed in the big room for a while, chatting and meeting each
other.  At about 8:30, Jimmy took Tommy's hand and said, "Let's go back to
the room.  We did a lot today and I'm feeling sleepy."

  Tommy went along willingly, though with a vague feeling of unease about
Jimmy's "orientation."  He comforted himself with the thought that Jimmy's
behavior was like everyone else's at Manley.

  And they couldn't all be gay.

  Right?

  Anyway, as they walked back to the room, Tommy asked Jimmy where they
went to play video games.  Jimmy smiled and said, "We don't have any of
that stuff here.  No Internet or cellphones either.  And no TV.  You can
have a radio or a CD player of you want, but almost no one does."

  When Jimmy saw Tommy's stunned look, he said, "It's OK, Tommy, really.
We don't have that stuff because of tradition.  Plus, no one minds.  We
have lots of fun here without that stuff.  Really."  And he squeezed
Tommy's hand.

  Gayness alerts bells were ringing in Tommy's brain, so he decided to set
the record straight.

  "I have a girlfriend," Tommy announced, as they entered their bedroom.

  Jimmy smiled.  "That's great!" he said.  "Tell me all about her."

  That was exactly the reaction that Tommy wanted in order to set his mind
at ease.  He smiled and told Jimmy all about his cousin Ellen and their
naughty encounter, only 24 hours earlier.

  Jimmy listened raptly as he removed his robe.  Tommy could even see
Jimmy's pecker tenting his nightshirt as Jimmy described Ellen's sweet body
and wet pussy.

  As they got into bed, wearing only their nightshirts, Tommy felt relieved
as to Jimmy's heterosexuality.

  Until "tradition" intervened again.

  Jimmy pulled up the cotton sheet over both boys.  The room was
comfortably air-conditioned, but it was too warm for a blanket.

  Then, Jimmy leaned over and turned off the lamp by his bed.

  "One more tradition for the day," Jimmy said.  And he leaned over, then
kissed Tommy full on the lips.  No tongue.  But definitely a real kiss.

  Jimmy gasped with shock and fear.  Or was it lust?

  Anyway, the kiss ended and Jimmy rolled over onto his side, facing away
from Tommy.

  Tommy lay on his back, chest heaving, prick stiff as iron.  Trembling.

  Within ten minutes, Tommy could tell by Jimmy's breathing that he was
asleep.  It took Tommy quite a bit longer.

  Tommy was despairing that he wouldn't see Ellen until Thanksgiving.
Unless he went AWOL from Manley Academy.  Which he may need to, if this
potential gayness evolved into something gayer.

  And then he was with Ellen.

  They were floating on a beautiful cloud.  Ellen was smiling at Tommy.
She was so beautiful.  And so sexy.  "Oh, Ellen," Tommy said.  "I love
you."

  That seemed to melt Ellen's heart.  Tommy, sensing her docility, said,
"Suck my cock, Ellen.  Please."

  Wonderfully, she did, taking Tommy's pink peeny into her beautiful mouth.
Tommy arched his back at the delightful sensations.  Tommy had never had
his cock sucked, so this was all new to him.  A part of him knew he was
dreaming, but it felt so real.  So real that he felt the stir in his balls
that meant he was close to cumming.  Then that "close-to-cumming" feeling
got stronger, just as it had when he and Ellen had been together.

  The point of no return was happily passed and Tommy cried out as he
joyfully pumped spurt after spurt of his boyish cream into Ellen's sweet
mouth.

  It was so good and so intense and so real that he woke up.

  And discovered two things.

  He was pumping two final dribbles of a huge orgasm into a warm, willing,
skilled mouth.

  The mouth did not belong to Ellen.

  Or any girl.

  When Tommy had the teeniest part of his wits about him, he squeaked out,
"What are you doing?"

  Jimmy stopped sucking his bedmate's cock and said, "I'm sucking your
cock, of course.  As you slept, you were begging out loud, asking your
cousin Ellen to suck your cock.  So I decided to help you out.  Did you
enjoy it?"

  Tommy blushed crimson.  He had enjoyed it.  A lot.  But all he said was,
"But...but...you're a boy."

  Jimmy smiled. He slowly skinned Tommy's foreskin a few times, then said.
"Yes, I am.  So are you.  I love to suck a cock and have mine sucked as
well.  I know you enjoyed it, because this pretty thing is getting all
stiff again.  It was so delicious.  I have to suck it again."

  And the lovely boy took Tommy's stiffening pricklet into his wet mouth
and tongued it deliciously.

  Tommy could have told Jimmy to stop.  Jimmy would have stopped.

  Tommy didn't want Jimmy to stop.

  The time for shame and guilt is after you cum. Not as your cock is being
sucked.

  Tommy had no basis for comparison, but his bedmate was a magnificent
cocksucker.  And he was using all his considerable skills to please his
pretty bedmate.

  Tommy lay on his back and enjoyed the sweet sensations.  Since he had
just creamed, it took a while for a repeat performance.  Time to marvel at
how good everything felt.  While postponing self-censure about the fun's
"unnatural" source.

  In for a penny, in for a pound, Tommy surprised himself by putting both
hands on Jimmy's head and forcing it up and down on his cock.

  The grand crisis arrived.  Tommy squealed.  Loudly.  Then pumped thick
globs of his young sweetness into Jimmy's mouth.

  As he had before, Jimmy eagerly swallowed every drop.  And was delighted
at his bedmate's response to Jimmy's naughty advances.

  Jimmy licked his lips, rose to his knees, and was further delighted when
Tommy held his arms wide, inviting Jimmy to a warm embrace.

  Jimmy eased himself into a face-to-face position atop Tommy.  Tommy
whimpered softly as his arms encircled Jimmy.  Parting his lips, Tommy
offered Jimmy an open-mouthed kiss.

  Jimmy accepted.

  The boys kissed.  Not the "traditional" goodnight kiss, Tommy had
"endured" three hours earlier.

  This was a real, tonguey kiss.

  Truth be told, Tommy was still pretending a little bit that Jimmy was
Ellen.  But he knew it was Jimmy's tongue licking his tonsils.

  Tommy's nightshirt was up to his belly button.  Jimmy's was still just
above his knees.

  Jimmy broke the kiss, which made Tommy whimper softly.  But it was only
to have Tommy raise his arms so that Jimmy could remove his nightshirt.
Then Jimmy removed his own nightshirt.  And resumed the previous position.

  Two gorgeous, naked boys.  One twelve; one thirteen.  Slim and pink, with
perfect, bubble butts.

  Kissing.

  Fondling.

  Tommy gasped and said, urgently, "You would never tell anyone about this,
ever, would you?  Promise!!"

  Jimmy kissed Tommy's lips, then said, "I promise.  This is between us."

  That eased Tommy's mind a bit.  Until he felt Jimmy's stiffie rubbing
against Tommy's thigh, then tummy.

  The thought entered Tommy's head: Jimmy had said that he liked having his
cock sucked as well.

  Should Tommy suck Jimmy's cock?

  He couldn't!

  Ick.

  Still, they were kissing.  Which Tommy had thought would be icky too.
And it was very nice.  Very nice.

  And what if, when Tommy didn't suck Jimmy's cock, Jimmy decided that he
wouldn't suck Tommy's cock ever again.

  That would be awful!

  Anyway, it was just fair for Tommy to suck Jimmy.

  Not gay.  Just fair.

  Before he lost his courage, Tommy rolled Jimmy onto his back, broke their
kiss and moved his head to Jimmy's pubic region.

  Poor Jimmy, Tommy thought.

  Jimmy's cock was so stiff and needy that the head was purple.  Still, it
was a pretty cock.  With a nice, sissyish bag of balls.  Not much hair
anywhere.  A nice, thick foreskin.

  So he should do the fair thing.

  He started off by touching Jimmy's cock.  The first one he had touched
beyond his own.  He giggled softly when a drop of clear fluid appeared atop
Jimmy's peehole.

  Should Tommy lick it?

  He wanted to, but...what if Jimmy didn't keep his promise?  What if Jimmy
told everyone at school, even the [gasp] teachers, that Tommy was a gay
little cocksucker?

  Then Tommy experienced a moment of true clarity.  The one many boys
experience before sucking their first cock.

  If Jimmy told anyone that Tommy did gay things, Jimmy would be admitting
his own gayness.  Which no boy ever would.  Right?  So it was safe.

  That being cleared up, Tommy moved closer to Jimmy's rampant, needy
boystick.

  Using all his senses, Tommy smelled his first cock.

  A bit musty.  Was it sweat or "manliness?"  Somehow, Tommy liked that
better than a "freshly-scrubbed, soap-and-water" smell.  It made it
"dirtier."  And with sex, dirtier is usually better.

  Tommy sighed deeply, then extended his tongue to lick the "pearl drop"
from Jimmy's peehole.

  Jimmy gasped with lust.  Which made Tommy's cock twitch.  Was he getting
hard again?  Impossible, wasn't it?

  Tommy took pity on Jimmy's "condition."

  He kissed the boy's cockhead, first softly, then with a bit more fervor.

  Then, crossing a big river, Tommy took Jimmy's four-inch cock into his
wet mouth.

  And Tommy didn't die.

  Or get arrested by the "gay police," storming through the bedroom door.

  In fact, it was quite nice.  Especially when Jimmy panted and gasped as
Tommy tongued and sucked all along the pink shaft.

  It was wonderful to make someone as happy as Tommy was making Jimmy.

  When his testicles allowed him, Jimmy even spoke.  "So good," the sweet
boy moaned.  "Just like that.  Ohhhh!"

  And, after only three or four minutes of Tommy's eager sucking, Jimmy
squealed and pumped out six thick globs of his boy's cream into Tommy's
mouth and throat.

  Tommy's eyes got really wide when that happened.  He was gagging from the
warm stream of cream.  But as it turned out, Tommy was a natural-born
cocksucker. He adjusted quickly and managed to swallow his loving bedmate's
sweet discharge.

  Jimmy was delighted that Tommy was such a fast learner.  Then was even
more delighted when Tommy, without removing his mouth, sucked Jimmy to a
second stand.  Ten minutes of rapidly improving sucking, tonguing and
licking later, Jimmy released his second hot load into Tommy's eager
throat.

  Fair was fair, Tommy figured.  Two cums for two cums.

  Jimmy considered himself fortunate indeed. He took Tommy back into his
naked arms and kissed and embraced him until the exhausted, entagled boys
fell asleep.

  Light streamed into the room at 6 a.m. that Sunday morning..

  Tommy awoke first.  His first reaction was one of horror.  He had been
sleeping in the embrace of a naked boy.  His mouth tasted of cum.  There
was dried cum among his 13 or 14 pubic hairs.

  It wasn't a dream!

  Tommy had done gay things!  Horrible things!

  Tears formed in his eyes.  And he was about to get out of bed and,
perhaps, jump out the window.

  But then Jimmy awoke.

  Jimmy knew just what was on Tommy's mind. He had felt the exact same
thing one year ago with his bedmate Mark.

  Ahh...Mark.  [Sigh]

  Jimmy held Tommy in his warm arms and said, "It's OK, Tommy.  We're just
boys experimenting.  Learning how to make love will make you more
attractive to Ellen.  I know it helped me with the girls this past summer."

  Which was the first of many whoppers Jimmy was willing to tell for
Tommy's own good.  Actually, Jimmy wasn't interested in girls yet.  Chances
were good that he would be.  Most Manley alums ended up primarily
heterosexual.  But during the summer, Jimmy had seduced four "straight" men
(including his own Daddy, of course) and six boys.  With little effort.
And great pleasure.

  Tommy didn't know any of that.  The thought that all his cocksucking was
somehow heterosexual perked him up.

  Of course.  They were just experimenting.  Practicing for girls.  Yeah.

  Jimmy sensed Tommy's relief.  Then he took advantage of it

  "Would you like to `practice' a little more this morning, Tommy?  We
don't have to be anywhere until breakfast, then church at 10."

  Tommy was very eager for more of those wonderful feelings he had
experienced the previous night.  Especially since he now knew it was all
OK.

  Jimmy and Tommy kissed steamily for several minutes, making their little
pickles all stiff and drippy.  Then Jimmy said, "Just to make sure
everything is fair, let's `practice' on each other at the same time."

  Jimmy 180ed his body on Tommy and took the younger boy's stiff penis into
his mouth.

  Tommy gasped with pleasure as Jimmy licked his cockhead.  Ohhh!

  At first Tommy didn't understand the agenda.  Until Jimmy's stiff, drippy
cock brushed Tommy's lips.

  Oh.

  Duh.

  Jimmy was the six and Tommy was the nine.  Or vice versa.

  Tommy accepted responsibility for Jimmy's pleasure, just as Jimmy was
meeting Tommy's needs.

  Tommy sucked and licked Jimmy's fine cock.  Which wasn't an easy task,
since the pangs of pleasure from the Jimmy's mouth kept diverting Tommy
from his welcome task.

  Tommy persevered, however.

  And so did Jimmy.

  Sucking.  Licking.

  Loving even.  On a strictly experimental, heterosexual-centric basis.

  It didn't take long to coax sperm out of two randy boys.

  The pretty sweethearts pumped their hot loads down each other's throats,
almost simultaneously, though Tommy spurted first.

  Tommy was enjoying "practice" more all the time.

  When Jimmy gave Tommy's balls a nice tongue bath, Tommy returned the
favor.

  Mmmm.  That was very nice.  So nice that the boys were soon in a "woodly"
condition.  Which led to an excellent rerun of their earlier, delicious,
oral-sex bout.

  After their second draining, the boys' chests were heaving.  That second
orgasm was a rip-snorter for both of them.

  Jimmy was quite pleased at his protégé.  The boy was so pretty and sexy
and so enthusiastic about Jimmy and what he could do for Tommy.  And it was
also clear that Tommy loved sex.

  Jimmy made a mental note to thank Mr. Sizemore properly for assigning
Tommy to be his bedmate.

  The boys kissed and fondled each other's bodies for a good hour before
the hunger in their stomachs overwhelmed the hunger in their testicles.

  Every bedroom at Manley Academy has its own bathroom.  Which made the
mutual shower the boys took a memorable experience.  Jimmy showed Tommy how
shampoo lather, applied to a boy's stiff cock by another boy, will engender
a spermy situation.  Or two.

  The boys finally made themselves presentable for the world outside their
lovenest.  They slid into their regulation underwear, shorts, polos and
flip-flops.

  Noticing that Jimmy hadn't made the bed (and its cummy sheets), Tommy
asked if they should tidy up.

  "The maids will clean up," Jimmy said.  "They even change the sheets --
daily or more often."

  Wow, Tommy thought.  Maids at a boarding school?  How much did Tommy's
Daddy pay to send him to this place?

  At breakfast, Tommy couldn't help watching the other boys and their
bedmates.  Were they suspicious of Jimmy and Tommy?

  Tommy didn't see any evidence of that.

  Tommy was kind of proud that he wasn't giving off any gay vibes.

  But then...and perhaps he was reading it all wrong...were some of the
other "bedmates" giving off those gay vibes?

  Were some of the boys more attentive to each other, more absorbed in each
other than they were the previous day?

  Maybe.  But Tommy couldn't tell...exactly.

  Anyway, how was that possible?  Boys couldn't turn gay overnight, could
they?

  OK, so maybe Tommy and Jimmy had done some things that could be construed
as, under certain conditions, maybe, a shade less than totally hetero.  But
there was a good reason for that -- practicing for Ellen.

  And all those other boys who were gazing into each other's eyes probably
had their own Ellens they were practicing for. So there was no gayness at
Manley Academy.

  The boys went to church, which was a nice moral anchor for them.  It was
a little difficult for Tommy to concentrate, since he was mostly thinking
about sucking Jimmy's cock.  And having his sucked as well.

  But there was to be none of that, that beautiful, late-summer afternoon.
The boys did school things, getting their books and school supplies as well
as their schedules.

  Soon enough it was dinner time.  In the dining hall, unless Tommy was
hallucinating, everyone in the place, including the teachers, who sat in
their own section, seemed frightfully aroused.

  The regulation, Manley Academy shorts were made of a material that draped
softly over a boy's crotch.  And displayed a boy's arousal quite clearly.

  Just about everyone in the dining room that evening was sporting an
obvious woodie.

  If Tommy had given that observation some serious thought, he would have
been perplexed and perhaps disturbed.

  But let's remember that he had a thick stiffie and a means to relieve it
sitting next to him at dinner.  So he wasn't thinking clearly.  Or anything
resembling clearly.

  Right after dinner, Jimmy and Tommy practically ran back to their
room...hand-in-hand, of course.  And they weren't the only ones making a
dash for the comfort of bed and bedmate.

  The horny little loverboys stripped off and kissed their way to the bed,
where they were soon naked and horizontal.

  Between kisses, Jimmy suggested that Ellen would probably want Tommy to
suck her titties.

  Tommy agreed, though he didn't catch the relevance.

  Seeing Tommy's dim look, Jimmy said, "Boys have titties. Nipples, at
least.  We could practice sucking nipples if you like."

  Tommy liked.  He was thinking about how grateful he was to Jimmy for
offering himself as a surrogate Ellen when, contrary to Tommy's plan, Jimmy
affixed his mouth to Tommy's right nipple.  And tongued it most expertly.

  Well.

  That was a surprise.

  An altogether pleasant surprise.

  Tommy discovered that the nipple is connected by a direct, erotic cord to
the testicles.

  Or at least that was what it felt like to Tommy.

  Tommy was on fire with lust as Jimmy worshipped Tommy's nipples.

  What was happening to Tommy?  Letting a boy suck his nipples like that,
quite deliciously, had to be wrong.  Didn't it?

  It felt way too good to be right and moral.

  And then, to make matters even "wronger," Jimmy broke off the kiss, got
out of bed, sissy ran over to his chest of drawers, extracted something
from the top drawer, and sissy ran back to bed.

  Tommy's chest was heaving as he contemplated a further dive into
depravity.  At least he hoped that would happen.

  Jimmy kissed Tommy on the lips, then said, "Girls like it when you finger
their pussies as you kiss their titties.  Boys don't have the same kind of
pussy as a girl, but we can practice anyway."

  Then Jimmy squeezed something from a tube onto three fingers of his right
hand.  Tommy whimpered with fear and lust as Jimmy resumed kissing Jimmy's
left nipple.

  Then the stakes went up.

  Tommy felt Jimmy's lubricated fingertip rub the entrance to his anus.
Tommy gasped.  Jimmy couldn't possibly want to...

  Ohhh.

  Jimmy inserted his middle finger into Tommy's bottomhole, entering only
to the depth of a nail.

  Tommy screamed and, to both their amazement, began issuing his boy's
cream all over his pink, flat belly.

  Apparently Tommy was sensitive in his "boyish pussy."  Jimmy made a note
of that.

  Tommy rejected his sperm for almost a minute, seeing the gates of eternal
joy, followed by the depths of shame and guilt.

  It was becoming clear to Tommy that he was doing gay things.  Even worse,
he was enjoying them.

  Before Tommy could summon a proper "guilt wallow," however, Jimmy
completed his anal penetration, first with one finger, then two, then all
three.

  Tommy squeaked and fussed a bit, but he didn't ask Jimmy to withdraw.  In
fact, he nearly fainted with erotic shock when Jimmy's practiced fingers
found Tommy's prostate and massaged it mercilessly.

  What was happening?

  Jimmy was driving poor Tommy half mad with lust as he kissed his nipples
as he fingered his prostate.

  Though he had just lost his creamy load, Tommy was feeling powerful
"stirrings" in his testicles.  When Jimmy moved his mouth from Tommy's
nipple to his pretty cockhead, Jimmy squealed and bucked his hips -- though
not vigorously enough to dislodge Jimmy's fingers or mouth.

  Tommy capitulated completely to Jimmy, achieving the sexual joy that only
true submission allows.  He threw his head back and surrendered to the best
orgasm one could expect from a human body, its symptoms being
indistinguishable from a major volcanic eruption.

  And the bedmates became truly one soul.

  Of course there was lots more to come. And cum.


  Three -- Dr. Twitman

  Mr. Sizemore knew he had to "involve" his dim-witted-about-the-
real-world, new boss in the goings-on at Manley Academy.

  The Academy's former headmaster, Dr. Shagger, was totally involved.
Immersed, even.  So much so that it shocked the faculty when the
52-year-old boylover took the money and ran.

  "I've bought an island in Southeast Asia, Sizemore," Shagger told his
longtime assistant.  "With 20 beautiful boys on staff to take care of all
my needs.  I know what you're thinking.  Only 20, when there are 100 at
Manley Academy?  Three things about that. First, I can rotate the boys
whenever I want, so I'll have lots of variety.  Second, I'll have no more
of all the administrative baloney with the school.  No filling our forms or
paying taxes.  No hiring and firing."

  Sizemore remembered thinking that Shagger had actually left all those
duties to Sizemore.

  "Third," Shagger continued, "no more of those awful `tweener' periods."

  Sizemore was with him on that point.  Not only were the boys away from
campus for nine weeks in the summer, two at Christmas, one for spring break
and a long weekend at Thanksgiving.  There was the horrible first week of
school that the faculty always dreaded.

  All those beautiful boys and no ball-emptying for the faculty.  By long
and proven custom, the faculty kept their hands and cocks off the boys for
the first week of school, so that the second-years could "teach the young
ones how to shoot."

  So the faculty -- ten very lucky men -- only had the boys to fuck for
38-and-a-half weeks a year.

  Rammer had all 52.

  Of course the Manley faculty wasn't celibate during those grim three
months and four days.  In the summer, Manley ran a free summer camp for
carefully-selected boys.  Enough said.  During the other four-and-a-half
weeks, they relied on local talent, assembled for them by their loyal
maintenance and foodservice female employees.  Each of whom made six
figures plus, with generous benefits, for her complete, silent discretion.

  The local boys were just enough to ease the hunger somewhat, but true
satisfaction was only found in the loving arms of a Manley boy.

  Which was a concept that Sizemore was about to communicate to Twitman.

  At 8 p.m. on Thursday of the first week of school, Sizemore had enlisted
the services of Ricky Lovecox, a second-year with seductive powers far
beyond those of mortal man.  Ricky's bedmate, first-year Derek, was waiting
for Sizemore in Sizemore's room.  Bottom lubed.  Eagerly awaiting his first
buggering by a man.

  So Sizemore was eager to get the show on the road.

  Standing outside Twitman's quarters' door, Sizemore reminded Ricky of the
plan, kissed him on the lips, thanked him again, and knocked.

  Twitman was in his quarters hoping that Sizemore had been able to take
care of that matter they had discussed earlier that day without bothering
the headmaster.  Twitman really wanted to start documenting the influence
of 17th-Century French literature on 19th-Century Russian literature -- for
his dissertation.

  Instead, he had that discipline thing to do.

  "One of the boys has been rebellious and disrespectful, Headmaster,"
Sizemore had said earlier that day.  "Tradition here is that the headmaster
spanks the boy.  I'll bring him by at 8 tonight."

  Well, Twitman didn't want to waste his precious academic time spanking
the little brats.  It was bad enough he had to give that speech on
Saturday. Somehow, he thought that his Daddy had made a big mistake buying
this school for him.

  Tradition.  Ha!

  He was even wearing that stupid nightshirt, robe and slippers they all
wore after supper.

  Oh well, Twitman thought as Sizemore knocked, precisely at 8 -- noblesse
oblige.

  Twitman opened his door to reveal his assistant headmaster and a
whimpering boy.

  Twitman's heart melted a bit. He didn't want to hurt that beautiful boy.
He was so small.  Only five foot two, perhaps.  And he looked so young.
With an amazingly cute face.  Beautiful eyes.  Which were filled with
tears.

  "This is the bad boy, Headmaster," Sizemore said.  "Twenty strokes,
barebottom, and a lecture should scare him straight.  Then you can send him
back to his room to consider his sins.  I'll leave you to it."

  And he left.  To go give beautiful Derek his first taste of stiff man
meat.

  Sizemore loved his job.

  Twitman didn't love his.

  The headmaster's suite had a large office and a connected bedroom and
bath.  Twitman sat in the office in a hardback chair and considered the
victim.  Maybe he could just give Ricky the lecture part.

  But Ricky had his own agenda.

  Sniffling and sobbing, Ricky removed his robe.  "I'm sorry, sir," he
said.  "I know I've been a bad boy.  I deserve punishment."

  Well.  There was a surprise, Twitman thought.  It was the first of many.

  Before Twitman could grasp the situation, Ricky had kicked off his
slippers and removed his nightshirt.

  And stood there naked.

  In front of his headmaster.

  With a five-inch, boyish stiffie pointing skyward.

  "Daddy always spanks me naked," the sobbing, trembling boy explained.

  A thin film of sweat formed on Twitman's upper lip.

  The naked boy made no effort to cover his privates.  He just rubbed his
sobbing eyes.  When Ricky made sure Twitman had had a good, long look at
his pink parts, the boy stepped forward and draped his beautiful body
across Twitman's lap.

  Poor Twitman.

  For one of the first times in his life, something other than an academic
degree had hardened his cock.

  He felt the boy's warm body across his thighs.  The boy's stiff cock
rubbed against the man's lap.

  The boy's bottom was pink, plump and perfect.

  It was a shame to spank it.  But even worse to make the poor lad
anticipate his punishment much longer.

  Twitman found himself wanting to caress that lovely bottom rather than
spank it.  But that would be gay!  And an abuse of authority.

  So spanking it was.

  Twitman raised his hand, then lowered it sharply onto Ricky's left bottom
cheek.

  Ricky screamed in real pain.  Sizemore owes me one, he thought.  His wits
still about him, the boy squirmed and whimpered, rubbing his hip against
Twitman's thick, stiff cock and his own cock against Twitman's thigh.

  Twitman spanked again.  He was beginning to feel the power of dominance
over a boy.  Sexual dominance.  And the boy was "unknowingly" rubbing
against Twitman's inexplicably stiff cock.

  Steam was coming from Twitman's nostrils as he administered his duties.
At swat number 15, the boy cried out and Twitman's lap became very wet.

  Had the boy urinated?

  No.  [Gasp] It was the "other," Twitman realized.

  The idea of which incited Twitman so much that at stroke 19, he himself
produced an "other."

  Which, of course, terrified and humiliated him.

  Twitman quickly administered the last spank, deciding to skip the
lecture, dismiss the boy and hope the boy hadn't noticed that the
headmaster's nightshirt and robe were soaked with his own sperm.  And the
boy's.

  But no.

  The sobbing boy stood up, rubbing his assaulted bottom and hopping over
to his robe and nightshirt.

  Twitman expected the boy to dress and leave immediately.  Instead, the
boy extracted a small jar from his robe pocket, walked back to Twitman,
handed the man the jar and draped himself across the man's lap again.

  "Daddy always puts cream on me after a spanking," the boy said.

  Silently cursing Ricky's Daddy, yet eager to follow the paternal example,
Twitman considered his options.

  Send the boy away. Rub soft, soothing cream on a soon-to-be-grateful,
beautiful boy's perfect bottom.

  Twitman chose wisely.

  Slowly, tenderly, the headmaster applied cool, soothing cream to the
boy's red bottom.  The boy purred happily.

  Twitman's cock twitched several times.  Especially when Ricky said, "Oh,
sir, that feels so good. Better than Daddy even."

  When Twitman had rubbed cream on every red pore, he cleared his throat
and said, "What else does your daddy do?"

  Got him, Ricky thought.  Then he sat up and said, "I sit on his lap and
he tells me he loves me."

  Twitman gasped.

  Ricky stood and faced the headmaster.  His cock had restiffened.  Twitman
noticed.

  He also noticed when the boy untied the sash on Twitman's robe and
shucked it over the man's shoulders.  Then the boy lifted the man's
nightshirt to his bellybutton and sat on his bare lap.

  "Daddy is always naked when he tells me he loves me, Dr. Twitman," the
boy said.

  Twitman gulped and pulled his nightshirt over his head.

  The naked man kissed the beautiful, naked boy sitting on his lap.

  Meekly, the boy took the man's stiff cock into his hand and caressed it.
The man reciprocated.

  The lovers tongued each other's mouths and stroked each other's cocks
until the inevitable happened.

  A very sweet, creamy inevitable.  Simultaneously.

  And that initiated Dr. Twitman into the spirit and tradition of the
school that he headed.


  Four -- Tommy, Jimmy and Eric

  Monday through Wednesday of the first week of school were quite pleasant
for Tommy.  His classes were all first-rate.  Intellectually stimulating.
To boys who appreciated the teacher's efforts.

  There were oddities, however.

  Though the boys paid attention during class, there was a lot of odd
behavior among Tommy's first-year classmates.

  Flirting, Tommy would call it.

  Boy to boy.

  Boys being super-nice to each other.  Especially nice to Tommy.

  Tommy began to suspect that he and Jimmy were not the only Manley
students draining each other's testicles several times each day.

  And Tommy began to suspect that some of the teachers were gay too. The
way they looked at boys.

  Like Tommy.

  His math teacher, Mr. Bulger, looked at Tommy as if he wanted to take his
clothes off and kiss him everywhere.

  Unless Tommy was imagining it.

  There was a particular boy in Tommy's classes, a fellow first-year, named
Eric, who, Tommy had to admit, was super cute.  For a boy.  Apparently Eric
felt the same way about Tommy.

  So confusing.

  That Thursday morning, soon after he awoke, Tommy sought counsel the only
place he could.  In the arms of Jimmy, his bedmate and lover.  Tommy asked,
"What's really going on with the boys here?"

  Jimmy interrupted their delicious, naked kissing to say, "It's
complicated, Honey."

  Tommy loved when Jimmy called him "Honey."  Was he falling in love with
Jimmy?  Would that make him gay?

  Jimmy kissed Tommy again then stroked the younger boy's cock as he said,
"It's different here, Tommy.  The thing is, at most boys' schools, there
are cliques and bullying and everyone claims to hate homosexuals and
homosexual acts.  Lots of boys do stuff with other boys, but they hide it
and feel guilty about it and beat each other up over it.  Here, everyone
gets along; no one bullies or does any of that testosterone nastiness.

  What I'm saying is, if here or anywhere you put randy, pretty young boys
together and assure them that no one will be arrested or scorned or beaten
up for `being nice' to other boys, almost every boy will go with his true
instincts, relax and enjoy the sex and love."

  Tommy thought, then said, "So what we're doing is OK?"

  Jimmy kissed him and said, "I think what we're doing is way better than
OK."

  Tommy, thinking he had insulted Jimmy, rushed to explain, but Jimmy only
giggled, took Tommy's cock into his mouth and sucked him to a lovely cum.

  After quite a bit more kissing, cocksucking and anal exploration with
loving fingers, the boys did a bit more pillowtalk.

  Jimmy said, "I'm falling in love with you, Tommy."

  Tommy's heart filled and he kissed Tommy deeply. "I love you too, Jimmy."

  When the kissyface tapered off, Jimmy changed the subject a bit.  "We'll
be bedmates, lovers and best friends all year, Tommy, but it's time to tell
you that here at Manley, we're never exclusive."

  Tommy's eyes filled with tears.  He and Jimmy wouldn't spend every
afternoon, evening and early morning making love -- just the two of them --
forever?

  But then Tommy's cock filled with hot blood.  Tommy would still spend a
lot of time in Jimmy's naked arms, but even more time with several of the
98 other young lovelies he had been surreptitiously drooling over the past
few days?

  Wow.

  Jimmy understood what had just flashed through Tommy's mind.  He had had
a similar moment one year ago, when his bedmate and lover Mark had
explained the facts of Manley Academy life.  Like Mark, Jimmy intended to
keep his promise to be Tommy's primary lover.

  But a little promiscuity is a really good thing too.

  After their very "hot," mutual shower, as they dressed for school, Jimmy
said, "Why don't you invite Eric back to our room for after-school fun?
I'll meet you at dinner, then we can spend the evening and night together.
I have something special planned for tonight."

  Tommy shuddered with lust -- both at the notion of "after-school fun"
with Eric and "something special" with Jimmy.  He agreed and off they went,
hand-in-hand.

  As they walked, Jimmy avoided looking at Tommy, because if he saw him,
looking beyond cute, in his Manley Academy uniform, he would have taken him
back to the room and fucked him all day.  And missing school was a big
no-no.  Plus, Tommy's first fucking was the "something special" Jimmy had
planned for that evening.  And he didn't want to rush it.

  Tommy wondered whether Eric would accept his invitation for after-school
kisses.  He wasn't excited at possible rejection.  But when he gathered his
courage and went up to Eric as they walked in the halls after math class,
all he had to say was, "Eric, could you, I mean, will you.."


  Eric's smile ignited the hallway.  "Oh, yes!" Eric squealed happily.
"I'll spend the afternoon with you.  If my heart doesn't burst with
excitement thinking about it all day.  Thank you! Thank you!"

  And then, against school rules that forbade such public displays, Eric
planted a quick kiss on Tommy's lips, then skipped off happily to his next
class.

  Well, Tommy thought, no rejection there.  Only three more hours and 15
minutes until Eric time.

  What a great school!

  As classes ended that day, Tommy excitedly greeted Eric.  The boys walked
hand-in-hand to the room Tommy shared with Jimmy, whose pretty bottom, at
that moment, was about to entertain Dr. Rammer's fat cock.

  Tommy opened the door to his room and noted with amused amazement how the
room had been perfectly cleaned and freshened, to include clean sheets.
Even when Tommy and Jimmy had spunked all over the sheets one afternoon,
the room and sheets were clean when they returned after supper.

  But enough about laundry.

  Eric couldn't get out of his cute, Manley Academy uniform quickly enough.
It took Eric about eight seconds, versus the twelve seconds it took
slowpoke Tommy.

  Tommy's pretty, super-randy classmate threw himself into Tommy's naked
arms.  Standing two feet inside the door, the boys French-kissed and rubbed
hard cocks.

  Tommy was enjoying "promiscuity" so far.

  Eric broke the kiss and the embrace, sissy-ran to the bed, flopped
himself onto his back and opened his arms for Tommy.

  Tommy eagerly accepted the carnal invitation and the boys were soon
writhing and kissing and rubbing naked parts to naked parts.

  When you had after-school activities like these, who needed a soccer
field?  Or a library?

  As we know, naked kissing and stiff-penis rubbing is lots of fun and
before long the pretty boys were gasping and spurting all over each other.

  Mmmm.

  Eric, the little cock hound, recovered from his creamy conclusion first.
The naughty boy positioned Tommy on his back, then attacked Tommy genitals
with his wet tongue.

  Eric licked up all of Tommy's creamy spendings, then began to bathe
Tommy's pretty, "pink purse" with his tongue.

   Tommy arched his back and met every naughty lick with a grunt of lust.
Despite his recent cummy crisis, Tommy regained his stiffness quickly.  And
when Eric, the sweet boy, took his afternoon lover's erectness between his
red lips, poor Tommy was overcome by another heaving orgasm.

  My my.

  Tommy didn't think of Jimmy again that entire afternoon.  Thus, he began
his conversion to the wise philosophy of "love the one you're with."  Of
course, Eric was quite lovable.

  Tommy sucked Eric's peeny as he fingered and tormented the pretty boy's
tender prostate, driving the boy half mad before the little dear screamed
out and spunked.

  After such tiring bouts, the boys embraced and kissed for a long while
until both of their "little men" resumed their vigor.

  On mutual agreement, the boys slid into a 69 position, each boy on his
right side.  Before taking Eric's sweet morsel into his mouth, Tommy
entered the angel's bottom with two naughty fingers.

  In lusty response, Eric upped the ante.

  He stuck his tongue into Tommy's bottomhole.

  Right in there.

  It took Tommy by complete surprise.  Amazement even.

  A boy with much to learn, Tommy didn't know people did such dirty things
to each other.

  Sticking your tongue into another's butt!!!

  Wasn't that gross?

  Not for the recipient.

  Tommy squealed in lustful surprise as his innovative lover dug for
treasure.  Tommy trembled with erotic fear.  The question flashed in his
brain -- would he have to do such things?  Such terrible, unnatural, dirty
things -- to other boys at Manley Academy?

  After a lovely, thrilling while, when Tommy screamed and pumped out his
third creamy load of the afternoon, he answered the question -- "I
certainly hope so," he thought.

  Eric didn't mind that Tommy hadn't even kissed his cock, even though the
boys were in a 69 clinch.

  The first tongue in one's bottom did disorient one somewhat.

  Eric remembered every time he'd had a tongue in his pretty bottom.  It
had always been the same sweet tongue -- his [blush] Daddy's!

  When Eric was young and he threw little boy hissy fits, his Daddy found
that he could soothe the boy into docility by pulling down the boy's pants
and licking his bottomhole.

  Both Daddy and son liked it so much that they began to lick each other
"down there" just for fun.  Other things followed as one would expect.
Intimate, wonderful things.  But that's a story for another day.

  Tommy found himself with an interesting choice.  Should he lick and suck
the pretty balls dangling two inches from his face.  Should he lick and
suck and kiss the stiffening cock also inches away, working for a creamy
reward.  Or should he do that "dirty thing" to Eric's pink/brown pucker the
way Eric had just done for him?

  Why not all three?

  Tommy tongue-bathed Eric's "pink purse" with evolving skill, making his
afternoon swain swoon.  Then he kissed and licked the tip of Eric's
hyper-excited cock until the boy was gasping Tommy's name.  Then, after a
suitable deep breath, Tommy tentatively licked Eric's "wrinkly pinky" until
Eric was half mad with lustful need.  When Tommy dug his tongue fully into
the sweet spot, he was happy about two things -- it didn't taste bad at
all.  A little bitter, but not nasty.  And Eric liked what Tommy was doing
so much that he spunked out four thick globs of boy's cream.

  Apparently, Tommy was good at sex.

  A very good thing to be good at, after all.

  Both boys were exhausted after all the carnal calisthenics.  They would
have napped in each other's arms, but it was almost supper time and meals
were mandatory at Manley Academy.  If they weren't, the reasoning went.,
the boys would choose sex over food so many times that they would starve.

  So Tommy and Eric kissed their way to the bathroom, where they cleaned
each other off with soapy washcloths amid promises of a rerun the next
afternoon.

  At supper that Thursday evening, Tommy was very happy to see Jimmy, who
Tommy was sure had had a miserable, sexless afternoon.  Except for the odd,
stiff way he was walking.  And how tenderly he sat down to eat.

  Dr. Rammer had given Jimmy all the cock he could stiffen that fine
afternoon -- three "hard lessons" worth.  Jimmy adored it, of course, but
he would be "pooping funny" for a few hours.

  Jimmy had cum four times himself and was a little worried that he
wouldn't be able to muster enough rigidity to deflower his beautiful
bedmate.  Then Tommy gave Jimmy and million-watt smile and Jimmy stiffened
on cue.

  Ah to be 13 again!

  After supper, Tommy held Jimmy's hand as they walked back to their room
for the "something special" Jimmy had promised.  Tommy hoped it wouldn't be
"butt-licking."  That was fun, but he had already done that with Eric.  He
wanted to try something truly new and special.

  Tommy was about to get his wish.

  The boys got to their room and stripped naked.  They knelt on their bed,
facing and kissing.  Rubbing stiffies.

  Mmmmm.  Jimmy was a great kisser.  And so was Tommy.

  Jimmy's cock was beginning to be distressed and he didn't want to cum, so
he suggested they lie down.

  Tommy, as always, was compliant.

  Lying there, between naked kisses, Jimmy said, "There's something else
you need to know about before you make Ellen a happy girl.  Do you know
what that is?"

  Tommy's first thought was that there were many things he needed to know,
not just one.  But he played along, shaking his head no.

  Jimmy looked into Tommy's gorgeous eyes and said, "Fucking."

  Tommy's eyes widened.  Fucking? he thought.  But that meant a pussy,
didn't it?  And there were none of those in sight.

  Jimmy loved Tommy's naiveté.  "Boys have a `pussy' too, Tommy.  Girls
have two -- front and back.  We just have the back.  But it's a really good
`pussy'"

  Uh oh.  Tommy didn't like the way this was going.  Jimmy wasn't thinking
of sticking his thing in Tommy's bottom, was he?

  "I'm going to fuck you, Tommy," Jimmy said.  "My cock in your bottomhole.
It'll hurt at first, but then you'll love it and want it all the time.
I've had dozens of cocks in my bottomhole, dozens of times each.  And it's
wonderful.  Oh, don't be afraid.  Don't cry!"

  It was true. Tommy's eyes had filled with tears.  And he was trembling.
He was overcome by a potent mixture of fear and lust -- the headiest
combination of all.

  Worse, if he let Jimmy fuck him, Tommy would be gay.  He just knew he
would.  Mom had taught him that he shouldn't hate gay people.  "We must
feel sorry for them," she had said.  Now his Mom would be feeling sorry for
him.

  Jimmy knew what Tommy feared and he addressed it.  "Don't worry about
being gay.  I'm not gay.  And you aren't either.  We're just boys
experimenting with each other before we start fucking girls and making
babies -- as nature intended."

  Dozens of cocks in Jimmy's bottom, dozens of times each?  That sounded at
least mildly gay to Tommy.  Still, the ability to rationalize is what
separates us from the apes.

  Tommy bit his lower lip and, trembling, whimpered out, "OK, but be
gentle."

  Jimmy's heart leapt.  He was going to fuck the prettiest first-year in
the history of Manley Academy.  Soon enough, that would be a very large
club.  But he was going to be the charter member.

  Jimmy moved three pillows to the center of the bed and asked Tommy to lie
over them, with his tummy on the pillows, his plump, pink bottom exposed
and vulnerable to Jimmy's wild lust.

  Tommy complied, a bit reluctantly.  Still considering refusal.

  Jimmy's cover story about all their sex being a training ground for
fucking girls at some future moment was wearing a bit thin.  For example,
what would Tommy learn from Jimmy's cock in his bottom that would help him
"pork" his pretty cousin Ellen's pussy?  Could it be that Jimmy wanted to
fuck Tommy merely because he wanted to fuck Tommy?

  Dots were starting to connect in Tommy's pretty head and he considered
telling Jimmy that he was leaving school that night.  Going off to do
something totally heterosexual -- like join the Foreign Legion.

  Did they still have a Foreign Legion?

  No matter.  He was through with all this gay business

  Then Jimmy stuck his tongue deeply into Tommy's perfect bottomhole.

  Tommy tried to tell Jimmy to stop doing that.  And that he was going to
leave school and become a roustabout with the circus or something.  But he
would have never been heard over all that loud groaning.

  Which Tommy realized was coming from himself.

  Fully aware of Tommy's thought processes, having experienced them a year
earlier himself, Jimmy performed some very effective and convincing,
tonguey foreplay.  Way better than Eric had done earlier that day.  Jimmy
was almost giving Tommy a tongue enema.

  Tommy surrendered to his instinctive lust.  Squeaking with delight when
Jimmy lubed up three loving fingers and used them to dilate Tommy's
impossibly tight, most-private place.  Rubbing his prostate, driving Tommy
half-mad with lustful anticipation.

  Pouting a bit when Jimmy withdrew his fingers to lube up his own enflamed
prick for the delicious deflowering.

  Tommy wiggled his bottom in lewd invitation.  Jimmy RSVPed.

  "It'll hurt a little at first, Sweetheart," Jimmy said.  "But I'll be
gentle and you'll love it."

  Well, Tommy hoped that Jimmy wouldn't be TOO gentle.  Though he didn't
like the sound of that "it'll hurt" stuff.  He blushed when Jimmy called
him "sweetheart," though he wondered briefly whether that was just a
"leg-spreader" or did Jimmy really mean it?

  Tommy braced himself for the emasculating attack on his 12-year-old
virginity.  Which was the wrong approach entirely.

  "Relax, Baby," Jimmy said.  Then he rubbed his dripping peehole against
Tommy's pretty pucker.  "It's so much easier for us both of you relax.  And
much more enjoyable."

  Tommy thought about a warm summer day when he was about seven.  He had
gone on a family picnic and had ridden a two-wheeler for the first time.
That soothing memory calmed Tommy enough so that Jimmy, sensing the
opportunity, slid the head of his smallish penis into the tightest quarters
it had ever occupied.

  Before Jimmy could properly revel in the deliciousness of his sweet
situation, Tommy cried out.

  It was kind of a squeal.

  Jimmy was concerned that Tommy was in pain.  He was even more concerned
that Tommy would reject the anal intruder, get dressed, leave Manley
Academy and hitchhike home.

  But no.

  The squeal was the last cry of his virginity.

  Good riddance!

  "Why did you stop? Tommy asked.

  And Jimmy settled in for a delightful evening.  One of 370 he had enjoyed
since he became a Manley boy.

  Tommy took to fucking like a duck to duck-fucking.

  When Jimmy pushed his whole "business" in, Tommy gasped.  The lovely doll
panted and squeaked as Jimmy pushed and pulled, tormenting Tommy's tender
prostate with each stroke.

  "Oh, Jimmy!" Tommy said, over and over.  As the sweet feelings gathered
in his gut. He was building to an incredible cum.  And his cock was
untouched.

  Tommy knew he was close.  He began to feel the "final warnings" in his
thighs.  And then...it wasn't happening!

  He was supposed to be cumming by then.  Hard.  But there was no climax.
Maybe it was that cock in his bottom.  Blocking things.  Keeping him
from...

  Wrong.

  The delay was over.  And so was Tommy's former life.

  The boy was hurled off Cum Cliff at 100 miles per hour.  His thighs
ignited.  His toes exploded.

  He orgasmed for almost a minute.  Which would have killed most primates.

  It just made Tommy hungry for more.

  Jimmy was having a good time himself.  Giving your partner a knee-buckler
is a major aphrodisiac.  When Tommy finished his glimpse of paradise, Jimmy
joined him.

  Despite his hard work entertaining Dr. Rammer earlier that afternoon,
Jimmy mustered six thick globs of boy's cream to drench Tommy's eager
bowels.

  Through his post-orgasmic haze, Tommy smiled at the sopping intrusion.

  Tommy felt as if he had just arrived where he needed to be in life.
Though he wasn't sure exactly where that was.

  When Tommy's anus involuntarily rejected Jimmy's limpie, the boys kissed
and petted and cooed for a good half hour.

  Then Jimmy got stiff.

  And Tommy asked, "Can we do that again, Jimmy?  Please?"

  Jimmy eagerly complied.  Three more times before morning.  And a nice
waker-upper as well.


  Five -- Sizemore and Twitman

  At 6:45 a.m. Friday morning, Mr. Sizemore removed his limp, drooling cock
from the bottomhole of lovely first-year Derek Buttkiss, kissed the boy
goodbye, dressed in his nighshirt, robe and slippers and set off for the
headmaster's quarters.

  If all went well, and he had little doubt that it would, Dr. Twitman
would pose no impediment to the future, proper functioning of Manley
Academy.

  No sane man with a palpitating testicle could resist the amorous wiles of
Ricky Lovecox.

  Let's just hope Twitman is sane, Sizemore thought.

  Twitman could even be a relief from Dr. Shagger, the previous headmaster,
Sizemore also thought.

  Shagger was such a tyrant and an alpha male, Sizemore thought.  And
clearly gay.

  Sizemore knew he wasn't gay.  He knew this because he liked girls.

  So there.

  He knew he liked girls because pretty girls, particularly younger girls,
made his cock very hard.

  Proof positive.

  And he could fuck girls too, if he ever got around to it.

  He just hadn't yet.

  With very good reason.

  Solid reasons.  Like, girls got pregnant.  And while you could maybe
explain how your sperm ended up on a 12-year-old boy's tonsils, no amount
of explaining would keep you out of jail when little 13-year-old Mary
delivered a baby with your DNA all over its body.

  Condoms would take care of such concerns, but what was the fun of that?
And what about that confusing stuff with the girls' monthlies?  No sex for
a week each month?  Please!

  And another thing.  Anal sex.  While a handsome, big-cocked guy like
Sizemore could probably remove quite a few panties, the darned girls would
all want his cock in their pussies, not their bottoms.  How selfish of
them!

  Bringing back the specter of pregnancy.

  And other things.  The feminine moods.  Ick.  The endless talking and
sharing feelings, when all a man wanted was to wet his penis.

  Forget it.

  Sizemore had chosen his sexual strategy.  So he wasn't gay, right?  He
could fuck girls any time he wanted.

  Dr. Shagger was gay.

  Sizemore knew that.

  Because, in addition to fucking practically every boy who ever passed
through the school, Shagger also insisted on a strange condition of
employment.  The nine faculty members had to submit to an annual night of
fucking from the headmaster.

  Which they all hated.  Because they weren't gay.

  Sizemore didn't hate it entirely.  Shagger was a surprisingly skilled and
giving lover.  And Sizemore learned a thing or too every year when Shagger
assaulted his bottom.

  Still, it was wrong.

  That was the past.  Twitman was the future.

  Sizemore reached the headmaster's door, drew a breath, and banged on the
door several times with his fist.

  "Headmaster!" he called out loudly.  "Headmaster!  A boy is missing!
Come to the door, headmaster!"

  Sizemore chuckled to himself as he heard some scuffling about and some
muffled conversation behind the door.  He was sure that Twitman was begging
young Lovecox to stay out of sight.

  After an embarrassing wait of three or four minutes, a disheveled,
robe-wearing Twitman appeared through a cracked-open door.

  "Oh, Headmaster," Sizemore said, breathlessly, "Ricky Lovecox, the boy I
brought to you for discipline last evening, never came back to his room
last night.  Perhaps he was so upset by the discipline that he ran off.
Did he say anything to you when he left?"

  Sizemore almost felt sorry for Twitman.  The poor man looked completely
terrified.  He had no possible answer.  And he envisioned a small jail cell
as his next home.

  As Twitman groped for a strategy, suddenly, the door flew open and a very
naked Ricky appeared.

  Which made poor, hapless Twitman almost faint.

  "Here I am," Mr. Sizemore, "I've been with Dr. Twitman all night."

  Sizemore looked at Ricky, then at a terrorized Twitman, then back to
Ricky.

  Sizemore looked intently at Ricky's cum-drenched face, his cum-drooling,
limp pricklet and his cum-soaked belly.  For dramatic effect, he gasped.
Then he said, "Turn around, please, Ricky."

  A smiling, giggling Ricky did so, revealing his gaping, cum-drooling
bottomhole.

  Poor Twitman was trembling violently when Sizemore made full eye contact
with the headmaster and said, "Well done, sir!  Well done.  This is a boy
who was a discipline problem and look at him now.  Eager to please.  Docile
and cooperative.  Ready to become a productive citizen.  You spanked him
then spunked him.  Which was exactly what young Lovecox needed.
Congratulations, sir.  We're all proud that you're our headmaster now."

  Huh?

  Sizemore continued, "This is a boy who will need your continued guidance.
And I have several others I can bring by or you can select them yourself.
In fact, you can keep young Lovecox for a morning's additional character
development if you wish.  Only the headmaster can keep a boy out of class.
Well, I'll leave you both to it.  Again, well done, sir.  And Ricky, you're
a lucky boy to study under such a leader.  Good morning to you both."

  And Sizemore left.

  Leaving a stunned Dr. Twitman and a giggling, still randy Ricky in his
wake.

  Ricky began to stroke Twitman's cock.  "Can we go back to bed, sir?" he
asked.  "I'm feeling the need for more character development."

  Thinking with his cock, as we all do, Twitman let himself be led back to
bed for further fucking.  Logical reflection could wait.


  Six -- Tommy. Jimmy and Sizemore

  On Friday afternoon. Tommy let Eric convince him that two hours of "naked
kissing" was the best use of his time.

  Eric was right.

  The boys were developing quite an affection for each other.  Especially
if affection could be measured by expended sperm and semen.  And exchanged
saliva.

  Tommy thought that Eric would be an honor student if all his exams were
"orals."  The boy knew how to use his mouth and tongue, as he demonstrated
by tongue-torturing Tommy's tender nipples for a blissful hour as he
skinned Tommy's peener to two copious cum blasts that sweet afternoon.

  Tommy was already thinking of his afternoon sessions with Eric as
foreplay for the fucking he hoped for from Jimmy that evening.

  Tommy adored being fucked.  And Jimmy, despite his meager equipment, was
a very skilled fucker.

  When Eric and Tommy said a kissy goodbye, Tommy was all for skipping
supper in favor of some immediate anal penetration by his bedmate.  But
Jimmy had told Tommy he would meet him in the dining hall.  Tommy
half-wondered where Jimmy had spent the last two afternoons.  But he didn't
want to act like a jealous little sissy, did he?  And Tommy hadn't actually
been building houses for the homeless the past two afternoons.

  Tommy was particularly excited because, the next three days being Labor
Day weekend, there would be no classes interrupting the sexual adventure he
found himself immersed in.

  Tommy lit up when he spotted Jimmy in the dining hall and blushed when
Jimmy gave him a brief, but sexy kiss right in public.  Did the other boys
know that Tommy and Jimmy were lovers?  Not to mention Tommy and Eric.  No
one seemed to notice or care.  All the boys seemed very interested in the
boys they were with.

  After supper, Tommy couldn't wait to be fucked.

  Back in their room, Jimmy and Tommy got naked and kissed for a good, long
while until Tommy was boiling with desire.

  Jimmy did a very naughty thing then. He got out a big bottle of baby oil
and slowly, sensuously rubbed it all over Tommy's chest, especially those
touchy nipples that Eric had orally adored.  Then Jimmy rubbed the oil over
Tommy's toes (ooooh) and feet, his calves and then, [gasp] his tender,
inner thighs.

  Tommy was desperate for relief, but Jimmy wouldn't touch Tommy's cock.
Instead, he flipped his lover onto his stomach and proceeded to rub oil on
Tommy's shoulders, back and then [gasp] his bottomcheeks!

  Poor Tommy.

  Finally, Jimmy invaded Tommy's bottomhole with three loving, well-oiled
fingers, which, after all that torment, made Tommy drench the sheets.

  Tommy was having a really good evening, which got even better when Jimmy
mounted him and stuck his cock right into Tommy's oily bottom.

  Jimmy groaned with animal lust.  So did Tommy.

  The boys coupled gloriously for five fantastic minutes, after which Jimmy
cried out and poured every drop of spare fluid in his body into Tommy's
bowels.

  At that exact moment, their bedroom door opened.  To admit a seemingly
horrified Mr. Sizemore, who said, "Boys, I heard a commotion in here.  Is
everyone all...  Oh my goodness!  What are you two doing?!?!?"

  A truly horrified Tommy screamed in fear.  The assistant headmaster had
caught Jimmy and him in an inexplicable position!  Tommy would be expelled
and sent home in disgrace.  He was sure of that.  What was unclear was
whether he would be required to get a "G" (for gay) branded into the middle
of his forehead and be required to ring a bell as he walked among polite
society.  His life was clearly over.

  Maybe not.

  Sizemore was dressed as the boys would have been, were they not naked.
Robe, slippers, nightshirt.  Somehow, a massive erection had escaped the
nightshirt and folds of the robe and was peeking its one, drippy eye out in
full view.  Tommy knew that Sizemore was excited by what he saw, not
repulsed.  A point in the boys' favor.

  My goodness, Tommy thought despite his fear.  What a cock!

  Jimmy took charge and said, "We couldn't help it, sir.  Tommy is the most
beautiful boy in the world and we're in love.  Just look at him, sir.
Wouldn't anyone want to fuck him?"

  Tommy thought that Jimmy's approach was "teasing a tiger with a stick."

  But Sizemore hesitated, then said, "I see your point, young Suckwell.
Young Truelove is a priceless beauty.  It's no wonder that you...oh, my,
have you already left your mess in him?"

  "Yes, sir.  Any boy, or man, would want to `leave his mess' in Tommy.
He's an angel, don't you think?"

  Sizemore seemed to be considering things, then he said, "Yes, I suppose I
wouldn't need to report this.  It seems you really couldn't resist an angel
of love like this, Suckwell.  Of course I'll need to investigate a bit
further -- personally."

  Tommy resumed breathing.  And wondered what Sizemore meant when he said,
"investigate a bit further"

  Then he found out.

  "Go ahead, sir," Jimmy said.  "You'll see.  Tommy, you'll let
Mr. Sizemore put his big, stiff cock into your bottom, won't you?"

Tommy gulped.  That cock!!!  That huge thing in his bottom?  He'd be split
in two -- his body shipped home in two coffins!

  Still, it was very exciting to think about giving himself to a man.  He'd
had those thoughts before.  His 6th Grade English teacher, Mr. Hardwood had
looked at Tommy "that way" sometimes and Tommy had had fleeting dreams of
submitting to the man's obvious lust.

  Tommy said, in his smallest voice, "OK, I guess."

  Which Sizemore interpreted as complete, rip-roaring full consent.

  Sizemore's most direct response would have been to strip off, mount the
prone boy, and slowly plunge his monster into the boy's bum, which had
already been stretched and "buttered" somewhat by a wet fuck that had ended
only moments before.

  But pleasure delayed is pleasure enhanced.

  Tommy bit his lip, thinking his disembowelment was imminent.  Or at least
he hoped so.  Thinking about a big cock "back there" was beginning to
excite, as well as terrify the lad.

  "No rush, my sweet boys," Sizemore said.  "And by the way Suckwell, don't
sell yourself short.  You and Truelove are both the most beautiful boys
we've ever had here.  No sane man could ever resist either of your lewd
advances.  And I'm quite sane."

  At that, the assistant headmaster stripped naked and sat in the room's
one good chair.  He looked really good naked.  Buff, toned body.  Huge cock
sticking flat against his stomach.  Tangerine-sized testicles in a
lunch-bag-sized scrotum.

  Tommy gulped and blushed.  Jimmy smiled.

  "Come sit with me my pretty darlings," Sizemore said.

  Jimmy complied eagerly, sitting his naked bottom on Sizemore's hairy,
right thigh.  Tommy rose from the bed, and, blushing furiously, walked
slowly to Sizemore and semi-reluctantly sat on the man's left thigh, facing
Jimmy.  Tommy was comforted by the fact that while he was nonplussed by
what was happening, Jimmy was treating it as if it were Sunday dinner with
the family.

  Tommy was further embarrassed that his stomach was smeared with his cummy
spendings and his bottom was leaking semen -- from Jimmy's recent fucking
-- all over the man's thigh.

  None of which seemed to bother Sizemore, who, to Tommy, looked as relaxed
as Jimmy.

  "Who would like to give me a kiss?" Sizemore asked.

  Tommy looked at Jimmy, who nodded to him.  "I would sir," Tommy said,
then surprised himself by pressing his perfect body against the man's naked
form and pouting his lips for the man's pleasure.

  Sizemore was thrilled.

  It was turning out to be easy to seduce young Truelove.  Just as it had
been to seduce almost all of the 500 or so boys Sizemore had fucked in his
life.  At that age, their hormones tell them to "just do it."  Whatever
"it" is.  And once fucked by a man, they crave manly cock in their pretty
bottoms.  Not for the rest of their lives.  But for quite some time.

  Sizemore loved his job and how many of us can say that?

  Back to that kiss.

  The first thing Tommy noticed as Sizemore moved in to kiss him was that a
man "in heat" smells different than a boy "in heat."

  A musky smell he didn't get from Jimmy or Eric.

  Then there was the stubble of a beard from Sizemore's five-o'clock
shadow.  Which tickled a little.

  Sizemore's tongue, which he had inserted in Tommy's mouth, was huge,
compared to Jimmy's or Eric's, which made Tommy wonder what such a tongue
would feel like in his bottom hole -- the thought of which completely
restored the stiffie Tommy had lost when he thought he was going to be sent
to Gayness Prison.

  Sizemore, it should be noted, was an excellent kisser.  Which had Tommy
gasping and panting despite his previous reservations.

  Tommy was disappointed when Sizemore broke the kiss and began a tongue
duel with Jimmy, Tommy's lap mate.

  Making good use of his time when Jimmy was having his tongue sucked,
Tommy played with the hairs on Sizemore's chest and sneaked looks at the
one-eyed beast that was looking at him from Sizemore's crotch.

  In for a penny, Tommy reached down with his soft hand and began to caress
Sizemore's prick.  A full, mature, alpha specimen if there ever was one.

  Sizemore stopped kissing Jimmy and said, "Oh, that's; very good,
Truelove, but if you're not careful, you'll incapacitate me for the main
event."

  Tommy stopped stroking and said, "Sir, I'm enjoying all this, I really
am.  But I'm afraid you'll kill me if you put that monster in my bottom"

  Sizemore smiled.  "I understand your reluctance.  Would it help if I
demonstrated with your bedmate that you'll be perfectly fine?"

  Oh no, Tommy thought.  He means to kill Jimmy first, then me.  "Jimmy,
don't," he blurted out. "It'll kill..."

  "I would love that, sir," Jimmy said.  "Just to show Tommy that it's all
right.  You shouldn't put your man's cream in me.  Save that for Tommy."

  Tommy couldn't believe what he just heard.  Jimmy was going to let
Sizemore murder him -- with a witness.  Tommy had seen CSI and knew that
the cops would be able to piece it all together and Sizemore would be
brought to justice -- for two murders, no less.  But that was little
comfort.

  Sizemore said, "Tommy, please be a dear and fetch the baby oil you two
were using in your recent amusements."

Tommy got off Sizemore's lap and did so.

  Then he watched in horrified amazement as Sizemore laid Jimmy on the bed,
kissing him licking his nipples as he oiled up Jimmy's bottom with three
dilating fingers.

  Sizemore then lay on his back and had Jimmy straddle him.  "Tommy, now
watch as your bedmate eases himself down onto my penis.  The anus is an
amazing muscle, capable of stretching to accept or reject large objects."

  Tommy trembled with fear for his bedmate and lover.  Jimmy held
Sizemore's rammer in his boyish hand, aimed it properly, then inched
himself down until the huge pole was fully embedded in the boy's hot
rectum.

  Tommy didn't believe it.  He got up and inspected the connection,
checking for mirrors or wires.

  As crazy as it seemed, Sizemore's cock was completely in Jimmy's tiny
asshole.

  And Jimmy was not only conscious, he seemed pleased.  Very pleased.

  "It feels wonderful, Tommy," Jimmy said.  "I'll get it out now so he can
fuck you fully.  You're so lucky."

  Tommy's fear was morphing into lust.  It could be done.  Tommy had just
witnessed it.  That huge man was going to put ten pounds of cock in a
one-pound bag.  And Tommy was going to cross a big river.  The Rubicon
even.

  Jimmy withdrew Sizemore's cock from his bottom, rose from the bed and
returned with the baby oil.  He rubbed it all over Tommy's anal opening,
then dilated Tommy's bottom with all four fingers of his right hand, which
felt great to Tommy.  He was wondering whether Jimmy was going to put his
whole hand in there when Sizemore said, "Slather some on my cock, Jimmy,
then I'll attend to your friend."

  Jimmy complied and Tommy's moment was at hand.

  Tommy imagined himself sitting down on Sizemore's cock, impaling himself
as Jimmy did.  But that was a demonstration.  Sizemore intended to make
love to Tommy, not merely fuck him.

  The assistant headmaster placed a pillow for Tommy's head, two more under
Tommy's hips and laid the angel on his back.

  "Pull your legs, up, Darling," the man said.  "Then put your calves on my
shoulders."

  Tommy complied.  But was once again worried.  In that position, with the
man on top of him. Tommy would be a helpless little sissyboy.  Powerless to
stop a dominant man from doing whatever disgusting thing the man desired.

  Wasn't it exciting?

  Jimmy watched and said encouraging things to Tommy as Sizemore mounted
his "prey" and placed the head of his cock against Tommy's tiny anus.
"Remember to breathe, Sweetie," the man said.  "You may feel a bit of
pressure and even some pain. But I'll pause and it will go away."

  Pain?  Tommy didn't sign up for pain.  Jimmy didn't have any...

  Ow!

  There was pain all right as Sizemore's peach-sized cockhead entered
paradise.

  Lots of pain.

  Tommy almost wanted to leave Manley Academy and go home.

  Almost.

  But then the pain went away and Sizemore had gotten a couple of inches of
shaft in.

  More pain, though not as bad.

  Pain, gain.  Three more times until, "It's all in, Tommy.  I'll give you
a moment to get used to it and then I'll make love to you."

  Thank goodness!!  Tommy couldn't have endured one more pore of cockflesh
inside him.

  He checked himself for vital signs.  OK.  No bright lights beckoning him
to the afterlife.

  He had taken the biggest cock in the state into his butt and lived to
tell the tale.

  He was proud of himself.  Though he was feeling a teensy bit gay.  That
went away too as Sizemore began to fuck him.  The lovers kissed tonguily as
Sizemore rubbed against Tommy's tortured prostate.  Oh the sweet agony he
endured.

  Sorry, Jimmy, Tommy thought.  You're a good fucker, but this guy is in
his own league.

  Tommy lost his gooies in an orgasm so strong that graves opened in
several local cemeteries.  Then again ten ecstatic, agonizing minutes
later, though there was a only a watery dribble, not thick cream.  Soon
after, Sizemore grunted manfully and drenched Tommy's bowels so copiously
that his bottom drooled for six hours.

  And that wasn't all.

  After suitable, post-orgasmic kissing and cooing with Tommy, Sizemore had
Jimmy suck his poop-stained cock to another stand, then he fucked Jimmy
most gloriously.

  And that wasn't all.

  Over the next three hours, Sizemore fucked both Tommy and Jimmy a second
time.  Then they called Guinness to ensure they would be in the 2009
edition.

  A good time was definitely had by all.


  Seven -- Alternative Education

  Not everyone at Manley Academy was engaged in the despicable practice of
anally violating barely pubescent boys.

  Dr, Frederick Fraumacher, Manley's German instructor, was engaged in
dressing up barely pubescent boys in stockings, garter belts, panties,
babydoll nighties and other feminities, then engaging in despicable, anal
violation.

  Fraumacher was the school's resident "admirer" of transsexual boys.  He
loved "feminizing" many of Manley Academy's pretty boys, making them into
what he called "pantyboys," then fucking their pantied bottoms off.

  All with their full consent, of course.  And their utter, intense
pleasure.

  It was amazing to Fraumacher how almost any boy that age was at least
willing to put on, at a minimum, some fully-fashioned,
reinforced-heel-and-toe stockings; a garter belt and some lipstick, admire
his femmy self in a mirror for a while, then get onto his back for a full
night of feminine submission to a man's every disgusting need.

  And they all enjoyed it, to some degree.

  Some definitely more than others.

  Like Susan, last year's "Pantyboy Princess" among the first-years.  Such
a feminine angel!  And back from her summer looking radiant and lovely --
the very belle of the second-years!

  That Friday evening, Fraumacher would be "entertaining" Susan for the
first time since school restarted.  Though the man and the pantyboy had
been making goo-goo eyes at each other all week.

  As a delightful bonus, Susan would be bringing her bedmate Denise, whose
Daddy reported during the screening interviews that she had been caught
several times wearing her Mama's and sisters' most intimate "dainties."
Worse, her father said, the "boy" had made several stains in the lingerie,
claiming that the feminine angel's inclination was irresistible and moist
excitement inevitable.

  The details of Denise's Daddy's report made Fraumacher suspect that the
father was quite content to be sending an occasionally crossdressing boy to
Manley in order to get back a thorough pantyboy, perhaps for the man's
intimate attentions.

  That was a customer-service challenge that Fraumacher accepted eagerly.

  Life at Manley Academy was better for the two little "trannies" and
like-minded others at school than it would have been just about anywhere.

  Though Susan was called Robert and Denise was called Justin in official
records and during all class activities, and all the "girls" like them were
required to wear the boy's uniform for class, they were all fully accepted
members of the Manley community.

  Better than accepted.  Just about everyone wanted to fuck them.  And just
about everyone did.  In or out of their girl clothes. Which they could wear
anywhere except to class.

  Fraumacher REALLY wanted to fuck them.  Teen pantyboys were his life,
though he did co-beditate with a garden-variety boy now and then.  For
variety.

  Fraumacher was hoping that Susan and Denise would want to spend the
entire Labor Day weekend with him.  Though he knew he would have to call in
reinforcements early on Saturday or die from over-fucking.

  He knew he could always count on Mr. Sodomista, the Spanish teacher, for
backup.  Sodomista loved pantyboys.  And regular boys.  And even girls and
[gasp] women!  The man was an omnivore.  But dependable.

  Fraumacher had just completed his preparations when he heard a knock on
his door.  He ran, heart fluttering, to open it.

  There they were.  Robert and Justin.  Soon to be Susan and Denise.
Smiling.  Eager to be feminized and fucked.

   "Oh, my darlings, come in, come in, It's wonderful to see you.,"
Fraumacher said.  "Susan, I missed you very much.  I'm so happy to be with
you again.  And this pretty girl must be Denise.  Welcome to Manley
Academy. We'll do everything we can to make you happy here."

The girls giggled.  They were clearly girls, even though they were
masquerading as boys.

  Fraumacher kissed them both briefly on the lips, then said, "Let's get
you out of those horrible boys clothes and into your frillies.  Off with
those abominations and into the shower."

  Susan and Denise stripped off naked, giggling, and ran into the
extra-large shower in Fraumacher's bathroom.

  "Take a good shower, ladies, but no spilling of your girl's cream!  Save
that for Uncle Freddie."  Which is what Fraumacher wanted his girls to call
him.

  It takes all kinds, all right?

  Anyway, the girls took a nice quick shower, with only a minimum of
kissing and grab-ass.  When they stepped out, Fraumacher was waiting with
big, fluffy towels.  He was also naked.  Which was OK, since he was 35 and
in great shape.

  Denise's heart fluttered as she stole glances at Fraumacher's buff,
35-year-old body.  He was the first naked man the little doll had ever
seen.  Her poor popsy was stiff as iron and her "bag of peanuts" ached at
the thought of what was going to happen to her that wonderful evening.

  She was going to be fucked!

  By a man!

  Denise had been fucked before.  Ten times that week already.  By her
bedmate Susan who took her virginity on Tuesday and took it again every
chance they had.

  Denise blushed when she thought how she had lain on her back, dressed in
black, seamed, fully-fashioned, reinforced-heel-and-toe stockings; a
ruffled, black garter belt and a grimace of sweet agony as Susan, sweet,
similarly-dressed Susan, fucked her tight bottom.

  Denise was in love with Susan, of course.  Who wouldn't be?  Not only was
Susan a beautiful, feminine masterpiece, she had the biggest cock of any
boy at Manley Academy.  Nearly seven inches!  Almost as big as [blush]
Uncle Freddie's.

  Denise's popsy was barely three inches tall when fully aroused.  Which
was the condition she had been in since becoming a Manley student.

  It was so wonderful there at school.  All the dressing and sex she could
ever want.  And no fear of discovery, with attendant catastrophe.

  Denise enjoyed the loving attention Uncle Freddie gave Susan and her when
they stepped out of the shower. He patted (not rubbed) each girl's body dry
with big fluffy towels.  He was so gentle and sweet when he rubbed scented
powder all over the girls' soft bodies.

  And he was so full of delightful compliments.  "You're both perfect,
feminine angels," Uncle Freddie said.  "So beautiful and so girlish.  I
can't wait to see you both in your femmies."

  When the girls were powdered, then perfumed, Susan made a lovely
suggestion.  "Denise is going to faint if her `business" isn't taken care
of soon, Uncle Freddie.  Would you please relieve her tensions while I
begin to put on my makeup?"

  Susan always had good ideas.

  Fraumacher watched Susan's highly fuckable, naked bottom wiggle its way
to his sitting room, where he had a large vanity outfitted with a stunning
array of cosmetics.  Then he focused his gaze on the exquisite pantyboy
before him.  The little creampuff's arms were bent at the elbow, her hands
in sissy fists.  Her miniscule penis was dripping furiously and the
pantyboy was blushing nuclearly.

  Fraumacher fell to his knees, right on the bathroom floor.  He placed his
hands on the femboy's hips and felt the sexual heat of her arousal.

  Gently, sweetly, Uncle Freddie kissed the girl's stomach.  She gasped.

  He wanted to kiss and suck what appeared to be the biggest, puffiest
nipples he had ever seen on a Manley student.  But that was for later.

  Fraumacher kissed Denise's "pink purse."  She squeaked sissily.

  Then the main course.  The man took the girl's cockhead between his lips
and adored it most deliciously with his tongue.

  Denise squealed and shuddered with lust.  Freddie licked and sucked.
Denise enjoyed her new life.

  Fraumacher reached around and introduced a loving finger into the girl's
bottom.  He had barely gotten it into the warm spot when Denise cried out
and pumped an amazingly large volume of girl's cream down the man's throat.

  The girl was small, but her sperm was plentiful.

  Nice.

  And she was grateful. She fell onto her knees and kissed Fraumacher
eagerly, offering every manner of reciprocity.

  He thanked her gratefully, but suggested patience.  Which is not a core
skill of a randy pantyboy.

  After kissing his newest lover passionately, he helped her to her feet,
then led her into his sitting room, where Susan was skillfully feminizing
her face with foundation and blush, then attending to her pretty eyes.

  First rule of loving pantyboys.  The acts of becoming feminine in
appearance, followed by careful self-admiration, are very important to
them.  Don't rush them.  Merely admire and compliment their achievement.
The rewards are great indeed.

  Fraumacher watched as Denise sat on a vanity stool next to Susan and
applied her makeup as Susan did hers.  The school had given them each a
full vanity and cosmetics in their room, of course, but it was not as
well-appointed as Fraumacher's.

  Fraumacher did a great deal of oohing and aaahing as the sweethearts
morphed genders.  He didn't need to flatter the girls just to get into
their panties, though, like any man, he was certainly capable of doing
that.  The girls were truly feminine and beautiful, with femmy bedroom eyes
and full, red, glossed lips.

  It was time to get them dressed and fucked.

  Standing behind the girls as they completed their cosmetic efforts,
Fraumacher styled their hair a bit.  The man loved a boy's short hair style
on his girls, though sometimes, to indulge them, he let them choose from a
variety of wigs he kept in his quarters.

  As he combed their hair, he couldn't help noticing that Denise was
sneaking peeks at his thick, stiff cock.  She'd be getting all of it she
could handle soon enough, he thought.

  Susan also had her eye on "Big Freddie" as she had taken to calling it
during their many ecstatic nights together the previous school year.

  Fraumacher had taken Susan (and other Manley femboys) on several "dates"
to local restaurants, museums and shopping centers.  Pantyboys, unlike
"mainstream Manley boys," he had learned, needed to be seen in all their
femininity.  Keeping them behind Manley walls would have depressed them and
affected the free flow of "pussy" supply.

  So Fraumacher took his "nieces" places all the time.  Frequently he would
take a special girl like Susan to a nearby B&B where the proprietor
understood discretion and the value of several dollars to forget that
Freddie was an uncle with an unusual number of nieces.  Not to mention the
carnal noises coming out of his room all night and morning.

  Breakfasts in the B&B's dining room were intriguing affairs -- with
several "uncles" accompanying their nieces (both pantyboys and genetic
girls) and nephews who displayed an "I was just fucked -- often" glow about
them.

  It had been Fraumacher's ongoing delight to take his "nieces" to the
femmiest shops and buy them the femmiest things.  It gave him great
pleasure to escort a niece (or two) to a fine restaurant and observe the
lustful reactions of male restaurant patrons as his lovelies swayed in on
their four-inch stilettos, the tops of their tan, seamed, fully-fashioned,
reinforced-heel-and-toe stockings barely covered by the skirts of a tiny
minidress.

  Oh the naughty notions those men must have had.  Did they really believe
that the girls were just precious little nieces of a very lucky uncle?  Or
did they think he was going to take those ultra-fuckable, jail-bait
prickpleasers somewhere and violate them all night long?

  The latter was always the answer.

  That night, Fraumacher led his two lovelies into his bedroom, where the
girls gasped at what they saw.

  "I've laid out a number of options for you, my darlings," he said.
"Frilly bras, ruffled garter belts, gossamer-thin babydoll nighties,
panties (though who would really need those?) and, of course, a forest of
fully-fashioned, reinforced-heel-and-toe stockings hung in racks for your
selection.  In pink, white, tan and black.  For your pleasure."

  And for Fraumacher's as well, it must be noted.

  The girls swooned with gratitude.  The still-naked lovelies kissed their
uncle sweetly, then Susan had him lie his back on the bed, atop the
lingerie, his feet on the floor.

  Denise got on her knees and began to suck Uncle Freddie's cock in raw
gratitude.  Her first man cock, it should be noted, though she had had
experience with Susan.  And her older brother.  And two classmates from
sixth grade.

  Susan straddled Freddie's shoulders and fed him her large girliecock.  He
slurped and sucked it eagerly as he enjoyed the attentive tongue of young
Denise, who, it seemed, was quite talented in that regard.

  Testicles were soon emptied and progress was resumed.

  Susan chose a black ensemble, including a pair of black,
four-inch-stiletto sandals that toned her legs and pushed out her bottom.
Yum.

  Denise chose the pink babydoll, garter belt, and stiletto sandals, but
thought tan, seamed fully-fashioned, reinforced-heel-and-toe stockings
looked better than pink.

  The girls took their time dressing, admiring themselves in the mirrors,
then submitting to Freddie's verbal admiration.

  Which gave everyone time to regain their stiffies and recharge their
testicles.

  Freddie removed the unchosen lingerie from the bed, then produced a
bottle of his favorite lube.  Which he bought in gallon jugs from his local
big-box store.

  Gently, sweetly, he lubed up both of his darlings' tight bottoms.  He
hadn't firmed up an agenda yet, but why not be prepared?

  He was about to suggest they all get on the bed when Susan lubed up her
fingers, sissied over to Freddie, and lubed up his bottom as well.

  Oh my.

  This would be quite an evening.

  Freddie meant to have Denise's bottom, so after the three kissed in a
heap, he rubbed lube on his cock, asked her to lie on her left side and
spooned up behind her.

  Freddie knew that, since Denise had been taking Susan's rammer all week
it should be a relatively easy entrance.  Still, he was sweet and gentle as
he slipped in.

  Denise made some great grunts and squeaks as he sodomized her sweet
tushie.

  He was about to pick up the pace when he felt something "back there."

  Susan had joined the party, easing her cock into Freddie's bottom, making
him the meat in a pantyboy sandwich.

  Freddie groaned.

  Susan had apparently had an active summer, he thought as he fucked and
was fucked.

  And the fall was looking very good indeed.


  Eight -- Fun at Smith Tower

  That Friday night at 10 p.m., Sizemore left his two well-fucked
companions, Jimmy and Tommy, to their rest.

  He would have enjoyed staying, but Jason and Kevin Spermley, the only two
brothers ever to attend Manley at the same time, were in his bed awaiting
his arrival.  Their "bags" were probably empty from fucking each other by
then, Sizemore thought, but he would squeeze quite a bit more from the two
angels.

  Tommy and Jimmy didn't even hear him go.

  When they awoke the next morning, their faces, tummies, chests, bottoms
and sheets were sticky with dried cum.  The truest indicator of a fun
evening.

  Tommy looked at Jimmy with a sexual hunger he couldn't have imagined only
a week earlier.  His stiff cock begged for relief and his balls ached with
fullness.

  Tommy leaned over and kissed Jimmy on the lips.  Tommy fully expected
that act to be a catalyst for at least a morning of boy-boy sex.

  Wrong.

  Jimmy returned the kiss, then got out of bed!!  Leaving Tommy stiff and
unsatisfied.

  Why was Jimmy being so cruel?

  "I know you want to empty your testicles, Sweetie," Jimmy said, "but
we've a lot to do today and I'm starving.  Plus, we'll need all the cum
we've got for our Saturday activities."

  Tommy begged Jimmy to let him know what those activities would be, but
Jimmy just said it was a nice surprise.

  The boys showered (separately) and dressed in gray short-shorts, Manley
Academy polo shirt and flip-flops, then walked, hand-in-hand, to breakfast.

  A meal that was unusually interesting.

  Dr. Fraumacher walked in with two beautiful young girls.  In full makeup,
short skirts, big heels and fully-fashioned, reinforced-heel-and-toe
stockings.

  Girls.

  At Manley Academy.

  On closer inspection, Tommy decided that they looked a little like two
Manley students he had seen around.  Robert and...was it Justin?  Were they
boys dressing as girls?  And looking so darned sexy?

  Then there was Fraumacher walking by Tommy and Jimmy's table, saying,
"Good morning, Heather," to Jimmy and making lewd glances at Tommy.

  "Heather?"  Did Jimmy dress as a girl for Fraumacher?  Was Fraumacher
flirting with Tommy?  Expecting him to "girlie up" then take a big cock in
his bottom?

  Tommy shuddered at that.  Though it didn't sound all bad.  Especially the
cock in the bottom part.

  Having had a man's cock in his bottom twice, Tommy was eager for the
third opportunity.  Then the fourth and fifth.

  Ooops.  Into the dining hall walked his cock donor, Mr. Sizemore.  With
two boys whom he had obviously just fucked.  Hey.  Weren't they the
school's only brothers -- one a first-year, the other a second-year?

  If he was fucking them both at once, that meant the brothers were
probably sucking each other's cocks.  At a minimum.

  My, my.  Tommy was beginning to realize that things far beyond the
ordinary were routine at Manley Academy.

  Wasn't it awesome?

  After they ate breakfast, Tommy asked Jimmy if they could have some
"relief" soon.

  "I think we should go swimming, Tommy," Jimmy replied oddly.

  Swimming?

  When his ball bag was sloshingly full and throbbing with need?

  Jimmy took Tommy by the hand and led him to a set of stairs Tommy hadn't
seen before.  Stranger and stranger, Jimmy led Tommy downstairs.

  A swimming pool in a basement?

  No.  The stairs led to a broad, well-lit tunnel.

  As they walked through the tunnel, Jimmy said, "This leads to Smith
Tower.  They have a great pool there and it's a nice warm day."

  Why the tunnel, Tommy thought, and what the heck was Smith Tunnel?

  And what about logistics?  "But I don't have a suit." Tommy half-whined
to Jimmy.

  He didn't want to swim.  He wanted to fuck.

  With Jimmy.  Being with a man would be better, Tommy thought, but the
math was against him.  One hundred Manley Academy boys and only ten faculty
members?  That didn't bode well for Tommy's bottom receiving the mancock it
needed.

  None of which seemed to concern Jimmy.  "No problem," was all Tommy's
beautiful bedmate had to say about the bathing suit issue."

  The tunnel ended at a staircase, which the boys climbed.

  "The tunnel is for privacy, Jimmy said, as they stepped into the hallway
of what appeared to be a very high-end condo building.

  "This way," Jimmy said, and the boys went outside to an area with a
15-foot fence.  Obviously for more privacy.

  Jimmy quickly took off his clothes and flip flops, placing them in a
large cubby hole along the fence.  Reluctantly, Tommy did the same.

  Being naked with Jimmy made Tommy even randier.  Painfully randy.  Maybe
they could...

  No.  Tommy followed Jimmy through a door into...

  A new world.


  A world which will need to be described incrementally.

  First, as Jimmy said, it was indeed a swimming pool.  A very nice pool,
with clear water, surrounded by a manicured, green lawn and about 40 clean,
double-wide lunge chairs.

  Then there were the boys.

  At least thirty beautiful Manley Academy boys.  All deliciously naked.
And frightfully erect.

  Tommy had only seen two boys naked -- Jimmy and Eric.  The sight of boys
he had seen in class, the halls and dining room, now naked, made Tommy
gasp.

  But the big gasp-producer was the other sight.

  Men.

  At least 30 of them.

  Naked.

  Buff.

  Handsome.

  Sitting in the double-wide lounge chairs or standing around chatting with
each other.  Sneaking looks at the boys.  Who were batting their eyes and
wiggling their bottoms in the direction of the painfully erect men.

  What was this place?

  Jimmy was obviously familiar with it.  "This is Smith Tower, Honey,"
Jimmy said to Tommy.  "These are the men who live here.  They have a close
relationship with Manley Academy and are big donors to the school's
endowment.  They're very friendly men.  I think you'll like them."

  Tommy was trembling.  The smell of rampant sexuality was overpowering
him.  As were the stares of at least half the men.  They were sizing him up
as a sexual object!  Someone they want to kiss and fuck and suck and fuck
again.

  It was overpowering and then, from nowhere, Eric appeared.

  "Oh, Tommy!" the sweet little doll said, "I'm so glad you came to the
pool party today.  Isn't it wonderful here?"

  Then Eric kissed Tommy right on the lips.  And rubbed his hot, stiff cock
against Tommy's overexcited woodie.

  Mortifyingly, all it took was about three sweet rubs and Tommy was
cumming.  In thick globs.  All over Eric's stomach and cock.  All over his
own stomach and chest.

  Tommy turned bright red.

  Had everyone seen him act like an over-horny, gay little twit?

  No way to tell, since Tommy's eyes were fixed on the ground.

  What to do?  Fight or flight?

  The pool was closer than the exit.

  Tommy ran to the pool and jumped in.

  The water was cold, but it seemed safer than standing with a cum-drenched
stomach in front of 60-plus men and boys.

  Tommy washed his tummy in the pool, then sneaked a peek to assess the
humiliation.  He expected to see a phalange of mockers, standing around the
pool, hurling derision at him.

  Not exactly.  No one was actually looking in his direction. Instead, the
herd of boys was starting to mingle with the herd of men.

  And he was the only one in the cold pool.

  Why was the water so cold?  Didn't they want anyone swimming?

  Tommy decided that humiliation was preferable to hypothermia, so he found
a ladder and pulled himself out of the pool.

  To be greeted by George Clooney holding several large, warm, fluffy
towels.  At least he looked like George Clooney. Only younger.  And even
more handsome.

  "I thought you might need to warm up," the dreamy man said to Tommy.

  Tommy could only stare at the best-looking man he had ever met.  Did I
mention that the man was naked?  And frighteningly erect?

  Accepting no refusal, the man wrapped Tommy in warming towels and led him
to the sunny area.

  "I'm John Smith," the man said. "And you must be Tommy."

  The man knew who he was?  Tommy looked at the man in wonder.

  "All the men at Smith Tower have heard about you, Tommy," he said.
"You're the prettiest boy who's ever been at Manley Academy."

  Tommy's heart fluttered at the huge praise.  He was a celebrity!  Which
should make it a lot easier to get whatever cock he desired.

  And he apparently desired a lot.

  Sneaking a look around, Tommy noticed that the boys were pairing up with
the men.  He saw Jimmy sharing a lounge chair with a young Robert Redford
look-alike.  The naughty boy was kissing the man as he skinned the head of
the man's huge cock.

  Somehow he didn't think this party was about the pool.

  Mr. Smith sat on half of his lounge chair and offered the other half to
Tommy.  Who accepted gratefully and graciously.

  The sun felt warm and so did his "privates," which, despite his recent
spurtings, seemed to be showing distinct signs of rebirth.

  So there Tommy was, sitting with a beautiful naked man -- a nice man --
who seemed a bit smitten with Tommy.

  Tommy's best option seemed to be, go along with the man, satisfying all
of the man's and his disgusting needs.  Emptying his balls so many times
that they would feel as if they had been horsewhipped.

  Without words, the man understood that Tommy had surrendered to him.

  Only good things would happen from there.

  The man put his arm around Tommy and asked, "Are you still cold?"

  The boy batted his eyes and said, "Not if you hug me."

  Oh my.

  Tommy snuggled against the man's firm body, throwing his arm across the
man's stomach and "inadvertently" brushing the man's cockhead with hiss
forearm

  The two potential lovers snuggled a bit, then Tommy tilted his head back
and parted his lips.

  Mr. Smith accepted the sweet invitation, kissing the boy with passion and
tongue.

  Oh.  Poor Tommy was stiff all over again.

  Things were getting quite warm as Mr. Smith ran his strong fingers along
Tommy's lovestick as they kissed.  Tommy reciprocated, almost burning his
fingers from the heat of Smith's throbbing rammer.

  Who knows what would have happened if Jimmy and his blond swain hadn't
interrupted.

  "Tommy, I see you've made a nice new friend," Tommy heard Jimmy say as
steam was beginning to emerge from his nostrils.

  Tommy didn't appreciate being interrupted when he was about three Smith
strokes and two tongue probes away from cumming.

  But he couldn't stay mad at his bedmate.

  He and Smith stopped kissing and looked up.  The babe-a-luscious blond
seemed to be in a bit of distress as Jimmy hugged his new man as he stroked
the man's cock.

  Jimmy didn't seem to notice the effect he was having on his Saturday date
as he said to Tommy, "Isn't this a great party?  I see you and Eight are
getting along.  Nice to see you again, Mr. Smith.  Did you have a nice
summer?"


  Eight?

  Mr. Smith smiled.  Yes, Jimmy, I had a nice summer.  But I missed the
Manley boys.  I see you've gotten even more beautiful."

  Jimmy blushed.

  Tommy realized they had a history.  Jimmy seemed to have more history
than the public library.

  Mr. Smith explained to Tommy, "Jimmy called me Eight, Honey, because
that's what I'm called here at Smith Tower.  By the oddest coincidence,
everyone who lives here is named `John Smith.'  So to avoid confusion we
have numbers.  My best friend here, Jimmy's date today, is John Smith
Twelve."

  Twelve seemed to be gasping throughout all the chatter.  He said, "Jimmy,
if you don't stop stroking me so deliciously, I'm afraid I might...Oh."

  Too late.

  The embarrassed man, on the day of his first contact with a Manley boy in
eleven weeks, pumped six thick ropes of sperm and semen all over the only
object in the line of fire -- Tommy.

  Jimmy giggled with delight.  "Cum seems to find you, Tommy," he said to
his lover.

  Tommy thought about it a second, then giggled himself.

  Though it was a mess.  In his hair.  On his face and chest.

  Eight smiled at him and said, "Let's go to my condo and I'll clean you
up.  Then we can do anything you want."

  Tommy's peanuts were aching so bad from all this sexuality that he could
think of all kinds of things he wanted.

  The two men and two boys got into the elevator and went to the fourth
floor of the six-story building.  Tommy and Eight went into the flat at the
end of the hall -- Jimmy and Twelve into its neighboring flat.

  Despite the "frosting" on Tommy's beautiful body, as soon as they got
into the apartment, Eight fell to his knees and took Tommy's stiff penis
into his skilled mouth. "I couldn't stand to see you suffer any longer," he
interrupted himself to say.  Then he set about his delightful task.

  Eight was and excellent cocksucker.  And Tommy was very needy.

  The boy was "cleaned out" in a matter of five minutes.

  Chest heaving, the polite boy still offered a similar delight to Eight.

  "Let's get cleaned up first, Honey," he said.  "Then I'll put this woodie
where it will do the most good."


  Tommy trembled.  And his bottom itched with need.

  Mr. Smith led Tommy through the very nicely appointed, very masculine
apartment, through the big bedroom with the mammoth bed, to the huge
bathroom, where the man began to fill the sunken, double-wide tub with warm
water.

  Smith bustled about, setting out soap, towels, wash cloths, shampoo and
such, while Tommy contemplated his imminent fate.

  This was his solo flight with a man.  No Jimmy around.  No schoolmates to
rescue him.

  It was equally frightening and exciting.  Especially when he considered
that he didn't even know the man.  Though he knew Jimmy. And Jimmy was no
worse for wear.

  Soon enough, the tub was full. Smith got in to test the water, pronounced
it fine, and held his hand out for Tommy to join him.

  It was a lovely bath.  One of the best in history.  Smith was attentive
to Tommy -- washing him, shampooing his hair, caressing him.  Even slipping
a shampoo-lubed finger up his bottom as they kissed.

  Tommy was both relaxed and excited when they stepped out and dried each
other off.

  When all was dry, Smith carried Tommy in his arms, like a "boy bride" to
the carnal bed, where he laid him down gently on his back, then lay next to
him and held him gently in his manly arms.

  Had Tommy known how to swoon, he would have done so.

  Instead, he erected.  Which was just as good.

  He also moaned.  Especially when Smith sucked and licked the boy's puffy
nipples.

  Tommy offered no resistance when Smith turned him onto his stomach, held
his bottomcheeks open with his thumbs and began to lick his honeypot.

  Eight ate.

  Nicely.

  Wetly.

  Better than any of Tommy's previous three lickers.

  Mmmmm.

  Being all alone with a rampant man was fun so far.

  Tommy wriggled and moaned, exciting Mr. Smith even more.

  Tommy knew it had to end eventually if real fucking was to begin, but he
sighed with mild disappointment when his lover replaced his tongue with
three slick, K-Yed fingers.

  Smith knew how to massage a prostate and he applied his considerable
skills to torture Tommy's "walnut."

  That almost made Tommy spurt his creamies, which he would have, had he
not cum twice already that magnificent day.

  Plus it was way more fun to wait until the man's big cock was rubbing the
boy's prostate.  Which was imminent.

  Smith slicked his thick, hot, painfully stiff and red cock with generous
amounts of K-Y.  Then he parted Tommy's cheeks again, this time with his
cock.  He found the mark, sighed with pleasurable anticipation and pushed.

  Tommy squealed as he felt the two-inch diameter cock invade his half-inch
diameter boypussy.

  It hurt.  A bit less than previous fucks.  But hurt nonetheless.

  And then it didn't.

  Smith was "all in" as they say in Texas Hold'em.

  Getting a steady rhythm.  Rubbing his hot meat against Tommy's
defenseless prostate.

  Focusing on his own pleasure and orgasm, as men do.

  Tommy loved how Mr. Smith put his weight on Tommy as he fucked him.  It
made Tommy feel helpless and subject to Smith's every sexual desire.

  Tommy knew his own orgasm was close and he surrendered to it.  Feeling
the soft twinges, the stronger twinges, then the point-of-no-return
warnings, followed by the light-the-fires and blow-off-the-tires,
wrench-out-your-guts and blow-off-your-toes orgasm we all strive for.

  Smith stopped pumping for a moment during Tommy's prolonged orgasm.
Admiring his work.

  But his own pleasure beckoned, so Smith pumped and grunted for another
five or six minutes, picked up the pace, groaned and emptied his testicles
into Tommy's welcoming bowels.

  Tommy was having fun at Smith Tower.  And he was pretty sure he would be
invited back.

  A lot.

  Tommy had no worries about that.  School policy ensured that the boys
would have a varied experience.  There were 100 boys and only ten faculty
members, so if the boys were to get a proper ration of mancock, a Smith
Tower was inevitable.

  Residents of Smith Tower paid obscene prices for their obscene
activities, in purchase price, maintenance and other fees and annual
donations to the school.

  It was a bargain.

  There were 36 units at Smith Tower, 33 of which were owned by John
Smiths.  The other three were owned by Manley Academy and were offered free
on a day-by-day basis to local judges, police and elected officials whose
assistance might be required should sticky situations occur.

  The three free units were always occupied.  As were the 33 others.

  Every night during the school year, 36 boys would eagerly spend the night
and/or weekend with a man at Smith Tower.  Ten more would warm the beds of
faculty.  The other 54 boys would pair up happily with each other.  The
occasional threesome would occur, but was not the rule.  The "invisible
hand" seemed to ensure that boys would rotate partners, including the men.
And all was tranquil and delightful at Manley Academy.

  It was certainly delightful in John Smith Eight's apartment that lovely
Saturday.

  Mr. Smith and Tommy were kissing and rubbing face-to face on the
cum-dampened bed.  Smith broke off the kiss and carried Tommy to his living
room couch, where he laid Tommy on his back, then sat at Tommy's feet.

  Tommy's chest heaved as he wondered what was next.

  Smith placed Tommy's feet in his lap, then began to massage Tommy's right
foot.  Odd, but nice, Tommy thought.

  After a while, Tommy lifted Tommy's foot to his mouth and began to kiss
Tommy's pretty toes.

  Tommy wasn't expecting that, but he liked it.  A lot.

  He liked it even better when Smith began to kick and suck each individual
toe.

  On instinct, Tommy rubbed his left foot against Smith's stiffening cock.

  Smith liked that.

  Smith switched feet, adoring Tommy's left foot as the boy rubbed Smith's
cock with his right foot.

  Making both man and boy ready for another vigorous fuck.  Which they
consummated on the couch.  Tommy on his stomach.

  When Tommy spurted what by the fourth round was only a watery dribble, he
wondered vaguely whether Mr. Smith had Scotchgard on his couch.

  Oh well.  That was his business.

  Smith's real business at that moment was emptying his testicles in
Tommy's bottom, which he did several minutes after Tommy's explosion.

  After that round and its follow-up kissing and empty promises of eternal
love, they both needed a break.

  "How about lunch?" Smith suggested and Tommy eagerly agreed.

  His balls were aching dully.  A good ache.  But an ache nonetheless.

  They went into Smith's large, modern kitchen and Smith began to assemble
sandwich things when the phone rang.

  Smith checked caller ID and, to Tommy's surprise, answered it.

  "Hi," Smith said.  "How's it going?  Great.  Yep.  OK.  Sure."

  And he hung up.

  Tommy wondered what would cause Smith to interrupt their sex-a-thon.
Then Smith said, "That was Twelve.  He and Jimmy would like to join us for
lunch.  That's OK, isn't it?"

  Tommy blushed a little. He was sort of covered with cum.  And he wasn't
quite the little exhibitionist the rest of them seemed to be around there.
But he loved Jimmy.  And what harm could it do?

  "OK, sure,"

  Smith stepped over to a door that Tommy though was a closet and opened
it.  And there stood Jimmy and Mr. Smith Twelve.  The apartments adjoined
and were connected by that door.

  Like Tommy, it appeared that Jimmy was having a good day.  He had a big
gob of dried cum on his face, cum was all over his tummy and he was
drooling cum from his bottom.

  He looked very happy.  Very sexy.  And ready for lots more sex.

  The boys hugged and kissed as if they hadn't seen each other for ages,
much to the delight of the Smiths.

  Twelve even suggested, "Why don't you boys occupy yourselves on Eight's
bed while we fix you some lunch?"

  The boys giggled that the men thought they were such little "horndogs."

  But they took the suggestion anyway and ran off to Eight's bedroom.

  Jimmy said, "It smells like cum in here.  Were you two doing anything
naughty?"

  They both giggled.  Then kissed.  More deeply.  Then, in short order they
were on the bed, sucking each other's cocks.

  Until they heard, "Tsk, tsk tsk," Eight said, "These boys are insatiable
little cumhounds.  What are we to do with them, Twelve?"

  Twelve replied, "I think lunch will have to wait. I think we need to send
them to middle school."

  Middle school?

  That notion struck terror in Tommy's heart.  He had just spent his
sixth-grade (age 11) in middle school, formerly known as "junior high
school."  A place of bullies and stuck-up girls. He had no desire to leave
Manley and go there.

  But the Smiths were teasing.

  "Middle school at Smith Tower, Tommy, is where we put you in the middle
and school you on pleasure.  One of us fucks you in your pretty bottom
while you fuck your young friend in his bottom.  You get the simultaneous
pleasure of being giver and receiver."

  Well.

  That didn't sound half-bad to Tommy.

  And from the "raised flags" of the Smiths, it sounded good to them as
well.

  Jimmy knew the drill, he rolled over onto his left side and opened his
bottomcheeks with his right hand.  Inviting Tommy's restiffened peener.

  Tommy gasped.  He had never been the fucker.  Only the fucked.  Though it
was always exciting to try new things.

  Tommy spooned up behind Jimmy and pointed his peehole at Jimmy's
"wrinkly."

  Since both boys' buns were well-buttered, there was no need for
preliminary lubrication and dilation.  Tommy pushed and his teeny wienie
slid in easily.  Making Jimmy groan. Which Tommy liked, but also knew it
was Jimmy being sweet.  How could Jimmy feel his little thingee after being
fucked by Twelve's big meat?

  Which, to Tommy's surprise, was getting in position at Tommy's "servant's
entrance."  Tommy thought that Eight would the one to...you know.

  But when in Smith Tower, do as the Smiths do.  So Tommy went with the
flow.

  Let's note that Tommy enjoyed fucking Jimmy.  His loving bedmate was
quite tight back there and to Tommy, whose cock had not traveled much,
Jimmy's bottom was a little slice of heaven.

  The bigger slice was when Twelve, who was a little longer and thicker
"down there" than his friend Eight, entered Tommy's most private place.

  Oh that was nice.  One in the rear and Tommy's in someone else's rear.

  Middle school.

  The man awaited no ceremony, fucking Tommy quite actively, which
encouraged Tommy to establish a rhythm with Jimmy.  Who seemed to be
enjoying himself as well.

  And most teenagers waste their time with video games.

  Eight, the odd man out, though he was an even number, enjoyed the show,
stroking his cock in anticipation of the next round.

  Twelve was a skilled fucker, and even kissed Tommy's neck and whispered
endearments to him.  Tommy was lost in the quest for his own, massive
orgasm.  Which came far more quickly than the boy anticipated.  And almost
amputated his brain when it slammed into him.

  Tommy was so cum-struck that he almost didn't notice when Twelve gasped
and panted and shuddered through his own gargantuan "petit mort."

  Jimmy managed to refrain from cumming, since his stiffie would be an
integral component of the second class of middle school that day.

  The three lovers took about a 15-minute break before resuming classes.

  Then Eight's needs dictated that they resume.  Jimmy in Tommy.  Eight in
Jimmy.

  Grunt, groan, strain and spurt, spurt, spurt happened.  Including another
orgasm by Tommy when Twelve joined the threesome by taking Tommy's limp
pecker into his mouth and making it cum, despite its limpness.

  That called for some serious rest.  The four lay in a cummy heap for
quite some time.

  Then Twelve said, "We never did get that lunch.  Tommy, would you like to
come over to my place?  I could fix you an early dinner.  And then
,,,breakfast.

  Was Twelve inviting him to his place for an all-nighter of sex?

  Should he accept?

  He looked at Eight, who smiled at Tommy and then leered at Jimmy, who had
begun to tickle Eight's ball sack.  Tommy looked at Jimmy, who said, "If he
offers you an enema, take it.  It's awesome!"

  Tommy giggled.  Then he said, "OK, Jimmy.  If Eight offers to suck your
toes, let him.  It's awesome."

  More giggling.  The boys kissed farewell.  Which stirred the men's limp
cocks.

  Tommy threw his arms around Twelve and let himself be carried into
Twelve's apartment.

  There were no classes until Tuesday morning.  And Tommy had two school
years, less a week, left at Manley Academy.

  Could life be any better?


  I welcome your comments at beautifulcreamer@yahoo.com

  Other stories on nifty:

  "The Little Prickpleaser" (incest)
  "Sweetyboys" (young friends)