Date: Sat, 23 Jul 2005 18:12:39 +0100
From: Story Teller <storymeister@gmail.com>
Subject: Turning Back The Years, Gay/ Encounters

This is the first story I ever wrote, and my initial intention was to add
further chapters but I never get round to it.  Although it is 100%
fictional, the idea came from a guy I knew by site.  He looked about 12
years old and I used to think, "If I looked like him I would be running
around in a school uniform".

As usual, copyright rules apply; all comments are welcome.


                             TURNING BACK THE YEARS


It all started at Halloween.........

My name is David Martin, I am 21 years old, 5'5" tall and weigh 110 lbs,
I haven't grown an inch (height-wise) or gained an ounce since I was 15.
  Despite my best efforts, I do not look a day over 16 and always have to
carry my passport, as that is the only piece of identity some bars, clubs
etc. are willing to accept from me.

I was a smart child at school and went on to take a university where I
took a first class degree in Computer Science.   I was set to take a
Ph.D. with my choice of universities when I received an offer from an
up-and-coming computer firm where I would work on a special project for 2
years at a very attractive salary, return to University to take my Ph.D.
on a reduced but still generous retainer then return to work for them
when I graduate, the only condition being that I guarantee to stay for at
least 5 years. It was too good an opportunity to refuse, so I didn't.

I had been with the company for two months when I was told that the firm
held its annual staff party at Halloween since everyone else had theirs
at Christmas and it allowed staff to accept invitations without clashing.
  I was looking forward to the party until the day it was to be held.  We
were in the office when we were told that, as usual, we could leave early
to give us a chance to get into our costumes.

Costumes?   What costumes?  No one had told me this was going to be fancy
dress.  I went home quite depressed, although everyone assured me that it
didn't matter, I knew I couldn't turn up at a fancy dress party in
"Mufti" At home I searched through every wardrobe, trunk and drawer in
the house (I was still living with my parents while flat hunting) looking
for inspiration but, short of wearing one of my mother's dresses, I was
stumped, and although (or because) I had come out at work, I didn't think
that was an option.

Finally my younger brother came home from school and someone, (my Dad, I
think) suggested I wear my brother's school uniform.   My brother is 13
years old and as tall as me (genes can be cruel) and although I dismissed
the idea at first, for the lack of anything better I decided to go with
it.

Two hours later I set off in white shirt and tie, blazer, short grey
trousers, long socks and a school cap.

The party went well, some of the costumes were really inventive, far
better than mine but at least I looked less silly than the guy wrapped in
a sheet passing himself as Julius Caesar.   I lost count of the number of
times I was asked if I wasn't too young to be drinking/ smoking (and
tried to react each time as if it was the first time I heard it) but was
generally enjoying myself, getting to know some of the staff who had been
only faces in the corridor up till now.   The managing director arrived
with his wife dressed as Napoleon and Josephine and looking fabulous.
She was a beautiful dark haired woman about 45 years old and, of more
interest to me, he was an extremely handsome man of 37.   He is about
6'2" tall and trim in all the right places, dark hair greying at the
temples and a film star smile.

I had met him at various interviews before taking the job, but other than
my first day, I hadn't really seen much of him.   The girl I was talking
to when they entered was quick to tell me that his wife was a bit older
than him, that he had the brains but she had the money and that every
woman in the place (including my informant) had made a play for him but
got nowhere.   She also told me that although they made great effort with
their costumes, he preferred to come early, show his face then leave,
believing his staff would have a better time without feeling he was
watching them.

After about 20 minutes he appeared at my side and started to make small
talk, asking me how I was settling in, asking me if I was really old
enough to drink (yawn-yawn).   Maybe I had had more to drink than I
realised because I answered, "I'm old enough to do anything allowed by
law" Now, the great thing about a Napoleon costume is, the trousers are
made of a knitted type material and are cut fairly tight.   I noticed him
sort of wriggle slightly trying to adjust himself, and when I looked
there was certainly something happening inside those trousers.  I decided
there and then I should stop drinking; at best I could be in for an
interesting evening, at worst I could read things wrong and lose a good
job.

I went over to the drinks table (wine, bottled beer or soft drinks) and
picked up a fresh orange juice and continued to circulate but within 5
minutes, my boss was over again, asking about my time at university, what
friends I have, my outside interests.   He then told me that his wife had
left to see to the children, but he had decided to stay a bit longer,
then he asked why I wasn't drinking and I told him that I don't usually
drink beer and that wine can disagree with me, so I had decided to draw a
line and stick to soft drinks.   A few minutes later he pulled me to one
side and said "I don't want everyone to hear this, because it will start
a stampede, but I have some really good whiskies in my cabinet up in my
office". I pretended to consider it for a moment then replied "Well,
O.K., maybe just one, I wouldn't like to get silly"

He said he would head upstairs and invited me to follow in a few minutes.
As soon as he left the room I headed along to my desk, fetched a small
toilet bag I keep there and went to the bathroom.   I took a small piece
of toothpaste and swilled it around my mouth, squirted a little cologne
under my arms and, lastly, taking some K.Y. jelly on my finger I gave
myself a quick rimming, stuck two condoms in my pocket and headed up to
the boss's office.

When I entered he had two glasses of whisky poured, they both looked the
same but I could see that his had more ice than mine, so I made a mental
note to sip slowly and not get greedy.

I removed my blazer and sat on the chair by the coffee table, but instead
of him taking his seat behind his desk he sort of perched on the edge of
the desk, making his groin push forward slightly.

"Well, David, I'm glad to see you have settled in so well, you seem to be
getting along with everyone.   My secretary tells me you are gay."  I
choked slightly on my drink and said, "Yes, I have been since I was 12,
although I wasn't active until I was 16" I thought, "If he is trying to
shock me, two can play that game".

"I bet your men friends would love to see you dressed as you are tonight,
I'm sure that would be considered very sexy by some men."

"Do you think so?" I said, "I hadn't considered that, it was a last
minute thing"

"Oh yes", he said, "I think some men would be turned on by your little
boy look. With that angelic face, your small boyish build, those smooth
legs, I have no doubt at all"

By this time the bulge in his trousers was dancing to it's own music so I
looked him straight in the crotch and said, "Yes, I can see that now."

He immediately stood up, started walking around the room, pausing behind
me to adjust his growing packet and began asking me about my project.
Then he came over, stood over me and said "You know, I am very impressed
by you - - - I mean your work" He then put his hand on my shoulder and
said "You know I am always here if you have any problems".   I swear if I
had been wearing a nylon shirt it would have melted to my skin, the heat
from his hand made me jump.  As he kept talking, he left his hand on my
shoulder but slowly slid it forward until his middle finger touched my
nipple, which, like its twin, was standing proud.   As I tried hard not
to shiver his finger moved slightly left then right, caressing the
ever-hardening nipple, and as I bit my lip to stop making a noise he
moaned slightly.   I looked up into his eyes and saw naked lust, my
favourite look.  I slipped my hand up my shorts and allowed my rigid cock
to find its freedom and show its head out of the bottom of my shorts.   I
should say that although my body size had stayed small, I had grown where
it matters, with a healthy 6.5" uncut cock which, when I am naked, looks
even more impressive on my small body.   As I released myself I moved my
head back and to the side slightly so that I brushed his uncontrollable
bulge.  Right there he lost it.   He stood in front of me, pulled me to
my feet, pulled my shorts and underwear down, lifted me by the waist and
sat me on his desk then dropped forward and took my meat down his throat
on the first go.   I nearly came right off but managed to hold back (God
knows how) as I felt his throat close around the head of my cock.  I knew
I had to slow things down so I pushed him back, reached down and removed
his trousers to reveal a very impressive 7 inch dick already oozing
enough precum to lubricate the Q.E.II.  I started to lick around the head
cleaning him up and swallowing as I want along, but the more I cleaned
the more he produced.  Slowly I slid my lips over the head and down his
shaft.   Unlike him I couldn't take it all at once but after 3 or 4 goes
I finally felt his thick bush against my face.  As I worked on him he was
hastily removing his clothes, throwing the jacket and shirt in a corner
then stepping out of his shoes, slithering out of his trousers and
kicking them aside.   He pulled away from me, looked into my eyes and
kissed me, sliding his tongue through my lips and practically reaching my
tonsils before moving his mouth and licking my face, my nose, my eyes.

He dropped to his knees and started sucking on me again, more slowly than
before but just as intensively, savouring every inch, removing his mouth
to suck on my testicles then moving his tongue forward between my legs.
By this time I was moaning and simpering like a chocoholic in an Easter
Egg factory.  He went back to my cock and slowly slid his lips down my
throbbing cock, at the same time slipping one hand around me to squeeze
my bum and the other through my legs to caress my crack.   He then slid
one finger up my crack and massaged my sphincter before sliding the
finger inside me.  That was it, I lost it completely, I felt my cock
explode in his throat before he pulled back slightly to catch the rest of
my orgasm in his mouth.   At the same time my legs buckled beneath me so
that he was supporting me completely with his hands as I slumped forward
over him.

He didn't break stroke, just continued prodding me gently, first with one
finger, then two, and then three.   He slowly removed his hand, and again
lifted me up and placed me on the desk, but this time he laid me back and
raised my legs.  He bent forward and kissed my ass-ring licking and
probing with his tongue until I felt myself get hard again.   He then
leaned forward placing his plum-shaped, plum-coloured cock head against
my now open arse.  I reached over to my trousers, took out a condom and
handed it to him and mouthed one word "Slowly".   He put the condom on
and gently pushed forward.  For a second I thought I wouldn't manage to
take it but finally the head was in and I knew the sorest part was over.
  He waited for a moment to allow me to get used to it then he slowly
pushed forward feeding me about 2 inches before pulling back.  He pushed
again; this time giving me a bit more then withdrew again.   On his third
push he stopped short of giving me everything but I couldn't help myself,
I pushed forward and took his man-meat into me as far as it would go.
He started to pump me slowly and passionately, settling to a steady
rhythm and pinching my nipples as I ran my fingers over his hairy chest.
He leaned forward and kissed me and took my arms and placed them around
his neck before standing up with his arms around my back.   I couldn't
believe it, the cock that I thought was in to the hilt slid in another
inch as my weight pushed me down.  He placed one hand under my buttocks
and raised me slightly a few times then sat on his leather chair with me
facing him, my legs around his waist.

He picked up the pace again, pushing his cock firmly into my grasping
arse.  I managed to get my feet onto the seat either side of him and was
able to take over, raising and lowering myself onto him.  After a while I
started to raise myself right up so that only the head was still within
me then letting myself drop onto him.   He started to moan really loudly,
rising from the seat to meet me coming down, thrusting himself viciously
into me until I felt, first the base of his cock, then his pulsing head
start to swell before erupting inside of me.   I felt the first spurt hit
my insides before he followed with 5 or 6 more.  Half way through my ring
contracted and I shot my second load all over his chest and mine.   As we
both came back down from somewhere near paradise he hugged me to him
kissing me, licking some of my cum from my chin, (I had gone further than
I realised) then kissing me again sharing the taste.

We sat like that for the longest time before he slowly softened and
slipped from my hole.   He pointed me towards his private bathroom where
we showered before getting dressed and leaving.  We slipped out the back
door, figuring it was better to leave rather than return to the party and
have people wonder where we had been for over an hour.

So that was my experience of my first staff party and my only sexual
experience with my boss.   He has never made another move and neither did
I.  I don't know why he never tried again but I think maybe it is because
he has never seen me dressed as a 14-year-old boy again.   I don't mind,
I quickly formed my own ideas of what I could do in my new identity.