Date: Fri, 4 Nov 2011 05:57:52 -0700 (PDT)
From: Joe Hunter <hunterjoe45@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Commercial Traveler #9

All the usual disclaimers apply:

+This story is a work of fiction.  If you think it is real, you have a very
active imagination.

+Do not read this story if you live in an area where it is illegal to do
so.

+Scenes of sexual activity between an adult male and young boy are
represented.  Do not read further if this offends you.

+Please do not imitate the actions portrayed herein - the author cannot
accept responsibility for any actions promoted by this story.

If you would like to get in touch, please e-mail me at:

			hunterjoe45@yahoo.com

A tip of the hat to 'R M' whose Text-A-Boy stories were my inspiration for
this series.  Thank's 'R M'!  (Text-A-Boy Service - part 1 is in the
archive, 18 Nov 2008, and the whole series is a fun read!)

I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Support Nifty!   Joe

____________________________

THE COMMERCIAL TRAVELER #9  ( Jason )
(copyright 2011, Joe Hunter)

Call me Jack.

I'm 37, look younger, keep myself fit - and I'm a boy lover.  I've heard
some say that it's hard to find willing boys, but I don't think so; not
when you travel as often as I do.  I fly around a lot on business.  Nothing
fancy, always coach or business class, and midrange motels on the job.  But
when it comes to indulging my interest in boys I'm willing to spend money,
and I'm rarely at a loss for a companion.

My secret?  A spare cell phone - the modern-day equivalent of the little
black book.  Mine goes with me everywhere and all my boy contacts are on
it.  Only they have the number.  I buy each one of them similar phones so
they can call or text as often as they want and when they get short on
minutes I text over a PIN for prepaid time.

The system works to us in touch and most of the time, when I go anywhere,
I'm already hooked up...

------------------
| Destination:   |
|  Cincinnati    |
------------------

"You can see how high we are now."

I peered over the boy's shoulder while he pressed his face to the cabin
window, staring at the ground far below.

"Are those, like, mountains down there?"

"Well, sort of," I told him.  "Eastern mountains, anyway.  The really big
mountains are all out west in the Rockies."

"Those got snow on 'em even in summer, right?"

"The high ones do.  You ever been there?"

"Uh-uh"

My hand was on his thigh, up under the loose shirt, and he shifted a little
in the seat making it easier for me to rub the stiff boner tenting out the
front of his baggy pants.

"On the plane goin' down to Florida," he said, "All you could see was
cloud.  This is like way better!"

My fingers moved on him, stroking through the khaki cloth.  He squeezed his
butt to harden himself even more.

I had spotted him the moment he entered the departure area, tagging along
behind his parents, carrying a little duffel bag.  The stylish khaki
trousers and baggy gold T-shirt were right out of an ad for The Gap, and
while the two adults were checking in I had been unable to keep my eyes off
him.  He was a very good-looking boy; light brown hair, clean-cut chiseled
features - a sort of wholesome, all-American appearance.  I put his age at
twelve, and noted with approval the lithe easy grace.  There was a good
build beneath those loose clothes.

Looking bored, he followed his parents to some empty seats and I got a
closer look.  I had to avert my eyes to keep from staring.  His features
were so striking he could have been a model, one of those beautiful young
boys in the ads for expensive clothing you see in GQ or Esquire.

While we all waited for the boarding call I watched him covertly, trying to
guess what he might be like...

Football or soccer?  Soccer, I thought.  His parents probably wouldn't let
him play football.

Rap or rock?  Rock, almost certainly.

Video games or skateboarding?  Hard to say.  He didn't pull out a Game Boy
the moment he sat down, as a lot of kids would have done.  Instead he
passed the time by looking out the big glass windows at the operations on
the field.

It was the Orlando airport, a main hub, busy enough to hold anyone's
interest if they liked watching aircraft, and I was in the midst of a quick
switch; one of those deals where, just as I finished with one customer,
another had called with an emergency saying only I would do.  It's nice to
be wanted.  It was a good thing I had brought an extra shirt.

Either way I was glad to be out of Orlando.  Disney World...  Universal
Studios...  Dozens of other theme resorts...  all attracting a horde of
great looking boys...

Every one of them accompanied by watchful parents.

No thanks.  Count me out.

The downer was that I was heading for Cincinnati, where currently I was
without a contact.  It looked like a long week, running into an even longer
weekend.  The way things were going I would end up in a motel that didn't
have cable.

When the boarding call came I watched my stunning boy-model follow his
parents into the jet way while phrases like 'ships passing in the night'
sounded in my brain.  Once the crowd cleared out I shuffled on board at the
end of the line, bag in hand.  There was no sign of the kid in first class,
but as I made my way down the aisle in coach, sidling past guys stuffing
carry-ons into the overheads, I spotted him sitting by a window with an
empty seat next to him.

I checked my boarding pass...

"Can't be," I whispered.

The discovery that I was seated next to him almost buckled my knees.
"Can't be!" I mouthed again.  That kind of lucky break never happened to
me.

"Hi."  The boy treated me to a dazzling smile when I sat down.

"Oh, I hope you don't mind."  His mother was leaning toward me from a seat
across the aisle.  "My husband hates flying and has to have a middle seat.
But Jason wanted to be next to a window."

It took a heroic effort to control my face.  Medals have been handed out
for less.  "No problem," I assured her.

So the boy's name was Jason.  Up close he was even better looking than I
had thought and I caught the smell of young boy mixed with the scent of Gap
shampoo.  I was thinking of the best way to start a conversation when he
beat me to it.

"Do you, like, fly a lot?"

"More than most.  I travel a lot on business."

"This is just my second time.  My first was last week on our way here."

"Vacation?"

"Yeah.  We went to Disney World."

"How was it?"

He gave me another sunny smile and made a little gesture with his hand.
"Pretty fun.  We, like, stayed at this place that had a big water park.  It
was awesome!"

Just then there was a bump and the plane shook a little.  The boy turned to
look out the window.  "What was that?"

"They're removing the jet way, that thing we walked in on.  Next, they'll
hook up a truck and pull us out so we can taxi."

"Cool!"

The boy was full of questions and I gave him a running commentary on what
was happening as our plane taxied, spooled up the engines in the run-up
area and then finally took off with a roar.

"This is like way cool!" the boy exclaimed, watching the ground drop away
through his window.

While the plane climbed to cruising altitude we each settled back in our
seats.  "So, where do you live?" I asked.

Jason gave me the name of a suburb outside Cincinnati and I nodded my head.
"That's where I'm going, too.  What grade you in?"

"Sixth.  I'll be going to middle school next year."

"Middle school's a blast.  Sports, girls..."

The boy nodded, but seemed a bit uncertain.  I gave him a speculative look.
"Play a lotta' soccer?"

His eyes widened in surprise.  "How'd you know?"

"You got the look.  Plus the way you move.  And your legs look pretty
strong."

"Uh-huh.  They're like my strongest part.  See?"  He smoothed the cloth of
his khaki pants over his left thigh showing off the curve of muscle.  I
glanced over at the seat across the aisle.  His mother was dozing, a
magazine folded on her lap, and next to her the father was asleep as well.

"Flex it for me," I told the boy, placing my hand on his thigh.  He
straightened his leg, tightening the muscle and I nodded in appreciation.
"Pretty good.  You like soccer?"

"It's OK."  I saw him glance over at his parents, just as I had done, and
then he brushed his hand along my upper arm.  I flexed it for him and he
asked, "Do you like work out a lot?"

"Yeah."

"Like with weights an' stuff?"

"Sure."

The boy nodded.  "That's what I like.  Liftin' weights and, like,
bodybuilding an' stuff.  I like it more than anything!"

"Wow."  I eyed the boy, genuinely impressed.  "There aren't many kids your
age who can do that.  Are you on a team?  You got your own weights?"

He shook his head, frowning.  "I don't have anything.  My parents don't
like me doin' it.  They won't let me get nothin'!  Not even, like, a cheap
little curl bar!"  He looked at me in appeal.  "My dad says it would, like,
stunt my growth.  That ain't true, is it?"

"Not if you did it right.  So how do you work out if they won't let you?"

"At my friend's house."  Jason glanced over at his parents again and then
gave me a sly look.  "His big brother's got weights, and he, like, lets us
use 'em."

"At least that's something.  Not as good as workin' out every day, though."

"I know.  My legs are like OK, but I wanna' get strong, like, all over!"

Taking my hand he pushed it up under his loose shirt where my fingers
touched the warm silky smoothness of his bare waist.  The boy's firm body
was so lean I could feel every swell of definition in the hard sheet of his
stomach.  "I know I could get big if I had my own weights an' stuff," he
said, turning a little so I could slide my palm around.  "Then I could,
like, go in contests an' stuff.  They got 'em for kids.  I know they do.
My friend's big brother talks about it."

"You got a good build.  It sucks they won't let you do it."

"Uh-huh!"

My fingers explored beneath the boy's waistband and he sucked in his
stomach to give me more room.  He was wearing tight underwear briefs and I
pushed under the elastic.  Sitting side by side with him there was no way
to go further without being so obvious that someone would spot what we were
doing.  Jason took a quick look around and slid his hands beneath his shirt
to unbuckle the leather belt he was wearing.  He paused a moment for
another cautious glance at his parents across the aisle before unfastening
and carefully pulling down the fly.

"OK," he whispered, tugging my hand onto his crotch and then covering it
with the edge of his loose shirt.

Awkwardly I pushed into his briefs, stroking the glossy skin of his lean
belly with the backs of my fingers.  "Wow.  You are really strong here," I
murmured, sliding my fingertips back and forth on his right groin crease
and then pressing on the muscle of his upper thigh.

"Uh-huh!"  The boy was taking obvious pride in my appreciation - and that
was not all.  He was rock hard, his rigid boy stick straining against the
briefs, right where my roving hand could not possibly miss it.  I rubbed
the shaft's slick stretched skin by letting it slide between two of my
extended fingers, discovering in the process that Jason was about half
adult size, circumcised and had a hairless smooth groin.  The boy spread
his thighs a little and I felt him squeeze his butt to make his rigid boner
swell beneath my fingers.

"This is really good," I whispered.

"Uh-huh!"  Jason's eyes were glowing with excitement and he gave me another
sly smile to acknowledge the secret we were sharing.

"Pretend you're looking at something out the window," I told him in a
murmur, withdrawing my hand from under his clothes.

Jason half turned and put his face close to the Plexiglas while I leaned
over to look past his shoulder.  In that position I could slide a hand
beneath his loose shirt and explore his upper body, circling on the silky
warmth, fingertips brushing over hard little points of nipples and tracing
the outline of ribs.  Jason held still, mouth half open, flexing a little
each time my fingers went over his chest muscles, and then finally
whispering, "I'm like built good, ain't I?"

"Better believe it," I whispered back.

We had to stop when the flight attendant came down the aisle with the snack
cart.  Jason leaned back in his seat, the edge of his baggy shirt down over
the unzipped fly.  His parents were still asleep so I bought him a Coke and
a bag of cocktail nuts, which he munched with an air of mischievous glee.

"My mom, like, never lets me have stuff like this.  She says it's bad for
me."

I took a sip of Coke and smiled at him.  "Enjoy it while you can."

As soon as the flight attendant was out of the way my hand went back on
Jason's thigh and he lifted his shirt so I could slide it up onto the bulge
in the front of his exposed underwear.

"Check this out," I told him in a low voice.  "There's bodybuilding stuff
you can do so your parents don't find out.  I can show you.  I'll give you
my phone number so you can call me, OK?"

Jason looked at me eagerly.  "OK!"

"Tell me where you live."

He gave me his address and while I entered it into my phone's contact list
he made a trip to the toilet.  When he came back his eyes were shining with
suppressed excitement.  Settling into his seat he glanced around, gave me a
sly look and pulled my hand back beneath his shirt.  The moment I began to
rub him through the pants I realized he had taken off his underwear.

"Nice!"  I whispered.

Jason stifled a laugh and squirmed a little to open his legs.  Under the
khaki cloth his rigid boner was jutting straight up, hard and quivering.  I
slid my fingers along its slick length, stroking in slow rhythm while the
two of us made whispered plans.  "I'll be around for at least three days,"
I told him.  "Call me as soon as you can and we'll hook up."

"Yeah!"

A cloud deck had obscured our view of the ground since we had left Florida,
but it was finally thinning out and I nudged Jason, gesturing toward the
window.  "Check it out," I whispered.

We grinned at each other and the boy turned to look while I leaned over his
shoulder pointing out landmarks.  In this position it was much easier to
use my fingers on him, and the movements were hidden.  I rubbed faster,
felt the boy tense as he squeezed his butt cheeks, and then he gave a soft
little cry, "Ohhh!"  Pulsations throbbed in his straining shaft.

"Ssssh!"  I warned and he stifled another laugh.  When we relaxed back into
our seats there was a wet spot on the front of his pants and when I pulled
his shirt down to cover it Jason stifled a laugh.

"Hang on," I told him.  "I'll get some napkins..."

A call to the cabin attendant provided not only paper napkins but also
another round of Cokes and cocktail nuts.  Jason carried out necessary
damage control and then, after gobbling our snacks, we went back to the
study of geography through the window.  Once again my fingers got busy
under his clothes and with the insatiable passive ardor of a typical
twelve-year-old Jason remained rock hard through several more jerky
episodes - the last one so enthusiastic I was sure it would attract
attention.

"Geez!" I warned, glancing around.  "Keep it down!"

Jason sputtered, trying not to laugh.  Eyes sparkling, he whispered back,
"I can't help it!"

We might have done more after that, but there was an announcement over the
cabin speakers about the weather at our destination and people began moving
around the cabin, making trips to the toilets or getting bags out of the
overhead, so we had to be careful.  Then Jason's parents woke up and the
plane began to descend.  While we made our approach into the airport the
boy listened with rapt interest to my explanation of what the flight crew
was doing and kept his nose against the window, watching as we landed.

The moment we were taxiing I whispered, "Call me as soon as you can," and
slipped a piece of paper with my spare cell number into his palm.

"Uh-huh!"

He nodded.  Then his parents collected him and I waited until they were
well ahead before exiting myself.

I didn't have to wait long for the kid to call.  The very next morning
while I was meeting with the customer my spare cell chirped and Jason's
voice was in my ear.

"Can you come over now?"

"How come you're not in school?"

"It's still vacation, Jack!  I don't gotta' go back 'til next week!"

"Oh...  Yeah, that's right.  Duh!  I forgot about that."

"So come over now," the boy pleaded.  "My parents are at work.  They won't
be back until, like, five."

I checked my watch.  "OK.  I'm coming.  I'll be there by eleven.  And I'll
bring you lunch.  You want hamburgers, a sub sandwich, chicken or pizza?"

"Pizza!"

"You got it.  See you at eleven."

I had to finesse things with the client to make it work, but I had already
discovered they were unprepared for me.  I gave them a list of things they
needed to do before I could solve their problems and then took off for a
local mall that had a Sears.  There I bought a chin up bar, the kind that
fits into a doorframe, and two of the fancy dumbbells that use lock-in
square weights.  A directory map in the mall arcade gave me the location of
a Victoria's Secret where I stopped in for a special item.  Then, with my
purchases stashed in the rental car, I used my cell to access the Internet
for directions to Jason's house and the nearest Pizza Hut.

Thank God for GPS.  LA will forever be the worst, but the tarmac tangle
around Ohio's Queen City may rank in the top five.  Jason lived in an
upscale residential suburb; fancy two and three-story houses, attached
garages, well-kept lawns, shade trees...  Everything screamed money.  After
picking up the pizza I followed my rental's GPS straight to his house, and
parked in the driveway behind some bushes that screened the car from the
street.  If the kid's parents made a surprise appearance I would say I was
delivering something I had promised during the flight.

Absolutely true, too.

Jason had been watching for me and was at the front door wearing a
billowing Cincinnati Bengals T-shirt, big enough on him to uncover one of
his silky shoulders.  The shirt went almost to his knees and below that
legs and feet were bare.  If he was wearing anything underneath I couldn't
tell.  His eyes glowed with excitement when he saw I was loaded down.  He
ran out to grab the pizza boxes and the two liter bottle of Coke while I
carried my duffel and the Sears package, which was already starting to tear
from the weight of the chinning bar and heavy dumbbells.

"What's this?"  The boy asked eagerly, peering into the ripped bag when I
dropped everything at the foot of the stairs in the hallway.

"All stuff for you," I assured him.  "First show me your kitchen."

Reluctantly the boy tore himself away from the mysteries in the sack and
led the way to a big kitchen-dining area at the rear of the house.  Picture
windows overlooked a neatly landscaped backyard.

"Let's do the weight lifting stuff first," Jason begged as I opened pizza
boxes on the counter.

"Have one slice while they're hot," I told him, "Then I got a ton of stuff
to show you and we can finish eating later.  You got any ice?"

He got two glasses, filled them from an ice dispenser on the refrigerator
door and then watched as I poured Coke into them.  "Better not tell your
mom," I said and Jason laughed, shaking his head.

We each grabbed a slice of pizza and after the first bite Jason took a
quick gulp of icy Coke.  "It's hot!"  He gasped.

"Yeah.  It's supposed to be," I said, smiling.  "Don't try to eat so fast."

But the boy was impatient.  He finished before I did and then stood
bouncing on his toes, waiting for me to be done.  The moment I licked my
fingers he was tugging at my arm.

"Come on, Jack.  Show me all the stuff!"

We hustled upstairs, the boy carrying my duffel while I followed with the
heavy Sears bag, supporting it with one hand underneath to keep the bottom
from ripping any further.

Except for real-life, typical boy clutter, Jason's room could have been an
illustration for "Parenting" magazine.  The rumpled bed had a blue coverlet
decorated in rocket ships and stars.  A shelf unit extended along the wall
holding an assortment of books, mostly Goosebumps and Harry Potter.  There
were matchbook cars, what looked like a rock collection, and a soccer
trophy.  In the corner a small desk supported keyboard and computer
monitor, with a web cam perched on top of the monitor.  On the wall by the
door hung a colorful Cincinnati Bengals poster.

"My dad put that there," Jason told me, waving toward the poster as if in
apology.

"Check this out," I told him, dumping the Sears bag in the middle of the
room, uncovering boxes with pictures of the dumbbells on them.

Jason gave a delighted gasp.  "Nice!"

He reached for them, but I shook my head.  "Look at this other thing
first."

Together we opened the box containing the doorframe bar and Jason stared.
"What is it?"

"Chinning bar.  It's perfect for you.  Put it up to work out and hide it
the rest of the time.  Watch..."

I got the chair from his desk, had him stand on it in the doorway and
demonstrated how to jam the bar into the frame.

"See?  You unscrew the ends and these rubber cushions hold it.  Make it
good and tight, OK?  You don't want it to slip while you're hangin' from
it."

"This is awesome!"

Taking hold of the bar Jason kicked the chair out of the way and
energetically yanked himself up and down several times, his body swinging.
I supported him with a hand either side of his hips to slow him down,
discovering to my disappointment that he was wearing underwear briefs
beneath his loose shirt.

"Easy there, stud.  Let's do it right.  Take a deep breath.  Now, let it
out slowly as you pull yourself up.  That's it..."

The boy's firm lean body was warm and silky smooth beneath his clothes.  As
he moved through the exercise I let my palms slide on him, caressing hip,
butt and thigh.

"Yeah, that's better...  Hold form, do it slow.  You get more out of it
that way.  That's it...  Chin up over the bar and hold it for a sec each
time.  Good..."

I showed Jason how to reverse his grip to change the exercise and the boy
followed my explanation closely.

"It feels like all different that way," he exclaimed after trying it.

"Yeah.  Palms in, you're workin' the bicep.  Palms out, it's more on your
back and shoulders."

"I can do, like, lots a' these!"

"Yup.  Switch your grip each time you take a break.  Do as many as you can.
The more you do, the stronger you get."

"Awesome!"

Jason made a jump for the bar, grabbed on and did ten more pull-ups while I
watched.

"Yeah," I told him.  "That's it.  Breath, go slow...  Don't let yourself
swing."

Once I was sure he had mastered correct form I pointed at the boxes on the
floor.  "Let's see what else you've got."

The boy scurried over and knelt down.  The boxes were sealed with packing
tape and I had to help him with it.  When he pulled the flap back and saw a
gleaming dumbbell with all its colorful lock-on weights Jason's whole face
lit up.  "Oh, wow!"

I stroked his shoulder.  "If your parents won't let you have a barbell set,
this is the next best thing.  You can hide 'em easy in your closet, and
they work for all sorts of exercises..."

But the boy wasn't listening.  He was already tearing into the other box
and once the second dumbbell was on the floor next to its companion he
turned to me, eyes glowing with excitement.  "I know how to use 'em, Jack!
I read all about it."

Scrambling on hands and knees across the floor he reached beneath his bed
and pulled out a stack of tattered magazines.  "My parents don't know I got
these," he whispered, giving me a conspiratorial wink.

The magazines were old copies of 'Flex' and 'Muscle and Fitness', each
looking as if it had been thumbed through many times.  Jason went searching
through the pile until he found what he wanted.  "See?"  He said, showing
me.  "They, like, tell how to do everything here."

The lengthy article showed a dozen ways dumbbells could be used for
bodybuilding, with pictures of Mr. Olympia stars demonstrating the
exercises.

"That's how I wanna look," Jason told me, pointing.

"Takes time and a lot of work," I said, making a decision to avoid the
issue of steroids until later.  "If you do these exercises you'll get
stronger.  But you can't do 'em all every day."

"Uh-huh, I know!  You gotta' like mix 'em up.  Like chest one day, and then
arms, and then like legs or something the next."

"That's right.  How'd you learn that?"

"I read it," Jason said proudly, waving at the stack of magazines.

"Well, you got it exactly right.  Where'd you get all those magazines?"

"My friend's big brother had some..."  Jason leaned toward me, lowering his
voice to a conspiratorial whisper.  "Some my friend and me, like, stole
from this store..."

"Yeah, well, let's have no more of that!"  Pulling the boy toward me I
tickled through the big loose shirt and Jason squealed, wiggling and
laughing as my fingers dug into his side.  "I can get you any magazines you
want," I told him, "As many as you want.  So no more stealing, OK?"

"Uh-huh..."

The boy lay panting across my knees, looking up at me with a smile, his
loose billowing shirt bunched up far enough to reveal the white underwear
briefs he was wearing.  His smooth legs, sturdy and perfectly proportioned,
glowed in the sunlight streaming in from the room window, every muscular
curve visible beneath the silky skin.  As I slid a palm on him, caressing
the warm satin of inner thighs, a bulge appeared in the front of his briefs
tenting up the cloth.

"If you wanna' be in contests," I said to him, "You gotta' practice your
posing.  I got something you can use for that - and for your workouts,
too."

Jason sat up.  "What?"

"Something you'll like.  Take your shirt off."

Jason started squirming out of the baggy shirt, got tangled, and let me
help pull it off.  My hands had already explored him on the plane and, as I
had suspected, Jason was extremely defined, his shoulders better developed
than most boys of twelve and his body lean and firm.  We both stood up and
Jason flexed an arm for me, trying a pose obviously copied from a picture
in one of his magazines.

"Not bad," I said, correcting the position a little.  "When you do this,
don't just make an arm muscle.  You have to tense up everything else, too."

"Oh, wow.  That's hard!" he exclaimed, trying it.

"Yeah.  It takes practice.  You got a mirror?"

"Uh-uh.  But there's, like, one in the bathroom."

"You'll have to use that, then.  You need a mirror to practice.  Plus, I
got this for you..."

My duffel bag lay on the bed where I had tossed it.  I reached inside and
pulled out the red thong I had bought at Victoria's Secret.

"A posing brief," I explained as Jason stared, wide-eyed.

"Awesome!"

"Yeah.  Lose the tighty-whities."

The boy stripped without hesitation, pushing down the white briefs and
stepping out of them.  The effort of posing and tensing his muscles had
softened him, but as I helped him get into the thong his circumcised member
lifted, swayed and then stiffened into hard, four-inch rigidity.  Jason
squirmed a little and bit his lip.  "I got like a boner..."

"Yeah, it's a muscle, just like all the others..." I rubbed the thick
little shaft with thumb and forefinger.  "You got a good one."

Jason posed again, thrusting his groin out proudly and squeezing his butt
to harden himself even more.  "Mine's like better than my friend's.  He
like gets stiff, too, but it's not as big."

"He showed you, huh?"

"Yeah."  Jason turned his head to peer back over his shoulder.  "My butt's
like way better than his, too."

"His is kinda' flat?"

"Uh-huh.  Mine like sticks out.  That's good, right?"

"Oh, yeah."

My palm slid around the curve of the boy's hip, gliding over glossy butt
cheek and cupping the rounded swell of firm muscle.  "Let the string back
here run right through your crack," I told him, adjusting it.  The thong
was the smallest size the store had offered and the fit was just right,
tight and snug, but Jason was having difficulty stuffing his rigid boy
stick into the little pouch.

"My boner, like, keeps comin' out!"

"It'll go down when you start posing.  You'll see."

We went to the bathroom to use the mirror and I taught Jason four basic
poses he could start working on.

"This is, like, so awesome," he told me, admiring himself.  "Can we, like,
take pictures?  I wanna' do some pictures.  I got a camera thing on my
computer!"

"I got an even better camera in my bag," I said.  "Yeah, let's take some
pictures."

Jason was ready to dash right back to his room, but I had him wait while I
checked the bathroom cabinets and found a bottle of skin lotion.

"What's that for, Jack?"

"You'll see."

Back in his room I got my digital camera out and while Jason examined it I
rummaged in the bag for my jumbo tube of KY, squeezed a glob into my palm,
added a generous shot from the lotion bottle and began to apply the mixture
to Jason's shoulders and chest.  "Hold still," I told him.

"What is it?"  The boy lifted his arms so I could spread the slippery stuff
all over his sides and chest.

"It'll make you look better for the camera.  It's not as good as oil, but
it won't leave a smell that your mom will notice."

Jason looked down at himself curiously and then let me do his arms and
back.  My hands worked their way to his butt cheeks, the edges of my palms
sliding in his crack, and he arched a little, squeezing to tighten himself.
Then as I did his hips he turned and I saw that once again he was rock
hard, the stiff jut of a rigid boner pushing aside the thong's satin pouch.
With a playful tug I slid my lubricated fingers on the stiff shaft and
Jason leaned against me, one hand slipping around my waist.

"Do that thing again," he whispered.  "Like yesterday..."

"First the pictures," I whispered back.

Using two more handfuls of the KY-lotion mix I did the boy's legs while he
stood with them apart, watching.  Then we hung the coverlet off his bed
from the top of the window frame, with the plain light blue side facing the
room and the edges tucked into curtain hardware as a temporary stay.

"What's that for?"  Jason asked when we were done.

"Backdrop.  Stand right there."

He took position obediently, thong again in place because he had gone limp.
I knelt, took a shot to test the lighting and then told him, "OK, do your
arm pose."

We got pictures of him in all four of the poses he had learned, with me
coaching as I took shot after shot from every angle.  Then I had him try
other positions: down on one knee, two knees, crouching, leaning back on
his arms, and finally lying on one side and then his back.  When I told him
to take a break Jason scrambled to his feet and came over to lean against
me while we reviewed the images in the back of the camera.

"I look good!"  The boy exclaimed.

I put an arm around his silky shoulders.  "Which do you like best?"

"Ummm..."

Taking the camera from me, he scrolled back through the pictures to one
where he was crouched on one knee, arms clasped behind his head and his
other leg extended out to the side with the toes pointed.  The difficult
pose emphasized his perfect symmetry and muscular definition.  Combined
with his sensitive features it produced an image of haunting beauty and
sensuality.

I nodded in agreement.  "Yeah.  That's a real good one."

"I wanna put it on my Facebook page!"

"You got a Facebook page?"

"Sure!"  He looked at me as if to say, 'Doesn't everybody?'

"Show it to me."

He padded over to the computer, booted up and used the mouse to maneuver
onto the Internet while I watched over his shoulder.

Jason's page was nothing special, a conventional site with his picture and
a list of interests: soccer and bodybuilding.  There were several other
photos, school scenes, a few candid shots from a soccer game...  and one
eye-catching image of Jason posing in his underwear briefs.

"The site is gonna' spot this and take it down," I warned, pointing.

"How come?"

"Your age, and too much skin."  I took the mouse and scrolled down.  Jason
was popular.  His page had a lot of "friends".

"There's, like, a lot a' kids into workin' out," he protested.  "They like
chat with me all the time, an' they got pictures like that."

"How do you know?"

"They e-mail 'em to me."  He lowered his voice, gave me a sly look and
said, "One sent a picture, an' he was like all bare.  He said he'll send me
fifty bucks if I send him one.  Can we like take some pictures of me all
bare?"

I gave his shoulders a quick squeeze.  "Sure.  But I don't want you sending
any out.  That probably wasn't a kid you were chatting with.  Odds are it
was some guy, maybe a cop."

"For real?"

"Almost certainly.  If you need fifty bucks for something, I'll give it to
you.  You don't need to be sending any pictures, OK?"

Jason thought it and then shrugged.  "OK...  But like..."

"Yeah," I assured him.  "We'll take some pictures of you bare.  Take the
thong off."

Eagerly Jason wiggled out of the tight scrap of satin and stood before me
naked.  He squirmed a little when I squeezed out more lotion to smear
around his groin.

"That tickles," he laughed, looking down to watch.

Within moments he was hard again, his thick little shaft so rigid I could
feel the throb of his excited heartbeats as I rubbed lotion on the slick
stretched skin.

"All set," I told him, wiping my hands off on the rug.  "Now, try your
poses."

Jason flexed in front of our backdrop and then looked at me in dismay as he
realized that his boner was not going to last.

"That's how it goes," I laughed, getting what shots I could before he
drooped.  "Don't worry about it.  Do the muscle posing first.  Then I'll
show you stuff we can do for the other thing."

For the next few minutes Jason tried different positions looking for ways
to display himself.  Then I had him lie down on his bed.

"Rub it up again," I told him, adjusting the settings on the camera.  He
made a little sound, like a giggle, and stretched out, sliding his fingers
on his boy rod until the shaft lifted into quivering rigidity.

"That's it," I said, snapping a picture.

The rumpled sheets of the bed made good enough background and I had the boy
stretch his arms back over his head.

"Yeah, lookin' nice," I encouraged, circling to take shots from different
angles.  Jason squeezed his butt, arching a little to show off.

"Now, pull up a knee," I told him.

The boy drew up his left leg, pointing the toe, arching once more as I
moved around triggering the shutter.

"There you go," I told him.  "That's how you do it."

"I look awesome," Jason breathed when he came over to lean against me and
we looked at the results.  I slid a hand down his silky back to caress the
glossy mounds of firm butt.

"Yeah, but these don't go on the Internet.  They're just for you and me."

"Just one..." he pleaded.

"Not even one.  And that picture of you in your underwear comes down, too.
We'll do a few shots with you in your soccer shorts instead."

"Can, like, my shirt be off?"

"Yeah, OK."

"Cool!  Thanks Jack!"  Jason pulled my hand down onto his hard boner and
then rubbed his palm along my arm.  I flexed for him and he pushed his hand
beneath my sleeve to feel the swell of muscle.  "You're big, Jack.  Can you
like pose an' stuff?"

"Yeah."

"I wanna see!"

My erection, which had been up for some time, suddenly became so hard it
was painful.  Jason stood rubbing himself, waiting as I undressed, and when
I slipped out of my boxer briefs, kicking them aside, he reached out to
touch my jutting member.

"You're real big, Jack!"

His small palm slid down my shaft sending a shiver through me.  My butt
tightened involuntarily.  For a moment or two he played with my pubic hair,
rubbing it between his fingertips.

"My friend's big brother, he's got hair."

"He showed you?"

"Uh-huh."  Jason's fingers slid upward, tracing the lines of definition in
my stomach.  "You're strong."

"As strong as the guys in your magazines?"

He thought about it.  "You're like real, an' they're not.  How come they're
like so bulgy, Jack?  Is it 'cause they, like, workout more?"

"No.  It's because they use steroids."

Jason looked at me in surprise.  "That's like drugs an' stuff, right?  My
friend's big brother said his coach told him nobody should do that, 'cause
it messes you up!"

"His coach is right.  Steroids are very dangerous.  Don't you ever use
them!  If I find out you're using drugs or steroids I won't help you
anymore."

"I'd never do that!"  Jason shook his head emphatically.

"That's what every twelve-year-old says.  Then he goes to middle school and
high school and things change.  If anyone offers you drugs, or steroids, or
anything - I want you to tell me, Jason."

"I will!"

"Remember, you can call my cell anytime."

"Uh-huh...  Jack, that big kid - my friend's brother - he like takes
special stuff...  Like some kinda' protein stuff."

"Yeah.  That helps when you're older.  But I got something way better for
you."

Putting an arm around the boy I pulled him close and Jason hugged against
me, pressing the full length of his silky lean warmth to my own.  "You're
gonna' get some Tiger's Milk."  I bent to kiss the top of his head and
Jason's arms tightened around me.

"What's that, Jack."

"Something special, just between you and me.  No one else.  It helps get
you real strong, and you don't tell anybody about it, OK?"

"I won't!"  The boy lifted his head to gaze up at me.

"Not your parents, not a teacher, not even your best friend.  Nobody."

"Uh-huh!"

"Come over here."

Steering him to the bed, I stretched Jason out on it, arms back behind his
head, and sat down to stroke a palm over the silky gloss of his chest and
stomach.  The boy licked his lips, arching to squeeze and make his rigid
boner strain upwards.

"First we'll do that thing like yesterday," I told him.

"Yeah!"

As I began to rub the boy pulled his head back, closing his eyes and
stretching his arms back even farther.  The coverlet was still over the
window, leaving the room dim, and light spilling in through the door from
the hallway gave Jason's smooth defined body a look of gleaming, sculpted
marble.  As my fingers slid on his rigid branch the boy made a little sound
of indrawn breath.  His hips lifted and I rubbed faster, sliding a finger
up over the circumcised tip on each stroke.

I felt Jason quiver and then the first throb pulsed at the base of his
shaft.

"Uhh..."

He arched up, straining to hold back, perfect body in tension and every
muscle showing.  He made another little moan of pleasure, his hips jerked
and a train of pulsating contractions throbbed beneath my pumping fingers.
Glittering arcs of milky fluid spurted from his slit onto his chest and
belly.

I kept pumping the boy, getting extra jerks by wiggling a forefinger in his
belly button.  When his hips finally stopped bucking Jason lay sprawled on
the bed, eyes closed, breaths coming in little pants.  Circling my palm on
him, I spread the thin strands of boy cum over his silky body, rubbing it
into the skin until it dried.  Then I tugged at his smooth shoulder.

"Now you're ready."

Jason let me lift him into a sitting position and then drew my hand onto a
quivering boy rod that was still hard and erect.  "Do that again!" he
begged.

"We will.  First I want you to do something."

"OK."  Jason rubbed his small palm over the muscles of my chest and then
down my side.  "You're nice, Jack."

I picked the boy up and placed him on his knees in front of me while I sat
on the side of his bed.  Jason reached for my jutting rod and began to
slide his fist on it.  "You want me to do it like this?"

"Yeah," I stroked his hair.  "But I want you to put the end in your mouth,
too, and hold it there."

Jason looked up at me.  "Is, like, the white stuff gonna' come out?"

"Yeah.  Tiger's Milk.  I want you to get all of it.  It'll help make you
strong."

"Uh-huh," the boy said, nodding.  "My friend's big brother makes the white
stuff.  He showed us."

"His is no good.  He's not old enough yet.  This will be a lot more and
it's exactly what you need.  But only from me, understand?  Nobody else!"

"Uh-huh."  Jason nodded again and leaned forward holding my hard shaft in
his fist.  After a tentative lick with the tip of his tongue he allowed his
lips to touch my blunt tip and then, opening his mouth, took it in.

"That's it..." I whispered, stroking his sturdy shoulders.  "Just hold it
there...  Yeah...  Now rub it...  Ouch!  Hey!"  I flinched just as the boy
began moving his fist on me.  "Not with your teeth, Jason...  Use your
lips."

He giggled, pulled his head back to look up, eyes sparkling, and then
leaned forward to try again.

"Yeah, that's it..." I said, stroking him as moist warmth engulfed my blunt
tip.  The boy's tongue curled around me as his fist began to slide back and
forth.  "Yeah..." I whispered.  "Yeah..."

It took almost no time at all.  Jason's manipulation was awkward and
inexperienced, but everything we had been doing had me so close the mere
touch of the boy's fingers might have been enough.  Within seconds the
pressure was there and I was squeezing to hold back.  I gripped the boy's
sturdy shoulders fighting an impulse to thrust deep into his throat.

"Yeah..." I groaned.  "Get ready...  Swallow all of it..."

Jason's small fist pumped in a herky-jerky rhythm and then his warm tongue
was swirling around my straining rod as pre-cum poured from the slit.

"Uhhh..." I panted.  "It's coming..."

And then it was impossible to contain any longer.  Contractions blew a load
into the boy's mouth, followed by more spurts as pulse after throbbing
pulse jerked me.  Jason's fist stopped moving.  He held on, making
convulsive efforts to swallow, but the suddenness of the flood overwhelmed
him.  Milky fluid ran from the corners of his mouth and there was a
gurgling in his throat.  Then, as my contractions slowed, he caught up long
enough to take a breath.  Squeezing to milk my shaft he licked the last few
drops from my slit, wiped his chin and looked up, seeking approval.

"Got all of it?"  I panted.

He nodded.  "Uh-huh."

Tugging at him I pulled the boy close and we stretched out on the bed.
Jason hugged against me, squirming to get comfortable and then buried his
head in my shoulder.  I was already softening, but his boner was still
rigidly hard, and I could feel the jutting little shaft poking me in the
stomach as I circled a palm on his silken back and butt.

"Only do that with me, nobody else."

"Uh-huh."  Jason squirmed again and then stroked his small palms on my back
and shoulders.  "I wanna get like all strong..."

"Like the guys in the magazines?"

"Uh-uh.  But not all bulgy."  The boy shook his head.  "I wanna look like
you, Jack."

"You will," I said, hugging him.  "But you gotta' workout everyday.
Different parts, like the magazines said.  Switching up."

"Yeah.  An' I wanna like enter contests..."

"We'll find some."  My palm cupped one of his glossy butt cheeks, massaging
gently, and then I wiggled the edge into his crease, letting it slide along
until the tip of my pinky finger was pushing on the puckered dimple of his
opening.  Jason's arms tightened around me.

"You got a cell phone?"  I asked.

"Uh-uh."

"Listen, I'm gonna' give you one.  It's only for you, so you keep it secret
from your parents, OK?"

"Yeah."  Jason nodded and drew a knee up onto my hip as my pinky finger
pressed into his ring.

"With the phone you can talk to me anytime.  An' I can let you know when
I'm comin' out here."

"You gotta' come a lot, Jack!"

"I'll try."

Jason hugged, squirming a little when my finger penetrated further,
slipping part way in.  "Check this out..." I said and explained how the
phone contact worked, how he could get more minutes whenever he needed
them.  "Plus we can chat online," I added.  "And you can send me pictures
of how strong you've getting."

"Yeah!" Jason pulled his knee further up my hip and wiggled a little as my
finger slid all the way into his moist heat.  "Jack?"

"Yeah."

"Do, like, the Tigers Milk thing again."  He rubbed a palm along my side
and hip.

"You want more, huh?"

He nodded.  "Uh-huh."

"This time you want me to do it so it goes all the way in you?"

"Uh-huh."  The boy's smooth hard body writhed against me as my finger
wiggled inside him.

"OK."

Withdrawing the finger I helped Jason sit up.  With a tissue from my duffel
I wiped off my little finger, grabbed the KY and then repositioned the boy
so he could reach my groin with his mouth.  Eagerly he took me in, licking
with his tongue while I leaned over, my palms gliding over the boy's taut
waist and glossy hips.  Applying lips and tongue to his hard stomach I
licked down and took all of his jutting boner and tight nut sac into my
mouth.  Jason moaned in pleasure, young sculpted body twisting beneath me.
He drew up a knee as I let his rigid shaft slip out through my lips and
then moaned again when I drew up his silken thighs, parted his butt cheeks
and licked across the dimple of his tight little opening.  After swirling
my tongue around its rim, I pushed into the tight ring and Jason wrapped
slim arms around my waist, hugging as he pulled my stiff shaft deep into
his throat, pressing his face to my groin.

Extending my tongue I slid it into the boy's ring as far as I could and
Jason squirmed to open himself for me, supple muscular body twisting in
passion.  We writhed, locked together, until at last I slipped my tongue
out, licked back onto his tight little nut sac and then took his quivering
boy stick once more into my mouth.  Jason sucked on me, head bobbing,
sliding me through his lips while I lubricated two fingers and pushed into
him.  As his ring stretched the boy stopped moving and I felt his lean
stomach tighten as he bore down to open himself.

"Uhhhhhhhhh..."

He moaned, body jerking a little.  Then my fingertips were deep within him
massaging his little nub and the boy shuddered with passion, straining his
thighs apart.

"Uhhhh... Uhhhhhhhhh..."

He slid me deep into his throat again, face pressed to my groin and his
arms tugging.  I felt a contraction pulse around my thrusting fingers and I
used my tongue on him, swirling it around his throbbing boner.  Jason
bucked.  Another throb pulsed.  Then he heaved up, jerk after jerk shooting
sweet watery boy-cum into my throat.  I kept my fingers moving in him until
the pulsing ended and then let the natural tone of his rectum push them
out.

Beneath me Jason lay sprawled, panting, small fist still clutching my rigid
member that had slipped from his mouth during the spasms.  He stared
upward, eyes unfocused while I gently moved around him, pulling up his legs
and positioning myself between them with the blunt tip of my rod pressed to
his opening.  The boy reached up, wrapping arms and legs around me while I
guided my shaft with one hand, letting the blunt end squeeze into his ring.

"Ohhhhhhh..." the boy groaned, and I could feel his stomach harden as he
bore down.  He was very tight.  I was almost sure I was the first to have
him...

And yet...

What things had he done with that friend and the older brother?

With a sudden popping sensation I entered the boy, penetrating into the
moist heat beyond, and Jason clutched at me groaning in ecstasy as my full
length sank in.

"Uhhh... Uhhhhhhhhhhh... Jack... Jack..."

Arching to lock myself against his stretched ass, I ground my hips, moving
my tip within the boy.  Jason's head pulled back.  Arms and legs tightening
around me, every muscle in tension, he heaved up, breaths coming in little
gasps.  "Ah...  Ah...  Ah...  Ah..."

Then he was bucking.  Pulsing contractions shot through him and I felt his
rigid boner throb in jerk after jerk against my stomach.

"Oooo...  Oooo, Jack..." the boy gasped.  I pounded him as fast as I could,
thrusting up and wiggling my tip.

Having shot once already it might have taken me time to recharge, but
Jason's heated young body writhing beneath me and the sheer sensual thrill
of possessing his hard smooth perfection rekindled my flame.  Squeezing to
hold back, I pleasured the boy into three more of his jerking, throbbing
immature releases before passion overwhelmed me.  With a surge precum
poured ran from my tip, my hips pumped even harder and Jason, sensed my
climax, clung desperately.  We heaved together, each holding his breath,
hearts pounding, teetering on the brink...

The boy jerked, jerked again, and then on and on, and I went with him, hips
bucking in thrust after thrust, my load spurting into his depths...

Afterwards, nestling in my arms, Jason let me kiss him and whispered, "The
Tiger Milk's, like, all inside me now, right?"

"Better believe it," I answered, stroking him.

"I'm gonna' get strong."

"Damn right you are.  You wanna finish your lunch now?"

"OK."

Reluctantly the boy let go of me and after grabbing some towels to wrap
around our hips we went down to the kitchen.  Jason crammed a huge bite of
pizza into his mouth, chewed and then asked, "What are we gonna' do now,
Jack?"

"Don't talk with your mouth full.  We're gonna' yank that underwear shot
off your Facebook page and replace it with a picture of you in soccer
shorts.  Then you'll do those dumbbell exercises so I can be sure you've
got the right form."

"Can we do, like, more Tiger's Milk?"  The boy asked hopefully.

I smiled at him.  "Not today.  I gotta' rest up first."

"Tomorrow, then?  You're comin' over tomorrow, aren't you, Jack?"

"Yeah."  Reaching out, I stroked the boy's hair.  "I'll come tomorrow.  But
only for lunch.  I'll bring you something.  But I can only stay for an hour
or so.  Then I gotta' go back to work."

"But, like, there'll be time, right?"  Jason gave me an anxious look.

"Yeah.  There'll be time.  And we'll have all day Saturday."

"My parents will be home Saturday!"

"No prob.  We'll meet someplace.  You'll have to think of something to tell
them."

Jason frowned, took another bite of pizza and then his face brightened.
"I'll tell 'em I'm goin' to my friend's house.  They won't check."

"Will they let you be gone all day?"

"Sure."

"Perfect.  We'll go to my hotel.  They got a mini-gym there.  You can work
out.  And they got a pool.  We'll go swimming."

"Yeah!"  Jason smiled as he thought about that.  "And we'll, like, do more
Tiger's Milk?"

"Sure."

We got up from the table and Jason came over to give me a hug.  "You're
nice, Jack."

"You're pretty nice, too, kid."  I bent to kiss the lips he offered me and
caressed his firm silky shoulders.

After helping with a quick clean-up Jason giggled, pulled off his towel and
then, butt naked, led me by the hand back upstairs.  As I followed,
watching the play of muscle in his pert little rear end, I wondered if
perhaps a third dose of Tiger's Milk could be managed.  Maybe, maybe not -
but one thing I knew for certain.  My customer's software was going to
develop the strangest problems in the near future - problems that would
bring me back lots more times...

I already knew how I was going to do it.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Hope you enjoyed it!  This story is the ninth of a twenty-four part series
that features the same central character.  There will be something for
everyone - single hook ups, doubles, twins, first times and hand offs.
Drop me a line if you have a favorite chapter (I do, but won't reveal it).
Look for a new chapter or two each month.

Extra tip for those who liked this kid bodybuilder story.  Try "Budding
Bodybuilder" by The Dip, posted 23 March 09 in the Young Friends archive.

----------------------------------------------------
Thanks for taking the time to read my story and if you'd like to comment,
my e-mail address is:

			   hunterjoe45@yahoo.com

I will try to answer all serious mailings.  My on-line access is very
limited.  Rants and ravings will not get consideration.

To all you readers who enjoy these stories, please support Nifty with
contributions and keep the Archive online.  Check the Nifty home page for
ways to make contributions.  Without this Archive those of us who write for
you will lose a wonderful resource to get our stories out.

You can find links to all my other stories on Nifty under my name, Joe
Hunter, listed under the J's (for Joe) in the prolific authors list.  To
get that list click the Authors tab at the top of the Nifty home page and
then select 'Prolific Authors'.  I hope you will read and enjoy!

All the Best.  Joe