Date: Mon, 03 Sep 2012 19:20:16 +0200
From: MICHAEL SOROS <bursa1994@gmx.com>
Subject: My Problem Part 3

Disclaimer: This is the product of my imagination. It never happened. None
of these characters ever existed and the town will be found on no map. Read
it as fantasy and leave it there.

As soon as the door of the surgery closed the doctor returned to the
office. Looking out the window he could see the boy walking up the
street. Or rather he could see that beautiful little round bottom walking
along the street. 'Hours of fun for all the family' with those peachy
little cheeks if he could get his hands on them - and he was working out a
little plan how exactly he was going to do that.

The kid was obviously receptive, loved having his enormous aberration of a
cock played with and had no objection to have his buns squeezed and played
with. And that sperm! Masses of it. He unconsciously went to feel his shirt
sleeve which was still damp. He knew a fair few men who would like to get
their mouth and hands on that one although who could drink all that cum
would be another thing. In a way he felt a little sorry for the boy -
dragging that long thick cock around with him all the time and having to
empty it so often because of those over active big balls of his. He was so
dumb he didn't know any different. The kid had nothing going for him - no
family to speak of, no money, nothing much in the brains department [quite
the opposite really] and was obviously desperate to belong, hence the
football even though he was dreadful at it. The doctor had seen him play,
or rather stand about on the pitch in a pair of tight shorts facing away
from the side-lines so the men standing there could get a good view of his
bum. He wasn't fooling anyone. It was so obvious.

The kid didn't do subtlety - or didn't know what it meant. He had passed
comments with the coach about him and a few dirty comments were passed with
Michael Durkan or Mike as he was known in the club. He was the club's main
sponsor and actually had some interest in football, but more interest in
the footballers, especially those in the under 16 junior league. None of
the girl's teams ever got a penny from his company. Resources were always
stretched he'd say - or rather his jeans were always stretched watching his
boys at play. He wasn't wasting money on girls. What was the point of that?
       Mike's fascination with boy cock was well known in certain
footballing circles in the town and in a few beyond. He could never get
enough of it and had organised his job and private life around it. He
employed 'stockroom assistants' who worked with him in the stockroom and
ferrying stock around the various shops in the surrounding towns. These
were the days when you could hire young guys for a few pounds casually
before the employment law got in the way. He never seemed to have a
shortage of candidates but was very choosy. Blond boys went to the top of
the list straight away. They had to be thin with nice slim waists. The most
important asset of course was a full plump cock that could shoot a mouthful
of spunk three times on a Saturday while working at the shop in the
stockroom. Anything extra during the week was welcomed too. Long stayers
got paid extra.

       Money wasn't an issue as his father and grandfather had built up
quite a thriving business in clothes shops in the surrounding towns. The
one in this particular town had the franchise on the club kits and the boys
school uniforms. Every boy had to purchase his school uniform from one of
his shops and every aspiring footballer had to get the team kit from one of
his outlets too. He never over charged as he was anxious to get the boys in
the shop as much as possible. He sold scouting uniforms too. The shop
occupied a prominent location in the centre of the town and consisted of
three floors. The ground floor he gave over to his cousin who had an
interest in youth fashions so whatever was in could be bought there - the
customers may have been of farming stock but they read magazines too. On
the left of the first floor as you entered you went up a wide flight of
stairs to enter the boys section where school uniforms (seasonal and took
up space for two months only) and boy scouts outfits were to be found. Most
of the floor was taken up by everything and anything connected with local
sport - kits, boots, balls, hurling sticks, rugby balls, cricket bats - you
name it he had it. And if Mike had an interest in it he had a lot of it!
Pride of place went to his under wear section prominently taking up half of
one wall. Every shape, size, colour or brand could be found and bought
there. He even sold jock straps [athletic supports he called them for the
mothers] for the boys on the cricket teams of the local Protestant boarding
school outside town, a very rare garment to be found in a small country
town. He had a lot of posters of boys posing in one pair of underpants or
another hanging on prominent display along the walls. They came free from
the manufacturers and looked perfectly normal. Only the better looking
models ever made it onto the walls of the sports department. The floor
space was sufficiently large enough for all the sections to be well spaced
out and sectioned off. Mike did this deliberately to allow the boys look at
the various objects on offer without having to feel they were being watched
by anyone else. He also kept a supply of underwear and sports kit
catalogues on the sales counter for the casual customer. They always seemed
to disappear but rarely did he see anyone take one. He wasn't
complaining. By the underwear section, near the back of the shop was a door
leading to the third floor. This was the stock room and office. It was also
Mike's world. It was into this world one Saturday afternoon that Derek, one
of the staff members, came running into looking for Mike. He knew where he
was and he knew who he was with and what he was doing.  He had been there
himself only 5 years before.

	The stockroom was quite long and piled high on both sides with
remnants of every school uniform, sports kit and underwear fashion from the
last 30 years or so. It never got cleared out. The shop had occasional
requests for 'back items' from a more mature customer than the boys
department catered for - i.e. 40 year old former boy scouts looking for
various items of uniforms that disappeared 30 years ago. For their sons of
course! At the end of the stock room, in the left hand corner, behind a
partition wall was where Mike was usually to be found at lunch time. Derek
shouted out his name. There was a phone call for him, from the
doctor. Derek rounded the partition wall and saw a beautiful romantic sight
- Mikes jean covered backside sticking in the air with two slim smooth legs
standing out from both sides of him with a pair of little white undies
around the ankle of one leg - and the usual muffled high scream moaning
from little Paddy Reilly.

Mike had been sucking off little Paddy for the last hour, as he usually did
at this time of the day. He was called 'little' Paddy to distinguish him
from his father, 'big' Paddy Reilly the rugby team manager. Apart from that
there was nothing little about this 14 year old at all - least of all his
teen boy cock which was bobbing up and down in the owner's mouth. Our
little stockroom assistant was - what is known in the trade as - a screamer
and made an awful racket when he was being sucked off. Only natural thought
Derek as he was being slowly and professionally sucked and finger fucked by
a seasoned professional who had more than 25 years experience of the
movements of teenage boys orgasms. The condition of the job was that each
boy would be sucked off for an hour leading up to lunchtime. They would be
edged nearer and nearer to an orgasm but only allowed to cum when Mike was
ready. Little Paddy Reilly was able to fulfil the 3 orgasms on Saturday
rule but holding out for the full hour was torture sometimes especially
when you had an expert sucker who had you nearly scraping the ceiling and
you thought you could shoot only to suddenly be brought back down again. If
it helped put the boy into an orgiastic agony then Mike would grease up the
boy's arse and slowly put his finger in to give a nice prostate massage to
make the boy even hornier. Some liked it some didn't, some preferred their
nipples played with or their bums squeezed or spanked. Mike was
flexible. The goal was to hold the kid off for an hour at a time. Little
Paddy Reilly had a pair of Tanga briefs shoved in his mouth as usual
because of the noise he made during sex sessions. There were customers on
the floor below! Lots of them. If Mike really was the caring and loving
cock sucker he made himself out to be he would not be greasing up the boy's
arse and running his finger around in rhythm with his sucking as he knew
full well it was pushing his boy over the sexual limit - hence the look of
pain on the boy's face. It wasn't pain of course. It was quite the
opposite. Mike could sometimes make out the words through the little briefs
in his mouth and it was usually "Oh my God! Oh God! Keep going! Don't
stop!" or words to that effect. Mike was pleased to help.

Mike hadn't heard Derek call his name as he was too busy getting Little
Paddy Reilly ready for his orgasm. He'd been sucking his balls and in
between his balls and thighs for nearly an hour now so it was time to give
the boy his orgasm and a rest. He was concentrating on the boy's cockhead
at the moment and sucking out any juice he could get with his very
experienced tongue when he noticed Derek standing beside him. He didn't
mind being watched but Derek was paid to work downstairs not get a free
show. He released Paddy's cock and looked up at his former sex partner of 5
years ago.

"The doctor wants to talk to you on the phone. Says it's urgent.  Didn't
give me a message. If you don't let him come now" he said pointing to
Little Paddy Reilly on the ground with a beetroot face covered in sweat and
the Tanga briefs saturated with spit "you're going to have to call the
doctor over to sort him out."

There was a loud 'plop' as the boy's beautiful 5 inch overly sucked red
cock fell out of Mike's mouth and snapped back onto the boy's belly. Mike
immediately grabbed it with his free hand and turned towards his former
assistant.

 "Tell him I'll ring him in about 10 minutes. I have my hands full at the
moment. I have to let this fella shoot now anyway. He has other work to do
in the stock room after lunch."

Mike intended to have a little pre-lunch snack now himself with Little
Paddy Reilly's boycream. For all his intense sexual feelings during his
sucking Paddy didn't shoot that much and it could be difficult for Mike to
savour the cum juices and roll it round his mouth with his tongue. Derek
turned and moved to go down the stockroom when he heard a very muffled
scream of one happy boy having the orgasm of his life! He smiled to
himself. So romantic!  Mike stood up, adjusted his crotch in his jeans (he
never exposed himself) and looked down at the sight before him. One long
slim 14 year old boy from the local rugby team. Smooth as glass with a cock
still as hard as a nail. He'd service him again at 5pm before the shop
closed at 6 although he was doubtful the boy would really be up to it. He
was sure that the boy had wanked off that morning before he turned up for
his Saturday job but he couldn't prove it. Those balls were running low on
sperm these days. His experienced mouth told him that it was generally the
opposite and they produced more cream not less until they were 16. Not to
worry though. The way things were going Little Paddy Reilly wouldn't be
lasting too long as junior Saturday stock room assistant. It seemed to be
getting a bit much for him. He's fast asleep now in a post-orgasmic slumber
and he wouldn't be good for much work in the afternoon either. Not a 'long
stayer' unfortunately. But he had a waist to die for and Mike loved getting
him to the edge and back again. Sadistic but nice. Now why was the doctor
phoning him on a Saturday afternoon? He would see him in the morning at the
matches and next week on the side-lines at training. What could be that
urgent?  Little could Michael Durkan know that he was about to meet his
match sexually, a teenage boy who could give him everything he wanted - and
more. After 25 years looking it seemed that he was about to get more than
he had bargained for! Be careful what you wish for - you might get it.


Hope you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing it.


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