Date: Fri, 10 Sep 2010 13:58:21 -0700 (PDT) From: Beautiful Creamer <beautifulcreamer@yahoo.com> Subject: Sissyboy Princesses 3 Sissyboy Princesses 3 By Beautiful Creamer One -- The Younger Boy Jamie Boffworthy's pretty eyes fluttered open to greet yet another beautiful day. Of course, when you're as gorgeous and sought-after a sissyboy as Jamie, every day is beautiful. Jamie's loving mother stood beside the pretty boy's bed and admired her only offspring. Thanking herself and whatever powers that be for her decision to raise the boy properly. No thanks to Jamie's worthless father, who ran off with the pizza-delivery girl when Jamie was seven and she was 28. If that despicable rat saw Jamie today, Mrs. Boffworthy told herself, her ex would be kicking himself for his foolishness. Mrs. Boffworthy's ex was vile, but he wasn't crazy. He'd be fucking his son's spectacular ass seven or eight times a day. No man who spent time with Jamie could suppress the urge to fuck him. That's how beautiful Jamie was. >From his pink, baby toes, to his intoxicating "boy's things" between his creamy thighs, around to his heart-shaped, man-luring bottom, back to his puffy, oversized nipples, then to his stupefyingly dazzling face, highlighted by huge, hypnotic, blue eyes and bee-stung lips that invited a man to surrender all for a mere kiss. [Sigh] Mrs. Boffworthy was an exceptionally beautiful woman, but men would climb over her to get to her son. Which once made Mrs. Boffworthy jealous, but since she had "sorted things out," made her quite happy. You see, Phyllis Boffworthy had discovered Jamie's "admiration of his own gender" one-and-a-half years earlier, the evening of her son's ninth birthday party. Going in to check on Jamie and his BFF Gary, who was sleeping over. The boys, it seemed, were quite naked and engaged in a very active game not often played at a nine-year-old's sleepover. Rather than scold the boys, she wished them a good night, then retired to her room to develop next steps. Her vision being quite clear, Mrs. Boffworthy had seen the way men looked at her son -- even at age nine. Many, if not all the men of Jamie's acquaintance -- "straight" or gay -- apparently wanted to slide their stiff cocks into her boy's tiny bottomhole. Being a "good mother," Mrs. Boffworthy had naturally been appalled at that perverse desire. But now, it seemed, Jamie was gay. So, no matter what she did, Jamie would soon enough be finding ways to accommodate men's "business implements" in his delicious anus. Why not channel all that sexual heat and energy into a program that would pay a few bills around the Boffworthy domicile? Goodness knew the Boffworthys could use the money, since that rodent, ex-husband of Phyllis's ran off. The next day, Mrs. Boffworthy told Jamie that she was fine with her son being gay. Which made Jamie happy. Though he certainly wouldn't have become hetero no matter what his Mom said. So all that year, until the boy's tenth birthday, Mrs. Boffworthy hosted lots of "active" sleepovers with Jamie's randy little school friends. Building up the boy's erotic skill set. And keeping him away from men until he was fully ten years old. Which was certainly old enough, Mrs. Boffworthy reasoned, to start earning his keep. After the traditional, tenth-birthday, naked sleepover for her son and five of his prettiest friends. After Mrs. Boffworthy had fed the boys a nourishing breakfast, sent them all home and laundered all the cum-drenched sheets. After all that, and only after all that, Mrs. Boffworthy introduced Jamie to Mr. Bigg. Mr. Bigg was Mrs. Boffworthy's boss. A very rich, very married man. Who had been drooling after Jamie since Phyllis had brought the boy to the company picnic two months earlier. Phyllis knew that you could read a man's intentions with a quick glance at his crotch. The result of Phyllis's "crotch literacy" was a plan to allow Mr. Bigg the honor and great pleasure of being the first man to introduce the prettiest boy on earth to the vast pleasures of anal carnality. In exchange for which, Mrs. Boffworthy received certain considerations. Three promotions in two weeks. A fully paid-up mortgage (28 years early). And a college fund that would educate Jamie through a PhD at any school in the galaxy. Mr. Bigg got the better of that deal. He got Jamie. And Jamie got Mr. Bigg. Man and boy became lovers in every sense of the word. Passion and true affection enough for a thousand romance novels. Sadly for Mr. Bigg, he didn't have the gumption to leave his wife and kids and marry a ten-year-old sissyboy. And his wife, while a bit careless of where the odd hundred grand or so slipped away to, was quite observant of where her husband was and wasn't. So Mr. Bigg and Jamie's close encounters were limited, having managed only two overnights, 23 uninterrupted love sessions of two hours or more, and several dozen furtive, slam-bam encounters over the past six months. [Sigh] Which wasn't all bad for Jamie after all. The boy loved Mr. Bigg, truly loved him. But he was too young and far too much sissyboy royalty to be tied down to one man. And Mom seemed to have no trouble finding him an array of handsome, wealthy and generous new manfriends. Mrs. Boffworthy was a strict mother in many ways. Family dinner, which usually included her widowed father, who lived across the street, precisely at 6:30. Homework before television. And no dating on a school night. Though Phyllis allowed Grandpa to "milk" Jamie when the boy came home from school -- to relieve the pressure in the boy's pink tee tees. With a nighty-night milking from Grandpa at 9 p.m., Jamie's school-night bedtime. Mrs. Boffworthy thought it was perfectly normal for her father to be wanking his grandson twice a day. She certainly wasn't going to do it! And she knew that young boys have needs. Mrs. Boffworthy had made it crystal clear to her Daddy that milking was to be the extent of his physical contact with his grandson. A rule to which Grandpa fully endorsed and swore to his daughter to uphold. Though even Phyllis extended the restrictions a bit to permit Grandpa to lick up the boy's creamy spendings after each heaving boygasm. Such an exquisite natural resource should never be wasted. And the nightly, grandpaternal goodnight kiss had evolved into a tonguey delight over time. Still...Mrs. Boffworthy felt perfectly secure leaving Grandpa alone after school every day until she got home. She shouldn't have felt all that secure. Jamie and his Grandpa were fucking. Every afternoon. At least three times. Thank you, little blue pill. Grandpa was a great fucker! With a very large, very thick cock. And a deep love for his sissyboy princess grandson. Let's remember that Grandpa was only 57, in tip-top shape, and had only retired early so that he could fuck his grandson every afternoon. So that's the backstory. Which brings us back to Phyllis Boffworthy watching Jamie awaken. "Good morning, Mom," the little mealtick... I mean "angel" said to Phyllis. The young beauty basked in the warmth of his mother's loving smile. She had a couple of "dates" lined up for Jamie that weekend that would keep the Boffworthys in high style until Jamie was in his 40s. But for now, "Don't forget to call Mr. Bigg, darling," Mrs. Boffworthy said. "He's driving to work and he loves to hear you when you make your morning creamies." Jamie smiled. Mr. Bigg loved him so. And, like any young boy with morning wood, he had a raging need to cum. "Is the Prostatator 3000 ready, Mom?" he asked sweetly. "Oh, yes, baby boy. I scoured all your favorite attachments and they've been soaking in Spermbutt anal lubricant all night. It's charged and on your dresser." Mom was da bomb! Three weeks earlier, Mom had surprised Jamie with a deluxe edition of the Prostatator 3000, which Jamie laughingly called his "prostate waterboarding" device. What it was was a state-of-the-art, fully personalized, prostate-stimulation gadget that, while expensive at $499, was probably the cheapest means for interplanetary travel ever invented. Despite her many faults (avarice, sloth, womanhood) Mrs. Boffworthy was sensitive to her son's needs. During the period between her husband's departure and her newfound affluence, Mrs. Boffworthy had often sought the comfort of her vibrating dildo. Now that she was socially and financially secure, she was more likely to spend the nights of Jamie's overnight sleepaways in the comfort of a voluptuous woman her own age. Though she did, occasionally seek out a fat cock to fill her wet pussy. But the Prostatator 3000 was no mere vibrating dildo! It was a merciless fiend that sought out a boy's most sensitive place, then assaulted it violently until the boy was a screaming puddle of anguished ecstasy. The various attachments, depending on the boy's tolerance to erotic agony, rubbed and vibrated and tickled and pistoned against the prostate in random, unpredictable patterns that had the boy's eyes drenched with tears as he squealed and squirted his pretty testicles completely dry. No substitute for being fucked by a loving man, of course. Though darned close. And better than some men for sure. That morning, Jamie chose the Prostatator 3000's spikiest knob, with the thickest, ribbed shaft. Mrs. Boffworthy tsked tsked a bit at that, then went over to close the soundproofed windows so that the neighbors didn't think she was murdering her son with a meat cleaver. She kissed her boy and left. Jamie had to pee, but he had to cum more. Peeing with his big stiffie would be a messy exercise, so triage dictated an orgasm first. Jamie's stiffie was, indeed, a quite respectable 5.1 inches. A trait that endeared him to his lovers because limp, he was a mere 1.9 inches. When sexual contact made him increase his size by 168%, he told all of his lovers, "You excite me so much, my penis overachieves!" Jamie got out of bed and walked over to his dresser and the Prostatator 3000. An implement of torture far superior to any medieval messing-arounds. On the way, he stopped, as he always seemed to, in front of his full-length mirror. To reassure himself that he was still the fairest of them all. Jamie turned this way and that in front of the mirror. Lifting the hem of his already-short nightshirt to expose his "pretty things." Then turning to examine the ass that men said defined "sodomy." He tore himself away from self-adoration, fitted the implements to the Prostatator 3000, and slid back into his bed, lying on his back. With his nightshirt pulled up to his nipples. Mr. Bigg had bought Jamie so many pretty nightshirts and he loved them all. They weren't quite girls' babydoll nighties, but they were close. Sheer and very brief. Silky and sexy. White, baby blue and yellow. No pink or purple because he was NOT a girl! Jamie put on his earphones and called Mr. Bigg. Hands-free phone sex is the only way to go. Jamie lubed up his stiffie with some nice Slickyboy masturbation cream, cleaned that off his hand with a towel and used his fingers to apply Spermbutt anal lubricant to his "pussy." Oh dear. He had to stop that or he would spurt right then. He was so darned randy. Grandpa had fucked him the previous afternoon, of course. Three times. And the sweet man had milked him before bedtime. He'd be by to give him a little after-breakfast milking too as a school sendoff. But Jamie was still quite needy. "Call Mr. Bigg, mobile one," Jamie said into his headset. One ring. "Hi, Baby!" Mr. Bigg said with obvious delight. "How did the love of my life sleep last night?" "I missed you last night, Daddy." Jamie replied. Jamie knew that Mr. Bigg's cock twitched every time Jamie called him "Daddy." "When will you be `making me happy' again?" he asked in his best pouty voice. "Good news, Baby! We can spend all night Sunday together. At your place." Mrs. Bigg thought her husband would be out of town making her more money. Jamie was genuinely elated. He cheered and gushed and praised his "Daddy." Then he asked in his best sweet angel voice, "I have to get ready for school soon, Daddy. Can you tell me how much you love me and how you're going to show me your love on Sunday night? I know it'll make me shoot a big gusher." Mr. Bigg wasn't the best dirty-talker in the world, but he made a great effort. From Jamie's desperate grunts and squeaks, Mr. Bigg was convinced that he was "killing his audience." In truth, Mr. Bigg could have been reading Jamie the telephone book. Jamie was in major erotic distress from the application of the Prostatator 3000's 24 spiky ribs tap-dancing on his prostate. The noises of his young lover's carnal suffering aroused Mr. Bigg's sexual appetite so much that he withdrew his cock from the trousers of his $3,000 suit and began to engage in an activity much more distracting than texting while driving. The man managed to grunt out, "And then, after I lick and suck each of your pretty toes, I'll..." Oh dear. Was Jamie, Mr. Bigg's eternal love, all right? It sounded as if Jack the Ripper were leaving the world one last victim. The fires of you-know-where had consumed Jamie's guts. He was screaming and shooting his cream in thick, insistent-but haphazard ropes all over himself, his sheets and the headboard. All because of his excitement at the prospect of seeing his lover again for a night of furious passion. Or because of the Prostatator 3000. Or both. Regardless, Mr. Bigg thought that he was what engendered the monstergasm. Which engendered one of his own. All over a towel that he had prudently laid over his lap and chest. Though the driver to his left did notice creamy ropes leaping skyward for almost a minute. Whew! Jamie was exhausted. He vowed to wrap up the Prostatator 3000, throw it into the river, and never speak or think of it again. A vow he made every day at that time. Mr. Bigg and Jamie got off the phone after a few kissy promises and Jamie resurrected himself to the shower. Mom was quite sweet about changing Jamie's sheets and rejuvenating the torture implement every day, so Jamie was sitting down to oatmeal and orange juice 20 minutes later. "You're dressing a bit sluttier than normal today, aren't you, Honey?" Mrs. Boffworthy asked good-naturedly. Jamie dressed minimally slutty every day when he went to school. Short-shorts that showed a lot of leg. Tight tops. Sandals that exhibited his pretty piggies. Much sluttier for dates. His shorts, often "Daisy Duke" cutoffs, for example, showed a lot of cheek. "I think I'm just growing and my clothes are getting too tight. I'll tell Mr. Bigg on Sunday that I need money for clothes.' Mrs. Boffworthy smiled. The boy understood. Fifteen minutes later, Grandpa appeared to give Jamie some nice tonguey kisses and a proper pre-school milking. Then Jamie kissed his Mom goodbye. "Remember, Honey," she said, "I'm off on Thursday afternoons now [another new perk her boss/Jamie's lover, had granted her]. So come straight home, not to Grandpa's OK?" That was a bit of a bummer. For Jamie. Not for Grandpa. The old codger had scheduled an after-school babysitting session with Jamie's BFF, Gary Jalebate -- one of five boys Grandpa had become "close friends" with through his grandson. Jamie walked the four blocks to school, enjoying the stares from the men who always seemed to be watering their lawns when Jamie was walking to school. He didn't like walking past the third block on his route very much. That was where those mean brothers lived. Spike, a 14-year-old 8th grader and Butch, a 13-year-old seventh grader, were the two biggest bullies in Jamie's school. They liked to call Jamie and his friends all kinds of hateful names. Mom told Jamie that she was sure they just wanted to fuck Jamie and were frustrated that he didn't give them the time of day, let alone some world-class pussy. As far as Jamie was concerned, Spike and Butch could just keep their zippers up. He wasn't donating his pussy to the Bully Foundation. That morning the two lunkheads were nowhere in sight, so Jamie arrived safely at school. Jamie mostly hung out with the other sissyboys in school. Especially at lunch, where some of the gay bashers/wannafucks would get a little nasty. Especially the Brothers Lunkhead -- Spike and Butch. Fortunately for Jamie, the gym teacher, Mr. Sodomsky had a free period during Jamie's lunch that day. So the boy didn't have to endure daylong celibacy. Mr. Sodomsky gave Jamie a vigorous seeing-to in the part of the gym where they stack the mats, then sat with him while the boy ate his baloney sandwich and apple that Mom had packed for his lunch. Reinvigorated by his 20-minute rest, Mr. Sodomsky gave Jamie a second creamy load to take to his seat in English class. Walking home from school that day. Things changed a bit for Jamie. Two -- The Older Boy To this day, 16-year-old Brett Hunkley isn't sure why he chose a different route to walk home from school that day. Maybe it was because he was distracted thinking about his girlfriend, Mary Jane Slutsky, who almost never "gave it up" for Brett, a good guy, but she always seemed to have a wet gash available for the school's bad boys. In fact, Brett knew he was supposed to be interested in girls, but after a series of adventures with the Mary Janes of the world, girls were slipping down on his interest meter. Though his cock still ached for friction and his testicles still needed to be emptied. What to do? What was this? Two vicious little early-teen thugs beating up on a small boy three or four years younger than they. No way he could allow that. "Hey!" Brett yelled at the two bullies. Which made them stop pushing the young boy for a minute to see who was interrupting their fun. Though Brett was focused on being ready to counter the two thugs if they attacked him, he couldn't help noticing how gorgeous the young boy was. Which surprised Brett no end. You don't think of other boys as "gorgeous." Wrong, wrong, wrong. But, darn it, the boy was. "Cut that out, you assholes, and move along," Brett said in the authoritarian voice he used as his school's football quarterback. The two thugs looked at each other and smiled. "Or what, Dickhead," Spike, the more articulate of the Neanderthals asked. "Or this," Brett said, stepping forward quickly and knocking two empty heads together. The dazed creeps fell to the ground. Jamie, who was, in case you didn't know, the gorgeous young boy in peril, rushed to safety at Brett's side. It was the perfect "My Hero!" moment. But there was more. "Is this where these assholes live, kid," Brett asked Jamie. Jamie nodded. "OK, jerkoffs," Brett said to the two bullies. "I know where you live. If I hear that you're beating up this kid or any others, the Gomorrah High football team and I will be back here with box cutters to slice off your balls and feed them to my pit bull. Got it?" They got it. "Where do you live, kid? I'll walk you home." Jamie had never been so sexually excited in his life! He had just been rescued by a rough-talking, athletic hunkboy! Perhaps Jamie shouldn't have shown his "appetites" quite so quickly, but he kissed Brett right on the lips, then clung to his arm and pointed him at the Boffworthy residence. What was that? Did that boy he rescued just kiss Brett on the lips? Was he gay and that was why the thugs were pushing him around? How did Brett feel about that? In a word -- aroused. His cock was outrageously stiff as he felt the beautiful angel cling to his arm as Brett thought about that kiss. Oh my. They were at the kid's door. Now what? Would the boy kiss him again? Did Brett want that? Yes he did. But it was horribly, abysmally gay. Thankfully (?) the kid didn't kiss him. What he did was open his front door and, without releasing Brett's arm, dragged the hunky teen inside. Where Brett saw a stunningly beautiful 31-year-old woman. Wearing a pencil skirt; black, seamed, fully-fashioned, reinforced-heel-and-toe stockings; and skyscraper, come-fuck-me pumps. This just kept getting better for Brett. "Oh, Mom," the pretty boy said, "those two animals, Spike and Butch, were pushing me and hitting me and this boy SAVED me! He kicked their butts, Mom! He's wonderful!" Mrs. Boffworthy beamed at Brett. "Thank you so much, young man. My son is so sweet, but he's a bit delicate. Perhaps because he doesn't have a father. It was so brave of you to rescue him. Thank you so much. We must give him a reward, mustn't we, Jamie?" Brett knew that he should have said something like, "Aw shucks, Ma'am. `Tweren't nothin'." And he would still say that if the offered reward were mere money. But something told the perceptive boy that money wasn't the subject at hand. And a "proper reward" from that gorgeous woman would be something to cherish in his life scrapbook forever. At that point, with Jamie's mother there, Brett was sure that a "proper reward" from Jamie, the reward that he REALLY wanted, wasn't on the table. Mrs. Boffworthy read Brett's thoughts on all that very clearly. So to tease him a little, she said, "I'll bake you some cookies." Brett's face fell. Cookies. That was the reward. Rats! Then Mrs. Boffworthy added, "I'll bake them during Jamie's nap. Sometimes after a stressful day at school, Jamie likes to take a nap. And this was certainly a stressful day. A proper nap is always more fun when it's with a friend. Would you like to take a nap with Jamie, young man? He could express his gratitude to you while you two nap. Why don't you run off and get dressed for your nap, Jamie? I'll chat with, I'm sorry, what was your name, young man?" Brett managed to choke out his name in response. But only just barely. Had she just said what he thought she said? The way Jamie was smiling at Brett and batting his pretty eyes at him... maybe... How could anyone have eyelashes as long as Jamie? The boy actually blew Brett a kiss as he left the room and went upstairs, leaving a lovestruck, confused Brett in his wake. With the indomitable Mrs. Boffworthy. Brett and Mrs. Boffworthy sat in the kitchen, chatting as if Brett weren't about to go upstairs and commit disgusting perversions with the woman's son. At least he hoped they'd be committing disgusting perversions together. If this were all a cocktease, that would be tragic. Jamie's mother, it turned out, knew Brett's family. "I'll call your mother, tell her that you're a hero and that you'll be staying for dinner. And, if you wish, breakfast. If that's OK..." Brett eagerly agreed. Breakfast. An all-night "nap" with Jamie? Oh my. The 16-year-old was in quite a "state" when Jamie reappeared. The sight of the young beauty, however, confirmed that cockteasing was not a Boffworthy family value. Brett's cock was clearly about to be pleased. Very pleased. The sight of Jamie that day...or any other day...would erect the entire male population of the world aged 85 and under. And around 75% of the rest of them. The sweet, grateful, eager-to-please-his-hero boy was dressed in his prettiest yellow nightshirt, so short that it fully exposed the boy's severely tented, yellow panties. Bare feet displaying magnificent toes. The flirtiest, knuckle-biting smile. Eyes moist with admiration of his hero. Brett actually moaned. Which elicited a giggle from Jamie and Mrs. Boffworthy. Embarrassing Brett. Making his face red. Until Mrs. Boffworthy said, "That's a perfectly normal male reaction to my son, dear. You two enjoy your `nap.' Dinner at 6:30, boys." And off they went. Jamie clinging to Brett's arm. Leading him upstairs. Into Jamie's bedroom. The Holy of Holies. Barely aware of his surroundings, an aroused/dazed Brett was still able to notice that the room was quite unmasculine. Not quite feminine either. Frills here and there. But boyish touches too. Lots of framed pictures of men. Smiling men. And a funny looking black thing plugged into a charger... What did it say? Prostatator 3000? The most prominent feature in Jamie's room was the bed. King-size. Which was weird for a 10-year-old boy. Unless... Were all those men in the pictures and Jamie...? On that king-sized bed...? "We never take naps with our clothes on, Brett," Jamie said poutily. Oh. He was supposed to take his clothes off. Jamie would see his raging erection. Which was pretty obviously tenting his trousers already. Brett removed his shirt and undershirt. Did Jamie actually lick his lips? Oh my. Brett removed his shoes, socks and trousers in that order. Standing with the prettiest sissyboy on earth. Wearing only boxers. "I see that you like me, Brett," Jamie teased. Brett's cock was all but ripping through his boxers. Still, he was nervous about taking them off. Until Jamie asked, "We could take our undershorts off at the same time, Brett. Or would you like to take my panties off for me first?" Brett wanted that more than he wanted his next breath. But he was suddenly in no rush. Brett manned up and took Jamie into his arms. Kissing the boy and feeling Jamie actually swoon when their lips met. No girl of Brett's acquaintance was a swooner. History does not record who donated his tongue to the other first. But soon enough both tongues were dancing through a ravenous kiss. During which Jamie unsnapped Brett's boxers, allowing them to drop to the floor. And Brett eased his lover's panties down so that the boy's precious cheeks were bare against Brett's roaming hands. Homosexuality was a lot of fun so far. Jamie's panties were eventually allowed to flutter to the floor, puddling atop his pretty toes. Naked cocks rubbed belly to belly. As is inevitable with the young and the randy, sperm eruptions happened. Brett first. Making him cry out in at least a semblance of manliness. Followed soon after by Jamie's sissyish gurgles of passion as he spunked all over his young man's hairy stomach. Long accustomed as he was to the sexual capabilities and customs of mature men, Jamie anticipated a cool-down period of at least 30 minutes. During which there would be some sweet kissing, licking and sperm consumption until further combat could be joined. Imagine the young beauty's sweet surprise when the callow-but-potent, 16-year-old Mr. Hunkley didn't even soften in his southern climes! Brett was hotter than before he spunked. And eager to show his new lover how a REAL MAN does business. Oh dear, Jamie thought. I think I'm about to be fucked. With very few preliminaries. Well, if it's inevitable. "I already lubed myself in my `pussy,' Brett. But please rub some of that Spermbutt stuff on your cock before you put that big, hot, hard thing inside of me. You'll kill me if you don't. It's over there on the nightstand." And so it was. Brett lathered up his stiffie with the oddly-named gel. Spermbutt. They actually made a product so you could fuck boys anally? Wow. Jamie was offering no coquettish resistance. In fact, as Brett lathered up, the boy was on his back, on his bed, nightshirt pulled up to expose his puffy nipples, two pillows under his hips, knees up. Displaying what he had just called his "pussy." It was just like a "real" pussy, Brett thought. Only better. Brett was ready and randy. As was Jamie. Oh wow. Jamie was actually whimpering to be fucked. Whimpering! This was better than he had ever imagined sex to be. Though he wasn't sure how good a boy's asshole would feel to his... Oh!! Better! Better than a girl's pussy. Tighter. Much tighter. With a completely different "grip." Now that was fucking, ladies and gentlemen. Brett pushed and pulled. Making Jamie squeal in erotic appreciation. Brett contorted himself a bit to be able to kiss and lick Jamie's very erect left nipple. He was going to have to give them a lot more attention soon. Then, surprising himself, Brett scooped a bit of their comingled sperm from his belly and began to skin his loverboy's knoblet with it as they fucked. Kissing Jamie. Skinning his peener. Rubbing his fat cock along the boy's recently-abused-and-eager-for-further-abuse prostate. Soon enough, Jamie screamed out Brett's name, then pumped out four very respectably creamy cum ropes as he shuddered through a massive climax. Brett responded with his own grunting, desperate spunking of his lover's innards. Heaving his manly sperm into the best place Brett's cock had ever been. Both lovers had a sheen of perspiration on them as they lay side by side. Kissing and giggling softly at their great fortune in finding each other. Five quiet minutes. With Brett nursing on Jamie's hard, brown nipples. Then they were sexually hungry again. Jamie actually managed a blush when he proposed, "I'll suck your thing if you suck mine." An excellent suggestion, Brett thought. One that should be enjoyed simultaneously. Even though he had never before sucked a cock. And Jamie would be [gulp] licking a cock that was reeking with sperm and even Jamie's own anal juices. Brett moved into a 69 position, surprising and delighting Jamie, whose lovers usually liked sequential fellatio, Jamie's drooling peehole looked Brett in the eye. Was it winking at him? Flirting with him? Oh my. The boy's bumhole was leaking cum. Brett's cum. From when Brett had just fucked him. In his ass. Oh my. Kansas was nowhere on the map. How does one do this? OK, I'll just... Whoa. Jamie was changing the rules. Instead of sucking Brett's cock, he was bathing his young man's balls with his tongue! That was awesome! Oh! Something else. Was he? Jamie had stuck his tongue into his new boyfriend's hairy hole!!! And was licking it out. Disgusting. Perverse. Disgustingly perverse. And the most exciting thing that anyone had ever done for him. As he tongued Brett's anus, Jamie skinned his man's knob most lusciously. So well, in fact, that Brett forgot all his original intentions for a 69 and just tried to hold back from cumming for a few more... Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Brett was spunking all over the place. From "enduring" something no girl would have ever made him endure. At that moment, Brett's troublesome heterosexuality departed his body. Fully exorcised by a beautiful, sissyboy princess. Whose cum-drooling bottom he would soon lick and then fuck. Twice more before 6:30 dinner. And numerous times that magnificent night. Once you have found your sissyboy princess, never let him go. I welcome your comments at beautifulcreamer@yahoo.com. Other stories on nifty: "Sweetyboys" (gay young friends) August 31, 2007 "Boarding-School Bedmates" (bisexual adult-youth, though it's quite gay) May 5, 2008 "After-School Stroke Club" (gay high school) May 28, 2008 "Pretty" (gay adult-youth) May 21, 2008 "Hotel Management" (gay adult-youth) June 2, 2008 "Dating Pretty Boys" (gay young friends) July 2, 2008 "Sissyboy Stepson" (gay adult-youth) July 30, 2008 "Sissyboy Showoff" (gay adult-youth) August 14, 2008 "Sissyboy Sleepover" (gay incest) August 26, 2008 "Cockteaser's Comeuppance" (gay adult-youth) September 5, 2008 "Schoolboy Pleasures" (gay adult-youth) October 23, 2008 "Home-Schooled Sissyboys" (gay incest) October 25, 2008 "Sissyboy-Daddy Reunion" (gay incest) November 24, 2008 "Sissyboy Shooting Lessons (gay adult youth) December 4, 2008 "Stepson Seduction" (gay incest) December 13, 2008 "The New Sissyboy" (gay incest) December 22, 2008 "Sissyboy Hangout" (gay incest) February 13, 2009 "The Little Prickpleaser" (gay incest) February 20, 2009 "Twelve" (gay incest) March 10, 2009 "Sissyboy Facts of Life" (gay incest) March 11. 2009 "Lord Upcock's Darlings" (gay adult-youth) March 12, 2009 "Sissyboy Spunk Party" (gay adult-youth) March 20, 2009 "Corporate Cockpleasers" (gay adult-youth) April 1, 2009 "Sissyboy Nephews" (gay incest) May 5, 2009 "Sissyboy Pediatrics" (gay adult-youth) May 14, 2009 "Next-Door Sissyboy" (gay incest) May 19, 2009 "Sissyboy Sanctuary" (gay adult-youth) May 20, 2009 "Sissyboy Prom Night" (gay incest) June 20, 2009 "Model Sissyboy" (gay adult-youth) November 5, 2009 "Try Men" (gay adult-youth) January 5, 2010 "Sissyboy Spinoffs" (gay adult-youth) January 15, 2010 "Sissyboy Restitution" (gay adult-youth) January 27, 2010 "Sissyboy Spinoffs" (gay adult-youth) January 28, 2010 "Sissyboy Wives" (gay adult-youth) February 3, 2010 "Secret Sissyboys" (gay adult-youth) April 8, 2010 "Sissyboy School Spirit" (gay adult-youth) May 5, 2010 "Try Boys" (gay adult-youth) May 26, 2010 "Try Men" (gay adult-youth) June 21, 2010 "Teaching Sissyboys" (gay adult-youth) July 26, 2010 "Sissyboy Scenes" (gay adult-youth) August 26, 2010