Date: Fri, 17 Jul 2009 12:56:52 -0700 (PDT)
From: Beautiful Creamer <beautifulcreamer@yahoo.com>
Subject: Sissyboy Scenes

Sissyboy Scenes
By Beautiful Creamer

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story will be, I hope, the first of several briefer
pieces that are each centered around a single adult-youth fantasy, rather
than a full plot.  I hope you enjoy them!


Scene One -- The Farmer's Son

It was a dark and stormy night.

The kind in which travelling salesmen's cars break down outside remote farm
houses.

Which was exactly what travelling salesman Fuller Brushman was thinking as
he stood in the incessant rain that miserable evening, trying in vain to
start his car's engine.

Such breakdowns were an occupational hazard for the travelling salesman.
And most unpleasant.  Though, in Fuller's experience, they inevitably
occurred outside a farmhouse where sleeping quarters were limited and
eager, buxom, farmer's daughters were prolific.

Seventeen times so far for Fuller.  Seventeen spectacular, fuck-filled
nights of rural passion.  The salesman's cock twitched at the thought of an
eighteenth.

Had Fuller noticed the second disabled car 100 feet farther down the road,
perhaps he would have realized that this night would be quite different.

And far better.

With great anticipation, Fuller knocked on the farmhouse door.  Waited,
heard steps, then saw the door open to reveal the requisite farmer.

Good so far.

"Come on in out of that rain, young feller," the farmer said.  "It ain't a
night fit for man nor beast."

Still good.

"My name's Rube Hayseed," the farmer said.  "I live here with my
18-year-old, new wife Peggy Sue; my busty, horny-as-all-get-out,
15-year-old daughter, Mary Lou; and my 11-year-old son Leslie.  This is a
small farmhouse, only three beds..."

Fuller's cock swelled at what he just KNEW the farmer would say next...

But he was wrong.

"...and if you had been here 20 minutes earlier, you would be in my
daughter's bedroom right now.  Sleeping, of course. Instead of that
encyclopedia-salesman feller."

Oh no!  Missed it by THAT much!

Fuller was crushed.  Then he was disgusted.  Sort of.  When he heard what
the farmer said next...  "...so you'll have to sleep with my son Leslie.
He's a good boy..  Very affectionate.  And as pretty as his sister and my
wife."

Fuller was sick to his stomach.  He couldn't go back to his dead car.  In
the rain.  Rejecting the farmer's hospitality..  What if the word got
around to other farmers?  And Fuller wasn't welcome at farmhouses any more?

Unacceptable!

Maybe he could just "sleep" with the boy without doing anything gay?

That would be OK.

Perfect, in fact.

Except that option wasn't in young Leslie's plans for the evening.  In
fact, the pretty sissyboy was thinking only, "At last!  One for me, instead
of that greedy Mary Lou.  And my sexpot, hog-Daddy-all-to-herself
stepmother Peggy Sue."

Leslie had had "feelings" about men for as long as he could remember.  But
all the salesmen whose cars broke down on dark and stormy nights got to
"sleep" with his sister Mary Lou.  And ever since Daddy married Peggy Sue
six months earlier, he hadn't had any "quality time" for Leslie any more.

Such a shame too, since Leslie had targeted Daddy for "special love" when
Mama ran off with that bible salesman last year.  Leslie was making
progress with Daddy -- real progress -- even sucking Daddy's cock and
swallowing his thick, creamy load one spectacular night.

But the very next night, Peggy Sue took up with Daddy and the man was
"pussystruck" ever since.  Leslie knew that Daddy would be in for some
major nagging, manipulation and emasculation from Peggy Sue soon enough.
So did Daddy.  But he was enjoying the all-you-can-eat pussy while he
could.

Unfortunately for the pretty, young Leslie, his rural school's teachers
were all female and he had had virtually no "private time" with his boy
classmates.

So, Leslie was tenderly young, heartbreakingly beautiful, feverishly randy
and, except for that one, memorable paternal cocksucking, spotless and
untouched by man.

With the arrival of Fuller, worlds were about to collide.  And much spunk
was about to fly.

Farmer Hayseed ran off to his night of domestic, carnal delights, leaving
Fuller and Leslie alone to theirs.

If Fuller were willing to "try boys."

Though the man's instincts told him that man-boy sex was unnatural, illegal
and icky.

Instincts can be very deceiving.

Despite his reservations, Fuller Brushman took his first discerning look at
Leslie Hayseed.

And liked what he saw -- very much.

The boy was dressed for bed.  Or sex.  Or both.  Tiny, baby-blue, shortie
pajamas that exposed his long, doe-like legs; smooth, creamy arms; and
perfect, tiny feet.

Oh my!  Was that a little "tent" in the boy's pajama bottoms?

It was.

Was the tent for Fuller?

It was.

Fuller's penis stirred.  The man may not have known what he wanted, but his
penis had already made up its mind.

Fuller hadn't really looked at Leslie from the neck up yet.  Or considered
the glories of Leslie's bottom.

Leslie's neck invited soft kisses that would draw puerile moans of
pleasure.  As did his plump, gently swaying bottom, as the boy led Fuller
up the stairs to Leslie's bedroom.

The boy's features struck at the core of Fuller's idea of facial beauty.
Wide, deep-blue eyes that communicated an innocence of experience and a
lust to lose that innocence as soon as possible.  Plump, pink lips that
could make a man instantly erect if they brushed against his cock.  Cheeks
that could only be improved by a mask of man's cream spread across their
pink glory.

Oh my.

Why was Fuller Brushman, lifelong heterosexual, contemplating such gay
atrocities with this spectacular boy?  And why was his cock harder than it
had been when he spent the previous Thursday's dark and storminess with
Jenny Alfalfa, a 15-year-old with 42DD's and a giving nature?

Why did Fuller follow Leslie into his room instead of running down the
stairs, out the door and into a safe, non-gay zone -- his disabled car?

Did the lifelong heterosexual Fuller Brushman really want to fuck Leslie?

Preposterous!

Unless...

What if Leslie wanted Fuller to fuck him?  And the man spurned the boy
instead of sperming him?

How would that affect Fuller's standing among his travelling salesman
peers?  How would his colleagues, such as his best friend, Willie Loman,
for instance, take that?  If farmers couldn't count on getting stranded
salesmen to "perform" for their kin, wouldn't that upset a delicate
ecology?

Fuller's deliberations would soon be moot.  His cock would soon make
non-negotiable demands, because Leslie was beginning to display some of his
latent sexuality to his soon-to-be-willing prey.

Teasing.

As a prelude to pleasing.

"I'm sorry I only have a small, single bed, Mister," the boy said with a
smile that suggested he wasn't at all sorry..  "We'll be very close all
night."

Then he batted his eyes at Fuller in a way that made the man's hardening
penis twitch violently.

Then Leslie improvised "Phase two" of tease-a-palooza.  "Daddy says it's
not healthy to sleep with any clothes on.  Your body needs to be `free' at
night."

Leslie's Daddy had never said that.  Or thought it.  But it sounded right.
And it served Leslie's carnal purposes.

As the last phrase, "free at night," escaped Leslie's lips, the boy began
to unbutton his pajama top.  Slowly.

Exposing his flat, downy-smooth tummy.  And his little "cum-catcher" of an
innie belly button.

Then a pair of nipples fully worthy of Fuller's startled gasp.

The 11-year-old beauty's "little puffies" were spectacular!  Outsized.
Perky with Leslie's arousal.

For a drooling Fuller Brushman, resistance appeared to be futile.  And
stupid.

A wide-eyed Fuller awaited the imminent revelation of Leslie's
below-the-waist delights.

But no.

Leslie gave Fuller a full, gorgeous pouty-face and said, "Aren't you
getting undressed. Mister?  I would be so embarrassed if you didn't."

The smitten vendor ripped his shirt from his hairy chest and showed the
randy boy an excellent torso -- firm and manly.

It was Leslie's turn to gasp and the boy did just that.

Leslie trembled as he began to feel the full weight of his imminent
"predicament."  He was alone with a man.  Both he and the snorting, rampant
man were half-naked and about to make that fully naked..  No one would come
to his "rescue" if he screamed!  When Mary Lou's pussy was stuffed with
travelling salesman cock, she didn't hear nuthin'.  And once Daddy got into
bed with Peggy Sue, he wouldn't leave it to avoid a tidal wave.

Leslie was a mere sissyboy.  Tiny and helpless to resist the man's virile
ferocity!

All of which excited Leslie so much that he nearly emptied his itsy-bitsy
balls right then and there.

And neither he nor Fuller were even naked yet.

An easy fix.

Fuller looked with wide eyes as Leslie "shyly" turned his back to his
drooling "roommate" and slowly slid his skimpy, shorty pajama pants over
the twin peaks of his glorious, boyish bottom.  Baring it for Fuller's
visual ecstasy.

What a posterior!

Better than Jenny Alfalfa's by a country mile.

And apparently "unused" by man.

Fuller had just begun to form fantasies about how to give Leslie's bottom
proper "usage," when the fiercely blushing boy abruptly turned around and
showed Fuller his "boy's things."

Oh my!!

Leslie was severely excited.  As demonstrated by the full splendor of his
2.68-inch penis in complete, rock-hard arousal.

The sight of Leslie's deliciously stiff, gorgeous pricklet and dangling
boyballs dazzled the world's luckiest travelling salesman.

And, as we know, erections are contagious.

Fuller sported his own massive boner when he shucked off his own pants,
shoes and underpants.

That was Leslie's turn to be dazzled.

Fuller's cock was almost exactly three times the length of Leslie's pretty
tinkler.  And 2.5 times as thick!

An icepick of fear stabbed Leslie's virgin anus.  How could his
micro-pooper ever accommodate such a monster?!?!?!?!

It would kill the boy!  Turn him into fertilizer for his Daddy's farm!

Leslie was terrified, but the pretty boy knew that a sissyboy must not
think of his own meager needs first.  He must surrender to the needs, no
matter how painful and/or disgusting, of his man.  He must give himself to
his man -- even under threat of bodily demise.

It's in the Sissyboy Code.  You could look it up.

It's not in the Heterosexual Woman's Code, so don't look there.

See, I told you it's there -- paragraph 3a.

Anyway, Leslie forgot about self-preservation and began to revel in his
man's open admiration of Leslie's luscious body.

Time to stop looking and get cooking!

Leslie pulled back the sheets and got into bed.  On his left side.  Covered
by only a sheet.  Facing away from Fuller.

Fuller brushed away his heterosexuality and spooned behind Leslie in the
narrow bed.  His manly cock planted firmly against Leslie, smooth, creamy
back.

Leslie gasped at the sexual contact -- the first time he had "been naked"
with anyone.  Daddy just pulled down his zipper that one time and fished
out his stiffie.  Leslie had just sunk to his knees and worshiped Daddy's
big man-thing with his hands, lips, tongue and inner mouth until Daddy
creamed down Leslie's throat.  Daddy just slinked away after, ashamed of
what he had done.  Though his only crime was leaving Leslie unsatisfied.

That wasn't going to happen that night.

Fuller put his right arm around Leslie and held him.  So they wouldn't fall
out of the narrow bed.  Somehow, the man's hand ended up on Leslie tummy,
with the middle finger tickling Leslie's "innie" until Leslie giggled
sweetly.

Fuller's cock swelled and his balls ached for release.

It was time to cross the last line.

Fuller brushed his lips against Leslie's sweet neck, drawing a sharp gasp,
then a satisfied purr as the man escalated to soft neck kisses.  His huge
hand migrated to a new habitat -- Leslie's boy's things -- each of which
the man fondled with respectful awe.

The boy's tiny prick was blazing hot and twitched with lust when Fuller
caressed its shaft.  Saving the knob for dessert, Fuller rolled each
perfect pearl between his callused, gentle fingers, making Leslie gasp and
pant.

By the time Fuller pulled back Leslie's foreskin, then held the tender
prickhead between his thumb and forefinger, Leslie was groaning openly.
The boy turned his head back toward Fuller, silently begging for a kiss as
he shifted position to lie on his back as the man fondled and kissed him.

It was incredibly delicious.

Kissing.  Skinning.  Caressing the boy's most tender parts as their tongues
introduced themselves to each other.

Poor Leslie.

He wanted to save his first "boy's cream" for later..  Maybe when the man
was fucking him for realsies.  An orgasm which could punctuate his life
even as the huge cock was bisecting him.

But when playing well with others, we rarely choose the timing of our
pleasure.

Leslie cried out in a sissy squeal and heaved out six healthy strands of
boy's cream.  All over Fuller's hand, as well as his own tummy, chest and
even his boyish chin.

Fuller felt a small stab of fear.  Would the farmer break down Leslie's
door, brandishing a shotgun?  Protecting his son's tender virtue while
filling the vile defiler with buckshot?

Not bloody likely.

He held his breath for a five count and listened to the sounds of the
house..  Women, presumably Mary Lou and Peggy Sue, were squeaking and
squealing their way to orgasm.  One mattress, no...make that two, were
squeaking as people fucked frantically.

Fuller was eager to make it three squeaking mattresses and one squeaking
boy.

Seized by an impulse of passion, Fuller scooped up Leslie's cummies with
his middle- and forefinger and used it to gain entry to the boy's bottom
hole.  Leslie didn't resist; in fact, he raised his knees to make entry
easier.

Fuller had never fingered a bottomhole before.  And Leslie had never had
his fingered.

Both were deeply enriched by the experience.

Fuller had never thought much about prostates, but when he brushed against
Leslie's -- almost by accident -- he liked what happened.

Leslie's pretty eyes got wide and he cried out in delicious agony.  His
eyes filled with tears as he looked pitifully at Fuller for further
prostate abuse.

Though math wasn't his thing, Fuller could add two and two.  The boy LOVED
having his prostate massaged.  And Fuller LOVED pleasing the boy.  So the
man not only continued his ultra-erotic manipulation, he also, much to his
surprise, took Leslie's knob into his mouth and began to lick and suck it.
A combination that drove the boy half-mad with lust, until...

"Oh, Mister!" sweet Leslie screamed as he enjoyed/suffered through his very
first anal orgasm.

Everything went dark for Leslie and he felt his guts hurled against the
ceiling.  Metaphorically.  Otherwise, the story's over, right here.  And it
all becomes a crime scene.

Instead, it was a sissyboy scene.  And a darned good one.

Fuller was the oral beneficiary of a moderately creamy load of sissyboy
nectar.  The first of his life, though he vowed it would not be his last.
He swallowed every savory drop.

And considered the urgency of his own need.  He had endured an unrequited
erection for the past 93 minutes -- beginning with the first raindrop that
foreshadowed the inevitable "remote farmhouse" scenario.

Should he lie back and let this lovely boy suck his cock?  Or show the boy
who the master was by fucking his tiny asspussy?

Fuller wanted to be the master!

But he had never, sad to say, done anal fucking before.  A common lament
among hetero males, since women think it's "icky."

Mary Lou and Peggy Sue Hayseed were, as it turned out to the man-boy
lovers' good fortune, two rare exceptions.  Which meant that the farmhouse
was always well-stocked with Spermbutt anal lubricant.

A bottle of which young Leslie produced for Fuller's use, accompanied by
those words we all long to hear: "Oh, please sir!  Please fuck me!"

That settled that.

Leslie, though a virgin, was computer literate.  He had been reading about
bumfucking most of his life.  Had pictured this moment.  Ached for
it. Fuller was the last piece of the puzzle.

So at least one of them knew what to do.

Leslie stood at the end of his bed, placed his chest on the bed and held
his bottomcheeks wide open.  "Please, sir!" the boy grunted.  "Lube me up.
I don't want to die."

Fuller's swollen cock twitched again at the thought of his "monster"
putting this lovely lad in mortal peril.

What a brave young sissyboy, Fuller thought as he smeared Spermbutt on his
fingers and entered the boy's sweet pootie with them once again.  Finding
Leslie's prostate and giving it a full measure of sweet torment.

But even an anal illiterate like Fuller knew this was about lubrication and
dilation.  So he lubricated and dilated.

Which, though somewhat workmanlike, was still darned pleasurable for them
both.

Leslie's "little pickle" wasn't even hard, but from all the gasping and
panting, Fuller was pretty sure that the boy would be drooling out the
dregs of his testicles if he didn't stop his archeology.  So he stopped.

Fuller wanted Leslie's next cum to be cock-induced.

So he slathered more Spermbutt than he needed -- just to be sure -- all
over his "code red" cock, sighed at his unexpected good fortune, stood
behind Leslie's perfect bottom, lined up his shot and pushed.

Oh my.

Despite some excellent dilation and lubrication, the lovers were unable to
alter the basic law of the universe which says that two objects cannot
co-exist in the same space.

Said unscientifically, Fuller's cock was too big for Leslie's asshole.

We know that for a fact because 1) Leslie screamed as if he had just been
hurled to his death from a thousand-foot cliff and 2) the boy's "dying"
scream-words were, "It's too big!!!!!!!"

But don't they always say that?

Or don't we wish they did?

Leslie fully expected to be walking toward the light.  Watching people
gather for his funeral.  Hearing them say, "He was a good boy..  Not much
use around the farm though.  Kind of a sissyboy.  His Daddy said that he
fell on a machete and cut himself in half -- the long way."

But no.

He didn't die.

Though the pain was pretty bad.

And then it wasn't.

Was Fuller "all in?"

"Are you all right, Sweetie?" the considerate man, who didn't want to get
the electric chair for murder, asked.  "If you wait a minute the pain will
pass.  Then I'll put the rest of it in."

"THE REST OF IT?!?!?!?!?"

Leslie almost made a run for it when he heard that.

But darn it, he was a sissyboy -- not a wimp.  He set out to be fucked and
that's what he would be.

Leslie bit his lip, then mumbled out a scared, "OK, Mister."

Fuller shoved the last four inches in.  Drawing another agonized scream
from Leslie.  Slightly less soul-wrenching than the last agonized scream.

Another pause.  Longer this time.  With lots of whimpers.

Fuller's cock felt VERY happy in Leslie's scorchingly hot, vise-tight
bottomhole.  Truth be told, he didn't like hurting the boy, but he loved
dominating him.  Making him beg to be fucked.  Watching him submit through
his pain.  You just don't get that from women now, do you?

Fully seated, Fuller moved slightly, letting his large ballsack slap
against the rear parts of Leslie's dangling "pink purse."

Leslie stopped whimpering and gasped a little as lust replaced pain.

Fuller smiled.  It was time to fuck.  And relieve what had become a
terribly urgent need to "empty himself" inside this beautiful boy.

The first stroke was long and accurate.  Rubbing Leslie's prostate in a way
that widened his eyes and made him squeal with delight.

Pleased with himself, Fuller repeated Leslie's "prostate therapy."
Pleasing the boy as he pleasured himself.

Ten long, grunting strokes.  Then twenty.

Heaven.

Then Leslie cried out again and, while no thin milky stream issued from a
semi-hard mini-cock could be called "spurting," the boy orgasmed
magnificently.

Emptying his balls completely with the last drops of three cums in one
hour..

His cries and contractions drove Fuller to his own completion.  Making the
man heave a pint of hot, thick, man's cream into the boy's bowels.

It was, hands-down, the best orgasm of Fuller's life.  And Leslie's.

When Leslie's world-class bottom involuntarily rejected Fuller's spent
cock, a flood of mansperm followed its exit.

Messy.

But awesome.

The lovers kissed and made all sorts of seemingly unkeepable promises,
like, "As soon as I get my car fixed, Leslie, I'm coming back for you and
we're running away together."

Leslie didn't think Fuller meant that, but he was grateful enough to suck
Fuller's poop-stained cock to a second stand, which led to a second fuck.
Slower this time.  With two head-blasting, dry orgasms for Leslie and a
three-spurt sinus clearer for Fuller.

And you know what?

The very next day, Fuller got his car fixed, came back to the house when
Farmer Hayseed and his womenfolk were in the fields, gathered up Leslie,
and took him away from all that.

And they lived happily ever after.

Because Fuller's wife never found out that he had married Leslie in a
gay-friendly state and made him a "kept" sissyboy.  Kept and well-fucked.
With his own "new friends" when hubby was on the road selling widgets.


[Longer than I intended, but you get the idea.]


I welcome your comments at beautifulcreamer@yahoo.com.

Other stories on nifty:

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"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
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