Date: Tue, 17 Aug 2010 09:47:11 -0700 (PDT)
From: Beautiful Creamer <beautifulcreamer@yahoo.com>
Subject: Sissyboy Scenes 15

Sissyboy Scenes 15
By Beautiful Creamer


The Cream Theme Park

Carlos Puerito was an inner-city kid living the summer dream.

At least for three weeks of that summer when he was 11 years old.

The Shagall Foundation's annual Fresh Summer Air program had reached out to
Carlos's mom and dad and offered the boy an all-expenses-paid,
get-out-of-the-city-and-live-it-up award.  And The Pueritos didn't even
have to apply for it.  A nice man just showed up at the house one day in
April, spoke to Carlos and his parents and signed the boy up for the
program.

Carlos was a bit surprised, since he thought that sort of things went to
the really poor kids -- the Pueritos were solidly middle class.  Or maybe
to the best students -- Carlos was middle class in his studies too.

But hey, he wasn't thinking about the whys at all when he packed his stuff
and got on the bus that day with 39 other excited boys who were, Carlos
guessed accurately, aged 10 to 12.

Carlos didn't know anyone so he sat next to a very pleasant young Anglo boy
named Rusty Swisher.

Like Carlos, Rusty had no idea why he had been selected, but he was eager
to get to the park and start having fun.

Having a curious nature, Carlos looked at the boys on the bus and tried to
determine what was similar about them.  They were ethnically diverse, but
other than age, Carlos couldn't see similarities.  Unless...

Could that be it?

Carlos' theory, not that it mattered or anything, was that the boys were
all fit and attractive.  In fact, Carlos couldn't remember seeing as many
pretty boys in one place ever.

But it was probably just a coincidence.

The theme park was located four hours north of the city and the bus pulled
into the parking lot at around one p.m.

The boys oohed and aahed as they saw the roller coaster and ferris wheel
towering over the grounds.  But best of all were the water facilities -
huge chutes and ladders where boys could frolic and splash.


The bus stopped and Rusty, Carlos and the other boys couldn't wait to get
out and get wet!

But first...

The bus door opened and an authoritative man got on to address the boys.
He was tall and broad-shouldered and his smile looked warm but firm.  "I'm
Mr.  Pubistic, boys.  I run Shagall Foundation Park.  Welcome to you all.
We're very glad that you'll be getting fresh air and sunshine with us for
the next three weeks.  The driver will take you to where you'll sleeping,
then you can all join me for some water park fun.  Did everyone enjoy the
ride and the box lunch?"

The boys all cheered.  Eager to get moving.  Mr. Pubistic got off the bus,
which took the boys to the building where they would be sleeping.  In one
large, air-conditioned bay with 40 beds.  Everyone fished in their bags for
bathing suits until...

Mr. Pubistic walked in.

He was naked!  And his big cock was semi-erect.

Huh?

The boys stared.  And many trembled.

"Sorry, boys.  I neglected to tell you.  We don't wear swimsuits at Shagall
Foundation Park, since it's just us guys here.  But you don't have to swim
if you don't want to."

Carlos and Rusty looked at each other.

"I really want to go swimming," Carlos said.

Rusty agreed.

So they overcame their reservations and stripped naked.  As did the other
38 young beauties.

Creating quite a tableau of boyish beauty in that XXL dorm room.

Though the boys tried hard not to look at each other, and therefore ever
after be accused of being gay.

Mr. Pubistic looked.  With great satisfaction.

He was proud of the great group of pretties he had assembled for that
three-week cycle.  He knew his boss, Mr. Shagall, would be proud.


So one by one, the self-consciously naked boys left the dorm room and
followed Mr. Pubistic to the water park.  Where one last hurdle stood
between them and the slides and ladders.

When all the boys were assembled, Mr. Pubistic spoke to them.  "We promised
your mothers and fathers that we'd return you in a healthy condition.  We
want you to go home in three weeks with an all-over tan, not an all-over
burn.  So before you go outside, you're all putting on our water-resistant
sunscreen cream."

Carlos looked at Rusty.  That seemed reasonable to them.  Especially since
they would be exposing parts that had never felt the sun.

Mr. Pubistic continued.  "It's been our experience that a boy is usually in
too big a hurry to cover himself with sunscreen properly, so we use the
buddy system.  Every boy will match up with a buddy and you'll rub the
lotion on each other.  Covering ALL of each other's bodies.  Then you'll be
checked by my assistants, counselors Uncle Shawn and Uncle Brad, who are
standing over there before you can go out.  Everyone take a bottle of
sunscreen and let's get going.  It's a beautiful, sunny day, boys!"

Carlos looked at Rusty again.  That didn't seem reasonable to either of
them.  Did Mr. Pubistic really expect boys to rub sunscreen lotion ALL OVER
each other?

How gay was that?

And what about those two guys Mr. Pubistic said were his "assistants,"
Uncle Shawn and Uncle Brad?

"Uncle" Shawn was a six-foot-three, completely naked, six-pack-abbed, black
man with an enormous cock that was standing tall and dripping in the
presence of all that naked beauty.  "Uncle" Brad was his white fraternal
twin, with an even bigger cock and a leer that said something like, "I know
you boys think I'm hot."

Or so Carlos imagined.

Though he dismissed all that soon after he thought it.

These men are grown-ups, Carlos thought.  And this is a perfectly
legitimate operation.  His parents would never send him here for three
weeks just to get rid of him.  Without checking things out.

No way.

So thinking he'd better get with the program, he grabbed two bottles of
sunscreen, one for him and one for his buddy -- Rusty.


Carlos noticed that he wasn't the first to accept Mr. Pubistic's rules.  A
very pretty, very unmanly blond boy seemed eager for the
semi-gay-but-necessary-for-health-reasons fondling that was imminent.

Odd.

Rusty took Carlos's lead and before long they were rubbing sunscreen over
each other's chests and backs and even legs.

Carlos had to admit that it felt really good.  His cock admitted it as
well.  It was stiff and drippy.  As was Rusty's.

Which embarrassed both boys.

Neither was willing to rub sunscreen onto each other's bums, inner thighs
or other private parts.  Which presented a problem for them and a happy
circumstance for Uncle Shawn when the boys presented themselves for
inspection.

"You missed a lot of places, boys.  But never mind.  I'll take care of it,"
Uncle Shawn said.

At which point, Uncle Shawn outrageously began to rub sunscreen all over
Carlos's pink bottomcheeks!  And, worse, BETWEEN his bottomcheeks!  Worst
of all, Uncle Shawn's meaty paws gently rubbed lotion onto Carlos's inner
thighs and even [gasp!] his penis and testicles!!!

It was humiliating.  And Carlos thanked whatever Gods that be that he
didn't abjectly humiliate himself by spunking.  Which he very nearly did.

Poor Rusty received no such blessing from above.  The mortified lad shot
three thick cum ropes when Uncle Shawn rubbed him up for the sun.  Pleasing
Uncle Shawn immensely.

Carlos pretended not to notice.  There was a lot of other "pretending not
to notice" that day as 18 of the 40 boys shot their stuff when Uncle Shawn
or Uncle Brad handled their privates.

Carlos did notice that the aforementioned blond beauty spunked seconds
after Uncle Brad began to prepare him for the sun.  And the boy showed no
shame.  In fact, it seemed that he wanted Uncle Brad to kiss him or
something.

But that rubbing-up preparation was all behind Carlos and Rusty.  And the
water park was magnificent.

After three rowdy hours of it all, Carlos and Rusty had begun to grow
accustomed to their nudity.

Which was a good thing because when afternoon water park was over,
Mr. Pubistic announced that due to a "laundry malfunction" the boys were
going to have to stay nude a while longer.  The men, in solidarity with the
boys, would do the same.

Hmmmm.

Carlos was beginning to suspect that maybe things at Shagall Foundation
Park weren't completely as they'd been told.

None of it bothered "Blond Beauty," who introduced himself to Carlos and
Rusty as "Danny."

Danny seemed quite happy to be nude and among boys who were equally
starkers.

"Isn't it great?" Danny said to Carlos and Rusty.  "It's so free and
liberating.  Like a European beach."

Neither Carlos nor Rusty had ever gotten any closer to Europe than First
Avenue, but Danny seemed to know what he was talking about.

After the boys showered up and dried off, they ate a very good dinner in
the camp dining hall, then settled in for some evening activities of
foosball, billiards and video games, until 9 p.m., at which time all the
boys tinkled and went to their bunks.

Carlos had Rusty on his left and Danny on his right.  Everyone was really
tired, so Carlos and Rusty went to sleep almost immediately.

Until Carlos, a light sleeper, was awakened by Danny getting out of his
bed.

Probably to go to the bathroom, Carlos thought sleepily.

But what if it wasn't?

Curiosity forced Carlos to get out of bed and stealthily follow Danny out
of the dorm room.

Danny turned right, rather than to the left where the bathroom was.

Hmmmm.

Wasn't that where Mr. Pubistic, Uncle Shawn and Uncle Brad slept?

Carlos watched Danny slip into a room.

This is the point where everyone in the audience is yelling, "Don't
follow!"

Carlos followed.

The door was marked, "Uncle Brad.  Please come in."

Wasn't Uncle Brad the assistant who had rubbed sunscreen on Danny and made
him shoot his stuff?  Hadn't Carlos seen Uncle Brad saying something to
Danny afterwards and Danny smiling and nodding?

Hmmmm.

The door was open two inches.

Should Carlos look in?

Let's say he should.

He looked.

And singed his eyeballs.

Naked (naturally) Uncle Brad was sitting on the end of his bed.  Danny was
kneeling between Uncle Brad's legs, his pretty bum aimed at the door.
Danny had Uncle Brad's huge cockhead in his mouth!

In his mouth!!

Uncle Brad didn't see Carlos because his eyes were closed and he was kind
of concentrating on more important things.

Carlos gasped.

Then withdrew and half-ran back to his bed.

Had anyone heard him?

Had anyone seen him?

He didn't think so.

Well...

Carlos was going to have to keep his distance from Danny and Uncle Brad,
that was for sure.  They were both GAY!!

Not that there's anything wrong with it.

But Carlos was NOT gay.

And he didn't want gay cooties from that boy and that man.

With that resolution firmly in mind, Carlos fell asleep.



Two -- First Contact

Carlos was looking at Danny, who was on his knees.  Sucking a
cock. Carlos's Daddy's cock!  Daddy was groaning and spunking into Danny's
mouth and all over the blond beauty's pretty face.

They were like two animals.  It was so gay and disgusting.  And then they
both noticed Carlos in the room and looked at Carlos.  Daddy smiling at his
son with sexual gratification and Danny giving Carlos a big, cummy, "you're
next" grin.

It was all so horrible, yet Carlos was cumming.  Hard.  He was so ashamed
and so angry at himself and Daddy.  Succumbing to that gay little slut
Danny.

And then he woke up.

Sitting straight up in bed.

His forehead bathed in sweat.

And his sheets bathed in boy's cream.

A wet dream.

A gay wet dream.

Horrible.

And it was all that Danny person's fault.

Though a quick visual check told Carlos that Danny was in his own bed.
Alone.  Sleeping the sleep of the innocent.

Carlos looked at the dorm-room clock.  3:22 a.m.

He couldn't go back to sleep bathed in cum.

So he got up to go the bathroom to wash himself off.

The disturbed, naked boy padded out of the room and down the hall to the
nicely appointed, impeccably clean, communal bathroom.

There were sinks, soap and paper towels.  Just what he needed.

He began to clean the cum from his stomach until the door opened and...

"Are you OK?"

It was Danny!

Erect as usual, impossibly pretty, gay slutboy Danny.

The last person Carlos wanted to see.

Still, it was a caring question and deserved an answer.

"I'm OK, thanks.  Just needed to clean up.  I had an accident."

Danny smiled.  "I used to have those `accidents' every night until I got
smart about things."

Carlos frowned.  Thinking that by "smart," Danny meant "gay."

But Danny seemed genuinely concerned.  "You just need relief, Carlos.  If
you don't get relief, things like that happen.  You know what I mean,
right?"

Of course Carlos knew.  He wasn't a baby.  He knew about masturbation.
Mostly.  But how could he do any of that with such little privacy in this
place?

Danny seemed to read his thoughts and said, "If you just give yourself
relief, that's not enough for guys our age.  Maybe for the nine-year-olds.
But relief with a friend is always way better."

Carlos's cock actually twitched at that.  Was Danny proposing that he toss
Carlos off?  Right there in the bathroom?

Carlos didn't want that!!

Or did he?

Danny took a step forward and leaned his arm across Carlos's body.
Touching his forearm to Carlos's hip.  Reaching for something.  Carlos
thought Danny was reaching for his cock.  So he should have recoiled.  But
he didn't.

Why was that?

Actually, Danny was reaching for the faucet.  To turn it off.

"Wasting water isn't good for the planet, Carlos.  Good night."

And he was gone.

Leaving a trembling, confused, Carlos in his wake.

The sweet innocent stumbled back to bed and fell asleep until eight
o'clock, at which time he heard everyone stirring.


"Come on, Sleepyhead," Rusty said.  "Breakfast in 15 minutes."

Carlos was definitely hungry.  And being a nudist definitely cuts down on
what needs to be done each morning.  So in 15 minutes he had peed, made his
bed, brushed his teeth and was walking to breakfast with Rusty and the
other boys.

The boys seemed a bit different to Carlos that morning.  Getting used to
their nudity seemed to change them a bit.  Make them more daring or
something.

Carlos didn't like it.  And he especially disliked the way Rusty was
talking to Uncle Shawn as they entered the dining hall.  Giggling shyly as
they talked about the weather and how well they slept last night.

Was Rusty flirting with the enormous black man who had made him spunk while
applying sunscreen only 16 hours earlier?

Carlos didn't wait to find out.  He got in line for his breakfast, only to
encounter Danny.

Of course.

"Good morning, Sunshine," the blond, proudly gay beauty said.  "Did you
sleep well?"

"Yes, thank you," Carlos replied, with as much ice as he could muster.

Though his cock looked pretty warm in Danny's presence.

Danny noticed.  And said no more.

Danny sat with Carlos at breakfast, observing the way Carlos pretended not
to be looking at the goings-on between Carlos's friend-of-one-day Rusty and
Uncle Shawn.

They were sitting at a table.  Side-by-side.  All four hands out of sight.
Rusty seemed to be reacting to something that was going on beneath the
table.  Something very nice.  The boy had a very big reaction to something
Uncle Shawn was doing.  Then, after Rusty had calmed down a bit, it was
Uncle Shawn's turn to have something done to him under the table by Rusty.

Danny could see that Carlos refused to believe the only logical conclusion
-- an exchange of enthusiastic handjobs, nicely given and gratefully
received.

This boy is going to need a lot of mentoring, Danny thought.

Breakfast was finished at 9 and it was back to the water park for another
one of Mr. Pubistic's announcements.

"Boys, I'm sorry to say that so many of you did such a poor job of putting
sunscreen on each other yesterday, that, from now on, in the interests of
your safety, men will be applying your sunscreen."

There was a general murmur among the boys.

Was it an excited murmur?

Murmurs can be murky.

But rules are rules.  Even Carlos got that.  And if it was being done in
the interests of safety...

"Since there are 40 of you and only three men," Mr. Pubistic went on, "I've
asked seven members of the Shagall Foundation's Board to assist us.
Gentlemen..."

Seven older, buff, rich-looking and very naked men appeared.  All very
erect and drippy.

Carlos wondered if the laundry crisis had gone worldwide, since men like
them could have probably found something to wear if they needed to.

But most of the boys seemed to welcome the arrival of new men.  Looking at
them shyly.  With teasy giggles.

One by one the boys approached the men to get their sunscreen applied.

With enough teasy giggltry involved to disgust poor Carlos.

At least 30 of the 40 boys, in Carlos's estimation, enjoyed being "handled"
by a man.

And they illustrated that enjoyment with squealing, shameless spunk-ups.

Carlos wondered how those boys could debase themselves so thoroughly.

Then it was his turn.

With Uncle Shawn, as it turned out.

The same man who had done something unspeakable with Carlos's former friend
Rusty at breakfast that very morning.

Carlos resolved that there would be no teasing and giggling from him.  And
no spunking, either.

Just getting his sunscreen applied.  For a thoroughly legitimate purpose.
Screening the sun.

Not enjoying it one bit as Uncle Shawn ran his rough, strong, lubricated
fingers all over his tender, young body.  Pausing at the nipples for an
excruciating rub-up.  And again within the crack between his bottomcheeks.
Deeply between.

Rubbing.

Very nicely.

Must...resist...gayness.

Carlos made two "mistakes" at that point.

First, he looked Uncle Shawn in the eyes.  The man was very handsome.  And
he seemed to be saying something to Carlos with his eyes.


"I was just putting sunscreen on those other boys today because it's my
job," Uncle Shawn's eyes said.  "But I'm doing it for you because you're so
cute and beautiful and desirable."

Perhaps it was Carlos's eye-reading that was mistaken, but the boy was
convinced that the man who was "handling" the boy thought Carlos was
special.

Carlos's second "mistake" was that he didn't immediately flinch or run away
or even get on the bus and demand to be taken home when Uncle Shawn slid a
thick, callused finger into Carlos's bottom.


Milliseconds later, it was too late.

Uncle Shawn had quite expertly located Carlos's prostate and was massaging
it mercilessly.

Transforming Carlos from a committed heterosexual to a heterosexual with an
open mind about viable alternatives.

Which all led to the single most embarrassing, incident of humiliating
mortification in Carlos Puerito's young, beautiful life.

The boy issued a scream worthy of an eight-year-old girl whose Barbies were
just snitched by her five-year-old pain of a brother.

Then Carlos shot six magnificent ropes of boy's cream into the air.

An event heard and witnessed by ten men and 39 other boys.

Oh my.

Shoot me now, Carlos thought.

He was fated to be the object of scorn and teasing and..

Wait...

No one was giving him crap.

In fact, Rusty and Danny were giving Carlos thumbs-up signs.  Three other
boys came by, smiled at him and patted him on the back.

"Nice one," a pretty young Asian boy named Alan said.  "You must have
really needed that."

Wow.

Maybe I did really need that, Carlos thought.  Then he dismissed the
thought and welcomed the return of Mr. Shame and Mr. Guilt.  His life's
most constant companions.

Who are these boys and men, Carlos thought.  Am I the only one with any
reason -- heterosexual reason -- the Only True Reason -- among them all?
And what else can I expect from them?

At that moment, all Carlos got was some good, clean fun in the water park.
He met several of the boys, each of whom seemed eager to meet him after his
"scream and cream."

Perhaps he was imagining that several of the boys would leave the water
park area now and then in order to go to the bathroom or re-sunscreen or
something.  For an average time of 30 minutes.

Nothing too odd.

Until just before noon, when a little charmer named Marco returned to the
pool.  With flushed features, though the day was cool.  And a large amount
of sperm oozing from his bumhole onto both inner thighs.

Carlos was aghast.  Had one of those horrible board members RAPED Marco?

He didn't look RAPED!

He looked happy.  Though he seemed to be the only boy in the place whose
penis wasn't erect.

Even poor Carlos was eternally erect.  Though the thought of the atrocity
just committed on Marco had made his cockhead droop a bit.

Some of the boys had gathered around Marco.  Getting the scoop on what had
just so wetly happened to him.  Giggling nervously and with outrageous
wonder as Marco told them a smutty account that Carlos couldn't hear.


And didn't want to.

Ever.

Though he couldn't honestly say that he wanted to go home either.

There were "aspects" of Shagall Foundation Park that Carlos enjoyed.

Plus, the boys hadn't even been to the roller-coaster, ferris-wheel section
yet.  And Carlos liked rides.

There were lots of EXCELLENT rides at Shagall Foundation Park.


Three -- Full Contact

The morning water-park session ended at noon because it was time for lunch.

The boys went inside to shower off the sweat and sunscreen, toweled off,
then hustled toward the dining room.

It was Carlos's sense that some of the boys wanted to linger in the showers
a bit with some other boys, but Uncle Shawn and Uncle Brad kept them all
chaste and moving.

Well.  Perhaps not all of them.

Carlos counted only 30 other boys in the shower with him.  Where were the
other nine?  And where was the ubiquitous Mr. Pubistic.  Not to mention
those seven board members who were "helping out" that day.

Hmmmm.

Danny, as it turned out, was among the missing.  As was Rusty.  So when
Carlos sat down for lunch, he found himself sitting next to Marco.

He of the cummy bummy.

"Don't ask him about it.  Just eat," Carlos's good side insisted.  So
Carlos, of course, asked.

"Why was that sperm coming out of you at the pool, Marco?'

Enquiring minds want to know.

Marco actually blushed.  "Mr. Deeprod, the board member, and I, we took a
ride.  He called it a `Shagall Foundation Fun Ride' and it was LOTS of fun.
All the boys can take the ride if they want to."

That didn't seem so bad, Carlos thought.  Maybe it was just a ride on a
tilt-a-whirl and Marco sat in something creamy by mistake.

Maybe there really were WMDs in Iraq in 2003.

Plus Marco just said that the ride was voluntary.  And if it was anything
gay...or semi-gay...or even gayish, Carlos was NOT participating.
Mr. Shame and Mr. Guilt nodded their heads approvingly.

Rather than hear something disturbing, Carlos changed the subject.  Talking
about Marco's pre-park life.

Marco, it seemed, was from New York City, so the whole fresh-air thing was
a novelty to him.  He lived with his Mom and Daddy, an older brother and a
younger sister.  Marco's brother was 16 and quite the ladies' man.

"I never really liked the ladies," 11-year-old Marco told Carlos, as he
laid his soft hand on Carlos's bare thigh.

"Get out of there!" Messrs, Shame and Guilt fairly shouted at Carlos.

Not just yet, Carlos thought.

He had remembered what the boys had said to him three hours earlier --
about really needing to spunk.

It made sense.

He loved to spunk.  Always felt good before, during and after a good
spunking.  And it wasn't like he would be ostracized by this bunch for
letting a pretty boy like Marco take a small liberty or two with him.

Carlos looked around the dining hall and saw something quite unsettling.
At least 20 boys had become "couples."  Sitting closely together.  Feeling
each other's bodies with their young hands.


Three or four couples were even [gasp] KISSING!

Carlos gulped.

He decided that, in the interests of his health and well-being (the scourge
of "blue balls" being very familiar to him) Carlos would allow Marco to
touch his "pretty things."  Just that and...

Encountering no rejection during Carlos's thought soliloquy, Marco assumed
that Carlos was up for some "full-contact drills."

In one swift move, the boy slid body-to-body with his new boyfriend, seized
Carlos's cock, and planted a big, smoochy kiss on the confused boy's full,
wet lips.

Carlos's first instinct was to resist. But his first instincts had been
pretty much wrong lately.

So to the horror of Messrs. Shame &Guilt (who departed huffily), Carlos
surrendered to the gay beauty's shameless, guiltless advances.

Oh!

It was Carlos's first kiss!

Deep and delicious.

Enhanced by large measures of tongue.

Oh!

And Marco was the first anyone who had touched Carlos's peener since his
mother used to bathe him.

Oh!

It was disgustingly gay.

And magnificently thrilling.

Marco proved to be an excellent penis-toucher.

He even knew how to pull the skin back on the knob oh so sweetly.  The way
Carlos did sometimes when Mr. Shame and Mr. Guilt were on coffee break.

Though Carlos had never suspected, prior to his arrival at Shagall
Foundation Camp, that it could feel so nice to be touched by another boy.

Suddenly it occurred to Carlos, a well-brought-up young man, that he should
reciprocate.  Marco had feelings too and would probably appreciate a little
friendly "skinning" while they were kissing and Carlos was experiencing his
own naughty joys.

So the young beauty reached out, fumbling a bit to get the proper grip on
Marco's teeny wienie.


There it was.

Oh my.

It was so small -- smaller even than Carlos's -- but it was delightfully
hard and abnormally hot!

Carlos loved that he was exciting Marco.  A boy of some obvious
"experience," as well as initiative, since he had been the first of the 40
lovelies to have doused his anus with what Carlos had come to accept had to
be "man's cream."

The two pretty sweeties used their non-masturbatory hands to caress and
explore each other as they kissed, in a fine example of how today's youth
is skilled in multi-tasking.

Oh my.

It appeared that Carlos was going to have one of those oh-so-pleasant
"boy's times" that he was usually only able to experience when stroking
himself with babyoil while recalling a fond memory of Linda Spreadlegs, his
fifth-grade classmate, who wore very short skirts that sometimes revealed a
glimpse of her very pink panties.

Only this boy's time was going to be a great deal more powerful than all
the others.

Instead of imagining being with someone, kissing and touching private
parts, Carlos was actually doing it.

The fact that he was doing naughties with a boy, not a girl didn't seem
nearly as blushworty as it had mere moments earlier.

Humans have survived on this planet because of their adaptability.

Carlos' pleasure, when it attacked his entire body from the nipples down,
astounded him with its severity.

"Doing things" with a boy, both naked, with other naked, boy-couples in the
room "doing things" was off the charts on Carlos's naughty scale.

And, since from age 11 and above, the only true pleasures are naughty
pleasures, Carlos's pleasure greeted him harshly.

The astonished beauty shot his cream in six increasingly agonizing ropes of
delight.  Sperming Marco's hand, wrist and most of his forearm.  As well as
his own tummy.  All the while submitting to Marco's urgent French kisses
that were sweeter than French pastry any day.

Just in case his fellow Shagall Foundation Park mates didn't notice that he
had just filled in all the blanks on an application for sissyboyhood,
Carlos let out a pretty horrifying scream.

Oh my.

That sort of said it for Carlos, didn't it?

How long had he held onto his troublesome heterosexuality since he had
first gotten naked with boys and men?

A smidge less than 24 hours.

Hmmm.

Well.

Two possibilities here.

Give in to the sex-drenched environment which promised to get much
drenchier.

Call the State Police and report that a 21st-Century Sodom had sprung up in
their jurisdiction.  And he, Carlos Puerito, was the whistleblower [not the
cockblower] who had uncovered it.  He would be a hero!  Loved by all.
Maybe even by one of those hunky state troopers who would take off
everything except his gunbelt and properly thank the still-naked Carlos for
his good citizenship.

No.

Wait.

That was wrong.

Only one possibility.  To push forward.

Carlos broke the kiss with Marco and looked the boy in his pretty eyes.
Then he looked at Marco's cock.  So stiff, drippy and needy after all the
nice things he had done for Carlos.

Mother always said to share.  And to go a good turn one better.

Mother would have been proud, Carlos told himself, that Carlos went beyond
a mere handjob in his thanks for Marco.

Shocking himself with his boldness yet again, Carlos sank to his knees and
took Marco's cock into his mouth.

Which delighted Marco.

And excited Carlos so much that his defeated soldier began to stand tall
for the next battle.

Carlos used instinct, not experience to kiss and lick Marco's skinned knob.
Drawing sharp squeals of delight from Marco.


Carlos pleased the object of his affection even more when he gave each of
Marco's pink balls a thorough tongue bath.

"Oh, Carlos!"  Marco moaned.  "I'm close.  Please put your mouth over my
knoblet."

Carlos wasn't entirely sure what "close" meant, but he had the general
idea.  Marco wanted to shoot his stuff into Carlos' warm, wet mouth.  The
little cockpleaser probably wanted Carlos to "drink" it too.

Disgusting to Carlos?

Not any more.

It sounded like great fun.  Though more fun for Marco.

Carlos capped Marco's knob with his mouth, tongued the underside of the
boy's cockhead for under a minute, then submitted to the full torrent of
Marco's exquisite sperm.

Not bad.

And it certainly seemed to make Marco's day.

Carlos struggled to swallow it all, not wanting it to get all over him and
make him messy.  He managed to secure each tasty drop.

Yum!

Odd thought.  One of many that day.  Did Marco enjoy that more than
whatever someone had done to his bum earlier that day?

He asked around that issue.

"Did you enjoy that, Marco?"

"MMMMMMM!!"

"Did I do it right for my first time?"

"That was your first time?  I would have never known.  You're a great
cocksucker."

Carlos recoiled at that.  On the playground, "cocksucker" was a pejorative.

But not at Shagall Foundation Park.

Carlos cleared his throat.  Feeling a cum bubble deep within.  Then he
asked, "What was that stuff you had on your bottom earlier this morning?
Did you sit in someone's boy's cream?  Did someone shoot his cream all over
you back there?"

Marco didn't mock Carlos's innocence.  "No, Baby.  Someone shot his cream
INTO me, not ONTO me.  A man.  A very hunky man.  Mr. Splitbum, a Board
member.  He's very nice."

Carlos didn't get it at first.  In him?  How?

Oh!!

Carlos began to tremble violently.

Men were putting their cocks into boys' bottoms!!

Right there at the Park!

Practically murdering the boys with pain.

Though Marco didn't seem murdered.  He seemed happy.  Very happy.

Marco understood what Carlos feared and he addressed it.  "First of all,
Sweetie," Marco said as he began to stroke Carlos's revitalized cock,
"you'll never have to do anything here that you don't want.  Any man who
even tried that would be shot and buried in a shallow grave nearby.
Second, you'll soon want men to fuck you.  It's the best thing in the world
to feel a man's cock in your bum.  Rubbing your boy's place with each long
stroke.  Making your eyes cross with the sweet agony of it all."

Carlos was trembling.  And perspiring.  At the thought of such gay
debauchery.  And the feelings it would engender.  The emotions and
sensations it would awaken within him.

He would be adored by a man.  Or [blush] men.  Men who would worship his
beauty and want to please him in every way.

He looked at Marco and asked the big question.  "What should I do?"

Marco kissed him and said, "Go through that door and tell Uncle Shawn that
you'd like to meet a `Board member.'  By now, there are probably 25 men
here...ready to help boys enjoy their vacations.  Then, if you like the man
they bring out for you, just go where he takes you and do whatever you
think you want to do.  You might ask for Mr. Splitbum.  He's very nice, but
he promised he'd take me on the roller coaster tonight after supper, then
back to his room for some all-night fun, so I HOPE he's saving himself."

Carlos was grateful for Marco's offer, but if he decided to ask for a man,
no saying that he would, he would want his own man.  Not Marco's.

Should he do it?

Carlos looked at his little cock.  Which was voting an enthusiastic yes.

He looked at Marco. Couldn't he and Marco just "do things" for a while?
Without men?

Apparently not.

Marco stood and said, "Whatever you decide, have a good afternoon.  I'm
going through the door and getting a man.  Now.  Want to go with me?"

Carlos found his courage.  Or his gayness.  Or his sissyboy gene.  Perhaps
all three.  He stood.

Hand-in-hand, Marco and Carlos walked to the door to anal pleasures.



Four -- Men

Uncle Shawn smiled broadly when he saw Carlos approach the door.  He had
figured Carlos to be the most scared in the place, thus the last to
surrender to a pretty boy's true nature.  It was good to be wrong.

Uncle Shawn had had his eye on the delicious little creampuff from the
moment the bus had arrived.

Too bad he was on duty or he's take Carlos himself and give him some basic
anal instruction.

Oh well.  There was always later that day or night.  Or any of the next 20
days and nights.

Uncle Shawn looked at the roster of available men and decided to give
Carlos a nice treat.  Which, when Carlos realized it was a treat, the bny
might want to show his gratitude down the road.

"Mr. Rockrod has had his eye on you, Carlos," Uncle Shawn said.  "I'm sure
he'll be happy to meet you.  Marco, you greedy little angel, didn't
Mr. Splitbum give you enough this morning?"

Carlos watched in awe as Marco giggled shyly and practically teased the
cock off of Uncle Shawn.  "[Giggle] I don't know, Uncle Shawn.  I just have
these feelings.  Do you ever get those feelings when you're around pretty
boys?"

How did he do that?  Carlos was going to have to start taking notes.

Carlos hardly noticed when Marco set off to see Mr. Pubistic the man
himself.  He was way more concerned about his own fate with Mr. Rockrod.


Down the hall and room 107 would be on the left, Uncle Shawn had said.

There it was.

Carlos took in a deep breath.

Still time to withdraw.

Carlos knocked.

The door opened and a VERY handsome, VERY buff and VERY naked man greeted
Carlos with a big smile and an enormous cock.

Which is the very best greeting of all.

Carlos stepped back when he saw the man's cock.

It was so big and hot and hard!

And by crossing the threshold into room 107, Carlos was pretty much saying
that he wanted that man to shove it all into his tight, hot, miniscule,
virgin bumhole.

Ridiculous!

He was leaving right now.

As soon as his feet would "do their stuff."

Leaving.

But not just yet.

"It's so wonderful to meet you, Carlos.  I saw your picture back in April
when your Mom and Dad agreed to let you come to the Park.  I was hoping
very much that you would pick me to be your first man.  You're the most
beautiful boy I've ever seen."

Now you might imagine that the "You're so beautiful" line, which originated
in Neanderthal Times, might have lost a bit of its punch.

No.

It hasn't.

It made Carlos feel special.

Much as it had made the young, beardless Ug feel special when tribal chief
Mok used it on him back in Several Million B.C.

That "special feeling" is still a powerful panty remover, though Carlos was
quite naked.  He mentally removed his panties as he stepped into
Mr. Rockrod's room.  And Mr. Rockrod closed the door.

It was time for, "Can I get you a drink?"

But Mr. Rockrod eschewed that.  Thinking rightly that delay was Love's
enemy when the boy is skittish.

"I've been dreaming about kissing you for months now.  May I?"

Carlos thought, "I'm the most beautiful boy he's ever seen.  He's already
half in love with me.  And he's been obsessing about me for months.  It
would be cruel not to let him kiss me.  And I'm not cruel."

See how easy this can be if you stick with the classics?

Anyway.

Carlos nodded his assent.

Mr. Rockrod sat in an easy chair and drew the boy to his naked lap.

Then, for fifteen thrilling minutes, Mr. Rockrod consumed Carlos with
ardent, passionate, highly skilled kisses.

Not a peck on the cheek among them.

After which time, Carlos was on a high boil.

Mr. Rockrod had not touched Carlos's bottom, boy's things or nipples.
Which had the effect of making the sweet lad even needier of carnality.

Carlos's bottom, boy's things and nipples ached to be touched.

Without breaking the tongue kiss, Mr. Rockrod stood and carried the boy to
the room's very large bed.  Where a glorious fucking was planned.

But not quite yet.

Mr. Rockrod kissed Carlos's right cheek.  Licking it lewdly.  Which led to
the insertion of the man's tongue in the boy's right ear.  Making the boy
wince at the oddly pleasant sensation.  And the message which said, "I'm
going to kiss and lick you anywhere I want.  You're mine."

Carlos whimpered in sissyish submission as the man trailed his kisses from
the ear to the right nipple.

Where great oral adoration produced an excellent result.

Amazing himself and delighting Mr. Rockrod, Carlos shot his boy's cream as
his very first man lover "licked his titties."

Carlos was so ashamed.  He had become a simpering, man-hungry, give-it-up
sissyboy with less resistance than a Congressman offered a big campaign
contribution by an unsavory donor.

He was humiliated too.  Mr. Rockrod now knew what a little, cum-easy
trollop he was.  And would know that he could do disgusting things to
Carlos with barely a squeak of resistance.

Of course, neither the shame nor humiliation was strong enough to deter
Carlos from discovering the exact nature of those disgusting things that he
hoped were imminent.

This was the fifth summer for Mr. Rockrod at Shagall Foundation Park.  To
become a Board member, he paid a "stiff," annual membership fee in the high
six figures.  For which, he got nine weeks of boy fucking (three groups of
three weeks each) and some delicious, three-season liaisons with his new
boyfriends after all had returned to the City by September.

It was WELL worth it!

Fucking Carlos alone, an event which was soon to occur, would be worth the
annual fee to Mr. Rockrod.

The boy was an angel of love.  And eager to abandon the burden of his
theoretical heterosexuality.

Boys Carlos's age wanted sex.  They needed sex.  It was a biological
imperative.  But girls, either because of their own biological imperative
of protecting their limited eggs, a justified fear of unwanted pregnancy,
or an unjustified case of pain-in-the-assedness, rarely gave the boys any
of what the boys desperately needed.

Thus, sensible boys turned to each other...and to men.  Though it often
took a nudge for certain boys to do so.

Danny, whom Mr. Rockrod intended to fuck soon and often, was a great
example of a boy who had figured things out for himself.  Carlos required a
small push.  Such as being naked around 39 other young beauties and a host
of hunky men.  Then watching his fellow campers "enjoy things" as Carlos
managed to add two and two.

In Mr. Rockrod's five years at Shagall, every boy had surrendered to his
own better nature and had become an eager receptacle for the love and sperm
of men and boys.

Carlos's surrender was a beautiful thing to observe and to enjoy.

Mr. Rockrod was especially eager to instruct the boy on the pleasures of
the anus.

Orally first or digitally first?

Hmmm.

Oral was working well, so why change?

Mr. Rockrod continued to kiss his way "south" along Carlos's shuddering,
barely post-orgasmic body.

Oh my.

There was a "lake" to cross before reaching the "grand canyon."

Sperm had formed a body of liquid around Carlos's navel.

A navel operation always involves semen.

That was a pun.  Think about it.

Mr. Rockrod set about draining the lake.  By licking it up.

Mmmmm.

Fresh, warm, boy's cream.  Accompanied by grateful whimpers as Carlos's
imagination took in that the man was "eating his spunk!!!!"

How disgustingly, depravedly delicious!

Carlos's little soldier began to stand at attention again as Mr. Rockrod
completed his appetizer and moved on to the entrée.

Not Carlos's penis and testicles as Carlos had conjectured.

Mr. Rockrod had lifted Carlos's "pink purse" with his nose and was licking
the boy's asshole!!

His asshole!!!

Huh?!?!?!

Was Mr. Rockrod nuts?

Or did people, other than crazy people, lick each other back there?

And why did it feel so good?

Carlos was thrilled beyond measure.

Not only did Carlos feel as if the man was worshiping his beauty, he loved
the feeling of a fat tongue in his most intimate, dirtiest, naughtiest
place.


For his part, Mr. Rockrod adored all of the boy's surprised, aroused
squeaks and grunts.  In addition to the taste, of course.

Mr. Rockrod loved the taste of a pretty boy's pussy.

After 14 minutes of fierce analingus, poor Carlos was going to spunk yet
again.  His heavy breathing and increased erotic anxiety told Mr. Rockrod
so.

But before such a great event could occur, Mr. Rockrod stopped tonguing his
tangy prize and conquered new territory.

With one swift move, Mr. Rockrod took Carlos's tiny penis into his mouth
and simultaneously entered the boy's sopping anus with two rude fingers.

Sucking on a skinned knob that had never felt lips or tongue.

Finding Carlos's special, inner "boy's place" and rubbing it just the right
way.

Overpowering the pretty sissyboy's immature senses and throwing him into
what was once called a "dither."

All of a sudden, Carlos was orgasming.  With five times the intensity of
his best, non-anal seizure.  Clamping his anal muscles onto Mr. Rockrod's
fingers as the boy emptied every one of the remaining sperm cells in his
little pink bag.  Crying out in an anguish of rapturous delight.

Mr. Rockrod helped the boy finish his pleasure properly.  Licking Carlos's
penis until it became too sensitive.  Massaging the boy's prostate until
every boyish twitch subsided.

Then it was time to take his own manly pleasures.

But first, the man produced a large bottle of the boylover's friend --
Spermbutt anal lubricant.

He met no resistance when he kissed the barely sentient boy as he digitally
Spermbutted Carlos's fine asshole.

Then he rubbed a goodly portion of Spermbutt on his fine, thick, hard
boypleaser.


Being a gentleman, he previewed upcoming events for Carlos and got his
consent.  "I'm going to slide my cock into your bottom now, Sweetie.  It'll
hurt a bit, but I'll be careful and let you get used to it.  I promise that
if you just endure the pain at first, you'll love it when I fuck you.
Which I plan to do at least twice.  Shooting my hot sperm inside you both
times.  Making you my sissyboy.  Is that OK with you, Carlos?"

With moist eyes that proclaimed surrender, Carlos nodded and whimpered out
an "OK, Mr. Rockrod."

Consent received.

Carlos was terrified as Mr. Rockrod rubbed his boyish "wrinkle" with his
manly peehole.

What if it hurt so badly that Carlos couldn't stand it?  And had to say one
of those awful words men hate to hear from their boys -- "no" and "stop."

Carlos wanted to be a sissyboy, but not a sissy.

So he resolved to see it through.

His resolve was severely challenged as Mr. Rockrod proceeded to put ten
pounds of cock into a one-pound asshole.

Ouch!!

Spermbutt or not!

But as promised, the skilled Mr. Rockrod took his time.  Giving the boy an
opportunity to refresh his courage until...there was nothing more to be
courageous about.

Carlos loved sharing his body with Mr. Rockrod.  And Mr. Rockrod's rockhard
rod.

Carlos's prostate and Mr. Rockrod's cock found great compatibility.

The man loved rubbing his cock against the "little walnut."

The boy nearly jumped to Neptune every time said walnut was cock-massaged.

An exquisite fuck lasted for 18 noisy, ferociously active minutes.  And,
after a lovely, kissy interlude, was followed, as promised, by a long,
slow, 32-minute ride to the planet Venus.


One odd thought struck Carlos as he and his man lay together in heaving
recuperation.

Why did they buy that roller coaster when all the best rides were free?

Funny what one thinks when one has the great luxury of fully drained balls.
And the sure knowledge that they will be drained as often as one wants with
pretty much whomever one wants.


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 Princesses" (gay adult-youth) August 4, 2010