Date: Sat, 28 Jul 2007 10:50:06 -0700 (PDT)
From: bill bobber <givingitupgladly@yahoo.com.au>
Subject: Sports Store Beginning 1  (TG teen)

Sports Store Beginning 1

M/T, oral, anal, masturbation, cross-dressing

This story contains adult themes and should not be viewed by those who
are not adults. It features (imagined) man-teen anal and oral sex. It is
a fantasy and all sex is very consensual. It will feature cross-dressing
in the future and tons of hot sex between a horny teenage bottom and many
well-hung men.

I want to thank "Daddy" for giving me the idea for this story. I hope you
approve. I would love to continue with this tale of lust and discoveries.
Let me know what you think.
Thanks!!

Love,
                 Randy



I grew up in a little town that nobody has heard of. In many ways it was
a great place to grow up; it had the swimming holes and tree forts that
childhood is supposed to have; but when you start to become an adult and
your sexuality is about anything other than a girl in a cowboy hat, well,
it leaves a little to be desired.

I started working at the On-Target Sporting Goods store when I just
turned seventeen. I'd had a paper route for a couple of years, but this
was my first real job. And I was luck to have it. Jobs were pretty hard
to come by in this town, especially ones that didn't involve leaning over
the deep-fryer at MacDonalds. Another reason I was luck to have the job
was my boss, Mr Turner. He was a really nice guy to work for. He didn't
yell or boss me around too much. It was pretty sweet.

Mr. Turner was in his fifties and I had to admit, a really nice looking
man. Not that I would have admitted even to myself that I had checked him
out that way. You see, this is the part about growing up in a small town
that isn't so great. I was incredibly naive. I had no real idea about
what people did and didn't with each other. I jerked off a lot (okay, a
LOT) but I didn't analyse too much who was starring in my own private
fantasies. I thought about girls a lot and that was the way it was
supposed to be. But I know that I also thought a lot about men and, good
gracious, I really didn't think too much about what this meant. In other
words, the thought that I just might be a little bit 'gay' never crossed
my mind. All I knew was that it felt really, really good when I
masturbated and I didn't care who I thought about when I was on my way to
an orgasm.

So, back to the store where I was to learn so much about myself (and
about sex - giggle). Mr. Turner and I got along really well. He could see
that I was a hard worker and that I enjoyed working at his store. Also, I
was good with the customers. I really liked being able to help people. I
guess I have the kind of personality that gets pleasure from giving
pleasure. (ahem) Anyway, we got along great.

Now, Mr Turner didn't have a strict dress code at the store. He let me
wear pretty much what I wanted. He also let me keep my shoulder-length
teenage hair. (This was the 70's) And I was really pleased that he let me
wear my cut-off's to work. This is because in addition to my being
hopelessly naive, I was also a bit of a show-off. You see, I rode my bike
and ran lot, so my legs were pretty nice. And I liked to show them
off. The fact that I liked strutting around showing off my long,
tanned, and trim legs didn't ring even one sexual-orientation bell in my
poor little country boy head. Talk about naive.

I ended up working a couple of nights a week, and weekends too at the
store. This was important because at home there was just mom and me
and money was always in short supply. Soon Mr Turner was trusting me so
much at the store that he let me close the store on my own some nights.
This was pretty cool and I loved the responsibility. I was also noticing
more and more Mr. Turner watching me. At first I had thought this was
just because I was new and he was worried I would screw up, but after I
was there for a while I noticed he was still watching me. And, honestly,
I kind of liked it. In my horny teen imagination it was neat to think
that people liked to look at my body, and I wasn't worried that it was a
man.

Mr. Turner wasn't married. He'd retired from the navy a few years back
and bought the store with the money he'd saved. He did, however, have a
friend that came around to visit. Mr. Anderson had been in the navy with
Mr. Turner. When they got together they would start laughing as they
swapped stories of the good-old days. They would also sometimes whisper
to each other and then look over at me. It was kind of creepy, but cool
in a twisted way to have two grown men looking at me. Now, when I caught
them staring at me they'd always look away so it was easy to imagine they
were just talking about kids these days and the way they let their hair
grow so long. But one day Mr. Anderson came in when I was alone in the
store.

He looked at me for a long time in my cut-off jeans and tee-shirt and
then said, "Hi beautiful."

I just stared. I didn't know what to say. He closed the door and walked
over to me, the whole time his eyes never left mine. I swallowed
nervously.

Mr. Anderson stood in front of me. He was not a terribly big man but he
was a few inches taller than me and he was probably twenty pounds heavier
than me and none of it was fat.

"Mr Turner is at the bank, um....  He'll be back in a few minutes," I
stammered.

He was still looking deep into my eyes and for some reason it was really
making me nervous. And what was with this "beautiful" comment?

"That's okay honey. I'll come back later. I'll just leave Joe a note." I
could smell the scent of a manly cologne as he brushed past me. For some
reason my heart was pounding in my chest. I was confused. 'Beautiful?''
Honey?' I wasn't used to being called these names, yet something was
making my heart race and also, I was shocked to discover, making my cock
swell inside my tight cut-offs.

I went over to a display and kept myself busy straightening shoe boxes. I
didn't hear him come up behind me as I was bent over. The stinging slap
wasn't really that hard, but it still shocked me. It was right on my ass.
The ass that I was always shaking as I strutted around the store. I
squealed. Yup, it was an honest to god squeal. I straightened up and spun
around, shocked. Mr. Anderson just smiled at me and said, "Could you do
me a favour hun'? I forgot to leave my note on Joe's desk. Would you be a
love and put it there for me?"

Of course I should have said "fuck off" and done nothing of the kind. The
man had just slapped my ass, for goodness sake! Well, there are a lot of
things I probably should have done, but what I did was take the folded
piece of paper from his hand (I hoped he wouldn't notice that my hand was
shaking) and say "okay."

He didn't move so I turned and walked towards Mr. Turner's office. I
could feel his eyes on me, on my ass, as I walked across that floor. I
couldn't help but turn and look at him, and sure enough, he was staring
at my ass. I gulped and kept walking and never had I been more conscious
of the way I was walking - the length of my stride, the wiggle in my
butt, the toss of my long brown hair. And, I swear I didn't intend to, I
mean there's no way I wanted to, but somehow, my body did something that
I didn't ask it to do. It added just the slightest little sway in my ass
as I walked. I couldn't control it. I was so focused on walking that I
just couldn't help but make my butt move a little. My cheeks were burning
so much from embarrassment that they felt as red as the ones on my ass
where I'd been slapped.
When I came out of the office Mr. Anderson was gone.

That night, after I kissed mom and went up to bed, I couldn't wait to
begin my nightly ritual. One of the joys of being an only child is having
a room to yourself. What freedom to have a safe place to learn about how
to please yourself. Every night, before bed I would strip and revel in
the delicious feeling of being young, naked and horny. I loved to feel my
young body and I would stand in front of my dressed mirror looking at my
smooth skin, flat tummy, and pert little butt. As I stood there I would
begin to stroke myself imagining anything sexy that came into my mind.
Often it involved the cheerleaders at my school dancing and spinning
around in their short skirts. Or it might be about one of the lady
customers who had come into the store that day. Tonight I was really
frantic to get naked and start touching myself. My five and half inch
cock was already hard and even leaking some of the sticky/slippery stuff
from the tip. As I often did I captured a large drop and brought it to my
lips. Mmmmmm, I loved the smell and taste of this sweet liquid. But as
much as my cock was craving attention, tonight there was a new desire.
There was another part of my body calling out to be touched and caressed.
So I gently cupped my round bum cheeks in my hands and rubbed. It felt
sexy and slightly naughty to be touching myself there. but that's the
beauty of having a room to yourself - no one else knows what you are
doing. So I ignored what might be considered "wrong" and continued with
what felt very right.

As my left hand returned to my rigid cock my right hand caressed my
smooth ass. This was right where Mr. Anderson had slapped me. His hand
was right where my hand was now on my ass. He had touched my ass. I
briefly considered thinking about something else but this was clearly
what was driving my needs tonight and I was too horny to stop. As I
squeezed and stroked my ass I found myself imagining it was Mr. Anderson
touching me there. Did I like the idea of him touching me there? My cock
seemed to answer for me as more fluid leaked from the tip. I gathered
this too and savoured it. What was Mr. Anderson's cock like I suddenly
wondered. Instead of being turned off the thought sent a charge through
my body. I bet it was a big one, I thought to myself. I wonder what it
would taste like? I was tremendously thrilled by these wicked, naughty,
thoughts. I couldn't believe I was thinking them, and I was even more
surprised at how excited they were making me. I couldn't stop.

My fingers found the tight entrance to my ass. I pushed my index finger
in. At first it hurt but it was a kind of hurt I had never felt before.
It was a good hurt, and then I felt something really good. Wow, what a
great feeling. I knew I had to have more. I looked around my room.
Nothing caught my eye. Then I looked in my closet, and there I spotted my
skipping rope. The handles were smooth cylinders with rounded tips. Not
as big as I imagined Mr. Anderson's cock to be, but big enough to learn
on.

I grabbed the skipping rope and then went to my top dresser drawer.
There, behind my underwear was a tube of Vaseline cream. With a shaking
hand I smeared some on the tip of the handle. Then, as I watched myself
in the full-length mirror I gently pushed the phallus into my virgin ass.
A moan escaped from my lips and my cock shrank from both fear and lack of
attention. But I didn't give up. I bent over more and spread my legs
farther apart. And then I thought about what I was doing. I was imagining
Mr. Anderson putting his cock in my ass. I looked at myself bent over to
willingly receive the cock of a man up my ass. That's all it took. The
handle popped in and then slid easily the rest of the way inside me a
good six inches. Instantly my cock sprang to attention. What an awesome
feeling! My ass felt full, and imagining it to be full of cock made me
even hornier!

Unable to control myself I dropped to my knees. As I stroked my leaking
cock my other hand began working the thick phallus in and out of my
thrilled ass. I lost control and began bucking my ass. I started
imagining Mr. Anderson fucking me with his big cock. I imagined what it
would be like to take his cock into my mouth. I thought about what it
would be like to have him cum in my mouth. What would it taste like? What
would I do with the cum? I was so horny at this point the thought of
swallowing his hot cum was enough to send me over the edge.

I had never had a more powerful orgasm than I did right then. My body
writhed in pleasure; my cock pulsing out ropes of sperm onto the floor,
my ass clenching on it's new lover, and my brain imagining my young body
completely and thoroughly fucked and covered in a man's hot, thick cum.

I awoke several minutes later. I was spread out on the floor with the
handle from the skipping rope still buried in my ass. The sticky puddle I
was laying in was my own cum - a quantity that I had never ever shot
before. I got up slowly and then lay down on the bed. I started to think
about what had happened. The fact that I had just had the most powerful
orgasm of my young life while imagining sucking and being fucked by
another man. In fact, I had just been the girl in the whole scene. I had
assumed the role of a young horny girl in that little fantasy. My cock
had not had any part in it - only Mr. Anderson's cock had mattered. I had
cum as I was imagining being fucked and swallowing his cum.
I suppose at this point I could have had a little crisis, but I was still
too sexually charged to analyse anything. The handle in my ass felt nice
and my cock began to grow again as I replayed the fantasy in my mind.
Would Mr. Anderson want to fuck me? What would a real cock feel like in
my ass? Mr. Anderson had called me "beautiful." Did he really mean that?
I imagined kissing next.

And then, somehow I saw myself with a dress on. I was kissing Mr.
Anderson and taking his clothes off. When he was naked I got on my knees
in front of him and began to suck his thick cock. I imagined this for a
long time. Then, before he came, I turned around on my hands and knees
and lifted the bottom of the dress over my waist. I was naked underneath
and my smooth, round ass was spread open for him. I imagined Mr. Anderson
kneeling behind me and then stuffing his big cock into me. He began
pumping his beautiful dick in and out of me, pounding my ass as I
screamed with pleaure and begged him to keep on fucking me. To fuck me
like a girl. To make me his slutty girl. To fill my ass with his sweet
cum. I came again, hard, with that scene playing in my head.

I got very little sleep that night. The new fantasies and sensations were
too strong to ignore. I fucked and stroked myself till dawn. I didn't
know where these thoughts were going to take me, but I knew I was loving
the ride.


I hoped you enjoyed Part One of my story. Please, please let me know what
you thought. I enjoy tremendously your letters and naughty tales.

Love,  Randy