Date: Wed, 18 Nov 2009 09:56:14 -0800 (PST)
From: Beautiful Creamer <beautifulcreamer@yahoo.com>
Subject: Sissyboy Spinoffs (adult-youth)

Sissyboy Spinoffs
By Beautiful Creamer

One -- The bold entrepreneur

Biff Buggerall was troubled.

With the kind of problems we all wish we had.

The billionaire publisher of "Sissy Boy" magazine, the periodical that
transformed the world, wasn't worried about where his next billion was
coming from.  That was no problem.  Hundreds of millions of randy men
around the world bought and "read" Sissy Boy avidly each week.

Still, Biff was worried.

About his legacy.

He didn't want to be known as a one-trick pony with a horsedick.

Though Sissy Boy could hardly be called one mere trick.  In addition to the
weekly magazine, Biff's empire included "Sissy Boy Tours," a fleet of
cruise ships where, for a mere $100,000, a man could spend two weeks in
international waters fucking the world's prettiest young boys (outside
cabins, food and beverages, and tipping were additional charges, of
course).  It also offered "pretty things" to sissyboys whose "daddies" took
them to Sissy Boy World, a lingerie (mostly panties) store filled with
alluring accoutrements for the globe's prettiest of the prettiest.

But that wasn't enough.

Biff knew that his "readers'" tastes weren't "one-size fits all."  He had
tried to satisfy certain "tastes" through a number of special issues, then
gauge patron response.  He'd featured "frosted faces;" man-cream-drooling
bottomholes; cream-soaked panties; and various age-groupings, most recently
a bold move to feature ten-year-old darlings in all manner of coital
collusion.

Biff had learned much from all that, but at the moment our story begins, he
was focusing his attention on a young fellow named "Som."

As part of his tireless work ethic, Biff was personally supervising the
annual recruiting visit to Thailand.  And Som Phuc, the boy sharing Biff's
bed that evening, had been rated a "10" by his highly critical advance
team.

The boy was ten years old.  Stunningly beautiful.  Tiny in every way except
for his six-inch, uncircumcised cock.  And he was the greatest fuck the
world's greatest boy fucker could remember.

Even better, Som made boy's cream like a profitable dairy.  And he fucked
as if every coupling were his first...then his last.  He started out every
fuck shy and innocent and finished off his man and himself with frantic
desperation.

Biff knew that three days locked in with Som meant that he was an
irresponsible businessman -- one who cared more about emptying his balls
than micromanaging his vast empire.

And he didn't care.

Fucking pretty boys was what Sissy Boy Enterprises was all about.  Plus,
Biff couldn't think straight if his balls were full.

Som had been emptying Biff's balls for 73 hours and Biff was thinking very
clearly.  About his next fuck with Som and the singular delight that his
first fuck with Som had been.

Three days earlier, the boy had been brought to Biff's suite wearing only a
wispy pair of white panties that he tented severely with his extra-large
boypole.  Som's apprehension was real.  As was his apparent virginity.

But no boy was ever more eager to lose said virginity.

Since he was seven years old, Som's mother had been preparing her son for
the delights of men and the delights that grateful, boypussy-struck men
would heap upon a delicious boy.  Som's magnificent beauty was single
mother Kanya Phuc's ticket out of rural Thailand and she knew it.

Many of Kanya's friends told Kanya that Som should be a "ladyboy," dressing
and living as a beautiful woman who happens to have a cock.  But Kanya
rejected that whole Bangkok bargirl scenario for her son.  Som was a boy
and would stay a boy.  She would make sure that Som found a rich Western
benefactor and they would live happily ever after.

Which happens in real life as often as your tornado-blown house lands on a
witch.

Still, Kanya knew that Biff Buggerall's annual recruiting trip to Thailand,
which occurred two days after Som's 10th birthday, was her best shot.  In
the previous two years, she spent what little money she had on English
lessons for Som, a nice array of boy panties and a trip to Bangkok to
audition for Sissy Boy.

Fortunately for all concerned, by the time of Som's audition, though the
boy was virginal, he was extraordinarily "hot to trot" for men.  It was
only through eternal vigilance that Kanya was able to keep her son from
"giving it up" to several of their village's Som-struck men.

When Som was brought to Biff's suite for his audition, he knew his time had
come.

Thank goodness, he thought.  He couldn't have waited one more day to suck a
man's cock or feel one in his tiny bottom.

When Mr. Buggerall asked Som's name, he replied proudly, in perfect
English, "I'm Som Phuc!"

Which made Biff laugh out loud and say, "I'll be the judge of that, young
man."

Starting a relationship with a chuckle is very nice.  What followed was
even nicer.

Som was randy as Dennis Quaid's brother when he saw Mr. Buggerall in his
speedo-underpants magnificence.  The man was handsome.  And in shape.
Especially that shape that was tenting his speedos.

Two large, stiff cocks.

Mutual admiration of each other's extreme attractiveness.

Oh my.

Both man and boy knew why they were there.  And if a man didn't "do things"
with Som soon, the boy's scrotum would shrivel up.

Still...  Some niceties were essential.

Beginning with Biff's recognition of Som's astonishing beauty.  That
included the boy's as-yet-unexposed cock.

"You're so beautiful," Biff gasped sincerely.

It was true.  The boy's beauty transcended his culture and ethnicity.  He
was gorgeous by any measure.

Som blushed.  And his cock was in terrible distress, just from the
excitement of being with a man intent on serial fornication.

Biff sat on the side of his bed and beckoned the nearly naked, young beauty
to his lap.

Som sat and leaned against Biff.  Skin to skin.

Oh.

Som had never even been kissed, a fact she noted in discussions with Biff's
skeptical talent scouts.  So when Biff leaned over, all he knew how to do
was offer his moist, open mouth for Biff's lips and tongue.

Som's first kiss was delicious.

An erotic milestone.

Given to the man by a boy in full surrender.

Biff held Som in his arms as they kissed and the man nearly swooned
himself.  Neither cock was touched...yet.

No matter.

Som had reached his limit.

Through a series of helpless grunts and squeaks, Som drenched his overtaxed
panties with the first orgasm of his beautiful life.

At least the first one his mother knew about.  He had discovered
masturbation in recent weeks and was a proud practitioner of its delights
when he met Biff.  But being with a man was quantumly superior to
self-induced creamies.

Biff was delighted that the boy was on such a "hair trigger."  And stunned
by the quantity and dense creaminess of the boy's sweet emission.

His panties were sopping wet with boy's cream.  And he shuddered throughout
his orgasm as if he were having a seizure of pleasure.

Cool!

Biff stood Som up, then slowly, teasingly removed the boy's sopping panties
from his half-erect penis.

So much sperm from such a small boy!

Biff let the panties flutter to the ground, making a mental note to send
them to the Pederastic Hall of Fame, one of Biff's new Sissy Boy endeavors.
Then Biff saw for the first time that large boypole that his scouts had
mentioned breathlessly.

Six cum-soaked inches of the world's sweetest meat.

And since Som was so small, it appeared to be much larger.

Attended by a pink sack of twin-spherical loveliness.

Not a hair to be seen except on Som's head.

Perfect.

Even better, Som was so excited by Biff looking him over that he had
regained his erection.  Completely!

Biff was amazed.

But he acted quickly and appropriately, given the circumstances.  The boy
was still in a high dither.  Before fucking him, a boy must be calmed so
he'll relax that troublesome sphincter thing.  Cocksucking is the textbook
way to get from here to there.

Som had never had his cock sucked.  Which was evident from his astonished
squeals of delight when Biff took all six hard, stiff, Som inches into his
mouth and licked off all the tasty goodness from the first cum.  Even the
part that had lodged under Som's thick foreskin.

And just as WWI was the major root cause of WWII, the remains of orgasm one
led to a nice lickup that produced orgasm two.

Biff didn't expect a flood of boyish juices that time.  The boy had just
spunked -- copiously -- for goodness sake.  But he got one.  Down his hot
gullet.  Accompanied by the pretty boy's throaty scream of orgasmic joy.

The boy was different in many ways, Biff thought.  It appeared that Biff
wouldn't be doing "two-boys-a-day" interviews that day.  Or the next.  Som
Phuc would surely be some fuck.

But first, some nice, loving, after-orgasm attention for the petite young
beauty.

After Biff shucked off his speedos and showed the boy his "man goods."

Biff laid Som on the bed, on his back.  Though having just hurled out his
guts into Biff's mouth, the pretty boys watched the brief strip show with
avid interest.

How had Som gotten so lucky?  He made a note to thank his mother.  And
erase all the thoughts he had had about her for ruining his life these past
two years.  Som had wanted to get onto his back and spread his pretty legs
for at least 20 different men and older boys of his acquaintance.  But
mother had prevented that.

How many nights had Som's testicles ached with unresolved desire?  How many
times had he had to "finish himself" instead of being fully fucked by any
man of his choosing?  Which was, after all, the birthright of one as
beautiful as Som.

Now Som saw the culmination of mother's plan -- some would call it a
scheme.

Som had captured the testicles of the world's premier boyfucker.  Which
would lead Som to the epicenter of boyfuckerdom.  Opening his boyhole to
the world's elite would ensure his future -- as well as his mother's.

And what a pleasure-drenched, golden path it would be.  Beginning with his
imminent deflowering by a major, major hunk who appeared to be in love with
him already.

No, wait.  It really began with all that delicious kissing and fondling.
The stuff of Som's lifelong dreams.  Submitting to a man's sexuality.
Sweet surrender.  Making the boy helplessly ejaculate into the panties
mother picked out for the occasion -- the ones that showed off his "boy's
thing" best.

Then there was the man sucking Som's cock and that second cum, right into
the man's hungry mouth, that far outdistanced any self-induced pleasure in
Som's life thus far.

Looking at the naked Mr. Buggerall, walking toward Som so they could do
some kissing or something, Som took the initiative.  Doing what needed to
be done to serve his man.  Who hadn't even cum once yet.

Plus, Som wanted a good look at Mr. Buggerall's cock before he allowed it
in his rear passage.

Before Biff could lie next to Som, the boy slid out of the bed and onto his
pretty knees.  At Biff's feet.

Eye level with Biff's cock.

The first cock Som had ever been that close to.

And it was a beauty.

Skinned and proud.  At least 21 centimeters (8 inches) in length and
frighteningly thick to a boy whose tiny hole was about to offer it
sanctuary.

Som giggled when he saw the man's cock twitch in anticipation of a boy
kneeling before it.  It drooled out the cutest little pearl of man juices
too.

It looked so sweet that Som just had to lick it off.

The man groaned.

Som knew he had been was a world-class cockteaser.  Now it was time to see
if he could cockplease the world of men.

Som took his time licking the man's peelips clean.  He loved the taste, but
he really loved the way the man got so excited when Som was licking.

Every time he licked a pearly drop off Mr. Buggerall's peelips, a new one
appeared!

What a wonderful phenomenon.

Though one that Som knew as just an appetizer for the main course.

Som's mouthlips abandoned Biff's peelips and kissed their way downward.
Quickly through the head and shaft.  Then slowly and lovingly worshiping
the man's hairy balls.  Bathing them with the hot saliva of his wet,
beautiful tongue.

Biff groaned gratefully as his new love attended to his dangling, tender
manparts.

Attended to them so well that Biff was approaching orgasm, just from a
ballbath.

Not good.  He wanted to cum into that lovely boy's lovely mouth.  Make Som
gag on his goo.

Som sensed all that.  He was a natural.

So before he disappointed his man, he abandoned the ball bath and gave his
full, oral attention to Biff's skinned, needy knob.

Som licked all around the entire knobular perimeter.  Slowly and
seductively.  Making the man squirm with the sweet pangs of approaching
orgasm.

Som loved every picosecond of it.

It was his destiny -- realized at last.

Biff was more concerned with his short-term destiny.  Then he achieved it.

Inside Som's mouth.  And all over the boy's pretty face.  In thick, creamy
globs.

Som's first blowjob.

And it was a beauty.

Biff thought so too.

That time, Som allowed himself to be drawn to the bed, where the grateful
man worshipped him with soft kisses from the boy's mouth to his nipples.

His nipples!

Som didn't even really know he had nipples.  They weren't something he had
thought about.

He thought about them that day.  As the man kissed and licked and sucked
them.  And then, as he nipple-loved Som, Biff [blush] rubbed the pad of his
right middle finger against Som's tiny, wrinkly anus hole.

No penetration.

No need.

Against physiological science and in the realm of erotic sci-fi, the young
sex-enthusiast spunked again.  Big time.

What the...?

Where was it cumming from?

Biff was impressed.

And eager to proceed to the main course.  A good, stiff fucking.

So he chose the mucho-grande-nacho-plata of appetizers as he recovered his
full virility.

Biff lay on his back and positioned the docile angel in a kneeling straddle
across Biff's shoulders.  Facing Biff's feet.  So that his pretty little
"wrinkly" was positioned directly over Biff's mouth.

Following Biff's instructions eagerly, Som lowered his plump bottom onto
Biff's face.

Maybe the proper metaphor was a meal followed by a second meal, since
eating a boy out properly is a full, satisfying meal in itself.  For the
boy at least.

Som's pretty eyes were wide with startled wonder as he felt the man's
tongue enter his boyhole.  And the sounds he made were a) innovative, b)
unusual, c) heartfelt and d)inspirational to his eager, loving analinguist.

The boy was frantic with lust.

He couldn't believe that any man would be willing to lick out his anus.
Little did he know that in a future worldwide opinion poll, it was
estimated that there would be at least 1.3 billion volunteers for that
tasty task.

Unsurprisingly, Som was stiff again.  He was a giving, loving boy, so he
couldn't just "sit there."

So he leaned forward and began to lick Biff's peelips.  Which was as far as
he could reach and still allow full anilingual penetration.  Something he
was not about to forfeit.

Som rubbed his cock and his tummy, which was still coated with his third
cum of that awesome day, against the man's hairy chest as Biff "dined in."

The man was delighted.  The boy was tasty and appreciative.

The boy was delighted.  Was such pleasure possible?  He suspected that
greater pleasures awaited.  Yet, this one was pretty darned good.

It was so erotic and nasty and dirty and awesome.  A fat, wet, rude tongue
violating his most secret place.  And Biff's chest hairs rubbing against
Som's skinned knob.  The taste of Biff's drippings.

He didn't want to cum just then.  Thought it might look like showing off.
But he couldn't help it.

Som screamed out some Thai expletives and pumped out a smaller, but still
substantially creamy load onto Biff's hairy chest.

Biff felt the boy shudder and orgasm.  That was "normal" under the
circumstances.  But when he felt fresh cream on his chest, well...

Biff was obviously about to fuck a prodigy.

And it was time for that to happen.

Just a nice application of Spermbutt Anal Lubricant.  With three dilating,
deeply penetrating fingers.

Biff couldn't resist giving the boy's prostate a nice little rubdown.

Which produced another exceptional result.

Som, whose vessel of discovery was floating on sperm, knew as much about
his prostate as he did about the sensitivity of his nipples.

So imagine how the sexual prodigy felt when an expert gave his boy's place
some digital attention.

Six minutes of whimpering, grunting, screaming intensity gave way to, yes,
this is not a misprint, orgasm number five.

It wasn't a standard six-roper.  But it wasn't dry, either.  Two watery
drools heaved out as if the boy were giving birth.

Biff Buggerall wasn't easily impressed.  He was astounded.

Should he wait to fuck the boy?  Let him rest and recharge?  Show him some
compassion?

Fuck no.

Biff was horny.

And Som was in full lubrication and dilation.  Time for penetration and
fornication.

Fucking a "normal" boy for the first time, Biff would have laid him on his
stomach, propped up by three pillows.  A nice, easy target,

Fuck no.

Biff was horny.

And man on top, the boy on his back, pinned and helpless, was his favorite
position.

Som lay on his back, ankles almost to his ears.  Whimpering to be fucked.

So needy.

So beautiful.

Flames were shooting from Biff's nostrils when he mounted Som.  Getting on
top.  Pinning the boy beneath him.  Dominating.

The man placed his cocktip even with the boy's anus and pushed.

Mercilessly.

Popping his knob through Som's "cherry" anus.  Engendering a squeal of pain
from the boy, then the two most welcome words in the English language:
"Fuck me!"

Can do.

Biff fucked Som with wild abandon.  Plunging and thrusting all the way in
and with a madness driven by lust, he "deep-fucked" a virgin.  Inconsistent
with conventional, out-of-the-bum thinking.

But Biff was THE opinion leader in worldwide pederasty, after all.

Plus, he was horny.

A skilled lover, Biff kept Som in a pre-ecstatic state for 17 fuck-filled
minutes.  You know that condition.  Tingling all over.  Feeling every
stroke, but no "hard pangs" that tell you the orgasm is imminent.

Which was good, since there was no way that the boy could orgasm for the
sixth time in, what was it, two hours and eight minutes?

No way.

However, at two hours and nine minutes, Som once again defied the laws of
the universe.  Wetly.  Shuddering through an orgasm so intense it
registered on local Richter scales, creating a brief tsunami scare in
Southeast Asia.

Som couldn't help it.

He loved being fucked.

He loved having a man on top of him.  Plunging his cock into him.  Rubbing
against that fiery place inside of him with each thrust.

It had hurt at first, but that slick stuff the man had applied to the boy's
tender parts helped a lot.

Som didn't know that all of his serial cums were unusual.  Frankly, he was
concerned that he wasn't making his man cum often enough.

Som wanted the man to like him.  Love him would be better.

A trip to America.  Money for his mother.  Worldwide fame and fortune.  But
best of all, men.

Men fucking him.

Swallowing men's juices.

Making them happy as he made himself happy.

A perfect future.

In his imminent future, it appeared that the man was about to flood Som's
bottom with that thick, creamy stuff.  Mr. Buggerall had a funny look on
his face.  Scrunched up.

Oh.

There it was.

The man was cumming.

A lot.

Som felt his bowels fill with cream and for a second, he was afraid that he
would poop, right there, from his cum enema.  Thankfully, that passed.

As the man pumped the last drops into the boy's sore anus, Som knew the man
"loved" him.  And he "loved" the man.

So it was a good sore.

The kind of sore you want to visit often.

Som was right.

Biff was in love with his latest conquest.

Which was true, technically, about every boy Biff fucked.

But this was real, true, pure love, Biff told himself.

So real, true and pure that he got on the phone and told Kevin, his
assistant and best friend, to do Biff's remaining Thailand "boy interviews"
for the next few days.

Kevin eagerly agreed and, being a major hunk himself, enjoyed his Thai
sojourn tremendously.

Three days later, Biff lay on his back, chest heaving.

Som was sleeping...cutely...soundly.  Was the boy's cock limp at last?

It appeared so.

The boy was human!

With his balls truly empty, Biff was finally able to think about his
business before exhausted sleep overtook him and he and Som would be "at
it" again.

It wasn't a lightning flash, but Biff saw the future of Sissy Boy.

Like cable TV, he could no longer be "one size fits all" for the varied
tastes of men.

He needed spinoffs that addressed certain "appetites."

Beginning with the largest, untapped demographic -- men who ache to fuck
boys but think it's "gay."

What nonsense!

Still, you have to give the customer what he wants.  And he knew just how
to do that.  The first model to reach that demographic would be Som Phuc.
"Modified" slightly for audience appeal.

Biff never used the boys' real names in the magazine.  In a second flash of
inspiration, Biff came up with an appropriate alias for Som Phuc:

"Hung Boi."

Perfect!


Two -- The entrepreneur's target market

Humbert Humpwell considered himself a VERY lucky man.

Six months earlier, the 42-year-old accountant had married Cindy, the one
woman in 500,000 who was beautiful; had a great body with huge, bra-busting
boobs; wore decadent, throwback lingerie, such as black, seamed,
fully-fashioned, reinforced-heel-and-toe stockings and frilly garter belts
TO BED(!!); absolutely LOVED to fuck ONLY her husband; engaged
enthusiastically in the delights of anal sex and cum swallowing; and, most
importantly, did NOT engage in the common female practices of nagging,
manipulation and emasculation.

Humbert couldn't for the life of him figure out why Cindy's ex-husband left
her when she was 35, running off with an 18-year-old bimbette, who, after a
brief "honeymoon" period, vigorously engaged in the all-too-common female
practices of nagging, manipulation and emasculation.

Some guys are idiots, Humbert thought.  He and his 38-year-old,
once-in-a-lifetime babe of a wife were madly in love and totally happy.

With just two teensy complications.

The first of which was Cindy's job.  It was a good job, with a high salary
-- another stunningly attractive feature of that stunningly attractive
woman.  Unfortunately, Cindy's high-powered job took her out of town
eight-to-twelve nights each month.  Which meant eight-to-twelve nights of
celibacy each month for a man who was used to thoroughly emptying his balls
18 to 22 days each month.

One hundred miles per hour to zero was no fun for Humbert's overwrought
libido.

The second complication was Cindy's ten-year-old son Brady.

It wasn't that Brady was a bad boy.  The lad was an angel.  Great grades in
school.  Lots of friends.  Respectful to his mother and his stepfather.

It wasn't that Brady got in the way of Humbert and Cindy's lovemaking.
After a family dinner each evening -- a gourmet meal that Cindy cooked --
Brady did his homework, watched a little TV with his mother and stepdaddy
and went to bed by 8:30.  So each night, Cindy and Humbert reveled in
eleven hours of fuck-filled bliss.

So what was the problem with Brady, right?

Well, if Humbert didn't know better, he would have thought that Brady was
flirting with him.

Imagine that.

A boy flirting with a man!

A good man who loved his wife.  A handsome man whose balls were emptied
more often than a man deserved.  Emptied by the boy's mother.

Okay, Humbert thought, the boy was beautiful.  Anyone could see that.  In a
cute, 10-year-old way.

And maybe Humbert was imagining that the boy was flirting with Humbert.
No.  Wrong word.  Not flirting.  Cockteasing.

Here's the evidence.  I report.  You decide.

The nightly TV watching with Cindy and Brady had quickly evolved into a
"cuddle session," with Brady sitting right next to his stepfather.  Hugging
him.  Putting his head on Humbert's shoulder.

Cindy thought that was wonderful.  "I'm delighted that Brady has taken to
you so quickly, Darling!  His biological father was a louse.  And it's so
obvious that he loves you already.  Let's go shave my pussy!"

Humbert didn't share Cindy's enthusiasm.  Sure, he wanted a good
relationship with his stepson, but why did Brady pout his lips like that
when Humbert looked at the boy when they were cuddling?  Was he expecting a
kiss?

Humbert couldn't share any of that with Cindy, of course.  He wanted no
pussy-limiting tension in their lives.

There was more.  Lots more.

Unless Humbert was grossly mistaken, Brady took every opportunity to "get
naked" in front of Humbert.

It seemed that every time Humbert walked past Brady's room, the boy was
getting dressed or undressed.  With his door open on a just-big-enough
crack to expose the boy's obviously beautiful, naked body.

The boy wasn't wanking or posing or anything.  Just acting "normally."

Humbert shouldn't have been looking.  His balls were empty.  He wasn't gay.
Not a pederast.

Was the boy gay?

Or just immodest?

Except...Brady wasn't naked when his mother was around.  Just when he and
his stepfather were in the house alone.

Humbert tried to put it all out of his mind and, if Cindy hadn't taken
those darned business trips, maybe he could have.

Cindy's first trip after they were married was a short one.  Only one
overnight.

Still...

Humbert had been spoiled.  Several hot fucks every night will do that.

So that night, after dinner, Humbert's plan was to go to bed, lock his
door, grab his fully-heterosexual porn and have a nice spunk-up.  A poor
substitute for Cindy, but...

He had to say goodnight to Brady first, of course. Quickly.  Allowing no
cockteasing.

Which, of course, didn't occur that way.

As Humbert approached Brady's room, he saw that the boy's door was
half-open.  The man wasn't surprised that Brady was in the room and quite
nude.  But what happened next was a bit surprising.

Brady was posing that time.  Standing in front of his full-length mirror.
Looking at himself.  Teasing his little cock.  Making little kissy faces at
the mirror.

What was Brady doing?  What was he thinking?  Was he thinking of Humbert?

Humbert shuddered at the thought.  Then he shuddered again when he got a
good look at Brady's little prick.

It was stiff.  The first time Humbert had ever seen it stiff.

It was beautiful.  Three delightful inches of boystick.  And Brady's
little, pink danglies were the perfect complement to the boy's intense
beauty.

Humbert erected.

Involuntarily.

Gaily.

But before self-loathing could even set in properly, Brady noticed that he
was being observed.

In one quick motion, the boy screamed, spun around, covered his nipples
with his left arm and his "boy's things" with his right hand, and said,
"Daddy!...Privacy!!!"

Brady then walked toward the door and began to slowly -- too slowly --
close the door with his right hand -- exposing his still-stiff cock.

As Humbert watched in horrified arousal, he saw a small smile on Brady's
face. And then he saw only the door.

Brady had never called Humbert "Daddy" before.  Or shown him his stiffie.

Was Brady dickteasiing Humbert?

Did Humbert want to be dickteased?

Humbert groaned.

Then he went to his room, stripped naked and lay on his bed.

What was that?

Why did that happen?

What did it mean?

Why was Humbert rock hard?

Eschewing his usual, emergency stack of well-spattered,
stocking-and-big-boob-oriented porn, Humbert began to think about Brady.
The boy was so pretty.  And he wanted Humbert's cock inside him.  Humbert
knew that.  But it was so wrong.  The boy was underage -- jail bait.  He
was Cindy's son for Heaven's sake.  Worst of all, Brady was a boy and
Humbert was definitely not gay.

Still, Humbert pulled back his foreskin and began to think of Brady.  How
much he looked like his mother.  How Cindy must have looked at age 10 -- no
boobs -- bald pussy.  She had great boobs now, he thought, but still kept
her pussy bald.  It would have been great to fuck Cindy then.  He would
have been 14.  That ship had sailed, but Brady's was still in port.

Brady.

So beautiful.

So needy of his "Daddy."

Oh.

Humbert was hurling thick ropes of man's cream all over his chest.  Gay
ropes.  Guilty ropes.

Of course, Cindy chose that exact moment to call.

She could tell that something was wrong with her husband.  "You've been
tossing yourself off, haven't you?" she asked, giggling.

"Busted," he said with a forced chuckle.

Glad, very glad that she hadn't figured out the stimulus of his orgasm.

The next morning, Humbert woke Brady and they had breakfast together.
Other than Brady calling Humbert "Daddy," nothing unusual occurred.

Except for that newspaper advertisement.

Humbert hadn't read the paper much lately.  He and Cindy were usually
fucking until right before time to go to work.

So he was a bit surprised by the full-page, full-color ad for
Save-a-lot-mart.

The headline screamed, "Boys' pants half off!"  Provocative.  But the
corker was the picture.  Three gorgeous boys with their pants and
underpants down to their knees.  Two were looking over their shoulders at
the camera, displaying their delicious bums.  One was looking straight at
the camera with the most obvious "fuck-me" look Humbert had ever seen.  And
an erect, skinned cock that begged for kisses.

How could that be in a mainstream newspaper?

Had Humbert been so out of it those past few months?

Apparently so.

It was a troubled man who sent Brady off to school that day and then went
to work.

Fortunately, Humbert thought, Cindy would be home that night.

She came home and everything was spermy and right.  For ten glorious,
normal days.  Until Cindy had to go away again.  That time for three
monastic days.

Humbert dreaded Cindy leaving.  The lack of fucking was bad enough, but he
worried that he would succumb to the potential, latent homosexuality, which
was apparently brewing one-quarter inch below his skinline.

Humbert hadn't read any print publications in the past ten days -- avoiding
disgusting displays like that Save-a-lot-mart debacle.  Television was
apparently "safe."  Thus far, anyway.

Humbert would just keep to himself, avoid Brady.  Regain his full
heterosexuality.

The first Cindy-less evening, Humbert stopped off for groceries on his way
home from work.  Had to feed the boy and himself, he thought.  But there
was that impure thought about feeding Brady cum.  Then spraying the boy's
pretty face with it.

Humbert shuddered.  Then renewed his heterosexual resolve.

Until he got to the checkout.

Like every man in countries where toothpaste is used, Humbert knew about
"Sissy Boy" magazine.  It was at every checkout in every store.  Priced at
$39.95, it flew off the shelves.  Humbert ignored it as gay filth.  Which
was the correct response for him, of course.

But then...

Humbert saw the realization of Biff's empty-balled vision, that morning in
Thailand.

A second magazine.  Priced at $49.95!  With a reduced "Sissy Boy" logo to
display a brand extension.

"Sissy Boy Lingerie -- First Issue," it proudly proclaimed.  Then, as a
subhead, it said, "Prettier than a girl...randier than you are."

Humbert gulped.

A new "Sissy Boy" where the models wore lingerie!

Like that absolutely fucking gorgeous Asian boy on the cover.

What did it say his name was?  Oh.  "Hung Boi."

Hung Boi was wearing black, seamed, fully-fashioned,
reinforced-heel-and-toe stockings, hooked with a black, ruffled, lacy
garter belt.  The boy's moist eyes were boring into Humbert's brain.  And
Hung Boi's cock, his huge cock, had just drenched his tummy (including the
garter belt), chest and chin with a huge load of boy's cream.

Humbert's legs shook.

It would be so wrong to buy that magazine.  On so many levels.  It would be
so wrong to take it home, open it and blast load after load of man's cream
as he perused its forbidden delights.  It would be wrong to inject more
volatility into a near-flaming situation with his stepson.

Wrong, wrong, wrong.

So Humbert bought the magazine.  Planning to "read" it once, satisfy his
burning curiosity, then run the filth through the shredder.

Humbert arrived home at around six and heard giggling upstairs.  As a good,
trusted boy, Brady was allowed to have certain friends over in the
afternoons.  As long as he kept his grades up.

Before he could go see who it was, Brady and his school friend, Tommy,
emerged from Brady's room.

The words were normal.  "Hi, Daddy," Brady said.  "Hi, Mr. Humpwell," Tommy
chimed in.

But something was up.  Or had been up.

The boys had been "intimate." Humbert didn't know why he knew.  But he
knew.

The man's first flash was a jealous one.  Brady was his!  But that was
crazythink.

The second was enraged parent.  Brady had broken their trust in him.  But
that was crazythink too.  Neither he nor Cindy had never said, "And
remember, Brady, no cocksucking when your friends are over."

So Humbert did what most parents would do.  He said nothing.

Brady said goodbye to Tommy, then helped "Daddy" with dinner.  They ate
companionably, then sat down to watch TV.  Which was safe.  Except for the
cuddling part.

Safe because there were no naked sissyboy ads on TV.  Yet.

Though, unbeknownst to Humbert, that night marked the debut of an
advertisement celebrating the award of the Nobel Prize for Science to
Carlton Spermbutt, inventor of Spermbutt anal lubricant.  The man who had
taken the pain out of anal sex.  And changed the man-boy culture forever.

As Brady cuddled on the couch with his Daddy, the naughty commercial came
on.

The voiceover was normal enough.  "Congratulations to Dr. Carlton
Spermbutt, inventor of Spermbutt Anal Lubricant and winner of this year's
Nobel Prize for Science.

But what was happening on screen wasn't normal.

Two gorgeous, ten-year-old naked boys (Henry and Alex from "Model
Sissyboy") were lying on their backs, next to each other on a very rumpled
bed.  Each boy was being vigorously fucked by a man whose face was not on
camera.  They were making cute little squealy sounds and saying things
like, "Oh, Daddy!" and "Fuck me, Daddy."

Humbert squirmed with discomfort.  Brady hugged his Daddy harder.

Halfway through the 60-second commercial, each boy began to heave out his
sweet cream.  Then it cut to each "daddy" withdrawing and letting their
man's cream ooze from each boy's open bottomhole.

The boys recovered a bit, then one said, "Thanks, Daddy and thanks,
Dr. Spermbutt."

The other said, "Yeah.  Sex with Spermbutt is all pleasure, no pain.  Want
to switch daddies now?"

The first boy agreed eagerly.  The men switched places as the boys kissed.

Then the voiceover, "Spermbutt Anal Lubricant.  Just enough friction.  Just
enough glide.  Your sissyboy will thank you."

Fade to black.

Oh, the horror.

Humbert was stiff as a fine for driving 90 in a school zone.

Brady knew.

Humbert knew that Brady knew.

Oh, the horror.

How could Humbert get out of this?

Brady, as it turned out, gave him the out.

"I'm tired, Daddy," Brady said.  "I'm going to bed."

It was 7:48.

Brady kissed Humbert good night.  A soft, brief kiss. On the lips!  And he
was gone.

Well.

That was ghastly.

In a thrilling, ball-aching way.

Humbert stalled for time before he went to his room.  Wanted Brady to be
asleep.  No temptation.

He called Cindy and told her how much he loved her and how much he missed
her.

All true.

He omitted the part about where a part of him, perhaps a ruling majority,
wanted to fuck her son.

At 8:50, Humbert decided the coast was clear.  He could go upstairs, lock
his door, open that expensive, on-target smut and abuse himself until he
fell asleep.

Good plan, except...  To get to his room, he had to pass Brady's.

And despite Brady's pronouncement about being tired, the boy's light was
still on.

Just keep walking, Humbert told himself.  Just keep walking.

He didn't.

Humbert peeked into Brady's room and singed his eyeballs.

For once, the boy wasn't naked.

He was dressed, but "unconventionally."

During the past hour, Brady had been busy. He had been into his mother's
lingerie drawer and the results of his expedition were stunning.

The boy was lying on his bed on his back.  He was wearing...and I'm not
making this up...his mother's black, seamed, fully-fashioned,
reinforced-heel-and-toe stockings; Cindy's favorite, pink, garter belt;
that pink bustier thing around his waist and a dab of Cindy's red lipgloss!

He had coated a medium-sized dildo with Spermbutt (where had he gotten
those?) and was running it in and out of his bottomhole with his right hand
as he skinned his red, sore, mini-penis with his left hand.

He was obviously nearing orgasm, eyes closed, whimpering sissily, with cute
little grunts and then, the pretty boy cried out, "Oh, Daddy" and began to
ejaculate an amazing load of boy's cream for a lad of his tender years.

Humbert watched in lustful horror.

"Turn away, turn away," said the same, unheeded voice that told him to
"just keep walking."

But the boy was so beautiful.  And in that lingerie, he looked like a girl.
A girl with a cock that made lots of sperm.  As pretty as his mother; maybe
prettier.  And so needy.  And randy!

On some level, he wanted to walk away, but then, orgasm winding down, the
boy opened his wet eyes, saw Humbert and said, "Oh, Daddy!"

"Oh, Daddy," he said.  Just as he did when he was cumming his pretty guts
out.

The boy loved him.  Wanted him.  Needed him.

It was wrong.  Crazy.  Gay.  Though less gay, Humbert thought, because of,
you know, the lingerie.

Oh, Daddy!

Humbert dropped his pants, then ripped off his shirt.

Naked, he got into bed with his stepson, who cried out with joy as they
caressed each other, then rubbed cocks as they kissed.

After ten glorious minutes of mutual exploration, Brady said, "Fuck me,
Daddy.  I'm ready."

The Rubicon was before him.

If he fucked Brady, he risked his perfect marriage, the intactness of his
testicles if Cindy found out, his reputation in polite society, perhaps his
lifelong freedom.

Yeah.  Like any of that matters to a guy with a stiff, dripping cock.

Brady lifted his knees to his ears.  Daddy coated his aching cock with
Nobel-Prize-winning Spermbutt, lined up his shot and pushed.  Burying his
cock to the hilt in a place that was even hotter and more hospitable than
his wife's pussy.

It became clear to Daddy that he was not Brady's first "visitor."

No matter.

The boy was a great fuck.  And it wasn't really gay or anything because
Brady was wearing lingerie.

Where would we be if we couldn't rationalize?

It appeared that Biff Buggerall's first spinoff had found its audience.


In part two, we'll examine another spinoff.


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 Restitution" (gay adult-youth) May 9, 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
"Try Boys" (gay adult-youth) September 25, 2009
"Sissyboy Scenes" (gay adult-youth) October 17, 2009
"Model Sissyboy" (gay adult-youth) November 5, 2009