Date: Mon, 26 Mar 2007 11:33:42 -0500 From: Charles Hughes <email@example.com> Subject: Mike Gets a Job - Chapter 1 (t/b oral) This story is completely fictional; it includes sexual activity between a 15-year-old and younger boys. If this offends you or if it's illegal for you to read it, leave now. Copyright 2007, Charles Hughes, all rights reserved. If you'd like to copy the story, please, just ask. The idea for the job and the opportunities it affords are an idea sent to me by someone who read "Tyler Becomes a Man," my only other story at Nifty. (Adult/Youth March 23 2007) I borrowed the reader's name for the main character. Thanks, Mike. I'll try to answer all emails: firstname.lastname@example.org Mike Gets a Job - Chapter 1 (t/b oral) Mike hated the idea of getting a summer job. But he loved the idea of having a little money of his own. At 15, he couldn't work just anywhere, and he had had no experience at anything at all. But his dad knew the manager of the new superstore at the edge of town, and he got hired as a stock boy. On his first day, Mike almost quit. Al, the manager, had little patience for an inexperienced worker and almost started him as a bag boy at the check-out counters, and that would have been too much for Mike to take. Fortunately, Adele, the assistant, interceded and gave him the tour of the back of the store and the description of his duties. Five days a week plus Friday evenings until 9. "Shit," he thought. "There goes the summer." His first week, strangely, went fast, and his check at 9 pm on Friday was reward enough. Much to his mother's disapproval, he spent over half of it on Saturday. Mike was not a spendthrift; it was just that he wasn't used to having money of his own. The family didn't have a lot, and he was honestly glad he could have a little income so he wouldn't strain the family budget. The truth was, he felt a little grown up now that he had a job and a little cash. He regretted the mornings, though. Since school was out he had been using his mornings in a way he had kind of come to like. Both his folks worked, so he could sleep late. Then, when he finally woke up, he could pull his briefs off and play with the cock he had come to love ever since he learned about jacking off when he was 10. He had spurted for the first time about a year and a half later, and he knew he was in for a lifetime of fun with his dick. Mike would lay in bed on those mornings and stroke and play with his balls as much and as long as he liked. He'd tease himself to a great cum, which he'd shoot all over his chest, then walk naked down the hallway to take a leisurely shower, during which he would often jack off again. He was a handsome boy; everybody said so. He'd gotten his full head of thick blond hair from his mother. His eyes were a bright blue. He'd always been athletic, and when he'd become a teen his body quickly lost the baby fat, and he'd hardened and shaped in just the right places. He'd gotten his handsome cock from his father, although no one (even Mike) knew that. He was proud of his dick. His pubic hair was still coming in, and though it was darker than the blond hair on his head, it was just as curly. His bell-shaped cockhead topped a shaft somewhat thicker than most boys his age. Like most boys at school, he was circumcized. (He'd always checked in the shower rooms at school and the pool.) He was just slightly over five inches erect; he meansured frequently. In his third week at work -- long after he'd gotten bored with carrying and unloading boxes -- one of the clerks suddenly quit. Mike lucked out. Adele moved him up one rung on the ladder, and he started working in the store itself, among the merchandise and shoppers. At first he was moved from one department to another every couple of days -- hardware, automotive, shoes, electronics, clothing, housewares, etc. Finally, he was familiar enough that he could (he hoped) assist customers practically any place in the store. Still, sometimes it was boring. He had always been a smart boy, so he was able to keep half his mind on the job, helping customers, and the other half wandering wherever he would send it. He would sometimes plan what special tortures he would use on his cock when he got home at the end of the day. Or he would imagine how sexy he would look in some of the clothes on the rack. Especially in some of the briefs and underwear on display in the boy's clothing. And the men's -- some of those photos on the packages showed just about everything a guy had! Naturally, he got horny during the day. When he was working strictly in the back, he'd discovered a few little rooms along the walls of the huge building. Most were storage and maintenance. But there was one which was almost completely empty, except for a pile of old carpeting in one corner, a small table, and a few old chairs. So he used the little back room he'd discovered in a special way. He reasoned. "It's just that I get so fucking horny - sometimes a guy's just gotta shoot!" He would close the door, and his eyes would adjust to the darkness; the only natural light came through a very dirty window, and he didn't want to turn on a light that might draw attention. Kind of spooky, but it was also kind of...sexy. With a grin, he would quickly drop his jeans and briefs. Fuck, he loved being naked. But this was about as much as he should do in here. He would stroke his dick and bend his legs at the knees when he knew it would be soon. "Oh god...oh fuck yeah..." he'd whisper as his cum overtook him. He shot once, then again, and as much as he could onto the floor of the storeroom. Then he'd pull up his pants quickly and head back into the store. He would usually be gone for only a few minutes, and nobody had ever missed him. He would always walk back down the aisles of the store with a big smile on his face. Mike was known around the place as a very happy boy. He also people-watched. That's what his mother called it. He'd be on the lookout for men who were shopping for clothes, trying to imagine what they might look like in their selections. He tried to watch the faces of men who were browsing the underwear section. And he did the same for boys his age, although there were few who came into the clothing section. They were more often in electronics or automotive. One day a woman with a boy about eight or nine years old was browsing the boys clothing and asked him where the fitting rooms are. Always helpful, he took the pants and shirts she was holding and offered to show them. The fitting rooms were at the very back, sandwiched in between the manager's office on one side and the employee lounge on the other. He showed them into one of the rooms, asked her to leave anything she didn't want to purchase on the counter nearby when they came out, and started to leave. He'd glanced at the little boy walking into the room behind his mother, and suddenly an image flashed into his mind: that boy, naked except for his underwear, trying on pants and shirts. Mike was hard in an instant. He stood behind the counter by the doors to hide his bulge, but he found himself stroking the length of his dick through his pants. He thought of the boy's butt, hidden only by the white cotton of his tight briefs...or maybe he was wearing boy boxers, with his young dick swinging each time he bent over to pull up another pair of pants...or maybe little boy bikini briefs, hugging his groin... Mike was suddenly in need of jacking off, and he got his cock under control well enough he could make it to his little room. The image of that little boy sliding pants up and down his bare legs froze in his mind as he stroked himself to a hard cum. He was panting as he dressed. In bed that night he puzzled at this new experience. He was a little embarrassed about it, even a little guilty. He'd thought about men and boys his own age before, especially guys he'd seen naked in the showers at school. But he'd never focused in such a way on a little boy -- he wouldn't even have any hair yet! He wondered just how little a dick would be on a boy that age. His cock demanded his full attention then, and he shot a nice load onto his belly. He dreamed about that boy, but in the morning he couldn't remember anything of what happened in the dream. He began to spend a little more time around the toys and other areas where boys would hang out while their mothers shopped. He smiled and was helpful. And he looked carefully at younger boys. And when he went back to his little room, and while he jacked off he imagined what it would be like to play with one of those boys. A few days later he was making the rounds with some new signs he was to put up, and he saw a boy looking through some racks in the boys clothing. He went over and asked if he could help. "I'm looking for some jeans. Mom said I could get a pair while she's looking over there," he said, and he waved vaguely to another section. Mike noticed that the boy was holding a package of three pairs of white briefs. "I told her I can get my own...underwear. Don't need my mom..." The boy was a little embarrassed. "Sure. Let me show you what jeans we have," Mike offered, and he smiled. "How old are you?" "Ten," the boy said. Mike took the opportunity to look at the boy's waist and butt and guessed a size. He held them up. "Maybe these. Or maybe a size larger. We should try these on to make sure. I'll show you where." Mike turned toward the fitting rooms and was pleased that the boy followed him without a question. Now Mike was going to take a little risk. He held the door open for the boy and then followed him in, just as though this were regular procedure. "Change into these," Mike said, matter-of-factly. Without hesitating, the boy unfastened his belt and dropped his pants. He turned slightly when he realized he had to remove his shoes to take his pants off, and Mike got a very nice look at a ten-year-old butt, framed tightly in the white cotton of the boy's briefs. When the boy stood up, Mike was a bit slow in handing him the jeans so he could have plenty of time to look. A t-shirt covered the top of the little briefs, but the little crotch was in full view. In the floor-to-ceiling mirror which covered the side wall he could still the the little white butt. The boy slipped the jeans on, and Mike kneeled beside him, pulling the leg down to check the length, then slipping his hand up the leg. He could feel the stiff jeans rub against the boy's thigh. Mike stopped his hand at the crotch of the jeans and moved it slightly to the front, where he imagined the little dick should be. "How does it feel?" he asked. The boy's attention had obviously been on Mike's hand, and it was a moment before he replied. "Um...yeah, okay I guess." Mike reached up and unzipped the jeans, pressing his fingers into the boy, knowing that somewhere under it all he was pressing against the boy's dick. He pulled the jeans down. Yes, there was a small tent growing in the pocket of those briefs. The boy shifted a little, obviously embarrassed. "Yeah, happens to me sometimes when I get dressed," Mike said, as though being face-to-crotch with a ten-year-old was an everyday occurrence. He held the second pair of jeans up to the boy without standing. He could see the movement behind that pocket as the boy opened his legs and raised them to get into the jeans. He caught a glimpse of the white skin at the very top of his thigh and the hollow next to it...next to that would be a little dick... Mike repeated the movements he'd made with the other jeans, but this time he kept his hand in place at the crotch. He cupped it briefly, but it was difficult to feel anything through all the stiff material. Again, he helped the boy get the jeans off, but instead of handing him his own pants to put on again, Mike slid his hand up the bare thigh and held it briefly, just below the crotch. If the boy objected now, either it was all over with no harm done or it was big trouble with the manager! The boy stood still. Mike moved his hand upward and cupped the briefs. This time there was no question; the boy was sporting a little hardon. He even pressed a bit against Mike's hand. Mike rubbed the hard little dick around through the pocket of the briefs, and he heard the boy sigh quietly. It was the sigh that encouraged him to go on, that and his own horniness. He pulled the waistband of the briefs down slowly, and a boydick popped out at him. It bounced a few times before it came to a stop. It was no more than two inches, Mike thought. He held it with his thumb and forefinger and was surprised to find that it was as hard as his own cock got. He rubbed it slowly, his fingers pressing back to the smooth skin at the base and then pulling up to the tiny dickhead. His own cock was raging hard. The door to the next fitting room opened and closed, and both Mike and the boy were snapped out of their trance. Mike quickly handed the boy his pants and shoes. He motioned for the boy to take the first pair of jeans he had tried on, and the boy left -- but not without rewarding Mike with a huge smile. Mike quietly slipped the lock on the door and dropped his pants. His briefs were tight against his straining cock, and he slipped them down. He jacked rapidly, using the same hand that had held that tiny dick, and he soon sprayed his cum on the floor. His cum was so forceful he had to wait a moment to regain his strength. He pulled up his clothes, smearing his cum into the carpeting with his shoe, and quietly left. His heart was pounding. He was sure he would get caught this time. But he didn't. The boy had disappeared. Mike picked up the signs he'd been distributing, but within ten minutes he had to go to his little room in the back and take care of his cock again. That night it was the vision of the boy's little dick and the sensation of his heat on Mike's fingers that sent Mike into dreams he couldn't remember the next morning. Every time he saw a boy in the store now, he looked at the crotch, wondering, picturing, imagining. It bothered him a little bit that he didn't do the same for the young men who occasionally came in, but that didn't stop him. It was almost a week before he had another opportunity. This time he talked to the mother and her nine-year-old son, and he offered to help the boy while the mother finished her shopping. In another five minutes, they were in a fitting room, and the boy was removing his pants. Mike went through his same routine, which he'd practiced so many times in his mind, and finally had his hand cupped over the small cotton-covered dick. The little boy smiled down at him, quite happy with whatever game Mike wanted to play. The boy's briefs were down next, and Mike rubbed his little dick into its full hardness - perhaps an inch and a half. His thumb and forefinger moved over it lightly, and the boy cooed in pleasure. The tiny dick was circumcized, but there was a thick ring of flesh under the crown. Mike had not practiced his next move. In fact, he'd never even considered it. He just did it. He moved forward and took that tiny cocklet into his mouth. Mike had never been sucked, and in his dreams he only played with cocks and jacked them off. He had never even thought of sucking on one, but a boy's natural urges took over; some innate need surfaced when Mike held the cocklet in his hand. He tasted boydick for the first time. It's heat filled his mouth, and his tongue explored what his mouth had captured. He sucked cock for the first time in his life, and it was a dick so tiny he could have taken several of them into his mouth. He glanced over at the full-length mirror on the wall, and he saw himself, his face buried between the legs of a nine-year-old, nursing on dick as though he'd done it all his life. When the boy began to whimper a bit, Mike snapped back and realized that if he continued there would most certainly be sounds coming from the fitting room that couldn't be explained. Reluctantly, he let the dick fall from his mouth and looked up at the boy. The boy's face looked as though he was in desperate need. "Don't stop..." he said. Mike stretched up and whispered into his ear, "We can't make a sound or we'll both be in deep shit...not a sound. Understand?" The boy nodded eagerly, then smiled at the realization that the wonderful thing this helpful teen was doing for him would continue. Mike took the cocklet into his mouth again and moved his tongue around and around it. The boy began to wiggle, and Mike placed his hands on the little globes of boybutt to hold him steady. As he sucked and moved his mouth over the boy's dick, he began to move more rapidly. The boy pressed into him and made a little gurgling noise. Mike glanced up and saw the boy place both his hands over his mouth, his eyes begging Mike not to stop. He moved in and out on the boy, sucking as he -- somehow -- knew he would like his own cock sucked. In only another moment, the little dick jumped violently in his mouth, and the boy gave a low, strangled moan. Mike realized what had happened, and his mouth treated the dick more tenderly; then he let it slip out. He realized the boy had put both his hands on Mike's shoulders to keep from falling. Mike held him up. "You can do that at home," he whispered into the little ear. "In bed. Just rub it, and it will happen again." He had no idea whether or not the boy understood -- or perhaps the boy had been jacking himself to dry cums for a long time! When the boy was dressed, he slipped out of the room. Mike dropped his pants quickly and, in a desperate need to relief, jacked off into his hand, then ate the reward his cock had given him for their adventure. That night, naked and slowly jacking his dick in bed, Mike wondered just how many other boys would come into the store in the course of the summer.