Corporate Incentives free porn video

Corporate Incentives By Gingerfred Man NOTE: Some of this was drawn almost verbatim from a story I posted under another nom de smut for a different genre. So, since one can't plagiarize oneself, please don't accuse me of plagiarism. Most of it is new. Chapter One -- Movin' on up Nathan Harden trembled with excitement. The 34-year-old mid-level executive of Amalgamated Global Widgets had just gotten "The Call." The Call was when an executive of the 20,000-employee, multi-billion- dollar, worldwide, wildly-successful corporate giant was promoted to become one of the company's 20 vice presidents. Nathan had reached the powerful pinnacle. And ensured his future. More money. Lots more. More power. Which was always appreciated. And something that had been whispered about in the organization but always remained murky and undefined. Nathan would become one of 21 members of the AGW Executive Club, which occupied the top three floors of the 64-floor AGW Tower. No one but the members had any notion of what went on there. What was known was that the members spent a huge portion of their free time at the Club. So it must be good, right? Having dedicated himself to the success of AGW and his personal success, Nathan was single. He had little or no social life. So the only people he could call with his good news were his parents. They were delighted, though Nathan's mom repeated her constant admonition to Nathan that he "not work so hard." Hard work was what made Nathan the youngest member of the Club. Nathan wasn't about to stop now. Amalgamated Global Widgets CEO Dan Stiffman had called Nathan with the good news at 4 p.m. that Friday and invited Nathan to join him in the Club at 6 p.m. Moments after the call ended, AGW's security chief showed up, giving Nathan his access documents and badges. Then the security official took Nathan to his new, huge office and showed him how to access the Club's secure elevator. Nathan wondered a little why security was air tight. But mostly he just oozed appreciation, anticipation, excitement and curiosity. At 5:55, as directed Nathan entered the elevator and punched "64." Deep breaths. What would the Club be like? The elevator door opened and Nathan saw a small reception area with a single desk. He was greeted by a neat, trim, short, 50-something man who said, "Good evening, Mr. Harden, sir. Welcome to the Club. I'm Geoffrey, the Club's head concierge. I'm here to make your visits to the Club as pleasurable as you clearly deserve. Mr. Stiffman has asked that I take you to his suite immediately. Your suite, a very nice one indeed, will be on the floor below. I'll take you there after you meet with Mr. Stiffman." Without asking for questions, Geoffrey led Nathan briskly to the rear of the building. At precisely 6 p.m., Geoffrey slid in a key card, opened the door, asked Nathan to enter without him, then disappeared. Leaving Nathan in the entryway of a beautifully-appointed apartment. With some furniture, but no walls, except for a bathroom in the far right corner. In the far left corner, was a large bed. And something Nathan never thought he would see at AGW. Unless Nathan's 20-20 eyeballs were failing him, a man was fucking a young woman. A very pretty young woman. Nathan watched in horror as the couple grunted and wrestled though an act that they both were clearly enjoying very much. The man and young woman were standing. The man was naked and behind the young woman, with his cock buried deeply in her pink, plump bottom. The young woman was wearing only a ruffled, pink garter belt; hooked to pink seamed, fully-fashioned, reinforced-heel-and-toe stockings. She was balancing herself on pink, four-inch-stiletto sandals. No bra. Her panties were down to mid thigh. In their rutting passion, they turned to face Nathan. They were so enraptured by their intense pleasure, neither had seen him yet. But he saw the young woman, truly saw her, for the first time. She wasn't a woman!! She had a tiny, three-inch cock that was standing tall and drooling pre- cum as she screamed out the name of her fucker: "Oh, Mr. Stiffman!" An icy butcher knife of fear stabbed Nathan's heart, He had interrupted his CEO, Mr. Stiffman in a perverse act of homosexual sodomy!!! It was all over for Nathan. He knew that. Mr. Stiffman would be furious at Nathan for stumbling in on this display of Stiffman's disgusting satisfaction of the CEO's raw, immoral, and [gasp] GAY (!) appetites. Nathan would be banned from AGW, of course. Some phony reason concocted for his fall from grace. If he was lucky, that is. More than likely, Stiffman would call security and have Nathan thrown off the AGW Tower roof. "We never knew he was suicidal. Our prayers go out to his family," the official statement would read in part. Maybe there was still time to run...slip out unnoticed. But Nathan's feet wouldn't move. And then... The gorgeous pantyboy squealed in rapture and started spunking in high, creamy arcs! Oh my! Despite Nathan's terror, his cock was diamond-hard. Then he heard Mr. Stiffman groan loudly, increase the rapidity of his butt-strokes, then roll his eyes back in his head and shudder through a Force Ten orgasm. Nathan still couldn't move. Despite his fears, he HAD to see what he was seeing through to its conclusion. For no reason that Nathan vaguely understood. Then, the inevitable. "Ah, there you are, Harden," the CEO said. "Good of you to be on time. I'm so glad you've become a Club member. Gina, this is Mr. Harden. Nathan, meet Gina." Huh????????? Who? What? When? Where? Why? How? Stiffman was clearly enjoying Nathan's astonishment. New members always acted like that. Proving that security about the Club's activities was still air tight. As tight as some of the "residents'" pretty bottoms. Stiffman watched as Nathan's mind tried to sort out the unsortable. The CEO also checked out Nathan's crotch and confirmed that the young, "up- and-cumming" executive was painfully erect. If he weren't, there could have been "complications." Stiffman also noticed another good sign. Nathan was staring slack-jawed at Gina. Who was playing the shy little pantyboy to a fine turn. Gina peeked at Nathan through her downcast eyes and inch-long eyelashes. She didn't seem embarrassed by her nakedness, the flood of her sissy cream on her flat belly, her gaping bottomhole where Stiffman's cock had just enjoyed a slice of paradise, or the rivulet of Stiffman's cum that was running down her asscrack and onto her testicles. Good gravy, Gina was beautiful, Nathan thought. And she loved having a man's cock in her bottom! Looking a bit more closely, Nathan was startled by Gina's exceptional use of cosmetics to enhance her natural beauty. Her boy-length hair looked incongruous, as did her tiny tickler. Why was the pantyboy in Mr. Stiffman's suite at that moment? The CEO knew Nathan was coming at six. Did he forget? Wasn't Stiffman worried about fucking a pantyboy so "openly?" In front of one of his vice presidents? Was he showing off? Or was he telling Nathan something? Something about what happened at the Club? In addition to those huge, life-altering/threatening questions, Nathan had to ask himself why his cock was stiff at what he just saw? And why was he still staring at that gorgeous pantyboy? Oh. The pantyboy was looking at Nathan full blast. And smiling -- half shyly -- half teasingly. Did the pantyboy want Nathan "that way???????" Did Nathan want the pantyboy "that way???????" What Nathan thought was going to be one of the best moments in his life had quickly evolved into its most terrifying. Gina walked across the room to retrieve her sheer, pink, shorty peignoir. She put it on, making sure that Nathan got a nice, long look at her plump, pink, cum-drooling bottom. Then she walked back to Stiffman and tilted her head for a goodbye kiss. Which Stiffman delivered enthusiastically. With lots of tongue. Gina gave Nathan one last seductive look, then left the suite to a naked Mr. Stiffman and his horror-stricken employee. "That pantyboy is an angel," the unselfconscious Stiffman said to the still-trembling Nathan. "But we have about 30 others like her `in residence' right now. I'm sure you'll meet them all. And, since it's clear that Gina is interested in you, don't disappoint her, OK?" What? Stiffman didn't want Nathan to "disappoint" Gina? What did that mean? Nathan couldn't ever... "That's what we do here at the Club, Harden," Stiffman said. "We recruit, house and love the prettiest, youngest, legal-age pantyboys we can find. No one knows about it. No one will know. You're free to do what every man's DNA tells him to do. Fuck pretty pantyboys. I know, I know. You're uncomfortable with the idea. We all were at first. But it's not only the best executive incentive program any corporation ever had, it's the main reason, I think, behind Amalgamated Global Widgets stunning success. "No AGW executive wastes time. Minimal meetings. No bullshit. We all want to get our work done and get upstairs to the Club. "Every AGW executive does an outstanding job. Anyone who doesn't gets booted from the Club -- a punishment worthy of Dante or Milton. "So we've found the formula for success and now you're part of it, Nathan Harden. Welcome, my friend." At that, Stiffman shook Nathan's hand, then pushed a button. The suite door opened and Geoffrey appeared. "Geoffrey, please show Mr. Harden to his suite. And ask Susan to stop by for the evening and night if you would. Thank you, Geoffrey." "Very good, sir," Geoffrey replied, then led a still-shocked Nathan out the door and to the elevator and down to floor 63. During the brief ride, Geoffrey said, "We've taken the liberty of moving your clothing and personal items from your apartment to your Club suite, sir. The gentlemen all prefer that. If you wish to keep your apartment, you may, but no one ever does." That was a huge liberty, Nathan mused. And how did they get past the three deadbolts on Nathan's door? Nathan followed Geoffrey obediently to Suite 6321, which Geoffrey showed Nathan how to open with his thumbprint. And Nathan stepped into what would be his new world. Chapter Two -- Nathan's First Pantyboy It was a beautiful apartment -- way better than Nathan's "former" abode. Unlike the CEO's suite, it had rooms and walls. As Geoffrey showed Nathan around, he thought he heard water running and asked Geoffrey if he heard it too. "Yes, sir," Geoffrey said. "Young Miss Gina asked if she could clean up in your shower. I told her you wouldn't mind. Perhaps you would like to join Miss Gina, sir. I'm sure Mr. Stiffman would be pleased if you did." Join that gorgeous pantyboy? In the shower? Naked? Both man and pantyboy? Mr. Stiffman would be pleased? Nathan accepted the inevitability of his situation. Hell, he embraced it. Geoffrey smiled, then made a hasty exit as Nathan stripped off his business suit and underwear, took a deep breath, then, naked, entered his new bathroom. It was quite steamy in there, but through the clear-glass shower door, Nathan could see Gina's stunning, naked body. The pantyboy was soaping her stiff little penis; rubbing suds all over her tiny testicles; rubbing her bottomhole with a very lucky washcloth. The 18-year-old angel noticed Nathan for the first time and gave the man a 1,000-watt smile. Nathan melted in its glow. Then he pulled open the shower door and entered to face his destiny. Thankfully for Gina (and this story) Nathan had an excellent body. Hard and lean, with hair in the right places. And a fine, seven-inch, thick cock with hairy ball bag as a side dish. Gina gasped approvingly as she looked Nathan up and down. Which was the final spark to ignite Nathan's fires of lust. Just as Nathan reached to pull her into his arms, Gina turned around. So Nathan's arms encircled her from behind. Gina responded to Nathan's touch the way we wish all our lovers would. She gasped with pleasure and leaned back slightly to engage more of Nathan's skin with his own. The shower water fell on the lovers as Nathan rubbed his stiff penis against the sweet furrow above Gina's ass cheeks. He kissed the young lovely's neck, reveling in Gina's response. Gina's little whimpers and mews of pleasure nearly made Nathan lose his man's cream right then. But he soldiered on. Kissing the young beauty's neck. Reaching around to rub his soapy hands on Gina's large, erect nipples. Making the pantyboy pant with lust. Gina turned her head back, inviting an open-mouthed kiss and Nathan eagerly accepted. Without disengaging from the kiss, Gina turned herself so that she was once again facing Nathan as they kissed. And rubbed cocks. Then Gina rubbed her soapy hands on Nathan's cock as they kissed until Nathan begged her to stop. "I want to fuck you, Sweetie," he said. Gina moaned in anticipation. Then she turned away from Nathan and raised her hands. Placing her flat palms on the shower wall and spreading her legs. Pushing her bottom toward Nathan. The kind of thing that should happen for more of us more often. [Sigh] Anyway, Nathan had only had intercourse twice in his life and neither was of the anal flavor. But that didn't stop him. The concept was simple enough and Nathan was a top executive. He entered Gina's bottom with two soapy fingers, just to make sure she was ready for a good, stiff fucking. Gina was VERY ready. And her delicious moans and gasps as Nathan fingered her pootie made the whole experience better for both of them. Nathan found Gina's prostate and, believing that a delay would prolong his later pleasure, Nathan tormented the pretty boy's prostate with his naughty fingers until Gina was screaming, shuddering and shooting out her sperm in big, creamy globs. Nathan could wait no more. Gina had barely spurted her last semen drop when Nathan removed his fingers from Gina's anus and placed his thick cock at the entrance. Thinking briefly, "This wasn't exactly what I thought I'd be doing tonight," Nathan slid his cockhead and half of his shaft into Gina's tight, but welcoming pussy. Gina cried out in an agony of lust then begged for "all of it" in an almost unintelligible murmur. Nathan, feeling like the Studmuffin of the Western Hemisphere, obliged the needy beauty. The scream Gina emitted was worthy of the collective cacophony of a full theater when the teen girl goes into the abandoned shed to see if the monster is there. In reality, Nathan's cock, while very pleasing to Gina, didn't hurt the oft-fucked angel at all. But she knew a good scream makes a man feel more like a super-hung stud. That was a bit of fakery, but the four-star orgasm Gina just had was 100% real. Gina liked Mr. Harden. He was handsome, hunky and younger than most of the AGW executives. Mr. Harden hadn't gotten over "sissy shock" yet. But he would. They all did. Nathan wasn't thinking about sissy shock as his cock plowed the hottest, sexiest tunnel it had ever visited. He was thinking about what was promising to be the biggest orgasm of his life. The kind that sends you lots of progressively urgent signals, then, when you've abandoned your resistance to its consummation, it throws you out the airplane door at 20,000 feet with no parachute. You feel it all the way to your little toe. Three more thrusts and...two...and Nathan moaned and emptied all his bodily fluids into the asshole of the new love of his life, Gina Somebody-or-Other. Gina gripped Nathan's cock with her asshole as Nathan was cumming, making the pleasure almost agonizing. When it was over, the exhausted lovers turned the water off, dried each other and got into bed naked for some gentle kissing and fondling. Until things got too hot for such a calm approach. Half an hour after Nathan's orgasm to end all orgasms, he pumped a huge load of his sperm and semen down young Gina's throat. One hour after that, Nathan ate out an asshole for the first time in his life. And made Gina spurt and fall madly in love with Nathan. Gina expressed that love by sitting on the prone Nathan, then sliding the man's stiff cock into Gina's sopping bottom hole. Gina leaned over and kissed Nathan as she rode the man's cock for almost an hour. That third, and nastiest orgasm made Nathan wonder whether his death benefit package was in order. Afterwards, the lovers cuddled and went to sleep. Eager to rest so they could refuel for the next round of corporate incentives. Chapter Three - Gina's Day Off The next morning, Nathan awoke in the most wonderful manner possible. His cock was being sucked by an amazingly beautiful pantyboy who appeared to be in ravenous pursuit of Nathan's sperm. Nathan's eyes fluttered, almost opening but not quite, as he remembered the details of the greatest night of his (or anyone's) life. Four rutting, heaving downloads of his sperm into Gina's utterly delicious bum. Innumerable kisses of passion and lust. Just before Nathan fell into an exhausted sleep, he vowed to propose marriage to Gina. They would run off together to a secluded beach somewhere and make love forever in a grass hut. Details to follow. As soon as he heaved his morning load down Gina's sweet throat, Nathan would keep his vow. Oh! That would be occurring very soon. Gina's mouth was amazingly talented. Nathan's back arched and he FLUNG his sperm down Gina's throat, crying out most unmanfully. When his pleasure abated a smidge, he opened his eyes to thank Gina, kiss her, and ask if he could satisfy her in like manner. Which would be a first for Nathan. But something he intended to add to his sexual repertoire. And then things got strange. As if living in a corporate pantyboy harem weren't strange enough. The incredibly beautiful face smiling at Nathan, cum drooling from its lips, was not Gina's. It was another pantyboy! Every bit as delicious as Gina. With short, boy-length hair like Gina's. But not Gina. "I'm glad you liked that, Mr. Harden," the young beauty said. "Would you like me to suck you to a second stand so we can fuck? I'm all lubed for you?" Nathan's eyes bugged a bit. "Who are you?" he asked, reasonably enough. "Oh," "Sorry. I'm Linda. Gina asked me to spend time with you today. It being Saturday, you'll be off all day and we can have fun until six. Then just call the concierge and he'll fix you right up. Unless..." [pouty face] "you don't like me." Nathan was quick to dispel that. "I like you a lot, Linda. And I definitely want to make love to you. But what happened to Gina? And why can we only have fun until six p.m.?" "It's all in the member's handbook, Mr. Harden. I know you haven't had a chance to read it yet. But the only thing that would kill our wonderful club would be jealousy. So no pantyboy can be with a member more than 12 hours every three days. No one can break that rule. Not even Mr. Stiffman." Nathan considered that for a moment. Maybe he wouldn't have to abduct Gina and take her to a place where no one used toothpaste. Especially if..." "Are all the ladies as beautiful and 'friendly' as you and Gina?" Linda smiled. "Oh yes, sir. Gina and I are only average." Impossibly, Nathan's cock was hard as Gibraltar when it was 18 years old. "On your back, please, Sweetie. With your knees up. Legs apart" Linda complied eagerly. Meanwhile, Gina was getting herself ready for her weekly day off. Although there was often perspiration during its activities, the AGW corporate harem was no sweat shop. Each of the girlie-boys had a day off each week. Plus a week's vacation each quarter. If they wanted it. Some of the 30-plus pantyboys in residence chose to never take a day or a week off. Reasoning that they were already in the best possible situation on earth, so why ever leave? Most went home once or twice a year. Either to visit family, show off their stunning femininity to their childhood acquaintances, or both. Gina took all the time off she was given. Not because she disliked "working" at AGW. On the contrary, Gina ADORED her job, her co-workers and the Club members who were her "gentleman callers." Gina left the executive club floors when she could because she loved being admired. Not that there wasn't a lot of admiration going on at AGW. The members deeply (very deeply) admired the "ladies in residence." But who could live in such a paradise without becoming a bit jaded? The members saved their deepest admiration for the two or three startlingly beautiful "twelves or higher" who passed through the Club at the peak of their youthful sexuality. At that moment, Gina knew that to include pretty much only Alicia (a clear 13) or the astounding Vanessa (a 15 in anyone's book). More about them later. Gina, as a mere 11, was truly lost in the crowd. But on the streets of New York, where she spent most Saturdays, Gina was a traffic stopper. Gina had slipped away from the exhausted Mr. Harden at 6 a.m. and napped in her own bed until 9. She arose, piddled and bathed. Then called the kitchen for two poached eggs on wheat toast. Which was delivered perfectly ten minutes later. The pantyboys were all treated like princesses by the staff. And the pantyboys reciprocated in the sweetest possible way - with hungry, filthy, screaming sex anyway the staff people wanted it. Gina watched the news as she ate her eggs. Then she set to work on her make-up. She didn't want the slutty look that many members wanted from their "dates." No sense overdoing her sexuality in public. She made her face up as if she were going to work as a second-year associate for a big law firm. Pleased with her delicious, cosmetized beauty, Gina slid on a pair of impossibly sheer, black stockings, then hooked them to a very naughty garter belt. She stood in front of one of the six full-length mirrors in her bedroom and liked what she saw. Gina didn't have Vanessa's two-inch-diameter nipples or 1.25-inch eyelashes, but she was very beautiful. And her little penis was painfully hard. The poor girl hadn't been fucked in nearly seven hours! Her tiny peener was painfully stiff. And her little peanuts were aching. Gina gave herself seven or eight long, slow, foreskin tugs and, oh my. She drenched the mirror! Again. Maybe for the 100th time since coming to AGW seven months earlier. Days after her 18th birthday. Back when Gina was known as Karl Schickelgruber from Sandusky, Ohio. Young Karl had been wearing Mommy's clothes since he was 10. When Mommy inevitably caught Karl, the pretty boy didn't act the least bit guilty or remorseful. Which eventually convinced his single mother that she should tolerate Karl's "interest" in femininity. By the time Karl was in high school, Mom was encouraging Karl to crossdress. And date boys. And join a rogue branch of the Miniskirt Club. Perspective here. When the Mormon elders renounced polygamy, not all the church members heeded. Some "cultists" continued to enter multi-wife marriages. When the national Miniskirt Club changed the age range from 14 to 25 to 18 to 25, some rogues roguishly kept a secret club of 14 to 17-year-old rogues. Karl was such a rogue. AGW did much of its "recruiting" through contacts in such secret clubs. Paying huge finders' fees to any club leader referring an eventual AGW Club hostess. Karl's mother was approached by an anonymous recruiter. Karl was approached. Karl was interviewed for the position. In a number of positions. Karl's mother got a huge payoff. Karl got a dream job. That let him live full time as Gina. Tax-free salary of $200,000 per year. And a scholarship fund that would take him through a PhD at any school in the galaxy. And Karl loved cock! The job gave Karl cock. All he could eat. It was perfect. That Saturday, Gina wiped off her penis tip with a lucky Kleenex and continued dressing. The staff would clean up. Gladly. She wore a lovely little powder-blue dress, hem just above the knee. With a peter pan collar. Over her black panties and bra. Black, patent- leather, three-inch-stiletto pumps. Yum. For the billionth time, Gina bristled at the AGW rule that required the hostesses to have boy-length hair. But she augmented it with a barrette and a ribbon. Maybe the hair-length wasn't an entirely awful idea, she thought. It was certainly attention grabbing. Add Gina's obviously flat chest and one would wonder what was under that skirt. A little mystery. And naughtiness. Gina blushed at the thought that the wind could blow up her skirts and expose her panties and [blush] stiffie in her panties. Gina was always stiff when she was walking around town. She shuddered at the shame of being exposed like that in public. And had to breathe heavily to calm down and make sure she didn't soak her panties. Gina said goodbye to Nigel, who was the on-duty concierge that Saturday morning. Goodness. Nigel hadn't fucked her in nearly two weeks. She was going to have to be less neglectful. Then Gina took the secret elevator to the third basement. Got out. Boarded the tunnel tram that went for five blocks. Got off and onto a second elevator to street level. Then emerged into open air a safe, undetectable distance from AGW. From a building marked as a modeling agency Oh my. Were men stopping in their tracks to stare at her beauty? They were! Lots of men. Oh dear. Gina soaked up the adoration. Then soaked her panties. She couldn't help it. It was even better, in some ways, than when Mister Stiffman, her favorite lover, fucked her perfect bum. Good thing she had three fresh pairs of panties in her tiny purse. Gina squished along for two blocks, all but stopping traffic. Then ducked into the ladies room of a ritzy hotel to change her panties. Leaving her soaked panties on a coat hook in the ladies room. Gina decided to sit for a while and see what developed. She went outside to an outdoor caf? and ordered an espresso. The waiter brought it immediately and was drooling when Gina crossed her legs. Gina wore her sunglasses so that she could check out the men (and women) checking her out. They were legion. After an hour of that, Gina arose, paid her check and clacked off. Wiggling her bum most deliciously. For three blocks. And entered the New York Public Library. Her manner was a bit more purposeful as she entered the stacks in the science section. Where no real American would ever go. Deserted. Gina knew that none of the men drooling over her would follow her into such a place. Filled with sciencey book-learnin'. Safety. She looked to her left. No one. To her right. No one. Suddenly... From behind. Gina felt a hand move under her skirt. And hot kisses on her neck! The rude hand was manipulating her foreskin! And the kisses were burning her flesh. Gina sighed. "Right on time, Eric!" she said. And she turned her head so that her lover could kiss her full on the mouth. Gina had met Eric three Saturdays earlier. When she had ducked into the science stacks to catch her breath and shoot her sperm after all that male adoration. Eric was a librarian. Eric was the head librarian in the science section. At first, Eric was not a feast for Gina's eyes. He was only Gina's height in heels. He wore big glasses. But he was nice. And, as Gina discovered within 20 minutes of their acquaintance, Eric had the biggest cock Gina had ever seen. And Gina loved cock. Gina and Eric owned the science section. They could and did engage in all sorts of filthy delights there. And, once he revealed "The Beast" to Gina, Eric owned Gina. Gina's teeny peeny didn't put Eric off one bit. He adored Gina's penis. And, when he took Gina to his studio apartment that first Saturday after his shift, Eric licked and sucked it, ate Gina's bumhole and fucked her silly. Gina was in love! Eric was in love: But, as Gina explained, she was involved in a very hush-hush clinical trial for six days a week for two years. So she could only see Eric on Saturdays. After which, they could run off to Fiji together and fuck in a grass hut seven days a week. Eric didn't believe a word of it. But you don't call someone a liar when she's giving you leg-staggering sex every week. Eric and Gina would just have to be happy with Saturdays for the moment. That particular Saturday, Gina was delighted to hear Eric say that he had managed to get the rest of the day off. Which meant that they could go to Eric's humble digs and fuck in private. And comfort. Like grownups. Though the thrill of fear in being discovered would be missing. So a compromise was struck. Right there in the stacks, Eric bent Gina over and sliced her bottom hole with his fat penis. Until she spunked deliciously. Twice. To Eric's once. Then they gathered up panties and such and went off to Eric's place for some serious fucking. Eric was under no 12-hour restriction. And Gina wasn't due back until 10 a.m. the next morning. They made good use of the time. All of it Chapter Four - Alicia (the 13, remember?) The policies and procedures of the AGW Executive Club had been honed to a sharp point over the club's 36-year history. It seems so silly today, but in 1981, the Club founders thought they could run the club with female hostesses. Females!!!! Uncooperative, nagging, manipulative, emasculating, sexually-uninterested females!! Who could and did get pregnant. Not to mention the one-week-a-month downtimes. Moody downtimes. Jealousy. Disinterest. Lack of sexual empathy. Indiscretion about the Club. It was a disaster. And almost killed a beautiful idea. Until Bradley Boner, a junior VP at the time, suggested pantyboys. First thought of the members - "But I'm not gay." Second thought - "Who are those amazing babes whom Bradley just brought in?" Third thought - "Oh my! They have stiff cocks." Fourth thought - "Bradley, you're a genius." No recorded thoughts after that. Bradley's portrait hangs in all the common areas of the Club. Other brilliance was born of failure over the years. Jealousy and possessiveness threatened the Club until the "Fuck her all you want, but only for 12 hours out of each three days" rule. Those were the biggies. A notable tweak was the policy that prevented new members from fucking any hostess rated over an 11 during the first 60 days of membership. It was all about shaping expectations. So there was no way that Nathan was getting his hands on or cock into Alicia (rated a 13) or Vanessa (a 15) for at least two months. Too bad, Alicia thought. Mr. Harden was young and hung. But she couldn't complain too much. Alicia had all the cock any pantyboy could ever want. Attached to nice men. Who adored pantyboys. And especially adored Alicia. Though some of them were kind of old. Two were in their sixties. Four in their fifties. Though those six were still skilled, caring lovers. Alicia loved them. But she also loved her day off. Which was Tuesday. Alicia sucked the absolute last drop of Mr. Seaman's ball juice out of his gently squeezed testicles and sent him off to work that Tuesday morning. Mr. Seaman was such a dear. Alicia adored the time she spent in carnal combat with the sweet man. Mr. Seaman was 48. Just finishing his fourth year of Club membership. So he was ardent about making up for not earning membership when he was 35 or so. Among the world's biggest lies is, "I'm leaving my wife for you, Pumpkin. I mean it!" When Mr. Seaman became a member, he moved into his AGW apartment that day. And served Clara her divorce papers that week. Clara got a huge settlement. Mr. Seaman got all the pussy he could eat. A win-win. Alicia kissed her lover du jour sweetly. Right on the glans. Then gathered up the lingerie she had worn to their sleepover and slid out of his room. She pranced down the hall. Naked, except for stockings and garters. On big heels. Delicious bottom swaying. And leaking cum. A lovely sight. Besides being the second most beautiful lady in residence, Alicia had the biggest cock of them all - 7.34 inches. And it was almost always stiff, dripping and hungry for her men's kisses. Alicia smiled to see her "sisters" emerging from their paramours' rooms. Carrying their lingerie. Facially spermed. Bums drooling spunk. What a wonderful place the AGW Executive Club was! Five of the lovelies shared an elevator down to the 62nd floor, where each pantyboy had a small, private apartment. Despite their passion- and sperm-filled nights, Kathy and Donna were arranging a morning "lezzie" hookup in Kathy's room. "I'm not fucking anybody until I get some sleep," Heidi said. "Mr. Longstroke's cock didn't sleep at all last night." Nicole agreed. Alicia just smiled. Weekdays at the Club were member-free until they finished work at 5. The ladies usually hooked up with the concierges or staff members. Or each other. Or just slept. Alicia had a better plan for her day off. She napped until 11. Then breakfasted. Showered. And ordered a costume change from Central Logistics. Alicia was going to play "Waiting for Daddy." A thrilling but dangerous game. Out in the big world. Like Gina, Alicia dressed and took the secret exit. Out on the street, Alicia almost caused a riot. Not only because of her beauty. Also because of her outfit. Alicia was wearing the kind of dress that 11-year-old girls once wore to a birthday party. Pink. With lots of petticoats. And MUCH exposed leg. No stockings. Little, white, girlie socks, with pink ruffles. And single-strap, black, patent-leather, Mary Jane shoes with a two-inch, block heel. Thank goodness Alicia only had to walk a block and a half to her objective. Wild packs of men were already forming and surrounding her. Alicia entered a very ritzy hotel and set about acting out her fantasy. The beautiful angel looked distressed. Sitting nervously in a plush chair. Then pacing. Watching the hotel's front door. Drawing the attention of exactly the kind of person Alicia had targeted. Justin Richman was a 48-year-old captain of industry. Staying at the ritzy hotel after hammering out a lovely business deal that would oppress the masses and ruin the environment. America First! He was about to enjoy a late lunch before going back to his room and making lots more money over phone and Internet. But then he spotted Alicia. And every pore in his body tingled. Justin wasn't a pedophile. Exactly. But he did have some fantasies in that direction. The sight of Alicia, looking impossibly beautiful, young and distressed aroused feelings Justin didn't know he had. Was that empathy, he felt? Yes. Yes it was. Along with lust. But empathy. Pondering all that could have robbed Justin of his opportunity to help that delicious young lady. Then fuck her later. So he moved toward her quickly. And got to Alicia first. "Excuse me, Miss," Justin said, empathetically. "Are you all right?" Alicia looked at Justin and sized him up. Handsome. Prosperous. Good shape. He would do. She began to sob miserably. Oh no. There was that empathy thing again. Was Justin becoming a Democrat? Heaven forbid. But he stepped forward and hugged Alicia through her convulsive tears. Finally, Alicia managed to sob out, "Daddy was supposed to meet me here and take me to Tiffany's birthday party. But he's late again! Probably playing cards and losing the rent money." More sobbing. That didn't seem completely plausible to Justin. How did the little doll end up dressed like that in a ritzy hotel? When her father kept losing the rent money? But men eventually learn not to look gift pussy in the mouth. "That's terrible, Sweetheart. You shouldn't have to sit in this lobby with all these men staring at your pretty legs. I have a room here in the hotel. You can call Daddy from there and he'll know you're safe. And I have Coke and Pepsi in my minibar." Alicia looked indecisive. But then she asked, "Do you really think my legs are pretty?" Got her, Justin thought. Got him, Alicia thought. But on the elevator ride up, Alicia was having her usual second thoughts when she picked up strangers for filthy anal and oral sex. Did Justin really think Alicia was an 11- or 12-year-old girl on her way to a birthday party? If so, he was a na?ve loser. Not to mention a perv. Though she didn't exactly dislike pervs. Did Justin really think Alicia was a genetic girl? If so, he could get nasty, even violent when he saw Alicia's pretty popsy. He couldn't have seen Alicia's big erection under all those petticoats. But what if he didn't like her after he saw her penis? Not bloody likely. The longest elapsed time between when a man discovered Alicia's stiffie and had it in his mouth had been four minutes and 22 seconds. Justin had no such thoughts on the elevator, other than - pussy! Yeah! Pussy! Men are simple creatures, after all. As they entered the room, the dance continued. "There's the phone if you want to call your Daddy, Sweetheart," Justin said. "Would you like a Coke or a Pepsi?" Looking all shy about being in a man's room, Alicia said, "Pepsi, please, sir. I'm sorry, but I can't remember Daddy's number. I guess I'm just too upset." Upset, Justin thought. Time to be a hero. "Would a hug help calm you down, Honey?" Alicia appeared to weigh the offer, then said, "I guess so." Good enough. Justin moved carefully toward Alicia and took her into his arms. Nice. Alicia loved men. Men loved Alicia. Alicia took a chance. She rubbed her stiff, petticoated cock against Justin's trousered cock. Justin's eyes opened widely! Oh my! Was that...? Yes it was. Bonus time. Justin made his fourth move. "What's that hard thing doing in a pretty girl's panties? Is it standing up for me?" Alicia snickered at that. Then said, "I guess so." Her last effort at being hard to get. Justin kissed Alicia. With tongue. As he ran his hand under her petticoats to feel her popsy. Oooh! Justin didn't expect such a big one. Actually, he didn't expect any such thing at all. But there it was. And Alicia was responding to his touches with gasps and squeals. Time to see exactly what he was dealing with. Justin sat on the side of the bed, drew the standing Alicia to him and eased Alicia's petticoats down and had her step out of them. Oh! She was wearing white cotton panties! With little pink bows at the hips. Justin loved the white cotton panties. It made for an even more perverted fantasy. And who doesn't like that? The little panties were severely tented. Was Alicia bigger than Justin? No matter. Alicia didn't resist when Justin lowered her panties. She stepped out of them and awaited her fate. Justin took Alicia's red, skinned glans into his mouth and gave it a delicious suck. Two minutes and 42 seconds from discovery to fellatio. A new record for Alicia. And a great kickoff to her Tuesday. Or anyone's Tuesday. Had it been a Tuesday when Alicia had first wandered into her destiny? Yes it had. Six years earlier, when Alicia was 12, she was a boy named Ralph in Salem, Oregon. Left alone at home for the first time "on his honor" by Mom and Daddy, Ralph decided to tarnish his honor in every way possible without being caught. He made himself a nice "screwdriver" from Mommy's gin and orange juice, then began to look through Daddy's things for porn. Nothing in Daddy's closet. Could he be hiding porn in the traditional place - between the mattress and box spring? Yes. There they were! Six full color, large format magazines filled with pictures or superannuated, bleach blondes with big, bare, unnatural boobs and bored expressions. Try as he might, Ralph couldn't even pop a boner from all that. He dug his hand into the stash a little deeper and found the pearl. Something called "Panty Boy" magazine! Wow! It was filled with beautiful boys dressing as girls. With make-up and stockings and stuff. And doing sex things with men. Big, hunky men! Three takeaways from Ralph's perusal of "Panty Boy." 1) Daddy must be gay if he pulls his penis looking at that stuff. 2) Ralph must be gay because he was almost overcome with wild surmise as he watched the boys' bumholes being savagely ravaged by huge cocks - and the boys were enjoying it. 3) The big bonus - Ralph shot his spunk before he got to page 5. Again at page 22. And page 36. Oh my! Was Panty Boy telling Ralph something? Ralph stuffed everything back except for the Panty Boy, which he concealed in his room and "visited" often over the next three weeks. Until Daddy caught him "reading" and wanking. Mom and Daddy were good about it all. The enlightened parents offered to enroll Ralph in the local Miniskirt Club when he reached 18. But Ralph had seen his destiny and he would pursue it immediately. With or without parental approval. They relented. And arranged for Ralph to join the local Rogue Miniskirt Club, which accepted one when one was 14. Except for Ralph, who was just too fucking beautiful. And they accepted him at 12. Ralph became Alicia. Alicia began to dress as a girl full time when she was 13. And led a very "active" life with local boys and men. The local Rogue Miniskirt Club leader recognized what an asset he had in Alicia and, as she turned 18, hooked Alicia up with both Nick Nickerson, publisher of Panty Boy, and the regional recruiter for AGW. Alicia chose AGW because a) they offered a better benefits package and b) she wasn't sure she wanted her fuck pictures all over the Internet all her life. Alicia had blended well with the AGW membership. Very well. And she LOVED her job. She also loved taking risks on her day off. Thank goodness that Justin was proving to be safe and loving. And a way better cocksucker than Alicia could have hoped for. As Justin was licking her "arrow point" so deliciously, Alicia managed to wiggle her white cotton panties down to her ankles, where her petticoats had already dropped. She was grunting and squeaking with real lust as the unskilled-but- enthusiastic fellator licked and sucked her pretty knob. She wanted to warn him about her imminent cumstorm, but could only manage a squeal as she pumped a delightful dollop of sissy cream into the Alicia-hungry man's throat. Being a gentleman, protective of Alicia's clothing, Justin swallowed it all. An awfully good performance for a first-timer. If we can believe Justin's version of events. Anyway, swallowing Alicia's cum load made Justin randier than ever. He stood, pulled Alicia's dress up and over her head (she was wearing a little girl's strappy t-shirt!!!) and laid the bare-except-for-frilly- socks-and-Mary-Janes beauty on her back on the bed. The angel's limp sissy stick was drooling sperm. Her nipples were still erect from sexual heat! Justin had already tasted her cock. He went for her nipples. Right one first. Licking. Sucking. Engendering wilder screams from Alicia than when her cock was being sucked. The lovers at AGW, as a rule, weren't into nipple adoration. Alicia loved nipple adoration. Big points for Justin. Before migrating to Alicia's left nipple, Justin stood and ripped off his clothes. Yum! Alicia thought. Justin was dishy. With a nice cock. Smaller than hers, but she was used to that. Back to the welcome task at mouth, Justin dove for Alicia's left nipple. Sucking and licking most artfully. Meanwhile, he introduced two fingers to Alicia's bumhole. Which Justin reasoned would be where Justin would be having the most fun that lovely Tuesday. Justin seemed to have a particular knowledge and skill in prostate location, manipulation and aggravation. Again, this may not have been Justin's first male-pantyboy or male-male encounter. My notes are unclear on that. But he was as good at prostate massage as anyone Alicia had met. And she had met a bunch. The inner-bum massage was enhanced by Alicia's full irrigation in her preparation for possible (probable) fucking. The young beauty spunked hard. Which was all the invitation Justin needed to raise her knees, and plunge his rammer into Alicia's inner regions. It was a glorious fuck. Followed by seven hours of intense pleasure. Until Justin escorted Alicia to a cab so she could return to her very hush-hush clinical trial that went on six days a week for two years. But she took Justin's number. And would call him one of those Tuesdays. Chapter Five - Vanessa Vanessa was an unlikely 15 (of 10 on the "guy's rating scale," When she was a 17-years-and-9-months-old high-schooler, she was an unlikely 3. Partly because she was still a boy. And not a very good looking one. Robbie Putzmeyer was a nerd. In appearance. Not in the science/technology/engineering/mathematics sense. In fact, he was far from a genius. But people assumed he was smart because he wore thick, black rimmed glasses, matched plaids with stripes and had rampaging acne. Ugly and dim-witted is no way to go through life. And that would have been Robbie's fate. Had it not been for the intervention of Robbie's very own Henry Higgins - Brandon. Brandon was the best recruiter AGW had ever had. He could spot a diamond in a broken-glass pile. Somehow, in San Antonio, Brandon spotted Robbie. And approached Robbie's single mother. Who was thinking that when Robbie graduated high school, if he did so, he would be bagging groceries and living in her basement. Brandon painted a different picture. Hundreds of thousands of dollars for Mom. Lots more for Robbie. And all Robbie had to do would be to "train" to be a pantyboy, then let lots of men fuck his ass and mouth for two years. "Where do I sign," Mom asked sagely. Brandon gave Robbie's Mom a $10,000 testing fee - more to follow if Robbie passed his training. Though Brandon was sure that Robbie would do so. Brandon was never wrong about such things. Who wouldn't want to evolve from ugly duckling with no prospects to a beautiful swan with a fuck-filled, wealthy future? No one Brandon had met. Mom called Robbie to meet Brandon. My goodness, Brandon thought. He could be my greatest creation. Though the only thing the usual observer would see was a skinny, pimply, shy, short, dim-witted boy, Brandon saw a potential 12. Brandon introduced himself to Robbie and explained what his mother had just committed him to. "Robbie, I see you as someone other than you are right now. Someone far better. Someone whom people will adore." Robbie thought, what a load of crap. This guy's a dork. And he uses that "whom" word. But he listened. Mostly. "Robbie, you're going to undergo anywhere from two to three months of training. If you pass, and I'm pretty sure you will, you'll be enrolled in a program that, not only will you love. It will set you and your mother up for life financially. And that's at a minimum." Brandon had Robbie's attention. And curiosity. "What is it?" the lad asked. "Good question," Brandon said, trying not to sound patronizing. "I will clear your acne, give you better posture, rid you of your glasses and make you more beautiful than you can imagine. Then I will teach you ways that you can use that beauty to ensure your future, as well as a sex- filled present beyond anything you could imagine." Well. That sounded good to Robbie. Though he didn't really consider all the possible ways that would all happen. He thought maybe the guy had a way of making Robbie a super-stud. Which would be great because Robbie's score thus far with girls was a big zero. Sure, He would try it. His smile was his acquiescence. Robbie's smile, the first Brandon had seen, reassured Brandon that Robbie would be at LEAST a 12. "OK, then," Brandon said. "Let's go to our training facility." "Now?" "Now." "Don't I have to pack?" "We have everything you need. Kiss your Mom goodbye. You'll see her in four or five months." Robbie had never had an adventure. He wanted one. He got one. AGW's training facility was in Indianapolis. A nondescript building in a nondescript town. Brandon personally escorted Robbie to the plane and they arrived at the facility at 11 p.m. No one was around, but Brandon checked himself and Robbie into a lovely hotel-like suite within the facility. Brandon gave Robbie the bedroom and took the pullout couch. Robbie was exhausted. And very curious. He fell asleep immediately until Brandon awakened him for an in-room breakfast for two at 8. Robbie had slept in his underwear and wore that to breakfast. The two ate, mostly in silence. When they were finished, Brandon suggested that Robbie take a shower. He did so. When he had dried himself off, Robbie found that his clothes had disappeared. The only garment in the room was a pink bathrobe and pink, fluffy slippers. Now, you or I would have said, "Pink?" and perhaps balked at wearing the gear. Robbie just put them on and went looking for Brandon. Who was in the suite's other room with a nice looking, 40-something man. "Robbie, this is Dr. Medici. He's going to get you into contacts and help you with that acne. Then he'll give you a physical," "OK," Robbie replied docilely. And followed the doctor down the hall. Three hours later, Robbie returned to the suite that he and Brandon shared. Brandon knew that Dr. Medici had not engaged sexually with Robbie. That was not in the plan. And veering from the plan would have gotten Dr. Medici fired and cut off from the world's finest pussy. Already, Brandon could see what had drawn his attention to Robbie. Without glasses and with abated acne, Robbie was already approaching stunner. The boy's 1.25-inch--long eyelashes were stunning in themselves. But when Brandon saw Robbie's left nipple through an opening in Robbie's robe, the man almost creamed his pants. Robbie's areolas were two inches in diameter! Could Brandon pick 'em or what? "How did it go today, Robbie?" Brandon asked. "It was cool. Everyone was super nice. Will I get some clothes now?" "Later. How about some lunch?" They ordered and ate in the room. After lunch, Dr. Medici reappeared and took Robbie to get his yellowish teeth whitened. Robbie reported to Brandon that he hadn't liked that very much, but everyone was super nice. They had dinner in the room, then settled down to watch some football on TV. At bedtime, Robbie said, "I don't want to complain, but I haven't had any clothes all day. Should I wear this robe to bed?" Brandon said, "Certainly not. There's a nightshirt laid out for you on the bed. Let me help you with it." As was his apparent habit, Robbie followed Brandon docilely. Though "nightshirt" was a new concept for him. Oh my! That was a nightshirt? And he was supposed to wear it? It was filmy. With lace at the collar and at the knee-length hem. "It's a girl's nightie, Brandon" Robbie said. But he didn't say he wouldn't wear it. In fact, he shucked the robe and slid the nightshirt over his head very quickly. Then he hustled over to the bedroom's three-way mirror to admire himself. And to like what he saw. The lad looked for a long time. Brandon didn't interrupt. Or mention Robbie's obvious erection. Eventually, Robbie disengaged from the mirror and walked to his bed. He got under the covers said, "Good night, Brandon." And turned off the light. Had Robbie deduced that Brandon and his accomplices were about to turn Robbie into a cock-hungry pantyboy? Was Robbie smarter than Brandon thought? Or was Robbie so self-unaware that he just liked his new look, even if he had to wear that weird nightshirt? Questions to worry about the next day. Brandon lay on the pullout couch and fantasized. Should he slide into bed with Robbie? Spoon up to him? Kiss his neck while rubbing his manly cock into Robbie's ass crack? Reach around and wank Robbie through a hard spunk.? Be the FIRST to do filthy, homosexual sodomistic acts with someone who Brandon KNEW would be a prize beauty for his employer? [Sigh] If only. The plan was to slowly get Robbie to transform into a pantyboy princess. Then it would be Brandon's job to convert Robbie into a cockhound named Vanessa. A prospect Brandon relished. Over the next days of that first week, the routine was the same. Robbie, dressed in a pink tee and pink short-shorts, would take lessons in posture and deportment. Get his anti-acne treatments (which were working well), and learn odd things like "fashion" and walking in shoes with higher heels. Robbie didn't buy it when they told him his makeup lessons were therapeutic for his acne. But he paid attention and learned, Did Robbie understand the big picture of what was happening to him? What we do know is that Brandon wanted to fuck Robbie very badly, even though Robbie was still mostly boy. Even without makeup, girlish clothes, or feminine mannerisms, Robbie was extraordinarily attractive to heterosexual Brandon. Poor Brandon would have exploded if he hadn't been able, while Robbie was at training, to fuck some of the pantyboys who staffed the other parts of the training center Robbie slept alone in their suite. Wearing a nightshirt. Ate breakfast and dinner every day with Brandon. And watched TV with Brandon every night. They became very familiar. Friendly even. Talking mostly about Robbie's dismal youth Brandon was baffled at Robbie's incurious attitude. He never asked Brandon why he was in training or what would happen when training was over. Things changed the second week of training. As usual, Robbie came back to the suite after his training day. But he was acting a bit differently. Brandon gave Robbie a good look and saw that the boy was wearing lipstick! And he was blushing ferociously. Brandon almost came in his pants. The boy was already an 11! Without all his eventual weapons. Brandon was about to ask Robbie about the lipstick, when Robbie began to sob. Brandon took Robbie into his strong, manly arms to comfort him - the closest physical contact they had had. Which made Brandon cum in his pants. Ooops. "It's all right, Honey," Brandon said when his orgasm had nearly subsided. [Thank goodness that Robbie didn't notice.] Robbie sobbed louder. And said, "I think they want to make me a girl!" Well. It took Robbie a bit longer than 95% of the population to figure that out. But there they were. Brandon held Robbie more tightly and asked, "How do you feel about that, Sweetie?" Robbie stopped crying. And, with great effort, thought. "I don't know. It would be all right. I guess." Bingo! Carefully, Brandon proceeded. "I think you would be an amazingly beautiful girl. And you would be adored by everyone who met you." Wow. Robbie stepped back. Looked askance at Brandon. Decided he wasn't being bullshitted. And went to look in the bedroom mirror. For nearly an hour. Then he came back to an anxious Brandon and said, "Maybe you're right. Can we have dinner now?" Whew. They ate and conversed in their usual way. And watched TV as usual. But, for the first time, Robbie sat on the loveseat with Brandon instead of in a separate chair. Brandon, who had had the sense to change his pants while Robbie was admiring himself, wondered if he should kiss Robbie, strip him and give him a good, stiff fucking. Which had been Brandon's strongest fantasy for weeks. But Brandon was a professional. And knew that slow would win that race. When Robbie got up to get dressed for bed, he came back, not in his usual night shirt, but a much girlier pink nightie that Brandon didn't even know Robbie had. Robbie said, "Thanks for the compliments and advice." And, for the first time, he leaned over and kissed Brandon on the cheek. As Robbie wiggled off to bed, Brandon was unsuccessful at warding off a second spunking of his pants. Brandon liked his prospects in coming days. And he was right about that. After training the next day, Robbie was wearing full makeup. A very modest schoolgirl uniform, knee socks and single-strap Mary Jane shoes. Good golly! Robbie posed a little for Brandon and asked, "What do you think?" Brandon flooded Robbie with superlatives. Which made Robbie blush. And, unless Brandon's vision had deteriorated, made Robbie stiff in his panties for the first time since they had been together. Robbie limited his mirror time to a half hour that night. At dinner, Robbie said that the teacher had told Robbie that he would be wearing lots of sexy girl's clothes. Clothes that excited men. "I told her that I wasn't sure I wanted to excite men. Except maybe you." "Fuck her now!" Bad Brandon screamed from Brandon's left shoulder. While on his right shoulder, Good Brandon said, calmly, "Wait at least two more days." Brandon wanted to strangle Good Brandon, but he followed the advice. Mostly. Robbie sat on the loveseat and, with his eyes, beckoned for Brandon to join him. Brandon did so with alacrity. He took Robbie into his arms and kissed the pretty boy. Robbie's first kiss. Brandon's 1,237, 852nd. But his best. Robbie was an amazingly sweet kisser. And his tongue was delicious. As we know, it's not really kissing until the cocks come out. They came out. But not right away. Brandon steered Robbie to the suite's king-sized bed and laid him on his back at the foot of the bed. Feet on the floor. Reverently, he lifted Robbie's skirts to reveal his pink, cotton panties. And the stiff pole that was tenting it. Brandon had never seen Robbie's cock. He ached to do so. Slowly, as Robbie panted with lust, Brandon slid Robbie's panties up and over his cock and revealed the young beauty's young beauty. Brandon gasped. The beautiful object stood five inches tall. It was circumcised! Which Brandon considered desecration of a masterpiece. Yet, the lack of foreskin seemed to be appropriate for Robbie's penis. Its exposed knob was dark pink and leaking fiercely as Brandon drank in its beauty. The AGW talent scout training guide says that one should never go oral the first time a "candidate" shows you her penis. Fuck the training guide. Brandon licked all of the pre-cum off Robbie's glans in one delicious swirl. Delighting in Robbie's cry of lust. Then he applied all of his tonguish skill to Robbie's penile pleasure. Brandon kissed, licked, sucked, nuzzled and masturbated Robbie's cock until the boy screamed out Brandon's name and shot his sissy cream in seven glorious ropes! Brandon couldn't lick it all up, since Robbie was still wearing his schoolgirl outfit. So he just licked Robbie's exposed penis and testicles clean. Until poor Robbie was in quite a dither again. Seized by the urge to kiss Robbie again, Brandon temporarily abandoned his oral interests and moved to where he could look into Robbie's beautiful eyes before he kissed him. Robbie's eyes were moist with love. He parted his pretty, liptsicked lips and asked, as innocently as you please, "What was that?" Oh! Was that Robbie's first orgasm? It was. Was Brandon the luckiest man on earth? Probably. "That was an orgasm, Sweetie. It's the greatest feeling on earth. Did you like that?" Robbie blinked. And nodded. "Can we do it again?" Brandon's answer was to tonguekiss Robbie with all of passion and experience. While stroking the sissyboy's reborn cock. Robbie had no idea how to stroke a cock. He didn't need to. Just touching Brandon's six-incher with his soft, warm hand was enough to make the man shoot his baby bullets. Robbie watched with awe as Brandon shot his manly cream. The boy's ignorance was great. His experience was non-existent. That would change soon enough. Brandon set out to imprint himself on Robbie's psyche so that he would always be "available" for Brandon. No matter how many Mr. Stiffmans would fuck him. He gave the young beauty a heavenly hand job and thrilled along with Robbie as the boy paid his second tribute to Eros. Four hours later, Robbie was completely arid as he shuddered through his fifth handjob. He had given Brandon four trips to paradise. The two lovers slept together that night, though there was no oral or fucking. Before they climbed into bed for sleep, Robbie asked Brandon to call him Vanessa from then on. The delighted Brandon improvised a nice, little, within-the-bounds sleep sendoff for them. Both were lusciously naked. Both had pools of sperm surrounding their navels. Brandon mixed their sperm and rubbed it between Vanessa's thighs and on her prickhead. He then spooned up behind her, slid his cock into the channel formed by her cum-lubed thighs and slid his cock back and forth as he gave her a nice reach-around. After that ballbuster, mutual cum, they fell asleep, as Brandon reviewed his future approach to Vanessa's full recruitment. Brandon's seduction plan for the next two days was to save big-time oral for the next night and fucking for the night after. As Good Brandon had counselled. But Good Brandon didn't know how Vanessa would look when she came to the suite after the next day's training. The Love Angel wiggled in in full makeup. Legs encased in black, seamed, fully-fashioned, reinforced-heel-and-toe stockings. Garter belt. Minidress. Big heels. He sat in the room's comfiest chair and beckoned Vanessa to join him. Vanessa's giggled and wiggled her way over to Brandon's lap. Oh! She was perfection! She even smelled great. White Shoulders, was it? Was the green light really on for everything with Vanessa that night? Good Brandon seemed to be taking the night off. He put his right hand on Vanessa's left thigh. Rubbing her stocking. Watching her twitch a little in her excitement. Apparently, Vanessa knew her time had come. The man slid his hand above Vanessa's stocking top. Feeling the glory that was Vanessa's bare thigh. They kissed tonguely as Brandon slid his rude hand onto Vanessa's pantied penis. Vanessa gasped. He rubbed her knob against her pink, silken knickers. Kissing her deeply and sucking her tongue. Vanessa cried out and, for the first time of many that night, she poured out her sweet, girlish juices. It was very messy. Until Brandon asked her to stand and hold her skirts up. Ever the gentleman, Brandon slid Vanessa's sweet panties down to mid- thigh, then licked off all the sperm and semen from Vanessa's pretty penis and pink purse. Oh dear! That made Vanessa hard again. Very hard. Allowing Brandon to properly and officially deliver a lesson on oral sex. The good kind. With lots of saliva. And fingers wandering into Vanessa's bumhole. Unaccustomed as Vanessa was to her skyscraper heels, Vanessa fell forward as she shot her sperm down Brandon's eager throat. Brandon caught her. And eased her to her knees. Where she ventured eagerly into her first blowjob delivery. She delivered it well. Pressing his luck and his advantage, Brandon waited until Vanessa had licked him dry, then stood, unzipped Vanessa's minidress and helped her divest herself. Leaving the femboy prodigy in only her black bra, stockings, garters and heels. The sight of which should carry a warning label for the faint of heart. Brandon corralled Vanessa into the bedroom, stripping himself in the process. And there they were. Two magnificent specimens. A full bottle of Spermbutt Anal Lubricant. And 14 hours until Vanessa's ne