Puppy Love

(Part 1 from 3. Fiction.)

John watched secretly from the wing as the stripling made ready for appearing on stage as budding, young Juliet. The part had been given to Robin after much controversy within the group. At the end of the day, the players split into two factions: the revolutionists and the traditionalists. The former insisting that the role be played by a local professional actress, the latter insisting that the Shakespearean tradition should be upheld by letting a man play the part.

John had cut through the discussion using his final say as director to force through Robin's getting the part. The board of directors had supplied Robin with the proper costume and Robin had passed surprisingly well as the ambling nymph.

John felt himself getting hard as he beheld the stripling pulling a pair of golden, satin-panties in place around his lean hips. Obviously, the kid took the part a whole lot more seriously than was required by etiquette. The mature man savoured the sight of the boy's radiant, white skin and firm buttocks, tightly clenched in the lustrous fabric. Oh, how he would love to run his hands down the rounded film, to slip his hands inside to prod a finger up that tight arsehole. John let out a repressed gasp and rubbed the lump in his trousers frantically against the set piece he was propping up.

Robin, with much labour, put on an elegant, rosy dress, which reached all the way down to his ankles. It had a low-cut cleavage and puff sleeves which added to the illusion of a girl in her early teens. Robin was of small stature and delicate build, and, as Robin went on to making up his face and, subsequently, putting on a fair, sleek wig, John congratulated himself on having chosen such a deserving actor for the part. John observed that the boy had even shaved his legs. Robin was beautiful, and John was painfully aware that he coveted him. Incidentally, he also knew that Robin had recently turned 19.

The nymph now ran his slender hands down his body, so as to smoothen the dress, he then bent over slightly and jerked the fabric which had crawled up the crevice between his cheeks. John noticed to his delight that the boy's nails were varnished. Oh God, such feminine hands! He could almost feel them fondling his balls! John unzipped his trousers carefully and jerked his prick gently.

The boy suddenly stopped his scrutinising survey of his body and froze in his present position. John froze too. Had he been found out? But the boy bent over and picked up something from the floor. It was a handbag. John recognised it as belonging to one of the actresses. What was the boy up to? Stealing? He would hate to come on unfriendly terms with Robin, but if he was pinching money from the employees, he knew he had to intervene. Just as he was about to step forward, Robin pulled out what seemed to be a flesh-coloured dildo from the handbag. John silently drew into the shadows again, eager to learn what the boy would do next. For a time, Robin seemed to explore the artificial phallus, running his red nails up and down its sides. John clearly saw the boy's excitement: his eyes dilated briefly, then, half closed, his painted, pink lips parted slightly, and John could tell from the rising and falling of Robin's chest that he was breathing faster now.

Robin stroked his neck with the tip of the dildo and threw back his head in arousal. Letting out little moans, he made his way down towards the fake cleavage and back up again, while he reached under the dress and pulled down his panties suspended between his parted legs. John could see him fondling himself under the dress with one hand. John involuntarily adjusted his rubbing to the pace of the young boy in front of him.

Robin brought the dildo back up to his mouth and circled it slowly for a while. Then, he allowed the tip to slip in between his profusely painted, fulgent lips. Uttering little whimpers and clicking noises at the back of his throat, Robin gradually slit all the way down the shaft. There, he stopped to purse his lips tightly around the root, and then he drew back leaving a glistening trail of pink lipstick and saliva.

After approximately two minutes of this, John could not stand it any longer. He resolutely stepped out into the open and, placing his torrid member directly in front Robin's face, he said "How'd you like to try the real thing, my pretty?"

Robin opened his eyes slightly. John noticed that he had spread blue eyeshade upon his eyelids and played up the eyes using eyeliner. At the shock of seeing John's throbbing member, Robin opened his eyes wide, but John decidedly pressed it against his face. "Come on, Robin, I know that's what you want," John rapped his cock against the pouty lips, "you like the smell of man, now, don't you, Robin?" John whispered, and pressed the bloated head against Robin's nostril, "drink in that sweet aroma!"


Robin looked up at John inquiringly, then, he very gently fondled the prick, as if it was a precious statue. For what seemed an eternity, his hands flickered about searchingly, his nails running up and down the shaft, even into the pee-hole, his pearly-white fingers rolling John's balls between them. Having had the sufficient time to gather himself, Robin's little, pink tongue darted in and out of his doll-like mouth, cat-licking John's by now fully swollen head. As his excitement grew, he, eventually, let go of himself completely and panting violently, covered John's member with kisses of feverish adoration. Circling it with his tongue, he carefully worked his way down and back up again. Robin's face was soon a complete mess of smirched make-up, half of which ended up on John's abdomen.

Robin yawned and allowed John to sink his balls into his mouth. For a time, Robin kept his mouth open, simply flickering his tongue over the sweaty pouch. Then, he softly clasped his painted lips around it and sucked tenderly. John felt the cool breeze of Robin now breathing solely through his nose on his erect phallus.

"Ooooohh," John panted, "Mmmmmm, That's it! Suck them, suck them dry! I know you want what's in them!"
Robin lay back his head and craned his neck. John got the drift and withdrew from Robin's sweltering mouth with an audible slurp. John's erect cock loomed over Robin's mucked-up face as he straddled his puerile, hairless chest. Robin looked up at the very essence of manliness through half-lidded eyes and uttered a longing whimper.

"Please, Sir, bless my mouth with that wonderful tool of yours," he pleaded, "fuck my mouth... Fuck it... Fuck it! FUCK IT... FUCK... FUCK! FUUUUUCK!" Robin's cries grew louder and louder until, ultimately, John saw no option but to shut him up by driving his dick down his throat.

Heaven! John had not felt anything like it in years. The stripling insatiably suckled away at his cock like a new-born calf, his head trashing from side to side in adour. John knew he would not be able to hold out for long in the face of such devotion. He held Robin's face firmly between his hands and the boy stopped and looked up at him in surprise.

"I'll fuck your mouth, all right, you little slut!" he whispered under his breath. He then started to bob Robin's head back and forth in a slow rhythm. Soon, Robin had got the general idea, and gradually began to fuck back. All the while, the boy's eyes where fixed on his face, following every twitch of pleasure in his face vigilantly. John's balls slapped against Robin nose every time he slid down to his face.

To John, it seemed like something out of a dream: his prick in Robin's mouth; the boy he had fantasised about for so long. John looked down at the sweet, youthful face locked between his thighs, stopped, and drew back. The boy, however, had his lips clamped tightly around him, and the effort sent streaks of pleasure through his body. Robin looked up at him, but did not speak. The white in his eyes glinted like mother of pearl. Robin had long, graceful eyelashes. The glossy wig endowed his face with angelic beauty.

"You look very much like a girl," John said smiling, "You are truly beautiful, Robin, I have watched you ever since you first came here." Robin smiled, but still he said nothing. His varnished nails ran slowly up John's legs to his hips.

"Ooohh," John moaned, "Mmmmmm, you're so good!"

A faint smile flickered across Robin's face, then, he pursed his lips and blew softly at the bloated head in front of him. John started in surprise. The boy obviously liked what he was doing.

"I've seen you peeping at me when I'm changing and making myself up," Robin cooed. John began to wonder if he was in control of the situation. He soon forgot about that as Robin placed his slender hands on his buttocks and pressed him past his pursed lips and back into his mouth. With little whimpers of approval, Robin gulped his way to the root of John's throbbing member. John took a firm grip of Robin head, and, burying his member to the balls, pumped fiercely. In a matter of moments, John's world was reduced to sight and the sensation of his prick sliding in and out of Robin's mouth.

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