The Boss’s Son Ch. 02 - His Little Secret

The next few weeks Jackie and I settled into our routines. She fit right in with her new sales team. I found that Andrew's managing style made an engaged and energetic work environment. I did have almost a daily reminder of Terry. He was in the center of a large family photo Andrew kept behind his desk.

One Friday morning Jackie and I were just getting to the office, when Andrew gave me a call. He had taken the day off and flying down to Nashville for Vanderbilt's Homecoming weekend. He started by apologizing to me saying he had left a couple scan disks on his dresser and needed to look at some reports over the weekend. He asked if I would, please, go over to his home, pick them up and email them to him. I assured him it was not a problem. He gave me the codes to the front gate of his community, his front door look amd the security system in the house. I dropped Jackie off and I drove to his home.

As I let myself in, I noticed the home security system was disabled, thought nothing of it, they probably just forgot to arm it. I went upstairs to their bedroom. The door was open. And there stood Terry.

He was admiring himself in a full length mirror. He had on a short, black sequenced, backless evening dress that barely covered half his thighs. I assumed it was his mother's. Mid-thigh black, back seemed stockings with a wide lace band at top. They accentuated his long toned legs. He kept turning his knees, as if stepping in place, putting the toe of the three inch black high heel on the floor and then switching to the other. He ran his hands up and down smoothing out the sides of the dress. His head turning slightly as he admired himselh in the mirror. p He turned, looking over his shoulder, smiling as he looked up and down his sleek little image. He turned back around, still eyeing himself.

I noticed he had applied makeup. His lips ruby red, blush and masscara. A loose pearl necklace around his neck. This 18 year old boy looked stunning.

I crossed my arms and leaned against the door. He noticed the movement in the top corner of the mirror and turned facing me. His whole body shivering in panic. His knees buckled, an ankle turned on the high heel. He caught himself as he almost fell.

He gasped. His eyes opened wide. Then he recognized me. In a trembling voice, he asked, "Mr. Miller, what are you doing here?"

I smiled, righted myself, tugged on my suit jacket, "Your father asked me to pickup some info he forgot." I pointed to the scan disks on the dresser. "So here I am."

He stood straight, looking at me. I could still see the fear shaking through him.

Still shaking, "You aren't going to tell my dad, are you?"

That thought hadn't crossed my mind. This little faggots secret was safe with me. My mind was blank as I walked across the room to Terry. Standing over him, I looked down.

I'm 5.11, 190 lbs, in pretty good shape.

He looked up at me with those big puppy dog brown eyes. I inhaled his scent. I coud tell he was wearing perfume. Damn, this sissy boy goes all out when he dresses up.

I put my arms around him. Pressing his arms against his sides. He put his head on my chest. I ran my fingers over his bare back. His skin warm, silky smooth to the touch. God, he was so soft, as his body leaned into mine, he seemed to melt in my embrace.

I eased my arms from around him. He looked up at me and I bent down to kiss him. He didn't move. His sweet, minty, warm breath flowed across my face into my mouth as our lips met.

When I our lips separated, I leaned back up. Terry looked up at me, "Please" he begged.

Please? Please what? Please stop? I could easily force myself on this little 18 year old boy, make him do whatever I wanted, anything I wanted. I could do whatever I wanted to do to him, with him. He couldn't stop me. Shit, not tell his dad? I could even blackmail his tight girlie ass.

But his 'Please' was for me to kiss him again. He raised his hands up around my neck, stood on his heel covered toes, stretching, pulling himself to kiss me. I bent down to answer his 'please'.

My tongue explored his mouth, washing over his teeth and gums. Our tongues met, slowly played with each other. My fingers enjoying the warmth of his naked back. I placed one hand on the back of his head. His long hair was silky smooth. My cock growing stiff, stuck inside my boxers. He sighed into my mouth. This wasn't this boys first kiss.

I remember his father telling me Terry attend St. Marks, an all-boy Catholic Prep school. At the time I had laughed to myself thinking, he must be awfully popular there. Probably with both the students and teaching staff. Now I was sure of it. I wondered if that how he got straight A's?

I moved my head away from his and placed my hands on his shoulders. Looking him up and down. "Wow, you're hot." He smiled knowing he had said the same when he had met my wife.

I then slid my hands over his bare skinny arms, over his hips and rested them on the hem of his dress. I knelt before him, resting my ass on my calves. I took my fingers, carassing his thin nylon encased thighs. Feeling the straight seem on the back of his legs. As I moved my hands back up, they pushed the hem of his dress exposing his thumb sized circumsised dick underneath his mother's black, sheer lace, panties.

I was mesmerized. I leaned closer. His small cock head tucked down in his mother's panties. I got a musky whiff of stale pussy and pee odor coming from the undies.

Shit! The little fag was wearing a pair of his mother's worn panties. God, does he get off on wearing her used panties. An image of him lying on his bed, naked, his feet wide apart. One hand fisting his petite stiff dick, the other holding his mom's soiled panties to his face. Inhaling, licking and sucking on them. His sweet, girlish voice, crying softly, "Oh mommy, yes mommy, suck it mommy, suck my cock, please mommy. Oh mommy, let me taste you mommy, let me, please mommy, please." My thoughts running wild.

I pushed his heeled feet about a foot apart. His hands went to my head so he could keep his balance. I tugged the panties down, stretching them just above his knees. His pubic area was hairless. I assumed his classmates and teachers preferred him that way. The quarter sized helmet of his semi-hard cock pointed at my face.

This was the moment were fantasy becomes reality. I inched my face forward, kissed the head of his pee hole, licking it, got my first taste of pre-cum. A salty, musky flavor. I had tasted my own cum second hand from Jackies cunt or on her lips, but never fresh like this. As I sucked the entire head of Terry's undersized cock head into my mouth, he moan loudly. His hands gripping my head tighter, his fingers tangling in my hair. His cock grew firmer in my mouth. Still it was barely four inches in length and as about the girth of my thumb.

Terry now moaned softly as I sucked and manipulated his entire tiny dick in my mouth. Washing, savoring, massaging it with my tongue. My hands massaging his nylon covered thin thighs. I pushed my face further onto his cock, stuck out my tongue and realized I could lick the underside of his taut, hairless, ball sac.

Reality, at this moment, over took any fantasy I could ever imagine. The feel, texture, taste of this young boy in my mouth. His smell, the smell of the perfume, the warmth of his skin through his nylons. Was I sucking a young boys cock or playing with a little teenaged girl? Everything mixing together in pure forbidden pleasure.

I lost myself in him. My hands moved to his tight butt cheeks. I squeezed them, pushed them forward, trying to get every last bit of his shaft in my mouth. I eased my head back, when I did, Terry started to pump is dick into my face. Ths little faggot was fucking my face. His tiny dick hammering into my head. I let him skull fuck me.

Then he pushed his cock as deep as he could. Held still. I felt his cock head expand. I gently squeezed his ass and the little bastard, groaning out loud, came in my mouth.

My first taste of fresh cum. Its creamy texture, salty, sweet and sour taste. I gulped it down, wanting it, feasting on his essence. His second load seemed larger than his first, yet I had no trouble drinking it all down my throat.

He was gasping for air. I looked up, his head titled back so I couldn't see his face. He sounded like he was now sobbing. I felt his hard cock pulsate and a third smaller wave of cum flowed past my sucking lips, into my waiting mouth, over my lapping tongue and down my throat.

I kept sucking on his dick, draining it. The same way Jackie does to me.

His little pecker started to lose its firmness. His fingers released his grip on my hair. I pulled my head back letting his softening cock slip out of my mouth. Sitting back on my calves I turned my head looking at myself on the mirror, kneeling before this 'girl'. Her black dress above her waste. Her nylon covered legs still being held in my hands. His mother's panties still stretched above his spread knees.

Terry looked into the mirror staring down at me. That little faggot was able to watch himself and me in the mirror. That little bitch watched himself fucking my face. I felt betrayed, angry, for some odd reason. Maybe it was because I had just sucked cock and was mad at myself. Maybe I felt like he had somehow planned this, knowing it wasn't true. Maybe it was how I couldn't refuse him, his beauty. This power he seemed to have over me. How I couldn't resist him?

I stood and glared down at him. Thinking how he had gotten off staring at us in the mirror.

I was still in my suit and tie. I hadn't even bothered to take my suit jacket off.

He looked at me, seeing the anger on my face, Terry asked in that girlish pleading voice, "Are you going to hurt me?"

As I looked at Terry, the lines then became blurred. Was he a boy, girl, both or what?

I looked down at this small, skinny teenaged girl. Her brown eyes searching my face for an answer. Hurt her?

She leaned forward and just above a whisper, she added, "You can if you want too. I like pretending I'm being forced, made to do stuff. You can make me do whatever you want."

She leaned back, looked up at me again and bit her lower red painted lip. This time with a kind of smirk on her face.

She likes to role play being the helpless little girl? Is this how the boys at school treat her, use her, hurt her?

I stood there for a minute, looking at her, trying to digest what she had just said, what I was thinking and what I was going to do.

My reaction surprised both of us.

Next: "You can make me do whatever you want."