Click Here
To Join


The author retains copyrights to the story. Please do not distribute it to any newsgroups and/or other web-sites without permission of the author.

  • Take a moment and send me an email, I'd love to hear from you.
    I'm at:
  • All messages are privately screened by me, Chris Carr, and cordially responded to. Thanks!




Bowling Doubles


By Chris Carr


March, 2016


















Part I




His lean figure contorting into his delivery stance, Byron was unaware he was being observed. Slinging the ball down the alley it spun, turning into a slight curve, aiming at the three remaining pins. As it veered off, ramming two but missing the last pin, Byron waited patiently until his ball returned, picking it up to try again.

Sitting quietly at a table behind the alleys, Travis felt flushed watching him. For some time he’d been monitoring the youth, Byron none the wiser. Stilling himself, he arose, approaching as Byron threw the ball again. As he picked up his returning ball, he inquired,

“Byron Leon?” Looking at him, Byron nodded. Extending his hand he said, “Travis Scott. I’m with USBC, Jonah Hall…” Byron’s face lighting up, his parents joined him, “and I’ve been watching you.”

Wiping his sweaty hand on his pants, Bryon extended it to shake Travis’.  At the touch of the boy’s hand, Travis felt a rush. Containing himself, he continued,

“Yes, as you, no doubt know, USBC Jonah Hall provides scholarships for worthy candidates,” He accounted, reaching in his pocket for his card. Handing it to Byron he continued,

 “I just wanted to let you know we’re considering you, among 4 other candidates, for our scholarship this year.” Taking the card, Byron glanced at his parents. Inquisitive looks on their faces, he held up a finger, indicating for them to give him a minute. Watching the exchange Travis stated,

“We don’t have to talk now but when’s a good time to meet for you?” Pausing momentarily to confer with his parents, their enthusiastic response told Travis everything he wanted to know.

“How about tomorrow, after school?” Byron returned.

“That’s good, “Travis said, smiling at his parents. Beaming back at him, they nodded enthusiastically. “I’ll pick you up at the gate.” With a big smile Byron replied,

“I’ll be there!”  

Exchanging phone numbers with the boy, Travis said, “Ok, Byron, see you tomorrow.” As he walked away a flurry of words exchanged between Byron and his parents, the adults practically jumping up and down at the good news.  Head spinning, Travis virtually throbbed as he walked away.

Meeting him at school the next day, Travis watched as he strode out the gate, looking up and down the street for his car. At 5’7”, Byron was average height for a 15 year old, although he had more growing to do. A tempting, mocha-brown, he was lean but not scrawny like a lot of boys his age. His body still developing, it nevertheless filled his stylish clothes, from his t-shirt and team jacket to his form-fitting jeans and smart tennis.

Tooting his horn, Travis alerted the youth which car was his. Opening the car door, Byron slid into the passenger seat, plopping his backpack between his legs as he buckled in. Pulling away, Travis glanced at him, his face heating up again.

“What’d your parents say?” With a broad grin Byron accounted,

“They were very excited.”

“What about you?” Nodding, Byron took it all in stride.

“Oh yeah, me too.” Happy to hear that, Travis drove in silence a while. “You hungry?” When Byron nodded, Travis turned onto a busy thoroughfare, en route to a popular restaurant.

At the restaurant Travis noted that the boy wasn’t very talkative. Studying his menu he’d uttered just a few words since their arrival. Glancing at his baby face, traces of baby fat still lingering about his rounded cheeks, Travis accounted that he was truly attractive. Flushed, he inquired,

“So how long have you been bowling?” His attention elsewhere, Byron looked at him.

“I started when I was 7.”

“Really, how’d that happen?” Silent, Byron looked at him a few.

“My parents had a birthday party for me at Reyes 32,” He quipped.

“And that’s when you bowled?”

“Yes,” Bryon returned. Surmising that getting info from the boy would be difficult, Travis prompted,

“And what happened?” Distracted again, Byron looked back at him.

“Oh. At my party everybody was bowling and I wanted to do it so my folks let me play.” Nodding, he sipped from his water, his attention diverted when a waitress walked by. Thinking maybe the crowded restaurant might not have been a good choice, Travis pressed on.

“Is that how you got into tournament bowling.” With a nod, Byron smiled at him, as if he’d provided all the info needed. Undeterred, Travis moved on.  

“Well, Byron, as I said, there are 4 other candidates being considered for this scholarship so the competition will be fierce.”

The waitress returning with their order, Travis waited until she’d left. Diving in, Byron woofed down fries and bit into his burger. Nothing wrong with his appetite, Travis thought.

 “I’ve been watching your game,” He continued, “and, while it has room for improvement, I’d like to see you win this scholarship.” Holding the fresh-faced boy with a resolute gaze he inquired, “So tell me, what would this scholarship mean for you?”

Eyebrows rising, Byron spouted, “Everything!” When Travis said nothing, he blinked, adding, “Uh… my parents really want me to go to college but they don’t have the money to send me. If I could go to college on a bowling scholarship, that would mean a lot.”

It was the most he’d said that day and Travis was impressed. “That’s good,” He said, still holding him with an intent gaze, “So… tell me why we should give this scholarship to you?”

Setting his burger down Byron paused. Contemplating a few, he licked his luscious, ruby red lips.

“I… I really love bowling,” He started. “And, I know I gotta improve my game but I’m willing to work hard to get that scholarship.” Nodding, Travis picked up his drink, sipping from it before he informed,

“That’s good, Byron, and believe me, I’m going to hold you to that promise but let’s see if we can get you that scholarship.” Reaching his hand to the youth, they shook over the table, Travis loving the velvety-soft texture of his hand. It was a good start. 



Byron's an avid bowler in need of assistance. 




Travis gaining favor with the youth’s parents, they eventually became comfortable with him spending time alone with Byron. Working hard to prove himself to Travis, Byron took on extra practice sessions. Late evenings he bowled, staying as late as his parents allowed. Frequently attending, it wasn’t necessarily his skill Travis was watching. Eyes on the boy’s backside, his heart sored every time his twin curves rotated beneath his cute, form-fitting jeans. His slim body brawny, Travis watched intently as muscles moved beneath the fabric, flexing and pulling each time he moved towards the alley, throwing the ball.

Reminding the youth he was still a ‘candidate’ Travis kept the pressure on, driving him to work harder. Finally, after a late practice he approached him, heart racing as he prompted,

“Good game. I think we need to talk.” Sweaty and tired, Byron nodded. Calling his parents to ask permission, he was eagerly prompted to go with the man. Gathering his things he followed him to his car. Once seated, Travis looked at him, his bright eyes hidden in the shadows of the darkened parking lot.

“You know, Byron, the other candidates are working hard to get this scholarship. In fact, two of them have been eliminated so it’s down to you and two others.” His face lighting up, Byron nodded. Continuing, Travis stated,

“I’m pleased with your efforts, you’re showing real heart out there.” Pausing, he glanced at the boy. “Hey, why don’t we go to my place?” He offered. “We can talk better there.”

“O… K,” Byron hedged, buckling up. Silent the ride over, Byron curiously observed his surroundings, his words few. Watching him, Travis liked his quiet confidence.  

At his house Byron quietly followed him to the front room, sitting opposite him as he sat on his couch. His legs splayed, he leaned forward, waiting to hear what Travis had to say. Glancing up his lean thighs to where they met at his concealed groin, Travis was momentarily distracted.

“As I’ve said,” He finally started, pulling himself together, “I’m liking what you’re doing out there. And we’re down to three candidates, counting you. But, as I also told you, competition is fierce.” Listening intently, Byron nodded.

His palms sweaty, Travis stared at the boy a few, finally dropping, “You know, you could get a shower if you want.” Byron’s eyebrows going up, he quickly added, “Because you just had that long practice session and I’m sure you’d like to freshen up.” Byron still silent he stood, moving towards the back rooms.

Travis’ actions odd, Byron sat glued to his seat. Heart pounding, foremost in his mind was the scholarship. He was so close and, rather than lose favor with the man from Jonah Hall, he slowly rose, heeding his suggestion.

“O… K,” He said, following Travis to his guest bedroom. Grabbing towels Travis showed him the adjoining bathroom, informing him he should get undressed in the room and shower in the bathroom. Showing him the toiletries, Byron slowly nodded, waiting until he left, the evening growing even stranger.

Looking around, he stood in awe, the man’s guest bedroom bigger than the living room in his small apartment. Daunted, he slowly started removing his clothes, eventually making his way to the bathroom. Starting up the shower, he stepped inside, his head spinning.

The shower refreshing, he left the bathroom with a towel around his waist, his close cropped hair glistening with water as he dried it with another. Pausing, he looked around the room for his clothes. Finding nothing, he became concerned. Heart rushing he peered around the room door.

“Hello?” Travis suddenly appearing he seemed surprised.

“Oh, you’re through?” Nodding, Byron peered at him through the nearly closed door. “I took the liberty to wash your clothes,” Travis said. “They should be ready shortly.”

“What am I…? What I’m supposed to wear?” Byron said, his voice stressed.

“Umm… well, the towel I gave you not ok?” His face contorting, Byron returned,

“You washed all my clothes?”

“Well, you’d been sweating…,” Travis said, his voice trailing off. “Ok, hold on a second.”

Dashing off, he left the boy hiding behind the door. Head whirring, Byron couldn’t imagine why Mr. Scott washed all of his clothes. Feeling very vulnerable, he pushed the door closed. Minutes later, Travis returned, rapping on the door and opening it at the same time. Grabbing the extra towel off the bed, Byron held it in front of him, his eyes large as Travis entered. Even though he had the towel around his waist, he almost wanted to tell him to leave.

“How about this?” Holding up a robe that didn’t seem big enough to cover a six year old, Travis handed it to him. Where’d he get a little robe like that anyway?

“It’s my nephew’s guest robe,” Travis explained, as if answering him. Taking the thin fabric garment, he held it before him like it was toxic.

“It’s the best I could do,” Travis stated, “unless you want some of his underwear?” Shaking his head, Byron looked at the robe once more. “I’m really sorry, I thought I was doing you a favor,” Travis said, dropping his head. Watching him, Byron’s face softened.

“No, it’s cool,” He said, pulling his arm through one of the sleeves, wrapping the robe about him as he slipped his other arm in. Tying it about him, he pulled the towel from around his waist, letting it fall at his feet. The robe barely reaching below his groin, Travis ran his eyes up his smooth thighs, his heart rushing.

“Ok, let’s go back to the front,” He said, leading the half-naked youth to the front room. When he sat across from him again, Travis got a flash of his exposed privates before he caught himself and lowered his legs, extending them in front of him.

A clipboard on the table, there were other important looking documents also. Wondering what they were, Byron glanced at them as Travis talked.

“Ok, I hope you feel a bit refreshed now,” He began. Although he felt clean, he also felt exposed, the tiny robe insufficient for him. Slowly nodding, he strained to hear a machine running but heard nothing.

“Good. You know, this scholarship is a wonderful opportunity. I’m sure you’re aware that it’s one of the few that covers your entire tuition, room and board?”

“Yes,” Byron said, looking toward the kitchen. Maybe the machines weren’t in the house, he thought, moving his legs close together. Noting his apprehension, Travis continued,

“I’ve got a form here that all of the candidates have to provide info for. Let’s get started with that.” Nodding, Byron pulled the robe tight about his youthful form... 

“Ok, we need some body measurements. First…” Presenting a scale, he moved it near Byron. “Let’s get your weight.”

Blinking, Byron slowly stood. Standing next to the scale, he looked at it like it was something foreign. Finally, glancing at Travis, he placed his bare feet on the apparatus. His lovely toes either side the display, Travis drooled at them as he recorded the results.

“Ok, good.” And with that, he then produced a soft measuring tape. Extending the flexible plastic material, he pulled it from the boy’s head to his feet. “Let me…” tucking the end of the tape beneath his big toe he instructed, “yes, can you hold it there?”

Standing, Travis held the tape against the boy’s body, measuring his height then motioning for Byron to release it from his big toe. Pulling it towards him, Travis laid it aside. Recording the data on the form, he faced the boy, tape measure in hand.

“I need a few more measurements,” He stated. Moving the tape towards his chest, he made a display of awkwardness, as if the robe was in the way. Finally, throwing up his hands, he muttered, “Here, let me just…”

Untying the boy’s robe, it was just about to fall open when Byron grabbed it, pulling it tight about himself. Freezing, Travis glanced up at him, Byron’s face alarmed.

“Um… I need to get your accurate body measurements,” He asserted, “for the scholarship organization.” Placing emphasis on scholarship, Travis waited to see what he’d do. Clearly uncomfortable, Byron hedged,

“You… you can’t do it through the robe?” Feeding off the boy’s anxiety, Travis felt a surge across his groin.

“I need accurate measurements.” Wishing for his clothes once again, Byron said nothing. Waiting for him to comply, Travis’ balls pulled tight to his groin when he finally untied his robe. No sooner it’d fell open, however, Byron shot his hands in front of his privates.

Again, making a big show of how difficult it was to garner measurements with the boy’s arms in the way, Travis stepped back, a grim look on his face. Hunched over, his hands in front of his privates, Byron eventually got the hint. When Travis tried again, he compromised, alternating hands in front of his privates as Travis passed the measuring tape beneath each arm.

Noting his obvious discomfort, it was a fight for Travis to contain himself. Recording the recent measurement on the form, he turned to the boy, tape measure still in hand. A ‘now what’ look on his face, Byron anxiously held his hands in front of his privates.

Moving the tape toward his svelte waist, Travis appreciated the network of muscles developing about the youth’s abdomen. His physique well-toned, Travis wanted to run his hands over his smooth, mocha-brown skin. Allowing one arm to lift, Travis passed the measure around his waist, Byron alternating the other hand before his privates as Travis made the circuit.

Hands sweaty, Travis noted the measurement, removing the tape. Recording the data, he returned to the distraught boy. Kneeling before him, he motioned the tape towards his groin. Spooked, Byron stepped back. Exasperated, Travis dropped his head. Pinching the bridge of his nose, there was agitation in his voice as he spoke.

“You know, if you’re going to be this uncomfortable about your body, you’re going to have a hard time in sports.” Looking up at the boy, he continued,

“You have P.E. at your school, right?” Byron slowly nodded. “Well what do you do there? Are you uncomfortable there too?”

“I… I… we don’t shower,” Byron sputtered. It wasn’t the first time Travis had heard this. Today’s schools cash strapped, showers were frequently eliminated, much to the poor teacher’s chagrin.

“Well, if you get this scholarship, you’ll have P.E. at the college level and they shower…. Together,” Travis stated. “And this surely won’t be the last time you’ll need to be measured.” Byron’s face a study in conflict, he struggled to process what Travis was saying. Hands still in front him, he stammered,

“But… but like… what you gotta do?”

“I need your inseam measurement,” Travis tersely stated.

“What… what’s that?”

“From here to here,” Travis quipped, grazing the boy’s balls then moving his hand to the floor. Jolting when Travis grazed his balls, Byron fought hard to stay in place. Watching his reaction, Travis reveled in the brief sensation of near hairless, boy balls.

Wanting to comply, Byron was extremely uncomfortable exposing his privates. Travis’ terse response unnerving, he knew he wasn’t pleasing the man. Unconsciously shifting his weight from one foot to the other, he finally offered,

“Can you do it from the back?” His heart leaping into his throat, Travis was at first speechless. Coercing the boy to reveal his privates reward enough, a chance to see his luscious ass was even better.

“O… K,” He quickly consented, his heart thundering...




A representative from a prestigious scholarship organization, Travis is in search of candidates.







Moving on his knees behind the boy, he paused, the deviously short robe barely long enough to cover his brown swells. Lifting the tape towards his pert mounds he swooned, Byron’s ass marvelous. Hands sweaty, he croaked,

“Uh… can you…,” Pushing on the boy’s ankles, he prodded him to widen his stance. Byron’s cheeks snapping to attention, they were partly separated, the robe delineating his cleft. Heart palpitating, he raised the tape measure. Without asking he lifted the robe as he moved it between his legs. His face inches away from his most prized possession, Travis fought the urge to lay his cheek against them.

Unable to resist the urge to smell them, he moved close, wafting in the sweet aroma of boy ass. Flinching once again when he felt Travis lift the robe off his ass, Byron closed his eyes but made no protest. For the scholarship, he kept telling himself.

Passing the end of the tape between the boy’s legs, Travis grazed it against his taut balls, Byron twitching at the sensation. Holding it there this time, he stretched the other end to the floor, paying no attention to the measurement. His eyes on the boy’s sweet mounds, he worshipped at the altar of teen perfection. Byron’s ass proportional to his slim figure, though it wasn’t necessarily fat and juicy, it was in no way flat. A perfect balance of firmness and roundness, his cute, boy curves more than fit the bill.

Holding the tape measure against the boy’s balls as long as he dared, he finally rolled it up. That he could just gently kiss one cheek, he lamented, finally standing. A prominent bulge in his pants, he readjusted, doing his best to conceal it as he walked around the boy. 

Recording an arbitrary number in the form, his hands trembled. “Ok,” He croaked, looking up at the boy. Immediately, Byron pulled the robe about him, tying it in place. Having glimpsed the fine specimen of teen physique Travis’ desire was ignited. Stilling himself, he stood, facing him.

“I’ve got a question, Byron. How bad do you want this scholarship?” Blinking, Byron gulped.


“As you think on your answer,” Travis interjected, “let me tell you that the other candidates have moved closer to completion or been eliminated based on their answers.” Holding the boy with a resolute stare, Travis waited for his answer.

“Uh… well… like I said, a full scholarship would mean a lot.” Hesitating, he blinked at Travis. Thinking a minute, he nervously added, “So… like… I wanna do what it takes.” Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, he looked anxiously at Travis.

“Well, let me say I haven’t been pleased with your progress, especially as it concerns tonight.”

Fidgeting with the robe, Byron gulped, “Oh, why not?”

Holding him with a stern stare Travis informed, “As I told you, getting your measurements is required for the scholarship. The candidates who have moved forward had no problems with this. In fact, they were very helpful.”

Allowing him time to process, Travis crossed his arms across his chest. Staring off into the distance, Byron nervously blinked, biting his lip. Glancing at Travis, his face told him he wasn’t happy. Looking into the distance again, his mind was a blur.

If the man from USBC Jonah Hall wasn’t happy, he wouldn’t get the scholarship. That alone troubled him, his parents pressuring him to give up bowling because they weren’t convinced he could get sufficient funds for college in such an obscure field of sports. But he also didn’t like displeasing the important man from Jonah Hall. Losing his favor could become problematic.

“Ok, Mr. Scott, whatever you need,” He finally conceded. His arms still crossed, Travis stared at the fidgeting boy.

“I want you to think about what you just said,” He stipulated. Casting him a sideways glance, Byron looked into the distance again, his heart fluttering.

“You said ‘whatever you need’,” Travis reiterated. The statement apparently requiring a response, Byron replied,

“Yes…,” His voice just above a whisper.

“Well, I’m going to hold you to that, young man. I’m a very busy man and I don’t have time for foolish games, understand?” 




What happens when a horny recruiter gains access to a nervous teen? 




“Let me start by saying, the candidates that have moved forward passed this test with flying colors. They didn’t complain, gripe or resist, understand?” Slowly nodding, Byron looked puzzled.

“As I said,” Travis continued, moving towards the boy, “nakedness is a norm in sports. So… let’s see if you’re really ready.”

Staring into the boy’s eyes, he pulled on his arms until Byron understood he wanted him to move them. When Byron finally realized what he wanted, his eyebrows anxious raised, his face alarmed. Mr. Scott wanted him to show his privates? What did that have to do with the scholarship? And why had the other boys gone along? A thought bubbling to the surface, he blurted,

“Mr. Scott, I’m not gay.” Pausing, Travis almost laughed, Byron’s reaction so typical. Maintaining his serious gaze he replied,

“I’m not either.”

“Oh… oh no, I wasn’t saying you…” Byron stuttered. Smirking, Travis said,

“Oh, you meant the other candidates?” Letting his arms go, Travis shook his head. “You’ve got a lot to learn about being a professional athlete, Byron.” Shaking his head again, he continued, “Ok, well, I understand. You’re not ready for this.”

Walking to the table he started gathering up his forms, moving them all into a single stack. Removing the measurement form from the clipboard, he placed it on top of the others. Reaching around his couch he pulled out a valise. As he placed the papers inside he stoically supplied,

“Your clothes should be dry in a few.” Apprehensive, Byron watched, his heart dropping when Mr. Scott told him his clothes would be dry soon.

“So… so, what’s this mean?” Looking up, Travis taunted,

“What does this mean? It means we’re down to two candidates now.”

Walking towards the kitchen, Travis left him alone to stew. He’d never washed the boy’s clothes so they were dry. Standing in the utility room a while, he wondered if his gamble would work. After a few minutes, he gathered up the boy’s clothes and returned. 

“Ok, you can get dressed in the room, if you’d like.” Mouth open, Byron looked like the deer in the headlights. His eyes moist, Travis wondered if he’d been crying?

“Mr. Scott…” Blinking, a pearl drop of moisture formed in his eye. “I… I’ve never…” Distraught, he stared at Travis for some time. The whole scheme in the balance, Travis offered no compromise. Wiping his eyes, Byron looked away, his hands moving away from his groin. His dick semi-hard, Travis stared at it, frozen in place. Finally looking up, he quietly inquired,

“So, no more games?”  Glancing at him, Byron softly intoned,

“O… K.”

“Because, we’ve barely scratched the surface, Byron. There’s a lot more we’ve got to do and I need your cooperation,” He insisted. A defeated look on his face, Byron nodded consent... 




You won't believe the things Travis has in store for Byron!




Moving towards the boy, he reached for his throbbing inches then stopped. “Just one more thing,” He stated, pulling what looked like a measuring cup from beneath the couch Byron had been sitting on. Plopping it on the table in front of him, he reached his oiled hand towards the boy’s extension.

Taking it in hand, Byron’s tiny whimper was music to his ears. As he began stroking his upright post, Byron trembled, his breathing audible. His hips involuntarily pulling back, he practically double in two, his groin pulled back. Guilty grunts escaping him, he stared into the distance, his toes grabbing at the carpet.

In a matter of minutes he began trembling and panting. His hips moving forward, his back was soon arched. Chest rapidly rising and falling, his face looked like a person trying to push out a huge turd. Loudly huffing, he slowly rose up on his toes, his dick prominently extended before him.

His oiled hand salaciously slipping up and down the boy’s pleading pipe, Travis waited for the promised delivery. Byron’s luscious body fully exposed before him, he licked it up with his eyes. The boy’s strained physique glorious he was thrilled at their rapid progress.

So many wondrous things to behold, Travis watched as he pushed his hips forward. His boy nipples erect, they were like two tasty treats atop his heaving chest. His stomach sucked in, Travis appreciated his taut muscles, down to his newly formed bush. The hair fine, it formed a full covering about the root of his dick. His balls pulled tight, he was primed to deliver.

“Mr. Scott… it’s…” Picking up the beaker, Travis held it in front of his hard-as-nails growth. His face pulled into a grimace Byron peered down at the beaker just as his dick started...




Byron’s game suffered following their session, his mind was distracted. Too many thoughts circling about his head he found it hard to believe his recent actions could be justified. At times he’d recall what he’d done and become momentarily distracted, idly standing with his ball in hand. When the images of Mr. Scott stroking his hard inches would surface he’d shake his head in an effort to stop them. Still idle he wondered how he could have let the man touch him that way. Then he’d recall the promise of a full scholarship and the bad thoughts would abate, his heart skipping at the incredible notion.

Mr. Scott stopped by a couple of times, his distracted efforts seemingly of no consequence as he praised him for his perseverance. “Just keep trying,” He’d encourage, smacking Byron on his pert ass as he left. Good practice or bad, Mr. Scott kept returning and Byron came to rest in that. As long as the representative from Jonah Hall was in his corner, all was well.

Mr. Scott approached him after one of his abysmal practices, all smiles as he told Byron he had some more ‘info’ he needed to get for the scholarship. “Want to go to my place?” He smiled. Nodding, Byron was apprehensive. He hoped they wouldn’t do any of that nasty stuff again. Calling his parents he informed them he’d be with Mr. Scott to which they readily approved.

Thrilled to be alone with the boy again, Travis could hardly contain himself. At his house he perused his slim form, his close fitting clothes granting him lusty glimpses of what lie beneath. Showing him to the couch opposite him, he chatted with him a while, hoping to put the boy at ease. Pulling words from Byron always difficult he finally moved on to the issue at hand. 

“Byron, remember I told you there was a lot more to do?” Nodding, he visibly tensed up. “Yes, well, we’ll get to those but there was an error with the last measurements.” Frozen, Byron’s expression was stoic.

“It’s not that serious,” Travis rushed ahead, pulling out the ominous forms, “but I missed a measurement.” Producing the hated tape measure he gazed at the boy, as if waiting for him. His palms sweaty, Byron couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Are you friggin’ kidding? Was Mr. Scott expecting him to get out of his clothes again? And… his mind skipping ahead to the horrible conclusion, he nervously licked his lips, his eyes blinking.

“It won’t take but a minute,” Travis assured, his eyes practically dancing. Dread and fear gripping him, Byron stuttered,

“I… I gotta…?” His mouth dry, he couldn’t finish the sentence.

“Oh no!” Travis replied, his dick already hard. “It’s just a minor measurement.” Standing, he stepped around the coffee table, tape measure in hand. “Just stand up,” He said, pulling on Byron’s arm. Slowly complying, Byron stood, his heart thundering. Immediately Travis reached for his pants. When he felt him unbuckling his belt he jumped, grabbing Travis’ hands before thinking.

“I thought you said I wouldn’t have to take me clothes off?” He deplored. Put off by the boy’s resistance, all of Travis’ excitement was thwarted. Pulling his hands from Byron’s firm grip he looked up at him.

“I’ll need to at least open your pants,” He informed. Unable to hide the alarm on his face, Byron just wanted all of the gross activities to be over with. How many measurements did Mr. Scott need? Reluctantly moving his hands, he made no protest when Travis reached for his pants again.

Snatching them open, Travis lifted his shirt above his navel, moving Byron’s hand to hold it in place. Pulling on his form-fitting jeans he wiggled them past his smooth round ass, exposing his svelte mid-section. His dick dangling before him, it was partially fluffed. Lying above his balls, the head swelled as Travis watched it.

Anxious, Byron felt dirty and exposed. Praying he could soon cover up he wasn’t sure what to do with his eyes. Staring through the furthest wall he’d dart down to observe every few seconds. But Mr. Scott wasn’t doing anything. Standing beside him, tape measure in hand he kept staring at his dick. Nervous, Byron didn’t bust hard like before. It was too embarrassing, standing there with his dick out in front of someone looking at it. Finally looking at him, Travis inquired,

“You can’t get it hard?” His heart dropping into his stomach, Byron wished he could be anywhere but here. Here we go again, he grieved. Licking his lips, he glanced at him as he spoke, heart in his throat. Looking away, he nervously licked them again, wetting the ruby red surface. His mind a blur one thought made its way to the surface: ‘Just do it and you’ll be over with it’.

His breaths increasing, he glanced down at his now dormant member. Just get it hard, he conceded, agreeing that the sooner he complied, the sooner he’d be done with it. Staring at the far wall he willed his dick to respond. Slowly filling, he felt it rise. No sooner it’d filled, throbbing before him, Mr. Scott laid the tape measure at the base of his dick, extending it to the tip. His dick erect, Travis had to crank it down to get his measurement. Sensing the man’s hand on his sensitive glans, Byron skittered, his eyes closing.

Holding the boy’s anxious growth as close to horizontal possible, Travis’ fingers trembled as he ran the vinyl tape along its length. Gathering his measurement, he finally let it go, his heart fluttering as it snapped upright.

As Mr. Scott recorded his findings in the form Byron wanted to ask him if he could cover up. Nervously holding his shirt aloft, he stared at the far wall, his dick still wickedly hard. Then, to his horror, Mr. Scott started opening his pants. Eyes bugging, Byron immediately looked away...


Skittish, he watched as Mr. Scott aimed his dick beside his anxious member. “Ok, you take mine and I’ll take yours,” He said, as if it was something guys did every day.

“Huh?” Byron blinked, certain his ears were fooling him.

“It’s the only way I’ll be able to get the measurement,” Travis insisted.

“What kind of measurement?” Byron goggled. Impatient, Travis spat,

“A comparison measurement. I’ll use my measurement as a base and measure it against yours.”

Uncertain, Byron looked at him for some time. When he didn’t move, Travis thought to show him, gently taking the boy’s hardness in hand moving it beside his. His breathing rapid, Byron watched as he held it and looked up at him, as if to say, see?

‘Base measurement’, ‘sexual quotient’, Byron struggled to comprehend why all of these ‘measurements’ were needed. Accepting they must’ve had importance he’d never understand, hand trembling, he slowly reached it towards Mr. Scott’s wickedly hard offering. The shaft hard, it throbbed anxiously besides Byron’s the head pointing upwards. Cranking it down, Byron aligned it besides his growth.

Picking up his tape measure, Travis subtly moved his hand about Byron’s length. When the head started leaking, he surreptitiously spread it about the boy’s sensitive head. Light exhalations escaping him, Byron’s toes wiggled in his tennis. Letting his growth go for a second, he stretched the tape across his length, feigning measurements. When he seized Byron’s proffered length once more, Byron smothered a gasp, Mr. Scott’s fingers raking across the sensitive underside.

Trembling and smothering gasps, Byron felt his sap rise, his hair-trigger response summoned. Mr. Scott subtly stroking his fingers about his length as he took measurements, he felt it build behind his balls. His hips were edging forward as he trembled upon a ball-busting release when Mr. Scott calmly stated,

“You know, I may be able to help your parents.”

Trembling on the verge, Byron gawked. Looking quizzically at him, he trembled and fidgeted as Travis continued stimulating his sensitive glans.

“My… my parents?”

“Yes,” Travis plainly stated, his fingers insidiously dragging the youth closer and closer to release. “With their immigration status?”




A master manipulator, Travis will thrill you with the things he puts Byron through!




“Do it like I’m doing yours,” Travis leered, salaciously strumming his fingers about Byron’s upright post. Hips wiggling, Byron let out a gasp as Mr. Scott’s hand finding every hot spot about his anxious dick. Guilt surfacing, were it not for his parents he never would’ve allowed such things. The incredible prospect before him, he bit back his guilt and tightened his grip around the man’s hardness. Studying Mr. Scott’s actions, Byron worked his tightly gripped fist up the man’s throbbing length.

When he softly sighed, eagerly encouraging him to do it again, Byron felt like he was doing something right. Soon, he and Mr. Scott were openly stroking each other, as if racing to see who’d blast first. His competitive side surfacing, Byron’s teen libido raced ahead, his hips edging forward, his dick leaking anxious boy juices. Under any other circumstances he never would’ve done such ugly things but, considering the benefits, he stroked Mr. Scott’s dick, his mind dancing around the idea he’d help his parent gain citizenship.

When Mr. Scott started moaning, his burgeoning delivery approaching, he concentrated his efforts. Toes gripping the soles of his shoes, Byron whooped, his hips shooting forward as hot lashes of boy cum eagerly shot forward.  Gasping and moaning right behind him, Travis equally unloaded, blasting urgent volleys high and far. 




Excited with the progress he was making, Travis could hardly contain himself. He couldn’t believe the boy he’d secretly watched for so long had been naked in his living room, dick hard as nails. The possibilities limitless, he wanted more.

Using the scholarship as leverage he took the boy home for more ‘information gathering’ sessions, coaxing the skittish youth out of his clothes which would inevitably lead to mutual jack-off sessions. Bryon stiff as a board, however, his involvement was detached and cold.

Tiring of his lackluster performance, Travis decided to sweeten the pot. Their next session together as he coaxed him out of his clothes for yet another body measurement (this one for body fat or his BMI) he quietly dropped,

“We’re down to you and one other candidate now.” Stepping out of his shoes, Byron was withdrawn as he unbuckled his pants. At the news he lit up, his eyes brightening. “Yes, you’ve survived the eliminations down to the final two,” Travis said. Waiting until he was down to his boxer briefs, he continued,

“Remember I told you there was much more to do?” His expression dropping, Byron slowly nodded. 

“Well, there are several things the other candidates did and didn’t do which decided their continuation or elimination. Let me just say, I’ve been very lenient with you as it concerns several steps, mainly because you’re so resistant but also because of your age. You’re the youngest candidate we’ve ever allowed to apply and I try taking that into consideration. In fact, the committee didn’t want to consider someone so young at first but I talked them into it.”

“To be honest, I’m breaking a lot of rules for you, Bryon,” he continued. Nervously looking into the distance, Byron licked his sensuous full lips. Moving closer, Travis went on. “Most of the candidates I’ve worked with, both for this trial and several ones before, aren’t half as nervous as you.” Placing his hand on the boy’s shoulder, he found his eyes and informed, 

 “Ok, as promised, I’ve looked into gaining permanent residency for your parents. With my help your parents should have permanent residency within a month or two.” Grateful, Byron muttered his thanks. “It was my pleasure,” Travis returned. “You know, not many athletes as young as you, and still in need of improvement,” He pressed, alluding to Byron’s less than par performance, “are as fortunate as you.”

Running his hand up and down Byron’s back, he let it travel near his upturned bottom. “It would make me mighty grateful,” He stated, gazing at the boy as he palmed his sweet ass. His body tensing, Byron studied the far wall. “I’d think you’d want to do something in return… for me,” He quietly asserted, his fingers traveling down his warm cleft.

Catching the subtle meaning of his words Byron croaked, “Like… like what?” The words just what he wanted to hear, Travis held back a smirk.

“We’ll have to see.” Delving a finger between his warm cheeks, he pointedly inquired, “How much do you think you’re ready to do?” As he slid his finger back and forth, between his clothed ass cheeks, Byron nervously retorted,

“Mr.... Mr. Scott, you’ve been real good to me…” Flinching as Travis reached between his legs. “And… and…” Glancing at him, he nervously licked his full lips, “I want to do better but…”

Travis’ finger gently diddling his concealed rose bud, Byron was alarmed. “But… like what I gotta do?” A panged look on his face, he shivered as Travis played between his ass cheeks.

“Like I told you before, we can help each other,” Travis stated. His words loaded, Byron had an idea what he was alluding to. For the sake of his parents and a possible scholarship, he timidly allowed,

“Ok, I’ll try to do better.”

“That’s good, Byron,” Travis smiled, moving towards the boy. His beautiful, rosy lips irresistible, he moved closer and closer, finally kissing them. Freezing, Byron was like a mannequin, his eyes looking anywhere but at Travis as he kissed him. Licking his tongue about his sensuous (but closed) lips, Travis broke the awkward kiss, repeating, “real good Byron.” Smiling again, he cooed, “I think you’re ready to go to my room now.” 





The sensation of his tongue raking across his sensitive nipple strange, it sent shivers up his spine and out his dick, making it throb and leak. Smothering gasps and whimpers, he couldn’t believe his nipples could make him feel this good. Then Travis swooped lower, across his taut tummy muscles and over his upright post. Letting out a surprised squeal, his dick lunged harder in the man’s mouth. Head raised, he watched in awe, Travis’ mouth like nothing he’d ever felt. His lips and tongue finding every sensitive surface on his pleading post, he wiggled and gasped, swiftly rounding the bases.

Beatified, Travis held his throbbing stick, his mouth slurping up and down as he stared at his contorted face. Nothing was more exciting than watching an innocent boy sense, no doubt, his first blow job. His hips writhing, his face was a series of expressions from awe to gratification. Watching him react a guilty pleasure, Travis’ dick swelled, the head dripping.

Keenly aware that the boy could blow any second, he didn’t linger long. Still watching him he slurped down, over his taut, boy balls, the wide-eyed reaction on Byron’s face making his dick throb. Gasping and grunting, the boy struggled to keep up. He was barely processing the crazy notion Mr. Scott was licking and sucking his balls when he flipped him over, onto his stomach. Craning to look over his shoulder, he yelped when he felt Mr. Scott’s TONGUE on his ASSHOLE!

Scared shitless, he writhed and wiggled, attempting to move away while shivering to the new sensation. Certain Mr. Scott was gay now, he knew of only ONE thing gay guys did with each other’s ass! Wiggling and anxiously gasping, his fears were confirmed when he felt something slipping up his ass!

“Mr. Scott!” He cried out, scooting away.  Pain radiating from his violated hole, Byron couldn’t believe Mr. Scott had tried to fuck him! Rolling onto his side, he gaped at him.

The spell broken, Travis gazed at the boy as they both panted. He’d barely gotten the tip of his finger inside the boy’s ass when he’d wiggled away. The weight of his actions suddenly upon him, he was speechless as they stared at each other. Coming so close to what he’d lusted after for so long, he couldn’t think straight.

“Is this doing better Byron?” He assailed.

“But… but… you…”

“You know, I’m not sure I’m doing the right thing for you and your parents!” His words harrowing, Byron’s heart leapt into his throat.

“What… whadaya mean?” He sputtered. Glaring at him, Travis simmered,

“Without my help, your parents could very well be deported.” More frightened than when he thought Travis might fuck him, Byron couldn’t speak. The intent of his words starting to come through, Byron felt a moment of panic. What had he gotten himself into? As if answering him, Travis said,

“So what’s it gonna be?” Trapped, Byron was at a loss for words. Was Mr. Scott saying he had to give up his virginity or his parents would be deported? Aware he was waiting for an answer, he yammered,

“I… I don’t know!” Wanting something, Travis decided to give the panic-stricken boy a break.

“Well, I need something,” He insisted. Then, rolling his eyes again, he pulled the boy across the bed, facing him towards his bounding hardness. His precious mouth right at his upright root, he gave Byron a knowing look. This or your parents, it said.

Eyes filling with tears, Byron didn’t jerk away when he pushed his dick at his sweet lips. Uncertain what to do, he didn’t open his mouth as Travis bumped his hardness against his sealed lips. Finally, Travis clarified,

“You’ll have to open your mouth,” and his panic shot higher. His eyes brimming, Byron cracked his lips a fraction. To his horror Travis pushed forward, opening his mouth wider until his dick was inside. Not even allowing him time to adjust, Travis started thrusting, his hips trembling as he worked upon a ball bursting release. 

His ready-to-pop dick scraping across the encumbered youth’s throat, Travis gasped and grunted...





Distressed and distracted his game really suffered following his last session. Absently throwing gutter balls everywhere, he barely paid attention to what he was doing. His parents confused, they got few answers when they asked what was wrong. Distraught, Byron was short-tempered, at times snapping at them, which confused them more.

When Mr. Scott showed up at one of his games, they were happy to see him as always. The kind man not only a big help for their son, he’d extended himself to help them with their citizenship. All smiles when he greeted them after Byron’s game, no one noticed the way Byron withdrew. Placing an arm about the youth’s shoulder, Travis spoke in glowing terms about him, eliciting more smiles from his parents. No sooner he’d asked and they willingly turned Byron over into his charge.

As he walked away, a moping Byron in tow, he glanced over his shoulder to see a younger version of the youth suddenly join his parents. Talking rapidly, the boy was even cuter than Byron. Curious, Travis inquired about the gorgeous youth once they were in his car.

“He's... he's my..."



This is just Part I of a two part story! Who's the cute boy and what is he to Travis?





Read it all with your Studies In Brown membership today!


Click Here
To Join