Seduction of Cody Barnes

By Rob Hoek (Bob Hook, Storyguy22)

Published on Sep 2, 2005

Gay

Another trip down fantasy lane, conjured wholly in the questionable mind of storyguy22. To my personal knowledge, none of the events actually occurred, nor do any of the characters actually exist, but damn, it sure sounds like fun, to me! Enjoy, and all comments are welcome. Yea, ALL comments, I can take it!

Storyguy22@yahoo.com

Seduction of Cody Barnes

The summer had gone quickly, and here I was again, arriving at school early on the first day of my senior year of high school. I had gotten into the habit of arriving early in order to score a spot in the always overloaded student parking lot. The once small town I lived in had experienced a ton of growth over the last few years, and the only high school was seriously overcrowded with all of the new students. Parking spots, and lockers, were always at a premium, and I had learned the value of arriving early last year, which was the first year I had been licensed to drive. I had recently turned seventeen, stood just short of six feet tall, and weighed in around 170. My hair is a light brown shade, and just long enough to motivate my super-straight Dad to tell me to get it cut, almost daily. I'm lean of build, slim and fit, though not especially buff. Baseball is my sport interest, since I started Little League play at age eight. The game keeps me fit, but doesn't require the strength, or stamina, of a lot of other sports.

I had been slow to transition through puberty, and had actually just recently completed the cycle, resulting in my now deeper voice, and a much improved patch of pubic hair. It still wasn't a lot, but better than the near non-existent growth I had suffered with through my freshman through junior years. Males in my family just are not overly endowed with body hair, and it seemed that my particular apple had not fallen far from the tree. Other than the recently sprouted pubes, my body was smooth, save for some light growth under my arms, and the almost invisible peach fuzz on my legs below the knee.

If my hair-producing hormones had been slightly behind the curve, it was more than compensated for by the apparent over development of whatever hormone it is that renders teen boys that perpetually horny condition. That one, I had in spades. My little dick had learned the art of erection at about age 10, and had rapidly developed a mind of it's own in that regard. I could have my entire mental focus locked onto reading War and Peace, in French, and spring a boner at almost any time. I had lost track of the number of times the damn thing had pulled its little act at the worst possible place, or time, leaving me embarrassed to the max, as I endured the giggles, and finger pointing of people around me when Mr. Happy decided to tent the hell out of whatever garment it found itself covered with. By the way, that seems to be yet another male family trait that I had been blessed with, that of an above average dick size. Growing up, I had, at times, viewed my father, and various uncles, and cousins, in the nude, and realized that all of us were similarly endowed. It was not until eighth grade, and beyond, where school showers came into play, that I became aware that most of the other boys fell a bit short of the family average in the meat department. I don't mean to imply that mine is huge, or anything porno-flick special, just above what appears to be the average. In repose, I go just short of six inches, and at full mast, it extends to almost eight. I know, because I was there, when I measured it. Several times, in fact.

So, enough about me. The secondary motivation for my habit of arriving early at school, particularly on the first day of a new term, was to avail myself of the opportunity to check out the new crop of freshmen; more to the point, the new crop of freshman boys. Yup, you guessed it, I'm decidedly gay, and, find myself particularly attracted to that age group, the thirteen to fifteen year olds. It's a kind of hold over, I guess, from when I first started feeling sexual attraction to other boys at about age twelve, and thirteen. I continued to grow, and age, beyond that time, but my desires kind of stayed put, and continue to be most intense when aimed at boys of that grouping. There is just something that really pushes my buttons, sexually speaking, about a budding fourteen year old, with his rapidly developing body, and hormones raging 24/7. Actually indulging in sex with a boy of fourteen or fifteen is a truly incredible experience, and I loved the challenge of identifying, and cutting from the herd, the willing ones. More of them than you might expect were in that category, horny as hell, and hungry to experience all of the feelings that they had heard, and read, about. The internet had done wonders in educating these young lads to the possibilities that existed to get their rocks off, and many of them were astute enough to reach the correct conclusion that it was far easier to entice someone like me to suck their rampant little hard-on, than it was to convince some sweet young thing of the female variety. In the post Clinton/Monica era, many seventh, and eight grade girls had been convinced that a bit of friendly cock sucking was not actual sex, but by high school, many had figured out that they had been duped into blowing their male classmates, and refused further exploitation. Girls, go figure.

High on my list of personal favorites among the many school rules, and procedures, was the requirement that all incoming freshman students undergo first-day orientation, segregated by sex. This ritual for boy students took place on the campus quad, a large, patio type area at the center of the campus. The girls were relegated to the main gym, indoors, so as to minimize distractions that might otherwise occur, and fragment the student's attention to the orientation material being covered. This arrangement, of course, provided the perfect forum for my early scouting of likely prospects, so, after claiming my parking spot, I hustled on over to the quad.

At the back end of the quad, there is an arch bridge that allows pedestrian crossing over the bus driveway. It is elevated some twelve feet, or so, and allows a perfect 360' view of the quad area. I walked to the center point of the bridge, and began my visual evaluation of the fresh faced graduating class of four years hence. My first blush pass provided five, or six, likely targets, all of them, on the surface, meeting my initial criteria. My preferences included a youthful look, perhaps even a touch on the feminine side, though not overtly, that look that conveyed a lingering boyishness, mixed with the signs of development. I like boys that are slim of build, and somewhat small of stature, ones that exhibit some of the deer-in-the-headlight look, as they survey their new surroundings. In short, I look for some cute little thing that likely would relish the assistance, and guidance, of a kind and considerate upper classman as he navigates the minefield that is your typical freshman year of high school.

I made my second recon of the assembled boys, and mentally whittled the field to two. My first choice appeared to possess virtually all of the aforementioned attributes, with the added bonus that he was well above my minimum standard in terms of plain old fashioned cuteness. He was adorable, actually, sandy haired, and slim, with a peaches and cream complexion. He smiled a lot, and I especially liked the cute little dimples that creased his cheeks when he flashed the ready smile. He appeared nervous, which might explain the frequent smiles, and that added to his point total, since it had been my experience that slightly nervous boys usually were very receptive to more experienced guidance. He was dressed in shorts, the shiny, satin types worn by basketball players, long to the knee, and the material outlined what appeared to be a very cute little butt. The bagginess of the shorts precluded any hint of his package, but whatever the dimension turned out to be would meet my criteria for that particular aspect, since I actually had no minimum in that area. A long as he possessed the basic, external plumbing, it really didn't matter to me, small, or large. See how easy I can be? His shirt was one of those Polo, pull over types, and the soft yellow color complimented his creamy complexion, and golden summer tan. I'd say he was 5' 3", or 5' 4" tall, and maybe 110, on a good day. Had he been in a different surrounding, and alone, he could have been taken for twelve, or thirteen, so babyish cute was his overall look, and demeanor. Yup, let's list this one as candidate number one on Jason's list. Definitely.

My selection for first runner up to candidate one was also a drop-dead cutie of the wholesome type. A tad taller, maybe 5'5, or 5' 6" and I'd say 120, or so. Stockier built, but still slight, his hair was a golden blonde, bleached even lighter by a long summer of sun, and fun, evidenced further by a tan equally as golden as number one. His lithe body was also clad in shorts, the cargo variety, and they rode low on his slim hips, proudly displaying about three inches of brightly colored boxers above the shorts waist band. His shirt was a typical tee type, emblazoned with the logo of some boy-band, which I took as a sign of encouragement. He appeared a bit more comfortable with his situation than number one, and I idly wondered if maybe I was seeing just a touch of attitude in his slightly bored look. Not a problem, I decided, attitude can be fun, at times.

The dean of boys finally concluded his spiel, and directed the boys to form single lines in front of a row of tables behind him, based on the first letter of their last names. When reaching the front of the queue, each boy would be given his school orientation package, his class schedule, and the opportunity of access to a volunteer upper classman as a guidance councilor, should he so desire. Most boys declined this opportunity in the effort to appear macho, and mature enough to endure the high school transition alone. Pity, that, as it would have saved me a lot of time, if more of the little buggers would accept assistance. All I would need to do then is volunteer, and await the arrival of the lambs. Oh well, I suppose whoever said "the greater the challenge, the greater the glory," had a point.

I stayed on the elevated bridge long enough to spot my boys in their respective lines, then headed down to the quad to execute step two in Jason's grand plan of boy-seduction. I went most of the way to the head of the line that my boy number one stood in, then, worked my way toward him, moving slowly, so that I would have the opportunity to read the goofy stick-on name tag that the dean made all of the boys mark-up, and wear, to orientation. It was totally dorky, and the boys felt dorky wearing them but the dean got his rocks off exuding his authority that way. Whatever, it played to my scheme, so I silently thanked him for his moronic insistence of the ritual. As I approached my little charmer, I noted two significant things, at once. First, he was even cuter close up, and second, his dorky nametag read "Cody Barnes." How fucking cute is that, I thought, he actually looks like a Cody! I put on my best good-guy smile, and walked right up to him, extending my closed fist in the currently accepted greeting fashion of today's youth. It's only a slightly less lame gesture than the now passé hi-five, but is equally as lifted from major league sports as was the hi-five. "Hey, Cody Barnes," I chirped brightly, "Jason Saunders, welcome to fast times at Benson High!" He looked slightly confused, and stared at my closed fist a moment, before lifting his own small fist to bump mine. "Uh, hi." He squeaked. He lifted his eyes to meet mine, and my heart tugged slightly, as I drank in the incredible blue shade of his eyes. Better and better, I thought, he's fucking beautiful!

I gave him a short wink, and launched my spiel, saying, "Your mission, Cody Barnes, should you decide to accept it, is to gratefully accept my reckless volunteering to serve as your freshman guidance councilor." He painted a small smile on his pretty face, apparently somewhat amused at my opening gambit, and squeaked, "Really!" I nodded, filled with serious expression, and went on, "Really, yup, totally, in some highly uncharacteristic moment of the recent past, I, of all people, actually volunteered to sacrifice precious moments of my life to assist a member of the current flock of young scholars sort through the many mysteries associated with these hallowed halls of higher learning, to wit, you!" He giggled sweetly, a light shade of pink coloring his creamy cheeks, and squeaked, "You're funny!"

I put on a look of shocked distress, and replied, "This, young Cody, is no laughing matter!" He made an effort to get rid of the killer grin, but failed, pretty much. Undaunted, I resumed, " I, an esteemed member of the senior class, see it as my very personal responsibility to set Mr. Cody Barnes solidly onto the proper path for maximum success over the next four tumultuous years, as he attempts further education, and experience, in all aspects of his otherwise sorry life!" Cody giggled that sweet sound, again, and repeated, "You're funny!" Once again looking stricken, I looked squarely into those deep blue pools, and said, "Am I to understand, Cody Barnes, that my willingness to sacrifice greatly on behalf of your very future is being rejected out of hand, Sir?" He giggled again, and shook his head in the negative, saying, in a very sexy, not-quite-fully-changed voice, "No sir, uh, Jason, right, I'm not rejecting anything, I just really think you're funny, like, a good funny!"

I placed my palm flat on my heart, and rolled my eyes heavenward, saying, "Oh thank heavens, for a minute there, I was afraid my first ever effort at sharing my vast knowledge, and skills, relevant to the successful navigation of the Benson High minefields was not welcome by Mr. Cody Barnes, incoming freshman!" He giggled again, and said, "Actually, Jason, right this minute, after you got here, I mean, is like, the first time I have been able to breathe since I left home this morning, all of this has me all nervous, big time!" I hiked my frame to its full six feet, and asked, "Am I to understand then, Cody Barnes, that you accept my most gracious offer, and deep personal sacrifice, to serve as your personal mentor during these treacherous days?" He grinned widely, and nodded, squeaking, "Oh yea, for sure, I accept, totally, and, uh, thanks, OK?" I relaxed, and smiled, then reached out to ruffle his silky soft hair, and replied, "You are most welcome, young sir, and please be assured that I shall deliver my very best efforts on behalf of your personal pleasures, in every conceivable way!" That last part was totally the truth!

I stood on line with Cody as he made his way toward the table to receive his orientation materials. As we chatted, I learned that he had just moved to our fair town over the past summer, and had not yet made any real new friends. He was just three weeks past his fourteenth birthday, lived in a fairly new condo development with his Mom, and a nine year old sister. His parents had divorced, which precluded the move here. He was passionate about BMX bikes, and, fortunately, baseball. By the time we reached the head of the line, he was much more relaxed than when I had first approached him, and had actually become quite talkative. His point total had also risen, as I learned that in addition to being drop-dead cute, my Cody was also quick witted, and possessed a pleasing sense of humor. He actually laughed at all of my attempts to amuse him, thereby garnering max points on the Jason's Boys scale.

Reaching the table, he endured the gushy welcoming speech from a lady who actually was one of the school councilors, and hefted the three or four pounds of printed materials that she handed over. We walked to a nearby bench, and sat, while I took the stack of paper from him, and sorted through it, until I located his class schedule, a scaled down map of the campus, and a bus assignment sheet. Handing the remaining stack of stuff back to Cody, I said, "Just stow all that junk, and give it to your Mom after school, this is all you need for the day." He zipped open his cute backpack, a black number, with a silk screened image of a baseball, and the logo of Major League Baseball. He stuffed the materials into the backpack, then turned his attention to me, as I began going over the layout of the campus on the small map. I held it propped against my crossed leg, and Cody scooted in close beside me, peering intently at the document. His sweet scent wafted through my nostrils, and I inhaled the incredible scent of boy, which created a small, zinging reaction in my balls. This kid was a keeper, I decided, fully deserving of my A-game! We plotted his classes on the map, and I marked the location, number, and combination of my own locker for him to use, since the ratio of lockers vs students precluded freshmen being assigned a locker of their own. That gesture earned me another dazzling smile, as he gushed about how cool it was for a senior to share his personal locker with a lowly freshman. Cody had no clue as to the number of personal things this senior planned to share with him.

We stood then, and took the walking tour of the classrooms he was assigned, and my locker, then checked out the cafeteria, and dining patio. The first bell rang, then, signaling five minutes to class start, and I put my arm over Cody's slim shoulders, giving him a small hug. "Ok, Cody Barnes, showtime, Bud!" I said, and he did that cute giggle thing again, then said, "Uh, jeez, Jason, thanks, Dude, for everything." I smiled, and gave his slim body another little squeeze, and replied, "Not a problem, Cody Barnes, you are safely under the guidance of Jason Saunders, senior class, and all is right with the world." He giggled again, and responded to my squeeze by thrusting himself against my side. I pointed in the general direction of the student parking lot, and said, "Meet me over there after last class, and I shall deliver you safely home, look for the silver Mustang." He looked up at me, eyes going wide, and squeaked, "Really...?" I chuckled, and fluffed his soft hair, answering, "Yup, it really is...silver, I mean." He giggled, and said, "Your so funny, Jason...but...cool...and, thanks!" I nodded sagely, and extended my closed fist, seeking a goodbye greeting that duplicated the hello, and said, "Take no prisoners, Cody Barnes, and I will see you after the wars." He bumped his small fist against mine, smiled, and heaved his backpack onto his shoulder, then walked off in the direction of his first class. I stood there watching him depart, and decided that he surely did possess a very cute little butt, indeed.

The day droned on, as all first days back at school seem to do, but the welcome sound of the final bell eventually arrived. I swung by "our" locker, and dumped off the half ton of books I had been issued, then, headed for the parking lot. I had seen Cody only briefly at the lunch break, and nearly slimed my skiveys as I watched him eat a banana. Fresh in the hunt, like this, my imagination is capable of being immensely fertile, and the banana symbolism was just too much! He did, I noticed, ingest the fruit with great skill, and enthusiasm, which I hoped was representative of things to come.

A few short minutes following my arrival at my ride, the fair young Cody appeared on the horizon, trudging in my direction. He approached, the killer smile firmly in place, and raised a small hand in greeting. I poked at his delicate palm with my own, and said, "Well done, Cody Barnes, you have obviously survived the rigors of day one, and can now be officially declared a high school veteran!" He giggled his sweet music for me, and shook his pretty head, causing the soft locks of his hair to sway across his smooth forehead. "You crack me up, Jason, really!" he said, and I swung the passenger door of the `Stang open, bent at the waist, and swiped my arm in an ushering motion. "Your humble ride awaits, Mr. Freshman." He giggled again, and slid that too-cute bubble butt onto the seat, allowing the baggy legs of his shorts to ride up, and bare his creamy, hairless thighs. I felt Mr. Happy jerk slightly in my own shorts, and unconsciously licked my lips. Since I seem to be throwing all of the old clichés around today, I thought, how about," dinner, is served! "

I trotted around the car, and slipped under the wheel, cranked the engine, and pulled out. We exited the school grounds, and headed toward what serves as our downtown area. Cody preened all around, checking out the interior of the car, and proclaimed, "Sweet, Jason, this car rocks, big time!" Given that the Mustang is rated second only to my penis erectus on the list of items in which I take great personal pride, I humbly agreed with his assessment. "So, Cody Barnes, do you need to get straight home, or could your humble servant spring for a soda, and snack, first?" I asked him, and he nodded rapidly, saying, "That would be awesome, for sure, I can just call my Mom, and tell her what's up." With that, he lifted his cute butt off the seat, and began digging in his shorts pockets for his cell phone, which resulted in the satin material of his shorts being stretched over his crotch. I looked quickly, and my mouth flooded with saliva, as I focused briefly on the clearly defined outline of his boy nail pressed tightly against the thin cloth. Hmm, lovely, I decided, just lovely. He made the call, and met no resistance, so I tooled over to the local hangout, a drive-in called, dunno why, "John's."

The place was a definite throw-back to another era, and had been the local high school hang-out since at least my parent's tenure, if not longer. It was very fifties, complete with car-hop service, although the days of the wait person's roller skating to your car had given way to the wearing of tennis shoes. I rolled into a stall, and parked, Cody checking the place out as if his head was mounted on ball bearings. "Cool!" He chirped, "This place is, like, so Happy Days!" I chuckled, jabbed at his shoulder, and said, "Happy Days, jeez, Dude, where did you get that?" He giggled, blushing sweetly, and squeaked, "Re-runs, I actually like that show, it's pretty funny." I nodded, then, turned my attention to the sweet lass that had appeared at my window, inquiring sweetly as to our desires. I, of course, desired the pert little lad seated to my immediate right, but he, unfortunately, was not on the menu. Not quite yet, anyway!

We ate some wonderfully greasy French fries, liberally dipped in ketchup, and swilled it all down with icy cold soda's, chatting about the day, and school. I managed more subtle peeks into Cody's crotch, my nasty mind visualizing the sweet boy-treasures that nestled there, and even managed a few opportunities to gently pat his creamy smooth thigh as I gestured, making some lame point, or other. The texture of his satin smooth skin under my fingers brought life to Mr. Happy, and he began sending me urgent signals, indicating a strong desire to make the acquaintance of the Little Cody, that lingered so near. All in good time, I mentally informed him, all in good time!

I delivered young Cody safely, and on time, to his condo complex, and we parked near his building. He turned part way in his seat, bending one smooth leg under him, and flashed me that dick-wrenching smile. Mr. Happy, naturally, responded, signaling me, "See, I told you, I want that!" I mentally agreed, totally, but hushed him, anyway, for the time being. "Jeez, Jason!" He squeaked, "This has been, like, maybe my best day, ever...really Dude, thanks for everything!" I used that gushy pronouncement as an excuse to again affectionately grip a satin smooth thigh, perhaps just a tad higher than necessary, and replied, "Actually, Cody Barnes, this was my best ever first day of school, too, and that, is because you made it special, so I, thank you!" He giggled sweetly, nodding, so that the errant strands of silky soft hair brushed across his forehead, his cheeks going gently pink. "Uh, so, will I see you tomorrow, then, or..?" He squeaked, and again, I gave his thigh a gentle squeeze, saying, "Absolutely yes, my mentor duties do not terminate in a single day, Sir, in fact, I was of the hope that you would consent to my driving you both directions, tomorrow, and beyond." His alluring blue eyes went wide, and he squealed, "No way, Really..?" I grinned, chancing one more grip of the thigh, and replied, "Yes, way..really...I, and old paint here, will arrive at this very spot at 7:30 in the A.M. to retrieve my personal charge." He giggled sweetly, and squeaked, "Awesome!" On that rather profound declaration, our first day ended, as Cody exited the Mustang, and walked toward his condo. I, of course, lingered, again watching his cute little butt in action. I sighed, thinking, Mr. Happy is, definitely, going to like that! With a rather strong spasm, he quickly agreed.

(To Be Continued) Storyguy22@yahoo.com

Next: Chapter 2


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