The Routine (Mb, extreme-ped, inc, oral)
By Silent Steps

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Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to
actual persons living or deceased is entirely coincidental. If
you are under eighteen years old, or if it is illegal in your
community to read explicit stories depicting sex between adults
and minors, or if you are offended by such material, close this
and go do something else. Do not contact me attempting to arrange
illegal activities or the trading of illegal material. In short,
let's keep this legal - that way, we can keep it fun. Thank you.

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	Waking up a child for school can be very challenging for a
parent. The best solution is usually the smell of something nice
cooking like, say, bacon. Well, that's not the case for little
seven year old Cody. That sleeping beauty only needed one thing
to get him going - the smell of a hard cock.
	
	Every morning, Roger would would go his son's perpetually messy
room, tugging his own pajama pants down. His hard, thick-veined
adult cock would bounce upright quickly at the sight of such an
angelic, sleeping face and a tiny, preteen body. Those soft,
pillowy little lips, that curly dark mop of hair. How could any
man not desire his own little boy?

	Cody's small nostrils would twitch as the hardon nudged up
beside him. Roger would gently guide it directly under the
child's nose, pulling back his foreskin and letting the nook
beneath the head release its musk in the air. Cody would sniff a
few times, blinking his eyes open slowly, and then his little
hand would come up. Five tiny fingers would wrap as far as they
could go around the base.
	
	There were never words. The little boy would simply take the
cock into his mouth, the soft spongey head nuzzling against his
tongue. He would slowly pull his face back and forth on it,
massaging the fleshy object as best he could. Like all children,
Cody loved his father's cock, most especially how it was uncut.
He liked to roll back the skin further and lick where it had been
trapping flavor and scents that he found so appetizing.
	
	Soon, half of the adult cock would disappear into the child's
mouth, poking at his small throat. He always sucked slowly, his
tiny wet tongue pushing at the fattest veins. Roger would just
lean a knee up on the pillow beside his precious child and cup
his tiny head in a hand, lovingly stroking his boy throughout
their morning suck. Sometimes, he would reach under the blanket
and gently stroke Cody's erect boy cock. But it was DADDY'S
orgasm which mostly concerned the child, not his own.
	
	Indeed, the best part was daddy squirting his special milk. Cody
was voracious when it came to sperm. Roger had noticed the quirk
when the boy was just an infant - he would suck so hard when he
was being nursed that Roger wouldn't be able to pull out until
his prostate was practically inside out. Cody always swallowed
every drop of sperm given to him. He could drain a poker table
full of daddy and his buddies in one go.
	
	When the time came, Roger would grunt to warn his son. Little
Cody could pull back and just grip the head with his mouth. He
didn't want it to shoot straight down his throat. It had to hit
every tastebud on the way. He could easily deep throat if he
wanted to, but in the mornings, he wanted to taste and breath
cum, and his father was there to feed him breakfast.
	
	Then it would come, that big, creamy load, some squirting across
Cody's tonsils, some draping his tongue, and some still pooling
in his downturned cheek. None would escape his sealed lips. First
Cody would make sure there was not a drop left, sucking, tonguing
the urethra, guaranteeing that daddy was all empty of that
sticky, tasty juice. Then he would sit up, stretching his arms as
he swished the load around in his mouth like a wash, and with a
sweet, noisy -gulp-, his little adams apple would bob as he drank
it right down.
	
	Such was Roger's routine with his child. After that, he and Cody
would go together to the kitchen for some more traditional
breakfast while his wife got dressed for work. "Did daddy give
you a big load today?" She'd often ask him, and he'd always nod
enthusiastically as he ate his cereal.
	
	Mommy would drive him to the school, while Roger would dress for
his own job. And every day, as if part of this wonderful routine,
he would smile into the mirror at himself and think, 'I sure am a
lucky dad.'