Date: Tue, 21 Oct 2003 12:16:57 +0000
From: guess who? <spunkmachine@hotmail.com>
Subject: Ricky's Babysitter (Chapter 5: "Horny Little Ricky")

RICKY'S BABYSITTER

by Bambino

Author's disclaimer: The following a work of
fiction.  All characters are fictitious; any resemblance to real persons is
purely coincidental.  Any descriptions of minors engaged in sexual
activities are imaginary and bear no relation to real events. The subject
matter of this story is pure fantasy and is not intended as a representation
of the author's lifestyle or ideology.  As a work of literature this story
is protected under the First Amendment to the Constitution of the United
States of America.

The author retains the copyright on this work.
Distribution or posting of this work without the author's permission is a
violation of that copyright.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


Chapter
V: "Horny Little Ricky"



Though it was far past his bedtime, Ricky
Rodriguez was wide awake.  From the next room came the soft sounds of
regular breathing, to signal that his mother had finally fallen asleep.  For
the last hour he had been quietly fondling his stiff little penis through
his pajamas, boyish lust gnawing away at him, waiting for the moment when he
could finally bring it out in the open, wrap his fist around it and jack it
off to another brain-warping dry orgasm.  Now that the moment had arrived,
Ricky's whole body tingled in anticipation of that delicious explosion of
pleasure that awaited him.

Slowly, holding his breath, he pushed his
pajamas and underpants down to his ankles and exposed his three taut inches
of lusty boy-meat.  He closed his fist around the shaft and began pumping;
the snug foreskin shuttled rapidly up and down over the sensitive head.  He
closed his eyes and lost himself in the sweetness and warmth that quickly
spread through his little body.  He wondered why he hadn't discovered
jacking off on his own, and gave silent thanks to his babysitter Jennifer
for teaching him this simple trick that gave him more joy than he had ever
known before.

With his left hand Ricky teased his plump young balls with
light, delicate strokes, tickling and grazing, sending chills of delicious
pleasure through his body that made him wriggle and gasp softly.  For a
couple minutes he went on like this, tickling his smooth scrotum while
energetically pumping his penis, roaming new worlds of sensation that most
eight-year-old boys never even dream about.

For five minutes he beat his
cock with vigorous abandon, becoming more and more excited.  He kicked off
his pajamas and briefs, spread his legs, and tried to imagine Jennifer there
with him again.  He conjured her warm presence to his mind, and replayed all
the things they had done together.  He felt himself lying in the bathtub
against her soft cushiony tits while she reached around and ran her soapy,
magical hands all over his body...  Bracing himself against the V of her
upraised legs as he leaned forward and slipped his penis into her glazed,
welcoming vagina, feeling the slick, churning tunnel of flesh swallow him to
the hilt...  The way she tilted her head to the side and looked up at him as
she closed her mouth around his boner and watched him melt in
ecstasy...

His arm was so tired it ached, but he would sooner let it fall
off than interrupt the current of pleasure coursing wildly through his
penis.  He tried to control his breathing, to keep quiet, but it was hard,
and occasionally a puff or a soft grunt escaped him.  He squeezed his eyes
shut and imagined that it was Jennifer's mouth or pussy, and not his own
hand, that was making him feel so good.

Soon he felt it starting again: the
tingling warmth stirring in the pit of his stomach, expanding out into his
pelvis.  Then all at once the feelings intensified to a rush and he jerked
up quickly, to twitch and shiver with his face scrunched and toes curled,
biting down on his lips to keep from moaning out loud.  ("I'm cumming,
Jennifer, I'm cumming!")  He could feel his scrotum tightening, drawing in
the immature testicles in their valiant but futile effort to manufacture
sperm (he surrendered against her breasts while she held his ass, pulling
him in).  The root of his penis began to pulsate spasmodically, sending
forceful ripples up through the shaft ("Do it, Ricky, bang me hard! Cum
inside Jennifer, baby!").

The experience of the young boy's orgasm was
complex and profound, an uncontrollable melt-down.  For ten seconds the
universe consisted only of incomprehensible pleasure, an ecstasy almost too
intense for his little body to withstand, turning his brain to mush.  ("Does
that feel good, baby?" Jennifer purred in his ear.)  It was still a new
feeling to him, but he was rapidly becoming familiar with it, as all boys
eventually do.  ("Oh fuck yeah, Ricky, grind me! Show me how you orgasm,
baby -- orgasm for Jennifer.") It was the most wonderful feeling he had ever
known or imagined and he wished it could go on forever.

Slowly the tingles
died away, Jennifer vanished and Ricky returned to the ordinary world.  He
lay perfectly still and listened to make sure he hadn't woken up his mother.
  But the sound of her breathing kept the same steady rhythm as before, and
he slowly relaxed out his own pent lungs.

Exhausted, he rolled over without
bothering to pull up his undies, and hugged his pillow.  Soon his breathing
slowed and before long the satisfied little boy was fast asleep.


*       *
       *       *


While Ricky lay dry-cumming, Mike Baranello sprawled in
his own bed far across town, sleepless and masturbating his own thick
teenage cock.  Two nights had passed since he had peeped through a window to
see his girlfriend Jennifer molesting the little Rodriguez boy.  Two long
and sleepless nights.  He wasn't sure if "molesting" was the right word to
use in this case.  A priest sodomizing a timid altar boy -- now that he
would call molesting.  But a sixteen-year-old girl putting out for a kid
half her age still three grades away from puberty -- that may not have been
molesting but it was still fucked up, twisted, weird and sick...

Though he
wouldn't have articulated it in such terms, Mike's real beef was with the
affront to his own virility.  He was a stud, a player, a pimp.  He knew
girls whispered about him, wet their panties wondering if his dick was as
big as the rumors alleged...  He could have any piece of ass in school but
he had been faithful to Jennifer.  No bitch was going to make a fool out of
him with a third-grader.

So why are you jacking off, he asked himself.  To
relieve his balls, that was why.  It wasn't as if he could have been turned
on by what he had witnessed.  It was just so wrong.  What could little Ricky
Rodriguez give Jennifer that he couldn't? Mike's dick was the size of the
kid's forearm.  The kid's dick was the size of Mike's thumb.  He tried to
picture it poking in and out of Jennifer's cunt.  Would she have even felt
it?

Mike kicked off the covers and sat up against the pillows.  He could
see himself in the full-length mirror on his closet door: his beefy
wrestler's body, brooding face and wrist-thick Italian teencock sliding in
and out of his lubed fist.  He liked to grease up his fat meat with lotion
when he jacked off, for that slick warm feel that wasn't quite as good as
Jennifer's snatch but a close approximation of its charms.

Fuck, he
thought, the kid was so damn young.  But he could have orgasms and
everything! Mike had seen the boy practically doing flip-flops on the bed,
his eyes rolling back as Jennifer sucked his little joke of a dick.  If that
hadn't been an orgasm then it must have been epilepsy.  Mike didn't even
know you could have orgasms that young.  He hadn't discovered them until he
was twelve.

That had been the same year that he'd lost his virginity to a
girl two grades ahead of him.  He supposed he had to admit that the
situation was comparable, that he had been too young to know what he was
doing... but no way, that didn't excuse what Jennifer had done.  At twelve
Mike had been markedly pubescent and had worn a condom on his already
fertile dong.  There was quite a difference between his sperm-spraying
twelve-year-old self and an eight-year-old boy who didn't even have pubic
hair yet.  There was no kidding himself about what Jennifer had done.  His
own girlfriend was a cradle-robber, a degenerate... yes, a child
molester!

Mike imagined what he might have done if he'd been in the room
with the two of them.  What if he had made Ricky suck his big dick and
creamed all over his angelic little face? Show the little brat what a real
cock was and make him choke on it so he'd remember.  While Jennifer watched.
  Not because it turned Mike on or anything to fantasize this scenario, but
for revenge.  It would teach them both a lesson.

Mike's bed gave a lurch as
he bucked out his wad, pumping his hips and propelling arcs of semen all
over the headboard, his face, neck and chest.  A low animal groan ground out
of his throat and his powerful legs frog-swam the bedsheets, bending and
sliding in and out.  His ass was moving in the circular pumping motion that
he used to massage Jennifer's G-spot with the head of his
dick.

"Fffuuuucccckkkkkhhhhhhhhh," rasped Mike as he milked out the last
beads of spunk that welled out over the crook of his thumb and down his
wrist.  Almost before his orgasm was over he felt slightly nauseated by his
own fantasy.

"Fuck that," he thought as he reached under the bed for his
cum-rag.  "Jennifer's the perv, not me."

With a somewhat relieved
conscience he turned over and went to sleep.