Date: Sat, 26 Dec 2015 21:05:45 +0000 (UTC) From: Julian Otero <ba9ba9goodman@yahoo.com> Subject: A Half Dozen A Half Dozen Please remember to make a contribution to nifty so we all can continue to enjoy this great archive. These are beginnings of stories I started inspired by actual encounters, fragments that I might or might not develop into full stories depending on which one or ones you like best. Please tell me. Julian. ba9ba9goodman@yahoo.com 1. My Lucky Day My lucky day today: At the gym a very cute boy. Rarely do boys appear there in the 11 to 13 year old range when I'm there, and even more rare, do cute ones. A good thing too because I'd get very little serious work done. This one today was very cute, the type look that makes little girls squirm and their tender pussies damp. It was Sunday and he was with his father, a nice father and son bonding activity on a off-school day. I used to know some fathers who took their sons to steam baths. I never asked if they got fully naked there. Anyway, this little morsel today sat himself near me on a stationary bike while I worked on strengthening my lower back. His Dad left him to go to another machine. As the scene progressed I occasionally glanced his way, each time trying not to be obvious. He seemed oblivious of me and I felt a small stirring between his legs. The boy had adjusted the height of the saddle so that his feet barely reached the peddles, requiring his pelvis to slide forward. This had the interesting effect of gathering his shorts into his crotch tightly. I tried hard not to notice, but how could I not look? Quick glances, not more than half second apiece. There, between those smooth and beautiful legs was a very obvious boy-bulge. Oh dear, dear me. Let's say an 11 year old cock under two layers of fabric, but unmistakable. Not only that, but my searchlight eyes could see the three essential boy parts faintly but definitely outlined. Two tender balls and the head of the dick. A few times our eyes met. After a few minutes passed I see him put his hand down inside his shorts and rearrange things—not to my advantage. I didn't dare try to hold his gaze in that place, with his father close by. And I don't think the hand down the shorts was meant for me. But when I left he did look at me. 2.Daniel Z: I had occasion today to spend some time with an 11 year old boy. Well, not just one boy, several. And some girls. But the boy! Daniel was his name, and you know why I'm writing to you. I really couldn't fantasize fucking him because he was so skinny: I'd have black-and-blue marks from his bony ass. Really, he had no ass at all. Yes, he was cute. Truly, "cute" is over used but here it's the right descriptor. Hair. A lush head of chestnut brown hair. A mass that invites fingers and face in foreplay. Big brown eyes. Sharp and intelligent, they dart left and right and all over, keen to miss nothing. Small straight nose. Fine smooth skin, neither light nor dark, the color in perfect pitch. Hands. Hands of a future concert pianist, busy and fluttering all the time. The mouth! Oh, that other orifice! His mouth makes up for any lack of usable boypussy. The mouth is wide and the lips large and sensual and the teeth are white and even and straight. But the boy is anything but straight. He has all the moves and markings of a boy who loves other boys. That's why he stays mainly with the girls—or is it they who stay with him? He won't try to touch them. His body self-image is secure. He uses his body so well. He walks and sways and turns and swings his loose joints more like a girl than boy. A football player he will never be. But I could see him as a bottom for one of those brutes."Fuck me harder! Harder!" 3. Warm and Sticky Paul: Speaking of rimming, I once had a boyfriend who loved to lick my asshole. He could spend a long time at it and it gave me so much pleasure. Micky especially liked to do me after I'd taken a long bike ride. I always kept myself very clean and wore a thong—best undergarment ever made especially good for bike riding. Anyway, after a long ride my ass would be sweaty and sticky, especially in the summer. Boy did he gobble me up! The taste was not shitty, just funky, with a real strong smell of vinegar. I know because I often sampled it with my finger after a ride. I grew to love the taste, and so did the boy. 4. Its So Big I first had sex with my son when he was six. That night his mother was working late and it fell to me to get him in the bath before bed. We were both in a playful mood and I decided to get in the warm water with him. Of course his eyes went right to my cock and stayed there even as we talked of games and school and t.v. I glanced down and through the cloudy water saw his little hard cock up at attention like a soldier. I was twenty eight and he was my first child. I loved him completely and was proud of his joy at life and his skills and sunny personality, and now as I looked between his legs, proud of his body too. He was beautifully proportioned and had a cute and impish face. He saw where my eyes had rested and said of his dick "it gets hard sometimes." My cock had started to grow and I spread my legs wider, I guess because I wanted him to see what I had and what he could look forward to. He had seen me naked just about everyday but not erect like this. My seven inches rose up above the water about a third of its length. "Wow, Dad!" exclaimed Luc, not hiding his surprise and big smile,"its so big!!" 5. A Bath Yesterday I took one of my hot soaking baths that leave my muscles and bones so relaxed and every pore clean and tingly. How pleasurable it was to lay back in the warm water on a winter's day with a little boy's dick up my ass. Of course, it wasn't the dick of real boy, but its 3.5 inches felt sooooo fuckin good as I daydreamed my dreams. That nice piece of flesh colored rubber goes in so easily when its slicked up with personal gel and my manpussy is relaxed and receptive. Lately I've been thinking maybe I need a larger one, perhaps 5 inches and wider to enhance my revelries. Then, the "boys" would have to be a bit older. Is it my imagination or what: At this time of year the nine to eleven or twelve year old little dudes have brighter eyes and redder lips and tongues? 6. Spidey Boy "Trick or treat!!?" the spidey boy at my door yells. He certainly has a nice package. "I don't have any treats," I tell him sadly, "you'll have to give me a trick." "That's alright" he says enthusiastically. He turns, slips down the skin hugging tight undies, and shows me his ass. Two nice round melon-like globes, probably 11 years old, five and a half travel on each. With a lot of appreciation in my voice I say, softly, "What a lovely trick!" Then, "Want to come in for some warm apple juice?" He does, and when he lifts his red mask I see a huge smile on the dimpled face of the cute boy from across the street, 11 years old indeed! The other thing that's huge is the lump in his red spandex briefs. Please remember to make a contribution to nifty so we all can continue to enjoy this great archive. These are beginnings of stories I started inspired by actual encounters, fragments that I might or might not develop into full stories depending on which one or ones you like best. Please tell me. Julian. ba9ba9goodman@yahoo.com Regards, Julian