Date: Wed, 28 Sep 2016 00:03:40 +0200 (CEST)
From: shorty999@tutanota.com
Subject: Before the Soccer Match (Revised)

Title: Before the Soccer Match

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. It is not true.

Characters: Man (in his 20s) and Boy (11yo)

Story codes: Mb cons anal

Author: Shorty <shorty999@tutanota.com>

I'm sitting on the edge of the hotel bed. The TV is a few feet in front of
my face, sports is on, and I'm trying to keep my vision focused on it. I'm
having more trouble than I should. It keeps going blurry. It's about nine
in the morning, I've been awake for maybe an hour. Probably less. Breakfast
was downstairs, complimentary, I didn't eat much, but I had a couple cups
of coffee and I'm feeling the caffeine. I'm getting a cold sweat on my bare
feet, so I toy with the surface of the carpet to dry them. One of the ESPN
anchors is talking to me, is looking me straight in the eye, he's right in
front of me, but the hiss and occasional slap of the shower water behind me
steals the majority of my attention. I look over at the door. The kid's in
there. He's in there right now, all naked, all wet, scrubbing
himself. Running his hands up and down that little boy body. Shit. I can't
sit still. I get to my feet, pace around the room a couple times. I peer
through the curtains. We're above the parking lot. Nothing to see. I close
the curtains and return to my seat.

The hiss stops. I can feel my heartbeat. My blood is moving. My dick is
fucking hard, it can't possibly get any harder. My shorts are too small for
this. I rub it through the fabric with my thumb a few times. It's going to
poke out of my waistband. I can hear activity back there, I think he's
moving the shower curtain. My focus briefly returns to the screen in front
of me. Soccer highlights. Ha, that's fitting. I extend my leg and kick the
little soccer cleat that's lying next to my feet. It rolls under a chair.

A sound from behind me. It's the doorknob. I whip around. The door opens
and he steps out halfway. He's wearing nothing except for the white hotel
towel he's wrapped around his waist.

"Hey."

"All clean?" I ask.

"All clean!" He raises the pitch of his voice and draws out the words, it's
toddlerish. He's being cute.

He shakes his head so his still-damp hair flops around. Like a wet dog
would. His hair settles messily on top of his head and along his forehead,
not quite down to his eyes. It's a darker shade of brown when it's wet.

"Suit up, get your uniform on, little dude," I tell him.

"I'm not little!" Standard response.

"Your little baby uniform." I love this game. I can't not smile dumbly as I
tease him.

"Hey!" He frowns at me. I can make out the light freckles on the upper half
of his cheeks as they move and stretch with his facial expressions.

As he stands just in front of the open bathroom door the last of the steam
rolls out and up toward the ceiling. His arms are down and one of them is
clutching the front of his towel-skirt at the waist. I'm mostly looking
there, at his waistline, at that space between his belly button and the
white fabric. It's driving me crazy, that space.

"You're an old man!" He says.

I'm not. I take the TV remote from beside my thigh and throw it at him
lightly. His eyes widen a bit as he steps back and blocks it with his
hand. He uses the hand that was at his waist, so his towel sags a little
before he catches it and pulls it back up. He yanks it tighter and tucks it
in so it can sit above his hips on its own. Somehow. Those hips are pretty
narrow.

"Nice try." He sticks out his tongue at me.

"I'll beat you up, kid." I clench my fists and bite my lip. He knows I'm
joking.

"Come at me, bro!" He yells. He raises his arms. He's grinning wide now,
showing that tooth gap in the upper right of his mouth. Very amused at his
own antics.

The belly is unobstructed now. I'm staring. It's just slightly round as it
sticks out at me, a result of his posture. His skin is ridiculously
smooth. It's so smooth it's reflecting the light from the TV as it changes
color, flashing. His shoulders are slight and gentle. He's so fucking
young. I can't believe how young he is. He just turned eleven, like a few
weeks ago. Freshly eleven. That gap in his teeth. All that hairless
skin. Fucking shit.

This boy's no virgin anymore. I took that from him a while ago. He was
eight and I was babysitting. I'd known him for a couple years. We were in
his room, on his own bed. His own freaking bed. It was all hand stuff then,
though.

"Come at me bro," he repeats.

Ok. I spring to my feet and start toward him. He makes a frenzied attempt
to get back behind the bathroom door, but I catch him quickly. I lower my
upper body and pick him up onto my shoulder. I have him, I can feel his
warmth. He's half laughing, half screaming and flailing his limbs. He still
clings to his towel. Why? It's not like I haven't seen his naked ass
before. Maybe he's torturing me on purpose.

I turn around and toss him onto the bed. He lands on his back and
bounces. I try to catch a peek between his legs but the lighting isn't
right. He rolls over and tries to crawl away. I don't think so, buddy. I
catch both of his ankles and pull him back. He screams a playful
scream. He's so light. He's so young. He grabs the bedsheets, but they
offer no resistance. When he's close enough I take his shoulders and bring
him to his feet, facing the mattress, while I pin his lower body to the
side of the bed with my knees. I wrap my right arm around his arms and
chest. He's up against me now. I have him.

"Gotcha."

He's got a light grip on that right arm with both of his hands, but he's
not struggling anymore. My boner is pressed up against his back, and I'm
confident he can feel it. He's giggling now, no more screaming, but he
seems giddy. He tends to get like this when he knows we're about to have
sex. It's still new and exciting for him.

It's still exciting for me too. I think about his mom and dad, about
everyone who sees us hanging out together, and how oblivious they all
are. His parents, who I'm friends with, who I've been friends with, for
years, who trust me enough to let me babysit, to let me take him camping,
to let me be his chauffeur on overnight travel soccer tournaments. That's
where they need me the most, getting him to soccer games. They rely on
me. The team relies on me. He's good. He's fast. He plays on the wing. The
athlete in him is visible on the outside, too, but subtly. He's thin, but
not bony. He's got muscle tone in his arms, legs, and torso, but it's cute
little boy muscle tone that's only there if you look closely. He really is
a talent, and a liked kid, too. The other parents on the sidelines know
him, they ask me about him. How are you two related? Me? I'm just his
babysitter. His driver. A friend of his parents. Oh, and when nobody's
looking, I molest the shit out of his little hairless body.

I bring my free hand on top of his head and pull it back so it's pressing
on my chest.

"I'm gonna fuck you in the butt, little dude." I rub my bulge on his
spine. He can definitely feel it now.

He giggles again. From my right I grab a couple pillows to put under his
belly and I push his upper body back down to the bed. He needs to lift his
heels off the ground a few inches to make himself flush with the corner,
because he's short. I measure the height of his ass by pressing my bulge
against it. Perfect. I start feeling up and massaging his back. That smooth
skin. He's relaxed. I bring my hands to his sides and tickle him a
little. He squirms and squeals. I move my hands closer and thumb at the
edge of the towel. He fidgets and kind of wiggles his butt, I press up
against it again. It's a round butt. It's always been that way, since the
day I met him. Since the first time I stuck my dick in it.

I can't contain myself for much longer.

I work my hands underneath his belly. I want to grope his junk a little.

"Lift up." He arches his back so I can get in there more easily. "Good
boy." He giggles more.

I slip my hand gently underneath the towel, and slide it along that
unbelievably smooth pale skin. I find it and do my groping. It's soft. It's
so cute and small when it's soft. I give his foreskin a few tugs and he
gets hard almost immediately. I pull out and press him back down. We'll
save that for later. He'll have his turn. Right now, it's all me.

I finally slip his towel all the way down, yank it from around his legs,
and toss it aside. There it is. I know this butt. I feel up his cheeks and
holy shit they're so smooth and soft. I unbutton, unzip, and slide out of
my shorts and underwear so now I'm standing there with just my shirt
on. Ready to go. My impressively hard cock falls forward and the cool air
on it feels amazing. I could fuck him like this, I think, but then I
reconsider and pop my shirt over my head and throw it literally across the
room. Naked is the way to go.

"You're about to get fucked, kid." More giggles.

He's right there. Right there. Naked as shit. His ass is right there. And
my dick is out. I'm naked too.

I reach over for the Vaseline. It's right there on the nightstand, right
next to me. Fucking genius. I lube myself up. It's happening. I run the
head of my cock up and down his crack a couple times and then, like I've
done plenty of times in the past couple years, I aim for the hole and push
forward. I slide it right in until it's fully inside. Until I can feel his
skin on my ballsack. I can imagine it's still a strange feeling for him,
though familiar, having his butt stuffed with everything I've got. He
shifts himself, twisting his shoulders so he can see me. His legs move a
little too and I can feel them against my own. He doesn't say anything,
just looking, curious maybe. Curious to see the sight of me, this fully
grown, kind of hairy, twenty-something hunk of a pervert pressed up firmly
against his gentle little eleven-year-old body. Not a sight he hasn't seen
before, but still, it's quite the sight. As he observes, I can make out
those adorable little freckles under his eyes. It's go time. I grab under
his arms, push him flat against the bedsheets, and start to fuck.

I don't go super hard right out of the gates, but I make sure my pubes get
nice and smashed up against his upper butt cheeks at the end of each
thrust. I make sure I'm getting deep in there. I make sure he can feel me,
not just inside of him, but on the outside too.

He's pretty experienced at this point, so I can take him as deep as I
want. For a moment I'm amazed at this fact, that he has all this, you know,
experience. At eleven. All this experience that came from me, and only
me. If it weren't for me, the concept of, like, an orgasm, would probably
be foreign to him. He probably wouldn't even know what that word meant. At
eleven, some of his buddies might not even fucking know what sex is yet,
beyond that it makes babies sometimes. Eleven. I mouth the word to myself.

I start to fuck harder. I'm feeling the sides of his upper body from his
armpits - warm and hairless as fuck - down to his hips. He props his head
up, resting his chin on his hand. His butt looks even better with his back
arched like that. I'm fucking hard enough now that I can hear the slapping
of my hips against his cheeks. I fucking love that sound.

He fidgets again. "You almost done?" The pitch of his voice raises and
drops for each word because I'm plowing him like a porn star. He's
impatient. Getting fucked isn't really his thing. It's mine. But he knows
his turn is coming.

I stop for a moment, I'm deep, pressing hard against him. I slow my
breathing.

"I just started dude." He moans a little.

I mess with his hair, still a little damp, then rub his shoulders and run
my hands down his back. I widen my stance because I'm about to fuck him
even harder. I start. The slapping sound is louder now. I'm fucking really
hard. He's so cute to watch when he's getting fucked. His torso is getting
bumped forward every time I hit his ass, and he's having a hard time
keeping his chin balanced on his fingers. I'm fucking him so hard I feel
like this heavy ass queen bed is going to start edging away from me. I grip
him tightly under his armpits so I can pull him into me when I thrust
forward. Now he lowers his hands to the mattress for support, he has no
hope of balancing when he's rocking back and forth like this.

"Oh shit, buddy." I'm almost trembling.

He turns his head slightly. "Are you gonna splooge in my butt?"
Ha. Splooge. He knows I find that word hilarious. It's also funny to me
that he seems genuinely curious, too, like he hasn't figured me out yet. Of
course I am. I think he finds my sex drive fascinating, it's so different
from his - underdeveloped, prepubescent. His is simpler, broader. He likes
to orgasm. I like to get specific. To give him tasks. Mostly, though, I
like to put my jizz in his butt hole.

I pause again, dick all the way in of course.

"My splooge is going in your butt, yes," I say, grinding harder. "It's
gonna be in there when you're running around that soccer field later on."
He laughs. He thinks it's funny. That cute giggle again. I love the
giggles. "If you can even run after this," I add. He'll be fine, of course,
he's a champ. Now he's burying his face in his hands as he laughs, and it's
a higher pitched laugh. His voice can go pretty high. Because he's
eleven. I look down and for a moment admire the juxtaposition of my hairy,
manly pubic region pressed up against the flawless skin of his little boy
butt cheeks.

I tickle him aggressively but briefly on both sides of his ribcage. Another
squirm and squeal. I can feel him tighten just slightly around my shaft. I
want to squeeze him. I give him four more impossibly hard thrusts, complete
with the slapping and some creaks from the wooden bed frame, and I'm
splooging. My balls are pumping with force, squashed against his taint,
forcing my cum into his prepubescent body. Little boy, getting filled with
splooge. It's so wonderfully illegal. I feel like there's so much cum
pumping out that his butt is going to overflow and it's going to start
spilling out. It doesn't. I've stopped thrusting and am pressing against
his perky little ass once again, and I'm bent down with my left arm around
his shoulders, squeezing him. I'm breathing heavily and moaning and shit
and my dick is still pumping out that cum. Pump. Pump. Pump. It keeps
coming out, all warm against the skin of my shaft. He bites my forearm
lightly, because he's cute like that. Pump. Pump. I'm squeezing and his
skin is so smooth, it's so boyish.

My orgasm is slowing. I want him on my lap, so I roll him on top of me and
scoot backward. Nifty little maneuver. Now I'm sitting on the edge of the
mattress again. Like I was earlier. This time, though, I'm butt ass naked
and deep inside my favorite little friend. Did I mention that the boy is
barely fucking eleven? As he sits his back is a little slouched, and I can
look over his shoulder and see his skin fold across that lightly toned
abdomen. The folds are shallow, because there's not much between skin and
muscle. Still squeezing him by the shoulders, I take my other hand and
bring it to his hairless little boy crotch and start fondling. My dick is
still oozing slowly, pumping sporadically. He's getting hard again. He
looks up and around at me. Blue eyes. They're bluer up close. They're
bigger from above. He grins a toothy grin.

"My turn."