Date: Wed, 21 Mar 2007 16:38:15 -0700 (PDT)
From: Jeff Spencer <jeffspencer69@yahoo.com>
Subject: Clash of Cultures, Part 7 (M/t/t, oral, anal, incest)

Clash of Cultures, Part 7 (M/t/t, oral, anal, incest)

This story involves descriptions of a sexual encounter between a man and
teenaged boys. Be warned, and do not read if reading this type of story is
illegal for you. It IS fiction. If you like it, drop me a line at
JeffSpencer69@yahoo.com. The story is Copyright Jeff Spencer, 2007.

Please contribute some money to Nifty if you enjoy this and other works
posted there. You can also find many the following VERY HOT stories by
`Jeff Spencer' listed under `Prolific Internet Authors' at Nifty:

    * All Cats are Grey
    * Blue Eyed Accident
    * Boy Beach
    * Chris and Terry's Neighborly Adventure
    * Clash of Cultures
    * Dream
    * Jeff Comes Out
    * Jiffee Lube
    * Justin's Story
    * Lick It or Ticket
    * Locker Room Lovers
    * Loving Ryan and Chris
    * Me and Bobby McKee
    * Meeting Timmy
    * Pleasure Island
    * Queer Factor
    * Tony and Me
    * Weekend at B.A.'s
    * Writer's Block
    * You and I at the Arcade
    * Your Dream
    * Pool Boy

Author's Note - I strongly encourage you to read this story FROM THE
BEGINNING!!

==================================

As you know, I was fulfilling a task set for me by the diabolical Stanley
Perkins, aka Brother Sybilious, who was in some ways a puppet master.

He had intimated that he was either the Devil, or working for the Devil,
but that he wasn't really the Devil....I'm willing to bet that makes no
sense to you, if you haven't read the preceding chapters. Believe me, it
makes little sense to me, either.

He had somehow caused me to experience a dream involving a wild orgy with
the nine British boys I would meet in the making of a commercial, and had
caused me to change my orientation from a somewhat disinterested
heterosexual, to an enthusiastic boy lover! As it turned out, that orgy WAS
a dream, involving what those boys would LIKE to do, if their innate gay
tendencies were allowed to flower. He had warned me that, if the boys' gay
inclinations were thwarted, they would eventually end up miserably. I had
to prevent that, through the means of shared dreams, one for each boy. 13
year old Kevin had been the first, followed by 10 year old David.

All I knew was, I had to seduce the nine boys in the cast of this
commercial, over the next two weeks, or they would be damned for
eternity. I couldn't let that happen to those sweet boys! If I was
successful in my tasks, I would have made them aware of their innermost
desires, and saved their souls, if not my own.

I ate a leisurely breakfast the next morning, musing over the dreams of the
last two nights. The first had been a Roman orgy involving Kevin, a
dark-haired cutie from the cast; the second, David, a 10 year old blond in
a shared dream in which I was a 19th century British squire, and David and
another boy were valets serving me (whom I had decided needed
`punishment'). There had been a noticeable effect on Kevin, and I wondered
if the effect of a shared dream would hold up with David, and how he might
react in `real life'.

Kevin had been wildly excited during the orgy, enjoying cock every bit as
much as Stanley Perkins had predicted, and as had David, the whole time he
was being spanked, and fucked and sucking cock. I drove out to the filming
site, located in an abandoned manufacturing plant, with its picturesque
decaying brick walls. It was drizzling, and so everyone was gathered
inside, the boys had camp chairs pulled up in a circle, and were playing
some boyish game. I didn't want to disturb them, but as I walked by, David
jumped down from his chair, ran over to me, and hugged me - he didn't say a
word.

My cock began to stiffen - it wasn't that long ago, in my perception, that
I had had my arms around the 10 year old boy, but we were both naked, and
my cock was deep inside his ass, and he was certainly enjoying himself! But
that was a `dream', shared or not, and I needed to focus on the commercial
we were filming, though I promised myself that I'd have a few words with
David later, to assess his feelings.

I noticed that, when he ran back to his seat, several boys joshed him, but
Kevin looked at David contemplatively, as though working something
out. Kevin was seated next to Sean, a red haired boy, and quickly returned
to him, touching him frequently as they conversed. I wondered if perhaps he
was seducing Sean.

Our filming went on without much problem, and Stanley Perkins, the
mysterious arranger of things, invited me to another dinner with the
boys. The first had gone disastrously, apparently to further Perkins'
machinations, but this one was quite pleasant, the food was very good, and
the boys, all of them, much more bubbly than the first time we'd met. I
paid attention to both Kevin and David, wanting to see how they behaved
now. They'd been quiet and almost surly the first time I met them, at least
in `real life'.

Kevin, for his part, now seemed more relaxed, as though something he'd
bottled up inside had been released. He was almost affectionate with the
red head Sean, and Sean seemed pleased to be the object of Kevin's
attention, if not his affections. The two boys got along swimmingly, both
in conversation and as a couple, both of similar taste in clothing, culture
and sports. I was very happy for Kevin, and wondered if I'd be seeing Sean
in a dream soon.

I hadn't yet spoken to David, only enjoyed his quick embrace earlier, so
when I excused myself to visit the men's room, I was a little surprised to
see 10 year old David at the urinal when I exited the stall.

"Hi, David," I said, as I washed my hands. "What's new?"

"Umm....was it real, Jeff? MY dream last night....was it real?" He looked
almost haunted.

"Your dream...with me in it? And a boy named Cypher?" I said in a low
voice.

"Oh god, then it WAS real!" he exclaimed.

"Shhhhh," I said. "Yes, it was as real as a dream can be, and you and I
shared it."

"Why?" he asked.

"I don't know for sure," I said, mindful that I must not directly reveal to
the boys the reasons for such dreams - the salvation of their lives and
perhaps souls. "But did you find that you liked what we did?"

"Oh, yes," he said, shaking off his little peter, and pulling away from the
porcelain, letting me see that it was stiffly erect. "Very much so!"

"Well, that's what you needed to become aware of, that you're different
from many other people, but you're not alone in that difference. Do you
understand that?"

"Oh yes, I think so, sir," David replied. "Do you think you might want to,
you know..."

"Suck your hot little boy cock? Yes, I'd love to," I said. "But I've got to
lock the door, and take care of you quickly, or others might suspect."

"Yes, yes, hurry!" he said. I think he was ready to cum without being
touched! I locked the door, then knelt in front of him in the center of the
bathroom. He dropped his pants to the floor, his little tighty whities
sliding down more slowly to mid thigh. I reached under his sack, and gently
lifted his balls, planting a kiss on each one through his hairless sack,
his dick resting against my face as I did.

I slipped the head of his prick into my mouth, tasting a faint salty taste
from a drop of boy pee still lodged in his piss slit. I could feel his
heart beat pulsing through the vein on the underside of his cock, filled as
it was with his blood, excitement racing in to expand and enlarge that hot
shaft - the age old physical reaction of a boy or man in heat. My lips
slipped wetly down the velvety shaft, easily engulfing him to the base of
that sweet dick.

My tongue licked around the sides of his pink shaft, like licking the
melting sides of an ice cream cone. His taste was salty and musky, his male
hormones more readily producing the distinctive aromas and flavors of a
man, as opposed to a child. The dam had been broken in our dream the night
before, and he would never again be satisfied by purely childish things.

"Mmm, that feels so nice," he cooed, as his small fingers twirled through
my hair, urging me to suck harder and faster on his yearning penis. I knew
we didn't have much time, so I bobbed my head up and down quickly, my
tongue roughly teasing his piss slit, the underside of his cock head, and
back to his smooth, pink shaft, a boy's wee wee turning, before my eyes,
into a cock.

I could feel his hips rocking back and forth with lust. I reached into the
tight, hot, damp cleft between his thighs, just under his moist ball sack,
and stroked my finger over the tight skin between his balls and his anus,
my finger driving for that sweet, pink opening, tightly held, but also
anxious for my penetration. David groaned as he felt the tip of my finger
enter him.

"Ohhh," he sighed, bending down slightly to separate his thighs and open
his anal pucker, As I drove my finger deep inside his tight, hot ass hole,
David's hips jerked forward, his cock filling my mouth once again, and I
felt warm, wet spurts of boy cum jet into the back of my throat.

"Fantastic!" he exclaimed, his body wobbling as pleasure coursed through
his being, a boy once again experiencing the pleasures of being with a
man. I held him to keep him from falling with my left hand.

His anal sphincter spasmodically opened and closed on my finger as he came,
again and again, until finally, he sighed and slumped against my steadying
hand. "Kiss me, won't you, Jeff?" he sighed, and I released his now
shrinking dick, to lean up, our faces meeting, lips pressing together
warmly and familiarly, a kiss between a man and boy imbued with passion and
friendship.

Breaking the kiss, and standing, I looked down at him, and smiled. He
smiled back.

"I knew it was real, though it was a dream, too," he said. "I knew it had
to be. Nothing so lovely as that should be a fantasy."

"Yes, it was, David," I said. "Can you accept your attraction to other
boys, and men?"

"Oh yes," he said, smiling again. "I never knew before why I wanted to
touch other boys, and be with them, and I was confused when my father
cursed out what he called `queers' and `faggots', for doing what I thought
I might want to do someday. And that day came!" He looked radiant with
happiness.

"I know to keep it from my father. He's a product of his childhood, I
suppose, when such things wren't `right'. I shall always love him, but I
shall always understand what and who I am, and be proud of it." I was
amazed at the maturity of the boy's words.

"Well, we'd better go back before they start talking," I said.

"I hope that Ian is talking about me," David teased. "I think he's rather
cute."

"Ian?" I said.

"Yes, the 12 year old blond, from Kensington....how could you miss him?
He's quite beautiful," David said, most seriously. Now that I thought about
it, it had been Ian who had been David's boy friend in my `orgy'
dream. Perhaps it WAS based on these boys' real lives at some future point,
and not just a `dream'.

When we returned to the table, no one had seemed to particularly miss us,
and soon I was apologizing for having to leave, but `I must have my beauty
sleep' as I pleaded, and the party broke up. The boys went upstairs to
their rooms, as I went to mine. Oddly, after the rather traumatic
confrontation I had with `Stanley Perkins', he acted rather normally in his
role of chaperone, and didn't cast me any sly looks, or mutter wry
comments, as you might expect some self-important creature to do.

I mused on the nature of Stanley Perkins. Was he a demon, a devil? Or an
angel? He'd never actually defined what `side' he came down on, and he'd
even intimated that the sides were hardly `black' and `white' as we often
painted them. All I knew was, he'd introduced me to a world I'd not ever
really considered, and he had persuaded me to teach these boys about things
they might not have ever considered before. Was that evil, or a force for
good? If it resulted in these boys experiencing lives better than they
would have before, I had to believe it was good.

I had no desire to hurt any of these boys. Indeed, if I thought there was
the possibility of that outcome, I would have refused the task he set
before me. I found myself falling in love with each boy, as I came to know
him - not only in the dreams, but working beside them each day. They were
wonderful lads, and I could wish nothing more for them than an eternity of
ultimate happiness.

I settled into bed, watching a late night cowboy movie, and dozed off.

Dreams - Cowboys at play

I don't remember turning off the tv, but that was of little consequence, as
once again I found myself in another, colorful dream. I was standing in a
large stable, with thick waves of straw spread out all over the floor, and
large, rectangular bales of hay scattered through the open area.  The air
was heavy with the miscellaneous airborne dust of an active barn.

Around me were the weathered boards of a barn, rising straight up for about
20 feet, and forming a peaked board roof, with spears of sunlight through
cracks and gaps in the wall and roof lighting the room clearly, and
highlighting particles of dust floating through the air. It seemed to be
mid- afternoon from the angle of the sun's rays. The sun felt good on my
skin where it touched, though the barn was pleasantly warm already.

There were several paddocks on opposite sides of the barn, with horses
tethered in them. Their whinnying and nickering sounded musical to my ears,
unaccustomed normally to such sounds. In this dream, though, they sounded
so natural. The smell of horse manure and pee was quite noticeable, and I
was reminded of my cousins' ranch I had visited many times as a boy.

I looked down at myself, and found that I was decked out as I would imagine
a rancher from late 19th century America would - flannel shirt, kerchief at
my neck, and worn jeans, with well-worn boots, light brown in color. "Am I
on a dude ranch?" I wondered, when I heard a creaking sound behind me.

I turned to see Michael, a brown-haired boy from the commercial cast,
entering the barn, dressed in a fashion similar to mine. He had on a
cotton, blue-check shirt, faded, worn jeans, and boots similar to mine,
although obviously a lot smaller. Michael was older than most of the other
boys in the cast, 14, and as I recalled from my `orgy' dream, he was
well-developed, with a 6" long cock and a small brown bush at the base of
it. I certainly remembered him filling my ass with immense loads of boy
cum!

Michael looked confused, as you might also be when placed into the middle
of a dream, featuring a setting with which you might not be very
familiar. "You're walking kind of funny, there, Michael," I said. I knew,
in the context of the dream, that I was his father.

"Uh, yes sir," he replied. "I guess riding `Black Devil' was a bad idea,
pa." He nodded at a black stallion in one of the paddocks, grazing
peacefully from a bale of hay.

"Yes, I'd say so," I said, frowning. "You'd better let me look at that."
Michael walked over next to me and stood before me.

"Hey pa, when's Robert coming home?" I knew, within my dream-self, that
Robert was my 18- year old son, as Michael was my 14 year old boy. He'd
gone out several days before, `riding the fences', checking them and fixing
them as needed so that our cattle wouldn't wander off.

"You know that takes a couple of days, Michael," I said. "He'll be along."
I could understand him asking after his older brother, though. He adored
him, as Robert loved Michael, and they needed to be there for each other,
since I was constantly busy with our cattle ranch, and their mother had
passed on so many years before.

"Let down your trousers, and turn around," I said. His brown hair was
completely tousled, partially covering his eyes while sprouting a big
cowlick, and the right side of his body, pants, shirt and side of his face,
was covered with the fine, red dust that was common around our ranch.  He
struggled, shrugging off his suspenders, his oversized jeans almost
immediately slumping to the ground. They were hand-me-downs from his older
brother Robert.

Michael's smooth legs were revealed, and his shirt tail covered his small
round butt. I felt a small pang of disappointment at that. "Hold this up,"
I directed him, placing the bottom hem of his shirt into his hands. He
lifted them up, and I could see his cute bottom, round and full, though
still covered in white underpants. There was a brown line of dirt circling
his waist, where dust had flown in when Devil threw him and he hit the
ground.

Starting under his arms, I began gently pressing his muscles to see if they
were sore, or worse, if anything was broken. I knew the doc was back in
town, and if he'd need to see him, we had a long ride ahead of us. Michael
giggled at first, as I touched him under his arms. "Pa, that tickles!"  he
exclaimed. I sighed.

"C'mon, Michael, I'm trying to see if you broke anything. Now just be
quiet!" I remonstrated him gently. He was my baby boy, and I wanted him to
grow up right. That included making sure he was healthy. He quieted, and my
hands and fingers returned to tactilely inspecting his body. I found his
slim, boy body, warm and smooth, pleasant to the touch. In some ways he
reminded me of his mother, Sarah, dead for 12 years now from the cholera,
and buried in the family plot near the ranch house.

He sighed a few times as my fingers lightly ran down his body, dipping
inward along the sides below his ribs, then out again when I got to his
wider hips and butt. Michael was 5' 5" tall, and 110 pounds, and I figured
he'd end up being fairly large, if he took after me. Of course, if he took
after Sarah, he'd remain petite. So far his nature was a mixture of gruff
masculinity and an appealing femininity.

"Gonna have to pull down your undershorts son," I told him, and he pushed
out his butt a little. I slipped them down off his hips and over his
bottom, until they puddled around his ankles. His bottom took my breath
away - it was just as smooth and as round as I remembered Sarah's, and I
felt a stirring in my pants.

I ran my fingers over the full swell of his ass globes, and Michael sighed
again. "That feels nice, pa," he said.

"I reckon it does, Michael," I chuckled. "It looks like you've got some
bruising on the right side of your thigh," I said, lightly touching him
there. "We'll have to watch that." Of course, we didn't have ice to put on
it, being a ranch in the late 1800s. "I think maybe massaging you would
help get your blood flowing, help the healing," I said.

"That sounds good, pa," Michael agreed.

"Why don't you strip off the rest of your clothes, and lay them over these
bales, and you can lay there and I'll massage you?" I said.

"Okay," he replied, beginning to unbutton his shirt, as I moved four bales
together to make an impromptu table. He undressed completely, keeping on
just his boots, nothing else. If you've ever been in a barn, you'll
understand why. Rusty nails and horse shit were a bad combination,
especially when antibiotics hadn't yet been invented.

I felt my cock harden, looking at this young, teenaged boy, his cock
already quite hard, pink head standing proudly, adolescent balls hanging
down below it. When he turned, his ass was pale, if dusty, perfectly round
and nearly feminine in its prominence, and a purple bruise down his right
side. His slim legs disappeared into his high leather boots, an unusual,
though charming, picture.

We arranged his shirt and pants on the bales of hay for him to lie
on. "That's not enough," I said.  "You're going to get scratched." I looked
around for an old horse blanket or something, but none were to be
found. "Here, we'll use my shirt," I said. With the two shirts, and
Michael's jeans, we made a comfortable surface for him to lie on. "Go
ahead, get on down," I gestured.

Michael lay on his stomach, making himself comfortable. His body was long
and slim, and completely unmarred, save for the bruise and the streaks of
dust that had leaked through and turned to mud where they met his
sweat. "Boy, you surely need a bath," I said exasperatedly.

"Yes, pa," he replied submissively. I began stroking along his body, from
the scalp, slowly, down over his shoulders, down his back and sides, which
made him giggle again (I smiled at that), then up the rising swell of his
perfect buttocks, into the cleft of his ass ( I confess, I didn't HAVE to
touch him there, but I WANTED to), and down the back, insides and outsides
of his sweet thighs, calves and then, finally, his feet. Michael sighed,
and wriggled around on his makeshift bed.

Then I began again, massaging him harder, actually pressing and pulling his
muscle groups. I wasn't just a dumb rancher, in the dream I was aware that
I'd had some primitive medical training in the cavalry, years
before. Michael sighed contentedly as I worked his muscles, and I felt like
I was opening up a part of my life I'd closed 12 years before, when Michael
and Robert's mother had died.

"Oh, pa, my bottom itches inside, I need to scratch," he said, reaching
around.

"I'll take care of it," I said quickly. "Goodness knows where your fingers
have been." I don't know what difference that might make, but it justified
my fingers touching him there, instead of his, in my mind at least. I
separated his tight butt cheeks, the cleft between a naturally tan color,
his small hole brown and winking. There was no hair back there at all, and
I found that fact oddly pleasing. "In there?" I asked.

"Yes, pa, it just needs scratching," he said, trying to look around. I
worked up a mouthful of spit, then hocked it into his dark cleft, the clear
saliva pooling in the puckered hollow. Then I slid the tip of my finger
into the warm liquid, scratching at his anus - I'd had the same problem as
a boy, and I knew it could drive a man, or boy, to distraction.

My finger slid in and out, my short nail scratching against the rubbery,
puckered muscle, which tightened and relaxed as I touched it. "How's that,
son?" I asked.

"Oh, pa, it's so, so good," Michael moaned. His hips were moving slightly,
and I think I knew subconsciously what was happening. I was bringing him
pleasure beyond just `scratching his itch,' and it had been so long since
that kind of pleasure could be found on our ranch, I didn't want to
stop. Then I realized that it was bringing me pleasure, too, when I noticed
that my finger was slipping all the way inside his wet hole, and he was
humping his cute ass up to get it in even deeper.

"Pa, that feels so nice," Michael moaned, and then all hell broke loose,
figuratively speaking. He slowly rolled over, his body naked, with a few
stray pieces of straw sticking to it. His smooth, creamy chest, with two
small, pink nipples, like hard buttons, his boy's cock, looking harder and
certainly bigger, than I'd ever seen it in our day to day existence,
sticking up proudly, a small glob of white pre-cum filling his piss slit,
and threatening to spill over.

His sky blue eyes, so much like his Ma's, looked up at me, searchingly,
beseechingly, beckoning me in, and I felt powerless to resist their
attraction. "This is so wrong," I muttered under my breath, as I found my
face nearing Michael's. Our lips, just inches apart, I could feel his
breath on my cheek, and even the heat from his bare chest near mine.

Our lips touched, not pressing, only touching, and I could have resisted, I
think, until Michael's arms went around my neck, pulling me closer, and his
voice, suddenly wracked by loneliness and need, gasped, "Oh, pa, please!"

My own voice echoed his loneliness and need, and I mashed my lips to his,
kissing my young, teenaged son with a passion that even exceeded that I'd
felt for Sarah. His body molded against mine, both of us sweaty and dirty
from our labors that day, slickly and warmly embracing. I groaned. "Oh
Michael! I want you, SO MUCH!" Even then, I wasn't sure in what ways I
would want him, but I needed his embrace, and his love.

Like a dam breaking, once we both gave in to our need, there was no
`fixing'things, no `turning back.' I felt Michael's hands fumbling at my
waist, and I let him unsnap the copper rivet keeping my pants closed, then
push them down my hips as he lay on top of me, my cock, 8" long and feeling
even bigger, uncoiling like a snake, anxious to be in his grasp, and
elsewhere. My pants disappeared off my thighs, down over my boots, and I
was just as naked as my son, wearing only my worn leather boots, the cool
air like a refreshing bath on my body, Michael's body a warm blanket where
it touched mine.

We kissed long and hard, grinding our hard cocks against each other,
humping another male's hot body - my hairy, man's body, cock thick and
long, balls heavy with lust; his body, nearly hairless and slim, still a
young boy, his cock long and skinny, without the heft and heat that
adolescence would bring to it, his balls smaller but still potent.

My hands roved again over his boyish, pale bottom, his small, round cheeks
filling my hands and then some, my touch now that of a hungry lover, not a
father. My fingers gravitated again to that dark opening between them, his
heat incredible and so exciting. My cock felt as though it would
explode. "Baby, I've GOT to fuck, you understand that, don't you?" I
moaned, hoping against hope that my son Michael would beg me to penetrate
him, to satisfy this intense hunger.

"Put your penis inside me, pa? Inside my hole, back there?" he asked, voice
tremulous with fear.  "But it might hurt..."

"No, baby, I'll make it not hurt," I promised him, and meaning it.

He hesitated, then said, "Okay, pa, I love you, I want you to be happy, and
I want to be happy with you. Put it in me, fuck me," he said, his breath
catching. I knew he still had that fear.

"Roll over, baby," I said, rolling him off me, so that he lay on his back,
naked, like a baby boy waiting for a diaper change - and how many times had
I seen him in that position so many years before? I looked at his slim
body, so proud of my young son, and how he was turning out, and smiled. "I
love you, Michael," I said.

"I love you, too, pa," Michael said, his blue eyes soft, and full of
love. His dick betrayed his anxiousness to get on with the fucking, though,
swelling with heat and hardness. Moisture gathered within his sweet piss
slit, boy cum pressing to escape.

"Lift up your legs," I said, helping him move his legs up so that his
thighs were pressed against his smooth chest. His penis flopped onto his
stomach, pointing toward his face, his small, but heavy balls hanging down
onto the underside of his butt cheeks. The dark cleft I had seen and
touched between those sweet globes was now fully exposed, an area of
thicker, darker flesh, with his tiny puckered hole centered on it. My mouth
watered at the sight of it, and the thought that I would actually soon be
licking a boy's tight, puckered shit hole, and filling it with my erect,
turgid flesh.

I leaned down, kissing the backs of his thighs before me, inexorably
getting nearer and nearer to that beautiful boy pussy that would bring us
both pleasure, and relief. As I approached his bottom, his flesh growing
paler as it had rarely been exposed to direct sunlight there, the aroma of
his boy musk grew. It was not unpleasant - rather, it was the combined
scents of boy sweat, the musk of his sexual arousal, and frankly, the
faintest scent of his ass hole. But Michael was very clean there, and I had
no fear of encountering anything unpleasant as I licked and kissed him. I
wanted my mouth, and his ass hole, to join in the most intimate and private
kiss of all.

The level of heat, and moisture, increased also as I neared his center. The
joint of his groin with his thighs was naturally hot and sweaty, and his
smooth, round ass cheeks were a repository of heat and moisture, very close
to his hole. I licked the tiny rivulets of salty fluid coating the cleft
between his ass cheeks, and Michael responded happily to the intrusion by
my tongue into his nether opening.

"Your tongue feels so nice, there,.Pa," he sighed. "Lick me, lick my....my
ass," he finished. His hesitation at talking about his ass with his father,
seemed to disappear when he considered just where his father's mouth was!
He pulled his thighs even closer to his chest, seemingly to like the feel
of his father's tongue near his ass hole, and trying to encourage it
closer. "Yeah, lick my hole, stick your tongue inside me!" he urged me on.

Of course, I hardly needed encouragement. The salty taste of his skin, the
erotically charged smell of his body, the heat of his nether hole on my
cheeks, the silkiness of his ass flesh on me, and the small whimpering
sounds of pleasure he made, drove me harder and faster, in my desire to
penetrate his virginal hole. At long last, my tongue, pink and wet, reached
the rubbery, puckered skin of his anal sphincter. As my tongue crossed that
forbidden boundary, Michael moaned with anticipation and lust. "Oh god," he
groaned.

My rough tongue circled around and around that oval of pleasure, following
each wrinkle and crenelation, heat intense now, radiating from his anus. My
tongue, anxious now, thrust into the dark center of his pulsing opening,
his hips shaking with pleasure at the touch. Michael's cock was intensely
hard now, pre cum leaking copiously from his piss slit, the creamy fluid
running down the pink, velvety shaft. The vein underneath his shaft was
pulsing with his need for a man inside him, and the ultimate relief of an
orgasm.

I couldn't resist at least touching his lovely penis, my right hand lightly
encircling the sensitive shaft, sliding up and down its thickness in a
motion that I knew would drive him insane with lust and desire. His pre cum
pulsed out, almost like small cums, and his moans came in time with the
pulsing jizz, small orgasms not yet driving him over the edge. "Unnngh, so
good, so good!" he moaned above me, as I continued licking at his hole. His
hips were now rotating around, like a bitch begging to be fucked, to have
her hot hole filled with a hard, blasting cock. He would be my little
bitch.

I attacked his small boy pussy intently with my mouth, now, my lips
fastened to his brown sphincter, my lips and tongue voraciously eating out
his hole. Thrusting my tongue inside his anus, while my fist continued
stroking his hot shaft, brought him to an explosion of ecstasy.

"Goddamn! Fuck! Fuck, I'm cumming!! Fuckin' shooting cum, pa!!" he yelled,
his legs rocking back and forth as electricity shot through his body,
wracked with pleasure. I felt the oozing cum turn into a volcanic flow of
boy cream, thick, sticky and hot, as load after load of his jizz shot out
of his tortured piss slit, all over my hand and into my hair. I lifted my
head up to see the almost pained expressions passing over Michael's face as
he experienced pleasure as he never had before.

Michael was breathing heavily, almost gasping, his slim chest heaving with
the explosiveness of his relief. As he recovered from the sensory overload,
I gently took my cum-covered hand from his pole. White, creamy boy fluid
dripped off my skin, musky smelling and fragrant. His cock shaft was
sensitive to touch now, and I smeared the thick coating of boy cream on his
dark ass hole, lubricating that tight crevice, to ready it for something
much bigger and much harder than a tongue. The white ooze filled his crack,
and then my index finger pushed his cum deeper inside him, mixing with the
saliva I had left there previously.

"Oh!" Michael yelped, as sensation slowly transferred in his brain, from
his stimulated cock to his now submissive ass hole, my index finger slowly
slipping in and out of him. As his dick even now softened, his ass hole
began gripping, then rotating around, my finger as I slowly fucked him. It
was clear that his body was automatically responding to the stimulus of
being fucked, on a small scale, considering the small size of my finger in
comparison to my fat cock. Small ripples of pleasure shivered through my
cock at the thought of filling that cute hole.

"Unh, yeah," he grunted, the pain and fullness of a hard object in his ass
becoming more and more a pleasurable experience. "Unnh," he repeated,
grabbing my hand to force my finger deeper inside him. I chuckled, then
doubled my fingers, making him wince at first, then quickly return to his
slutty demands for more inside him. "Fuck me, pa, fuck me now, please?" he
begged, his blue eyes filled with lust, and a little unfocused with the
pleasure overload building again inside him.

He looked so sexy, his hips moving about as he begged for my cock, his eyes
half-lidded with desire for my dick inside him, and his tongue licking his
lips, wetting them as though he were ready to suck cock while being fucked
- it all described a boy ready for fucking, so I knelt between his legs,
bringing my thick, purple cock head to his slimy, slick brown hole, and
quickly thrust it deep inside him. As much as I wanted to make it slow and
gentle, my need and my reading of his excitement, told me that a rapid,
quick deflowering would be best.

"Yaagh!" he yelled, the pain and shock of being filled with a man's cock
where none had ever gone before, taking away his breath, leaving him
gasping. In spite of that, his hips were still thrusting back at my cock,
even as my hairy balls banged against the backs of his thighs, and his
penis began growing again, incredibly. The pleasure of being man-fucked was
quickly exceeding any pain my son might have felt, and he was quickly
responding to my thrusts, pleasure coursing through him each time he
twisted himself, impaled on my staff.

Just then I heard a soft chuckle from my right side, looking over I was
shocked to see 18 year old Robert standing there, his clothes dusty, sweat
running down him. He smelled like a combination of horse and man sweat, and
streaks of red dust lined his face and arms. He had obviously ridden flat
out, and the heavy breathing of his horse, tethered by the entrance, told
the story of the horse and rider's haste to return. Looking more closely, I
saw that he had his own 8" cock out, and was slowly stroking it with his
leather-gloved hand. It was hard, stiffly bobbing upward, his uncircumcised
shaft already leaking cum, as he pulled back the foreskin to expose his
moist piss slit.

He put his hand on my bare ass, his middle finger slipping into the hot
crevice between my butt cheeks, teasing my own, tight and dark hole. He
leaned over and kissed me, for the first time on my lips.

"I always hoped," he began, "I always hoped that I wasn't alone in my
desire for this. I used to watch you, pa, when you'd bathe, and I wanted to
have one just like you, but I wanted to touch yours, too. And Michael, I've
dreamed of kissing your soft little lips, and making love to you, but I
never dared...."

Michael, already overwhelmed by lust, moaned at the sight of his older
brother's rampant cock, and the prospect of it being in his mouth, fucking
him there, even as his father's dick fucked his tight boy pussy. "I'd love
to suck your cock, Robert," he whispered. "Fuck my mouth, feed me your
cum!"

"It looks like we've got some catching up to do," I said, "but for now do
you think you can find a warm, wet place to put that cock?" Robert took my
meaning, and looking into Michael's eyes, saw that his younger brother
wanted it as much as he did. He moved closer to Michael's mouth, the
younger boy turning his face to the side, opening his mouth, to accept the
thick and hard thrusting cock. I watched, enthralled, slowing Michael's ass
fucking, as Robert's cock, the equal of mine, neared his younger brother's
mouth.

Michael unconsciously licked his lips, anticipating the feel of a thick
dick head between his lips, and thrusting over his rough, pink tongue; the
smell of a man's hot, sweaty crotch next to his nose, rich with musk and a
man's body odor; Robert's thick patch of curly, brown pubic hair tickling
his little, snub nose; the grunts of the 18 year old as he fucked his wet
and warm mouth; the warm, salty taste of a man's pre-cum, oozing from his
wet piss slit, soon followed by spurts of thick, creamy man-jizz filling
his mouth.

"Mmmmm," Michael moaned around the plump head of his brother's cock,
sucking it like a two- dollar whore. Robert thrust his cock deeper into his
brother's hot mouth, fucking him there with gusto. I watched, amazed, as
Robert's 8" dick, thrust by thrust, sank deeper and deeper into his
brother's greedy mouth and throat. Robert's hips pressed forward, his taut
butt cheeks wrapped in his tight, worn and wet denim jeans. I found myself
wanting to see his ass naked, up close, my face pressing between those
round man globes, my tongue licking into his hot, sweaty hole.

I picked up the pace of my thrusting inside of Michael's tight boy ass,
which had slowed as I watched the two boys interacting. Of course, the
feeling of my son's tight buns gripping my cock, combined with the sight of
one son's hot ass, as he thrust his hard dick into his younger brother's
mouth, had the effect of making Robert and I ready to cum quickly.

"God, you boys are so hot, such beautiful young fuckers, I want to cum
inside you both, and have you cum in me! Fuck Michael with that deliciously
stiff pecker, Robert, and cum in his mouth, fill him with your hot jizz!
Suck that fat cock, Michael, while I fuck your boy cunt with my big dick,
and cum inside your sweet little hole! FUCK!"

I lost control, slamming my cock and swinging balls into Michael, the
virginal 14 year old boy now wildly excited as he fell into his own
orgasm. Robert watched the play of expressions racing across his brother's
face, and timed his own orgasm to match his brother and me.

"Oh, you fucking slut!" Robert bellowed. "Your hot, sucking mouth feels
better than any girl's pussy! Hold still, cunt, while I cum in your mouth!"
Both Robert and I began spurting inside the young boy at the same time, hot
man jizz coating inside his sweet mouth and cute ass hole, as between us we
pounded him into pleasurable submission.

As the hot, creamy sauce began to splash over his insides, Michael, too,
orgasmed, small fountains of boy sperm jetting across his stomach and
chest. Our bodies rubbed and pushed against each other, and a few minutes
later, after we'd been able to recover ourselves a little, we sat, side by
side, on a bale of hat, smaller Michael sandwiched between his older
brother and I.  We found ourselves kissing each other passionately - three
males rebuilding themselves as a family after 12 years of distance from
each other. We knew we'd never part again.

The next thing I knew, I was waking up, alone again (naturally) in my bed.

"Wow, that was one HELL of a realistic dream," I said to myself.

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If you liked this story, drop me a line at JeffSpencer69@yahoo.com.  Thanks!