Date: Tue, 15 May 2012 23:35:50 +0200
From: hendrikfortune@hushmail.com
Subject: Desert - Chapter 1

Desert - Chapter 1

Section: Adult Youth and/or Incest

This is a work of fiction. It involves sex between a father and his adopted
son. If this is not legal to read where you are, please don't!

Comments, suggestions and everything else welcome at
hendrikfortune@hushmail.com

Arno looked up at me, all innocent round eyes. Little tyke knew how to play
me, for sure.

"Please daddy", he said again.

"No Arno, and that's final." Now he was turning on the sad puppy eyes, and
his bottom lip starts to quiver. He was a muscular little boy, but small
for his age and just about reached up to my hip. He has sandy hair and the
bluest eyes you can imagine, and he knew how to use them. God he was going
to be a stunner when he was older. I wish I could say he took after me, but
I adopted him as a todler. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't hit with an ugly
stick! At 36, I had a respectable body, but where Arno was fair I had
Mediterranean looks with dark, olive skin and nearly black eyes. Adoption
as a single gay parent, especially as a man, wasn't that easy even a few
years ago (well I guess it still isn't), but nothing was going to stop me
and I made it happen (of course, it also helped that I am a trust-fund
baby, and money is no object).

A little sniffle brings me back to the moment. I look down into his
sad face and my heart melts. Damnit, the little punk really has me
wrapped around his pinkie. "Daddy please, I promise I will look
after him, really!" God I should have known coming to the pet-shop
was a bad idea. We already had a 2 year-old chocolate Labrador at
home that adored Arno, but now he wanted a little cocker spaniel
puppy. To be fair, the pup was cute. Probably around 4 months old,
with a wet nose and bright eyes and orange-brown fur. Bloody puppy
also knew exactly which little boy to latch on to! This pet store
was our favourite because they actually allowed the kids to play
with the puppies (under strict supervision), and although we've
visited many times this instant attraction of Arno with a specific
puppy has never happened before. I squat down beside my sad little
champ and cup his face in my left hand.

"Look at me". Of course he doesn't, now that he has my full
attention Arno looks down at the floor. "Arno, I said look at me!"
I squeeze his chin between my fingers, just starting to put real
force into it before Arno winces and looks up. I lower my voice to
a whisper, as I don't want to scare the other parents around me,
do I, and hiss at him. "What the fuck did I tell you about
tantrums?" Again he looks down, but the shaky shoulders from a few
moments ago immediately disappears. I put my right hand around his
waist, appearing to gently hold him while now squeezing with both
hands. "I asked you a question". He looks back into my eyes, and I
can see a glimmer of fear but also excitement. We've played this
game before.

"I don't remember daddy." By god, is he starting to smirk? "Think
hard, baby, " I tell him, and he mumbles something back at me.
"What was that?" Arno leans forward and whispers into my ear
"Tantrums leads to a spanked bottom daddy, and, and...", I can just
about hear the cogs turn in his little head "... and no desert". I
nearly laugh out loud. Desert was our code word. I hug him tightly
to me, and stroke his back. It was a warm summer day, and he was
only wearing shorts and a thin little t-shirt. I could feel Arno's
smooth, perfect skin through the thin material and felt my cock
stir. "Do you want desert, honey", I asked in a bit of a husky
voice. "Yes daddy", he whispers back, and his hand starts moving to
my crotch. Obviously I still had a lot to teach him about public
discretion. But first, follow the argument through to its
conclusion. "So...", I say, waiting for him to finish while taking
hold of his arm. "So..., that means we cannot buy another puppy" my
clever boy says. Just as I start to smile and nod, he adds "Today".

This time I do laugh out loud. While still holding him in a tight
hug, I straighten up. Now that my boy has got my cock started, and
told me he wanted desert, I needed to oblige. That was one of our
rules: If he asks for desert, I give it to him.

I think back to the first time we had desert, not even a year
before. I picked up Arno from tennis practice after school, and as
usual the boy was full of beans after his afternoon of running
around chasing balls. "Can we swim when we get home daddy?", he
asked. Seeing that I could smell his sweaty body all the way from
the front seat, I thought this was an excellent idea, so as soon as
we got home we raced to the back yard, our labrador Penelope
running loops around us. Yes, Penelope was a boy, yes it was a long
story how he got his name - suffice to say Arno insisted. As usual
when it was just us guys, we just stripped and jumped into the pool
naked. One of Arno's favourite games was to throw a pebble in the
deep end so that we could "race" to see who got it first.

Considering he'd really just learned how to hold his breath
properly under water, this "race" was pretty much me pretending to
drown while he repeatedly bopped for the sunken treasure. On this
particular day, my boy seemed to forget about holding his breath
and as soon as he jumped in after the pebble, he resurfaced
spluttering and floundering, having swallowed a bit of chlorinated
water. I fished him out, pretend-slapping his back and making all
the right noises. He seemed to have gotten quite a scare though,
and was holding on to me like a little monkey, while crying. It
took a while for the little guy to calm down, and in the meantime I
had carried him to a lounger where he was now sitting in my lap.

"You want some ice cream champ?" I asked, more as a way of
distraction than because I thought he needed a snack so close to
dinner. "No daddy", he blubbed, but I could clearly hear the crisis
was now over. "And you always say that we have desert after
dinner!", he said in a bit of an accusatory tone. That made me
smile, as he was clearly calling my bluff. "Well, I think we could
make an exception today..." I started to say when suddenly, with
not even a hint of being interested in my junk before, he leaned
forward and took my flacid cock in his hand. I froze! What the hell
was happening? What was worse was that I immediately, and I mean
immediately, got hard. The sudden change his touch had brought on
fascinated Arno and he gripped the shaft hard in his little fist.

"Wow daddy, what happened?", he asked. I really didn't know what to
say, and just sat frozen. Arno leaned in to have a closer look, and
god almighty, he pulled on my cock. Up and up, making my foreskin
pucker on top of my cock head as he pulled the loose skin closer to
him. What must have been the logical next step to him was to see if
the skin would also go the other way, so he pushed back, exposing
my red, shiny cock head. Up, down, up down, jesus he was starting
to wank me, and I wans't stopping him. Finally I found my voice,
and said "Darling, what are you doing?", to which he simply replied
"I'm playing dad". Duh. I placed my hand over his, with every
intention of stopping him, but he was like like a dog with a bone
(pun intended), and it was starting to feel so good. Before I knew
it I actually shot a load, straight onto his face. Man, it felt oh
so good, but the shame I felt immediately was oh so bad. Arno
looked up at me, cocksnot dripping down his cheeck, and actually
smiled. "Wow daddy you peed on me!" he squeeled. He looked back at
my deflating cock, and the little pool of cum that was now
collecting in my navel, and said with wonder, "but it looks like
melted ice cream!".I was just sitting there, horrified at what had
just happened, but my boy seemed to be delighted in his new
discovery. He bent his little head and lapped at the cum, clearly
expecting a sweet treat, and by the face he pulled I could see the
taste was not at all what he was expecting! "Did you like it
baby?", was my first words since coming down from that first
unexpected, awesome orgasm - so much for the tremendous guilt I was
feeling eh!? And to my surprise, he grinned and said: "It's like
salty desert." So that's where it all started...

Back to the present, I carry Arno out of the pet store, and
immediately turn right, bumping into a guy just walking in. "Sorry
man!" he immediately says, as he was looking down at his mobile
phone while making the turn.

"Hey no problem," I reply, stepping back to make room for him. This
guy looked vaguely familiar, but I only place him when Arno
excitedly says "Hello mister du Pont!" (only it sounded more like
mister Deep-Hont). It was a teacher he had at his school the
year before. Mr du Pont was a pudgy little fellow, and still had
some acne even though he must have been in his mid-twenties. His
lank, greasy blond hair was swept over his forehead, hanging over
heavy-lidded eyes.

"Arno my man!" he exclaims while reaching up to ruffle the boy's
hair. No wedding ring, I notice. Not that it means anything, but I
always seem to look for this in any man I meet, even if I find them
somewhat physically repulsive. "How are you doing? You are growing
up so quickly!" Of course Arno was revelling in the attention,
smiling from ear to ear. He shyly buries his head in my neck and
mumbles that he's fine. Somewhat awkwardly, with my boy's weight in
my arms, I extend my hand and shake Mr du Pont's proffered hand. A
bit limp. I smile and say "Well nice to see you, but we gotta run"
at the same time as he says, "Nice to see you Mr Reynolds". A bit
awkward, but at the moment I am in no mood for small talk. When Mr
du Pont smiles at Arno again, I suddenly become aware that my boy
has tucked his hand in between our bodies, and was clearly holding
on to his little dick. Interesting. So smiles all round, I carry
Arno out of the shop, and when I glance back I can see Mr du Pont
staring after us from the shop door. Very interesting.

The mall we are in is quite old, with many shops vacant, especially on the
third floor where we are. In the corner there are washrooms, and this is
where I head. There are only 3 stalls and a few urinals. The great thing
about this bathroom is that it has two doors one has to go through before
entering; giving plenty of warning if someone else was coming in. I knew
this from many previous experiences in my youth, in this same place.

Although the mall staff tended to look the other way, the glory holes
between the stalls were usually patched pretty quickly. But then, they were
re-opened on a regular basis too. As I enter, the familiar smells of a
public loo assail my nose. Stale piss, old shit, strong disinfectant over
it all. It makes my cock twitch again. I've never played with my little boy
in a public toilet, today would be a special day. Although well known as a
cruising toilet, today is my lucky day as none of the stalls or urinals are
occupied. I head to the stall in the furthest corner, and lock the door
after carrying Arno in. This is also the disabled stall, so plenty of room
to manoeuvre. I put my boy down on the closed toilet seat. He looks up at
me. This time his big eyes are not looking so innocent, in fact they are
positively wicked. He is smiling. "It's time for desert Arno", I whisper,
while motioning towards my crotch.

Arno's smile gets even bigger. "But daddy you said we should only
ever have special desert at home!". I am getting a little impatient
with this clever boy now. "Yes sweetheart, but you are a big boy
now and daddy knows you can keep our secrets, so it's okay".

Arno thinks this over for a bit, then nods. Without further ado, he
reaches for my belt and starts undoing it. I move closer to him, my
trousers, belt, and crotch all within easy reach now. I place my
left hand on his head and start stroking his hair. With my right
hand, I help him undo the belt and top button of my jeans. With
both hands he takes hold of the open flaps of the jeans and yank it
open, popping the buttons one by one. He knows this excites me. My
white briefs bulge out of my open fly, and I can't help but cup the
back of Arno's head and push his little face into the fabric.

"Smell it my boy", I whisper, slowly gyrating my crotch up and down
his face. My cock is straining against the fabric, and feeling his
small nose and lips next to it makes it even harder. I hear him
inhale deeply, and I ask him what he can smell.

"I smell your cock daddy". Oh fuck yeah. "It smells like the sea".
He means my cock smells like sweat and piss, but he doesn't have
the vocabulary yet. I can get a waft of it myself - I fucking love
unwashed adult cock smells and want to make sure my boy feels the
same once he's grown -- so I keep it nice and ripe for him. Arno
pushes his right hand under the elastic band of my briefs, and
suddenly I feel his little hand on my balls and then latching on to
my rockhard shaft. His fist just about circles my cock, and he
squeezes it gently. I pull back and look down, and his little head
follows my crotch, so that he is now bending forward on the toilet
seat. His little t-shirt has pulled up at the back and I can see
just the start of his smooth butt-crack disappearing into his
shorts. That is one of the most beautiful sites I've ever seen.

"Okay big man, time to get undressed", I say as I lift the boy onto
the seat so that he is standing, facing me. His head just about
reaches my nipples, and I bend forward and kiss him gently on the
lips. Again I cup his head, and lightly push his mouth onto mine.

His small, sweet lips open under my adult mouth and I stick my
tongue deep into his mouth. He suckles like a new-born lamb, making
me groan with lust. In the meantime I have pulled down his shorts,
and when I break the kiss I quickly pull the t-shirt over his head.

Before me stands a perfect little boy -- smooth, hairless alabaster
skin, with just a slight tan line where his little speedos covered
his crotch. His little cocklet is rigid, and points straight out
over two little pea-sized balls. My boy gets very excited! Seeing
his cock reminds me of our encounter with Mr du Pont. "Darling, did
Mr du Pont ever touch you down here?" I ask in a low voice while
pointing at his cock. Arno looks puzzled, and immediately shakes
his head with an accompanying "No daddy". I don't think he is lying
to me, so decide to let the matter rest. "Except when he had to put
the medicine on", he then adds.

Oh boy.

But now was not the time for me to pursue this. I quickly shuck of
my jeans and I move back towards Arno. I hug him to me, pressing
his whole body against mine. My cock rubs against his belly, and I
leave a clear trail of cocksnot over his smooth skin. Just the site
of it makes me want to blow, but I hold back. I lift the boy into
the air and plop him back on the toilet seat, and point my rigid
cock towards his little pouty lips. My cock is nearly purple now, so
much blood is pumping into it, and my pre-cum is making the flaring
head shiny. "Open up baby", I whisper, and immediately he obeys. I
push the head slowly into his mouth, marvelling at the site.

The big mushroom head disappears completely, stretching his lips
obscenely. Involuntarily I smile, thinking how fucking awesome my
life is. He latches on, and with both hands start to milk my cock.
He sucks like a professional now, the time spent training him was
worth it.

He keeps eye contact with me, just as I taught him, and I spit into
his face. He barely flinches. My spit lands on his left check, and
with my right thumb I wipe it towards his mouth. Arno slows down
fisting my cock but keeps my cockhead in his mouth as I also insert
my thumb, stretching his mouth even wider.

I pull out my digit and nod at him, and he goes back to work. I'm so horned
up, I know I'm not going to last long, but I want to taste his ass before
blowing. I pull my cock from his mouth and, quickly grabbing him under the
armpits, hoist him up and around so that he is standing with his back to
me.

"Bend", I say, and Arno doubles over at the waist while
simultaneously using his hands to pull apart his but cheeks. He
loves getting a tongue fucking from me, and I can see his puckered
little rosy hole opening up in anticipation. I don't fuck his ass
often, mostly because it needs a lot of preparation, but I waste no
time in diving my tongue into his hole. He giggles and nearly
topples over, and momentarily lets go of his right cheek to steady
himself against the wall. I love the musky taste of my little boy's
hole. Although I keep my cock and balls nice and ripe for him, I
still need to instil basic hygiene for my impressionable, growing
boy, so he had a shower only a short few hours before and the taste
is not too strong. Even though I would've preferred it. I swirl my
tongue over his rosebud, and push hard into the middle. With some
effort I slide about a third of my tongue in, and keep it there
while I furiously pump my cock. I can feel my orgasm building up
quickly, and I straighten up. With the taste of my 5 year-old boys
asshole in my mouth, and him obscenely holding open his ass for me
while bent over in a shit-smelling public toilet, I cum over his back,
his hole, and even shoot all the way into his hair. It feels like
my insides want to come out through my piss-slit, and I groan like
a rutting pig. My cum is running in little streams down Arno's
back, dripping over his asshole, along his smooth little taint and
onto the toilet seat. This sex in a public setting thing
was clearly working for me.

With shaking legs, I use some toilet paper to clean my boy, and for
whatever reason I leave the used bundle of paper on top of the cum
puddle on the toilet seat, for the next occupant to find. Time to
take my boy home for his nap.