Date: Sun, 9 Aug 2015 20:14:15 +0200
From: Zachyboy <z.blake@mail.com>
Subject: Doing Daddy's Laundry

DOING DADDY'S LAUNDRY
By Zachyboy
M/b, oral, anal, incest

The following story is a work of fiction, and even if you made a wish and
rubbed your penis for luck, it still wouldn't come true. It is, however, a
great way to take care of a load the next time you're stuck at the
laundromat. So, drop a few quarters in the slot here at the Nifty Archive
Alliance and let's get this baby agitating:

http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

Donate what you can, run it through the rinse cycle, and come out fresh and
clean on the other end.

Hi-Ho! On with the show.

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My son Rex is 12 and for the past couple of years now, he's been more than
a little bit hungry for cock in both of his sweet little holes, so I do
what I can to keep his spirits up whenever we go and take care of whatever
little itches come up in his mouth and his rump. Rexxy takes cock like a
champ, and I'm a good sport about giving him plenty of mine whenever the
request comes in, which is often and just about everywhere.

Case in point. We were at Disneyland this summer on day four of a seven day
pass, when I realized we weren't going to make it the rest of the week
without finding ourselves a laundromat in Anaheim and running a few of our
grungy clothes through the wringer. The suitcase was brimming with sweaty
t-shirts and smelly underdrawers, some of them were mine, male and musky,
and some of them were Rexxy's...sour, sweet and skiddy.

As luck would have it, there was a Welcome Wash not two blocks from our
hotel on Katella, so we threw our two suitcases in the back seat of the car
– my big Samsonite and Rexxy's little Star Wars rollerboard, and we were
over there in a flash. We unloaded our dirty clothes in a big metal roller
cart and I gave Rexxy a twenty for the change machine while I rolled down
the aisles looking for two concurrent machines without an "out of order"
sign taped across the coin slot in Sharpie and cardboard. Not an easy task.

Finding a couple near the bathroom at the far end of the laundromat, I
proceeded to sort light from dark and throw them in the drums while Rexxy
came back with his cupped palms full of quarters, which he quickly mptied
on the changing table next to our machines. It was early in the morning and
we had the place to ourselves, except for one snooty-looking grandmotherly
woman on the far end of the laundry, just putting three small loads into
the jumbo dryers.

"Can I have a Twix, Daddy?" Rexxy pouted, knowing he was asking me to break
the breakfast rule, but equally sure I'd let him transgress if he gave me
the right doe eyes. Funny how you'll feed your kid your own cock since he's
ten, but you'll still frown on giving him a candy bar until he's had his
eggs and sausage in the morning. There's some dietary irony for you, huh?

"Sure, baby," I sighed. "But we need to get some protein in you this
morning as soon as we can."

He giggled and looked down at my cock. "Okay, Daddy. I like getting protein
in me."

My cock grew about two inches on the promising strength of his
flirtatiousness alone.

"Help me sort clothes," I told him, and his little hands dug into the metal
roller cart and came out with a pair of my boxer briefs, which he held to
his nose, breathed in deeply and sighed.

"Mmmm," he smiled, smelling my undie funk. "I like your undies, Daddy. They
always smell like man cock, really strong."

His little hand went down to rub his cock while he sniffed and huffed my
yesterday's work. I felt pre-cum bubble in the tip of my mushroom watching
my son rub himself quietly, huffing in my man musk from a day-old pair of
my Fruit of the Looms. How many times have I seen him do that very same
thing at home, at the laundry hamper, huffing my ball-stink as he jacked
himself off behind a slightly-closed door? I don't know. A million?

"Okay, Tiger," I warned him quietly. "Better cool it off a little."

Dryer granny on the other end of the room was looking up at us in a
combination of puzzlement and mild distaste. She probably was unaccustomed
to spotting a pre-pubescent undie sniffer at twenty paces at nine in the
morning, so with disappointment in his eyes, Rexxy took my undies from his
nose and tossed them in the washer.

"Awww, Daddy," he whispered quietly, with the the same crushed and innocent
doe eyes that make my cock leak every time he bats them my way, "I like
sniffing your cock smell, Daddy. It makes my boner get hard and
tickly. Hi-Ho!"

I smiled at his "Hi-Ho," a recent verbal affectation – Lord only knows
where he picked it up – but he says it all the time now and it never
fails to make me smile.

He jutted his little cock out at me, and sure enough, it was a little
dicklet-and-a-half now, poking out through the fabric of his shorts,
straining to beat fifty bands.

"Go get your Twix, baby," I told him as I continued sorting the lights from
the darks. "We'll take care of that little monster later, back in the hotel
room."

He giggled and scampered off – literally scampered off in a mock
feminism just-for-show that drove me over the moon with lust – to the
candy machine, a handful of quarters clutched in his tiny palm to make his
selection. I moaned quietly in admiration of his fine little bubble butt –
an ass I've been penetrating with my cock since Rexxy turned 10. I'd bred
more seed in that beauty than I care to count, and it was always open for
additional business; perky, musky, oven-hot, and oh-so-inviting.

I finished the sort and stopped quickly to admire a pair of Rexxy's white
boy briefs, made considerably less white from our fuck last night where
Rexxy hopped on my cock and pretended he was riding Space Mountain – and
believe me, he took us all around the hills and valleys on that
motherfucking ride. I checked out the crotch of his boy panties and casting
a casual glance upward for dryer granny's watchful eye, gave them a hardy
sniff in spite of myself. They smelled like sweet french dressing and
butternut squash, two of the scents that were magically Rexxy.

It was a shame to wash them, actually. On a typical day when we travel,
Rexxy's briefs are a delicious combination of chocolate-vanilla swirls from
his own natural back door paint and the crusty white of my sticky glazed
semen which is forever bubbling out of his hole and running into the ass
fabric. It's a shame to wash away such combined artistry with liquid Tide
and color-safe bleach, but such is life.

Rexxy came back with a shiny gold-brown Twix package, shucked the wrapper,
and pulled out one of the chocolate cookie sticks which he began to fellate
with reckless abandon. Dryer granny looked up from across the room and
cleared her throat in distaste as she watched my 12-year-old give head to
his candy bar.

Rexxy giggled and pointed at my growing cock. "I'd rather suck yours,
Daddy," he smiled innocently. "Yours is way sweeter and has milk at the
end."

I groaned as I shut the washing machine lids and lined up the quarters in
the slots, one through eight. Christ, it was expensive to do a load of
laundry now. I didn't know what I wanted to do more, fuck my son, or write
a complaint letter to the management.

Rexxy made my decision for me.

"I'm thirsty for milk, Daddy," Rexxy said coquettishly. "Can I have some
milk to wash down my candy bar?"

"Oh, I'll give you some milk," I growled under my breath, sizing up the
surroundings and letting my eyes settle on the bathroom about ten feet
away. Would it be possible to breed my son in a laundromat bathroom without
tipping our hand to dryer granny? My common sense said no, but my cock said
what the fuck, go for it.

"My butt itches, Daddy," Rexxy whimpered, still fellating his Twix
stick. "I think I need you to itch it for me."

Dryer granny was looking down at her paperback garage-sale Harlequin, so I
took the opportunity to quickly run my hand down the back of Rexxy's
loose-fitting shorts, down past his undies, and extending my index finger,
ran it all the way, bottom-to-top, up his sweaty little slit, making
rosebud to fingerpad contact with his sticky little starfish, pushing in
slightly, and shivering in spite of myself as I heard Rexxy eliciting a
long sigh and an immediate pushback from his hungry little rump. That sweet
little thing wanted to eat anything you pushed against it. Finger, tongue,
cock. Didn't matter. Touch it with something and Rexxy wanted it
inside. Hard. Fast.

"Oh yes, Daddy," he sighed. "That's where the itch is. Itch it good for
me."

"Scratch it, baby," I corrected him quietly. "Scratch it good."

"Itch it AND scratch it, Daddy," Rexxy insisted persistently. "Do it both
ways."

Dryer granny looked up and I quickly removed my hand. I brought my finger
to my nose and nearly died from the pleasure. While Rexxy sucked on his
Twix, I sucked on my finger, my dick now ready to burst from the seams. His
sweet little ass taste drove me out of my mind. Like chocolate-covered
almonds and dandelion stems. Salty, bitter and fuckably sweet.

"Do you want to go in the bathroom with me, baby, so I can scratch it
deeper?" I asked him.

"Hi-Ho, Daddy," he whispered breathlessly with hunger in his eyes. "Hi-Ho."

Kerchunking the quarters and starting the wash loads, I led Rexxy by the
hand to the laundromat bathroom and closed and locked the door. Lining him
up face-first toward the sink, I let him look at himself in the mirror
while I kneeled down on the dirty floor, not giving a shit what I was
kneeling in – dirt, water, stale piss, who cares – and lowered his
shorts and undies to his ankles so his perfect ass could spring into
view...like two white melons of lust and life.

I spread it immediately with my two thick thumbs and shivered at the
recoil. The musky smell was hot an instantaneous. My mere touch had him
pushing it back eagerly against my face – against my nose, against my
mouth – eager to be smelled, enjoyed and eaten. My tongue was lapping at
him immediately. He squealed and whimpered like a lost puppy dog, rammed
his ass back against my mouth and reached around to stroke his own little
cocklet.

"Uh-uh," I mumbled, slapping his hand away. "Mine comes first. You get
yours later."

He whimpered and whined, but obeyed my command. A boy needs to learn that
his daddy calls the shots.

"Good boy, Rexxy," I told him for waiting. "Daddy cums first."

I ate his ass like a starving felon.

I saw a gold wrapper flash in the corner of my eye. Rexxy reached around
and his crinkly Twix wrapper brushed against my face.

"Here," he grunted. "There's one left, Daddy. Fuck me with it hard."

I moaned and removed the chocolate stick. I sucked it quickly to wet it
down, then with one slow push, placed it against his rosebud entrance and
pressed it slowly forward, watching it disappear up his tiny, grasping
butthole.

"Unngh," he grunted quietly as I plunged his boy cunt with chocolate,
caramel and cookie center. "Fuck me, Daddy. Unggh. Fuck it in."

In and out I maneuvered the Twix, fucking my son with a vending machine
candy bar as he bent over a bathroom sink until gushy and melted, he
expelled it back out where gritty chunks of it fell with a plop on the
laundry room floor.

I dove back in and ate the melted chocolate from his quivering pooper. I
could taste chocolate and flakes of tiny, crunchy cookie.

"Oh, Daddy," he whimpered. "Do I taste good, Daddy? Does my ass taste like
a candy bar?"

I would have said a few grateful words in caramel-happy agreement but I was
too busy tongue painting his tasty little gash with ten coats of saliva. I
unbuckled my own shorts, pushed them down past my knees and stood up, my
cock rock-hard and on fire, eager to mount my little chocolate butt slut.

"Are you ready for Daddy to fuck you, baby?" I asked him
breathlessly. "Daddy wants to fuck you really hard today. Can you take it
hard?"

"Oh yes, Daddy," he moaned. "Fuck my chocolate hiney. Do it a good one."

I bent him over the sink again, lining him up at the right angle, and with
barely a need for tippy-toes, I pressed my cock head against the now-wet
button of his sticky chocolate fuck knot, and pressed forward firmly,
watching my dick plunge into chocolate, spit and sphincter.

"Nnnnn-eeeeeeeee!" he grunted as my cock shaft slid into him. "Oh fuck, oh
owie, oh fuck, oh owie!!!!"

I didn't mind his complaints, nor did they slow me down any. I was used to
Rexxy's grunts and ministrations as I gave him the business end of my
none-too-polite breed-stick. It was nothing I hadn't heard before.

My dick inserted, his shoulders slumped in sweet relief, as I began the
hard in-and-out rutting of putting my babies up his cunt. I felt gritty
specks of crushed cookie pieces as I fucked him. The grittiness just made
the fuck all-the-more nasty and exciting to me.

"Oh, yes, Daddy," he groaned and wiggled. "Cum your cock up my ass. Sperm
me with your fuck cock. Make it have lots of milk inside me."

I grabbed his skinny hips and fucked him harder against the laundromat sink
for his dirty talk.

"Is that better, baby?" I asked him through husky panting. "Do you like
this fuck, baby? Is Daddy making the itch go away?"

"Oh yes, Daddy," he grunted. "Itch me harder. Itch me till you fuck the
milk inside me."

I picked up my pace and really long-dicked it into him. I wasn't kind. I
was rough, but he could take it.

He grunted and pushed back. Made little "ungh, ungh," sounds with the
rhythm of my thrusting.

There was a tap at the door.

"Is everything all right in there?"

It was dryer granny. The old bag had apparently come over for in
investigation.

"Just fine ma'am," I grunted through the locked door. "My son's a little
constipated, that's all. I'm giving him something to work it out right now,
as a matter of fact."

Rexxy giggled.

I heard her harrumph in disgust and walk away. I picked up my pace, not
particularly needing Child Protective Services to show up and find me
impregnating my son's hinder over the sink of the Welcome Wash thanks to
dryer-biddy's tip off.

"Fuck me, Daddy," Rexxy whispered. "Sperm it in my butthole! Sperm it in me
hard!!"

I grasped his hips and punched all seven-inches of dick right up his
shitter.

"NNNNGGGGH!!!!!" I grunted as my cumload blew out of my balls and straight
up his gritty sweet boytube.

"EEEEEEEE," he grunted back. "Oh fuck, oh fuck your hot sperm! Hi-Ho! Oh
fuck me, Daddy. Oh fuck, I feel your sperm milk!"

He spewed out his nonsense-talk and ground his little ass back against me,
gyrating and squeezing his butt muscles, hungry for every drop. My semen
pumped up his bowels like frosting out of a cake tube. I twitched and
shivered, still grabbing his little hips hard enough to leave finger marks
on his red, creamy skin and a seven-inch ache up his epileptic boyhole.

He scooted forward and my cock plopped out instantly, a mess of cum and
chocolate and cookie-gritty pieces. Immediately, he was on his knees,
sucking off the chocolatey-messy-gritty-cummy mess. Candy bar and man
sperm. Cookie chunks and ass paste. Rexxy ate it all until I was squeaky
clean again.

"Mmmm," he moaned. "Gonna eat it all up. I'm gonna eat you all up daddy."

He gulped and swallowed then whimpered at his own rock hard babystick.

"Suck me, Daddy. Please?" he begged.

I propped his little body up on the sink and kneeling down, sucked his
little bone inside my mouth and savored his pissy, maple little boy-taste,
just barely starting to sparkle with the upcoming hints of 12-year-old
crotch musk. Rexxy was still at that age where he was heavy on the maple,
light on the pheromones, but I engulfed it all greedily and sucked him to
the brink.

He hopped off the sink and took his cock in his own little hand. I kneeled
down, knowing what he wanted from me.

"Gonna cum on your face, Daddy," he whispered and grunted. "Open your
mouth, Daddy. Here it comes!! You eat my juice right now, Daddy!!!"

I opened wide and wished on a star and...

"EEEEEEEEEEE!" he squealed like a stuck little piggy as his dick twitched
and jumped and a silver-clear jet of little boy corn syrup shot from his
cock tip landed on the groove under my nose. Then another clear drop on my
lower lip. Then a tiny third drop, like sweet drizzling boy magic,
untainted by manly-rich thick-cum – just the tender first squirts of
sweet, sugary boy nectar. How I loved that innocent starter-flavor as I
licked my lips and gratefully gobbled it down.

"Good boy, Rexxy, good boy," I reassured him as I took his pulsing little
cock back into my mouth and cleaned it all up, faint traces of sugar water
in his spermless thin semen. I stood him up and pulled up his shorts,
running one more finger across his sticky sweet crack before I did, and
enjoying the flavor of candy bar and cock, sugar and sperm, and vowing in
my mind to fuck the rest of that dollar-twenty-five candy bar out of him –
root it out fully and deeply – as soon as we got back to the hotel. A
Rexxy fuck with a crunchy cookie center.

When I peered out of the bathroom door for a safety check, dryer granny had
apparently had enough of our antics. Her clothes were gone and so was she,
apparently off to greener and less sexually-noisy pastures. Our humping and
grunting apparently spooked the old gal off.

"Coast is clear, kiddo," I smiled at my son.

"Hi-Ho, Daddy," he giggled as he hugged me around the waist. I hoisted him
up in my arms and he threw his legs around my middle in a scissor lock,
wrapped his arms around my neck and french kissed me greedily, his little
tongue poking into my mouth and wrestling with my own.

"You taste like candy bar, Daddy," he giggled. "Candy bar and butthole."

I squeezed his ass and shivered when he nibbled and nipped on my lower lip.

"Let's finish these loads, baby," I whispered in his ear. "Then I'll take
you back to the hotel room and give you another few loads of my own."

"But Daddy," he pouted. "What about Disneyland? I want to ride Space
Mountain again!"

"Not until you ride me first," I growled at him playfully, giving his
perfect boy melons another firm squeeze. I couldn't wait to get him to the
park all day, get him good and hot and sweaty and ripe, then bring him back
to the hotel room at night and slowly, lavishly soothe his sore leg muscles
with a gentle massage before I licked the sweet day's worth of musk melon
tracks out of his sweet little boy gash.

Rexxy giggled and pressed his little hard dicklet against my tummy. Already
hard again, ready and insatiable. He's a good boy, my Rexxy. He always
knows what Daddy needs, and he bends over backwards, and sometimes
forwards, to give it to me.

It wouldn't be the last time I did a couple of loads with my son in Anaheim
during that trip. We'll be back later to tell you more about it. In the
meantime, it's time to put the clothes in the dryer, and Disneyland awaits
us.

So, hi-ho, all you daddies and sons out there. There's nothing better than
doing your laundry and sharing a handful of quarters and a vending machine
candy bar with your dirty little boy. Fill up his drum and run him through
a firm and well-needed second rinse cycle. You'll be glad you did.

He'll come out clean and fresh in...

THE END.

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Rexxy and his daddy first appeared in
http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/riding-daddys-roller-coaster

Rexxy also gets up to some dirty little boy-on-boy hijinks in
http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/practice-on-patrick

and most recently he came back for a neighborhood encore in
http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/peter-peter-butthole-eater

What I'm saying is, he's out there, folks. And you're gonna want to save
your quarters, definitely.

He's a dirty little boy.

Hi-Ho!

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Love,
Zach
z.blake@mail.com

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