Date: Fri, 30 Sep 2016 21:56:27 +0200 (CEST)
From: z.blake@tutanota.com
Subject: Dry Humps and Tippy Toes (Revision)

DRY HUMPS AND TIPPY TOES
By Zachyboy
M/b, fingering, oral, anal

This story is a work of fiction and involves sexual situations between an
adult man and an underage boy. If reading such material offends you, or if
it's illegal where you live, kindly make your exit before Plot Point-A
slips its erect and manly enthusiasm into into Plot Point-B. Because we all
know that's where it's ulimately going.

Meanwhile, Nifty could use your help keeping the lights on and the bills
paid.

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

A bit of history: This story originally appeared on Nifty in November 2015
under my now-defunct pen name Jared Dreamer. When it first appeared, it was
titled simply "Tippy Toes." I was never quite happy with how it turned out
and felt it was rather a rush job. So, for it's reanimation here (thank
you, Nifty archivist), I've added considerably to its sex scenes, dialogue
and backstory, and now I'm quite a bit happier with it.

Thanks to all of you who wrote me nice stuff when the Jared Dreamer stories
first appeared. I hope you enjoy the expansions and revisions. And thanks
again to Nifty for allowing me to reatrribute them and move them over here
to the general Zachyboy catalog for safe keeping.

It goes without saying, read and jack off, relieve the pressure valve, but
for God's sake, please leave real-life boys alone. What we do here is all
pretend, and it should stay that way.

On with the show.

# # # # # # # # # # # # # # #

My nephew Kody was about nine-years-old when he started staying over at my
house so my hard-working sister could catch a break, and I was happy to
have him. He was always such a tactile boy and physically exploratory and
affectionate from the get-go, I guess my sexual attraction to him started
from the very first time he stayed over.

He was never a modest boy, never shy about walking around my apartment
naked, and never thought twice about taking a bath at my house. In fact, I
kept a plastic beach bucket of Hot Wheels cars and plastic scuba divers and
boats and other tub toys under the sink.

It wasn't unusual at all for him to stay over at my place on a Friday or
Saturday night, or the whole weekend for that matter, and spend a leisurely
hour splashing and playing in the tub, getting water all over my bathroom
floor and turning his fingers and toes into pink, squeaky-clean boy prunes.

"Look at my wiener, Uncle D!" he'd giggle, flashing it at me. "Damien
across the street says wieners are for doing sexes in people. He's four
years older than me, so he's big and he knows."

God bless Damien, whoever that kid was.

Kody jutted his wiener out and made kissy lips at me. The tip of his boy
toy was shiny. The glans was absolutely edible.

"Wanna do sexes with it?" he giggled.

Yeah, I thought. You better be careful, kiddo. You keep waving that pink,
perfect, tasty-looking little cocklet at my faces, and I'll open wide and
show you some "sexes" like Damien never dreamed of, likely with a wet
finger up your little butt.

But I restrained. "Be the adult in the room, David," I kept telling myself,
even though his penis had me agitated beyond pre-cum. Beyond
erection. "Take a deep breath. Be the adult in the room."

Whoof. Kody at 9.

>From the very beginning, he had the cutest, skinniest, most perfectly-cut
little cocklet, perkiest little boy bottom and sweetest little sack of
balls you could ever hope to imagine. And he was constantly displaying
them. Constantly teasing me with them.

"Lick it, Uncle D!" he'd giggle. "Damey says guys are supposed to lick each
other's cock-wieners. "Cuz that's what makes 'em grow big."

Mine was big already, and threatening to burst out of my pants like the
latest Space X flight.

"Mmm-hmm," I nodded appreciatively. "Damey's not far from wrong."

Kody nodded, all bright eyes and smiles.

"We suck and touch and do stuff," he said. "He says mine tastes like
candy."

I moaned inside.

"His tastes like sweat and basketball."

I moaned inside again. Twice, maybe three times.

It turns out Damien was the older kid across the street who had taken my
nephew under his wing. And into his lap. And into his mouth. And god bless
the horny motherfucker, he had my full appreciation and thumbs-up. I love
it when older kids teach younger kids their sex tricks. I wanted to send
the filthy little fucker a fruit basket to say thank you.

I tried to resist Kody's seemingly-unending talk of Damey and sexual
silliness at first. I think any uncle's starting point is proper decorum,
if not for noble reasons, then at least for the general avoidance of
incarceration. When your underage nephew keeps wagging his hard little
cocklet at you unsolicited, believe me, you appreciate it, but you sort of
want to err on the side of avoiding a cell with Bubba the second-degree
ass-raper.

But fuck it. As so often happens, in for a penny, in for a pound. Kody was
not to be swayed from his goal. Which was apparently getting off with me,
Uncle D.

That first weekend he started wagging his little 9-year-old dicklet at me,
he also started dry humping my leg in bed at night. I think I'd even fallen
soundly asleep the first time he did it.

Jesus, not only did he latch onto me bare-ass naked (where did his undies
go?), he actually wrapped his little legs around mine like a koala riding
its mother.

I woke to feel his little erection dry humping my flesh, awkwardly, almost
questioningly at first, but when I reached down to cup the perfect handfuls
of his bottom, pulling him against me to let him know it was okay, he let
out a sigh of pent-up relief and instantly began grinding it against me so
demandingly, it felt like he wanted to intentionially leave marks.

"I'm gonna rub it, Uncle D," he whispered. "Damey says guys should rub
cock-wieners as much as they can."

"Okay," I whispered simply, aroused and participating. "Rub it all you need
to, buddy."

I cupped his cheeks and pulled his boner tighter against my leg, then
kissed the night sweat on his forehead and helped him hot-hump against
me. He found his pattern and didn't deviate.

"This is how people make sexes," he whispered. "I'm making sexes on your
leg."

I watched him bite his lower lip and heard him make little peeping
whimpering sounds as he rubbed back and forth in the same spot over and
over again so persistently and urgently, I imagined him leaving behind a
permanent indentation behind; a kid-sized gutter. Ridiculously, a bowling
alley lane came to mind.

I squeezed his hot little bottom while he leg-fucked me with his three-inch
dickie groove, as if he were trying to score my very skin.

"It gets tickly pretty soon," he whispered. "My cock-wiener blows out its
tickles."

"I know," I told him.

"Damey calls 'em gore gasms," he grunted, still dry-humping.

"I know," I whispered, squeezing his butt cheeks. "Go for it buddy. Have
yourself a gore gasm."

I took one of my hands off his ass, put a finger up to my mouth, sucked it
wet, and dropped it back down to his cheeks. I quickly burrowed it into the
heat of his crack and felt it press against his little starfish.

"Hey," he giggled, still dry humping. "That's my parking garage."

"Yeah?" I asked him quietly. "Does somebody want to park in there?"

He nodded. "Damey wants to park his wiener in it. He says he has to park it
in far."

I nodded back and kissed his forehead.

"I'm going to park my finger in it a little," I told him.

"Okay," he said, and he hugged me closer, rutting against my leg while I
slipped into his tight rectum to the first knuckle.

"Oh!" he peeped. "Oh! It went in. It parked!"

His little tube nipped at my finger, but he didn't stop rubbing.

"Oh! Oh!" he gasped as he dry-humped while I fingered him.

One knuckle. Two. And then he was shuddering. "Ow! OOH! Park it harder!"

I pushed in further.

"Nnnngh! Ohhhhhh!" he siezed and froze up, dry-twitching, breathing heavy.

"Did that feel good?" I asked gently, removing my finger and bringing it to
my nose to enjoy the scent of his boy musk. Only "musk" is the wrong word
when you're describing what a boy's sex hole smells like. Kody wasn't old
enough to have his insides smell like "musk," per se. His rectum traces
smelled like Frosted Flakes and butternut squash. Cloying, sweet and
sex-stink musky, but not grown-up musky. It was little boy sex musk, which
is sweeter, simpler, tangier, innocent. It's not grown-up fuck-smell. It's
boy-simple rectal-sugar. New, and full of possibility.

"That was good," he sighed. "My sexes tickled out on your leg."

"Good boy," I whispered to him. "Get some sleep now."

He rolled over, sighed, spooned up against me, and as soon as I knew he was
snoring, I quietly masturbated against the sweet-smelly crook of his crack
and the curve of his spine and I shot my semen all over his warm and
babysoft goosebumpy boy body. He never even stirred.

"I'm gonna fuck you someday," I whispered in his sleeping ear. "Just like
Damey wants to. I'm gonna fuck you deep and good, Kody."

# # # # # # # # # # # # # # #

Kody's dry-humping continued for several months, with very little
variation. He rubbed and dry humped against my leg. I fingered him and
smelled and licked his boy scent and boy flavor. After he slept, I jacked
off against him and came. His ass crack was dried vanilla-semen frosting
glaze every morning.

It wasn't until three months later when he just turned 10 that the real fun
began.

Dry-humping turned into tippy toes.

Why?

Hard to chart it, really.

Self-preservation and that cell with Bubba aside, a man's only human, and I
felt a bigger and bigger lump growing in my sweat pants and under my undies
every time he came out of the bathtub, dripping wet and towel wrapped
around his shoulders, asking me to help him dry off and so clearly flirting
with me, wanting to ratchet things up a level.

He started playing a game with me called tippy-toes. Slippery little fish
that he was, he'd come out into the living room where I was watching TV,
naked as the day is long, and he'd stand before me with his towel, right
between my legs, pink skin glistening, looking up at me with those
sparkling brown eyes and a smile on his face, asking me to dry him off.

Well, I certainly did. TV was quickly forgotten as I drank in the pleasant
sight of him, wet and shiny, his thumb-length cock looking sweet and
suckable. I began by drying his shoulders, then his skinny little arms
which he extended to me, then his adorably slender chicken legs, then his
ribby little chest, then his back and shoulders and then down backwards to
the sexy twin pillows of his creamy white boy globes.

As I ran the towel up the length of his butt crack to catch the water
droplets in-between now scented with his not-too-scrubbed anal flavor, he
quickly tensed and raised way up on his tippy-toes the minute the towel or
my fingers made contact with his rosebud.

"Hey!" he giggled. "You just goosed my parking garage! You want to put your
sexes in there! You want to park your cock-wiener!"

I tried to refrain from answering that directly.

"Maybe see if there's a parking spot for me," I smiled back, and gave it
another good pass with the towel for good measure. And then, feeling
emboldened, and gave it another pass with my finger. Firmly against his sex
button. It felt slippery, taky and wet.

The minute I did, up he went again on his toes, back arched, crotch jutting
forward so close he was almost rubbing his dickie on my stomach, and a look
of sheer delight in his eyes.

"Tippy-toes," he giggled. "You made my feet do tippy-toes!"

"You like that?" I asked him.

"Naughty," he smiled. "What we're doing is naughty. Damey says I can never
tell."

I nodded.

"That's the F-Word with your finger," he smiled. "You F me with your finger
at night."

I nodded again.

"Naughty," he grinned.

"I like doing naughty stuff with you Kody. It makes us feel good, right?"

Kody did answer, just giggled again, and scampered off into the bedroom to
change, leaving me with that deliciously-enticing anal musk on my finger
again. I smelled it and dreamed again of fucking him.

But outside of the lump of hard cock growing in my pants, that seemed to be
the end of that intriguing line of conversation for the night. That night,
he dry humped as usual and accepted my finger with well-accustomed
normality, but offered me no further entrance points.

But that was soon to change and progress.

Lust is an exponential thing. Give a boy oppportunity long enough and
things progress whether you intend them to or not.

The next time he stayed overnight and bathed at my house, he did the exact
same thing. He came out to be dried, and requested the towel in the crack
treatment right off the bat.

"Do tippy-toes again," he begged me, not that much begging was required. I
was happy to oblige. And sure enough, when the towel swiped across his
clean slippery crack, up he shot like a rocket, same arched back, same hot
cocklet jutting forward, same strained tippy-toes stretching for the sky.

My sister was out of town at an old high school friend's wedding, and I had
babysitting duty all weekend. Kody would be at my house from Friday night
until Monday morning, when I dropped him off at school.

He nuzzled his neck down into my shoulder, smelling fresh and sweet like
watermelon kids shampoo and he whispered in my ear – not spoke, but
whispered in a soft little puff of air that sent goosebumps up my arms,
"Tippy-toe me, Uncle D. But do it a little harder. You know. Like you want
to put some sexes in me."

I dried him him off a little harder, a little more demandingly between the
crack, but he didn't rise up as he usually did. Instead he leaned in close
to me again and whispered, "Not with the towel. With your finger this
time. Tippy-toe me with your finger. Like your finger wants to F me."

My heart skipped two beats, stunned by his directness.

"Stick it in. Tippy-toe me," he said firmly, and I could see he meant
business. He took my forefinger in his hand, sucked it quickly and got it
covered with his own spit, reached it around his back and put it near the
crack of his wet butt cheeks, radiating heat. "Tippy-toe me right in
here. Right in my parking garage."

I looked down and noticed his cock was rock hard...an upright angry stalk,
red and twitching and pointing up toward my face like an arrow.

He didn't have to ask me twice. I had a naked 10-year-old boy in front of
me hard as a rock, and hugging him closer to me and reaching my hand down
from the top, I slowly fingered his crack from the bottom up until I got to
his super tight hole, and I slipped my fingertip just a half an inch
inside.

Immediately he rose up on his tippy-toes and sighed simultaneously.

"Yes," he whispered. "Farther. Tippy-toe me deeper. Like you do it in my
butt at night in bed. Like when you finger me and squirt the juice all over
my crack."

"Do you like my juice in your crack?"

"I like it. It's slimy and gooey and hot."

I wiggled my finger a little and immediately felt something squishy and
greasy and familiar.

"Kody, is that – "

"Vaseline," he whispered. "I put some in my hole so you can tippy-toe me
really far. Damey used it to make sexes in me."

I was surprised. "Does Damey put his cock in you?"

"Shhh," he said, dismissing me. "Tippy toe me, Uncle D. That's it. Park it
in deeper."

He started wiggling back on my fingertip, as if his anus was actually
nipping at my finger, trying to suck more inside of him.

Beyond the point of stopping, I pushed forward and my finger instantly slid
past sphincter number one, paused briefly at the gateway of sphincter
number two, then breached the inner ring too and slid last-knuckle deep
right up into his squelching hot rectum. The farthest I'd ever fingered
him, ever. All the way in.

And that time he did go up on his tippy-toes. Lord, did he go up.

"Oh, Uncle D. Yessssssssss," he hissed.

His 10-year-old cocklet was hard as a rocket, his back arched like a cat in
heat, and up he went, nearly three more inches off the ground. His heels
went airborn, his naked toes strained to take him clear off the floor. I
crooked my finger and lifted, almost has if I were trying to pull him into
the air on the strength of my finger alone.

"Oh yes," he whispered. "I need some sexes in me, Uncle D. Like Damey
does. Tippy-toe me some more. Then put your cock-wiener up my butt. Put it
up my parking garage."

We stood there, the towel long-since dropped on the floor and forgotten, me
with my Vaseline smeared finger sliding in and out of his ass, deep enough
to feel the little raised walnut bump of his prostate while he writhed and
hissed once or twice when I push-wince sodomized him.

He ground back against me and nuzzled into my neck as I watched his little
thumb-sized cock twitch and jerk, admired his dime-sized nipples and
enjoyed the wet warmth of his body pressed into mine. I could smell his
ass, and his sweet bubble gum toothpaste breath breathing into my neck.

And then suddenly we were kissing...not chaste uncle-nephew pecks, but
sweet, open mouthed, tongue-turning kisses. I had no idea who started them,
me or him...nor did I have any idea how he learned to do it so well, (the
unseen, mythical Damey, I suppose), but there I was, kissing my nephew in
full French force, sweetly gobbling at his lips and tongue while he pressed
his dick against me and ground his squenching asshole around the length of
my finger, still going up on his tippy-toes every time I pushed it forward
with a new, deep insertion.

"Do some sexes on my wiener," he whispered. "Rub my wiener up and
down. Please, Uncle D. Do it."

I took his hard mini-pole between my thumb and forefinger and began slowly
tugging it up and down toward his still-hairless pubis. He instantly
responded by bucking slowly in my pinch-grasp, finding a rhythm and helping
me maneuver him into the bliss he was so clearly seeking.

His breathing got heavy and he made little grunts as he stood there between
my legs, nuzzling and kissing me while I finger fucked him with one hand
and jacked his twitching 10-year-old babystick with the other. His dicklet
was throbbing and ready to cum.

"Oh wow! Oh wow!" he shivered suddenly, and then he rammed himself forward
into my chest, his throbbing penis twitching in a dry cum, and the same
time, pushing back so far against my ass-embedded finger, I feared he'd
snap it off. I smelled his cloying honey-musk in the air. 10-year-old boy
ass in heat.

"STOP!" he shivered. "It tickles! STOP, Uncle D!" And he almost immediately
dislodged himself from my anchor. He pulled his cock out from between my
fingertips first, then scooted forward so my other finger left his hot
sugar-tunnel with an almost audible, ass-sucking plop.

"Tippy-toes," he whispered breathlessly. "Oh wow, Uncle D. That was the
deepest parking tippy-toes ever. That was a really good F-word in me."

He walked off in a daze, almost stumbling, to dress in his pajamas, leaving
me with a boner the size of Texas and a pre-cum stain visible through my
sweats you could see from the other side of the room. I was hoping for
reciprocation. I was hoping for relief. The fact that he simply wandered
off left me confused. Frustrated. Breathing heavy. Confounded.

I thought of retreating to the bathroom immediately to jack off. I needed
to blast about three tablespoons of cum into the sink, standing on MY
tippy-toes. But he was back almost instantly, sleep sweat and t-shirt on,
snuggling up next to me on the couch.

"Wanna see all the other stuff Damey taught me?" he asked with a teasing,
promising twinkle in his eye.

Apparently he just needed a costume change and moment to regroup, thank
God. Apparently my blue balls were in for a second round.

"Uh-huh," is all I could utter, my dry-mouth taking over my ability to
speak.

"It's more sexes stuff than we've ever done before," he said solemly. "It's
gonna be pretty naughty, I think. Is that okay?"

I quickly nodded.

"I won't get in trouble?"

He looked so sweet. So sincere.

"I promise," I told him. "You won't get in trouble."

He paused for a second, unsure.

I took his face in my hand and kissed his nose. Looked him right in the
eye. He relaxed.

"It's okay," I told him sincerely. "You can show me, Kody. You won't get in
trouble, I promise. What else did Damey teach you?"

"This part," he giggled, and immediately was pawing on my sweats and
undies, trying to take them down.

"Oh Kody, oh God," I uttered as he tugged at my clothes.

The minute his hot hands with those sweet slender fingers started tugging
on my waistband, my back arched up off the couch helping him pull them off
so quickly it was almost comical.

My hard cock literally went "boing" as it snapped out of my underwear and
practically flipped a snail trail of pre-cum down the couch, I was leaking
so much sticky stuff.

"Wow," he whispered. "Yours is way bigger than Damey's."

I nodded.

He looked up at me.

"I'm gonna suck it, Uncle D. In my mouth like I do Damey's, okay?"

"Okay," I nodded eagerly.

I put my hand to his head and applied downward pressure. Gave it just a
tiny push and he knew exactly what that meant. No more direction needed to
be given. He immediately lowered his head into my waiting dickhead and
opened wide and engulfed me in one smooth move.

The heat of his sexy hot mouth around my cock was sudden, enormous and
exquisite. I'd wanted this for months now. Months of jacking off on his
back as I spooned him. This is exactly what I'd wanted him to do to me
instead.

"Oh Kody," I moaned. "Oh Kody...oh baby."

He went "mmmm," like a num-num noise, and the vibration of his mouth sent a
buzz of electricity right down my shaft and into my balls. I'm surprised I
didn't fill his mouth full of cum on the spot.

"Oh God, Kody. That feels so good, buddy. Suck it for me. Get it all
wet. As much as you want."

I pushed him down further, encouraging him to take it deep into his
throat. He gagged almost instantly. Looked up and looked sheepish.

"Yours is so big," he gasped, lifting his mouth off and coming up for
air. He looked me right in the eyes. He tried again, and gagged a second
time.

Is it wrong that watching and hearing him gag turned me on even more?

It was almost as if I were outside of my body viewing it from
above. Wanting to hear him make that noise. Wanting to hear his newness at
it.

God help me, I liked to hear him gag just a little. I wished he'd gag some
more.

Perhaps just a few misty-eyed tears of throat-strain when he looked up at
me. I didn't want to cause him any permanent discomfort, but a few
indications that my hard cock was way too big for his pretty little throat
would have been appreciated and rewarded handsomely.

My mind started working out a ridiculous prize tier as he blew me. If he
swallows it all, we're going shopping for toys. If he turns around
doggie-style and says I can shoot it in his hole instead, he's getting a
new iPhone 7. Stunning what you think about when a kid sucks your cock. The
disjointed things that run through your mind. It feels that good. You can't
remotely focus.

"Look up at me, baby," I whispered as he throated me. "That's it."

I wanted to see the capitulation in his eyes.

He stopped for a minute to fact-check.

"Do you make juice?" he asked so innocently I wanted to marry him. "Damey
makes tons. I know how to eat it, so if you want to squirt it in mouth,
it's okay, Uncle D. You can squirt."

"Ohhhh, Kody," I moaned, already imagining coating my nephews tonsils with
a thick load of jizz. "Oh buddy. God I love you. It won't take long."

He continued to fellate me with a skill I was stunned he knew. His own hard
dickie was almost immediately ready for round two, so I grabbed him by the
skinny ribs, flipped him around on top of me on the couch, pulled down his
sleep sweats, positioned him on top of me and effortlessly slid him into a
classic 69 position.

"Does Damey do this one?" I asked in a whisper. I took his little salt
stick into my mouth and reveled at the flavor.

"Uh-huh," he whispered, pushing it into my mouth. "It's a 59."

At any other time, the math discrepancy would have been funny. Adorable,
even. Not now though. With his dick in my mouth and mine in his, I didn't
even care. Barely even noticed.

He was on top, I was on bottom, head to tippy-toe, while he pumped up and
down inside my mouth. His 10-year-old babydick rammed suprisingly deep into
my throat, almost made ME gag, and it tasted like salt and boy piss and
watermelon body wash. I never wanted that flavor to end. I wanted to die
sucking his delicious boydick.

"You can park your dick in my garage," he whispered quietly. "You can stick
it in me to juice."

I moaned.

"But just the tip part," he added quickly, retracting, clarifying. "Not
your whole cock-wiener. Yours is too big."

I nodded. My chest was pounding. I wanted to be inside him so badly.

"Are you sure, Kody?" I whispered huskily. "I don't want to hurt you with
it. Not even with the tip part."

"It's okay," he said. "It'll be okay. Damey squirts it in my hole all the
time. He calls it my C-Word."

"He squirts it in your C-word?" I asked him.

"Cunt," he whispered, turning red. "He says he's squirting his sexes in my
cunt."

I moaned when he said the filthy word. My dick throbbed and I needed to
fuck him more than ever.

He hopped off me, scooted me over, and stood up, bent over the couch and
spread his ass cheeks.

I whimpered like a lost baby when I saw and smelled his pink and glistening
rosebud.

All I could think of was, "I'm going to put my cock in there, baby. I'm
going to put my cock inside you in a way you'll want men to do to you for
the rest of your life. It all starts here."

I put my face into his crack. I tongued his hole, still shiny with
Vaseline. I fingered him almost instantly. Fingered and tasted. Leaned in
and ate him. Ate his sweet asshole while his back arched and he made
whimpering sexy whiny noises.

"Ohhhhhhh," he sighed as he pushed back against me. "Damey does that
too. He always licks in my naughty parts. It feels real good before he
sticks it in me and squirts inside."

I fingered him again. He was hot and still pliant and he pushed back
against me.

"Kody," I begged, "I gotta cum. I'm sorry, buddy. I can't last any
longer. I gotta squirt my juice in you right now. Is that okay? Can I park,
baby?"

"Just the tip," he said a little fearfully. "Don't park too far. I'm not
good at the far part yet."

I lined my fat mushroom head up with the tip of his glistening boy slit and
edged it forward into his gash. Oh Jesus, he was tight.

"Ow," he said. "Slower. Go slow."

He arched his back and winced and squeezed his fists together the minute my
cock breached his first anal ring. I grabbed him by the hips and pulled him
slowly toward me, sheathing his tight tube down my dick a millimeter at a
time.

I heard him hiss as the bulb of my prodder crowned its way past his
defenseless second sphincter, which had already been breached and stretched
to the upper limit.

"That's all, that's all," he whispered quickly, reaching back to push me
back out a little. "Don't go any further in me. Too far. Too far to park."

He was sweaty and panting. Unsure, but still with me.

"Shhhhh," I whispered. "It's okay. Let it happen. Let me do my sexes in
you, Kody. Such a big boy. Such a good, big boy. It'll all be over soon."

He relaxed and allowed me a little more entry.

"Okay," he whispered quiety.

"Good, brave boy," I told him again, and kissed his sweaty forehead.

I stood there, rocking gently in and out of him, three-inches of my cock
inside, maybe four, and my nephew moaned and looked flushed. His breathing
was shallow. I could see more shining sweat bead on his forehead. I knew
this took some effort for him, but he patiently winced and allowed it,
occasionally gasping and arching his back as I wiggled in and out,
preparing to shallow-breed his hesitant, wet love hole.

"Baby," I whispered. "Kody. Here it comes."

"Squirt it in me," he whispered, exhausted. "Squirt your juices in my
butthole."

"Such a hot little butthole, buddy."

"My butthole likes your wiener," he hissed. "Do it in me. Do the F-word in
me."

"Say it," I told him.

"Fuck," he whispered. "Fuck it in me."

I could smell him. Smell the earthy-hot honey-musk of him. Feel the heat of
him. Hear the in and out of him.

"I'm gonna cum, Kody. Breed your little C-Word."

He grunted. Growled.

"Hurry," he said. "It hurts. Squirt it in my C-Word."

"Say it."

"Cunt," he whispered."Squirt it in my cunt. But hurry."

"Here it comes, buddy. Gonna cum in your cunt."

With a deep breath and two more pumps, watching my thick cock prying his
tight ass open, I grabbed his skinny hips, pushed forward, gasped in a
shudder of pure bliss, and impregnated his bowels, as deeply as I dared.

"So tight...so good...OH FUCK....NNNGGGGGGHHHHHH!" I roared.

I grunted and twitched as I coated his rectal walls with the force of a
hosing, sticky load.

He ground back against me, arching one more time as nearly all of my dick
was now spasming and pumping its tribute inside his drenched, wet boyguts.

"Ow," he whispered quietly. "That was a hard one." He pouted.

I pulled back a little, still gasping and inseminating him.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I went too fast."

"That was way deeper than Damey," he said quietly. "You parked really far
in me."

He sounded offended at first, even a little suprised and hurt, but then in
a few more moments he relaxed. Brightened. He reached back behind himself
and touched his sticky hole where my cock was still embedded and growing
softer.

"It's squishy," he said. "It feels all goopy in me."

I couldn't speak. I couldn't answer. I just sat their shuddering and
twitching and drizzle-finishing in his sweet 10-year-old asshole. I could
smell the sex of us all around. Combined smells. Ass. Cock. Cum. Honey.

"You made me pee," he whispered, looking down at the couch. Sure enough,
that last thrust had milked a squirt of piss right out of his sweetnut.

"Oh, Kody," I panted. "That was excellent, baby. You were so brave and
good."

He beamed. Looked tired, but proud.

"Yeah," he said softly. "Damey says I'm getting good at it too. He says
some boys are born to. He says I'm a born-to boy."

I nodded. I couldn't dispute it.

"I'm so glad you let me do that, Kody," I told him, caressing his
head. Leaning down to kiss his sweaty hair. "I've wanted to do that to you
for so long."

"Don't tell my mom," he said, suddenly wide-eyed. "I don't care if we do
it, but don't tell on me okay?"

The innocence of a boy, thinking HE might be the one in trouble. It's
astounding in the grand scheme.

"I promise," I told him. "It'll always be our secret."

"Good," he said. "No matter how many times we do it?"

"Promise," I swore. And he had no reason to doubt me. An uncle's word is
biblical. Testimony. Gold.

"You're gonna need another bath, kiddo," I said to him, wiping his grimy
grunt-fucked forehead. "You smell stinky. Like butt and juice and sexes."

"Okay," he whispered. "I feel your juices dripping out of me. You make way
more gunk than Damey."

Sure enough, I reached down and finger-swiped him and my ooze-load was
already burping out of his puffy anus and drizzling down his leg like
drizzle on a sponge cake. Like Hollandaise. Béarnaise sauce. Fuck
Fondue.

I slowly pulled the length of my cock from his ass. This time I did here a
plop as my thick head came out of him like a cork. Semen gurgled out
immediately. I rubbed it back up against his anus, now open and
bubbling. Not wanting to waste a drop, I fed back in the remaining cum that
was oozing around his puff hole. Unexpectely, he turned around swiftly,
lowered his head to my lap and instantly took me into his mouth, sucking me
clean.

"Oh, Jesus Kody," I whispered, impressed.

"Damey makes me clean it off," he mumbled through mouthfuls of cock. "I
have to clean his wiener off when he squirts it in me. He says it's not
over until I eat my butt juice off of him."

And I let him. Lord, I let him clean me off, whistlestop clean, until no
more atoms of his sweet, clenching ass juice or my own thick semen remained
on my dick shaft. This kid was good, and I had no doubt he'd be eating and
sitting on cock for the rest of his life. Kody was one of the born-to boys.

"I taste my butt," he told me, smelling and smiling and licking at my fuck
pole. "Your cock-wiener tastes like my C-Word juice."

I pulled him up to me and gave him a long, deep tongue kiss. Sure enough. I
could taste my own cum and his ass flavor in his mouth. There's nothing
quite like it. It's the oldest ambrosia on earth.

And so began the delicious and repetitive deflowering of my nephew Kody
that summer. I have his neighbor boy Damien to thank for his foresight and
training, I have my sister's employer to thank for her work trip, and my
eager-to-learn nephew to thank for his dry humps, his tippy toes and then
everything else that followed.

So heads up, uncles. The next time your nephew stays over at your house and
decides he wants sexes up his butt, start it off slow, don't go in too deep
and be sure to leave your gunk right where the gunk belongs...as far up his
tight litle C-Word as an uncle dares put it.

Dry humps and tippy toes are a good combination when a boy turns ten, or at
any other age.

Good luck. Happy grinding.

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