Date: Fri, 17 Jun 2016 08:42:41 +0100 (BST)
From: z.blake@tutanota.com
Subject: Kelly in the Kayak

KELLY IN THE KAYAK
By Zachyboy
M/b, b/b, oral, anal, feet

This story is a work of fiction and includes sexually-explicit talk and
weenie-fondling by two grown men who talk about boys they have loved and
boys they have not loved and who did what to whom in the grand scheme of
middle school baseball.

It's a sweaty and ambitious recap to say the least, but it's probably full
of lies, so don't get too excited. Nonetheless, if it happens to be illegal
where you live, or not your cup of...well, cup of athletic supporter I
guess, please take your bucket of balls and your big wooden bat and go
elsewhere. The rest of us are going to put our hands down our pants and see
if we can get to third base.

Give a little love back to the guys who make your weenie hard.

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

Everybody who makes a donation today gets an imaginary BJ from Scuba Steve.

Or your feet licked. You pick.

On with the show.

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Big Bob Rumple and Fast Freddy Footman had the yearbook out again. The
middle school yearbook, of course, because that's what they've been doing
on Saturday nights since God knows when. Talking a whole lot of trash about
the kids they went to school with, getting all hot and bothered remembering
the middle school baseball boys who made their dicks hard, then finishing
the evening with a couple of quick butt fucks and a final rum and coke.

"Fuckin' Kelly Kidman," Big Bob said as he took out his adequately-sized
penis and started slowly stroking it up and down, yearbook on his lap,
looking at the taut young body of the 12-year-old shortstop smiling up at
him from the yearbook. It was another 1970's black and white nostalgia
night, with dirty talk, a bottle of lube and eventual semen.

"He was a looker all right," Freddy nodded, taking a glance and Bob's
growing stroker, knowing the night would likely culminate with
six-point-five up his older-but-wiser, still-skinny rectum.

"Yep," grunted Bob. "Motherfuckin' Kelly. Fuckin' motherfuckin' monkey boy
Kelly. Spec-tacular, my friend. Teeeee-riffic."

"How many times you fuck him, Bobby?" Freddy asked deadpan, knowing the
real answer was zero, but Bob would inevitably round up.

"Oh, Christ. I don't know," said Bob. "Nine? Ten? Who can remember that far
back?"

"He have a tight little boy pussy, Bobber?"

"Oh, shit yes, my friend. Shit yes. Tight as they come."

Bob looked down and admired the boy in the yearbook. He was a taut and
lithe athletic boy. A natural shortstop from the get-go. He was a sixth
grader when Bob and Freddy were in eighth.

"The first time I fucked him was that weekend we all went on that kayaking
trip down the Crow Wing River," Bob nodded, taking a long pull on his rum
and coke and an even longer pull on his cock.

"Oh, sure enough," said Freddy. "I remember that trip. Camping and
kayaks. I got sick and threw up in the bushes. I don't recall you fucking
Kelly though. I must have missed that part."

"Oh, I fucked him good all right. Right up his sweet little wet spot."

"Hmph," nodded Freddy noncommittally, smelling a foul ball, but patient
enough to let his friend get his motor running. Bob leaned back in his easy
chair and took another long sip on his drink. Ice cubes chattered.

"He was 12 years old that first sweet night I fucked him up the rump. 12
years old on the 12th. Golden Birthday. Golden Boy."

"You don't say," Freddy said, fishing his own cock out and squirting a
little lube on it, getting ready to jack his way through another one of Big
Bob's whoppers.

Bob looked at the boy in the yearbook again and gave Freddy a proud
grin. He sat back in his chair with closed eyes and a handful of cock and
off he went into storyland.

"So, this gorgeous, barefoot Adonis shows up with his mom, getting ready to
kayak on the lake. He's the first in line for everything, he's so eager to
go."

"Eager for a fuck too, hey Bobber?"

"Eager beaver, my friend. Eager beaver."

Freddy felt his dick puff up. Bobby continued.

"Let me tell you - this little fucker was adept with a paddle. I saw him in
that kayak sweating away, and after I stopped thinking about licking his
pits for, oh, about twenty-five minutes or so, I got the sense he was
left-handed, since he kept going in counter-clockwise circles everytime he
rowed."

"A kayak'll do that, Bobber."

"It sure will, my friend. Absolutely. But hot little Kelly, well fuck,
eventually he got the hang of it and pretty much had it mastered by the
end. A quick study. That'll come in handy later that night in the tent, I
figured, when I'm teaching him all about giving good head and swallowing
Bobby Junior using both his prepubescent sphincters."

Freddy felt his balls clench together a little in spite of himself.

"After our first run down the rapids, he was back to the picnic table,
gloriously shirtless and barefoot as the day he was born. Perfect pups, my
friend. I could have eaten those fuckers for lunch."

"Oh, I bet you sucked on those fuckers when you butt fucked him, didn't
you, Bobber? Didn't you gobble those beautiful boyfeet?"

Freddy was stroking in earnest now.

"Patience, my friend. Patience."

Freddy nodded and slowed it down.

"He slipped back into his flip flops on the way to the porta-potty with his
mom," Bob recalled. "I figured, fuck, that's okay. He can slip those little
blue fuckers off again when we get inside and I latch that plastic
lock. Shit, I'll even be a gentleman and close the lid on the commode so
there's no chance of him slipping in as I sit him down and suck his juicy
piglets."

"Oh, you dirty sweet talker," Freddy grinned. "You always were a toe man,
Bobber."

"Fuck, he had a pretty little body," Bob recalled, re-lubing his cock. "Not
too tart, not too sweet. You could tell by the baby fat around his tummy
he'd have to battle his own genes to maintain his svelte tits through high
school. Shit, he's probably big as a house by now, but back then, I had
faith in him. Jesus, look at the yearbook, Freddy. Look at those gappy
little teeth."

He handed the yearbook over to Freddy.

"Lovely gaps," Freddy sighed wistfully. "You spray a big old load of Bobber
Juice in between?"

Bob nodded enthusiastically. "Did it that night, my friend. And a dozen
times more that summer. Coated those pearly fuckers good."

Freddy nodded. Cupped his balls and stroked some more.

"Anyway," Big Bob continued, "Kelly comes back out of the porta potty. I
felt like the king's trumpeters should have played some kind of salute as
he walked back to the campsite he was so fucking pretty."

"Blow those trumpets, Bobber," Freddy grunted, still stroking away.

"Kelly," I says. "Come on over and sit by me. Over here. I wanna talk to
you."

Bob grinned and sipped his drink, a dirty little leer forming on his lips.

"Well, Coach looks straight over at me, knowing what I was up to. That was
the year coach was banging Brandon up the butt, and the kayak trip was no
exception. I had no doubt Coach's cock was going to smell like Brandon
breath and Brandon butt before the night was over. Coach's cock was a
walking Brandon DNA sample that year."

Freddy nodded. "It sure was."

"Anyway, Kelly comes down and sits next to me, and we roasted a marshmallow
or two, made some S'mores, and before I know it, he's inching closer. And
then a few minutes later, a little closer after that. Some definite hero
worship going on that weekend, Freddy. How could he help it? He was 12 and
I was 14. He wanted cock in his pussy and he knew I had some."

"That's it, Bobber," Freddy grinned. "Give him some teen cock. Put your
hand on his leg. Feel him up a little."

"Oh, hell yes, Freddy. That's just what I did. Started stroking his leg a
little and sure enough, I saw him pop a little woody. This little hottie
wanted the Bobby Special for sure.

"They all wanted it Bobber. They all wanted the Special-B."

"So I says to him, Kelly, take off that shirt, you look all hot and
sweaty. And he gets all blushy and shy, but he lifts that fucker right off,
and those marvelous hairless pits come into view, and Mother Mary, Freddy,
I could have sucked those fuckers right on the spot."

"Oh yeah," said Freddy, squeezing the Pre off his dickhead. "You should
have licked those bare little stink caves right then and there. Make him
squeal like a girlie boy."

"Whoof," said Bob, squeezing his own drop of pre-cum. "I remember that
perfect boy chest. Ideal pec definition for a 12. Beautiful nipples. An
oh-so-tiny innie. Wouldn't hold much of a cum spurt, but that's okay. And
those fuckin' blue flip flops, Freddy. Mag-fucking-nificent. Those fuckers
should be required summer footwear for all boys 14 and under."

"When they're not barefoot, you mean," Freddy piped up.

"Amen, brother. Amen."

The two men stopped edging to refresh their drinks, settling back down for
the continuation of Big Bob's improbable braggadocio.

"Then what, Bobber?" Freddy asked settling back down to work his boner back
into a lather. "Did you take him in the tent and fuck him right up the ass
like he wanted?"

"Not yet," Bob said, repositioning his cock and giving his ball crease a
sniff, via his finger. "It was still light out and all the chaperone
parents were still milling around on the fringe. Coach had Brandon up
against a pine tree, talking him up, and Brandon had a big smile on his
face. They headed off down the trail together, and you can bet your titties
Coach was going to make out with that boy, slip a hand down the back of his
shorts and finger his pussy before they came back, sure as we're sitting
here."

"Mmmm," Freddy sighted wistfully. "Savor the flavor. Brandon's rump juice
on a grown man's fuck finger? No better Popsicle in the world."

"Hallelujah," said Bob. "You said a mouthful. Anyway, I knew I couldn't
fuck Kelly until Coach got back from diddling Brandon and declared
flashlights out and flaps zipped and all the grown-ups went to sleep for
Christ's sake."

"Understandable," Freddy said. "Bide your time."

"So we talked about baseball. I rubbed his leg a little more. He got
courageous and scooted up closer to me."

"I like you," he says to me with those big puppy dog blinkers of his. "You
make me feel special," he says, and Christ, Freddy, my cock was about to
jump out of my pants and kiss him on the lips."

Freddy gave Bob an understanding nod.

"And then, funniest thing, a fucking mosquito flew up and bit him right
about then and he slapped a hand over his own shoulder." "Fucker," he
giggles. "Got him."

"Oh fuck," said Freddy. "I do enjoy it when a boy curses."

"Me too my friend, me too. Well by that time, I've got a boner, Kelly's got
a boner, so I reach up and brush the dead mosquito off him, and take the
opportunity to rub his shoulders a little which makes him moan out loud."

"Oh yeah," said Freddy. "The minute they moan, you know you'll be up their
ass by midnight. It's a sure fire sign you'll be getting some boy pussy. A
boy always moans when his pussy's got the munchies."

"Oh fuck, never mind his pussy, you should have seen his back. Lord in
heaven, that back was pretty. I had dreams aobut licking every square inch
of that porcelain platter for the next six months. Lord, how I wanted to
fire hose it with my semen that night, right then and there, rubbing it
like that for him. Not as good as Solarcaine for a sunburn, but it builds
character."

Freddy nodded.

"But then just when it's heating up, Kelly's mom saunters over and gives us
both a silly-ass grin and says "Hi boys, you're awfully quiet over here,"
and all I could think was, "Of course I'm quiet you daffy bitch, I'm about
to fuck your son if the sun would go down and you'd make like a tree."

Freddy snorted and crunched on an ice cube. "Scoot, bitch," he
giggled. "We've got son pussy to fuck!"

"But, fuck me Freddy, by now the mood is ruined, and Kelly wants to hide
his boner from his mom, so he goes over to where the kayaks are propped up
against some trees and tiptoes up to tie the rope line tighter, just for
something to do. And his mom and I just sat there and watched him. Fuck
what a view. I think even his own mom came in her shorts while she looked
at that view."

"Pretty ass, Bobber?"

"Pretty as a peach, my friend. I don't mind telling you, I snuck a hand
down my shorts when his mom wasn't looking, and sure enough Bobby Junior
was down there in my underwear, drooling feverishly. Kelly on his tippy
toes with the one foot dangling in mid-air, ass prominently displayed?
Jesus, what a butt. Not too plump, not too bony. Juuust right,
Goldilocks. Papa Bear's gonna eat that fucker straight up tonight. Get in
that tent and bring me some porridge. Lickable, edible, fuckable Kelly
ass."

"Did you get a good look at his pups, Bobber? Tell me you saw his baby
pups."

"Oh fuck yes," nodded Bob. "Flip-flopped prepubescent boyfeet dangling
half-in, half-out. I was actually pulling for his flips to slip right
off. 'Come on, fall off. You know you want to.' My cartoon bubble was
clamoring for barefeet. Bend over you hot little fucker. A simple yank n'
tug, and we're home free, Freddy. Flips and shorts and undies and
all. Glory, Glory, Hallelujah; His Truth is on display."

"Whoof," said Freddy. "I gotta slow down or I'm gonna cum, Bobber."

"Fucking boy soles and toe bottoms front and center," Bob grunted, still
slow-stroking his cock. "And Lord, how clean. My tongue could have detached
from my mouth, fallen on the ground, slithered over like a snake, and
climbed up a table leg to quench its thirst. I swear to God,
Freddy. Lick-lick-lick. Nom-nom-nom. Fuckin' barefoot Kelly. I'm surprised
Bobby Junior didn't spontaneously erupt hands-free in my shorts. He was in
luuuve."

"And 12 years old that weekend," Freddy sighed. "Freshly-minted."

"Golden Boy on his Golden Birthday," Bob sighed back. "A full two years
past the Nifty age minimums. Easily passed the height requirement for a
turn on the Bobby Junior Log Ride."

"Did you give it to him?" Freddy panted. "Did you give him a big old log
ride?"

"What better gift on his 12th birthday than my penis?" Bob shrugged. "And I
got to take home the best goody bag ever - his virginity. Mine to keep
forever and ever. Special shout out to my testicles for producing all that
special birthday cake batter."

"Oh, tell me about it, Bobber," Freddy panted. "Tell me how you fucked his
little hiney in the tent. Did it feel good? Was it tight?"

"Tighter than a snare drum, old buddy. Right and tight as Saturday
night. The kids were all paired up in tents that trip. Like I said, Coach
was Brandon that summer, so Brandon was in the tent with Coach, getting his
butt banged silly. You could hear the squeals from five tents away. If you
shut your eyes and listened close you could hear Coach's cock sloshing in
and out of Brandon's hinder. Brandon's hole was so loose from Coach fucking
him that summer, he was lucky he could keep his guts inside."

Freddy nodded.

"And if I recall my history, that was the same year Jakey the Snakey was
licking those fake tattoes and putting them on everybody's balls and asses,
so if memory serves, you were in the tent fucking Jake."

Freddy knew he wasn't anywhere near a tent or fucking a kid on the kayak
trip that year, but he nodded his head yes and pretended like he
was. Whatever it took to get Bob good and ready.

"So the sun finally goes down, his mom toodles off to her own tent, and I
slip into my tent with little Kelly, and I said, listen, I know you want
it. You know you want it. How about we skip the formalities and we see if
your little sixth grade mouth is up to the challenge of sucking my hairy
eighth grade cock, you hot little fucker."

"And what did he say, Bobber? Oooh! What did he say?"

"Shit, Freddy. That kid was on my dick like flies on a dead cat. Had his
sweet little lips around me, sucking my pole like he was humming the Star
Spangled Banner."

"Did you blast him a good one, Bobber? Shoot a wet one right down his
goozle?"

"Oh fuck no," said Bob. "I wasn't about to waste a good batch of ball sauce
in his yap. I wanted to plant it straight up his hind end. Happy birthday,
Kelly's butthole. I got a big surprise for you, cupcake."

"Oh yeah," Freddy panted. "Stick it in him, Bob. Stick it in him hard while
you tell me how you fucked him."

Freddy stood up and dropped his sweats around his ankles, grabbed the
coffee table and bent over for Bob. Sometimes letting your grown-up buddy
pretend you're the boy is the nicest thing a friend can do. Big Bob got the
hint, squirted a fresh dollop of lube on his cock, stood up and prepared to
mount his old pal Freddy from behind.

"First I lubed up my big fat cock and rubbed it around on his tiny little
winker just like this," Bob said, making slippery-wet contact with Freddy's
anal ring.

"Oh yeah," said Freddy. "That felt good to him, Bobber. He liked the way
you rubbed it. Rub it some more. Make him feel sweet back there."

"Sweet as cherry pie," Bob said, pressing his cock forward with steady
pressure. Freddy hissed as the mushroom head dug into his butt ring.

"Pushed up against him and gave it a good hard ram and it popped it right
in," Bob grunted, piercing his cock tip through Freddy's willing orifice.

"Damn it, Bob, that dick hurts good!" Freddy squealed at the intrustion,
pushing back against it and trying to gobble more with his asshole. "You
fuck that boy, Bobber. You fuck that little kayak motherfucking tent
monkey."

"Oh, yeah," Bob moaned, sinking into his buddy. "Kelly liked every inch. I
gave it to him deep."

"Mmmph," Freddy grunted. "Give it to him deeper."

"Mmmph," Bob grunted back. "Deeper like this?"

"Oh yeah," Freddy groaned. "Nice and deep and long."

Freddy reached around and started to stroke his own hard cock while Bob
fucked him.

"He started to whinny a little at first," Bob shuddered. "I was afraid he
was going to wake his mom two tents over, but I pinched his tits and told
him to pipe down, and he shut the fuck up and took it like a champ."

"Oh yeah," Freddy groaned. "Stick it in him, Bob, fuck him good."

"Just like this, I fucked him," Bob grunt-whispered, pushing his fuck stick
in and out of Freddy's clamper. "Gave it to him long and deep. Good and
hard. Long and deep, just like this."

"Oh yeah," Freddy moaned, his eyes closed and the corner of his mouth
drooling.

"Flipped him over on his back," Bob bragged, still deep fucking
Freddy. "Pulled my cock out, flipped him over on his porcelain mosquito-bit
platter, put that luscious left foot in my mouth, and sucked his toes until
they were dripping with my spit, all the while fucking his sweet little
shortstop birthday cunt."

Freddy closed his eyes and winced and groaned and stroked his cock while
Bob fucked him over the coffee table. It hurt when Bob fucked him. It hurt
so damn good.

"Fucked him long," Bob panted. "Fucked him long and hard and deep."

"Cum in him," Freddy grunted. "Cum in him hard. Fuck his little kayak full
of Bobby cum."

Bob picked up the pace.

"Sucked his feet and fucked his pretty little boy pussy," Bob grunted,
getting ready to blow a load in Freddy's guts. "Shoved my fat fuck stick in
and out of his pretty 12-year-old boy cunt until he was moaning and meowing
and purring like a kitten, begging for his cream."

"Oh yeah, Bobber. Fuck him hard," Freddy begged, his asshole clenching
around Freddy's cock as it drilled him. "Fuck him straight up the
river. Give him the paddle! Fuck him til you cum!"

"SLAMMED it into him...SLAMMED this motherfukcing cock into him!" Bob
grunted, driving the point home with some pounding hip thrust.

"Oh yeah," Freddy whimpered. "Oh yeah! Fuck him harder!"

"Take it, you little birthday bitch!" Bob growled in Freddy's ear. "Take my
cake batter, right up your cock gobbler, you hot little shortstop! Paddle
this up your pretty little kayak, you hot little monkey...NNNGGGGH!!!"

With that, Bob grabbed Freddy's hips, lurched forward and blew an ocean up
his buddy's quivering butt chute.

"NNNNGGGGH!" he hollered again as his load blasted forward. "FUCK your
little HOLE!"

"NNNNGGGGH!" Freddy echoed, as his own cock erupted a puddle of goo on the
coffee table. Two old friends, riding the rapids.

"Fucked you, Kelly," Bob panted. "Fucked your little birthday baby hole."

"Oh fuck, Bobber. Oh sweet holy fuck. Stir that hot, burning cum in him."

Bob jammed forward again, shoving his cock in harder for good measure and
stirring it around inside Freddy's bowels. Freddy shuddered at the twist
treatment. Sweet heaven being stirred that way, after the jizz load.

"I put my hand over his mouth so he wouldn't holler out loud when I came in
him," Bob panted breathlessly. "Little fucker almost bit my finger off."

"Oh yeah," Freddy panted, sucking Bob's finger. "Gag him with it. Stick
that fat fuck finger down his throat, Bobber."

Bob let Freddy fellate his finger a few minutes longer while he stir-fucked
Freddy's prostate until they both went soft, then Bob pulled his cock out
and wiped it on Freddy's thigh. It was slick with lube, cum and the essence
of ass shine.

Freddy stood up on wobbly knees and reached for his rum and coke. He took a
big thirsty drink.

"Oh fuck," he quivered. "He'll remember that one for a long time,
Bobber. You gave it to him good. Whoof."

Bob smiled. Gave his spent cock a squeeze.

"We aim to please, Freddy. Me and Bobby Junior, we aim to please."

Freddy wiped the sweat off his forehead and dabbed the cum of the coffee
table with his underwear. He'd enjoy those later.

"And you fucked him ten times after that?" he asked Bob.

"All summer long," Bob shrugged. "Ten, eleven, a dozen times, who remembers
that far back? Fucked him one night at Coach's house, right next to Coach
fucking Brandon. King-sized bed, side by side, mano a mano."

"Holy shit," Freddy sighed breathlessly. There was no truth to it of
course, but it was fun to imagine.

"Coach fucked Brandon, and I fucked Kelly, lined up like two ducks in a
shooting gallery. You've never seen such a pretty sight. Two 12-year-olds,
buns-up and kneeling for man cock and teen cock. Makes your heart sing,
Freddy. Makes it sing church songs."

"Whoof," said Freddy as he ass-clenched Bob's spermload and enjoyed the
squishiness inside. His hole felt the phantom pain of Bob's missing cock
like an amputated limb. He wobbled over to his chair and sat down again.

"Anybody see him come out of the tent the next morning, all freshly fucked
and dripping your sauce?" Freddy asked Bob.

"Aw, Coach knew the next morning I fucked him. Jake the Snake knew and
probably wanted to lick a fresh tattoo and stick it on my cock to
celebrate. They could tell by the way he was limping, taking my big fat
fuck stick up his little rump. They didn't call me Big Bobby for nothing
back then."

Freddy nodded. Nobody called him Big Bobby back then, ever. But a story's a
story, and a fuck is a fuck, especially between old friends. Especially
when the middle school yearbook comes out.

"Kelly in the kayak," Freddy sighted wistfully, his asshole dripping a
tickle-trickle of Bobby's cum down his leg, gumming up the couch cushions
again.

"Sex on a stick," Bob nodded. "12 years old and fresh as a daisy."

"Magnificent," Freddy sighed. "More rum, Bobber?"

"Don't mind if I do," Bob nodded, handing Freddy his glass and picking up
the yearbook again. It fell open to page 14.

"Oh shit," Bob called out to Freddy in the kitchen, where ice cubes were
clinking and the cap was coming off the Captain Morgan for another
round. "Look at this, Freddy. Page 14. Denny DeTarrio. Remember that little
fucker, my friend? Center field? Seventh grade? Lord did he have a sweet
pretty butthole on him."

Freddy didn't have a clue who Bob was talking about, but answered, "Oh hell
yeah, he was a hot one," just to keep the party going. His ass was sore,
but he was always up for seconds.

"I fucked Denny and his little brother David so hard one night they
couldn't sit down for a week," Bob bragged, re-lubing his cock and thinking
seriously about taking another quick spin up Freddy's wet welcome
wagon. "Man, that little David. He smelled like cherry Lifesavers when I
fucked him. I put my nose right up to his little butthole before I rimmed
him, and all I could smell was sweet candy boy cherry."

"Right and tight as Saturday night," Freddy said, returning with the
drinks.

Ice cubes chattered and Bob rubbed his bulge.

"Not as tight as Kelly was," Bob shrugged. "Denny'd been poking David up
the ass since Christmas Eve two years ago. He was loose as a Christmas
goose by the time I plugged him. But he sure begged me like a puppy dog for
it. They both did."

"Do tell," said Freddy, farting out a cum bubble.

"Well, shit. You know I don't like to brag, but since you asked..." Bob
began.

"Yep, since I asked," Freddy echoed.

"It all started when David bent over in front of my one day to tie his
little shoelaces," Bob smiled wistfully.

"Yep, shoelaces," Freddy echoed, raising an eyebrow. That was a new
one. "You don't say, Bobber. Tell me about his shoelaces..."

"Oh he was a hottie alright...with an ass like sweet, sheer heaven..."

Fast Freddy Footman clenched his double sphincters together and smiled as
his bragging buddy, Big Bob Rumple launched into yet another tall tale.

And before the night was over, Kelly in the kayak was the least of his
worries.

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THE END

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Thanks to the wild fantasies and unbridled pedo-pedi passion of Scuba
Steve, the uncontested Master of Boy Feet, who helped me greatly with the
shock talk in this one. Scoob loves his minxes heart and sole, and it sure
shows spectacularly in every wild flight of fancy that comes fire hosing
out of his beautiful, filthy mind. Teeeee-riffic, my friend. On behalf of
appreciative footjackers everywhere, we thank you. Teeeee-riffic!

Those two loveable pervs Big Bob and Fast Freddy also appear in:

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/talking-trash-about-the-team
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/screwed-glued-and-tattooed

The other ABC Boys by Zachyboy include:

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/andy-in-the-attic
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/barrett-in-the-bathtub
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/casey-in-the-clubhouse
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/daddy-in-the-doorway
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/facedown-in-the-freight-train
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/murphy-in-the-middle
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/raven-in-the-rainstorm
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/treyden-in-the-treehouse

More to cum.

Love, Zach

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