Date: Thu, 5 May 2016 05:32:11 +0100 (BST)
From: z.blake@tutanota.com
Subject: Mennonite Tight 3

MENNONITE TIGHT
By Zachyboy
with special guest author Benjamin Thurmond
M/b, oral, anal

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

This story is a work of fiction. Benj and I laid the groundwork, but we'll
leave the particular masturbatory details entirely up to you. Feel free to
grab your nearest bottle of lube or hand lotion for optimal pleasure. If
it's illegal to read this story where you live, it sort of begs the
question, what are you doing here? As always, no actual children were
touched, sucked, licked or ding-donged during the making of this motion
picture.

Please support the Nifty Archive Alliance. Your donations help keep the
fantasies soaring.

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

On with the show.

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

CHAPTER 3. WITH CALEB

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

Caleb was 10 years, 6 months and 29 days old when I fucked him. There seems
to be some vague misconception out there in M/b land that a 10-year-old boy
can't possibly take a grown-up cock up the rump at ten-point-five. Let's
put that non-starter to bed right now. They can. Caleb could anyway. Sucked
my cock inside his butt like it was a quarter-inch
suppository. Bloop. Right up the English Channel.

I remember back to a conversation I had with Eli, his dad, before I met the
boys. We'd been talking about Mormon boys and their special undergarments;
speculating on what they wore and when they started wearing them, and then
the topic turned to his own boys' skivvies. I told him I'd always wondered
if Mennonite boys wore anything special or specific.

"I'm assuming Amish and Mennonite folk wear the same underwear I wear," I
told him, "unless there's a secret training depot somewhere."

"Ha!" he snorted. "The boys and I wear Hanes and Fruit of the Looms. I
don't recall every having a special class at church on what undies to
wear. If there was, I'd be in on it, because I kinda like pics of boys in
underwear. I used to look at the Tiger site all the time, before they
cleaned it up and stopped showing the sexy pictures."

I shook my head in continued astonishment. This Mennonite dad checking out
the Tiger Brief site. Strange, beautiful world.

"My communications with the Amish generally revolve around them asking me
for car rides," Eli grunted, "so even though I've had one or two of their
lads in my front seat, and gave their crotches more than a passing glance,
by the looks of shapes and sizes, they've got no secret supply so far as I
know."

But then the conversation drifted back to his boys, and more specifically,
how I'd best manage to get my dick up Caleb, his youngest, after banging
Samuel, his eldest. I was open for suggestions.

"Well," he said, "Caleb is, of course, a much different personality than
Samuel. If Caleb had been raised Baptist, he'd have probably already fucked
three girls senseless, and celebrated with a shot of bourbon. If he was
Baptist."

"Having seen farm animals rut about all his life, he already knew the
basics of sex by the time he could toddle. Getting my own dick inside him
after his mama passed was no easy feat the first few times, but he knew
what we were doing from the get-go. Playing daddy bull and little calf. And
he had the teats in that scenario."

"What he doesn't know, as far as I'm aware, is that I'm about to trade him
off for a turn at your boys, and he's soon going to be the mare's cunt to
your stallion dick. Nor does he know the stimulation your stallion dick
will create inside him when you rut it up against his little fuck nut. I've
been balls-deep in him plenty of times, and believe me, he loves that
little prostate pressed, Mr. Blake. Jam it all in there, even if he balks
at first, which honestly, I can't imagine him doing."

"Whatever sensitivity you were going to show Samuel, forget it with
Caleb. He loves to rough house, so get rough. Wanna fuck him standing up?
Push him against the wall and push his skivvies down. Turn him around so
he's facing the wall. Pull his shirt off him. You can lean in against him
as you unbutton his shirt. Let him feel your boner pressing against his
lower back. Maybe he should see it before he gets fucked, since it'll
excite the shit out of him."

"You'll have to finger fuck him first to loosen him up. When I first
fingered him, I remember him saying "Ohhh, aughhhh, aughh, that
hurrrrtttsss!" And I told him, "Son, my finger doesn't hurt half as much as
my thick cock will, jammed up your unprepared ass, so take a deep breath
and thank me for favors."

"You may want to slide down his smooth body to kneel behind him," Eli
said. "Should you kiss and lick his back as you go down? He'll undoubtedly
shiver and get the goose-bumps. He doesn't have much body hair on his arms
and legs to speak of, but you'll see what little he does have standing
straight upright for you."

"Oh, and you might want to sniff those pre-pubescent armpits. He's 10 now,
and he sweats too, but it's a little different smell and flavor than his
older brother. Little droplets of perspiration cling to the smooth skin
under his arms, and while he's not as pungent as Samuel, sure as we're
standing here, his odor is still unmistakably boy."

"Anyway, he may discover when you get your tongue down to his rump that he
likes your licking even better than mine. Perhaps your hands are continuing
to press his hands against the wall as you go to town on him. Perhaps your
hands travel down his body to feel him...his tummy...his thighs...his
little maple pricklet."

"He'll thank his lucky stars you did this kind of preparation, because when
your thick cock head begins to push against that tight little rosebud, he's
going to yelp. Dirty, horny, naughty as he is, he always yelps a little
right at the start, until he discovers the pain is giving way to something
else...a feeling of being full. And once he feels that little prostate
inside being rubbed and stimulated, you just watch. His little peener's
gonna get hard as rock for you. He's gonna shiver, and he's gonna gasp.

"Make sure you realize how tight his ring is around your dick. It grips you
like a vice. And by all means, continue to push up into him, as far as you
can get it. Deeper and deeper."

"Caleb's gonna keep right on squealing, but don't you pay it no mind. He
knows what he's doing. Nothing I ain't done to him time and time
before. It's hard to tell whether he squeals from the pain of being taken
or because he doesn't want it to stop. Do it anyway. The train's left the
station and it's scootin' down the tunnel. No stoppin' it now. And when you
shoot it in him, you shoot it up in there as far as you can get it. You
fuck him hard, Mr. Blake. You fuck him hard."

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

But back to where we left off in the bedroom of Caleb's older brother
Samuel, as I was just finishing up with him. My spent cock was still
twitching.

I kissed him again. Tasted the honey-sweet dick-taste of his 13-year-old
mouth. I reached down to caress his cocklet and finger his cum-dripping
boycunt.

Even bred, he wasn't just tight, he was Mennonite tight.

And his little brother was waiting for me right down the hall.

"Go," Samuel nudged me as he squeezed my sticky-soft dick and he kissed me
on the cheek. "He needs taking care of."

I nodded and rose. I looked at the beauty of the 13-year-old boy I'd just
fucked and shivered at the thought of his 10-year-old brother, just minutes
away.

"Is he any good at it?" I muttered, half-surprised I'd just verbalized
that.

Samuel giggled. "Is Caleb good at it?" he smiled. "Oh, Mr. Blake," he
grinned, shaking his head. "You don't know the half of it."

Intrigued and amused, exhausted already, I opened the door and stepped into
the hall.

Caleb was already standing there, bare-assed and giggling. My eyes nearly
popped out of my head.

He tore off down the hallway and into his bedroom, laughing and shouting.

"Catch me, Mr. Blake! I need to be caught!"

I looked back at his brother but Samuel just gave me a shrug and a smile,
like, "can't help you there."

"God help me," I muttered as collected my dick wits. "This is going to be a
long, hard night."

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

Eli wrote me about devirginizing Caleb, something he'd done over two years
ago himself. Something he wanted me to imagine doing that first time too.

Imagine, he wrote. A rowdy youngster such as Caleb is going to need a firm,
somewhat authoritarian approach, balanced with some understanding that you
can't just shove the fuck stick in.

Mennonite kids (and more so with Amish kids) are pretty much taught to do
what they're told by the adults in their lives.

So with Caleb laid out on the bed, and you laying over him with his neck in
the crook of your arm, his little preteen hands might even be holding onto
your arm, you might have to whisper the reminder, "Dad said this was okay,
and you're to do what you're told."

And as your cock head begins to break through his virgin ass ring, you feel
his hands squeeze tightly on your arm as he groans, and you continue to
whisper, "Oh, yeah...little buddy... you're doing fine...mmmm..."

Caleb isn't too sure of that, because what you're inserting in his back
door is thicker than anything that's ever come out of it. He might even
plead a bit, "Ugh...ow...take it owwwt. Please..."

Don't. He won't learn this any other way.

Instead, continue to slowly push in. Feel your cock head fully insert and
his ring pops back behind your helmet. He groans again, "Aggghhhh..."

Maybe at this point you'd be able to kiss or lick the possible tear that
formed at the edge of his eye? Quite possible, since Caleb is so much
smaller than you. You continue to comfort him even as you drive your thick
shaft further into his small body.

"Oh...fuck...yeah ...such a good boy...takin' a...big dick..."  Feel his
hands hold you tightly until you finally bottom out and your nut sack is
resting on his body.

Give him a moment to breathe. As he does breathe, perhaps his hands will
loosen. Perhaps. If they don't, you may have to just fuck him that way; you
know, saw into him.

If he does loosen his handhold, you can get up slightly, place both hands
on his hips and begin to fuck him. As hard as you need to. Either way, you
can begin to whisper to him, "So fuckin' tight... yeah...you are...a
pussy...boy, now...this is...what...augh...you were...augh...meant for..."

At some point, you may notice that his breath, while ragged, is a bit more
rhythmic. He might be getting into this. Maybe you hit his spot.  You'll
have to make a decision at this point. Are you going to shoot deep inside
him? If so, just fuck away.

If you want to, though, you could pull out at the last second, flip the kid
over and jack off on his face. Give the little cum hound the pasting he
deserves.

God bless Eli. I think he was reliving a special moment in time.

I think that's what happened when he first fucked Caleb.

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

But the Caleb I found naked and giggling down the hall in his bedroom was
nothing like the scared virgin Eli was describing above.

The Caleb I was about to fuck was only 10 years old, but he was already an
old pro at it.

Consider. Caleb's dad had been fucking Caleb and Samuel since their mom
passed away over two years ago. That's two boys, and even at a conservative
estimate of one ass-fuck per day, divided by two boys taking turns (because
come on, Eli's only human), still means each boy had likely taken Dad's
cock up the rump at least 365 times apiece. That's a whole lot of
practice. I had a little leeway here.

As I opened his bedroom door and looked at him all sprawled out on his bed,
lying on his back, legs already up on the air, hands around his ankles,
already showing me his beautiful little boy hole, I understood immediately
that the Caleb I was about to fuck was already extremely well-versed in
what an assful of mancock felt like.

I wish I could describe to you properly what a 10-year-old's asshole looks
like when he's splaying it open and pointing it straight at you. It's pink
of course, pink and flesh-colored with tiny folds of white, like an
undulating earthworm. There are colors and pulses you can barely
imagine. And Caleb's was clean as a whistle, not a fleck or speck of tan to
be seen. Caleb was a tidy little washer and wiper.

Still, a boy's butthole still shines brightly with the residue of the
day. The combination paste of sweat and play. The passage of time mixed
with the musk of the moment.

"A boy's butthole is greeeeazy," my Southern friend Billy used to say. "Not
greasy. It's greeeeazy."

And sure enough, Caleb's did have a remarkably sweet glow to it. That shine
is where the flavor hides. That sparkle's where the fragrance lives.

"Dookie butter," Billy used to call it. "Right there's where a boy keeps
his sweet greeeeazy dookie butter. It glistens, my friend. Lord, how it
glistens!"

Caleb giggled and pumped his rump at me. "Ooof, ooof, ooof," he
giggle-grunted as he humped it out at me, one, two, three.

"That's the sweetest little thing I've seen in ages," I told him, closing
the door behind me.

He giggled and wiggled it some more. He licked a finger and touched his own
anus then licked the same finger again. He looked up at me with flirty,
wide-innocent eyes. My balls quivered.

"You ready to put some sex up my rump, Mr. Blake?" he cooed, nearly batting
his eyelashes at me. Then has was all boy again, giggling and snorting and
bouncing on his bed.

"Oh, I'm going to put some sex up your rump, Caleb. That's for certain."

"Dad says I'm Goodin Tight Caleb, that's what he calls me. I got the
tightest rump hole around!"

"Let's see it again," I asked him politely.

He got up on his knees and spread it out for me.

"Get in there close and get a good look at it," he invited me. "If you're
fixin' to put your seeds up my rump hole, you might as well get real close
and see where you're gonna squirt `em."

I did get in close, and sweet cream cheese frosting smell of young boy butt
made my heart skip a beat. My senses were flooded with his rising aroma
almost instantly.

"I seen you in there ruttin' on Samuel and I thought you was never gonna
finish," he giggled, sashaying his little buttercup back and forth in my
face, sending his perfectly sweet scent molecules dancing through the air
and making my cock clench-up like Grandma just slipped a pair of
compression hose around it.

"You were watching me fuck your big brother?" I asked him.

He giggled. "You said the F-Word," he said with a hushed whisper. "Dad says
we ain't to say that one."

I admired Eli's parenting logic. You can do it, you just can't say it.

"I opened the door a crack," Caleb giggled. "Sweet Crack Caleb my Dad calls
me. Take a snack on my Cracker Jack!"

He sucked on his finger again and absentmindedly fingered his hole while I
desperately looked around the room hoping to find a bottle of lotion or
lube. "Come on, Eli," I grumbled to myself. "What do you use to fuck this
kid?"

"Yep," Caleb beamed proudly. "I peeked through the door and seen you had
him all girlied-up on the end of your stick, just a grunting and a
whimpering like Becky Miller in fifth grade, the one he likes to pussy fuck
up her girl snatch."

I'd have to get back to that line of conversation later. Right now I was
still busy looking for something to lube up and get started with. Things
were becoming urgent.

"You want me to suck it the rest of the way hard for you, Mr. Blake?" he
offered happily. Holy cow, no underlying factor of shyness or hesitation
with this kid. "I'll suck it all the way hard and get it good and rump-wet
for you, so it goes straight in."

"Don't you have some slippery stuff?" I asked him. "To make it go in easier
at first?"

"Nah," he grinned. "Spit works just fine. Dad and Samuel fuck me in my
spit-rump all the time. Shoots right in! Ka-Pow!"

He cracked his hands together to emphasize. I jumped. This kid was a
marvel. A firecracker.

"Well, if you're sure spit's enough..."

"If you're skittish, Mr. Blake, we got some Vaselines in my drawer."

He said "Vaselines," plural with an "s" at the end.

"You go ahead and get the grease out if you're fearful, but honest, you
won't break nothin' inside my rump hole. I been takin' sex up the rump
since I was a kid!"

Lord, I was hard. He was all of 55 inches tall. All of 65 pounds. "When I
was a kid," he says. Jesus.

He scooted forward.

"Get your stick out, Mr. Blake!" he giggled, opening his mouth wide and
smacking his lips at me, kiss, kiss, kiss. "Here comes my super sucker!
Super Sucker Caleb my dad calls me. Best sucker for miles."

And then my ability to coherently hear or speak simply ceased, because he
locked onto me with that perfect little mouth and hot tongue of his and I'm
pretty sure I died and went straight to heaven.

Things about sex and the mouth puzzle me sometimes. Like who invented
French kissing? Who on history's timeline said, "Hey, let's put our mouths
together and lick each other's tongues?" It seems a strange leap, yet it
sure caught on.

Likewise, who came up with fellatio? "Let's put that big musky thing
between your legs in my mouth so I can suck it and lick it." Again, it just
seems like a leap. "That thing you piss out of there? I think I want it in
my mouth. You know. To suck the musky cock taste off of it."

Caleb, for one, didn't seem to be at all bothered by the historical
improbability of stumbling onto such things, and I sure as hell wasn't
going to bother him with it.

There are times when a child does something to you that feels extra good
because it's a child. A little girl grabbing Daddy's big forefinger with
her tiny hand as they walk down the sidewalk. A small child reaching up
with both hands to touch your cheeks, frame your face, tickle your armpits
with their little bitty fingers. Or a little Mennonite boy, 10 years old,
wrapping his sweet little cocksucking lips around your dick and licking,
slurping and gobbling at you like he skipped four dinners and you just
handed him an ice cream cone.

Caleb started out slow, just taking the knob in his mouth and giving it
slow, even tongue swirls. When that had me moaning, he went down a little
farther on the shaft, wetting me little by little when he took me deeper.

He pulled off my cock for a moment and looked up and grinned. "I taste
Samuel's rump on your stick," he smiled at me. "From when you did sex in
him."

He went back to work and fellated me slowly. Even deep up-and-down strokes,
until finally his little chin was resting on my ballsack and my entire dick
was lodged deep in his throat.

And just when I thought it couldn't get any better, the sight of his
preposterously tiny-sweet lips stretched around my dick shaft and the feel
of his Adam's apple bobbing on my knob, he started making soft "mmmm"
noises, which sent vibrations all the way up my shaft and down my
balls. The "mmms" drove me crazy.

He looked up proudly, like "told you I was good at it." He looked up
grinning, like "see what I can do!"

"Stop," I warned him. "I don't want to cum. Not in your mouth anyway."

He stopped. Came up slowly, sucking hard all the long, slow way to the
top. It was exquisite. He didn't just quit. His mouth made a graceful,
Olympic-level dismount. I don't know what they teach the boys in Mennonite
summer church camp, but on the strength of that b.j. alone, remind me to
sign my sons up.

"How was I, Mr. Blake?" he grinned, pulling off and smacking his lips. "Did
I super suck your stick good enough?"

"Oh, Caleb," I said, reaching up to pat his head and run a hand down his
cheek. "You super sucked me just fine, buddy. Just perfect."

"Good!" he chirped, plopping back down on his back, spreading his butt
cheeks apart with his hands again and treating me to a second view of his
pretty little asshole.

"Lord have mercy," I muttered under my breath in spite of myself. "There it
is again."

Caleb just giggled. "My dad calls `em my hind quarters," he said. "Good old
Caleb's good old hind quarters!"

"And a fine set of hind quarters they are," I admitted with not a single
hint of exaggeration.

"Or my asshole," Caleb shrugged. "We ain't supposed to swear, but my dad
says when somebody's doing sex up my rump it's okay to call it my asshole
cause it gets `em motivated."

"Whew," I whistled. "I'll say."

"So you just go right ahead, Mr. Blake." Caleb nodded, spreading it even
further apart. The sight and scent were driving me crazy. Perfect pink
starfish and little-bitty boy musk. "You just give my asshole a good long
lick, and then you go ahead and smell it, and then you go ahead and spit in
it, and then you stick a finger way up in it as far as you can go!"

I moaned so loudly I'm sure they heard me over on the next farm.

I leaned into his tiny asshole, and how big was it reasonably? About the
size of a dime maybe? Not even that? With puckered starburst lines jutting
out from the center, all pink-white and perfect? It was quite possibly the
most beautiful asshole I've ever seen on a boy. And I've seen my own sons'
butts. I've seen them and smelled them and licked them and fucked them, and
Caleb's was every bit as pretty, if not prettier.

I didn't even lick it at first. I just leaned in and smelled it. I just
slowly breathed in and enjoyed the musky subtlety of his boyhood
perfume. Musky's the wrong word. Musk implies strength, and Caleb's scent
was sweet and delicate. Earthy and woody are the wrong words too. And
poopy? Not at all.

This was scent, bouquet, redolence, incense. A tang, a spice, an essence, a
trace. Like honey-mustard pretzel pieces. Apple cider vinegar. Oatmeal
cookies and golden delicious apples.

I leaned forward and touched my lips to the shape of it. A soft kiss. A
kiss so soft it was almost holy. And tenderly, with a moan in my heart and
a wiggle from the boy beneath me, I tenderly began to make love to his anal
button with my lapping, grateful tongue. I felt it squiggle and nip against
my tongue.

"Oh, Mr. Blake," he cooed quietly. "You lick my rump hole really, really
good." And then he was silent, lulled into limbo. No more funny boy, just a
boy shivering quietly as a man ate his boyhood. It was a million flavors
all at once. Black tea and dandelions. Sea salt, coffee beans and thousand
island dressing.

Coating it good with gobs of my spit, I reached forward with my pinky and
pressed it forward. It sunk in almost immediately. No fighting through anal
rings with this boy. My pinky slid right in and Caleb shivered and slid his
ass up, farther against it.

"Use a bigger finger, Mr. Blake," Caleb moaned. "That one ain't nearly big
enough. Use the long one, then the thumb."

I had to bite my own lower lip to keep from moaning and scaring the
neighbors again.

I took my big long fuck finger, wet it with spit and pushed it in
quickly. Jabbed it really. Rammed it inside him. He didn't flinch, didn't
cry out, simply moaned and dug his ass up against it. How many times had
Eli fingered this boy with his big, thick digits? Many, by the way Caleb
writhed on it naturally. Twisted and rode it. Found his own prostate with
it. Pressed and moaned.

"Now your thumb," he whispered hoarsely. "Way up in me with your thumb."

I coated it with spit and pushed it in hard. This time he did wince. A
little bitty yelp. Then a satisfied sigh as something thicker went in him.

I fingered him harder, farther, and kept on going, switching digits. Fuck
finger, thumb. Fuck finger, thumb. The smell in the room was deliciously
obscene. Open, eager boy pussy. Caleb, waiting for a semen load.

I fingered him rudely. I dug and I twisted, stroking my cock with my other
hand and licking around the edges. There was nothing gentle about my
fingers in this boy. Any other kid might even think I was impolitely
finger-raping him. But not Caleb. He just twisted and cooed like it was the
best thing since sliced bread.

"That's it, Mr. Blake. Now you got `em both in there. That's the spirit!"

As I kneeled on the floor eating his ass on the bed and finger fucking the
life out of him, I kept stroking my rock-hard cock, and it was literally
leaking a rivulet of precum on Caleb's bedroom rug. Some Amish woman's loom
work would be stained forever, just seeing what I was dripping on that
handmade wonder.

"I need to put some sex in your rump now, Caleb," I moaned quietly. "You
need to let me stand up and get your rump on the edge of this bed and let
me put some sex in it, right here, right now."

"Here you go, Mr. Blake. You get right up in here and put your seeds in
me."

I thought about just standing up and plunging into him balls deep. A rude
reminder in Caleb's hinder: I'm the man and you're the boy.

"Sally forth," I though ridiculously as I alligned my mushroom to his shiny
starfish. But then I caught the sweet sight of his perfect little pecker
standing straight up toward his tummy, his little innie belly button and
his little hairless V, and I knew right then I'd have to stop at the
wayside to munch on some kiddy cock.

"OOOH, MR. BLAKE!" he giggled as my lips wrapped around his 3-inch tot
rocket, "You're gobblin' up my stick first! OOOOH! I didn't think you'd
stop for a stick lick!"

How could I not. The best little Vienna sausages in the world didn't hold a
candle to the flavor of Caleb's little dickie. His was like the smoky link
on your pancake plate you soaked with sugary maple. It was a sweet little
salty niblet of a boy dick, hard as a nail and thrusting up to meet me.

He grabbed a handful of hair and rode my mouth for dear life and twenty
pumps later he was shaking and squealing a great big "IIII-EEEEEEEEEE!" as
he wiggled and twitched and blew his imaginary boyload down my captivated
throat. He did it so well, it made me want to come back in two years to
taste him when the juice starts.

"Lord, Caleb, your hot little cock tastes so good." I said, practically
lip-numb from his fuck-thrusts.

He giggled, still flushed. "It ain't my cock," he grinned. "Just my
stick. Dad says me and Samuel still got sticks. Only men got cocks."

"Well whatever I've got," I told him. "It's about to shoot off if I don't
get it in you, so how do you want it?"

"Up against the wall," he told me with a dirty, conspiratorial grin on his
face. "You stand me up and fuck me right up here against my wall,
Mr. Blake. I like it that way. And I like it kinda hard."

There's an excellent old wall fuck scene I read a million years ago where
an 18-year-old boy fucks the 11-year-old boy best friend of his little
sister. It's honestly the hottest (and only) up-against-the-wall boy fuck
scene I ever remember reading.

"He wrapped his legs and arms around me trying to strangle me with his
little nude boy body," the scene started out. "He was shaking so hard and
screaming and moaning it sounded like he was in intense pain, but I knew
better. I just kept pounding his sweet little ass against the wall with
each hard fuck."

And it got hotter from there.

And I was about to duplicate it with Caleb.

I did exactly what he asked. I picked him up by his hairless armpits,
lifted him straight out of the bed in one 65-pound featherweight toss, and
stood him up against that wall so fast it made his little head spin. I
hocked spit on my cock, reached down with the thumb and forefinger, opened
up his tight little target, and pressed the mushroom tip of my man cock
into the scented divot of his sweet little stink slit.

"OOOOOF" he grunted as my dick pried him open. "OH MAN. OH BIG!"

And then just like Eli said he would, Caleb let out a little yelp like a
puppy does when you step on his tail.

I stuck it in him, and I'm not kidding. BLOOP. It went right in. Straight
up the English Channel. Like popping a grape out of its skin and up into
the air. Effortless. BLOOP. A little yelp and it was all the way in.

"OOOF!" he grunted as I squatted down and rutted him up against the
wall. The force of my cock thrusts picked him up on each instroke. Lifted
him up off the ground by an inch.

"You like it, Caleb?" I asked him, grunting.

"Yeah," he answered. "Give it to me harder."

I rutted him vigorously. I grunted louder. I lifted him up on his
tippy-toes with my cock thrusts.

Then remembering that exellent old wall fuck scene I'd read, I pulled it
out of him, spun him around, a look of disappointed "why'd you stop" on his
face, then hocked on my cock again, picked him up in the air and sat him
down again on my missile with another verbal "YELP!" and his legs wrapped
around my waist.

"OH WOW!" he giggled. "I'm sitting on your stick. It's all the way inside
me!"

I backed him up against the wall again. Grunted. Rutted. Literally banged
him up against the wall. I wall fucked him. I smelled dick and ass and felt
myself sweating. I got ready to cum.

"OOF! OOF!" he grunted with the strength of my thrusts. "OOF! OOF!"

I was glad his dad had fucked him so many times. No ordinary boy could take
a fucking like this.

"OOF!" he grunted. "IT'S GOOD! IT'S GOOD!"

My balls were a mess of boiling gibberish.

"Here it comes," I warned him. "Here it comes, Caleb! NOW!
NNNNNNNGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!"

I screamed as my brain went sparkly and my body exploded in fireworks.

"EEEEEEEEE!!!" he squealed, grabbing his legs around my waist and sucking
my cum with his ass mucles. I held him up against the wall as my lava
burbled into him.

"OH yeahhhh!!" he moaned with a long extended sigh. "You got a BIG ONE,
Mr. Blake! You sexed it right up my rump hole! You put your seeds in me
GOOD!"

I felt wetness on my stomach. I glanced down and realized he'd pissed
himself while I'd been ramming him against the wall. We were both shinty
and wet with his effort.

"Oh, Caleb. Oh, buddy. That was the best. I can't even catch my breath."

"That was a good one, Mr. Blake. I feel your seeds all squirting down my
rump-legs. Sorry I peed on you some."

"No problem," I panted. "It'll all dry off."

He farted a little air fart and my softening dick shot out of him. He
giggled and I looked down, and sure enough, my cum was already oozing out
of his back door.

Where had I found enough semen for a load up his brother's ass and a second
load up his? God bless my balls for cooperating and working overtime,
because this kid's bottom was a slimy, wet mess.

"You want your cock cleaned off, Mr. Blake?" he asked me, dead serious. All
business, this boy. Eli had trained him well.

"I sure do, Caleb."

"Good," he bragged. "Cause I clean `em good! Good Old Cock-Cleaner Caleb,
my dad calls me. You just watch me clean your big ol' rump poker shiny as
new again!"

He grinned and scooted up to my cum-slippery dick, still wet with my load
and his ass juice, and he opened his widest, and with little boy relish,
proud and determined, he sucked me again, like the seasoned little pro that
he was, and son-of-a-bitch if I didn't blow a SECOND impossible load down
his gobbling sweet gullet.

He sputtered and fluttered and wobbled his throat muscles, while
impossibly, I somehow managed to churn up another small load to pump down
his belly. Not enough to fill a teaspoon at this point, but enough to make
him say, "mmmm, good flavor," in his sweet, giggly boy voice.

Satisfied his job was done and my cock was clean, Caleb lay down on his
back on his bed and smiled at the ceiling while I looked at his pretty
nakedness, studying him up and down. I saw my cum pooling under his asshole
on his bedspread, gave him a nod and grabbed onto his skinny calves.

"Looks like I need to clean you up a little too, Caleb. Baby need his
diaper changed?"

He grinned and nodded "Yes, sir."

I lifted his legs up, stared him straight in the puffy, dripping asshole,
and went straight to work, eating my load from his quivering quim.

Well. Things led to things, and it turns out when it comes to my dick's
ability to rise to a challenge, there's more life left in the old boy than
I give him credit for.

Like a vole burrowing into a tunnel, we were off and running again.

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"So," Eli said to me with a grin at the diner the next morning for
breakfast. "Did you have a good time? Did you breed-up my boys?"

"Oh, I bred them all right," I said, reaching for my water glass. I was
parched.

He just chuckled. "That little one sure takes the fire out of you, doesn't
he?"

"My friend," I said honestly, "I'm surprised I can walk."

He chuckled again. "Who'd you do first, and how many times?"

"Ohhhh," I told him, smiling at the memory. "Samuel first. Then Caleb. Then
Caleb again. And then we had dinner. And then Samuel asked me for another
one. And then we all fell asleep in your bed. And then I woke up and the
boys were fucking. And then I woke up and somebody was sucking my cock,
though I honestly don't know who at that point."

"That would be Caleb," Eli nodded. "Little scamp can't keep a cock out of
his mouth when the bedbugs bite. He'll keep you up all night."

I nodded.

"You fuck 'em this morning?" he asked.

"I tried to fuck them a time apiece before I said my goodbyes," I admitted
sheepishly, "But I just didn't have anything left to give. I popped one off
in Caleb, but Samuel went to school empty."

"Oh, I'll fix that when he gets home, Mr. Blake," Eli said, rubbing his
cock. "Don't you worry about that."

"My dick feels like all the skin's rubbed off," I said. "I couldn't cum
that last time for all the tea in China."

"For all the milk in Bessie's udders we say around these parts," he
grinned. "Yep, them boys will drain your balls dry, Mr. Blake, give 'em
half a chance."

"Well, it was marvelous, my friend. They're drained and happy."

Eli checked his watch and stood to pay the check.

"Time to get working," he said pleasantly. "Can't sit here lollygagging all
day."

I stood to walk out with him and had to steady my rubber chicken legs by
grabbing for the table.

He chuckled again.

"Now don't you forget, I'm coming to pay your two boys a visit in a few
weeks or so. Soon as we get the corn picked."

"Oh, I haven't forgotten," I told him. "They'll be waiting for you.

"I'm fixin' to do your Cole first," he said matter-of-factly, "and then
your Devin."

Cole was 14. Devin was 11.

"I fucked a Cole once," he told me casually. "Never fucked a Devin
though. That'll be a new one for me."

"New one for him too," I smiled. "He's only taken mine so far. And fairly
gently, at that."

"Well. All the more reason to visit," said Eli. "See if we can ratchet him
up a notch."

He tipped his hat to me. "You have a safe trip home, Mr. Blake. I'll see
you soon."

Ratchet him up a notch? Lord, I almost gulped on behalf of my son.

We said our goodbyes with our next meeting less than a month away.

I hoped my boys were as ready for the trade-off as Samuel and Caleb were.

Those two boys were Mennonite tight. My two boys were city boys.

I hoped they were ready for some big old farm cock.

Eli's big boy-stretcher was fixin' to put some sex up their rumps.

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TO BE CONTINUED in a six-part story arc.

Chapter 1: The Meeting
Chapter 2: With Samuel
Chapter 3: With Caleb
Chapter 4: With Cole
Chapter 5: With Devin
Chapter 6: All Together Now

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Benjamin Thurmond's other fine stories on Nifty include:

http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/celebrity/lost-in-space-deleted-scenes
http://www.nifty.org/nifty/bisexual/adult-youth/my-buddys-kids/
http://www.nifty.org/nifty/bisexual/adult-youth/barnyard-fun
http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/a-fathers-fantasies/
http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/im-the-guy
http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/tales-from-the-male-bag/secret-world-of-little-league-boy

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The "excellent old wall fuck scene" referred to in this story appears in
the last chapter of "My Little Sister's Friend" by Anonymouse117 in Nifty
Adult-Youth, June 2013.

http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/my-little-sisters-friend/

Another classic Nifty tale I've re-enjoyed for years. Homage and a nod of
gratitude to its fine, original author.

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